You might think it’s cruel you might judge it as vicious. One of the main reasons I block shit out or check out emotionally is because it’s too difficult otherwise to sever a limb that’s the root of your problem. My relationship with my parents is strained to say the least. This is especially true with my father. While I was in New York I purposely maintained a distant relationship where he went through what he went through with miles between us. The reason is that I knew if he was closer he would bleed me financially dry. Even from a far we found ourselves sending money to help 400, 500 at time. Sometimes it wasn’t even my money but my significant others. My father came to live with us so that I could help him get back on his feet. This has been more than challenging causing arguments in my relationship because of his lack of efforts in the House. Although I never agree outright with my significant other because doing so would just put a battery in his back, he’s made undeniable claims. Take right now for example. I have clothes on the bathroom floor to take to laundry. I walk in the bathroom and it’s wet. I smell pee but I think I’m crazy right? I step on my shower rug and it’s wet, now I’m like what the hell. I ask my dad if he showered he’s all calm like oh no the toilet overflowed I’m like fuming now because he didn’t tell me. My clothes are then wet with toilet water.
I’m not pissed it happened I’m pissed he didn’t tell me. So now it’s 12:00 a.m. I have to work and I’m up doing laundry. He didn’t clean it up, he didn’t move the rug. Despite his health ailments the mans not handicap. This is the shit that infuriates my s/o. He leaves everything a mess. I understand not feeling well. But seriously, it’s not everyday that it’s a bad day. I’ve had moments where I’ve questioned his mental state. Because sometimes I feel like you have to be nuts. There’s no other explanation. The moral is this is why I emotionally check out because if I was emotionally invested in my parents all these years they would’ve bled me dry financially, emotionally and mentally trying to carry an anchor all my life. It sounds fucked up but that’s what it is. Supporting family can sometimes be like trying to run a 5k with a body tied to your ankle. You just can’t do it. You get nowhere fast. You’ll make it at some point but you ain’t making it today. So for me I choose to ignore shit and not let it bother me. I’m pissed now but I’ll get over it. At some point we need to part ways. You can over help someone even if they need the help. By all accounts I’m reaching my max.
Schools across NYC have been having a daddy take your kid to school day clad with photo op sessions and what have you. “Wear your super hero shirt!” “Take a photo with your child in your super hero shirt.” You’re going to be offended but what the fuck? Are you serious? Do men really need a red carpet and a god damned photo op to take their children to school? Almost everyday out of the year, plenty of mothers walk their kids to school everyday or almost everyday and play even larger roles as the caretaker of their kids. I’m still waiting to see a mommy red carpet hall of fame for dropping your kid off at school. Its your fucking job. You helped make this child. Are we really fucking living in a society where we need to applaud the stand up dads like they just made wee wee for the first fucking time?
I’m sorry, I think its a nice thing, but at the same time, I find it slightly ridiculous. I know plenty of mothers that do it all and they don’t get a parade for stepping up and being parents, let alone a day to take a selfie with your kid for doing what you’re supposed to be doing. This is not to take away the credit from single dad’s, or great father’s that sometimes do more than mother’s. But it is an insult to everyone else that does take care of their children every single day and doesn’t need motivation in a day designated to take your kid to school, something you should either already do when you can or you should already be actively partaking..
Like all things in my life everything is exaggerated. I can’t be normal. Maybe it’s my screws upstairs that are missing or that personality disorder is traits that I often talk about. My daughters birthday is coming up. I’m big on birthdays, or was. I would show up to work in a full on bling not plastic tiara for my birthday. My celebration lasted a month. I felt like life itself was a celebration, another year, another day, another chance to change things.
For my daughters first birthday I celebrated with friends and family in New York and Florida. For her second birthday I did the same. Since my daughter is in camp I opted this year to buy a cake for the girls at camp. A friend of mine who’s motto is “the road to hell is paved with good intentions” comes to mind. I wanted to buy her a cute cake. Not a plain $20 cake. So I went with a unicorn cake. The problem? It’s massive. So much so that on a train during rush hour I would have pancake by the time I got to Harlem.
So I decided to call a lyft. The problem is that my driver is nice but he’s giving me anxiety as I sit in the back. He’s taken routes that I’m like what? So here i sit wondering what exactly the bill will be since I’m still in Brooklyn and this trip said it would take 30 min has now become 42. I’m trying to take things in stride. Life is short. I won’t always be around with my daughter. She drives me nuts and I probably threaten to spank her at least 3 times a day. But these are the things that I do to make sure she has a great time. It’s the details, the memories. Kids don’t need much, this I know. But I want her to always remember that I always tried to make her feel special.
I have a six year old. I’ve raised her thus far to think little girls are not grown women. As she gets older she will earn the right to do more things like paint her nails, go out etc. At 6, she’s not ready to hit the club like it’s her birthday as best sung by good ol 50 cent. One day though she will be, but hopefully by that time I have prepared her as well as I can for life.
Shopping for girls these days is hard. The fashions are outrageous. I once saw a tube top that doubled as a mini skirt. I mean am I dressing a future baby prostitute or a child? It’s sick. I dress my daughter as age appropriate as I can, as fashion forward as I can without trying to turn her into a self obsessed monster. So imagine the difficulty in finding age appropriate shows.
She’s 6 but bores of cartoons. She’s an uber smart (to smart for her own good) kid. So although the screen shows tv shows with a G rating which are hypothetically for the general audience, I’ve found one massive reoccurring theme. Boy crazy girls that are just obsessed with boys. Okay, obviously kids grow up and start to eventually notice the opposite sex. But why are shows aimed at the general consensus of just showing boy thirsty girls? I take issues with that. Is that all we can teach girls? Granted, teaching starts at home but you can’t deny the outside influences are like subliminal Devils. Where else are girls younger and younger developing body image issues from? Instagram? Where everyone takes photos like their waiting to film their next debut with Brad Pitt. Social media. Magazines. Tv shows. This all plays a part.
