Quvenzhané Wallis Slays Hard Knock Life Performance On Dancing With The Stars

by: April D. Byrd

This performance of Hard-Knock life by Quvenzhané Wallis and company was fierce. If you didn't catch it on the show Dancing With The Stars here's the replay, or even if you did it's worth watching again...or several times. The awesome young star who we first came to love in Beasts Of The Southern Wild is back at it again.

Quvenzhané  is starring in the remake of the film "Annie" which is opening in theaters on December 19th.  I'm looking  forward to seeing her performance in the film even more now. Go girl!!

Watch Below:




Are we agreed this was the cutest thing ever?! and how much are we loving that the host was pronouncing her name right! Leave your thoughts/comments below, and Join in on the conversation on Trey Anthony's Facebook Fanpage.



-- April D. Byrd is the Creator and Editor-In-Chief of breathoflifedaily.com

Adoption and Teachers and Watching What You Say

by Ajike Akande

The weirdest thing happened the other morning when I dropped Z at school ON TIME!  Yes, I realize the fact that I managed to get him to school on time is, in itself a weird thing, but it’s not the weird thing I’m referring to.   (You’ll be happy to know if you read my posts about my encounters with the Late SlipLady last year, that Z has been late only five times this school year!)

The weird thing took place when I ran into his teacher who has been on parental leave since last January, when Z was in grade 1, and will be returning as his teacher this coming January.  We started chatting about Z’s struggles in math, which are significant and out of the “everybody learns at their own pace” range.  She said, “Well you don’t know the family history, right?”  Wait, what?  Come again? 

If you are new to my almost weekly blog posts, Z is adopted.  He came home at four months.  He was born close to Toronto, where we live and our adoption was through the public system.  He is awesome.  He is also a kid, so sometimes he hides his awesome.  I am happy to tell you all of these things.  On most days, Z is happy to tell you these things.  What I am not happy to share, nor do I appreciate be asked about, are the details of his family history.  I also do not appreciate the assumption that the more challenging things about him, such as his inaptitude for math, are connected to his family history, which, of course, is assumed to be bad. 

I am not saying that family history, medical and otherwise, is not significant, but as Z’s parents, Wife and I can, with or without asked-for support, consider the role of our son’s birth family’s history play in his current abilities and share what is necessary.  Where he comes from is important.  It’s part of his life story.  His entire life story has and will always be important but it his personal story. 

Interestingly, in this same conversation, I mentioned (bragged) that our Z will be playing a mouse in the professional production of The Nutcracker this year.  Not surprisingly, the teacher did not look sympathetically at me and say “Well you don’t know the family history!”  So his special talent in and unwavering love for, dance could not have possibly been a gift from his birth family?  Can we please stop demonizing the birth parents that place their children for adoption?  Can we please stop assuming that they have influenced their children negatively?  Please stop assuming you know where my kid comes from.  And please stop blaming his birth family.  It’s really nobody’s business what Z’s history is until he or we invite them to make it their business.

2 yr old Z ready to garden...obviously

And yes, there are occasions when a child’s history, biological and otherwise, is essential to supporting them in school, but I just wish that people would simmer down with the assumptions and trust that all parents want what’s best for the children and will share information that is relevant and important to help their children learn.  (I do know that there are parents who have kept truly pertinent information about their child, be they adopted or not, from teachers and caregivers but this is not the norm.)

Reflecting on this exchange, I wish I had told his teacher that her question/comment was inappropriate.  I also wish I had said, “What difference does his family history make? He is a student who is almost two grade levels below in math, what are you going to do about it?"  Instead of playing detective and trying to find answers for who or what caused this problem, spend some time trying to understand his needs as a learner and just teach him.  Start where he’s at (not where he should be) and teach him until he learns it.  Not easy, but kinda simple, right? 

Phew, glad that’s off my chest!  Thank you for reading my rant!

XO Ajike

* Some of you reading this may be thinking about race being a factor in the teacher’s comments.  For the record, I think it is, but I just don’t have the capacity or time to grapple with that issue in a blog post.  Additionally, I know that I really only skimmed the surface when it comes to issues around disclosure and adoption.  I hope you understand that my lack of depth here is not for lack of understanding of the issues. 

