I Wish I Could Be Every Little Thing You Wanted All The Time

Last night Z nearly broke my heart.

I was washing her hair, which could be considered a full time job, although we do it on average once a week if I’ve had enough coffee and sleep, when she made the comment that she doesn’t like her hair and wished it was like all her friends hair, which is in her words ‘smooth’.

Z has the most fantastic Afro, which I’ll admit at first I didn’t at first know the first thing about dealing with for obvious reasons, the main being I never had hair like that so why bother learning right? But over the years as her hair grew I realized it was getting more curly and thick and I would need more insight on how to care for her crowning glory to do it full justice, I started researching what the better quality products would be to use. I learned all about a wash n go and wet plopping and deep conditioning which to be honest were all very helpful for my hair as well since I also have curly hair, although not to the extent of Z’s 3c/4a curls. I learned not to use drug store brands that contain sulphates and other harmful chemicals that will further dry her hair out. I learned how to trim her hair myself to maintain it and get rid of dry, split ends on my own without spending a fortune on a hairdresser. I will admit though that I still cannot plait her hair, but I have learned twist outs and how to lay her edges so I’ll just take that as a win for now. One step at a time. 🤷🏻‍♀️

But when she was upset last night because her hair wasn’t ‘smooth’ like all her friends at school my heart fell into my gut. I can only be so much of a roll model for her in this area. I wear my hair as big, full and curly as possible, because I honestly feel the bigger the better, and I truly think natural hair is better. I’ve straightened my hair maybe once a year since finding out all this information about hair for Z. Little E wears his hair pretty close cut because he just has no interest in keeping a style and prefers it practically shaved, and even when he does grow it out, it’s not as curly as Z’s, it’s more of a thick bigger curl. Her dad maintains a bald head although they don’t see him often (as my regular readers know 3 visits when we went back at Christmas and before that it was February last year). So I guess my point with all these “examples ” is that she has no natural hair role models as far as her hair texture. I’ve shown her on places like instagram woman with beautiful hair like hers and how they wear it even bigger than hers. For reference, her fro averages between 6-10 inches but I don’t fluff it out on the bigger side often. She prefers to style it pushed back with a headband or with a few clips or two pigtail afropuffs. Which is for the best because those are the only ones I can pull off half decently.

Anyways this is a very roundabout way of saying I hurt for her. I want her to be proud of every part of her, but this is a way I can’t directly be a role model for her. Yes, I can wear my hair naturally and I do, but her hair is distinctively different, not only from mine, but from the streets of Kelowna and even where we were before and heck even in a Kenya because of the mix, and others notice. I think it’s fantastic and beautiful and many others do as well. We constantly receive compliments while out about how nice her hair is of which I reminded her last night. I told her that her hair is original and beautiful and she should never want to change who or how she is. I was detangling it and showed her how long it was while wet and stretched out and she was so impressed, since it reaches to her elbows. So after the bath, I did one long braid for her down her back and she was much happier and kept mentioning how long and smooth it looked. Albeit it only lasted about 15 minutes until it was completely dry and shrunk up to her neck but it made her happy in that moment.

I’m just wondering how to move forward from here. I’m WELL aware that my kids should have strong black role models in their life, but if there aren’t any around… I can’t just produce them out of thin air.

My in laws are not an option, her dad is out of the question. The black community in Kelowna is to be honest practically nonexistent (trust me, I’ve looked). But I know that it will be something they need to become the fullest version of themselves they can be.

I guess that’s the most frustrating aspect of this experience. Knowing I can be the best mom I can possibly be. I can make all the healthy lunches and arrange all the play dates and study up on all the hair care and do all the sex talks, to name a few examples, but facts are facts, and facts in my situation is that my kids are half black, there’s no denying that, and I would never want to. And that culture is not something I can provide them, and they desperately need it.

It makes me feel so inadequate.

Knowing no matter what, I’ll never be enough. And I can’t do it on my own.

And what’s worse it that the right people are not offering to help.

