Part III-Some Other Shit I been marinating on...
Alas I have returned victorious from ACL. Ok, victorious is a bit of a stretch, but we'll get into that later.
As promised I been thinking about some other shit- when I started the series I was totally headed in a different direction in reference to the shit I was marinating upon. As a matter of fact, I have no fucking clue what I was originally thinking about other than spirituality and sabotage. And! If we're being totally honest, I'm not thinking about that shit anymore either. Perhaps this the reason why I was so unsuccessful at marriage. My inability to stay focused on some something that's botherin' me and trying to figure it out patiently is for shit. Instead, I just cut bait and move-on. Wow I'm glad I'm writing this down, my therapist just asked me last week why the fuck I was there and I had no real answer. (Ok, Ok, she didn't say fuck, but she implied it- I know an implied fuck when I hear that shit).
I'm gonna skip around my usual list format, cause I just set it up that way in the title because I thought It would flow better.
Can you be to drunk? There was a time when I would have said- "Nah!! you can be drunker than you should be, but you can never be to drunk!" That time has passed, no fo real, that time has passed. Here are some signs you may have in fact have been to drunk: the moment you wake you know you must send at least 15 apology texts(some to people you just met), you have a vague recollection of perhaps, just maybe, almost falling off a roof, YOU HAVE FUCKING NO RECOLLECTION OF A SHOW SOME PEOPLE ARE SAYING WAS ONE OF KANYE'S BEST EVER. Seriously, none. Too drunk, rookie move peeps and one that has me for the first time ever questioning my drunkenness. I'll get back to it- but I may sorta need a little break.....from vodka. Wine and beer are still on the table. A wise sage once said to me: "Wine, Wine is safe". And she was right, just as no good thing has ever happened after midnight, these are words to live by. So! Dear Vodka- welcome to the "no brown liquor rule" club. I will miss you, but this is for the best.
Will my Daughter be a Ho? or maybe Just an Asshole? There is a lot of things that have this thought swirling around my mind right now. Seriously I have observed the following in just the last 2 days- a nine, maaaybe 10 yr old be so fucking rude and disrespectful to HER MOTHER, that was giving her carte blanche to buy whatever she wanted, that I swear to you I almost intervened.
This is the conversation I heard:
"Mom, just walk away mom, just walk away. I'll let you know when I'm ready to check out" (Mom slinks away to, I don't read Harlequin romances at the check out aisle and wait?)
This would have been my response:
"The Hell you will you little shit! The last time I checked I had the fucking job around here or the good sense to marry someone with one. Remind me again what you've accomplished in your nine fucking years? Other than drain my resources and strain my already unhappy and sexually unfulfilling relationship. I'll tell you when were checking out- now. And what you're getting-nothing Take your ass to the car before I beat it all they way there."
Clearly this falls under the asshole umbrella. But fo real I see this non-sense all the time. Fuck that- I run this homey. Behave yourself and I'll let you live to be a grownup and run your own shit.
And what about a ho? Fo real yo- apparently now that my child is over 4 ft tall she needs a mini-skirt in leopard print with a matching bra and off the shoulder crop top t-shirt. Did I just fucking fall asleep and wake in Toddlers and Tiara's- The Flashdance Years?
Lemme circle back though and keep it real. I do not own a pair of flats. I do not really own heels shorter about 4 inches. I know exactly what I look like and exactly what I'm doing looking like that. Whatcha think I rap for to push a fuckin Rav4? ? I struggle with the concept of "do as I say not as I do" But here's the storyline that I've been trying to convince myself of, and it gets harder and harder every time I think about my beautiful daughter growing up and just settling for being hot( and she will be- she get from her mama). I think in the modern woman's struggle for equality (and its a struggle 30 yr old white male whining about reverse discrimination, go fuck yourself douche you been suckin' off the teet of entitlement for generations, move over, give someone else a turn, and go learn a fucking skill) we have left out the feminine in feminism. When I first heard this theory it I found it profound. I think it can mean different things depending on the kind of feminine you are, so I will just give to you as a thought to chew on. And so how am I gonna pass on to my daughter that its ok to be beautiful, age appropriately sexy, and the fuckin smartest person in the room? How can she learn that with the trial and error method or the relapses into the trial and error method - and by trial and error method I mean givin it(it being sex, position, or need to fit in) up to soon for the wrong reason or just to feel powerful? Lot's to marinate on. I rarely wish I had a boy, this is not one of those times.
