For Real Son!
Writer’s block hit me, which is why I’m not a writer. I had a deadline of September 18th and I just couldn’t meet it. My brain froze and all I could ever get down on paper was an intro, not enough to share my thoughts on the No Wedding, No Womb Movement. I know I’ll never have another child until I’m married, but I just couldn’t articulate why…until now. So here’s what I think about the whole matter and if you know anything about me, you know that I believe that what I think matters.
Cinda gets on my damn nerves I love my daughter. She’s smart, beautiful, and absolutely hilarious. She’s charismatic, a sweetheart and she adores her mommy. She is also a smart-mouthed brat. Last Saturday when I should have been finalizing this post, I was having a fit because she was being a naughty ass and I couldn’t take it. Finally, my mother offered to take her to her father and I felt as though God Himself had shined His light into my apartment. After I drank a glass of wine and watched an episode of Project Runway online, I realized I didn’t want to ship my baby away when she was being too much for me to handle. I got on my mother’s last nerve at least twice a day and her response to my terrible assedness: “Go in there witcha Daddy”. My parents divorced when I was 11 and when my younger brother became too much for my mom to handle alone, she sent him to live with my dad. Had my father still been in our house, my brother just would have gotten his ass whipped by Daddy and all would have been right in the universe. It’s so much easier to guiltlessly discipline a child with two parents in a household because no one has to be the bad guy all the time.
It’s much more difficult to walk away from a bad marriage than a bad relationship and while some marriages are unhealthy, raising a child in a two parent household saves lives. The life of the child who sprayed an entire can of air freshener in the bathroom to hide the smell of her bowel movement which required an entire roll of toilet paper to remove the skid marks from her tiny little butt. Before you decide to become a baby mama/daddy, remember it’s a whole lot easier to send Junebug and his F-stricken report card to the other room for his daddy to take care of than it is to call his daddy Tyrone to help him come get his shit.
Children are sponges My daughter is a mini me. She may look like her daddy but she acts JUST LIKE ME! One day, she told me she wants brown and pink lips just like mine when she grows up. Who on earth wants their daughter to grow up to be a baby mama? Apparently 72% of Black families. Our children want to be like us when they grow up, because like it or not, they idolize us, even when we are being total fuck ups. Because my ex-husband and I separated very shortly after my daughter’s birth, I have made it my mission to teach her that my situation is not ideal. I don’t want her to be a single mother and although I can’t show her a successful marriage, I have taught her (yes,at four) that first comes love, THEN comes marriage, THEN comes Cinda AND Mr. Cinda with the baby carriage. I’ve never met a person who says “I want my four kids to have five baby daddies/mamas when they grow up” but when that’s what we show them, that’s what they will do.
Family is FUN! I informed my friend that I would be hanging out with another male friend and his daughter and my boy’s poor little feelings were hurt (I could care less but the story emphasizes my point). Although we are in no way, shape or form a couple of any sorts, our “family” time is fun. We vacation with our kids together, take them to the circus, amusement parks, parties, and have playdates once a week. Disney World would have been HELL of either of us had to take our daughters without the other. He told me we couldn’t be co-parents anymore (he’s full of shit) but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense – the co-parenting part, not him having a fit about me having other friends besides him. He and I spend a great deal of time together with our daughters and that time is mostly fun (except when they get on our nerves – see #1). We help each other out and we adore each other’s kids. (Before anyone gets any bright ideas, ain’t no lovin’ happening so leave it alone). The “Family Time” we have is what should have been happening in my own marriage and I hate that I’m not having it with a husband and our children.
If I still had a husband, I probably could have written this a lot faster and on time, and yet, I don’t think I’d care as much about the subject had my husband and I stayed married. I’m doing a good job as Cinda’s Mommy but I could never do the job of Cinda’s Daddy and parenthood is a two person career, kinda like how both keys need to be turned to launch a nuclear missile. Being a parent isn’t easy, and setting oneself up to do it alone is a mistake. A HUGE mistake. You may believe everything is okay, but ask your kid how they feel about having to go to daddy’s house on the weekends or even worse, not knowing their daddy. Not a single one will say Yay!!!! It’s GRRREAT!!!! They may enjoy seeing their daddy, but they would probably enjoy seeing them everyday a whole lot more. I’ve asked. I’m right.