Well that was quick...

Hm... hasn't even been a week yet and already I've made an error in judgement in regards to the new changes I want to make in my life.

It's hard though to make a change when you don't really want to, but you know you need to. Not just to be a better person or a happier person, but to be respectful to yourself.

Hence my thing, my penchant if you will, for fooling around with men that aren't "mine". For the past, oh I don't know, six years or so I've been "dating" and falling for men that already have wives or girlfriends. And you know the spiel, it suited me fine then because I didn't want a relationship; I wanted the perks of relationships without the drama and arguing and possession that I think comes with relationships. This worked well for me. I rarely caught feelings, in fact it was often the other way around, and I felt comfortable enough to ask about their wives and not a bit of jealousy would spark.

And then I met Him. And all that bad karma came and bit me in the ass. Because I did fall for Him. I did/do love Him. But He has another. And I hate it. And I've actually written about him before in this blog. I hate to hear her name. I hate to hear of their sex life. I don't know her but I loathe her intensely. Because she exists. Because she's everything I despise in a woman... and that isn't even related to the fact that she has Him. It's purely because her actions are so blatantly that of a desperate woman that is creeping up in age and would give her left kidney to snag a husband. And she gets rejected... a lot. But anyway...

Bottom line is that if I indeed want to make changes in my life, this is one area in particular I need to address. As much as I'd like to breeze over it, I can't. Because quite frankly, I disgust myself. And if I keep it up I'll be as desperate as Her and that shit just ain't happening. I'd rather be single and happy any day than to be with someone that's made it abundantly clear he has no intention of ever taking that final precipitous plunge into that cess pool called marriage.

I'm tired of getting my feelings hurt. I'm tired of being second. I'm tired of only attracting men that already have a woman or two at home.

I deserve better. (Or do I?) I'm not saying I'm right for anything I've done in the past. One thing I am not is a home wrecker. I've never ruined marriages or relationships and yes, I realize that that doesn't make what I've done okay.

But I have to start somewhere. I have to construct a path towards healing right? I'm a good woman, a damned good woman to any man I've ever had, be he single or not.

My heart aches down to the depths of my soul because I love a man and I cannot have him. And to be quite honest, if He dispensed with Her tomorrow, I wouldn't even want Him. Because if He truly wanted me, He'd be with me right?

But He's with Her. So that tells me everything I need to know right there doesn't it?

A Letter to My Children's Father...

I ought to simply call you my babies' daddy since that's about all you amount to. A sire for my offspring; a sperm for my egg; a donor.

Alright that was mean. But true.

I intended this to be a note of thanks...

Thank you for creating three wonderful, beautiful children with me. Thank you for crying with me when one of them fell lifelessly from my womb into my palm.

Thank you for showing me alternately how weak of a woman I was when I was with you... and how much stronger of a woman I am without you (or any man for that matter).

Thank you for allowing me to see just how hard it is to be a single parent in this world and how difficult it is not to warp my daughters' minds into man-hating machines. I honestly would love them just the same, if not more if they decide later in life to be lesbians.

Thank you for showing me that bitterness can eat at the soul worse than a canker on flesh. Thank you God for helping me to let the bitterness and hatred go. It's a steady work in progress.

Thank you for allowing me to bear the brunt of raising our girls, teaching them to walk, talk, manners and so much more only to have you take the credit when introducing them to your peers and coworkers. Funny, for all the work I thought I did, I hear an awful lot of WE and I when you respond to compliments the girls receive.

Thank you so much for paying child support bi-weekly and on time. It helps so much to know that its coming. Nevermind the fact that I had to take you to court to get it and keep you in constant fear of returning to the courtroom to have it raised just to get you to contribute to your own offspring.

SO beside the point, I know... to continue:

Thank you so much for the continuous flow of criticisms and insults and jealous outbursts. And really, what is the deal with the jealousy anyway? We aren't together, we haven't been a bonafide couple since November 2000 when you kicked my seven months pregnant ass out of our house. Today there was jealousy because I was talking to my neighbor. T-A-L-K-I-N-G... seems I have a headlight out on my car and I was thanking him for being so kind as to tell me so I can get it fixed.

And how about those criticisms and insults? Thank you so much for showing me what I was like to so many friends before I had children of my own. Boy, I thought I knew so much about raising a child that I freely dispensed advice whether I was asked or not. Then I had Jaalyn and discovered I didn't know squat. But thanks anyway for your (un)timely advice.

Thanks for sitting with me night after night when our babies are sick and feverish and praying to God to please, just end their coughing/vomiting/fever/whatever and let them be healthy. Thanks so much for forgoing sleep to hold your wheezing coughing child upright in your arms so that she can sleep and not choke to death on the thick mucus collecting in the back of her throat from pollen/allergies/virus/strep throat. Thank you for helping me keep track of the seemingly thousand types of medicines the girls need to take and when so that I don't get confused and miss a dose or worse, double a dose by accident.

Thanks for taking them to the doctor each and every time they fall ill, sometimes more than once in a day. Thank you for providing funds for expensive prescriptions, tylenol, motrin, pedialyte, saltine crackers, diaper rash creams, etcetera that they always need following the doctor's visit.

Thank you for finding time in your already jam packed schedule for an impromptu game of peekaboo, trips to the park, zoo, library... time to put together puzzles, practice reading a book aloud and homework too. Thanks for helping each week finding things to correspond with Jaalyn's show and tell assignment and making sure she takes it on the appropriate day.

Thanks for packing lunches, paying tuitions, working 50+ hour weeks and still managing to wash a few loads of clothes, clean the house, cook some meals, take out the garbage, iron school uniforms, participate in school fundraisers and on and on and on when all you really want to do is crawl into a corner somewhere and nap for the next 15 years or so.

Thank you for so graciously coming over to give me a break from the children, especially when you know how badly I need one and how every person needs just a smidgen of time for themselves.

Thanks for enduring insulting jabs from my mother and myself on what a rotten parent you must be ( despite the children being healthy and clean and intelligent. All of that must be inherited from her father/grandparents/etc.). On how the house is never clean enough, the clothing is never nice enough/too nice, they aren't fed enough or some inane reason for giving you hell.


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Wait.

You don't do any of those things.

I do.

Every day. All day.

24/7, 365, never ending, never ceasing.


You sit and live your life separately without a worry in the world. You've absolutely no idea what I do and what goes on on a regular basis, yet you complain I don't have time for you or anyone else because I am so wrapped up in my children. I never thought being involved in your children's lives would be a bad thing. Being too involved is one thing, but I'm just struggling to maintain and keep from sinking in the mire and muck you and my mother keep trying to drag me into.

Getting back to you... all you care about is yourself. I don't doubt for a second that you love the girls. But I'm sick of the attitudes. SO. SICK. OF. THEM. There is a reason we're not together and why no matter how hard we tried we would never be able to make a relationship work.

We do not operate as a team. You do not help me at all... no wait, that's not entirely correct... you do the bare minimum when it comes to helping with the girls. And your piss poor excuse is that you don't know what to do.

Come the fuck on.

You can barely get in the door without knocking something over or stepping on something. Instead of planting your fanny into the recliner and remaining perched there all damned afternoon, could you get Jaalyn to clean the room? Could you take out a bag of trash? Throw some clothes into the washer or dryer? Or maybe just ask "Is there anything I could help you with?"

But no, you sit and complain or you sit in silence.

Today, after the admission of jealousy (and dude, I am clearly missing something here because I am just not getting that whole thing) and the resulting heated discussion you sat in silence, refusing to answer my questions and clearly dictating that you were putting an end to the conversation. And it infuriated me.

And then I thought... you are not even worth getting angry over. For what? We're not together. We'll never be together. And I'm absolutely thrilled to be making drastic changes in my life.

Only you don't know it. Yet...

But you will soon. Very soon.

