Planned Parenthood

So there are two type of single Black women in this world – those with kids and those without. Now, when I’m talking about the ones with kids, I’m not talking about the women who had that baby in high school or first year of college and still did the damned thing and got their degree.

And I’m not talking about those women that when I say baby mama, your mind eases on down the road of stereotypes and sees a woman living in the ‘jects, has a several kids from different men and appears on Maury Povich looking for her baby daddy or Judge Mathis talking bout, “he need to take care of his responsibilities.”

I’m talking about those women who are in their mid to late twenties (and sometimes their thirties), have degrees, work “good” jobs, are climbing career ladders, buying houses, etc. It could be your homegirl, your office mate, the chick who sits next to you in church, who one day tells you, “yeah girl. I’m pregnant.” And you be like, in an offhanded kinda way, “really? I didn’t know you were seeing anyone serious.” And you learn that it’s from some random nig who work at Safeway or Kenny shoes or something.* Heh.

And while you sit there eating your sandwich, trying your best not to be judgmental to her face, you can’t help but wonder, has she not heard of these things called condoms? And does she really want to be attached to a random nig for the rest of her life? And then you wonder, if she has heard of condoms and other forms of birth control, was she just on f-it status? Did she just figure that since no one had put a ring on it, but she already had everything else in life, the next logical step was having a baby?

But you can’t say that to people cause that would hurt their feelings – but I wonder as I wander and observe this chasm of have and have nots (kids) widen - I think that maybe I should just go ahead and have a baby by a random nig. I mean everybody else is doing it. Riiight? Right. Maybe I should just throw caution to the wind, hit up a happy hour, chat up some dude, and say, “I want you to be my baby faver.” Not tonight. You can take me out a few times first. Maybe we can make a baby like 6 months into the relationship when we're just starting to dislike each other. Maybe that’s when I’ll drop those infamous words, that will change both our lives, “I’m pregnant. And it’s yours.” But see I don’t think I could ever do that. That’s not me. I have no desire to take up the armor that is single motherhood. I'm not into being a martyr. Or being someone's mama and daddy. Or having theme songs written sung by Fantasia. And so here I am single and childless.

But can I just get on my soap box for two seconds and say from this single with no kids perspective – I just don’t think it’s fair that you can pop out a baby by someone, not remain committed to that person, and then jump yo’ happy ass back into my dating pool. Now I gotta “compete” with you and I have to take your “used” goods who wants to show me pictures of his 2 year old daughter on his phone. No thank you, sir. But then reality sets in, and I have to accept the world we live in and the fact that I might one day be in some Melanie/Derwin/Janae situation (sorry they’ve been playing reruns of the Game these past few nights) and not be able to give my husband his first born child.

And maybe I’m being whiny. And maybe I’m being mean. Or judgmental. But the good pastor Amaretto quoted on Tuesday, also said in that same sermon that this type of behavior is bringing something permanent into what was supposed to be a temporary situation. And I wonder – do people really know what that means?

Do you know what it means to go to a back to school night in an inner city and see nothing but mamas? And just a handful of daddies. To hear too many Black children openly wish for their fathers in their lives? Do you know what it means to have a baby with someone you don’t know, or barely know, or kinda like but still not know anything about? Do you know what it’s like to have to answer your child's question of how their parents met? Or what did you like most about my mother? Or how come y’all married? Or what diseases run on the other side of my family? To not be totally sure if the person you laid down and made a baby with is crazy? And to not have a big mama who can look that nygga in the eye and be like, "who yo' people?"

And do you know what it’s like to be on the other side of it all? To feel like you’re one of the last few Black women without kids? To be a woman who wants with all her heart to be somebody’s mommy, who’s getting older, whose eggs are dropping and not being put to use cause she is still clinging to that notion of first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage? Do you know what it’s like to feel like you’re on a losing team? To feel like things are starting to look bleak - simply cause you're clinging to your respective beliefs, morals, values, etc., etc.

To wonder if you're still unmarried and without kids at 50- was all that clinging to principle worth it? Will it matter that you held firm to what you believed? Or will your heart just ache for a child of your own? Will you wish that you had just made a baby with that nig who was good enough? Will you wish that you had made other arrangements? Other plans?

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

*And if you didn't get the reference, you lose 10 Black points. Lol.

growing out too soon?

this sunday's new york times magazine will feature a story about tweens coming out of the closet. the piece shares the stories of middle students across america who are openly homosexual and accepted by their parents and peers.

Austin doesn’t have to play “the pretend game,” as he calls it, anymore. At his
middle school, he has come out to his close friends, who have been supportive. A
few of his female friends responded that they were bisexual. “Half the girls I
know are bisexual,” he said. He hadn’t planned on coming out to his mom yet, but
she found out a week before the dance. “I told my cousin, my cousin told this
other girl, she told her mother, her mother told my mom and then my mom told
me,” Austin explained. “The only person who really has a problem with it is my
older sister, who keeps saying: ‘It’s just a phase! It’s just a phase!’ ”

source

the idea of a 12 or 13 year old coming out to the world and proclaiming themselves gay makes me feel ________. i haven't quite worked out what that blank means. for sure, the heteronormative behavior of your average 12 or 13 year old is not examined, critizied or ridiculed. that is to say that when the average 12 or 13 year old has a crush on the opposite sex or becomes coupled up, eyebrows aren't raised quite as high. although on a side rant, i think they should be since kids that age should be focused on scholastic endeavors and not on romantic entanglements. however i think coming out at such a tender age is dangerous. for what do kids at that age know about any thing, most especially their sexuality? in pushing for equality and equal rights have we steamrolled the growth process of young children; the period when youth need the moral standards of their parents to guide them through the times of uncertainty and experimentation that can be the tween and teen years? the article provides some interesting insight.

what say ya'll?