People like to argue that it’s a parents fault or problem to screen and monitor their children. I agree but to a degree. I can’t raise my daughter in a bubble. There has to be some sort of accountability about what we show kids, what we put forth. How about a show about a girl who’s an A student who invents the cure for some formerly incurable disease or a show about the first girl ground breaking scientist who’s also a teenager like Dougie Howser who was a doctor at like 13? We need more shows about women and girls shattering those glass ceilings than incorporating all the dumb shit that at the end matters so minutely.
Have you watched that show? What would you do? Some of the situations are mind blowing and enraging. Ironically, the other day they showed a situation involving babies. A couple brings a baby to a 10 star restaurant and the question was what would you do if the baby is crying through your dinner. Me personally I’m an asshole. I would side eye through my entire meal. Listen, I’m a mom, but I didn’t take my daughter out until I felt ready she was a silent presence out in public. I can honorably say my daughter never had a meltdown in public. Then again my silent motherly theme song was L.L. Cool J’s Mamma said knock you out. My daughter knew better. Even now, I take her to work no one even knows she’s there. Which brings me to today.
Today, although I’m dying from a cold, I took my daughter to go see boss baby the movie. The thing is, it’s obviously a kids movie. But why did I hear actual screaming babies that were not cast on the movie? Listen, I sacrificed and didn’t expose the world to a constantly screaming child. Even before I had kids I hated the parents who just let their monster scream bloody murder. Kids are unpredictable, I know you can’t just put a cork in them, but you do have to teach them manners. I used to purposely take my daughter down the toy aisle to teach her that not always would she get a toy and we do not act up. She never had a meltdown for a toy.
When I became a parent my mantra was I don’t want to hear this shit, so neither should you have to hear it. Some places are baby free zones. Would you take your newborn into a nightclub? Would you take your infant to the bar? Maybe some body shots for the kid? The answer is no. So if you wouldn’t take your kid out to those places why is it so far fetched to not take your screaming child or infant to a 5 star restaurant where my chicken costs as much as a god damned farm of chickens. I just think it’s prudent. So yes, I’m an asshole but I also was prudent enough to put parenting first above my own need to go see the latest flick. By the way the movie was awesome. Some adult intended suggestive comments but overall hilarious, a tad sad but great.
If I had to write some wisdom to my younger self, I would remind myself to try to enjoy the journey. In a generation where information is at your disposal and beauty or its faux standard in your face, sometimes I feel sorry for the children of today. When I was 12 I was 12. I didn’t know entirely about sex, I wasn’t obsessed with my appearance. In fact, I played with dolls, watched 90210 without fully understanding the implications of the show. I was in essence a kid. I rollerbladed, rode my bike without worrying that a strand of hair would be out of place. I was a kid.
When I hit high school, I was aware of my own beauty both internally and externally but once again it didn’t affect the things I did. Social media is a monster. Even back then and I’ll explain why. I enjoyed what I could of my years given my circumstances. My physical appearance wasn’t a hindrance in any way growing up because I didn’t care what people thought. In all honesty I never had body image issues. I never suffered self doubt or confidence. In fact, it was the opposite.
When I grew up in my 20’s Myspace was the internet crack. When I started posting photos that’s when I became somewhat aware. People would leave comments about my luscious lips. To me before my MySpace page my lips were just lips. They would comment on my toned legs how amazing they were. To me, I had toned legs because I had no car and had to walk everywhere. The point is that social media began to make me notice things about myself that I hadn’t realized or taken notice to. In my mind, I was just beautiful because.
I talk to my daughter all the time. I explain to her that as she grows up, I will let her do more things. Everything at its age. The most important thing I tell her is to enjoy her journey. She will only live it once. Don’t try to grow up too fast because before you know it you’re an adult with your own responsibilities and you can’t go back. Enjoy being care free and a child. The last most important thing I teach my daughter is yes she is beautiful. But don’t put your focus on vanity. An empty mind and an empty heart render you empty. You can be as pretty as you want but be grow up to be a woman of substance for beauty fades.
The reason I brought this up is that my daughters half sister has been dying to turn 13. She lives a much faster life than I did. But her rush to grow up makes me sad. I told her as much the other day. I told her to enjoy her youth while she can. That I couldn’t understand her rush to grow up. When I was 16, 18 was my goal so I could go out. After 18, I hit 20 and then they flew away and I stare at my 30’s. I enjoyed my years despite my adversity. But I wish I had spent more time enjoying my youth. Because there is no fountain of youth… once you go forward you can’t go back.
I am like a hurricane. I can’t help it. I’m a 5’5 Walking hurricane. Take no prisoners I genuinely can’t help it. I’ve told you I have a personality issue. Denial is not one of my issues. When I wrote my blog, don’t think I’m just saying my kid is great because everyone thinks their kid is great. My daughter is an asshole sometimes. In fact sometimes she’s also manipulative. However, I know her and work with her like a drill seargent because I value education. I’ve often said I will fund her future life expeditions so long as she goes to college. If she wants to find herself I’ll play along just do what you have to do and I’ll kick the cash.
My 6 year old is now in a tizzy over the prospects of being held back and now I want everyone’s head on a stick. So I did what I do best and wrote a letter. There’s an inside joke about my letters. I’ve written to probably every agency you can think of and ripped people a new one. I’ve drafted unemployment appeal letters ripping people apart. It’s a gift I suppose. So now, I’m putting them on notice. It’s the first time I hear my kid isn’t doing well enough to the point of failure. That’s not funny to me at all. So knowing the kids abilities I outlined a letter: