Xavier and the Mexicans.

Xavier (my 11 year old) just started tennis.  Today was his 2nd practice.  We were on our way to the park and he asked me, 

"Mom, can you stay with me at practice today?"  

Me, "Why?" 

Xavier, "Because the Mexican moms look at me crazy!"  

Me, "What?  Why would they look at you crazy?"  

Xavier, "I think it's 'cause I'm white!"

My husband and I exchange a look and fight back the giggles.

This kid is a quarter white and he is my lightest child.  I crack race jokes all day long in our home so I have no illusions as to where this all came from. :)  I'm Samoan and my husband is half Tongan and white.  We clown on each other CONSTANTLY!  All with love of course! We cracked up at Xavier's request.  

However, we had errands that were time sensitive so we couldn't accommodate him today.  

"Son, just go play tennis.  Maybe you had a silly face on or you were doing something crazy and that's why they gave you those looks. I'm sure no one cares that you're white."  

And we sent him on his way!

Meanwhile, my husband is protesting in the 

background that he's Tongan. 

Calm down homeboy.  We get it.  You're "Tongan". 

lol

Later, when we picked him up RD asked in a teasing tone, 

"Did the Mexicans look at you funny today?"  

Xavier, "No."  

RD, "See! You got all worked up for nothing!"  

Xavier, "The Mexicans weren't there today.  I think they only come on Mondays." 

I just lol'd and smh. 

He is so my kid.

=D 

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The Tongan version of "Stand by Me", with a tiny bit more violence.

I got to sit and listen to my husband and his cousin exchange tales from the old days today.  I can’t tell you how much I love those old nostalgic trips down memory lane.  First, RD would say something and that would entice a, “Oh yeah!  That was crazy!” followed by a hearty chuckle from both men.  I know all of the names that were being thrown around but, sadly, I haven’t had the pleasure of actually meeting a few of them in the flesh, but I feel like I know them all so well.  The repetition of my hubby's tales from the hood have solidified all of these characters firmly in my mind. 

My favorite story from today’s rap session went something like, “Remember when Heef and I sent you over the wall to get that one guy?” 

Henry, “Yeah! (LOL)  Man, I thought I had him too!” LOL

RD whoops back, “Yeah, and then he started slamming your head into the ground!”

Henry with equal levity, “Yeah!  I was gettin’ my butt kicked!” And then they both start laughing hysterically. 

RD, “Man, when he started banging your head into that stucco?!?!  You came up and your head had all these rocks!” He’s gesturing to his forehead.  Again, they both start dying!  Henry does not seem to have any remorse or resentment about this memory.  He’s loving it just as much as RD.

I turn to Henry who’s grinning ear to ear, “Why is that funny to you?  That sounds horrible!” He just shrugs and smiles at me.

RD with a wistful grin, “Ahh,  good times!  Good times!”  Henry nods and smiles in complete agreement with his cousin.

Me, “How is that ‘good times’?”  Their glee is infectious at this point and even though I can’t see how this particular story could be such a happy memory for either of them, I can’t help but laugh with them.  Idiots.  Freakin’ hilarious idiots.

RD looks at me like the answer should’ve been clear as day, “Uh, because if you survived it, IT WAS GOOD TIMES!”  Now, both guys are doing that high pitched laugh with one hand over their mouths and the other one doing that semi high-five to the other from across the table.  LOL!  So ghetto. This is how it is when you grow up in the hood.  No hard feelings about the old war stories. 

My husband grew up with what I like to affectionately call his “Pack of Wolves”.  At any given time, whether it was home, school, or church, there were at least 3 to 5 boys together.  At least. They roved the streets like they owned them.  Kind of like the Tongan version of “Stand by Me”. Only on a slightly more savage scale with a tiny bit more violence. ;)  There is a rotation of about a dozen names that go with any of RD’s childhood memories.  By all accounts they sound like the “bad element” I would warn my sons not to get mixed up with. Heck, I'd probably threaten bodily harm to them if they had friends like those guys. And yet, I wish my boys had the kind of comradery he had.  I know that many of these boys, now all grown men with families of their own, had a rough life and because of some of their poor choices several of them are now scattered to the wind, but they always had each other.  And they took care of one another.  As bad as some of them were, they never let my husband get into too much trouble.  They were like a gang that you couldn’t get jumped into.  For most of them, you had to be born into it.  There were a lucky few that were not related by blood, but try figuring out which ones they were!  If you go strictly by the facts of the stories and the way any of them would repeat the names of their fellow partners in crime, you’ll never be able to discern the difference. There really isn’t a point to calling any of them cousins or life long friends.  I hate having to describe any of them as my husband’s cousins. These guys are more like brothers to him.  Then and now.  And I love and appreciate all of them. <3

Does Anyone Know If Toys R Us is Hiring?