***update***

Just stopped at Walmart and saw this ironic and timely display showing Robert Munschs books on display

All had been picked through except the braids book (which Z owns). It’s a book about a girl with hair like Z’s and how she doesn’t like to have it braided since it takes a while and hurts. Etc. But anyways it’s literally just shows how no one in Kelowna has that culture in their life nor is trying to pass it on to future generations here and I’m on my own with my kids. 😑

*Z with morning bed head for reference*


-Dishwalla / Every Little Thing –

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I Guess There’s Certain Dreams That You Gotta Keep ‘Cause They Only Know What You Let ‘Em See / They Don’t Care Like I Do Nowhere Like I Do

Google can suck my non-existent dick after they’ve shoved it up their ass.

How’s that for sexual content?

A little while ago I monetized my site with Google Adsense. I figured it’s here, you’re here, Google ad’s are there. Why not connect them all on my site for an opportunity to make a few extra dollars a month? Logical right.

So I spent pretty much a whole Saturday afternoon trying to figure out how to change the coding here on my wordpress site to allow the ads to display semi-decently, something I’m sure would’ve taken someone with experience 3 minutes. But I’m not experienced so I struggled with it and after a few hours persevered.  Then I waited while Google took over a week to approve my site (meanwhile it says it will take only a day or so to do it). I finally emailed once to see what was up, and magically it was approved later that Friday go figure. I watched over that first weekend as nothing happened on Friday, no change on Saturday, but when I woke up on Sunday to check my stats, I saw the most beautiful thing.

You my readers throughout the world had viewed ads enough times to earn me $2.94.

And I cried. Honest to goodness tears of joy. Not even three dollars but it was the most valuable 3 dollars I had ever earned.

I set this site up almost 2 years ago. On a computer that I bought with my own money. I created the name and content with my own brilliance and suffering. The blogs are FILLED with my own spelling and grammar errors, but more importantly my life. I have NO BOSS in this endeavor. It wasn’t a job that paid me. It was my outlet and in some cases my savior.  This brought me joy and relief and satisfaction because it was all mine from start to $2.94 finish. And now, in that $2.94 I saw potential for freedom from much more.

Then a few days after I got an email  from Google stating they would not be allowing ad’s on my site until I complied with their terms. The item in question? Sexual content. The post they were referring to? My sex talk with Little E.

Seriously Google?

You think an educational talk that a mother is sharing with her child is dangerous and offensive sexual content?

I FIND THAT OFFENSIVE!!!

That you think you can sensor me and my parenting. Was I sharing pornographic videos to my child to teach him about the birds and the bees? NO. Did I link those videos here? Even more no! So, for you (Google) to yank my ads and therefore my money making abilities here, because I choose to be a good involved parent, is so much of what’s wrong with the world. You want children to be ignorant? You want parents to be afraid of speaking about these things to their own offspring? Well that’s not me.

I will not pull my post for you. I will not amend it in any way to bend to your sexual content codes. I will continue to teach my son and soon my daughter when she’s old enough (so you can expect another raunchy extreme x-rated sex filled according to Google post then) because I am a good parent, and my kids will be advised, aware, conscious, caring, loving SEXUAL humans.

So keep your money Google.

It wasn’t as valuable as my children’s lives anyways.


-Khalid Ft. Kane Brown/Saturday Nights-

Don’t Believe The Lies They Feed You

Oh Kay.

So as I’m sure some of you in the western hemisphere have heard if you keep up on stupid random celebrity gossip, Ellen Page (of Juno fame, and maybe some other stuff not too sure, but that’s just my favorite movie of her’s and probably up on my top 20 favorite movie list of all time so check it out of you haven’t already) made a twitter comment about how Chris Pratt attends a church that “is infamously anti lgbtq.” Her exact words.

Now as far as I’m aware (not that I did much research, but let’s be honest), Ellen didn’t make any effort to attend Chris’s church and get booted to the curb. Nor did she call them and ask for a detailed list of their rules and how the attendees choose to live their lives etc. She just felt for some reason, that Chris at this time, deserved a kick to the balls regarding how he chooses to live his life and the choices he makes with his faith and how he spends his Sunday.