Last, but most certainly not least: Can you be to Crunk? One of the originators of crunk and founding members of Outkast, Big Boi (whom I'm told I had the great pleasure of seeing twice on Friday...yea I got nothing, thanks Vodka) would probably say no. I would say he's is definitely not a 34 yr white woman from the burbs trying to act like shes hard as hell- old as hell? probably going to hell? Yes. Hard as Hell? No. That's my word.
R
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
Jesus was not a Budaist but Buda would have made a good Christian
Part II Spirituality
God. A pretty heavy topic for this blog I think. I mean when you use the word Jesus and fuck in the same sentence, you're kinda automatically an asshole. Just Sayin. But the one thing I promised myself about this blog when I embarked upon it is that I would keep it Gangsta, but also really talk about the shit I think about in the way that I think about it. And I've already used Jesus and fuck in a sentence (twice) so I'm pretty much an asshole already.
So! Let's get after it shall we? First of all let me say this, I consider myself a Christian. The main reason I do this is because I'm white and WASP-y looking and it's just easier. Also, if you've ever seen pictures of my father from 1977 he looks just like fucking Jesus(that's 3). The other reason is that fo real yo, in my world view all that shit is really the same. So why not pick the religion that will mitigate your airport pat downs?
So you might be wondering "Damm GD! If you've gotten this shit so streamlined why are devoting a whole post to it? We aren't trying to get all philosophical and shit. Get to that other shit your marinating on- I bet that's funny."
The truth as long as I can remember I have craved the presence of God in my life. Crazy right? But not really. I think that's most people, maybe not God per se that you grew up with being forced on you, have a God shaped hole in their heart and are just looking to find the shape of God that fits it.(Good shit right? A course In Miracles- read that shit its awesome)
Now here's the catch, remember pt.I? What's my fatal flaw? That's right- all or nothing. And this is where, every time with every version of God there is(and on the real, I think all religions are a manifestation of one God) I stumble. Fo real yo if I did not have mad control issues I would be the fuckin craziest skid row livin' addict you ever met. Every time, in every instance, I can go right up to the line and the be like "yea no- not today" (Don't hate, its kept me off the Meth that and that shit is ghetto, like huffing paint.)
Alas I digress, I bring up drug use and the word fuck in the context of Jesus(aaand 4) to make this point People that are addicted to God, any God, are fuckin nuts and they scare me. What's more, I could totally be that girl! (okay- so right here I totally wanted to put this clip of Tommy Chong saying "Before I was all messed up on drugs, now I'm all messed up on the Lord' Cause you know my Dad let me Listen to the Up in Smoke LP when I was 9- nostalgia.Couldn't find it. this shits good too)
And there in lies my quandary- crazy for The Lord =not Gangsta. Moreover, its hard to find church with peeps that like to say Fuck. That being said, I'm Catholic and my people do like liquor and swearing. As a matter of fact when I was a stay at home mom (don't laugh, I rocked that shit) I found my church lady group because the leader told us if we forgot to make flower arrangements for Mass we would go to Hell. Total dead pan, she wasn't fuckin around. #Gangsta.
And so peeps normally I would not beg for your commentary on my rantings- but I'm thinking on sabotage and spirituality I may need them. Thinking about this shit is making me so uncomfortable that I know somethings gotta give.
Damn you 1 million self help books Damn you to hell with the ladies that forgot to make flowers.
I didn't link ya'll a ton o' jamz this time cause I fuckin hate Jesus rock. (That's 5 ding-ding-ding we have a winner or a heathen or whatev) But Ima leave you with my Boy Kanye. In just 4 short days we shall be together at ACL where he will gaze out over the pasty, natural fiber clad crowd and lock eyes with me. In that moment, I know he'll choose me cause he can tell your girl is down to ride. That's my Word.
God. A pretty heavy topic for this blog I think. I mean when you use the word Jesus and fuck in the same sentence, you're kinda automatically an asshole. Just Sayin. But the one thing I promised myself about this blog when I embarked upon it is that I would keep it Gangsta, but also really talk about the shit I think about in the way that I think about it. And I've already used Jesus and fuck in a sentence (twice) so I'm pretty much an asshole already.
