Remember the blog from last week about me re-naming Andrew to Michigan J. Frog? Cause he straight up clowned me in front of John Legend!  Well, Star Tribune gossip columnist CJ read it on the website and thought it was funny as hell.  Er'rebody except me thinks the story is funny.  Apparently Ms. Thang talked to her editors and  they decided to do a story on how my two year old son acted a fool in front of the Grammy winning R&B superstar! 

Let me just tell y'all something 'bout Ms. CJ, she is a hard pill to swallow.  She's great with kids, my two year old son fell in love with her.  But with adults, girlfriend ain't got the same charm.  We were in the beauty shop during the interview while she was taking some video of Andrew and the two of us were 'bout to fight. The owner of the salon was gonna call the cops. I swear, if I knew how to fight, I would have challenged her.  But y'all know I got beat up in 3rd grade by a cripple girl--so I ain't wanna take a chance on getting my wig split. 

Read the article about Andrew here and there is some video to go with it.

was going to be the next John Legend! At two years old my baby loves banging on the piano and singing. And he ain't shy about it. Anytime he sees a piano, he sits down and plays the keys and sings! So I thought "If I get him in lessons now at two years old, he'll be like ready for the Grammys by the time he turns 12!" NOT! Needless to say I done been taken to the cleaners by a broke a$$ piano teacher who promised he could teach my two year old how to read music. I don't know why I believed him, cause Andrew can't read English yet! We ain't got past the letter "G" with the alphabets...   more »

That's what everybody in my damned family is asking me.  Because my son is 2 1/2 years old and not potty trained, they want to have Andrew tested to make sure he ain't slow.  If he ain't a little "behind" they are convinced that I'm the laziest momma in the damned free world.

According to my momma, mother-in-law, and best friend Fanchon, Andrew should have been potty trained a year and a half ago.  I tried y'all, I really did, but at one year old, my son just didn't get it.  He peed in his big-boy Elmo under pants every single time.  He was like "Hey, what the hell? Why don't these drawers hold the pee in like my pampers do? And why aren't they lined with cotton? I'm catching too much air down here!"

After about three hours and five puddles of yellow water, I gave up potty training and put him back in his pampers.

The other day, I was talking to my grand momma who just thought I was the laziest momma alive cause Andrew wasn't going on "the potty".  So, I went to Target, bought him some big boy Elmo underpants and told him "If you gotta potty, tell mom and dad. Don't pee-pee in your big boy underpants." And he got it instantly!  I ain't have a thing to worry about.  He ain't had one accident since then. He's going on the potty, not wetting his big boy underpants and tells us every time if he has to "go".

I decided to call my girlfriend Fanchon to tell her about her god-son's accomplishment and she was unimpressed, "He ought to be peeing on the pot. Took y'all long enough!  Hell, he's 12 years old at this point. His underpants are the same size as Shawn's!"

"Yeah," I quipped, "I wash their drawers together when I"m doing laundry.  And you're right, they are the same damned size.  Sometimes I get them mixed up. In fact Shawn's at work right now with Elmo underpants on and Andrew is wearing Jockey's."

That girl laughed so hard she hung up in my face and called back.  "I didn't need that visual," she choked out through the laughter, "I didn't need to visualize Shawn at work with Elmo drawers on in a business meeting with a three-piece suit on. I ain't never gonna be able to look at him the same again!"

into an OUT HOUSE!  So we're trying to potty train the little two year old, and things are going pretty well. He'll do #1 on the pot, but not #2. Which is understandable... sometimes I wish I could just walk around and take a dump in my own pamper, and keep moving, keep grocery shopping, keep playing in the park... life would be a lot simplier!

But anyway, so I notice that every time the little Gremlin has to poopy, he goes to his play house.  Now, the damn thing must have cost my momma a good $300.  It's one of those Little Tikes deluxe play houses. Oh, it ain't no cheap buy!  So anyway, I picked up on the fact that every time he had to hunker down and "relieve himself" he would go in his play house, shut the door, sit down on his stool and use the restroom.  Sometime he'd read a book, other times he'd sit quietly.