Breaking Up Is Not So Hard To Do

by: Ajike Akande

The Silverman-Akandes have broken up.  Sorta.  On the weekends.  I think we’re onto something.  Let me explain…

Remember back in August, I wrote about how Wife and I decided we were big family parents without considering whether or not we would actually have big family kids.  You can read that post here.  (By the way, I have learned that deciding what kind of parent you are before you are actually a parent, or a parent under specific circumstances, is a waste of time unless you like being totally wrong and caught off guard.  You’ve been warned.  You are welcome.)  At least one person every day tells me that they couldn’t possibly handle raising five kids, or twins, or two sets of twins.  Basically my whole life as a parent is something most people have no problem telling me, they couldn’t handle!  This does not help me on the really bad days because on bad days I don’t think I can’t handle it either but I do handle it because, well the small humans depend on me to handle my s#*t!  

Apparently, I’ve got a parenting situation some (many?) people don’t want.  What about the kids though?  They don’t even know that their family could be different.  They have two moms, a whack of brothers and sisters - one who passed away before they could meet her.  Z has a Tummy Mommy, a mommy and a mama and little sisters and a brother who are twins.   They are mixed race, and not.  They are Jewish with a mommy who is not.  Their family is their family.  They only know that having a family of five kids is a big deal because they hear what people say when they find out!  Wife and I talk about how hard and intense it is to have a larger family, but the kids don’t talk about it.  I think we all know, however, that just because they don’t talk about how hard it is, doesn’t mean that they don’t feel it. 

Assuming that, like us, our children feel a little overwhelmed when all seven of us are together for the less structured weekend, we decided to do something about it.  Without asking the children their opinion (Why would we ask their opinion?) we decided that every weekend the Silverman-Akandes would split up.  Many families use the divide and conquer strategy for an afternoon, or a whole day or occasional weekends.  We like to take extreme measures.  (This nugget of information should not surprise you.)  Friends, until further notice, we will break up every weekend, except holiday weekends when we will grit our teeth and lean in to the tantrums!  After the children finish their 9am dance class on Saturdays, two or three of them head up north with Wife to my family’s farm and the remaining kids, which always includes Z, the tiny and heavily programmed dancer, stay home with me.   

We are about five weeks into The Great Weekend Divide aaaaaand, it’s working.  It’s not perfect, but it’s working.  The kids are happier and calmer.  So are we.  I miss Wife and Saturday night take-out in front of Netflix.  Neither of us gets a break, because we are always with at least two children.  The kids miss each other and the mom that they are not with.  But, going up north with mama means a slow, quiet weekend with no chores to be done.  Staying in the city with me means a chance to hang out with friends (if I get my butt in gear to make that happen) and definitely some kind of sweet treat while being schlepped between dance studios with the tiny dancer.  Splitting up also means that we can switch it up so that the twin sets can bond with someone other than their regular partner in crime.  The opportunity for our children to develop stronger connections with each other is the sweetest bonus of the weekend break-up. 

As it turns out friends, the Silverman-Akandes are not better - good, but not better, together.  Together we are loud love, non-stop giggles, frequent fights, high highs and the lowest of the lows.  Together we are shoulders up around our ears and kitchen dance parties.  We are extreme – the same way we are all week.  These separate weekends, the 30 hours under different roofs, provides everyone with the same good times but just enough calm to stalk up on cuddles and attention to survive another busy school week. 

Not surprisingly, every weekend, G-Dog whines to us that “we are a family and we’re supposed to be together.”  I love that she feels this way.  I also suspect that somewhere she knows that together is not always better. 

XO Ajike

P.S. I don’t want to beg (at least not in a totally obvious way) but if my peeps showed up at my house on a Saturday night with or without (preferably with) a bottle of wine, I would totally let you in! 

Some End Of The School Year Thoughts

by Ajike Akande

Well folks, we survived.  This Thursday is the last day of school.  As we kick the school year to the curb, I’ve got three things I need to share.  

1. I would be remiss if I didn’t send a little love to the Late Slip Lady given our history outlined here and here.  

Dear Late Slip Lady,

I am sorry about our daily lateness for the past few weeks.  It’s just that I feel no pressure at all to get the children to school on time anymore.  I refuse to fall for the principal’s claim that important learning takes place in the first ten minutes of the school day.  Let me remind you, I am a teacher; this is a lie.  In June, this is an outrageous, are-your-pants-actually-on-fire, lie!  The report cards have been written, signed and placed in manila envelopes.  The teachers are lovingly caring for their students and getting them to help tidy and pack up the classroom.  

This chill feeling about the morning school bell is precisely why the other day when a (killer) squirrel came into my house at 8:30 am, I was not at all worried about the time and getting the kids to school.  I hope that my neighbours also feel chill about not getting places on time because when I ran out of my house screaming for Wife, I also ran to the neighbour’s and asked that they come with a broom to help shoo the (killer) squirrel out of the house.  They were happy to help.  They are very neighbourly.  They may have regretted being so helpful when they realized that in rushing to my rescue, they locked themselves out of their house!  Ooops!  Sometimes there are downsides to being neighbourly!