So... thanks. For the memories, for our children, for the blood, sweat and tears resulting from our disasterous 10 years of knowing one another. We've shared good times and bad... well we've shared more bad than good really but still... we shared. Who knows what the future holds? Maybe we'll share again. Doubtful. But I've learned not to tempt God who despite His Absolute Divinity has a wicked sense of humor.

And I'm not sweating all the "wrongs" you've done to me or the whole "my baby daddy ain't worth shit" thing either. Because karma is a bitch baby. Everything you do comes back. And I pray God has mercy on you when it happens.

So I'll keep on doing what I do. I'll raise our daughters and hope that they learn from the mistakes their parents made. I hope they have better goals than we; I hope they have higher hopes than we.

And I hope they have better taste in men than me.

And From Change Comes...

What? Huh? What day is it?

I've had so much to write... so much that's been on my mind and heart. So much that I've wanted to share. No time or either I'll have time, the conditions are right (i.e. quiet) and I just won't feel like it. As much as I'd like to try, I think I'll make a terrible freelance writer. I hate writing on demand. But, whatev.

Trinity has been very sick the past several weeks. Yes, I said weeks as in a 11+ day virus/flu thing that started out with her losing her voice and gasping for breath and ended with horrid mucusy vomiting and diarrhea. Never have I seen someone so small suffer so much. But, it's finally passed and now we're on to the next level of extreme discomfort; her first two teeth are trying to push their way through her now toughened gums. I'm telling you, it's nothing but fun up in this here household.

Throughout the turmoil in the house, I've been trying to deal with my own inner turmoil and formulate a plan to facilitate the changes I want to make in my life. And as simple as this process ought to be I'm overcomplicating things by overthinking things. Honestly, just once I wish I could be one of those people that oversimplify instead of overanalyze. But, that's just how I am and I'm doing my best to work out a plan of action that's neither difficult nor intense. Just a steady sweeping motion of change, preferably short and sweet.

I need not just happiness, but some balance in my life. The way I see it I have three areas to revitalize and restore: the home, the heart and the spirit. I haven't exactly figured out the first area to work on since they are so all closely entertwined. But I do have several things that I need to go about changing pronto so as to achieve some a semblance of sanity and peace.

And the very first change to be made is the not-relationship with my kids father. Oh that man... and I hesitate to even call him a man. He is the one that makes every other man on the planet look like absolute garbage in my eyes. We had a major falling out last week where he detailed the issues he had with me as an excuse to behaving like an utter and complete ass for the past two months. When I heard his complaints I was speechless... because they were so completely banal and if there is a description far beyond "petty" this would be it. As a matter of fact, I'll let my readers be the judge. If I am wrong, tell me. One of his major crux with me had to do with Christmas. I did not get him a bonafide gift as I had said I would. This was a serious injustice to him because he bought gifts for me. Thus he's had a 'tude since the morning of December 25th.

Mmkay... Now, that was his complaint. Let's hear my defense. Why did he not receive a gift from me you may ask? Because:

1. Several months prior we'd agreed NOT to exchange gifts. The holiday is for the kids, not us.
2. Because I'd spent every dime I had on bills and getting the children's gifts. I didn't even get my parents anything substantial. First time EVER.
3. Not only did I pay for 95% of the children's gifts, I also bought all the stocking stuffers. Jaalyn and I hung stockings for every member of our immediate family, including baby daddy, my folks and the damned cat. Santa delivered so many stocking stuffers that the stockings actually fell from the nails that were holding them. And Santa also took a lot of time finding nice, substantial gifts for each individual that went far beyond the usual dollar tree garbage most people stuff stockings with.
4. Not that it matters now, but can I be real for a moment? Rarely have I gotten anything nice from baby daddy as a gift. One Christmas after spending hundreds of dollars on his gifts I received a chipped and worn wooden serving tray complete with the $2 price tag stuck on the back from the local flea market. I was not angry, in fact I was amused and I actually still have it and use it to serve Jaalyn cereal in bed some mornings. Here recently I've gotten gifts from him, nice gifts that I neither needed or wanted, but the thought was there and much appreciated. Last year Jaalyn said daddy needs a new bed mommy. His covers aren't nice like mine are mommy. So I let her choose something from a catalog and ordered it. We gave him a complete bed set for Father's day and the matching bath set on his birthday. Probably totalled over $300 but it didn't matter. I got a sandwich maker for Mother's Day. It cost $7.99 and was a replacement for the one he tossed a few years back when he was pissed at me for something or other.