So! Let's get after it shall we? First of all let me say this, I consider myself a Christian. The main reason I do this is because I'm white and WASP-y looking and it's just easier. Also, if you've ever seen pictures of my father from 1977 he looks just like fucking Jesus(that's 3). The other reason is that fo real yo, in my world view all that shit is really the same. So why not pick the religion that will mitigate your airport pat downs?
So you might be wondering "Damm GD! If you've gotten this shit so streamlined why are devoting a whole post to it? We aren't trying to get all philosophical and shit. Get to that other shit your marinating on- I bet that's funny."
The truth as long as I can remember I have craved the presence of God in my life. Crazy right? But not really. I think that's most people, maybe not God per se that you grew up with being forced on you, have a God shaped hole in their heart and are just looking to find the shape of God that fits it.(Good shit right? A course In Miracles- read that shit its awesome)
Now here's the catch, remember pt.I? What's my fatal flaw? That's right- all or nothing. And this is where, every time with every version of God there is(and on the real, I think all religions are a manifestation of one God) I stumble. Fo real yo if I did not have mad control issues I would be the fuckin craziest skid row livin' addict you ever met. Every time, in every instance, I can go right up to the line and the be like "yea no- not today" (Don't hate, its kept me off the Meth that and that shit is ghetto, like huffing paint.)
Alas I digress, I bring up drug use and the word fuck in the context of Jesus(aaand 4) to make this point People that are addicted to God, any God, are fuckin nuts and they scare me. What's more, I could totally be that girl! (okay- so right here I totally wanted to put this clip of Tommy Chong saying "Before I was all messed up on drugs, now I'm all messed up on the Lord' Cause you know my Dad let me Listen to the Up in Smoke LP when I was 9- nostalgia.Couldn't find it. this shits good too)
And there in lies my quandary- crazy for The Lord =not Gangsta. Moreover, its hard to find church with peeps that like to say Fuck. That being said, I'm Catholic and my people do like liquor and swearing. As a matter of fact when I was a stay at home mom (don't laugh, I rocked that shit) I found my church lady group because the leader told us if we forgot to make flower arrangements for Mass we would go to Hell. Total dead pan, she wasn't fuckin around. #Gangsta.
And so peeps normally I would not beg for your commentary on my rantings- but I'm thinking on sabotage and spirituality I may need them. Thinking about this shit is making me so uncomfortable that I know somethings gotta give.
Damn you 1 million self help books Damn you to hell with the ladies that forgot to make flowers.
I didn't link ya'll a ton o' jamz this time cause I fuckin hate Jesus rock. (That's 5 ding-ding-ding we have a winner or a heathen or whatev) But Ima leave you with my Boy Kanye. In just 4 short days we shall be together at ACL where he will gaze out over the pasty, natural fiber clad crowd and lock eyes with me. In that moment, I know he'll choose me cause he can tell your girl is down to ride. That's my Word.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Spirituality, Sabotage, and Some other Shit I've been Marinating On. A reflection in III Parts.
Part I-Sabotage
First of all lets get the Pandora off of Duffy Radio. Melancholy shit. Been a super crazy week for me emotionally, which is scary because you'd think by now I’d be used to that shit. My life is always fuckin crazy emotionally and otherwise. You know how it goes though, a short week always seems long as fuck because it throws off you anal retentive internal clock(Wait, that's just me?) Anyway, here's what the high points look like- we shall delve deeper but its always nice to have an outline. Cause even though my grammar and spelling does at time appear to be for shit, I think it would reassure everyone that tries to choke down this shit out the gate that:
A. I have a point
i. I don't care if you agree
ii. I secretly long for your approval
B. This post may not pertain to you
i. Like my parenting Shit
ii. Are you fucking human with a heart? The shit pertains to you.
C. I'm not stupid just because I curse
i. Fuck You
Monday: Labor Day Celebration w/ the BFF, Mr. Ex Gangsta Divorcee, and the newest member of the GD club; Care-Bear. Strange back and forth text convo with someone I'd written off that left me feeling like I was in an early episode of the fucking great pumpkin.
Tuesday: Anything happen at work? Oh yea- I missed a conference call that I didn't really give a shit about. So yea that’s not new.