Chris hadn’t mocked or spit upon Ellen in particular or the LGBTQ community stating the church made him do it or something like that which would draw the ire of Ellens tweet. He never had an issue with how they choose to live their lives.

Is the fact true? That his church does not promote that lifestyle? Yes. But does that mean they go about bashing it as Ellen has chosen to do to Chris? No.

They make their own choice to gather and celebrate weekly/whenever they decide and enjoy same thought patterns as other like-minded individuals in a community setting. The LGBTQ community? Does very much the same. Gay/lesbian bars, pride parades etc. If both communities could continue to gather with like minded people in places that they have deemed bring them joy, I don’t see the need for people like Ellen to have to instigate an argument. Yes I know this unfortunately happens on a much larger scale much to often, but I’m using this celebrity example because, well more people know about it so it’s more relatable.

There will never be a world where everyone feels/thinks/sees things the exact same way as you. But in a circumstance where a group of individuals is living with their choices peacefully and is not forcing that thought on others, can’t we just leave them well enough alone? They are not forcing Ellen to come to church every week. They are not forcing her to  get baptized. In the past have churches over stepped their boundaries? Of course. But for Ellen to possibly take those memories and project them on this situation has caused her to be the instigator. And this can work vice versa. The LGTBQ community is not suggesting everyone “become” LGTBQ, forcing them into unwanted sexual acts or something ridiculous.

Everyone has made their OWN choices. They don’t need to be justified or explained to others. If we continue to allow that, we will only perpetuate the cycle of hate that will never stop.

We must allow each individual to have their own thoughts and choices, while at the same time understanding that when the expression of your will has overcrowded on another persons chance to be who they want to be, you have become a hindrance to their destiny.

So ask yourself, is that something you want on your conscience?

And even more important than that, are the choices you’re making, the ones you deep down want to make? Or have you already in some way been influenced to present something else to the world? It’s never to late to express what YOU want to show the world. Not what you’ve been told to show.


-Bazzi/Beautiful-

I Was Wondering Maybe Could I Make You My Baby If We Do The Unthinkable Would It Make Us Look Crazy If You Ask Me I’m Ready

Oooooooh man. So it’s a holiday in my city today. Which in and of itself is good. Also happening today? Another house showing. Also a good thing right? Until I realized I had to be outta the house between 6:30-7:30 at night.

Seriously anytime my routine gets disturbed I’m flexible, yes. But not exactly happy lol. Especially when I arrived at the indoor playground to occupy my kids for a couple of hours and it’s PACKED in here because of the holiday.

There are so many things frustrating about it, but off the top of my head is how grammatically incorrect people are speaking. I’ll get to the point if my post in a minute but I can’t concentrate because all I can hear are all the parents around me, screaming at their children in sentences that would have any grade school teacher cringing. And it’s like no wonder kids nowadays barely speak proper English… they just repeat exactly what they’ve been taught, or not been taught in this case. It’s times like this I’m actually thankful my mom corrected every little error I made while speaking. It was theeeee most annoying thing at the time, but its made me thankful in times like now. Trust me. I’m well aware I’m far from speaking/writing perfectly, but I’m pretty sure I’m leaps and bounds above the majority of the people in here by the sounds of it.

Anyhoo. The reason I started this whole post today, was because as I was tidying up my house for the showing, a thought crossed my mind. As it has each time I’ve had other people in my house who don’t know me.

All these people will see, are the “artifacts” that represent our life now. And that’s it. They will see photos of my mixed race kids, which I have tastefully displayed around my house. They will also see evidence of only one parent. A mom. There is no trace of a man in my house at all. No shoes in the closet or coats in the door. No sports memorabilia. Not even a second adult toothbrush in the bathroom.

All that they’ll see are the items that belong to my kids, and I. No father. Which unfortunately because of so many stigmas, worries me that it will lead to one and only one impression in their minds, whether intentional or not. And that is, that this is the house of yet another single mom. Who probably got pregnant by some short-lived relationship where the dad didn’t want anything to do with the kid, or just pays his dues and moved on. Maybe takes the kids on weekends, but obviously by the lack of an imprint he has in their life, hasn’t stuck around.

