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
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