Wednesday: Ran Out of Meds for both blood sugar and serotonin (pay attention this will be important later)
Thursday: Still no Meds- left my kick ass "no matter how much I drink its always $3" bar tab for some networking bullshit. Bad Idea
Friday- STILL NO MEDS was hateful to my staff, tussled with the BFF after only 2 glasses of wine and stormed out of a chain restaurant. Picked up the meds on the way home.
So here we are at Saturday and I'm ready to review and make some sense outta all this bullshit. I have the luxury of this thanks to my housekeeper. Spend the money of you can find it ladies. It has changed my life, she does the laundry.
Let's talk sabotage 1st. (watch this shit, this song is boss as hell). I think if you spend more than 2 seconds in therapy the very first thing they want you to learn is that all the fucked things that you do or that seem to just befall you are, for the most part, this manifestation of the many ways in which you sabotage yourself. My therapist and I got heated up about this very type of behavior this week This is my sabotaging behavior: I have zero middle ground. All or Nothing.
My Therapist is suggesting that I may want to try to not be that way.
I am suggesting that she and I have possibly never met. Even though I've been bawling my eyes out for a almost a straight fuckin year on her fuckin couch.
Being this way is innate in me. Would I like to change it? Sure. Can I change it? Nope. Here's the thing that I always find the most ironic about people like me and the people that surround us. When you want some bullshit done, you want someone to call bullshit in a fucking boring ass meeting that has apparently sprung up because we've run out fucking paint to watch dry, or you just want bullshit and party. You got your girl on speed dial. But don't let that shit run afowl of some plans you made that didn’t involve that, cause that ain't gonna work. That's fuckin wack.
So what is the solution? I think you have to learn to work with what is innate in you and to not make apologies for it, but apologize sincerely when what you do hurts someone. Case in point. I huffed out of a fucking Johnny Carrinos in a snit over something that in the moment seemed huge. Subsequently, I realized that the deadly combination of high blood sugar and low serotonin had made me irrational. I called (ok I texted) the BFF, fought with her some more, and eventually offered a sincere apology once the meds had fully set in the next morning. I think that's the way to go. For now I'm gonna stick with it. That being said, please feel free to offer some feedback on alternate solutions. I’ll probably ignore them but I will graciously thank you for the effort, cause I'm a Lady and I have manners and shit.
Get your Holy book out cause were talking the God of your choosing(I promise my shit won't be as PC as that statement when we get after it fo real) in the next post. That's my word.
R
First of all lets get the Pandora off of Duffy Radio. Melancholy shit. Been a super crazy week for me emotionally, which is scary because you'd think by now I’d be used to that shit. My life is always fuckin crazy emotionally and otherwise. You know how it goes though, a short week always seems long as fuck because it throws off you anal retentive internal clock(Wait, that's just me?) Anyway, here's what the high points look like- we shall delve deeper but its always nice to have an outline. Cause even though my grammar and spelling does at time appear to be for shit, I think it would reassure everyone that tries to choke down this shit out the gate that:
A. I have a point
i. I don't care if you agree
ii. I secretly long for your approval
B. This post may not pertain to you
i. Like my parenting Shit
ii. Are you fucking human with a heart? The shit pertains to you.
C. I'm not stupid just because I curse
i. Fuck You
Monday: Labor Day Celebration w/ the BFF, Mr. Ex Gangsta Divorcee, and the newest member of the GD club; Care-Bear. Strange back and forth text convo with someone I'd written off that left me feeling like I was in an early episode of the fucking great pumpkin.
Tuesday: Anything happen at work? Oh yea- I missed a conference call that I didn't really give a shit about. So yea that’s not new.
Wednesday: Ran Out of Meds for both blood sugar and serotonin (pay attention this will be important later)
Thursday: Still no Meds- left my kick ass "no matter how much I drink its always $3" bar tab for some networking bullshit. Bad Idea
Friday- STILL NO MEDS was hateful to my staff, tussled with the BFF after only 2 glasses of wine and stormed out of a chain restaurant. Picked up the meds on the way home.
So here we are at Saturday and I'm ready to review and make some sense outta all this bullshit. I have the luxury of this thanks to my housekeeper. Spend the money of you can find it ladies. It has changed my life, she does the laundry.
Let's talk sabotage 1st. (watch this shit, this song is boss as hell). I think if you spend more than 2 seconds in therapy the very first thing they want you to learn is that all the fucked things that you do or that seem to just befall you are, for the most part, this manifestation of the many ways in which you sabotage yourself. My therapist and I got heated up about this very type of behavior this week This is my sabotaging behavior: I have zero middle ground. All or Nothing.