Anyway, Late Slip Lady, as you can see that right until the bitter end, I have good excuses for our lateness.  I’ll miss you and I know that your summer will feel empty without the Silverman-Akande kids.  Perhaps you can get a job at their summer camps.  We will totally be late for camp too!  

Love,

Late Mommy

2. I have a lucky bunch of school-agers.  While our kids are super challenging at home, they have captured the hearts of their teachers at school.  I know how fortunate we are.  There will be years when this won’t be the case.  There are kids for whom the end of a school year is a much-needed break from being misunderstood and poorly taught.  We will have years like that, I’m sure but we are so grateful that this year we got lucky.  On the first day of school I posted this on Facebook:

To my kids' teachers:
Today I am sending you three of my babies - two more than last September. Please know that they are not perfect. Oh no they are not! But they are perfectly precious. And they are my babies. And I know what it means to be in your shoes, so I know that it won't take long before they feel like your babies. I promise that I am sending you the best kids I've got. I am not leaving the "good" ones at home. 
I hope you have a wonderful day meeting all of your new school "babies". May there be at least one moment today that leaves you excited for tomorrow! 
love, 
Ajike

Here is my end of the year message to their teachers:

To my kid’s teachers:

My kiddos are going to walk out of your room on the last day of school and they’ll say good-bye the same way they have all year.  They won’t stand on ceremony because it’s the last day of school.  They probably won’t hug you or say thank you or anything like that.  They have grown to take you for granted.  I know it’s not okay to take people for granted, and I wish they wouldn’t take you for granted but you’ve become a big part of their life.  They’ve grown close to you and have grown to trust you to love them.  It’s true.   They really believe that you love them because that’s how you’ve treated them.  They think you’ll always be there for them so there’s no need to make a big deal of saying good-bye.  The last minutes of the last day of school are surprisingly anticlimactic.  

I hope you have enjoyed your students as much as my kids have enjoyed you.  I hope you are as smart and right as they say you are about everything, because since you came on the scene in September, I’ve been wrong about almost everything!  

Thank you for making me feel good about sending my kiddos off to school every day!  

Love,

Ajike

3. I have a favour to ask all of you, particularly those of you who are in our lives or who are part of our Facebook or Twitter family (It scares me that I have a Twitter “family” and I truly do not at all understand Twitter).  Please do not brag about your wonderful magic moments with your children over the summer.   Don’t gloat about your camping trips and your 2-hour portages when even the youngest member of your family managed to pitch in.  Don’t post pictures of your hikes or trips to fantastic water parks and other special places that children seem to love.  This kind of show-offy behaviour just makes me feel bad.  Just because I have to take a few anti-anxiety pills and book a babysitter to allow for recovery time just to take our kids to the beach, 20 minutes away, does not mean they are not going to have a magical summer!  It’s just that when I am trying to ignore them and catch up with my peeps on Facebook, they gather around the computer and ask about all of these happy children in fantastic photos and then they want to know why we don’t do super fun things as a family.  It’s hard for them to understand that Mommy and Mama love them but they are truly out of control and therefore we avoid going out in public.  Clearly we hadn’t thought through how hard it would be to have so many children, so close in age!  So really, for the children, if you must have some kind of magical summer, could you just keep it to yourself?  

Alright, I’m glad I got all of this off my chest.  Bring on summer holidays (and the total lack of magical over-the-top experiences)!  

XO Ajike

Hope to avoid THIS next year!!

Letting go of the School “Game”

by Ajike Akande

Before I begin today’s post, I just want to take a minute to hold space for the girls, as well as their families, who are missing in Nigeria.  We are praying for your return.  

You may not know this about me, but I can be a little slow on the uptake.  Sometimes I have to make the same mistake over and over again, before I a) recognize my mistake as an actual mistake and b) vow not to repeat it.  

As a parent, I make plenty o’ mistakes.  It is possible that as a stay-at-home parent I have even more opportunities to make mistakes while interacting with my children.  It is also possible that our eldest Z has been the recipient of my ghastly parenting mistakes more than any of our other children.  He has, after all, been around the longest but I think there’s more to it.  

Here’s some radical truth telling:  

1. I am harder on my seven year old little Big guy Z than I am on my other four kids.  I am not proud of this.
2. My expectations are often too high and my frustration when he does not meet my expectations is also too high.  This is not okay.
3. My tough approach with him is about me, not him.  He’s a small human and I need to keep my crap in check.  
4. My belief in his abilities is about what I know to be true about him.  
5. I love our Big all that there is.  I need to parent him in a way that he feels my love.  Even when I’m frustrated or scared or without wine.  (The wine thing is real.  I am slightly more agreeable while sipping on a glass of white wine.)