I Believe the Children are Our Future

For some reason there has been some hubbub over the President’s speech to America’s children today. I don’t understand it. Is this how it’s going to be anytime anyone dares to do something new? Never in all my years of education can I recall a president addressing me or my peers…but how can it hurt? It’s not like he’s going to be talking about healthcare and shoving some type of AGENDA down the throats of America’s little ones. He’s basically telling them to get their stuff straight and make the best of the opportunity given them.

Here here Mr. President!

I mean have you talked to a young person lately? Lord, please help us! As much information available to them for their reading consumption, a lot of these kids are lacking! Well, as Rum Punch can attest, a lot of these kids can’t read to begin with. And so there is a lot wrong with education and parenting and our communities as a whole, which we all know and talk about. After all back in our day there was money for music and art programs in our schools, we did what our parents told us, and we wanted to help old ladies cross the streets with groceries. But alas… that was then.

During the election I chuckled in my soul as Mr. Obama spoke of hope and change because I wasn’t a believer. As a Christian I think hope and change are great and exist, but could one man change the World? Um, yes, but was it this man? Um, no. In my mind it was going to take more than hope to change the political system that runs the democratic republic government of the United States of America. But one of the most positive things about Obama’s election was the shift in the psyches’ of the children. There are children who are being born who will only know a multi-racial President and that means something in a nation that is no longer just Black and White. And it means something to tell a room of multi hue children that they can be anything they aspire to be and to finally mean it…because the Presidency is possible.

And I am a little excited by the President’s speech today! I like that addressing the youth of my country is important to him. I don’t think children will instantly straighten up and do right because he gave an “It’s Cool to stay in School” message. But so often the youth are cast aside and made to feel like they don’t matter…when in reality they are the ones who will take care of us when we are no longer able.

Of all the high schools in the DC Metropolitan area, I am glad the President is speaking at Wakefield High School. I don’t know why that high school was chosen but I do know that from outward appearances it’s not the best school compared to the schools found on the North side of Arlington County. The children of immigrant and low income families attend Wakefield, and though it’s not a Lean On Me type of place, it would be just as easy to write the students who attend there off. But I know that good things can come from any place, even places that need a new coat of paint and better landscaping. And so today I sit in my cubicle swelling with pride because the first multi-racial President will be addressing America’s children from Wakefield High School…the school I graduated from! I couldn’t hope for anything better! Go Warriors!

See You In Seven

What Say You?

Every once in awhile I come across something in life that makes me wonder

“Am I crazy or is this just re-damn-diculous?!”

And I have these moments because some stuff is just so wrong there should be unanimous agreement to the wrongness! And yet some people feel its okay to wear yellow bras under white dress shirts or that macaroni and cheese from a box is the best ever! Both to which Amaretto shakes her head to the left and the right. But I understand that not everyone is me or views the world like how I do so I ask you to read the scenario below and tell me…What say you?

Here’s the scenario:

Your 3 year-old child tells you that they sleep in the bed with your ex and your ex’s new new.

You confront your ex about it because…
1) You want to make sure the child is not mistaken because this is sounds like sheer foolishness.
2) You and your ex had previously agreed that after the child was a year old they would sleep in their own bed, in their own room. And when child is at your house they sleep in their own bed.

Your ex tells you to essentially mind yo business because the three of them are a family now (even though no one is married).

Since murder is not an option what do you do?

When I think about this scenario I wonder how both the ex and new new think that this is acceptable behavior?! Is this cute? Playing house? Are we 6 year olds now?

Why isn’t the ex thinking about possible molestation when we have stories coming out about trust people in the community like priests and foster parents coercing little ones to do things that rob them of their innocence. Can you really trust any one with your child?

If there is a joint custody agreement, is each parent free to do what they want when the child is in their care?

How do you feel about this scenario? And what should the concerned parent do when their ex essentially said that they have no say?

Again, murder is not an option!

See You In Seven

PS. Happy Birthday Rum Punch! And Mr. President too.

Dating Singles with Babies

Every once in a while, there is a recurring theme that pops up in regular everyday conversation. For the past couple of days the single man with no kids or baby mama drama seemed to rear its head in a few. As Belini would say before I commence this conversation with you guys, here is my disclaimer “I believe there is a quite a few single brothers out there without children, which means there are quite a bit of baby mamas out there with babies.” Therefore I am always pleasantly surprised to find a brother without a crazy baby mama (leaving this statement for you Rum Punch…chuckle).

Last week on my way home, my neighborhood RayRay was screaming at the top of his lungs “No way ma’. I ain’t going to have another man raising my baby… that is my blood. My blood! You can’t make me feel good about that!”

Okay! RayRay… but you live at home with your mama. (chuckle)

Now I could go on and on about RayRay’s situation but that is not my chosen topic of discussion today. My topic of discussion is single folks with children and dating. I have dated men with children and it is always a touchy situation when the baby moms hear about you in the presence of the children. And likewise for the single mothers I know in serious relationships with men other than their baby daddies.

With that said, back to my disclaimer, in this day in age, as single mamas and papis set out to find their life partners and become serious with their partner. Should this new potential life mate not assist with the raising of you child, RayRay? Why are you so threatened? Are you not doing all that you can do to provide for your child? Hmm…

Listen, I know a man with two mothers. Two mothers he loves very dearly. I also know a single lady who met the love of her life while she was raising a two-year old little boy by another man. She was the one that told me, if you are serious about being with someone you love all of them. If you really want to make a life with them, you will work to be apart of there life. So RayRay when D’Angelo brings his woman dinner after a long day at the office, he is going to bring enough to feed junior.

I am going to serve this shot to you straight brother, if you doing your job, Jr. will have two pops. No chaser, check my disclaimer, this is the state we live in… you know what you have to do.

And on that note, I will conclude with a clip from one of my favorite movies.

Much luv until next week... peace :)

P.S. Courvoisier doesn’t condone the introduction of people you dating to your children unless it is serious. But it is what it is, let a him/her help out once in a while… this is a team we are building.

