Here I am* doing that same ole two step *

So, I was walking to work this morning thinking about how I’m going to explain to Shawty about the many, many mistakes I have made. And just as I looked at my mother when I was a mere teenager discounting everything she said, I know I will get that same absent stare and look of oblivious when I try to school him on the going-ons of Earth. Oh well. I’m going to tell Shawty, listen… you are going to do some stupid things… that much I can almost guarantee,….but please don’t be foolish and don’t be anyone’s fool. Make mistakes and shi because that is where core lessons are learnt but please refrain from being anyone’s fool. I think about the times where in relationships I would tend to lose my damn mind. Pining over no good niccas like they were worth each and every tear shed. Fuck that! I think about some of the more recent ones (all of those prior to me turning 21 doesn’t count…. I was suppose to be empty-headed) and I chuckle. Like one of them, (why did I even stay that long will forever be beyond me) crazy possessive ‘manipulative bastard’…. I think he would have tried to kill me. Another, stalker loon…’crazy as a fox’. Homeboy showed up at my door and waited for me for two hours….UNINVITED. Now… I should have known better with the following… one of them ‘issues having’ male Taurus. Have more issues that one can ever imagine. Didn’t have a job and damn it if he wasn’t near in a rush to get one either. And, ‘a whore on a hunt’… supposedly looking for love… he’s gonna mess around and find his penis missing. I’m surprised that crap hasn’t fell off already. Maybe it has and that is why homeboy can’t keep a girl. Lmao. And the ‘Jewish boy’, another issue having Taurus… and on top of that, homeboy had a strange body odor that just crept up and held your breathing process hostage. Now, ‘halitosis man’…good gawd…. Now that is an odor I will never forget. Nice as all get out but homeboy and his breath, lawd…. I never experience funktafied to that degree inmelife! Don’t get it twisted; I can admit some wrong shi I have done. With ‘manipulative bastard’ and ‘a whore on a hunt’ I did some dirt but damn if they and their actions didn’t warrant it. And if given the opportunity to do it all over again, these are the same two mfs I wouldn’t have glanced at once never mind twice. Lol. Like André 3000 said, ‘I’m just being honest’. Now there are two that I have met subsequent to my 21st birthday who are far removed from me saying anything but good things. If I cannot say anything nice or pleasant, it would be said about them for noted reasons. ‘My first love’ and ‘baddy’. My first love (and I know Sheron is tired of hearing about him) was the bomb.,.. period, end of story. Love him still, more than my momma’s cook food…. Even now being pregnant and all. I don’t know if I would or could love that hard, that deep, that strong, romantically, ever again. If I don’t, it would be a shame but I will still be at peace because I was able to experience a love I had no idea existed. Baddy is the father of Shawty. There is no one that can match the amount of love of have for him for giving me Shawty. I will always care deeply for him and he will always be a priority in my life because of Shawty…. There is no one person that will ever change that. Not even if I get married to someone else. Prior to me and dude tying the knot, this is something that has to be understood. If it cannot be understood, then we cannot be together. Shawty’s well being trumps all that of other’s.

the champ is here!

Okay, read this article. Omg this mf actually takes care of his child. What has the world come to when a person *gasp* behaves in a responsible manner?!! This article is enough to make you wanna slap everybody in arms distance…. A long read, it is, but it is worth it. The author is really tugging for the reader to actually believe that this guy here deserves a big pat on his shoulder,…. a real hoorah. I can not, with all the greatness in me, and that of black people accept this bare minimal. I can’t allow anyone to think that good enough is our finishing line with the belief that the status quo is what we strive for.

I don’t get it… I really don’t. I don’t know if I’m supposing to or not or if it is even possible. There isn’t a discussion or even room for one when it comes to my responsibility to raise Shawty. There is one certainty; I will raise Shawty,….come hell or high water. There is no doubt, there is no reservation… Shawty will be raised by me, if me alone. I will do my best, with God standing firmly by my side and my love of Baby (which, if you haven’t gathered already, is unbending, dogmatic and resounding) as my foundation.

My lovely father, yes, the one and only, claims he wants to be in the delivery room when I give birth… simple answer: hell no! I don’t want anybody in there except for me and the doctor and maybe a nurse or two. What the fuck you wanna be there for? As I recalled, you didn’t even want a daughter when I was born, mf. Leave me alone! He really wants me to spaz the hell out.

