#burbiedollchronicles

[charlotteburbie-blog]

Pro-Choice: What it Means to Me

It was October 22nd and I was determined to take my baby-bump photos. Throughout the day, I continually called the studio to push the time back because things were hectic. It’s no wonder, I was scheduled to have a C-section early the next morning and there was a lot to do--too much to do! I was torn between getting the boys set up for the week, cleaning the house, preparing the baby’s room and just getting my head straight--my two prior C-sections were hell. So while I was excited about my little bundle, I was panic-stricken about having a third Cesarean delivery.  

     To make matters worse, Jaime and I were not speaking. What else was new?

     This time, he was livid because I’d be having my tubes tied after the baby was delivered. No more kids! He wanted a minimum of five children. In fact, he’d felt so strongly about this that during premarital counseling, this issue--the number of children we would have--almost put our relationship in jeopardy.

     “Jaime, how do you expect me to have five children and work full time? It’s too much,” I argued. “Plus, I’m not a spring chicken.”

     “Well, my mom had 12 kids and worked,” he responded. “She had my sister at 47 years old.”

      “Well, I’m not your mother,” I shot back.

       The pastor intervened offering a compromise. We would have two children (assuming I could even have children with my fibroid issues) and then we’d make a decision about having more. The wedding was on again!

        Fast forward five years later: the doctor recommended I have my tubes tied and stop having children. I was relieved!  Even still, I tried to be considerate of Jaime’s feelings--or at least I wanted it to appear that way.  

        “Jaime, after three c-sections and two procedures to remove fibroid tumors, my uterus looks like cottage cheese. The concern is that my uterus would rupture from another pregnancy and I could die.”

        He shrugged. “I don’t believe in doctors,” he stated firmly. “I believe in God.”

         Now, I shrugged as his last statement hung in the air. It was funny to me how God was being brought up at this point in our marriage--at the breaking point. From my perspective, we were clearly headed for divorce. Had God been in the midst, perhaps things would have been different.

          “Talk to the doctor yourself,” I offered as we headed to our final photo shoot as a family of four.

           “It’s a girl!”  Jaime screamed so loudly he nearly shook the delivery room. It was the special delivery we were all waiting for after having two boys.

            Immediately, Jaime began his line of questioning regarding the tubal ligation. The doctor lifted up my uterus (yes, my goods were on display) and showed Jaime the scar tissue, restating his recommendation. Despite this, Jaime opted against the surgery--he wanted more children.

           I had the final say: I chose to have my tubes tied.  

           Was it the right choice? Who knows? From a physical perspective, pregnancies were tough for me. I felt my age played a factor. I’m no Janet Jackson nor do I claim to be. Beyond that, I just don't think adding kids to a broken marriage was the right recipe. Even still, I am glad that I am the one that made the choice since I live with the results--daily!

[newjerseyburbie]

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Spring Baseball has begun

[newjerseyburbie]

GRANDMA’S HANDS... To Mommy on her 82nd Birthday....

On April 1st, 2017 65 family and friends gathered at my home to celebrate the 82nd Birthday of Bernice Diana Patricia Yorrick (aka Auntie Jean/aka Mommy). As we gathered around the cake (stevie wonder playing in the background), I held up my phone to take a picture of the moment – this moment of life, love, happiness, joy and emotion…… 

A tear fell…. My heart filled with joy as I watched Pops, my son, Grandmas only grandchild, (who just turned 7) run over to cut the cake with grandma. I’m not sure if his love of cake and candles overrode his love of Grandma at that moment… but in true Pops fashion, he was ready for the moment. 

As folks shouted “Marky say a few words to Grandma!” I waited for it….. cuz I never know what will come outta that mouth.... "Happy Birthday Grandma, I love you.” About 5 more tears fell – but I held it together…. 

Pops was born 5 days before Mommy’s 75th birthday. That year when she blew out her candles, we asked “What did you wish for?”. 

 Mommy said “I have 1 wish! To live to the age of 100. I want my Grandson to know me.” 