Why the public confession?  This morning I had a brief conversation with the principal at my kids’ school.  We were late, so she greeted us.  Because she was the first adult I had come in contact with, I said to her “I’m so frustrated with him!” pointing at Z.  She asked what was going on and I explained that according to his teacher, he continues to be too distracted and social in class and as a result he is not completing his work.  I told her that he is sitting at a desk by himself – something he’s totally okay with as he knows he needs space from others, but is refusing to use other strategies that the teacher and I have suggested to help him focus better.  His mind is all over the place and although he is capable of completing his work, he can’t focus.

I spend a ridiculous amount of time urging my unique, social butterfly to play the school “game”.  Do the work; ask for help when it’s needed and be kind to everyone.  While I’ve never said this, I just want him to lay low and simultaneously stand out - at the right time and in the right ways.  Frankly, I am raising a black boy fully aware of the long history of racism in our school systems.  I have seen school offices disproportionately frequented by black boys and I am terrified that my boy will be one of them.  Like so many other black boys, I am afraid that he will be seen as a trouble maker because he’s squirrelly and right now, less interested in school and more interested in pop stars, fashion (I should write a whole post about his fashion statements.) and the grade two girls!  He loves school but is not particularly concerned with learning.    He talks too much and quietly daydreams all day.  

So I’m on him.  I nag him.  I don’t let up.  But something happened today when I was talking to the principal.  She said that Z is stubborn and maybe he needs the threat of working in the principal’s office to get him to focus.  I told her that the office is like a playground for a distractible person and that the teacher and I would continue to find ways to help him within the classroom.  I walked away feeling like she was pointing the finger and blaming Z instead of considering his learning needs.  She thinks this is all his fault and that he is not completing his work on purpose.  In truth I don’t know that the principal thinks poorly of Z.  She has actually been very supportive in many ways of our family since we joined the school community.  I believe that we are all, including her, doing what we believe is the best for the children at the school, however, I don’t always agree with the approach.

My boy is not stubborn.   To be honest, he so easily distracted that I don’t think he could be stubborn even if he wanted to!  If he can’t get his work done because he’s talking and daydreaming; if all the other kids to whom he is talking can complete their work but he can’t, maybe this little situation isn’t his fault at all.  

He’s seven.  He’s creative and smart, charming and articulate – oh and precocious as hell.  What is the school doing to make sure that he learns and gets the most out of the could-be engaging curriculum?  As a teacher, I try to remember that if the kids aren’t learning, I’m not actually teaching.  As a little guy in grade one, he is still learning to learn and he deserves teachers who are learning to teach in a way that that can happen.  

I’m not saying teaching is easy and I’m not saying that my son’s teacher isn’t doing everything that she knows to help him, but I am saying that I am done begging him to just play the school “game”.  I’m his mom.  I love him all there is.  I will continue to insist that any time he spends in the office is because of truly abhorrent behaviour and not incomplete work.  I will make every effort to try to re-teach what he hasn’t learned in class in a way that takes into consideration him as a learner.  I will fight for him to be seen for who he is and I will do what it takes to make sure that he continues to love school and with any luck, loves the learning that can take place there.  

Every so often I leave my little ones notes at the breakfast table.  Tomorrow I will leave this for Z:

To my Z,

I am so sorry that I get too angry, too often about your work at school.  It is the grown-ups job to work together to help you be the best that you can be at school and beyond.  I know that you are trying hard and that you want to follow your teacher’s rules and meet her expectations.  I promise to help find ways to make learning at school better for you and speak to you about school in a way that is loving and understanding.  

You are amazing, creative, smart, funny and kind.  Mommy and Mama love you more than you know.  

Have a great day!  

xoxox  Mommy

P.S  You still can’t watch TV!   (I’m still me!)

XO Ajike

The Hurt, Confusion & Disappointment of My Adoption Process

For all my readers, fans, and folks who come here for our usual Monday Motivation, today let me warn you there is no motivation. I pride myself on being honest, maybe sometimes too honest with my audience so here it goes! 

This adoption process has emotionally wiped me out. There I said it.  It has been an emotional roller coaster. The paper work exhausting, the meetings, the doctor's appointments, the fingerprinting, the waiting to "pick me" routine can drive anyone crazy.

I have had two false starts. Recently, selected by a birth mother who was having twins. I was ecstatic and as much as I told myself to not get emotionally drawn in or attached i did. I saw these children they were mine! My friends and family rallied around, everyone was excited and so supportive.  We all wanted these children!