Anyway, I’m miserable. I’m so uncomfortable and tired and worn and moody. I’m ready to deliver and I still have three months to go. How bad can it really get?
Babydaddy is all up in my grill. I’m trying to be tolerant but for some reason that is being misconstrued as ‘come hither’… I’m like, no. No thanks, that is quite alright. Peace I’m good…. lol!! I just want him to be an attentive father, patient and available. That is all… nothing more. This wasn’t planned; we didn’t have an agenda in set, roll, play mode. We were just in the moment and God said, here… since you two wanna act like you are married, let me bless you, pretend husband and wife, with a child. And I said, gladly and babydaddy said oh, shi! baddy (babydaddy) is still saying oh shi! while I have accepted that fate handed to me like a champ (the champ is here!) my going to the club, drinking and hanging out, chilling in smoked-filled bars ended when the doctor confirmed my pending motherhood. There wasn’t a grace period for me to chill and think about it and get that oochie wally out of my system, or for me to wean myself off of the vodka. I said; God, this is a blessing… I know it as nothing, absolutely nothing else and I promise you as you have allowed this baby come to me, I would perform my maternal duties as best as I possibly can. And even though I crave for coffee like a caffeine fien and I would love to 'get lo'' at the club and my goodness, how I would love to spend my savings on a seven-day vaca in the Caymans, that shit isn’t an option. I really think baddy is trying to get it together, I really believe so. And how sad that it is too late. Right now, all he can be to me is present and for his child, visible. I think he just wants to be there and pretend to be a family. I don’t fake shit… I’m straightforward. And I damn sure have no desire to present falsehoods before my child. The only way I can provide for him in a nurturing, emotionally-healthy state is for me to be at the very least, to be the same, emotionally healthy.

I was taking notice of the younger generations just to tweak my mommy-ism. Teenagers. What the hell has taken over them? Now, I live in New Jersey but I stay with my mom a few days out of the week in the Bronx because if I need anything, she is there, you know… JIC. I don’t know if it is the demographic (I do know, just humor me) or what the hell seems to be the problem, issue, matter but these knuckleheads have lost their minds. Just a lack of respect for others… these kids do no care about anyone but themselves and I might even question that. They virtually have sex on the middle of the sidewalk. Leave plates and coffee mugs in the vestibule of my mom’s building and apparently they are gang members because they have their gang -colored do-rags tied to the trees outside. They are outside, holding down the sidewalk from 8am to 2am. They do no attend school, in fact, I heard one of them saying that he is ‘tired’ and that is why he prefers to waste his life away chilling like a dummy on a bucket instead of education. Now, I do not know where the parents are… I know half of them do not live around there so I’m guessing there isn’t a stable home for them to even call on. But I do believe someone is feeding them, clothing them and housing them. I fail to understand how a 15 – 16 year-old can just stroll up in their momma’s, grandmomma’s, whomever’s home all times of night, without a job or a hobby or a volunteer cause to report about and expect to be clothe fed and housed. Like, how does this system works? Now, I can’t say what I will or will not being doing 15-16 yrs from now, but as I stand here before you today, I can say there is no way a 15,16,17,18 whatever age you are, living in my house, eating my food, breathing my air, using up my electricity that you are going to stroll up in my house whatever time you feel like it is appropriate. My household doesn’t get down like that. And if you do not appreciate and abide by my rules, you can pack up whatever trinkets you have bought with your own money and leave. This isn’t hotel 6. But, you see, I won’t have that problem…. My child is going to be as problem-free as me :). I gave my mom nothing to worry about. All of that said above will be used as a scare tactic. My child will have no reason to fear me, but he will fear my wrath. *Wink*

Also, a nothing thing I have noticed…. Parents dressing their kids up as little men and women. My bff informed me last night that J.Lo has little pants for nine, ten year olds with the thong strings sewn into then so that they peak out just from above the waste line. She also has little halter-tops for toddlers. I’m like what? What sex appeal does a child under 14 needs to display? Ain’t shit cute about that. In fact, it is pretty scary. I am asking God for three things to prepare me for parenthood: patience, understanding and a whole heap of love because as talib kweli says ‘They need somethin to rely on, we get high on all types of drug, when, all you really need is love.' godspeed