Staying Tuned!

So I have decided that I am going to be one of those parents who doesn’t allow her children to watch television. I know. I know. I must be crazy right? Especially being a person who is 1) cable deprived and 2) can spend an entire Saturday afternoon in Rum Punch’s basement watching a Real Housewives (insert whatever city here) marathon (of course Rum Punch is out living her life and therefore isn’t there). I mean I remember actually snickering at the girl in my Spanish class who had no television in her house. She was such a weird-4.0 having, Harvard University on a full scholarship, sneaking to watch MTV at her friend’s house, probably rich as sh*t now-girl.

I mean I love television ya’ll. But I think children born after the great 80s have difficulty understanding that what they see on TV is not real, it’s for entertainment only! That for the most part, life ain’t like that even if it’s classified as reality. My coworker was talking about how her 12 year old sister got upset that she only got $40 to shop with at the mall. We are talking upset to the point that she threw a fit and was calling people names. Say what? Does this child know what I can do with $40? Can we say lunch for week, or a few new shirts at Target! But I ask what a 12 year old needs $40 for? And maybe my parents thought the same when I asked for the $20 that I spent on a movie ticket, some ice cream maybe something from Mickey D’s. And I’m almost sure I came back with change…I never said that it wasn’t enough. But we are in a recession now…

I guess in the world of My Sweet 16 and the Suite Life of Zack and Cody…showing these young folks faking like they earned the money they spend like the rich and fabulous; it’s hard for the young and impressionable viewer to realize that it ain’t their money…but the parents. I really don’t know because I am neither a psychologist or a parent. but I do feel like violence will ensure if my child looks at me sideways because I won’t allow them to have their way with my credit card. In my mind I can see how it’s just easier to let television working its soothing mind numbing magic.

But after watching an episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race…which I found to be oh, so hilarious! And secretly I can’t wait to see the next episode. It blows my mind to think how a medium that once portrayed the likes of the Cosby kids less than 3 decades ago, has now expanded to show the fabulous thoughts and feelings of a Ms. BeBe Zahara Benet! You betta work it “girl”!

I don’t know ya’ll, I shudder to think about what our youngins will be exposed to in the years to come… Well actually I am shuddering more at the thought that maybe…they won’t be able to recognize reality from good ole entertaining fiction. But as a girl who loves tv but also enjoyed playing with cardboard boxes, I hope that there can be some sort of balance…so no one has to be that weird totally clueless kid in the class.

See You In Seven

saturday school

a few weeks ago I was chatting with rum punch about what it was like growing up in the south and how I wondered if my as yet unborn youngins would have the same experience. heck will my as yet unmet huzband have the same experience. having attended THE hbcu for black women, i've learned that black folks come in all kinds of varieties depending on where they or they people hail from: west indian, african, west coast, and the urrreaaa. and while at a majority white grad school, i encountered time and again black folks who had no idea about my experience growing up in the south. no clue about what it meant for me to know only that my peoples came from st. helena's island south cakalak and be unable to trace my heritage no further back.

so then i got to thinkin' dammit i want my kids to KNOW! cause what if i settle back in the northeast with my future family and my kids don't grow up in the south. or what if my husband doesn't share my story altho he might be "black" like me. what if he's second generation real african american or what if he's british black or grew up in laid back cali. how will i make sure that my kids will laugh when auntie rum punch wants to tell them about the world and the way things RRRRRRR.....dit dit dit dit!

every saturday morning i'm wakin' my kids up bright and early for a lil lesson.

The Arts
Pedagogy of the oppressed
the autobiography of malcolm x
the 23rd psalm and reciting it before school every morning
Attending a Black college homecoming (preferably the Marching 100)
Harold Melvin and the Bluenotes
The Elements
Learning the bus stop
Sparkle
The wiz
Five heartbeats
Boys in the hood
Amistad
Rosewood
School daze
Different world
Cosby show
Roots
Queen
the color purple

Life Skills Training
Cornrows with beads on the end
killing a flying cockroaches
Vacation bible school
Easter speeches
Walking in the mlk parade
Seeing a Klan robe up close and personal
Getting baptized in that secret compartment under the pulpit
Learning how put the needle on the record player
How to identify the nearest exit in .3 seconds when folks start runnin
how to play spades and how not to renig
Watchnight and candlelight communion
Singing in the junior choir with them hot robes
Going to Sunday school
Staying at Grandmama house for at least a weekend with no cable and no air conditioning
How to open and eat blue crabs with no utensils and no help from ya mama nem
Knowing what "mamanem" means
How to hit the floor when folks start shooting

Field Trips
Martin Luther the King Junior historic site
Bainbridge Georgia
Memphis tenn
st Helena's island
Family reunions

Cooking Class
Fish fry
oyster roast
low country boil
making a thrill
waffle house after the club


for my folks who were raised in the south or spent some quality time there, what would you add?

when I was 6...

"So tonight, let us ask ourselves - if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?"

--President-Elect Barack Obama, Grant Park, November 4, 2008


On Tuesday, I spent the day with my 6-year old niece. Like our new first-second (?) daughter, she's unbelievably cute. She's super smart and has a wisdom beyond her years. When you look in her eyes you see joy, inquisitiveness and a playful spirit.

My niece was out of school on Tuesday because the local school system was closed for business. The powers that be claimed that because of the heightened "enthusiasm" surrounding the election, children should stay home since many schools double as polling places. While I'm sure some parents grumbled at having to find childcare on such short notice, my niece was elated.

She came home on Monday bouncing off the walls, proclaiming that there was no school tomorrow. When I asked her why she replied, "cause it's election day!"

MJ -- Who is the president?
Niecey -- George Washington.....Carver
MJ -- Uhhh, no. George Bush but he's forgettable. Who do we want to be president?
Niecey -- Arack Obama!
MJ -- Barack Obama! Go girl go girl go girl!

So the next morning, my niece and I were up bright and early. I had signed up to volunteer with the Obama campaign in Georgia and decided to take her along with me. As we pulled up to the local Democratic headquarters, I felt excited and cautiously optimistic. We walked up to the front desk and offered ourselves for whatever task needed to be done. The woman smiled and sent us out front to wave Obama signs along the sidewalk.

I grabbed a sign and passed one to my niece who looked at my skeptically. But once we stepped out front she became the biggest cheerleader. We took pictures with our signs and posed in front of a lifesize Arack Obama. She caught on quickly...FIRED UP! READY TO GO! FIRED UP! READY TO GO! She was a trooper for about 30 minutes before she asked, "can I play games on your cellphone?" At that point I knew it was time to go.

Now, a day after the morning after, as I talk to my friends, family members, co-workers, and random strangers on the street about how "we did it," I am still in quiet shock and ecstatic on the inside. I am overwhelmed with happiness for my grandmother, who did not have the opportunity to graduate from high school because she was married with children by the time she was 16. I am elated for my mother, who saw a cross burned on her aunt's front lawn when she was a little girl. But what moves me the most is my niece and her Obama experience. How wonderful it is that she got to participate in this election. That she can look back at that photo of her holding an Obama sign over her head at age 6 and say to her grandkids, I was there! That she got to witness Obama's resounding victory over McCain when folks thought it couldn't be done. And most of all that she gets to start her racial victories, her "how we got over" stories with Barack, her "I remember when the first black president was elected" story at the age of 6. Her forever gon be so fun!

Please Save the Children

It’s summertime and the living is easy! The fish are jumping…and the cotton is high! I so looooved summertime in my youth. As I sit in my cubicle I allow my mind to wonder back to the swimming, the cookouts, ice cream cones and no school and it makes me smile, and helps the day to go by much faster. There was something very heavenly about that vacation time *Sing angelic chorus! Sing!* Kids chant no more school, no more books, no more teacher’s dirty looks while parents ask themselves what they are going to do about the children. What does one do with little ones who aren’t old or wise enough to be latchkey kids, grandma’s got her own life to live and well you ain’t trying to break the bank to pay some woman in a trailer to watch them. Well the answer becomes quite simple really, you pawn them off on whomever you can!

And so begins my tale...

I rent a room from a lady I’ve know for about thirteen years. Now this familiarity allows my mom to worry less and the arrangement works quite well for landlady and me. We’re like two ships passing in the night, on our way to our respective jobs. Landlady cleans the common areas and sometimes she makes me eat food she’s prepared. Hello? Can we say win, win? Yes we can! So a couple weeks back, during one of those free meals she cooked up, she informed me that her niece (12) and nephew (9) would be hanging out in our home for a few days in this summer because their mama and their papa were busy working. Well what could I say, like I said I rent a room, I ain’t on no deed, and since I knew these children I wasn’t stressing…

But how many of ya’ll know that the devil comes in many forms!

When I came back from Atlanta the house was like I had never seen it before! There were pillows on the floor, dishes piled in the sink, an odor, and food on the table. It was like an open invitation for roaches to come do the Cupid Shuffle on the table. Seriously! Please come go with me ya’ll back to the Color Purple when Celie walks into Mister’s kitchen for the first time and the walls were black! Ya’ll remember that? And so for a nano second I was like let me braid my hair and get my bucket and get to scrubbing. You know, help the folks out and such, but then I was like f-it I’m just going into to my room. And so I did and closed my door.

Peace and serenity.

There have been a few times when I came home early from work (quite unexpectedly I might add) and found the children home alone. TV blasting. Kitchen and bathroom nasty. And them doing unspeakable things with toast and chewing gum. So I told them to let me know if something caught on fire, otherwise I’d be in my room. And I closed my door.

Safe and secure from all alarms.

And then it happened. It was a few Sundays ago. I didn’t get myself together in time to go to church, so I was just piddling in my room. I had showered and dressed and was about to go to somebody’s cookout. The house was quiet and I was enjoying just taking my leisurely time, enjoying my day. I was standing in the mirror applying lip gloss when suddenly my door opened! And then I saw the head of both the niece and the nephew, wide-eyed and mouth agape. Immediately when the saw me they apologized and closed my door. WTF?

But in those few moments I had already decided to kill them… slowly. Softly. Maybe with a pillow. Or maybe with a knife. Heh.

I mean really! Why didn’t they knock? What if I had been naked? Why are they opening my door? And the fact that they apologized means that they knew better! Is this how things go down when I’m not home? Do I need to lock up my good…um. Well still, had I not been there, would they have gone through my things?

Sadly, the shock of their violation prevented me from ripping them a new one right then on the spot. And the fact that sometimes I forget I am an adult and can reprimand a child for their ignorant and naughty behavior if the situation requires it. But I will say this, if they so much as look at my door or are tempted to even touch the knob, oh heaven help the child! I can’t wait for school to start again! It’s summertime, and the living is supposed to be easy. But my patience is thin ya'll...and I want revenge. I can’t be catching no case over some ignorant devil touched children! I’m too cute to be tossing salads in prison!

See You in Seven

Truth and Consequences

My friend, we’ll just call him Rolando, is married with a 2-year old daughter. I, of course am single, ready to mingle and have no kids. So needless to say, we both view this spinning orb a little differently. Last week Rolando was telling me about his west coast homegirl Renita, who is also married and a mother of a 7-year old daughter. And so Rolando went on to explain that while Renita and daughter were out and about, doing the things that Californians do in the sunshine they witnessed two men antiquing and then sharing a kiss!

Dum. Dum. Duuuuuuuuuuuuuum! Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do?