My Therapist is suggesting that I may want to try to not be that way.
I am suggesting that she and I have possibly never met. Even though I've been bawling my eyes out for a almost a straight fuckin year on her fuckin couch.
Being this way is innate in me. Would I like to change it? Sure. Can I change it? Nope. Here's the thing that I always find the most ironic about people like me and the people that surround us. When you want some bullshit done, you want someone to call bullshit in a fucking boring ass meeting that has apparently sprung up because we've run out fucking paint to watch dry, or you just want bullshit and party. You got your girl on speed dial. But don't let that shit run afowl of some plans you made that didn’t involve that, cause that ain't gonna work. That's fuckin wack.
So what is the solution? I think you have to learn to work with what is innate in you and to not make apologies for it, but apologize sincerely when what you do hurts someone. Case in point. I huffed out of a fucking Johnny Carrinos in a snit over something that in the moment seemed huge. Subsequently, I realized that the deadly combination of high blood sugar and low serotonin had made me irrational. I called (ok I texted) the BFF, fought with her some more, and eventually offered a sincere apology once the meds had fully set in the next morning. I think that's the way to go. For now I'm gonna stick with it. That being said, please feel free to offer some feedback on alternate solutions. I’ll probably ignore them but I will graciously thank you for the effort, cause I'm a Lady and I have manners and shit.
Get your Holy book out cause were talking the God of your choosing(I promise my shit won't be as PC as that statement when we get after it fo real) in the next post. That's my word.
R
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
More MOTY and Shit
I have a basic prayer when it comes to fucking up my child's life and it goes something like the :"Please God, just let her hash out some new problems with her therapist, not this going back generations bordering on being straight institutionalized bullshit I've been sifting through for the last 15 years" Then I make the sign of the cross, cause I'm Catholic and shit. Crazy right? Please reference this entry for a full explanation of that. But fo real- as a parent you cannot not fuck up your kid somehow. That is your right as a parent! And as a divorced parent- Man! Society has hheaped a shit ton of pre-programmed ways that you, by virtue of breathing the air of singlehoodom, have fucked up your kid. Well you know what the response from the moderator is: Fuck that.
You know what I really think about the divorced parents of our generation? I think we've been there and done that. We've already been through a shit ton of divorces. Mostly by our parents and their friends. I assure you we have seen it go wrong in way or the other. And so we gotta get there a different way. So here's what ya # 1 MOTY thinks about being a divorced mom and some new ways you may wanna take a look at it. In true fashion I'll shall bullet point the shit for you slow ass country motherfuckers.
1. Fo real yo, if you have kids that shit is until death till you part.
Look here's the deal(I get that from Dad ,the litigator, any time we're about to drop big knowledge we say that shit) you have a child with that man you claim not to love anymore and you all are still until death do you part. I really believe in this day and age that, no one is getting through life without dealing with a fuckin annoying ass adult. And 9 time out of 10 you married that motherfucker, cause were a nation of masochists. Unless your life is in danger, lets all try to get in the game shall we? Shit don't always work out between adults. That's your fuckiing problem. Not your pre-schoolers. Put your big girl panties on( Sip on the concrete Diana- this and no whiners has shaped me- Love you). Set your bullshit pride aside and be there for your kid. If he's fuckin worthless, your kid will figure that out on their own. You're smart,surely you can teach them to think for themselves. Besides, all your hommies are backing up your point of view. Why the fuck do you need someone who can hardly remember to wipe their ass when they shit to validate your choice? Your job is not to convince anyone else your ex is an asshole(esp his kids). Besides, if he's truly an asshole, in my experience you can just throw your kicks up your desk and watch that shit unfurl, cause it will.
2. Really? Single Mom? Really?
Unless Mr. Ex Gangsta Divorcee drops dead you will never hear me call myself a single mom. I am a single income household. I get ample child support to give my child 99% of the material things she would have should her father and I stayed together. When I think single mom- I think of a woman with little or no support from her ex or in some cases her family. I think widow single mom's have it the worst of all. It may seem all glamorous at 1st cause other women don't hate you and think you want to steal their man that they don't even want. But think about it, they have no one to bounce those big parenting decisions off of or a document that in absences of a mutual agreement tells them how its going down. That's fucked. So divorcee ladies, I urge you to think before you throw yourself a pity party that frankly no one wants to hear about. Cause I only have to be a live and in person parent about 15 days a month. Do I still do a lot of the heavy-lifting-life-path determing -work of child raising? Your Goddam right I do. But that's because I'm a mom and I know best, not because I'm single.
