J Man is the opposite of J Girl. She was the ying, he the yang. She was the social butterfly, he’s the video game tennis player. We were never sure when J Girl went out on weekends what story or adventure she’d have before returning home. J Man, well he is at home, unless he has a tennis tournament or begging to go to Best Buy. J Man is a young man of few words. I’ve been told this numerous times by many. I agree because unless they’re hiding in a closet when he and I are at home, they don’t know the truth. That boy can TALK!! Again, the opposite of J Girl. Of course since she couldn’t keep her stories straight, it was in her best interest not to talk. The truth always had a way of sneaking out.

Now I’ve always suspected J Man was growing up, maturing, but he’s sneaky. He allows me to mother him to a point, but as I discovered last weekend the boy is savier than I give him credit. Sorry honey. J Girl was always strutting her independence (of course it was all in her mind). J Man is sutle. He’s independent and initutive, when it serves his purpose.

J Man is a high school senior this fall and we’re doing the college tour this summer. We spent last Saturday visiting a college in Indiana and afterwards we went to dinner downtown. Now in Indy, most of the places are closed until four in the afternoon. We wanted to be home by five. Hubby chose Weber Grill (I don’t want to cook anymore after eating there, but that’s another story), mainly a steak place, but the fish was excellent. We drove past and hubby asked J Man to get out and make sure it was open. So he did, and it was. Hubby was parking in the garage across the street and I was going to get out and go with my son. Hubby said no, I stayed in the car until it was parked. Now here is where the overprotective part comes in. When we reached the street, no J Man. Some one had stolen my baby!! Hubby asked me to go inside and look for him. I did, he wasn’t and I freaked. “I told you I should have gotten out of the car!!” I shouted at hubby, who is very use to my hysterics. I walked down the street freaking out, while hubby stood quietly and patiently at the sidewalk. When I returned he asked me to go back and see if he was there. “At the bar?” I retorted. But I went in, and this time went upstairs, and asked the hostess if they’d seen a young, tall black teenager. She said calmly, “Table for three? I seated him.” Then I felt his familiar big hand on my shoulder. J Man had gotten a booth, the bread and butter had already been served, and he was drinking a Coke. Needless to say, my two men had a major laugh at my expense for thirty minutes. I ordered a cosmopolitan. Okay, so I was afraid someone had kidnapped my six foot three inch, almost seventeen year old son.

Now, the most interesting part of this story, if you can stop laughing at me for a moment, is that an upscale restaurant would actually seat a young black male with adults nowhere in sight. Kudos to Weber Grill for respecting my son and kudos to J Man for taking charge of the situation. Of course it didn’t hurt he was extremely hungry.

Me (Standing at the bottom of the stairs): Hey! Where are you going?
Myself: (Standing at the top of the stairs): Huh?
Me: Where are you going? Are you coming down, because I’m coming up.
Myself: I’m not sure anymore. I forget. Thanks for interrupting my train of thought.
Me: That doesn’t take much. (Me said under her breath)
Myself: I heard you. Anyway I came up here to do something. Damn, what was it? (Tapping foot and shaking head) Oh that’s it! I was going to fold clothes and then read.
Me: You can’t fold clothes now. JGirl isn’t feeling well and we may have to take her to urgent aid.
Myself: Can’t that girl come home without being sick? I really need to finish cleaning upstairs before one of us takes her.
Me: I just mopped the upstairs bathroom floor and cleaned the shower.
Myself: (Silent) You did? When?
Me: (Rolling my eyes and sighing): About an hour ago?
Myself: Really? I just changed the sheets?
Me: What? Really? I just changed them too? Damn! Did you clean the bathroom too?
Myself: Are you crazy? Of course not!
Me: Yeah, I thought not. Okay, why are you coming downstairs?
Myself: Hmm, to see what you were doing? You’ve been talking to yourself all day. No one in this house is listening to you.
Me: I was mumbling because no one put Christmas decorations upstairs.
Myself: I didn’t want to. At least I got the tree up.
Me: YOU!!
Myself: Well, JMan helped.
Me: You couldn’t remember where the tree lights were.
Myself: You threw them out last year. Said we were going to get new ones, better ones.
Me:(Silence) Oh, I said that?
Myself: Told you, you’d forget. Now why are you coming upstairs?
Me: I forget. I’m tired. Can’t we just lay down and take a nap?
Myself: Sounds good to me. But remember, Hubby, JMan and JGirl expect dinner and you realize that means the three of us must cook.
Me: Why? We’ll have to do it again the next day.
Myself: Get a grip. Have you seen our glasses?
Me: Nope, you had them on last while you were addressing holiday cards.
Myself: Frack, I was doing the cards. Have you seen ‘I’?
Me: Nope. I is nowhere to be found.
Myself: Hey hold it a second. Let me look in our bedroom. (Myself goes to look in the bedroom and yells from the door) I is already taking a nap. And our glasses are on the nightstand.
Me: Save a space for me. (Runs up the stairs and slams the door shut behind her)
JMan: Hey Mom! What’s for dinner?