So the dilemma (cue Nelly and Kelly Roland) was that Renita didn’t know how she should explain this sit-chew-ation to daughter…even though daughter had gone on with her gay and merry way. So Renita had asked Rolando his opinion…well actually she had asked him what he thought about gay people; and then after he responded she would tell him why she was asking. But as Rolando shared all of this with me I felt nothing needed to be explained to daughter since she didn’t ask any questions about what she just saw. I’m of the thinking that if my children have a question about anything in this here world I’ll give them the talk real and straight. But in this scenario, given daughter’s age I felt that it was cool to keep the don’t ask don’t tell policy in play.

I just didn’t see the need to stop on the sidewalk, ice cream dripping off cones and whatnot and attempt to explain to daughter that its true that men like women and vice versa. But sometimes: men like men. Women like women. Some like both men and women. Some men like to dress like women, but still like women. While some men who dress like women actually like men. Some men have surgery to become women to change how God made them. And sometimes people are just experimenting and having a time thats good until they realize what gender lines should not be crossed.

Hello? Could you imagine a 7-year old’s face? Especially since she didn’t ask in the first place?

Then Rolando gave a real life parenting example about not waiting for a child to ask questions, which I can’t really recall now because, truth be told, I wasn’t listening to him, just waiting for my turn to talk.

Then I asked him what he would do if his little one walked in on him and his wife doing that thing, that thing, that thiiiing?
Would he grab a robe and attempt to explain the birds, the bees, the river and the trees? Especially if little one just continues to ask for a glass of water?

He said he would. I called him a liar!

His little one is 2 and Renita’s little one is 7 and some things don’t need to be explained when they are that young. I say, let them know that babies still come from storks, that they were only dreaming when they saw two men kiss, and that Santa is having coffee with the Tooth Fairy as we speak. Let the little ones be blissfully ignorant for a little bit longer. Being out the loop and lied too is a part of childhood. They’ll learn the truth someday. Be it from a heart to heart, from their friend’s older brother wearing a boa, or from Google.

See You in Seven

That's Just My Baby Daddy

Many years ago I was cool with this woman (and since here at the 5 we like to give pseudonyms, I’ll call her Erica) who was a single mother with a four year old daughter. She worked at a hotel for a pitiful hourly wage + shared tips. The job was not your typical 9-5, and she usually worked the early morning shift (clock in at 6 am) and weekends. When summer began she found herself in a bind. She couldn’t afford child care and could barely pay for her basic living expenses. Her child’s father who lived 3.5 hours away offered relief. He suggested that their daughter live with him throughout the summer (instead of her usual two weeks) and maybe even during the school year so that Erica could get on her feet. He worked a decent job and had a family support system aka his momma who could watch the child during the day for free. The offer seemed reasonable to me, but Erica turned it down. It seemed that she a. she took some twisted pride in skruggling and b. thought that sending the child to her father would give the illusion that she was a bad mother. I don’t even have time to get into the chorus of naysayers, her mother included, who told her not to send that child down to her father.

I could never truly wrap my mind around her decision. Surely if you had laid down and made a baby with this man then he could and should have to provide more than just monetary support, especially if he were more than capable. I’m not down with sending a child to live with crazy, but then that leads to a whole ‘nother post full of questions about making babies with crazy. But as usual I digress… Now, while Erica's situation was happening I was a pseudo nanny to my cousin’s daughter. He was her main caregiver while the mother of his child was attending school two hours away. He had a family support system which included me and his grandparents, and we worked together to take care of the baby while he was at work. Here in the midst of my single, no kids, life were two women handling the same situation completely differently.

Of course I was on the side of ‘send that chile to his daddy.’ But that’s just how I was raised. My momma would leave us with our daddy in a heartbeat. She would go get her weekly manicure, hair did, hang out with her sisters, work, pursue her PhD, whatever. She tells stories of how when I was a baby, and she was without me, people would ask, “Where is lil’ Rum Punch?” “With her father,” she would respond. Blasphemy! Was their reaction. "You left her with him," they would ask. "Um yeah," she would say.

I know that I have seen one too many talk shows where women (usually married) are lamenting about having to do the child rearing by themselves while the husband works too much, or golfs every weekend, or just lays on the couch and waits for dinner. I have even heard wives say, “I have three children, my husband included.” What the hell? Now he’s a child? No, he’s a grown ass man. Don’t go letting him off the hook from taking responsibility for raising y’alls child(ren).

I know that as women we like to carry that cross and that load around. Why is anyone’s guess. I, Rum Punch don’t get down that way. And so as I get serious about selecting a mate, I like to learn about a man’s idea of parenting. Oh the discussions I have had! I recently got into a heated argument with a man who tried to tell me that I was being selfish for even saying and thinking what I know which is that I will have to have some time away from the kids. Apparently me stating that I will have to get my hair done made me selfish cause I wasn't thinking about the kids. Excuse me? I'm just stating facts. Am I supposed to look broke down and not get my hair done? Oh I'm getting my hair done. And when I do I ain't taking the kids. Do y'all know I saw a woman bring a toddler and a baby in a big ass carriage to the hair dresser on a Saturday morning? What in the world? Couldn't no one watch them kids? Oh no, that is not the business and I am not the one! And then I asked him, what about if I have to run to the grocery store? If you are at home, I know you don't think I'm taking the kids. The conversation was not pretty y'all, there was a lot of yelling and him saying something about "You do whatever you want, those ain't my kids..." Ok my pressure is going up just thinking bout this, let me focus.

So while I know that those were hypothetical situations and that no one knows what they’ll do or won’t do until they get in the moment. But I know that when I think about who and what I want as a husband and hopefully, eventually father of our children, I envision a co-parent, a hands-on dad, a mothafuckin helpmate-someone who’s down (or clearly understands he has a role in this too) to change diapers, get up for feedings, dress the kids, handle the carpool, help with homework, feed the kids if I ain't home yet and on, and on. Some people I've met have called me crazy, said I was reaching for the stars, but I say, that I know how I was raised and what I saw growing up. A man can be a parent too. If us women would just let him.