 So far so good Mommy….. 

She was there for me when he was born – headed right out to the Burbs helping me wash bottles, caring for him so I could get sleep and keeping the house quiet. 

And she’s continued, never waivered, never saying no if I ask for her help with Pops. 

She picks him up from school a few days a week – So I’m not ‘the only mommy that leaves at 5pm anymore. 

 She does homework 

 Takes him to the park 

 Feeds him. Bathes him... 

She reads the bible with him every day 

Taught him to pray..... 

Taught him a shoelace technique so he won’t fall on the playground 

Teaching him her impeccable penmanship 

She washes and folds clothes for the whole family 

Hugs him up when he needs it and I’m not there 

And she doesn’t ask for a dime…... refuses my money whenever I offer. 

She’s the mom I remembered when I was growing up 

And as fussy as I can be when I get home you stay calm and just suck your teeth and roll your eyes at me (yes I see you…). 

 How lucky am I y’all? 

Burbies, if you want to know the key to work-life balance?? It’s Grandma. If you don’t have one, Find one! They’re waaay cheaper than a nanny, work MUCH longer hours and there’s no job they won’t do for the love of her family.

Mommy/Grandma/Auntie Jean/Bernice, there isn’t a word in the dictionary to tell you how thankful I am to have you. Don’t ever Change! Stay Gold! Get Golder! Continue to be my rock! Cheers to many many more years! Love always, 

your daughter Colette

[charlotteburbie-blog]

Hoop Dreams!

Think all black boys can jump? If so, you’re wrong… DEAD wrong. Sometimes I think the McKenzie Boys (AKA my sons) have boulders in their shoes. They have no flight. As a result, we’re constantly bumping heads because when I direct them to take an opponent to the hoop, they look bewildered. Of course, they think I’m clueless as well as they argue, “Mom, all black boys don’t play basketball!”

But they don’t understand: I don’t want ALL black boys to hoop—just my two!

I have tried everything to help my sons develop a wicked jumpshot (ok, just hit the rim for goodness sakes!)  Thus far, airballs!

When they were ages 5 and 6, I hired a basketball coach (see video). Myles—bless his heart—was slipping and sliding all over the court. At one point, I think he got hit in the face from a simple pass. Though Tyler gave it the college try, he also had a hard time. "Time for another plan," I reasoned.

For the last few summers, I put the boys in Ricky Price’s Game Ready Skills and Development Camp. I thought meeting celebrity basketball stars and playing with other African American boys their ages would get them pumped. It had the opposite effect. The other kids were shooting for the pros while my boys—who hadn’t even mastered dribbling—just resided to the bench for the week.  Miss!

I then concluded that a more basic course would boost their proficiency in the game. So, my next play was to put them in a CMS (Charlotte Mecklenburg Schools) sports camp. This option was for Beginners so I figured Ty and Myles would be paired up with other kids of similar skill levels. No net!

So what’s a wanna-be basketball mom to do? Throw in the towel?  You bet!

I’ve finally accepted the obvious—basketball just isn’t their thing. The truth is I leaned on basketball because it reminded me of my childhood. My male peers practically grew up on the court. It was where they developed friendships, talked smack, gained confidence, got exercise, and learned teamwork. Beyond that, basketball was a large part of inner-city culture. It was what black boys did!

That brings me to my last point; I secretly hoped basketball would help my sons develop camaraderie with other black boys. Don’t get me wrong, I love what our suburban life offers.  The elementary school, for example, has great resources, enthusiastic teachers, and delivers high test scores. But, fact is—it’s only 6% black.  At one time, my boys looked like a fish out of water around other black kids. I believed that that basketball would close the gap. But, that wasn't reality.

My kids strive and thrive in a host of other activities--both in and outside of the classroom. Aside from excelling in academics, Tyler competed on the Science team and Myles does stand-up comedy and pens his own comic books. And who says the majority of their friends have to be black? Friendships are where you make them and they come in all colors. Admittedly, I was putting my old school ways on them.