Lesson: Multitasking sucks!

I made the trip with her to move and it was the first and perhaps last time, she and I will ever ride in a car for over ten hours. Not enough Starbucks, because I was afraid I’d have to make pit stops every hour, prolonging our trip. Once I dropped her off, we found an apartment the day I was leaving, that is ten minutes tops from her job. I flew home and happily thought about how proud my parents would be of her. I also wiped my brow with relief, just a little more helpful assistance from her Papi and me and she’d be flying solo. So what happens the next morning when I turn on my computer? There she is, “Hi Mommi.” What the f**ck! Her company has Yahoo Instant Message. So now, every weekday I know when she arrives at work and when she leaves. It’s the inbetween hours that are interesting. We can converse briefly about how she’s doing, but this is also a way for her to ask about problems with her hair, her car, her stomach…. JGirl is grown alright. Let me give you an incident which proves when they grow up, move out, but they never really leave. JGirls’ mantra when she experienced a problem with, her bank not getting her information correct was, “My Daddy will be here this weekend and if you haven’t fixed this, he’ll be in to see you.” Yep, Papi was on his way down that weekend, but he had no idea he was going to have to do battle with a local bank. I bet they were scared.

Okay, that wasn’t the incident, but this is. Halloween, I’m trying to pass out candy to the multitudes that show up on our doorstep, when she calls. JGirl is at the gas station and the gas door won’t open. Of course, she’s on empty. ‘Hang on Chicka’, I almost said, ‘Mommi will be right down in nine hours, eleven if I stop and get a Starbucks Venti.’ I didn’t think she’d see the humor. So we discuss what she should do. I tell her to go to Sears, she tells me Sears isn’t open. It’s six o’clock here, so it’s only seven there, but she says it’s not the same, they close early in the south. Huh? So I answer the doorbell one more time, then I google Sears, and from Illinois call the Sears automotive in her area. Hey, they are open!! Then we discuss what happens if she runs out of gas on the way to Sears. Well I tell her, as I open my front door three more times, she has AAA, so if she runs out of gas, they’ll come and they’ll be forced to open the gas door. Now she’s upset because I’m choosing to answer the door and pass out candy instead of devoting one hundred percent of my time to her problem. We go through a few more scenarios each one spelling increasing doom, ending with her needing a new car. Finally, she makes it to Sears and they pry the door open, but she must take it to the dealership to be fixed. Long story short, she does and the repair work takes a day longer than she wanted. Meanwhile as she waited for her car to be repaired, being the mature, on her own woman she is, she IM’s me and ask me or Papi to call the dealership and see what the holdup is. Outcome: her car was fixed on time. Conclusion: A parents job is never done!

Well that shut her up, she went to sleep in the car. Of course, the following Monday, she received an email offering her the job of her dreams. Spoiled, intelligent, beautiful brat! I’m so very proud of her.

We drove to Atlanta last weekend and the trip was uneventful, except she didn’t like the way I drove her car. Operating on just one cup of Starbucks, she’s very lucky I didn’t crash. We looked for apartments and after viewing one gated complex with lighted tennis courts, a large swimming pool, a great fitness center, I was convinced this was the place she needed to live. JGirl reminded me, she would be paying the rent and we’d only be providing financial support for a couple of months. Stop laughing, yeah like that’s gonna happen. And Atlanta will have ten inches of snow this winter. We did find an apartment complex, within her budget, ten minutes from work, the neighborhood she wanted to live in, and one I was very pleased with.

Now, it’s Popi, her father’s turn. There’s furniture to be bought, first month’s rent to be paid, a computer and television to be shipped, along with at least sixty pairs of shoes. Okay, not sixty, more like seventy-five.

I left Atlanta, numb, expericing all sorts of mixed emotions and unable to pin down just one. I recalled when I graduated from Howard and moved into my first apartment. My parents bought my furniture and sent me on my way with love, admiration and pride. Mommy and Daddy are dead now, but the generation trend continues and I know I’ve done right by JGirl and their legacy. Neither of my parents had beyond a six grade education, but together they raised me, paid for my Catholic education, college, graduate school and two cars, one used and one new. Don’t get any ideas, JGirl, I was an only child, we’ve got JMan, your brother. I feel their pride and I see my pride in my daughter. Our relationship is changing and I love it. She’s more like me than she realizes, but that’s okay, I turned out pretty good.

I salute you JGirl and all the other JGirls who are experiencing life on their own. Much luck, prayer and success.

I told J-Girl, not to wait for some man to rescue her. She and her female friends are smart enough, attractive enough, to provide their own wayin their lives. As young black educated women, the statistics aren’t good she’ll find a young college or post college educated black male, not on the down low, doesn’t have children, doesn’t have a drug addiction, and my favorite, DOES has a JOB. However, I was amazed and pleasantly shocked, to see all the Brothers she hung around in college and has met. They’re the opposite of all the above and have jobs. But, the numbers are few, the women are many. Marriage is difficult today, it’s too easy to dump a relationhips and move on.

Pink sings, “Whatever happened to the dreams of a girl president? She’s dancing in the video next to 50 cent.” Pink states, she doesn’t think girls are stupid, they just ‘act stupid’, because that’s what they see. What the hell happened to Lindsay Lohan? Girls with money to burn, wearing shoes that would feed a family of twelve for months, tight outfits evidently three sizes too small, with a price tag, eight times too high, bumping and grinding in some overweight dude’s lap, or against a car, or against another girl. This is what today’s ‘real’ girl has to deal with.

One time, J-Girl and her friends decided they wanted to date gangstas. Not real gangstas. I’m talking the ‘wanna be’ gangstas. She discovered, they didn’t have any money like the ones in the videos, no real car, at least one that wasn’t about to be repossessed and no job. I called these guys, Cinderfellas. Guys looking for girls like J-Girl who have the means to provide them with the material goods. When J-Girls’ ex-boyfriend, asked her why she’d held the same job for three years, when he couldn’t stay at one for three months, I thought I’d kill him. Since when did job stability and a positive employment history be a bad thing? Luckily, she grew out of this phase. The spoiled brat that she is, couldn’t deal with visiting an apartment with no heat in the middle of a Chicago winter. Plus, she grew into herself and realized she was smart, she was talented, she was beautiful and damnit, she could do better! Blew his mind!

Young ‘real’ African American females have to contend with the hootchy mamas shaking their butts and weaves in music videos and think they have to act like them to get a guy. They try to wear the same outfits, but when you’re sixteen years old and a size eighteen, you can’t squeeze into a pair of fourteen jeans. But, they do.

Karrine Steffans, a hip hop dancer, has appeared in numerous music videos. She earned the nickname, Superhead. I ain’t even gonna explain that one. What a name to put on your resume. Karrine was on Oprah, crying about how she was done wrong by the rappers she worked and slept with. Her book, Confessions of a Video Vixen, was a hit, and now she’s gonna do porn. What a step in the right direction.

Men want smart women. They may date, sleep with and talk about the ‘hot women’. But they want a smart woman they can have an intelligent conversation with. Yes, they want her to be attractive, but as I’ve lived and seen, what’s beauty to one person, may not be to another. Usher, sang, “We want a lady on the streets, but a freak in the bed.” That’s nice honey. But what do women want? I’m hoping J-Girl and her friends continue to ask and get the answers they want to that question.

Thankfully, J-Girl and her friends, listen to Mary J Blige. Mary thought she was ugly, but she’s absolutely black and beautiful to me. She’s found her soul mate and she sings about finding love, not allowing yourself to be hurt and abused because you think you won’t find anyone else. Mary’s been there, done that, and come out better for it.

The scene: Parent is sitting on the deck. It’s a beautiful afternoon. The sky is blue, birds are singing and the temperature is in the mid-70s’. You’re having an ice cold drink. Daughter comes out to join you. Great, quality time.

Parent: “Hi honey. How’s the job search going?”

Young Adult Child: “Are you saying I’m not looking for a job?”

Parent: (quizzical look on face.) “No, I didn’t say you weren’t looking for a job. I asked how the search was going.”

Young Adult Child: “I’m looking. I mean the tone in your voice sounds like you don’t believe I’m looking.”

Parent: “I didn’t say you weren’t looking, honey. Your Dad and I know you’re looking. Many jobs in your field may already be filled. A lot of graduates were interviewing early in their senior year or last winter.” (Bad comment, should have not said it)

Young Adult Child: (Now sulking) “So what you’re saying is, I really haven’t been looking? I mean I had a full schedule this last year. I’ve been looking. I’ve got a couple of interviews lined up in Rome next week.”

Okay, she’s really not going to Rome for interviews, but by the time this conversation is over, you may want to send her – in a FedEx box.

