I was reading an article on XO Jane where a woman explores all of the feelings she had while dating a single dad..feelings which led to her ending the relationship, and realizing that she was not cut out for stepmother status just yet. Amongst them were profound feelings of hurt and jealousy, knowing that she would always come second to someone else in his heart. Not that there’s something inherently wrong with putting your child as the number one priority over anything and everyone else in the world: in fact, in her own words, she said:
I hate to admit that I was jealous of a three year old. Even writing it now I feel ashamed. After all, he’s three and I’m old enough to know better. Sadly, Dan was in a no-win on this one because if his attention had NOT been on his baby when we were together, I would have considered him a negligent parent not worth seeing and walked on the spot.” Continue reading
Dear: White Mothers With Half Black Children,
I have a beef with some of y’all, and I think it’s high time that I actually address this on my blog. Now, I would like to preface this post by saying I am well aware of the fact that this applies to some black mothers as well, and that it does not apply to ALL white mother’s with half-black children. In fact, although I may have been able to say it a couple decades ago, now I wouldn’t even say that this could apply to the MAJORITY. With the advent of the internet and youtube, and I’m guessing people becoming more educated either before or after giving birth to their biracial children, I actually don’t see some of these things half as often as I used to. Which makes the white mom’s who are still lost and confused stand out like a sore thumb. No more is ignorance an excuse. It’s time to wise up and recognize this basic fact:
Your Kid Running Around With Her Hair A Mess Cuz You Refuse to Learn How to Do it is Sad And Despicable Continue reading
My beautiful mother. Happy Birthday mom!
Is there any way we can ever appreciate our Mother’s enough? We’ve taken our Mother’s love for granted how many times, as though she somehow owes it to us and therefore we have no logical reason to be grateful. Living in that “that could never happen to me” bubble that North American children so often live in until it happens to them, we write off instances of abuse, neglect, and abandonment as somehow ‘other’ to our own possible existence. Never realizing that it’s specifically our luck, our divine shower of blessing that has graced us with a Mother’s love who was so limitless, so unconditional, that we couldn’t even fathom the possibility of it somehow not being there. As to death and dying…we never really consider it, do we? That’s not a ‘now’ thing, that’s an eventuality, sometime so far in our distance futures that there’s absolutely no need to appreciate that unique and precious Mother-love that we are receiving- we’ve got time for appreciation later.
I can’t say that my relationship with my Mother has been a perfect, blissful one. Having a teen Mom means you get certain advantages, and disadvantages, over and under those who had parents that were planted firmly somewhere in Continue reading
Occassionally on Mondays it’s nice to hear about a nice, cute, inspirational thing that happened. I spoke with a friend of mine on MSN today after not having spoke with him in quite a while. In fact, the last time I had a conversation with him he told me that his wife was pregnant with their second child. So, of course, the first questions I had were “Sooo…your wife had the baby, right? Was it a boy or a girl? When was it born? What did you name it?” and eagerly hit ‘send’. The little ‘replying’ bubble popped up in the corner and I reread my response quickly to make sure that in my excitement I hadn’t accidentally sent off some gibberish which he was currently reading while staring at the screen quizzically, trying to decide whether to make a guess at what my message was or to just respond with a ‘what?’ so that way I would repeat what I said, hopefully more carefully and therefore clearly Continue reading
Ever been so mad you see red (literally)? Ever been so frustrated or angry that you feel that you’re about to explode, implode, or seriously cause some damage to anything or anyone within arms reach? Unless you’re one of those uber-calm people that I can’t stand (cause you make me look bad lol) you probably have, at least once. So you know what it is when you get to that point where your blood is boiling and you’re beyond helpless to control it: it’s damn near impossible to make your thoughts, words, feelings and actions all seem to be a fluent, coherent, respectful and personality-consistent entity rather than the ugly, evil-eyed, fire-breathing monster they become.
Curse words fly from your mouth without even a second thought as to who’s around you or what type of environment you’re in. Suddenly, morals and codes of ethics you have ardently upheld and preached are Continue reading
I would like to think that I’m the kinda gal that doesn’t buy into superficial consumerist holidays. So does my mother. And, since I’m most certainly my mother’s child (some of the time! lol) I’m pretty certain that it’s her general attitude towards holidays and the fact that celebrating them on that day is entirely irrelevant, that it would mean JUST as much to celebrate the week before or after society decides to officially launch said holiday, is the basis for my thought processes. But, here’e the thing. I don’t need the whole kit-and-kaboodle on Valentine’s Day, let’s say, because quite frankly at least 50% of people in society (or at least the one’s that I see in society) are single and therefore NOT going to be involved in the V-Day festivities. So, even if all I get is a little cuddle or a phone call that says “Happy Valentines Day! I love you baby!” from my man, at least I HAVE a man and GOT a call Continue reading
I don’t think my mother thinks that I love her.
I do, of course. I love her more than I could ever possibly even describe in words. My heart at times aches with the grandeur that is my love for my mother. In fact, one of my recent midterm essays was on how much I love my mother and respect her and admire her and hope I’m just like her when I grow up.
And I think that’s exactly the problem. Growing up. I’m not the vapid little teenager who is acting like she is full grown before her time, thinking my mother is CLEARLY from the olden times and doesn’t know a damn thing about anything. I’m not the child who needs my mothers love, protection, and attention at all times. I’m not the 19 year old who has just figured out that my mother ISN’T as insane as I once accused Continue reading