Sure, my kids will never know what it is to hang out in Foster Avenue park with a cup of shaved ice (topped with condensed milk) dripping down your arm as you watch the neighborhood boys battle on the b-ball court. But, they'll have their own memories. I can’t relive my past through their futures. They need to be free to take their best shots—even if the extracurricular activity is outside of basketball.  I just hope they’ll put their game controllers down long enough to listen to me reminisce.

In the meantime: Kyla, it’s time to get the double-dutch rope out!

[newjerseyburbie]

My annual try with corned beef! This one is Mustard Crusted and baked. Every year my hubs requests corned beef and never seems pleased with the finished product (but still eats it mind you....). This year my sis-in-law was over and gave me her recipe which was their moms recipe. As the side I wok-ed the red potatoes, cabbage and sautéed Vidallia onions with butter and olive oil and some mustard. I can't stop eating it!! Hopefully there's some left by the time he gets back!!! #stpattysdayremix #staywoked #burbiedollchronicles #blacksintheburbs #burbiescanburn

[newjerseyburbie]

Curry Chicken, coconut fried rice, palak paneer, sweet plantains, poori.... #bellyfull #Sunday supper. #blacksintheburbs #burbiedollchronicles #burbiescanburn

[newjerseyburbie]

The CMOH challenge (clean my own house) So being a SHINKy till 40 afforded me many luxuries (impulse international travel, random money dumps on frivolous things, $200jeans, $2000 bags and $7 coffee. Many Of these luxuries I gave up (or scaled down) when moved on in life and became a Burbie. But one luxury has followed me my entire adult life and has actually transitioned from luxury to mandatory in my Burbie book - a home cleaner! As a kid, my West Indian mom was all about making me and sis clean the entire house when we were old enough, which lead to my sis and I hiding from her, slacking off and ignoring her demands.... which led to her Oscar winning dramatic performance of being fed up with her lazy ass kids. She'd fall down on the floor with heavy cries and the words went something like "LAWD LAWD!!! I can't do this by me-self LAWD!!! FADAHH GAWD PLEASE PRAY FOR DEEEZ LAZY CHIL'REN AHH MIIINNNEEE!! I PRAYYYi live to see tomorrow cuz ah gon' fall down DEAD wit' doom all dis housework by meh-self!!! FADAHH GAAAAWWD I PRAY!!! " it worked when we were little kids cuz we were just in shock by her dramatic fall (she's no small woman). But as we got older we would just sit and time what part of the drama was coming next and silently giggle together. Yes we're ungrateful kids I know....... and clearly my issues with housecleaning started young. Now I've changed cleaning ladies and services over the years but always made I sure kept at least one in my contact list that I could call anytime and within 48hours they come and make me feel whole again - bring me back to my center..... like I said MANDATORY!! I used to have a personal cleaner, then I switched to a service - there is a difference - here's the breakdown: Cleaning lady: PRO: spends 5-8 hours in your space climbing up ladders, going under beds dusting, washing, and vacuuming every crack and crevice until all your fluid bottles are empty and you have to wear a mask from the product fumes - when she leaves your house is sparkly shiny and giving you life! CON: they prefer that you leave your house while they clean so you have to find something to do for 8 hours and you have to build trust. They also get in your business sometimes and you just want to tell them off - but you can't! Well you shouldn't! Cleaning Service: PROs: they always have someone available and the owner is ready to haggle a price. The service I use is Russian and they show up in front of my house in a minivan with a Big Russian dude driving - he drops of someone and comes back 4 hours later to pick her up. You can stay home and tell her everything you need her to do step by step. If you don't like the person they assigned to you, just call and they'll give you a new person CONs: Anna is our assigned cleaner and she comes of that van every other Saturday at 6am waking us out of our sleep! There's no time choice. Also, most of them speak no English - or at least she acts like she doesn't..... so you have to call the owner and have them negotiate on anything they don't want to do. The great thing is that home cleaners are relatively inexpensive out in the Burbs. I pay the same for a 5ksqft house that I paid from my 1 bedroom NYC apartment so there has been no reason to give this up!!! Until now! New Home, New space to learn about and I want to get to know every corner before I pass the torch to Anna. So i assigned my self the CMOH challenge. For 1 month I decided to pull out my big yellow rubber gloves and CleanMyOwnHouse! Well that month went slow.... actually it took 2 and 1/2 weeks before I was calling for Anna again. Not because i didn't want to do it, I really just didn't have the time What I learned from the CMOH challenge: 1) household electrics have gotten much simpler! When I first brought up the Dyson vacuum from the basement, my lil Pops says to me "Mommy what are you doing with that?" Me: I'm about to vacuum the house. Pops: YOU???? Me: Yes! Pops: Why? Me: because the house needs cleaning. Pops: Where's the Peach lady that doesn't speak English? Did she die? My face was filled with shock and disbelief! What have I been teaching this kid???!!! It took me another 15 minutes to start because I had to have a sit down with Pops to explain to him that he said something inappropriate and also explain to him it was my fault. Once I turned on the vacuum, I found it quite easy to use. I was going around the baseboards, the curtains and under the beds like a champ. And when I put on my headset it was like I was in a zone (kinda like a workout but with less instruction and less sweating). It was cathartic! 2) It's ok to get help if you need to and can afford it. Clearly in my childhood home I was taught hard physical work was a badge of honor. In fact I've observed that most black people traditionally do not believe in having someone else clean their home, coming into their space. They think it's for rich people. I realize now that even though I CAN CleanMyOwnHouse, i don't NEED to. If it's a choice between spending that extra time doing constructive with Pops and Hubs. Now the CMOH challenge is done. I have redeemed myself with my childhood and I'm calling Anna tomorrow so I can get a manicure.

[newjerseyburbie]

Mylife@40 By the age of 40 I’d set up a very nice life for myself.  And then as they say “you want to make god laugh, tell him your plans….” 

At 40, I got married (to a man my age, no kids, college educated - no settling). We had beautiful, traditional church wedding and hall reception with over 100 of our closest friends and family. 

At 40 I moved out of my single girl waterfront condo in jersey city to live in the quiet suburbs of New Jersey with my hubs. 

At 41. I had my son (no IVF, no help) i became a mother of of a lil dragon we call Marky (aka Pops cuz he’s just cool like a popsicle + he reminds me so much of my dad). 

 In my 40s I evolved, and my life changed…. 

Rewind to 1 year earlier, my life looked completely different: I had a host of New York SHINKy friends like me (Single, High Income, No Kids) like me and we travelled the world, dined at the hottest NYC restaurants on the daily, had a career with lots of perks, swag bags and hot parties/events.   Life was good - who knew that at 40 it would get even better…. 

Fast forward 1 year later to marriage, motherhood and burbie life, I was faced with so much - a time of so much growth and resistance: 

ATWORK: 
“Maybe you should consider a job with more flexibility…..”
"Why did you come back here?” 

MYSO-CALLEDFRIENDS:  
Why wouldn’t you get a nanny?“ 
"Why don’t you let HIM watch the baby so you can go out or do a girlfriends trip?” 
“I don’t need to hear this - Im all caught up on facebook”. 

SO WHAT DID I DO? I hibernated…. i stayed away from the negative energy for a while. I spent time with my baby and made sure he KNOWS who mommy is… I went to work each day, over-performed and kept my socializing down to a minimum. 

 Of course, the SHINKys came for me!!  
“Why don’t you spend time out anymore?”
“Damn, he got you LOCKED up like a slave?” 

The response was obvious to me…but not to them: Why would I want to spend time with people who just want ME to listen to THEM and never the other way around??? People who don’t respect and support the new me? And why did these friends of mine act like my life was corny, boring and uninteresting when they KNOW they would trade places with me in a heartbeat!!

The truth - I loved every minute of my new life! I had people that depended on me - when I drive into the garage of my lovely home and open that front door at night my guys holler out “Mommys Home!!!” I had play dates, swim lessons, mother son dances and sleepy time book reading. 