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

Party Like A Parent

You know the saying what God has for you is for you? True words man, truer words. A couple of weeks ago I was with family gatherin and reunionin and shit. Let me stop right here and say that I was one of two female cousins over the age of 25 there. My male cousins are plentiful. And they were all there, either married with kids, bunned up with kids, had a child with them (cause they take of they kids) but mother of child/girlfriend/wifey was not present, or just bunned up without kids. I was pretty much the only “grown” person flying solo. So I was left to sit with the widowed old great aunties and reminisce on a simpler time.

Anyway. Once the old biddies went to bed immediately after sunset, it was me hangin’ with the youngins’ (and I’m really using this term loosely) who all seemed to have forgotten they had children. There we were ten grown folk crammed in a small hotel room enjoying an array of alcoholic beverages. It was all good in the neighborhood until… The children began running every which way. “Get in the bed,” the adults would scream. The four kids would jump and huddle into the double sized bed and giggle away. Until… They would get out of the bed and run around some more. And who could blame them? The lights were still on, the television was blaring, the adults were telling lively stories riddled with cuss words and appropriate hand gestures, while laughter erupted and hung in the air. It was a par-tay! Until… “Get in the bed,” the adults would scream. And so this merry-go-round ride went on until I got a headache and had to take it to my own bed.

Now don’t get me wrong, Rum Punch likes a drank and a good time. But I have always thought that once I became a mother I would have to tuck some of my “wild” ways away. This is not to say that good times would be gone forever. But this is to say that I always assumed there would be an appropriate time and place for these good times. And in my mind it involves the kids asleep at the house being watched by Big Mama while my huzband and I are at somebody’s house party, or on a mini weekend vacay with another couple getting our drink, party, love making (not swinger style though) and then our sleep on. I always thought that when you become a parent, you have to let some things go. If you’re sharing a room with your kids then you probably should go to bed with them at a decent hour. And you might not want to get intoxicated (and then some) with them around. And that’s reality so color me purple © Little Brother.

Now contrast this hotel experience with my trip to the beach that weekend with my older female cousin who is married with two young kids. They brought the world with them to the beach: umbrella, chairs, cooler, a huge bag full of shovels, buckets, toys and more toys. All I had was a towel and a huge bag filled with my ipod, cell phone and good reading material. Do I need to point out that this cousin was not in the hotel room living it up? I didn’t think so. Anyway. When it was time to pack it up, I looked around the kids were wet, sandy and hungy, it seemed like we had made a home right there in the sand, and then I thought, “who’s going to take all this shit back to the car?” Of course I took something, but my cousin and her hubby worked like a team. Loading everything up, taking turns to take the kids to bathroom so they could change into dry clothes, keeping the kids occupied while they quietly debated where we should stop to eat. Man parenting it ain’t easy, I thought as I fell asleep in the back of the minivan. I mean I was exhausted and all I had done was laid out in the sun.

And this brings me back to what God has for me is for me. Even though my ovaries start to hurt when I see a cute little baby on the train or getting christened or enjoying a stroller ride and I get that I want a baby twinge (which naturally leads to the gotta find a husband first tug), He knows I'm not ready to be a parent right now because I'm a true believer that once I join the motherhood club some things about me are going to have to change. To me being a parent means making sacrifices. It means growing up. It means maturing. It means being unselfish and thinking of someone else’s needs. And since I’m not ready to change yet, Rum Punch ain't even thinkin bout birthin' no babies. Well I might think about it from time to time, but I'm not actively seeking to make it a reality. Nope. I haven't completely wrapped my mind around the parenting thing. Right now, I'm loving stacking my dough, just packing a bag to take a last minute trip and then crashing on a friend's futon, doing what I want when I want. Partying like a single person without kids! Totally Dude!

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

First Comes Love... Sometimes

My friend and her husband welcomed their first child into this world last Tuesday. I am so happy and proud and cannot wait to visit the newest addition to their family. They documented his born day by snapping photos every step of the way, from them exiting the house to her husband putting on his scrubs to my homegirl laying on the table in the delivery room being prepped for her c-section. And of course many photos of the proud parents with their new son in the hospital room and upon his arrival home.

Yesterday I showed the photos to my mom. She was doing the usual "awww" here and "ahhh" there. And then, with a look of deep concern in her eyes, she turned to me and said "when are you going to have one?" @#$%&!? You talkin to me? I'm still screening potential sperm donors! That alone can easily take a decade. A husband would be nice, but I'm not holding my breath on that one. I expressed these thoughts to my mother. Her response was what happens if I don't find that great husband or perfect sperm.

Hmmmm.....

First giving thanks to my mother for that hefty dose of reality, I must admit that I really have some thinking and praying to do on this subject. Like many women [and men], I always dreamed of getting married prior to having children. I've never been one to give a damn about tradition. I feel that marriage first is just more practical. Two salaries instead of one, four hands to hold/change/feed instead of two, twice as many family members/babysitters... all that good stuff. Like the old saying, there is strength in numbers. But in the real world, it doesn't always go down like that.

So am I willing to start having kids if, at a certain point in my life, I am still single? Absolutely. I cannot think of a greater joy than looking into the eyes of my little ones and feel my heart swell with the love of a mother. There are plenty of folk who do not want children, but I have always known that God intended for me to be somebody's mama. And not just because I was born with ovaries.

Now the hardest decision to make will be when to stop executing plan A and proceed with plan B. This will definitely require preparation and planning. I would have to decide how much money I want to have saved, what neighborhood to live in (for scholastic purposes), how much time I will take off from work, etc. The most important of these variables being where is said baby coming from. Do I use a sperm bank? Well a sperm bank can tell you whatever they want about the donor but you never really know until the baby is born. What if they screw up and give me a Japanese man's sperm when I requested a Black man from Chicago? Do I use a personal donor? Meaning someone I personally know who makes an [legal] agreement to donate their sperm to me and relinquish their parental rights. I've seen many same sex couples use this method. Or do I adopt? I've always wanted to adopt a child, even if I get married and give birth to my husband's children. There are too many black babies that need a home and some love. And I don't have to go all the way to Africa to find one. There are plenty right 'chere in the DMV.