Parent: “Rome? Next week? Have you discussed this with your father? Do you have a passport? Hey, who’s paying for the trip?” (We know the answer to the last question, but hell, why not ask it.)

Young Adult Child: No, MOTHER. Not Rome, Italy. Rome, New York. I’ve been looking at airline ticket prices, but no one will discuss this with me. Daddy’s not speaking to me. I hate to ask you for money, but until I have a job, I have to. You don’t think I have interviews, do you?”

Parent:(Now wishing there was rum in her cold drink) “Huh? I haven’t heard you say anything about airfares and with the holiday weekend coming up, prices are sure to increase. As for Daddy, he’s been working on a really difficult deal at work and trying to talk to him at midnight, ain’t such a good idea.”

Young Adult Child: (Now whose voice has gone whiny.) “Now you’re telling me I spend too much of your money. I really do have interviews, see you still don’t believe me? I can’t wait to get a job and move out. I don’t think Daddy likes me anymore.”

Parent:(Hmm, maybe I should move out) I didn’t say you were spending too much money. We expect to pay some of your expenses until you find a job. If you haven’t found one in your major by the time we return from the family vacation, you can get a part time job. You shouldn’t take a job unless it’s what you want to do. And your father does like you. What gave you such an idea?”

Young Adult Child: “See, I told you, you were mad at me. And what about this family vacation. You asked me what I wanted for graduation. I told you and it turned into a family vacation. We’ve never been on a family vacation. I think I need a new cell phone. Will you buy me one?”

Parent: “Buy you a new cell phone? Why? You bought that one because all your friends have it. Considering how much the vacation is costing, I don’t think so.”

Young Adult Child: “So it’s my fault the family vacation is costing so much? And Daddy’s mad at me.”

Parent: (This child really should go to law school) “For the last time, Daddy is not mad at you.”

Young Adult Child:”Why are you yelling at me?”

Parent: “I’m not yelling -yet.” (Takes a sip of her drink. Thinks she’s having a heat stroke.)

Young Adult Child: “See, I told you, you didn’t think I was looking for a job. I really have.”

Parent: “Right.”

Young Adult Child: “What do you mean by ‘Right’? You’re hurting my feelings. It’s just like at graduation when you promised you’d come to the BBQ and didn’t come.”

Parent: “Okay, for the very last time, we didn’t KNOW where it was. You didn’t give us directions.”

Young Adult Child: “You hurt my feelings by not coming. Everyone else’s parents were there.”

Parent: (Silent. Understaniding why some animals eat their young.) “Well, what were we talking about? Oh, job interviews.”

Young Adult Child: “Well, can we talk about this later. I’ve got to meet my girlfriend. Here’s the information I got on flights. I tried to find the cheapest one. You don’t have to worry, I have Soro Sisters to stay with. You think Daddy will give me some spending money?”

Parent: (Okay, brain says don’t say this, but what the fuck)
“Just out of curiosity ( and pure evil on my part), how did you manage job interviews around the holiday? Won’t some companies be closing early?”

Young Adult Child: (Silence-stalling) “My interviews are after the holiday weekend.”

Parent:”Okay.” (This is also a party visit – gotcha)

By now, Parent is totally exhausted and needs a nap.

Be warned, this is purely a defense mechanism used by children. They are caught in between being a child, dependent on their parents, and be an adult, not quite able or ready to cut the string that bind. If they’ve been living away from home, it’s very difficult to return to the nest, although they love being caught in the safety net. Their behavior should not be taken to heart – unless they’re still living with you, five years after graduating.

JGirl really should go to law school and become a defense attorney for white collar criminals. She could get Kenneth Lay and Jeff Skilling acquitted in no time.
I can hear her argument now, “It’s not their fault they lost billions of dollars. Someone should have been watching them. Can you show me the actual dollars?”

But what I didn’t know is JGirl loves shoes. Before she gets angry with me for discussing this, and we’ve got four more days to go. Let me say this: she has great taste in shoes, and she hits the sales rack first, finding hot looking shoes at fifty percent or more in discount price. I’m trying to remember if I had a shoe thing. Yes, I did. And we’re talking Joan and Davids’, Ann Klein, Ann Taylor and the higher the heel the better. So, I understand. However, our spare room looks like a shoe store. I’m wondering if I could, perhaps sell a few pair? Naw, she’d yell at me and then make me buy her new ones. I could try to wear hers, but we don’t wear the same size.

What are shoes? Why do women have a love affair with them? Why do stores have larger, brighter shoe departments for women, than for men? At JGirls’ graduation, an Honorary Doctorate was presented to Cloris Leachman, the actress. The woman is from Iowa and is eighty years old. Last movie I saw her in was Scary Movie 4. We won’t dwell on her acting in the movie, but damned if she wasn’t wearing the hottest pair of four inch pale peach shoes! She wasn’t tottering, she strutted down the aisle with no assistance! Cloris, you go Girlfriend!