WHY at 40 would I pay someone else to raise my child while I spend hours doing the same thing I’ve done for years??? I wanted to be a part of his life in a major way - not part time. This new role was Better than any black tie event or industry party - it was REAL LIFE, MY LIFE ON THE B- LIST (Burbie list that is). 

So here are some FAQs of encouragement for my SHINKys that Ive learned from my experience: 

AM I TOO OLD FOR A TRADITIONAL WEDDING? HELLNO! New century new rules. if you have a vision of your wedding, what it should be and you have the money to pay for it, then do it. Make sure you and your fiancé are aligned tho… the wedding should never be a bigger deal than your relationship. 

SHOULD I WEAR WHITE IF I'M GETTING MARRIED AT AGE 40+? HELLYES! In the words of my mom-in-law “wear your sh-t!!” As a matter of fact in your 40s you have the money for a better dress, and your taste is evolved + what’s the wedding without the show? 

SHOULD I TRY TO GET PREGNANT NATURALLY for a while before consulting a Dr? NO DON’T WASTE PRECIOUS TIME! If you want kids, go straight to you GYN then a fertility Dr. I got lucky with a honeymoon conception but most that I know in their 40s aren’t so lucky. WHAT IF I’M IN MY 30s AND NOT YET MET THAT PERSON? GET THOSE EGGS FROZEN AND STORED. This is the best advice you’ll get. The fact is that IVF doesn’t work effectively in your 40s!!! I leaned that when we tried to have a second baby. 

And what about friends? F-friends!  fact is, You’ll loose some friends, you’ll reconnect with others you lost touch with when they had kids, and you’ll make new ones with kids the same age as yours. you’ll be surprised how organically it will happen. People that don’t want to figure out how to be a part of your new life - don’t go out of your way to please them. Let the relationship dissolve or become what it should be - whatever that is….. 

Final BurbieBlurb: When life changes, Embrace the new - without fear - knowing that you’re not the only one going through change! THATS one benefit of being a 40yearold first time mom - the Wisdom of a Grandma and the uterus of a YoungGirl:).

[newjerseyburbie]