The other day, he got really quiet, so I went in the play room to see what was going on, and I saw him, sitting there like a 65 year old man, pooping in his play house.  "Andrew," I called out, "don't you wanna go to the pot?"

"Mom," he waved me off, "I'm trying to poop." And he turned his head and finished doing his "business".  When he was done, brother man, opened the door, grabbed a pamper and came to me and said "Mom, I got a hunk of poop."

The boy done turned a $300 play house into an out house!

I grew up in Houston's 5th Ward, a historically black community. I ain't meet a white person until I was in 6th grade.  All my classmates were black, my teachers were black, folks at church were black; hell, even the cops patrolling my neighborhood were African Americans.

But we live in Minnesota, so we're always 'round white folks.  Usually, we is the only black folks in baby music classes or parenting class.  A lot of our friends are white--and these are people who love and adore Andrew as if he were their own son.  Folks like crazy Auntie Liz who works with me on the CrossRoads show.  Or my webmasters, Uncle Justin and Auntie Susie who he just thinks he can't live without!  Or his god-father, Uncle Briggs who routinely mails him treats!  My son is exposed to all kinds of cultures--and different races of people.  So he really doesn't know the difference between black folks and white folks--for him, at two years old, people are just plain old people, but...

The other day, my home boy Jeff (who is white) passed us up in the parking lot at the television station.  He leaned in to the car to say hello to Andrew.  At first my son ain't recognize him, but then he took a guess and said "Hey Uncle Justin!" to which Jeff replied, "No, I'm not Uncle Justin." So Andrew took another stab at it and said, "OK, hello Uncle Briggs!" and Jeff giggled, and told my son "No, I'm not Uncle Briggs either." Andrew gave me this look that implied, "Hey momma, I'm all out of white men. I only know two by name.  Which one is he? You mean to tell me there is more of 'em?"

And today, when we were at the mall looking for a Minnesota Lynx Simone Augustus jersey, Andrew saw a white lady that reminded him of his Auntie Liz--so he yelled out "Auntie Liz!!" the woman was kind enough to wave hello.  And throughout our adventure at the mall, the boy kept waving and calling out to er're white woman he saw, "Auntie Liz!!"  And he was put out when they didn't respond.

It was too funny. I picked up the phone, called Shawn at work and told him, "Baby, Andrew done ran out of white folks..."

He is beginning to notice differences and I can see his little brain working--trying to figure this thing out! 

While I'm walking around most of the time looking like Ms. Celie from The Color Purple, my husband and son are sharp as a tack. Shawn is always the best dressed and most dapper man in the room no matter where he goes; and 2 year old Andrew has followed in his daddy's foot steps. While Shawn gets a weekly manicure, Andrew sits in his stroller and files his nails. And the boy won't get his hands dirty for anything, when he falls on the ground, his palms are always up in the air. He ain't touching no dirt and no mud!   more »

I'm putting my son up for adoption and looking for a nice "foster family" to take him in until the deal is done. I can't and won't be ready for 2 years old for at least another ten or twenty years.  I can't keep up. I mean, I'm tired when I wake up in the morning, I'm tired from running all day, and by the time night time rolls around, I'm too tired to even lean over and kiss my husband!  I'm just worn the f)(*&k out!  Andrew is taking every piece of energy I have just trying to keep him safe.  The makers of One A Day should invent a vitamin that is specifically designed for parents of two year olds. Something that will give you a burst of energy to help get you through the day without collapsing from exhaustion or going insane.  Or perhaps the folks who make the Red Bull energy drink can give me something in an IV drip that can give me the extra boost I need to keep me going.