Damn that's a lot to consider! I know that I don't need to have answers overnight. But I definitely have some thinking to do. Time don't wait for no man. My grandma told me that one day. She gave birth to my dad and his twin sister at age 42; they were her eighth and ninth children. Crazy, right? Well she had a husband... Lol.

Are you willing to have children if you do not marry?


Tumultuously Yours,
Dark & Stormy

Parents Just Don't Understand

Fifteen. It was a year of self discovery. And angst. An age of knowing that we were smarter than our parents. Couldn’t nobody tell us nothing! We were excited about driving, and moving out and going to college. Just waiting to be grown-legally, because in our minds, at fifteen we already were. Remember that? Makes you laugh now right?

My cousin is fifteen and she has me thinking a lot about my recent youth. It seems like she is so different from me. She’s been exposed to a lot more things than I was in her childhood, and it just seems like she’s lost something that I had at her age. I find myself doing that thing to her that I most hated; smooshing her face until she looks like a little pug dog and telling her how I remember when she was born. When she learned to walk. And talk. And would follow me around wherever I went. Then this segues into me telling her how much she’s grown. Then I realize what I’m doing and I apologize for being corny, but I just can’t help it. And I know it’s annoying to have someone go on and on about growth that is suppose to happen, because I was so annoyed at fifteen. But she doesn’t understand how amazing it is to watch someone not just grow taller, but become a person in the process.

Growing up as an only child I didn’t consult too many folks with my questions. We always lived away from my family so I just had my parents; and I knew that most of the time they couldn’t relate to anything I had to say. Now I feel like it would have been nice to have someone else to talk to about life. So I try to be available for my little cousin. She’s gets on my last damn nerve sometimes though. I won’t go into the hours of conversation I endured in which she discussed, in minute detail, breaking up and getting back together with her little boyfriend. The “drama” she went through-like they were going to get married or something! Arrrgh! (insert my eye roll here)

On Saturday she called me with another tale. She said that she had this friend, who was having sex with her boyfriend and just found out she was pregnant.

“What should she do, she hasn’t told her mom yet?”

Wow. I nearly dropped the phone. You know, because usually when someone is talking about a friend, it’s really them. And I just wasn’t ready to deal with my baby cousin (notice she’s a baby now) having sex. Let alone being pregnant!

But what could be done in this situation I didn’t know. My views on abortion have shifted through the years, but the thought of being a mom at fifteen is an unimaginable reality. And yet I’ve seen the emotional aftermath abortions can wreak. Adoption? To carry a baby to term and give it up. To have that same child hunt you down one day, full of questions and maybe anger. It all seems too much for a young person to have to think about. Too real. Too grown. Especially when the girl’s biggest fear is telling her mom. Not feeding or clothing the baby. Not raising a child to be a productive member of society. Just telling her mom. Arrgh! Kids!

Little cousin assured me that it wasn’t her.

I asked her repeatedly “Are you sure it isn’t you? I mean it’s okay if it is.” It wasn’t though.

“It’s not me! Geez!” Then my aunt started calling her to do something in the background. Little cousin didn’t want to talk about this in front of her mom. Which I could totally understand. As she rushed to get off the phone she said

“So she has to tell her mom right? Even though she’s going to get mad?”

“Of course little cousin, when you do grown up things you have to face the consequences.”

I felt so much older than the 11 years that separate us as I said this. But I was glad she called me, and felt comfortable enough to ask me. The thought of three fifteen year-olds trying to figure out what to do about a baby was scary. At fifteen what do they know? Not a damn thing! But they'll realize that later on, in their twenties.

See You in Seven

Introducing a Possible...Bahama Mama

Editor's Note: as the name suggests, this blog features the views of 5 very different women and the possible -- meaning from time to time we will feature other writers beyond the 5 in the mix. Today we debut our first possible, Bahama Mama. Hope you enjoy!

Bahama Mama: Chilled and sweet with just enough hidden intoxication to keep you on your toes. A mother of two who is following the unorthodox map of a quarter life crisis. Grasping at life with the eager hands of a child and forging a path to build strength, character and knowledge to pass onto her children. For it is not expendable riches that keep generations wealthy, but indispensable wisdom that allows us conquer all of life's pitfalls.

My favorite Christmas movie is A Christmas Carol. Okay, it is actually the story of Ebenezer Scrooge that is my favorite. It doesn’t matter how the story is being brought to me, whether it’s an adaptation of the Charles Dickens original, the eighties flick starring James Belushi, or the animated version featuring none other than Mr. Fred Flintstone, I always enjoy the tale. This is my flick of choice because at the end I always think about the different stages in my life. If I had the opportunity to go back, like Ebenezer, I wonder what goals, passions and dreams I would cling to.

I know that if I looked back on my life as a child, one of my goals would not have been to be a single mother of two, in her mid-twenties with so many questions to life unanswered. I ran this by my therapist ( and yes I am a black woman who goes to counseling!), and she logically told me “your twenties are a time when you’re finding out what to do. You’re finding yourself.” I laughed a bit derisively, ‘cause clearly this woman didn’t know the stress that I was going through. I didn’t have time to find myself. Between the drama with their father, working and meeting the needs of my daughters who are a day shy of being a year apart, my mind could not fathom the thought that I even had the right to find out who I was. Because it is the thoughts of many Americans that by the time we have children, we should “know ourselves” or “have it together”.

It wasn’t the pain of childbirth, or the sleepless nights that followed which had me looking around and thinking “what the hell?” It was the shock that set in after I began to comprehend that I was too busy for me. I was so lost in being a mom, a girlfriend, a daughter, and all the other labels I carried, that I started to fold under the pressure. But like many black women before me, my back was bent, but not broken. My spirit was ailing and in need of some serious medicine. So, I stopped and thought about me. As moms we tend to take care of everyone but self, but how can we love and nurture our children, when we don’t love and nurture ourselves? Its impossible ladies.