I'm not saying he should spend massive amounts of money on me when he purchases gifts. I actually don't like expensive gifts. I love homemade gifts and inexpensive gifts with thought behind them and items that I actually need. All I wanted for Christmas were a pair of slippers because I never think to buy them for myself and had holes in my beloved jaguar head slippers. (I did receive a pair from my dad and oddly enough from my boss as well). The gifts I have bought for my kids father have been costly in some cases but I don't complain because he really had a need for the items we gave. I give all year round, just like I do for my kids, to various charities and to various people. One year I maxed out unexpectedly and I catch nastiness and hell for it for months. That is a head shaker to me.

Another gripe of his is that he paid a cable bill for me back in January and I never paid him back. A bill he admitted I neither asked him to pay, nor needed him to pay because I could pay it myself. You know how the bill due date will be on a Wednesday but you don't get paid until Friday? It was one of those things. I did offer to pay him back; he refused. Scratching my head over why this entire episode was a huge issue to him, why he's still hanging onto it and it's now April and why would cause more nastiness towards my person.

Anyway, the resulting blow out caused him to criticize not just my parenting techniques but also my person. Anyone that knows me knows how sensitive I am and how my self esteem is far beyond the region in the toilet; I'm nearing septic levels now. So when he told me what a rotten mother I am, that I'd never ever get a man, that I was a complete waste of time and space... it bothered me. I wouldn't say it hurt me, but it did get under my skin a bit.

I get annoyed anyway when he criticizes my parenting. It's like me criticizing the work of a quantum physicist. I've only a glimmer of knowledge in that area so who am I to criticize? I am not the perfect parent but I am a goddamned good one and eons better than he is to his children. I am all my girls have and I've never been able to count on him for a damned thing. To his comments I say Fuck You.

And I could detail more about his complaints, but why get all riled up about it again? Suffice it to say I am done with the entire thing. I have tired of the criticisms, the nasty attitudes, the insults and arguments. Telling me I was a big waste of time and space was simply the last straw. It's unnecessary... HE'S unnecessary since he does the bare minimum anyway. Time for him to be eliminated from the equation altogether. Not worth the stress, not worth my time, and not deserving of ... well...

I'll just leave it at that. But in my eyes, he's done.

Change Is Inevitable.

Change is inevitable. Who said that? I'm drawing a blank.

I'd meant this particular post to be an explanation of my previous ranting because I received a lot of, um, interest due to my choice of words and phrases. But tonight I'm choosing to focus on the primary point of my little missive...

Change.

It's time for a drastic change in my life. I am not happy. I love my children, but I do not feel I am at my best in the parental arena. I am focusing far too much on the distractions in my life; the unnecessary distractions. This brings on unnecessary stress, which I in turn pass on to my kids.

Not good.

And you know, for the longest time I thought I was the one that was confused. And perhaps I was, but tonight after having a "nice" tete a tete with baby daddy I've never seen clearer in my life.

I need a change. Starting now. And in order for that change to happen I need a plan of action. To formulate the plan of action, I need to establish some goals and figure out precisely what it is that I want out of life, both personal and professional. I need to rid myself of a hella lot of dead weight. I need to focus on my constant motivation (my girls) to increase my determination so that I can achieve my goals and get back to that point where all was well in my little corner of the world. I'd mentioned to my best friend early on in the year that 2007 was the year of change, growth and prosperity for us both. Her time of change has already come to fruition and mine is just beginning.

Oh this Supermom has only begun to realize her powers. The powers were there all along, but years of bitterness and neglect had clouded my vision something fierce.

I'm wiping the sand out of my eyes and for the first time in so fucking long, I'm seeing clear skies and a smooth road paved before me.

All I need to do is walk...

Fuck It...

Yup, just fuck it.

Fuck everything.

Fuck the naysayers and ne'er-do-wells.

Fuck the people that intentionally try to put me down and hurt me.

Fuck the housework, the endless line of bill collectors, and my job.

Fuck Comcast (up the ass with a salt covered barbed wire dildo, not that I'm bitter or anything).

Fuck the power company that screwed my billing and sent me a bill in the amount of nearly $700 for less than 30 days of service.

Fuck the bullshit and the drama that comes weekly, daily, hourly, second-ly with my baby daddy.

Fuck the daycares and schools that try to label me as a poor, ignorant, single nigga mom and dare treat me as such.

Fuck the pediatrician that gives bullshit excuses for what I know to be allergies in my kids. (I must add a note here that the baby was sneezing, snotting and routinely bashing herself in the face and screaming in agony and frustration. Same symptoms Jaalyn had when she was that age and was diagnosed with allergies. The Claritin did nothing for the baby, just as it did nothing for her sister. I was intructed to bring her back to the office but she saw a different doctor who said she couldn't possibly have allergies and must have simply gotten some dust in her eyes. DUST? He told me to get some Visine and she'd be fine. WTF ever man. I took her back the next day and let her see the original doctor that diagnosed allergies and got some new meds [Zyrtec] and guess what? She's been fine ever since.)

Fuck the opinions of others. (see "Fuck Men" listed below...)

A big FUCK YOU to men as a whole. Fuck you men that think that women are put on this earth to suit your needs and desires. Fuck men that are greedy and inconsiderate. This is to include those men that claim they aren't selfish yet desire women other than the one they are with and think that it's okay to do so. (And in an incredibly hypocritical light fuck my dumb ass for accepting some other woman's leftovers.) Fuck the men that don't know how to treat a woman and refuse to open their mind to learn. Fuck them for not realizing that a woman is a jewel to be treasured, a queen to be loved, cherished and respected. Not some chickenhead bitch to be toyed with. Fuck the men that place themselves before their children... and their women.

And yes, I realize that all men are not the same. I realize that all black men aren't the same.

And I don't give a damn. File this under it ain't right but it's okay... because it's just the way it is. For years I've done my damnedest to give men a fair shake. And for years I see and experience the same shit, so until I see a man that can prove me wrong. ALL MEN ARE EXACTLY THE SAME.

It ain't right... but it's okay.

So just fuck it.

It's time for a change. It's time for ME to change.

Single Mom Mindedness

I recently watched an episode of Bringing Home Baby (remember what a TLC/Discovery Channel slut I am) and for once they featured a single (young) mom on the show. Intriguing since they almost never feature a single mom on those baby shows unless it's one of the "bad" labor and delivery shows where shit always goes wrong. On this particular episode the young lady had her baby, brought him home and of course the cameras stayed with her during the first 36 hours home with baby. Not so different from the other shows except that "home" happened to be her room inside her mom's apartment... in the midst of a heavily populated and extremely close knit high rise. So her mom was there, her aunts were there, the neighbors and their children were there... She had this whole loving supportive group, all of whom were eager to get their hands on that adorable bundle and give mom a break. They interviewed her after the first 36 hours and she exclaimed that it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, this single parenthood thing. Then they interviewed her 6 weeks later and aside from being tired from nursing continuously and the occasional cold that the baby had developed, her views had not changed.

Dude, why did the show just enrage me?

I'm glad they did a show on a single parent for once. But show me a real single parent, one without a support group and on her own, with bills to pay and no one to summon when she needs a break. Show me the bare naked truth.