3. Don't Make excuses for compromising on the rules about when he meets your kid(s)
First and foremost ladies, we all do that shit. We got this list and these doctrines about protecting our kids from our single lives. And I think for the most part we stick to them. I honestly don't know one divorced mom that allows her kids to be privy to all her dalliances. But let a motherfucker turn up that gives her an orgasm for the 1st time in 15 yrs, and listens to her talk for hours about crazy shit, and does the fucking dishes and its pretty much a done deal. Ladies, it happens, we will all make this mistake. We will all spend 15 hours a day on tortured divorcee message boards trolling for the one answer to this question that validates our point of view. Wanna hear mine? "Well we were such good friends before we started dating, and he had already been around her in that capacity (like that word? I got it from a therapist) it just seemed strange to go backwards" Good shit right? Feel free to use it. I had every woman I know, married or divorced, nodding their head in agreement with that shit. The truth is I made a mistake. I allowed my daughter to become slightly attached to someone that I loved and when he didn't love me any more, I transferred my pain onto her a little. I tried to make myself believe that he had hurt her as much too. He didn't, but misery loves company. All I'm saying ladies is don't be so hard on yourselves, just do better next time.
Alright peeps! That's enough parenting for tonight- next week get ready cause its all Hip-Hop all the time. ACL in da house and the Budweiser stage is calling a sistas name. And not for their beer, that shit tastes like piss. But their line-up is sick as hell- Nas- Kanye- Big Boi- good shit. Follow me on twitter for sideline reporting @GangstaDivorcee That's My Word.
You know what I really think about the divorced parents of our generation? I think we've been there and done that. We've already been through a shit ton of divorces. Mostly by our parents and their friends. I assure you we have seen it go wrong in way or the other. And so we gotta get there a different way. So here's what ya # 1 MOTY thinks about being a divorced mom and some new ways you may wanna take a look at it. In true fashion I'll shall bullet point the shit for you slow ass country motherfuckers.
1. Fo real yo, if you have kids that shit is until death till you part.
Look here's the deal(I get that from Dad ,the litigator, any time we're about to drop big knowledge we say that shit) you have a child with that man you claim not to love anymore and you all are still until death do you part. I really believe in this day and age that, no one is getting through life without dealing with a fuckin annoying ass adult. And 9 time out of 10 you married that motherfucker, cause were a nation of masochists. Unless your life is in danger, lets all try to get in the game shall we? Shit don't always work out between adults. That's your fuckiing problem. Not your pre-schoolers. Put your big girl panties on( Sip on the concrete Diana- this and no whiners has shaped me- Love you). Set your bullshit pride aside and be there for your kid. If he's fuckin worthless, your kid will figure that out on their own. You're smart,surely you can teach them to think for themselves. Besides, all your hommies are backing up your point of view. Why the fuck do you need someone who can hardly remember to wipe their ass when they shit to validate your choice? Your job is not to convince anyone else your ex is an asshole(esp his kids). Besides, if he's truly an asshole, in my experience you can just throw your kicks up your desk and watch that shit unfurl, cause it will.
2. Really? Single Mom? Really?
Unless Mr. Ex Gangsta Divorcee drops dead you will never hear me call myself a single mom. I am a single income household. I get ample child support to give my child 99% of the material things she would have should her father and I stayed together. When I think single mom- I think of a woman with little or no support from her ex or in some cases her family. I think widow single mom's have it the worst of all. It may seem all glamorous at 1st cause other women don't hate you and think you want to steal their man that they don't even want. But think about it, they have no one to bounce those big parenting decisions off of or a document that in absences of a mutual agreement tells them how its going down. That's fucked. So divorcee ladies, I urge you to think before you throw yourself a pity party that frankly no one wants to hear about. Cause I only have to be a live and in person parent about 15 days a month. Do I still do a lot of the heavy-lifting-life-path determing -work of child raising? Your Goddam right I do. But that's because I'm a mom and I know best, not because I'm single.