Adventures of a Burbie seeking braids The suburban salon for black women is a combination of social time and also a place where you're having some pampering. Hair and nails are a Saturday chore and stays on the calendar. I have 2 salons I frequent: 1) in my hood which is inexpensive but I can NEVER get an appointment with the head stylist. 2) in the city near my job. I can go at lunch and be back to work without using up my Saturday at the salon. Next month I have an event so I needed an in between hairstyle and opted for a crochet knit style which will last me just in time for my late Feb event. I've done crochet knit before and I like it - it's neat, quick and stylish. What I hate is the salons are always dirty and unconventional when it comes to the sterility of their washing hair. Nevertheless I like braids and I've begun my quest to find a salon that DOESNT gross me out. I've passed by this salon everyday for the past couple of months and observed the steady flow of traffic. Since i was not a fan of the braiding salon in my town I decide to give this one a try. Research: I did a google search and bingo! - 4.8/5 stars!!! 10 reviews. Good sign. I call the women and her English is good so we communicate well about what I want to do. She charges $80 for crochet knit and my stylist in the burbs charges $150. This is a big savings! I'm ready to give it a try - what could possibly go wrong........FAMOUS LAST WOOOOOORRRRRRDDDDDSSSSSS! 1st Red Flag - I sit in her chair, she looks at my head (I'm rocking a custom wig is one of my faves and has a dope cut). She taps my head, smiles and looks at me. I smile back and say "what?" She says "take this off please?" I said "it's sewn in? Don't you remember I told you this when I came in here and we talked yesterday." She had a confused look on her face then says "OH" and proceeds to look for the razor. Then all of a sudden there's some sort of switch and I got the apprentice taking my wig out my head. And she DOESN'T SPEAK ENGLISH! 2nd SIGN: I notice the apprentice is doing a lot of cutting in the center and not the perimeter..... I say to her "are you cutting around the perimeter? She says "eh?" Boss lady says "what??" With a nice smile... turns out the apprentice was cutting the tracks out of my $500custom wig and if I didn't say something - smh...... 3rd SIGN: the Apprentice walks over to the mug, grabs it, goes into the closet room ( which I can't see inside of) comes out with the pitcher full and proceeds to put the water into the electric kettle on the floor and turns it on. OHDAHORROR!!!! This is not going well for me so far! 4th SIGN: Ok so now it's time to remind her that I want to color my hair (btw I brought all my own products). Coolah? She asks I said yes. She asked AGAIN. I said yes AGAIN! They start talking to each other.... then Apprentice goes to the closet and starts making lots of noise. I see a bunch of shower towels of all colors get hung up on the entry door of the close - she then motions me to come inside. I'm scrrrrd! I tip toe over bend and peep in the room first. There's a professional sink and a chair just like at a normal salon!!!! But the room is dark and narrow and there's this huge mop inside that looks Like a monster leaning by the doorway........ if it's sounding like a horror story know that it was feeling that way..... I give her my color, the other lady comes over and they start talking again in their native tongue. NEXT!!! I hear the apprentice putting on gloves, but not those flat clear plastic gloves that stylists use- nah nah nah! She put on the big pink dishwashing gloves!!!!! What the helll. I first thought of getting up and running because I'm in full view of the mop in front of me and of course I'm thinking my head is getting colored with the mop gloves. Then she walk out of the room and throws away the box that the gloves came in. Whew!!!!! I think...... so the color was completed, she washed and Shampooed pretty well, then she blow dried with a technique I was impressed with. Very little hair breakage - ok now..... the braiding has begun, the knitting has now being done by the owner - and she didn't stop at all even when her 4 visitors and 5 phone calls were coming at her. The result was good. I can't complain about that but this was an adventure! I know you're all wondering why the hell I stayed. 1) it was Saturday afternoon at 2pm. If I left that salon with my head 1/2 done I wouldn't be able to get my hair done till Tuesday. How do I go to work with an undone coif???! 2) I'm the girl that sees a train coming my way and just takes two steps to the side VS. leaving so I can see the outcome? Please don't Judge. I've always believed that experiences make life more interesting. Yes I can say to myself never go to a cheap braiding salon again without washing and prepping beforehand... but rather my mind keeps asking why? Why can't I get a good price for braids without having to sacrifice quality? My quest continues. I will keep searching until every strand of my hair is gone!!!! (THAT was just a joke, but for real though I'm about getting a bargain- gotta pay tuition for College in another 10 years)!!

[newjerseyburbie]

Easter Sunday Dinner: Blackened chicken + pumpkin ravioli sautéed in brown butter & sage, black eyes peas w/smoked slab bacon + mustard & Kale greens.

[newjerseyburbie]

#blacksintheburbs #resurrectionsunday #burbiedollchronicles #growingupburbie

[newjerseyburbie]

BASEBALL + APPLE PIE + A FEW NEGROES = AMERICA - Black Burbies and little league baseball

Soooo. I signed Pops up for the township little league. Why? Because nothing says America more than baseball. Well ok not entirely true….

TRUTH: I was bombarded by flyers in my sons school folder about various sports camps in town and ALL Burbie kids do sports. A typical convo with another Burbie mom usually includes: what sports does he play? I can’t say none because it’s just not acceptable for Burbie assimilation! Pops LOOKS athletic - was born with a lean build and is very limber and fast but he struggles in school. So I’ve spend the past few years on developing his core academic skills (reading, math, diction, etc).