 

I wanted them. Needed them.  And just as I was getting use to the idea that in a few short weeks I would be a mother, that wish was snatched away from me. (* For reasons too personal to talk about ) But the unfortunate and final outcome was that the twins did not happen. I "allowed" myself 24 hours to grief and told myself I couldn't afford the luxury of becoming an emotional wreck there was too many things to do. So i pulled up my big girl panties and soldiered through!

I then found a sibling group and got very excited about them and knew in my heart that these were my children. Yet again fate intervened and they were not. Again I was faced with the harsh reality that motherhood had eluded me once again. Yet I tried to march on and be brave. Cried in private.  I recited my affirmations, prayed about it through my tears. Trying to not let this defeat me, or shake me. I tried to not let all these bottled up emotions overwhelm me ....

However, yesterday I got a call from my homestudy worker that my file was accidentally shredded! Nearly five months of time consuming paperwork gone!  I needed to resubmit all my paperwork and the homestudy had to be rewritten which again would take up more precious time that I don't have.  I would not be considered for birth mothers until my homestudy was "completed." More precious time. More waiting! I just broke down in tears ate a bar of chocolate, a bag of chips and headed to bed! Yes I'm an emotional eater! 

So today I'm giving myself permission to sit with disappointment, hurt and anger and know that it's ok. As womyn sometimes we don't allow ourselves the full moment to acknowledge our true feelings. Sometimes we need to just unapologetically cry. Yet instead of crying we march through and keep going!  We put the super womyn cape on and start flying. But today I decided to take my cape off and just say I'm hurt, disappointed, angry, EXHAUSTED and I'm taking a time out!

Pick me! I want you to pick me!

I've always loved kids. Always knew I was going to be a mother.  I always envisioned that I would get married at age 28 and have my first baby at 30. I wanted a big family! Three to five kids? Well, big enough!  And even though I knew I wasn't too keen on the whole pushing one out deal I knew I wanted to be a mom!  So I chose to forget about the painful child birthing experience and just focus on the baby! I was going to be a mommy! So, I never thought I would find myself at age 40, single and childless!

Yet, I'm really glad that I waited. I now feel fully ready to parent someone. Fully ready to put someone's needs before my own. I have read every parenting book out there! Scoured every baby blog, taken parenting classes, interviewed friends with kids, Interviewed even kids, asking them what they think their parents did right and what things they wish they would change! I've spoken to adoptive kids, adoptive parents, adoptive grandparents!  Yes, like everything in my life, I get a little obsessed and my over achieving personality kicks in.  And of course I know I will mess up! Show me a parent who hasn't!  But I rather mess up less than more!  

When I first started my baby quest I asked a friend if he would donate some sperm to help me, I also got a surprise offer from a somewhat anonymous donor.  Yet, every time I thought about the entire process of pushing a watermelon through a golf ball, I started to feel queasy!  I knew I didn't want to be pregnant but I did want a baby!!!  Soon the entire sperm deal with both my potential baby daddies fell through! I was disappointed but I truly believe everything happens the way it needs to happen. And my womb thanks me daily!  And now I'm in the adoption process. 

I'm currently working with a private agency who specializes in open adoption and placing new born children of colour with families of colour.  I've nearly finished my homestudy and just waiting on my fingerprints from the FBI. Yes the FBI! Home study is no joke!  Paper work table high, workers probing into your mind, your childhood, your family etc! It's a lot! 

 And after my home study is complete the process of waiting begins.... I've been informed that it may take anywhere between eighteen to twenty four months. Yes a very long time! Nearly two damn years!

I've been painfully made aware that I probably won't be a birth mom's first pick. Usually birth mothers choose two parent heterosexual families first, then straight single parents,  then gay couples,  and then someone like me~a single queer womyn is last on the list!  The realities of this was hurtful at first and I even debated whether or not to come "out" in this process. Believing,  who's business is it anyway, what I do in my private life! 

Yet, I felt something as important as starting a family should be started in pure honesty,  there should be no level of dishonesty.  So here I am "OUT", waiting, empty arms... I have this knowing belief that somehow I'm not going to get my baby in the conventional way, and I have a belief that I'm going to prove everyone wrong and that I won't be waiting for twenty four months!  I just have a feeling that my baby  is out there waiting for me and the right moment will come, sooner than later!  And some birth mother out there will also know that I'm the right person to raise our precious baby. 

I'm hoping that a brave, wonderful birth mother will over look all the things that I'm apparently "not" and just see all the things that I am.  A womyn with a big heart, a huge laugh,  who wants to be a mommy really badly......

Keep you posted!