Then I understood, JGirls’ affection as well as every other women’s love of shoes. No matter what outfit you’re wearing, it can be jeans, capris, an old suit, whatever. A hot pair of shoes dresses it up, makes us look good and we can find a pair at any price. Even Payless has great looking shoes. Just ask Star Jones, of course, she’s no longer a spokesperson for them. We may not be able to afford Manolos’, but we can find shoes to make us feel like we’ve spent five hundred dollars for a pair.

When walking down the street, check yourself when you look at other women. What do you look at first, second and third? Somewhere in the top three are the shoes. Men don’t check out other men’s shoes. But they will check out women’s feet. And since it’s almost summer, in order to wear sandals or any open toed shoe, a pedicure is required. Of course, suffering a pedicure with parrafin wax and oils is a real drag, but we don’t want our shoes to suffer with ugly feet.

JGirl graduated from college on Mother’s Day. Leave it to her and Drake University to make it all about the students on Mom’s Day. It was a beautiful ceremony. I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry at her high school graduation either. I must have cried myself dry at her eighth grade graduation. I sat in awe. Didn’t we just sent this girl off to first grade? Didn’t we just have First Communion? There are two other girls she grew up, and they also graduated. I find it amazing how beautiful, intelligent and spoiled they are. They’re on their way to living a successful fun filled life. At least I hope so, I definitely enjoyed my single life. So much so by the time I was twenty-eight, Mommy wanted to know if she’d get grandchildren before she was too old to enjoy them. Still took me another two years to find GMan, but Mommy and Daddy enjoyed their grands for many years.

JGirl is now a young, unemployed college graduate moving back home. Anybody else experienced this? Still experiencing it? JMan isn’t happy about her return. He placed second singles in Boys Tennis Conference. Awesome job!

People say her return will be an adjustment for us. I’m here to tell you, the adjustment for us won’t be as bad as it will be for her – if she makes it so. She’s afraid she won’t fit in. For the first couple of weeks, she won’t. That’s just the plain truth. We’ve developed our own routines and habits. She’ll feel out of place, but she is a truly loved member of our family. Hope she realizes this. I’m looking forward to seeing her face, talking to her, yelling at her, hugging her.

Next week, I’m going to do a Top Five List of Things I’ve Learned from JGirl. Monday, we’ll start with shoes.

Also, next week, Simone Elkes, a soon to be published Young Adult writer, will be answering questions on my Writing Page. I know the majority of us don’t write young adult, but the market has changed and Simone will be addressing those changes and how she got in the YA market, which is very hot.

As for my other passion, tennis. My team made it to the semi-finals. The other club brought out their big guns and clobbered us. Nevertheless, we had a GREAT run and I’m very proud of them. Oh yeah, I’m hosting our year end team party in two weeks.

Apparently, I’m very busy. Hope you are too. Keep writing.

We’re quite proud of JGirl. She’s smart, attractive, more self-assured, and values the support we’ve given her. She’s been my rock when my parents died. The love she had for them, was demonstrated over and over. I remember watching her kneel at my mother’s casket, and pray. I knew then, my mother was pleased. She adored JGirl. So did my father. She is their first grandchild. My Mommy said she wanted to live to see her granddaughter grow up. Well, Mommy spent her final Christmas in our home when JGirl turned twenty-one.

But now, I have to address these announcements and send them to friends and family. People who have been through the fun and crazy times with this girl. People who have listened to me whine, cry, and laugh about the things she’s done. I’m excited about graduation. So is her dad, but he’d be even more excited if she came home with a job! That’s the next phase, living with this twenty two year old, while she looks for employment. Right before I finished grad school, my mother asked me if I could find a job in Washington, DC. “Don’t you want me to come home?” I said. “Yes, on the weekends. If you came home to live like your father wants you to, I’ll have to kill both of you. You’re use to staying out, and you know how your father is.”
Smart woman. I was able to find a job, and come home on the weekends to visit.

My relationship with my mother changed when I finished school. Just like my relationship with JGirl, it’s more open, mature, and close. Of course, Mommy still didn’t want to hear about my sex life! I’m looking forward to her coming home, and I’m really looking forward to her moving out! So, it’s back to the announcements, a few tears and a few laughs as I remember her as a child and how much my parents loved her. Uh, JGirl if you read this, don’t forget honey, your grandparents were crazy about your brother too!

Love Ya, Smooches!