The other morning, I blinked and he was inside the stove looking for the "light". I mean literally, he had crawled inside the damn stove!  A few weeks ago, while I was trying to use the downstairs guest restroom, I heard the dryer come on.  That boy had opened the door, climbed up on top of the dryer and pressed the "start" button.  Last Friday, he was standing at the door looking at the garbage truck come by and clear out all the trash cans. He thinks it's fun to watch the big handle pick up the blue trash can and lift it high in the sky and dump all the waste out.  I thought he couldn't open the door, it was locked, and surely, I didn't know he had the "hand-eye" coordination to open it.  Well honey, I was DEAD WRONG. I looked for my son to give him a snack and couldn't find him--I thought he was playing hide and go seek in the house when I soon realized he was no where to be found.  I look out the window in a panic and realized that he had walked down the driveway and went to try and bring the trash can back up to the house.  We go to the zoo, he's trying to climb in the monkey cage.  I'm chasing him down and he's running faster than Carl Lewis. Hell, I'm fat for a reason, not because I can run fast, because my lazy ass likes sitting down and not moving very much.  My child is pushing me beyond my limitations... But the straw that broke the camel's back was this morning, when I was getting him ready to start the day and I was ironing his clothes--Andrew disappeared--got real quiet and stopped making a sound.  I knew something was wrong when I ain't hear the boy breathing. I just knew either my cell phone or my new pair of shoes were in the toilet.  I went in the bathroom and I couldn't find him--but I knew I was in trouble when the door to my hair care products was open.  I finally found my son with a head full of hair grease on his head. He had it caked on so thick, I couldn't even see his hair.  Oh child, I think I washed his hair for about 20 minutes before I got all that junk out.  Then, once I was done, he grabbed a shower cap and walked around the house for about an hour--like he had a jerry curl and he was singing lead vocals for Ready for the World!

I went to Victoria's Secret last night to buy two bras that cost me a total of 90-bucks. We're talking $45 a piece!! I wanted to see if I could either buy half a bra, or put both of 'em on lay-a-way. While I was at the cash register haggling with the "bra lady", my husband and son were play fighting with women's underwear on the other side of the store. I yelled at them to stop all the foolishness, but Shawn instructed me that he was just getting Andrew ready for the future, "because he'd be fighting over panties the rest of his life..."   more »

you know my little Andrew does baby modeling right? He's a regular in Target Portrait Studio and JC Penny, along with Manhattan Toy Company.  I mean, it ain't like he's Gary Coleman or Rodney Allen Ripey or anything, but he works on a regular basis.  Some of the stuff doesn't get published and other times, he poses for photos that wind up in industry books that don't get circulated to the public.  So, anyway, we were at Life Touch Portrait Studio recently, they are the company that takes photos for all the schools in the country.  They also do the advertising photos for companies like Target, Penny and a few other companies. They are a pretty big corporation with a very large campus with five or six buildings and a parking lot the size of a football field. They probably have more than 500 employees.  It's a fairly big operation. And we're honored that they love themselves some Andrew.  He goes to Lifetouch all the time and does modeling for them.  And we are very VERY grateful for that cause they're putting money in his college savings plan.  Otherwise, he'd be going to a trade school to learn how to be an auto mechanic.

So one day, we were at Lifetouch and Andrew was doing a Spring photo shoot for Target.  After he was done, the photographers were so impressed with his demeanor.  They kept saying "Oh he sits so well for a 2 year old.  Most kids his age are all over the place!" I wanted to tell them that he knows if he don't act right and make this money, won't be no school after 12th grade. 

One of the ladies in the studio asked me "Would he be able to pose for family photographs?" I was like "Oh yeah, I mean, we can come back whenever you want us to. I'll have to check with my husband to see if he's free, because his schedule is busy, but I am sure we can make something work."

She was so sweet when she told me, "Umh, we already have the family, we just would like Andrew to pose with them."

I got all excited, thinking me and Shawn was bout to be a modeling family, but they wanted my baby to pose with another momma and another daddy and a damn big sister and a dog.  And they were the most beautiful family I've ever seen.  I started to leave Andrew there and start a brand new family--cause my baby looked like he belonged with those folks!  He even "favored" the daddy, I damn  near wanted to check to see if I "knew" the guy before I married Shawn. 

Ain't that somethin? How would I ever think that these folks wanted my fat a$$ with crooked teeth and acne to be in their photographs? Child, I was so shame when I realized what was going on... all I could do was laugh...