I began to think about all the things that I wanted before I had children. I thought about the hobbies that I liked to do, the people I liked to be around and I started to make time for me. It was hard, but I handed over some responsibility to their father (and we’ll talk about that later!), and did me. Heather Headley said it best “I need some me time”. It doesn’t matter what you do with those moments, which should never be stolen because you have a right to not cook dinner all the time, or to hand the kids over at bath time. Read a book, go to a movie, do anything that YOU want to do. And ladies (moms, wives, girlfriends, lovers) contrary to what some think, we all need that time to step back, look at our lives, and reassess the situation to make sure that we are happy. Though my life is no where near what I envisioned it to be at this time, I’m learning, growing and becoming a damn better person in the process.

I Choose You...To Be My Baby Mama

It's too many black women that can say they mothers
But can’t say that they wives
-Retrospect For Life, Common (pre-Kanye beats, pre-Erykah Badussy that had him in a trance, pre-crochet sweater vests…)

So I got a call a few weeks ago from an ex-boyfriend asking me to have his child. Yeah, you read that right. He wants me to have a baby with him. And please note that I said ex-boyfriend. His convincing reasons were as follows: we have a history together, we had a “good” relationship and he thinks I will be a great mother. I can’t argue with him on the last part. Oh vanity, thy name is Rum Punch. So he tells me that we should have a child, to which I thought:

Has it come to this? Did I miss a memo? Is this what’s hot in the streets? Let’s just go on ahead and make a baby? Ignore the fact that I have always envisioned myself as a wife first?Apparently it’s not just me, because a friend of mine told me that her boyfriend suggested that they forgo marriage vows and just have a baby. Her reply: “if you can commit to being a parent, then you can commit to being a husband.” Truer words, truer words…

What her boyfriend and my ex have in common is that they are knocking on 30's door (actually the ex turned 30 yesterday) and they are feeling old. But if memory serves me correctly, 30 is the new 20, so my ex has plenty of time to have kids. But maybe not in his mind, especially when he is surrounded by friends who have kids but not necessarily wives. Oh it’s hard out here for a Black man with no kids. He must feel like an outcast in his circle.

I told friends that the ex must be going through a mid life crisis. Their chorus of replies is that he’s only 30, so it can’t be…but when you take into account that the average Black man’s life expectancy is age 69, hmmm…he might be worrying about how many years he has left, about being the old dad on the playground, about leaving a legacy…And he might want to supplement his life with a child because that seems to be a lot easier and than having a wife and raising a family together.

So to see where is head is, I asked the ex, if he knows how much children cost. His response was, “no.” Well check this, and then holla at me when you’re contributing to a 401k plan and you have some money to put into a 529. Yeah, he told me that I was worrying about the wrong things. It seems like his approach (and other men out there) is: make baby, let chips fall where they may.

He seems cool with the making a baby part but detached from the raising and providing for a child part. He just wants a little mini-he, a child he can take around and show off, see when it’s convenient for him, instill lessons and values in him not necessarily on a daily basis through example but when he picks him up from baby mama’s house…he can have someone who looks like him and will carry on his name. Meanwhile I would be left with the heavy lifting of child rearing and its daily grind.

But y’all I have to admit, I almost fell into the ‘let’s just make a baby’ vortex. I read all these depressing statistics about the rise of unmarried Black women, I know my clock is starting to tick, I see cute babies being christened at my church and I get that twinge. But then I think: anyone can make a baby, that’s easy. What’s that you say, Rum Punch? I say making a baby is easy. Raising a child is hard but actually making a baby, oh that’s easy. I mean when you compare it to: meeting someone, getting to know that someone, trusting that person enough that you allow yourself to fall in love, standing before God & loved ones to commit your life with someone and then actually making a life with that person for better or for worse, through sickness and in health, well, you know the rest.

And here’s what’s not in the vows: mortgage payments, sick children, college tuition, the difficulty of aging, being faithful, making the decision to come home everyday and being accountable to someone else. That is hard. And it’s scary. But that's what I want. But unfortunately, as a generation that has had so much handed to us, a lot of us don’t want to work that hard. So now I am left with the request that I become someone’s baby mama because he trusts me enough to have his child but not enough to be his wife. And this is not ok. Well, not for me. Silly me for wanting to build a life with someone.

Mint Julep and I were lamenting that we wished someone had hipped us to the game. I wish a Black fairy godmother had appeared à la Miss One from The Wiz mixed with a little bippity boppty boo and said to me, “honey chile, you may wanna get out that 1950s time warp you living in and open your eyes. That fairytale life you wanted might not happen.” But as women, we keep holding on and pushing the dream. And I'm not ready to let go yet! My little cousin at four years old, said, “I’m a princess, and I’m going to marry a prince someday.” Yeah it was cute at the time and since I didn’t wanna bust her bubble at the tender age of four, all I could say was, “I heard that girl. When you find him, find out if he has an uncle for me. A Duke perhaps…”

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

Author’s Note: On a lighter and somewhat related note (I did mention Miss One in the last paragraph), The Wiz is coming out on DVD! Who would y’all cast in a modern day version of the movie? My list is below! All-star cast!

Dorothy- Keke Palmer (from Akeelah and the Bee…someone told me she can sing…) or Raven Symone
Scarecrow- Chris Brown
Tin Man – Raheem Devaughn (Chocolate City Baby!)
Cowardly Lion – Reuben Studdard
Miss One – Jennifer Hudson
Evilene – Queen Latifah or Jill Scott
The Wiz – Jamie Foxx or Wayne Brady (he has that slick factor)
Glinda the Good Witch – The one and only Ms. Patti Labelle