**********************
*Praying for Sheron and her family*

i have one of those days where you are sat down by reality and how real and tangible everything around has became. i have been having that kind of week.... where i can see and touch and feel and taste every second of my day. i have been having such horrible chest pains and i haven't gotten upset and blame baby at all. just deal. and it was the second in which i shrugged it off that i realized that all along, this baby isn't here for my purpose, this is my baby this isn't my child, but one of Gods sent through me to nature and mold into one of his fearing creature. i have only been the mean to the ends. i can bitch and complain all up and down this day but this is God's plan so i might as well yell my complaints to ocean because there is where it has stayed.


i have begin trying to stay positive about baby daddy. just not talking badly about him to anyone just maintaining a happy disposition for my health and the health of the baby. i also don't want to be one of those moms that has nothing but bad things to say about baby daddy. i want his action to prove it either way. my child, undoubtedly with a mom like me, will be intelligent and observant to know what is right wrong or otherwise. i trust he will make his sole sound judgment and keep it moving. i was carrying some groceries home today... two heavy bags but not heavy enough where i hear pops and clicks in my neck and shi, but heavy enough to know i shouldn't be carrying these heavy ass bags. i think this is only the beginning, the physical, of said burden within the blessing, I have yet to experience in its entirety. and in even knowing that i shouldn't have been the one carrying those bags... that baby daddy, sister to baby momma or anyone else could/should have been there to help carry those bags, that isn't/ hasn't been the case. im going to be the one carrying the emotional burden, the mental burden, the spiritual burden of my seed. and to say the lease, i'm honored. i love my child.... there is nothing i can imagine i wouldn't do for it. i wish every parent felt that way... the immense amount of love and self sacrifice that you can muster up and place that on the value of whatever you do for your child. thinking about it, i wonder if that is how my mom felt... like she was willing to dodge bullets to protect her girls. i can't even think about that right now,... i'm already an mess. my kid is going to think i'm a emotional wreck. but that is okay... that are many moons to mother i'm sure he will find out.

i have been one mean bitch. lol. and i don't care. i'm like look, shit, i'm tired. i can't clip my toenails, what else you want me to be? joyful? anyway, at the pizza place you know, eating a pizza and this guy comes up to me asking me for some change. no, mother...excuse my language... 1) do not invade my space especially while i'm eating... you might just end up dying, bleeding to death from the cut my toes done shanked you with 2) i'm pregnant....no further explanation needed 3) your gear is fresher and flyer than mine, hawk some of that shi... like that jansport bookbag you have on your back, nicca. he can't be that hungry.... you sur'll is shaking that cup with much vigor.

imma title this,...the kicks in my belly

My weekend was one of those in which you wish you could forget but there is always someone who wants to remind of it. My sister and I got into it. I wanted to knock her the f out. yeah, all six months pregnant of me wanted to get up and punch her square in her face… it was just one of those nights were I wasn’t in the mood to be messed with. Now, when I’m going through these periods, these little slight mood swings, I usually warn ppl, don’t fuck with me. I’m tired, my dog just died… leave me alone. So, she’s getting her drink on, feeling froggy and wanted to start something… mind you, we are at my mom’s place and I’m very respectful of my mom and her place… in other words, I don’t cuss in my mom’s presence nor do I cuss in her house when I think she is in ear shot. But Friday night, the devil was tempting me. I was saying shit and fuck and apologizing right along with it. My mom tried her best to squelch things but we still were going at it. Funny how I still want to punch my sister in the face today but I love her and like her no less. I must excuse my sister for her misstep, because obviously, she didn’t know whom it was she was fing with.

Baby is chilaxing. Kicking me in the bladder, but hey, what is new. Im tired of being tired, of running to the bathroom every hour on the hour, of having the rest after a few steps taking, of having to sleep on my side because sleeping on my back makes me feeling like I’m about to drown or even sleeping on my sides makes my damn legs go numb, my belly itching so badly I feel like taking a hard bristle brush and go to town on it. I want my body back, damnit!! I would do it thrice over for shawty, though. Big up to all women. I now understand why God gave us the ability to bare children….

imma tell you this much... if you are becoming a mom, be prepared to turn into a b.b. (bonafide bitch). everyone has questions about my decisions on having a child, one, two, out of wedlock and three in new york city. now, this might be a surprise to us progressive folks, but there still lie a few dumbasses who deem it their business in finding out the method to my madness. when i first found out i was expecting, all types of emotions went through me in a fing nanosecond and the only feel left within me was anticipation followed by joy. needless to say, i didn't know what the hell i was getting into. i still don't know. but i laid down, did the do, fully aware of the possibilities, and now behaving in a responsible manner. i.e., i don't believe in abortions. had i, this blog wouldn't exist.

not to be preachy, but this is my blog so...