So I'm being a "snooty booty" and acting like I'm better than er'rebody else cause I don't allow my child to watch television.  I mean, it had gotten to the point where I was looking down my nose at other moms who allowed their little darlings to view Nick programs or even Sesame Street.  Hell, we all know if it wasn't for School House Rock, my black ass would have never figured out what a noun is.  I'd be 36 years old still trying to pass 9th grade English.

I was talking to my momma on the phone the other day, being all "proper" when I declared, "Yeah, no television for Andrew, he has other things to do like learning to spell his name, recognizing his colors, world leaders, Martin Luther King quotes..." in the background, I was playing Teddy Pendegrass' Greatest Hits album.

My momma asked, "What the hell are you listening to at 9 o'clock in the morning?" 

I told her, "Oh, that's Teddy P's Close the Door, Andrew loves that song. That's his favorite song. He wakes up in the morning asking for Close the Door. He can even sing the first two lines."

My momma laughed at my crazy ass, "Oh," she chuckled, "so you won't let him watch an educational program like Sesame Street so he can learn his ABCs and his 123s, but you'll let him listen to Teddy Pendergrass sing about having sex!  Yeah, that makes a lot of damn sense Sheletta!"

That's my son Andrew's new favorite thing to say!  Whenever he bumps his knee or scrapes his elbow after falling on the concrete running outside, he turns to me, with the saddest face and sighs, "Mommy, kiss my elbow, make it feel better!" And of course, as a mommy, I run to his aide and plant a kiss right on the dirty elbow that's full of grass and rock and dirt and probably dog poop.  My baby boy thinks there is magical healing power in my kiss.  How adorable, he's just two years old, when he turns 12, he won't want me within a one mile radius of him--let alone kiss him in public--so I cherish these tender mommy/baby moments!

And at two years old, they happen often!  He's always running from something or to something--lose his balance and take a tumble--causing scrapes and bruises!  His knees look like I've been stabbing him with a letter opener, I'm half tempted to buy the boy some knee pads and a helmet.  He's as clumsy as his momma!

But I'm glad, cause that means more kisses for mommy!  "Mommy, my leg hurts, kiss it, make it better."  How precious, at least I thought it was precious until...

A few weeks back, we went to see his pediatrician and found out he has a condition called penile adhesion, where his circumcision was "botched" and his little "frog" ain't growing the way it's supposed to be growing and things are "stuck" down there.

We were looking up the condition online and experts suggest we take him to see his doctor.  We were hoping to get a referral to a urologist or a specialist who could see him about his "situation".  But Andrew's doctor is old school, she was like "Oh, I'll take care of this right here and now..." and proceeded to RIP my baby's frog--thus unsticking it.  He screamed to the top of his lungs and cried like I ain't never heard him cry before. Hell, I was crying too.  And he looked at me with the saddest face and said, "Mom, my pee-pee hurt.  Kiss it mom, make it better..." 

out of all the chil'len at the park yesterday morning, picked up dog poop and played with it for 5 minutes before his momma realized that it wasn't a stick? You guessed it! My Andrew. Y'all know I'm germ-phobic! When we are at home, we even play with "clean sand" and "clean dirt". So when my boy came up to me gripping dog poop, I almost fainted...   more »

there is a kids' show on Nick that is geared toward youngsters--but the guy who hosts it has got to be a pedophile! The program is called Yo Gabba Gabba and the guy who interacts with the kids is a tall skinny black guy who wears horn-rimmed glasses, an orange hat, a spandex jump suit with a white belt and resembles Arsenio Hall. If he ain't the black version of Pee-Wee Herman, I don't know who is!    more »

with the two year olds in my play group who have private tutors! These kids are sharp--I'm talking they are doing fractions and reading chapter books. So yesterday, I decided to try and teach Andrew who his world leaders were. He knows Barack Obama, John McCain and George W. Bush. I should have left it there, I pushed my baby to the limits when I tried to teah him who Condaleeza Rice was. It was especially hard for him to keep it all straight while he was eating smothered pork chops, rice and okra. Now, when you ask my two year old who the Secretary of State is, his response is "Rice and Gravy"!   more »