Show me the single mom that does it all alone. The one that cries with the baby in the middle of the night because she just can't figure out what's causing her little one to scream uncontrollably. The one that juggles work and school and sometimes other kids too. Show me the mom that sits up at night with multiple sick children, hovering over each anxiously praying to God please, please just ease their suffering and make them healthy and measures out so many varying medications and breathing treatments and such that she has to resort to using a pad and paper to keep track of who gets what and when. Show me that mom that has laundry to wash and fold, dinner to cook, a home to clean, children to bathe, and a baby to change and nurse. Show me the tiredness, the fear, the pain and the suffering shared by fellow sisters despite our different backgrounds, educations, and social status.


Don't give me a watered down version of single parenthood that you think will satisfy your nuclear family viewers. Give me the truth and give us single mothers credit for what we do and how we manage. There are single moms and dads out here that struggle every day, and there are some that don't but the one thing we all have in common is that our job is made three times more difficult because we lack that second person, either by choice or by circumstance.


Show me the truth.


Show me me.

I'm falling apart at the seams. I really am.

When I was a child, I mean a little thing not more than 2, I had a favorite doll. I adored her. She had a hard plastic face, a whisp of blond hair peeking from underneath her yellow hood that was sewn into her head, and a soft bean bag body. I loved her to no end and carted her everywhere. I think mom used to have to sneak her away when I took naps just to toss her into the washer. Anyway, after so much wear and tear, she got, well, torn. It started as just a little hole at the base of her neck that leaked these tiny little gray pepples and it morphed into a gaping chasm emptying her of her contents (which I scruptuously saved by the way). All that I was left with was an empty headed doll with a rag for a body; just a shell.

That's precisely how I feel now. I feel empty, yet oddly full. Like there's nothing of myself remaining but goddamn I have so much on my plate. I'm just plain overwhelmed. Tiredness is one thing, I mean hell that will NEVER go away so long as I have children. But it's the fullness of it all that's getting to me. I don't have a spare second when I am home for anything. I have to divide my time between the kids, cleaning, cooking and errands. Even playtime is becoming a chore because it takes up a vast amount of time. Everything boils down to time. And oddly enough the most time consuming thing should be work, since I spend the greater part of 40+ hours a week there; but I'm blessed with a job so slack that I often wish I were able to slip out and come home just so I could be catching up with something. And kiddo's spring break is coming up soon and I damn sure don't want to spend the entire week cleaning and unpacking.

But I've got to do something regarding the state of my home. It's bordering ridiculousness. I never thought in a million years my home would affect my person as much as it does. But the clutter, trash, boxes and clothing, and TOYS are all doing me in. I morph into this angry, yelling screaming mom that is frustrated because she can't take two steps without kicking, tripping, stomping, or smashing an item in the way. So it takes twice as long to find things, to cook things, to place things. I'm going out of my mind with the disorder. All I want is a clean home and I can relax. Is that too much to ask?

Apparently so but it's all good because I am seriously thinking of hiring someone to help me and to maintain.

So once I cross that cluttery bridge let's move to another space that needs a good cleaning... my heart AND my mind. Lately, I'm not going to lie, I've been feeling lonely as hell. It's neither hormones, nor jealousy because my friends are all married or involved with someone. It's just about time I suppose for these emotions to surface I suppose. Much as I try to project the Ice Queen image, I too have my weaknesses. For once I'd like sex with a little emotion behind it; for someone to express their every feeling for me without uttering a word; and for God's sake to have a single conversation with a man without the word "pussy" being mentioned. For someone to love me. There I said it. I want to love and be loved in return by someone over the age of 18.

But apparently my stipulations for the "perfect gentleman" are a little too strict. For example, my number one preference would be that he's single but since the only men I attract are, um, spoken for already I'm assuming I may have to lower my expectations.

Fuck that. I've lowered my expectations down to pond scum level and still haven't met a decent available man and I be damned if I lower them further. Since Mr. Right keeps waltzing up to me disguised as Mr. "Right Now" he can keep waltzing on by. I be damned if I keep getting my heart broken by selfish ass jerks that want to come home to the wife, but have marital relations with me. I'm not fool enough to think that I don't deserve better than what I'm getting now. If I have to make the choice between being the fuck of the day and being a sad, lonely soul... Consider me one sad sack bitch.