But because everyone is so impressed with his swift movements and athletic potential and the pressure from flyers and other moms I said WTF! Let’s do sports!!! He did winter soccer and it was so easy - 1 practice a week and 1 game on Saturday for 8 weeks. EASY! Ok let’s try little league baseball for spring Pops! Can’t be too hard……

My first red flag: orientation day. Walked in the room about 10minutes late to a sea of about 200 people. A table in front to great me asking my sons name - I was then escorted to the Meteors table. This is the team he’s been assigned to play on. As I walk to the table people are stopping me for hugs and convo. Other parents from the school and his previous school. They’re all here for baseball??? I’ve been missing out all these years! I love a social moment. This will be fun…… well……

The meeting lasted 1 hour where were being told all the things needed to be done by the parents - raffles, tricky trays, work parties, team parents, snack stand requirements. WHAT???? Y'all I work!!! I don’t have time for all this shit! Soccer wasn’t like this at all. This was more work for the parent than the kid. Ok my face has no more smile on it. The only thing keeping me here is the $100 work bond they charged me that I won’t get back if I cancel. Damn!

The other difference between baseball and soccer? DIVERSITY! There were hardly any black people in the room. With soccer Pops was the only one but there were hispanics, asians and Indians. BASEBALL THOUGH!!!…… 95%White! And a few black boys. Somehow without knowing the taxes they managed to sprinkle them around so no 2 are on 1 team.

Picture day, the first event for the season. We show up with plans to leave in an hour to see over 1,000 people, the town mayor and other government administration. A parade with the kids even before the pictures - they held us hostage! The Mayor spoke, the deputy Mayor, then the fat guy sang OhSayCanYouSee. FINALLY pictures. I negotiated Marky to the front of the line then started to head out when another mom waved at me with polarizing words “see you tomorrow for WorkDay!!” “WTF!!!” In my head. Then I turned and said “what’s that?” “We have to come here at 8am tomorrow and clean the stadium. Make sure you read the paperwork they gave you.” I did when I got home. Turns out I have snack stand duties, workday and a baskets galore event that I need to participate in to get my $100 back.

Final Burbie Blurb is NOT that I’m NOT signing my kid up for baseball again. Truth is, he’s enjoying himself, meeting new friends and getting closer with his school friends. Best part: the optics! He looks so adorbs in his baseball uniform, and running around on those bases.

Final Burbie Blurb: We’re experiencing a piece of America A non-diverse sport + $100 work bond + Accountability.

And Pops is loving every minute of it!

[charlotteburbie-blog]

Donald Trump in the Classroom? You betcha!

So Myles comes home upset last week because a boy in his class hurt his feelings and he wasn’t quite sure how he should respond. After hearing the events that lead up to Myles’ bad day, I needed a minute to think about how I should respond. I also wondered if this would be the first of many times my children would be “trumped” at school.

Apparently, this 11 year old thought it was his role to spread President Trump’s rhetoric about various racial groups among his peers. First, he spewed out inflammatory language about Mexicans. As a reminder, our President referred to Mexicans as rapists, criminals, and killers--insisting that America needs to build a wall to keep them out of the country. It seems President Trump has made Myles’ classmate quite a believer of these lies.

But wait, there’s more. Myles said the boy then started spreading negativity about black people. To further underscore his cruelty, he found a picture of a black person with a painted face and proclaimed, “And that would be you Myles!”

The other classmates, who were just as upset as Myles, asked the kid outright: “Are you a racist?”

And that elementary student faced his peers head on admitting that indeed--he was a racist.

I wrote the teacher and the principal the very next day, recounting the events as they were told to me. The teacher responded today stating that she spoke to the student and his parents and that Myles would receive a written apology.

A forced apology is better than nothing but will that punishment really change the heart and mind of the boy who hurt my son so deeply? Probably not.

I wonder if President Trump knew that when he said those irresponsible statements that those words would one day be used to crush a little boy--an elementary school student who on his worst day is the sweetest person I know.

I wonder if our President knew that.

[newjerseyburbie]

What to do with the lil burbies when it's freezing cold outside? Let 'em chop and watch you cook Sunday supper. #blacksintheburbs #burbiedollchronicles #burbiescanburn

[newjerseyburbie]

What to do with the lil Burbies when it's freezing outside? Let 'em chop and watch you cook. #burbiedollchronicles #blacksintheburbs #burbiescanburn