"..... one in three African American pregnancies end in abortion, that over 1,200 black children die every day, and an estimated 70 percent of abortion providers are in minority neighborhoods." said Star Parker, a member of Care Net's board of directors. "Abortion in the black community has become a form of genocide." - sleep on that.


as i was saying, motherhood turns the average woman into stupen-dor bitch... you don't give a flying f about anything anyone has to say. you don't feel a need to answer any ones questions with words, just actions if it is called upon. you honestly feel like it is you and your shawty against the world and act as if so. in the words of my dear friend Mary 'you gangsta, andrea' why, thank you, Mary. ... *inhale* baby daddy and i parted ways. and i don't give a fuk either, though, i sincerely wish i did. i'm like good... i feel so relieved... not about to put up with any ones shit... trust. and am even less readied to put up with whatever shit you are about to give my child. my coworker told me today that the reason why i don't have a man is because i won't let a man be a man. i said, sure i do.... you can clutch your peanuts and watch football all you want, but i would be one desperate ass b. if i let some man come up in my space and even think about pissing on me... ain't gonna happen. i will cut him clear across the face, father or no father before i let that happened. i will not let my child think that me settling for 'good enough' is even an option. not when i know there is better. even if i'm never with another man for the rest of my life, i can feel comfortable knowing i didn't settle for mediocrity... and i can champion that for my child, if him alone. i can show him better than i can tell him. he would know that his mom wasn't settling for no grade d meat.... subpar treament and lackluster handling. i will not lead it to believe that we do not need love or affection or commitment, but all of these things are well and good in healthy doses. that you cant love no body how ever much you want to love them, but love them only how much they let you. if it is none, then you get your ass to stepping. it really isn't that hard. trust me,... i'm still learning. i'm not looking forward to these discussion... where i'm telling my daughter... 'i could have told you that ni**a was no good' or my son 'she ain't nothing but a scally wag, anyway'. *exhale* i do sound bitter. i'm just so infuriated that he, not me, allowed this to happen. we both grow up without a father and as he tell it, he wanted to stop the cycle. i too, wanted and still want that. but at what cost? i know and feel and live the affects of absentee dad every day of my life... still years later. i wanted more for my child, if just that much more. i can taste the words of 'kiss my ass' on the tip of my lips every time i talk to the sperm donor....every time i speak with him. wanting to ask him... 'what the fuck you want, nigga? stop calling me!... you didn't have a need or want or desire to be all up in my grill ten, fifteen years ago, so what is your need now? leave me alone!' i don't want the animosity or hate or disdain to be felt ... it isn't a good feeling to want to spit in person's face who gave you life. but big up to my momma for saying ain't no way in this hell or that one daddy-o was going to shi on her. holla mama! if i'm taught anything by today's events is life is one big joke that nobody is laughing at.

okay... the rant is over and it is four days since i wrote the above. whew... that took a lot out out of me. i'm less angry today and baby daddy has really been trying to play it cool... if only he knew what i knew....he had the nerve to tell me he is having a hard time coming to terms with change. i'm like your medieval ass... we all do. does he think i'm ready to be a parent... hell nah! probably will never be ready to be one. but i would be damned if my child ever thinks anything less of my abilities. my mom says i am picking fights only because i'm pregnant. i said momma, you and i both know i would pop somebody in the mouth pregnant or not. i got that shi from you.... she just laughed because she knows it is true. the apple and the tree. alright, baby and i are about to bounce. we have to go eat...well i have to go eat... i'm 25wks this coming wednesday. baby is moving like a rolling stone... everyday, my love for shawty grows more intense and i cry happy tears whenever i sing to it or read to it or just rub my belly while it tears in my insides up with the throwing of 'bows... i haven't cried happy tears in ten years plus. I was watching joel osteen last night, you know, the lakeview, tx minster, and he was talking about how when you are done wrong by the haters, God blesses and restores you ten times over... that is why/what Shawty is, a blessing ten times over. now haters, including you, you lame touche, top that. love you, MsThing!!!

haven't forgot about you either, Joy, Shun and Ranada!!! I will be by soon!! take care and muuaahh!