3. Don't Make excuses for compromising on the rules about when he meets your kid(s)
First and foremost ladies, we all do that shit. We got this list and these doctrines about protecting our kids from our single lives. And I think for the most part we stick to them. I honestly don't know one divorced mom that allows her kids to be privy to all her dalliances. But let a motherfucker turn up that gives her an orgasm for the 1st time in 15 yrs, and listens to her talk for hours about crazy shit, and does the fucking dishes and its pretty much a done deal. Ladies, it happens, we will all make this mistake. We will all spend 15 hours a day on tortured divorcee message boards trolling for the one answer to this question that validates our point of view. Wanna hear mine? "Well we were such good friends before we started dating, and he had already been around her in that capacity (like that word? I got it from a therapist) it just seemed strange to go backwards" Good shit right? Feel free to use it. I had every woman I know, married or divorced, nodding their head in agreement with that shit. The truth is I made a mistake. I allowed my daughter to become slightly attached to someone that I loved and when he didn't love me any more, I transferred my pain onto her a little. I tried to make myself believe that he had hurt her as much too. He didn't, but misery loves company. All I'm saying ladies is don't be so hard on yourselves, just do better next time.
Alright peeps! That's enough parenting for tonight- next week get ready cause its all Hip-Hop all the time. ACL in da house and the Budweiser stage is calling a sistas name. And not for their beer, that shit tastes like piss. But their line-up is sick as hell- Nas- Kanye- Big Boi- good shit. Follow me on twitter for sideline reporting @GangstaDivorcee That's My Word.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Mother of the Year up in this Motherfucker
So I'm thinking I'm done talking Mars and Venus for awhile.
Let's move on to my parenting series shall we? Some of you may scoff. Parenting Gangsta? Please, how can changing diapers and miserable playdates where you swap crockpot recipes and organic snack ideas be Gangsta? You motherfuckers ain't got no kids. Parenting is some hardcore, Tipper Gore gonna put a warning label on it, shit (Big up Tipper- welcome to the GD club- respect). And! Before I proceed let me state that I shall only be discussing my parenting style and that I, frankly, have no interest in yours. Cause we all know if we been around the block even one time, trying to work off the flab that little oxygen thief burdened us with at the exact moment our metabolism slowed down , pushing a $400 3000lb stroller, there is nothing other people love more than to tell you how to raise your kid. So let me just pile on. #youaintready.
Out the gate, let's be clear ya girl is coming old school. I spent a lot of my formative years with my grandparents because my parents were two of the biggest dumb asses that not only thought 16 would be a good time to have a baby they also that marriage might be fun too. In addition to all of that my mother and father are two of the hardest working, intelligent and funny people I know. They have mad college degrees, but to get those that needed a lot of help from theirr parents. So you better believe that the second I think I might be inconvenienced by the spawn, I'm calling their asses up and reminding them of that shit. Don't get it twisted, I ain't bitter (much love to 25 therapists I've cycled through since my early 20s for that). Nothing makes you a gangsta like cutting your own switch from a peach tree so that your Granny can whoop your ass. Or spend an entire weekend shelling black eyed peas and snapping green beans to "put food up for the winter" like your all up the great depression and there's not a fucking grocery store like 5 blocks away. My Gran was also big on that children should be seen and not heard, (how do ya'll think that last one really turned out? Yea, it ain't goin' so well w/ mini-me either).
I relate all of this to back the following assertion: kids these days are kinda assholes, because parents these days are kind of assholes.
My grandparents had like zero interest in being my friend- they had some shit I needed to learn and they were teaching it regardless of my emotional needs. In their lifetime your children will have a shit ton of friends- half of which will annoy the fuck out of you or you will disapprove of. But o fuckin well, they're not your friends. I have this theory (and remind me to get back w/ ya'll about this in 20 yrs) that if you do the hard thing now and are a parent instead of a friend, when they are adults you will have the amazing friendship with them that you want. Now! Lemme just say this for those of you not Gangsta enough to have gotten divorced yet; in the interest of keeping it real, I only gotta put this shit into practice 15 days a month, so that makes it easier. (I see that twinkle in your eye girl- this divorce shit is lookin better and better) You'd think Mr. Gangsta Divorcee could manage that shit too.