I just found out that I got a second interview 

with that bank from last week.  

I'm scrambling now to find something to wear.  Not a lot of "professional" options in my closet these days.  

Briggy sees me trying things on and says, 

"Mommy, where are you going tomorrow?" 

"I have another job interview at the bank." 

I tell him in soft tones.  

"What's an interview?" he asks. 

"You know what a job is?  It's what daddy has.  

I'm trying to get one of those."  

"But why do you want to work at a bank?"

"Well, they have lots of stores close to us. So, if I get this job I can still be close to you guys."

His eyebrows are furled.  

I can tell he's processing this. He's giving it lots of thought. 

Finally he says,

"Why don't you get a job at Toys R Us? You could work there!"

I laugh a little.  

"Well, I guess I never thought about them. I guess I could." 

"Mommy, if you get a job at Toys R Us I'll call you the best mom in the whole world!"

"Okay, my love.  I'll keep them in mind. Now, go to bed!"

As he's skipping back to his room I hear, 

"If you work there we can get all the toys we want!!!"  

Can I just tell you that 20 minutes before this conversation I wanted to pull all of my hair out?  They were all driving me nuts!  My husband, my children, my life!  But this guy always gets to me.  I have such a soft spot for him.  And now I kinda want to get a job at Toys R Us. =D

Teacher, do you know what my mommy told me?

During our Relief Society meeting today (that's the women's class at church for the uninitiated) the sisters were given the opportunity to share their thoughts and testimonies about Our Savior and His gospel.  I love to share my thoughts via the written word but I'm not always so comfortable in front of a crowd so I stayed pretty glued to my seat and listened quite contently to the other women share their experiences.   

The first one up today was Ika's primary teacher.  She shared that today she taught her class about testimonies.  "What is a testimony?" was going to be her topic, but like a good teacher who is in tune with the spirit she quickly realized that today her 4, 5, and 6 year olds were going to steer their discussion.  They had a visitor.  She told us about how she started to introduce him to the others, but then gestured toward me, "Ika is Bonnie's son."  She looked right at me, "And you know how he is.  He is something else!" My eyes get wide and I catch my breath. Oh, no. She went on to say my son spoke up immediately about the new kid, "I know him!  He's cool!"  

Teacher, "You think he's cool, Ika?"  

Ika, "Yeah!"  

Teacher, "I think he's cool, too! Do you guys want to be cool like 

him?"  

The whole class cheers, "Yes!"  

Ika says, "Teacher, do you know what my mommy told me?"  

Now, mind you, this story is being relayed to us in our class.  I am hearing this for the first time with everyone else.  At this point I'm cringing!  Ika is 4 and I am a bit of a loose cannon at home.  I kid with my children and joke around with them constantly.  Sometimes I am sarcastic and sometimes I am no nonsense. No matter which kid you're talking about, if any of them were to say in public, "Do you know what my mommy told me?"  I'd want to die right there!  Any number of things could follow that statement! But what she said next made me want to cry.  

Ika, "My mommy told me that Heavenly Father is cool.  And she said that He loves me. I want to be cool like Him, too."  

She then took her cue from my sweet Ika and parlayed that into how "cool" Our Father in Heaven is and how we can all be cool like him and following Him and believing in Him is very cool.  

I can't begin to tell you how often I doubt myself.  I second guess everything about my parenting style.  Am I doing anything right?  What am I doing that my children are silently vowing to never repeat with their own children someday?  Are they happy?  Am I too hard on them? Am I too lenient?  Do they feel loved?  I believe in Christ, but am I doing enough to teach them about Him?  Have my choices and actions helped to build their foundations on a rock or on sand?  And then every once in a while a moment like this comes along where someone outside of our bubble will tell me of something that happened with them and then this stillness comes over me.  Suddenly, I'm soaking in every word and I truly start to question if this is just a dream. Did I just make this up?  Did she?  But today it was in public.  There were others around.  I didn't even know she was in the room, let alone going up to bare her testimony.  She had no reason to tell a tall tale about my son.  This was an unprovoked truth being shared.  And just like that, the Lord used this woman to fill my cup.  They're okay.  I'm not doing a terrible job.  They know that Heavenly Father loves them, and I am the one that did that.  I planted the seed.  I am not a perfect anything… Blogger, mother, wife, daughter.  But the Lord sees me and is mindful of me and my doubts and He sent that woman into my class today to give me a sign that I am headed in the right direction. 

This is my testimony of my Father in Heaven. He lives. And He is cool.  

Amen.