If you don't want you kid to talk like an idiot, don't to them like an idiot. I must say I owe this one to my parents. When I was 6 years old my crazy ass father decided that now was a perfect time to introduce me to transcendentalism by suggesting that we could all just be a dream in someones mind. Good job motherfucker, that's the perfect thing to tell a 6 yr old. However, as I reflect on it now he was really giving me gift that was, in fact, twofold. #1 It gave me hope that someone would wake from the nightmare that was one of his many wives and #2 when I'm not being all all Gangsta, I'm articulate as a motherfucker. I can carry on a conversation that is knowledgeable and confident and contains multiple words with more than 3 syllables. I cannot however spell.
These are just a few of the parenting tips, tricks and suggestions I will be gracing ya'll with in the coming weeks. Because at the end the day Whitney Houston said it best. Ha! Ha! No not that- Gotcha! This! That's My Word. R
Let's move on to my parenting series shall we? Some of you may scoff. Parenting Gangsta? Please, how can changing diapers and miserable playdates where you swap crockpot recipes and organic snack ideas be Gangsta? You motherfuckers ain't got no kids. Parenting is some hardcore, Tipper Gore gonna put a warning label on it, shit (Big up Tipper- welcome to the GD club- respect). And! Before I proceed let me state that I shall only be discussing my parenting style and that I, frankly, have no interest in yours. Cause we all know if we been around the block even one time, trying to work off the flab that little oxygen thief burdened us with at the exact moment our metabolism slowed down , pushing a $400 3000lb stroller, there is nothing other people love more than to tell you how to raise your kid. So let me just pile on. #youaintready.
Out the gate, let's be clear ya girl is coming old school. I spent a lot of my formative years with my grandparents because my parents were two of the biggest dumb asses that not only thought 16 would be a good time to have a baby they also that marriage might be fun too. In addition to all of that my mother and father are two of the hardest working, intelligent and funny people I know. They have mad college degrees, but to get those that needed a lot of help from theirr parents. So you better believe that the second I think I might be inconvenienced by the spawn, I'm calling their asses up and reminding them of that shit. Don't get it twisted, I ain't bitter (much love to 25 therapists I've cycled through since my early 20s for that). Nothing makes you a gangsta like cutting your own switch from a peach tree so that your Granny can whoop your ass. Or spend an entire weekend shelling black eyed peas and snapping green beans to "put food up for the winter" like your all up the great depression and there's not a fucking grocery store like 5 blocks away. My Gran was also big on that children should be seen and not heard, (how do ya'll think that last one really turned out? Yea, it ain't goin' so well w/ mini-me either).
I relate all of this to back the following assertion: kids these days are kinda assholes, because parents these days are kind of assholes.
My grandparents had like zero interest in being my friend- they had some shit I needed to learn and they were teaching it regardless of my emotional needs. In their lifetime your children will have a shit ton of friends- half of which will annoy the fuck out of you or you will disapprove of. But o fuckin well, they're not your friends. I have this theory (and remind me to get back w/ ya'll about this in 20 yrs) that if you do the hard thing now and are a parent instead of a friend, when they are adults you will have the amazing friendship with them that you want. Now! Lemme just say this for those of you not Gangsta enough to have gotten divorced yet; in the interest of keeping it real, I only gotta put this shit into practice 15 days a month, so that makes it easier. (I see that twinkle in your eye girl- this divorce shit is lookin better and better) You'd think Mr. Gangsta Divorcee could manage that shit too.
If you don't want you kid to talk like an idiot, don't to them like an idiot. I must say I owe this one to my parents. When I was 6 years old my crazy ass father decided that now was a perfect time to introduce me to transcendentalism by suggesting that we could all just be a dream in someones mind. Good job motherfucker, that's the perfect thing to tell a 6 yr old. However, as I reflect on it now he was really giving me gift that was, in fact, twofold. #1 It gave me hope that someone would wake from the nightmare that was one of his many wives and #2 when I'm not being all all Gangsta, I'm articulate as a motherfucker. I can carry on a conversation that is knowledgeable and confident and contains multiple words with more than 3 syllables. I cannot however spell.
These are just a few of the parenting tips, tricks and suggestions I will be gracing ya'll with in the coming weeks. Because at the end the day Whitney Houston said it best. Ha! Ha! No not that- Gotcha! This! That's My Word. R
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