And that bothers me.

Not because that’s not our story.

Not because that story does belong to so many others.

Not because I don’t wanna be judged as some gold digging hussy.

Not because I care how others judge me.

But because of the fact that I MYSELF THOUGHT IT. And if I thought it, who’s to say a stranger walking through my house won’t. Even just in passing. And even that itself shows what my kids will be subjected to throughout their life.

Because of my life decisions, my children will be lumped in with all the other kids in similar situations and judged the same, no matter if their history is different or not.

Society doesn’t give two shits about what happened between their dad and I, or how hard I tried even though I knew it wasn’t worth it to make my marriage work, and should’ve given up long before I did. They just see the results. The here and now. The leftovers. Which is another single mom with two kids whose black dad is not around.

And I hate it.

No one ever wants to be a part of a statistic, it’s never planned this way, but it’s even more depressing when it’s not one you believe in. I think black men have too many labels put on them in error in the first place. And I hate that my life contributes to that. Did my marriage fail? Yes. But does that mean every/any relationship with a black man will be unsuccessful? Absolutely not.

I still wholeheartedly trust them on the whole and have seen first hand MANY successful, thriving, long-term couples in mixed race, relationships, as well as white couples, black couples, and everything in between. People aren’t perfect. Relationships work because PEOPLE make them work.

No, we are not perfect. Yes, it can be more difficult to be in a relationship with someone from a different background than you, but I think that is exactly for the reasons I just mentioned above.

Stigma.

Society has grown to expect ‘certain things’ from ‘certain people’. Why? For what? Are we not all humans? Who made these decisions that certain races had to behave certain ways? And why?

I think love should just be love. And on the same hand, divorce should just be divorce. My marriage did not fall apart because of race. In fact that played no part in my decision, and never would (not that I hope to ever make a decision on divorce again). It was based on everything else that took place within the marriage because of us as people and our individual behaviors.

Therefore, in my ever so humble opinion, people, including myself, should just learn to take their opinions and shove ’em where the sun don’t shine.

Because let’s be honest. Those opinions are probably based on a stigma that should be eradicated anyway.

Also, wish me luck on the showing. They are repeat viewers so that’s a good sign 🤞🏼.


-Alicia Keys/Unthinkable-

Pardon Me Your Epidermis Is Showing Sir I Couldn’t Help But Note You’re Shade Of Melanin

Ok… So feel free to keep reading. In fact I would encourage you to, but I will warn you now that this post will most likely offend some. But, we all know by now that won’t stop me from writing it.

These last few days, this whole race issue has been heavy on my mind. Between cutting out my own family members and dealing with fall out from that, as well as realizing people’s true stance on the issues that have been arising, it just feels like it’s definitely been at the forefront of every waking moment since the weekend.

So I’m going to lay it out here, because this morning, my boss made a comment, that I had to ignore in the moment, and to be honest at the time it didn’t seem like a big deal and I’m sure we’ve all heard similar statements and brushed them off as well. But as the day has worn on, it’s been bugging me.

My co-worker was basically just making conversation and made a comment about what was going on in the States (Charlottesville etc.) and my boss was basically like “yeah… whatever” and kinda shut down the conversation before it could even begin.

Now as I’ve been thinking about it, I’ve realized it’s that exact action, the action of in-action, is the definition of white privilege. By “avoiding politics” or wanting to just stay out of it, because in your “perfect” world it doesn’t affect you, that is privilege in action.

You are proving to the world that by being a white, well off man, you have nothing to worry about, and therefore you can just brush aside the worries or concerns that the rest of the world is facing. You don’t have the fear that your race, gender, religion, beliefs or any of that will lead to anything of consequence for you.

You don’t live in fear of bigotry, deportation, segregation, or random police checks that could end in beatings/murder. You’ve never had to fight for your life. You didn’t struggle to find a job with people judging you on your melanin, or where you were born, or your hairstyle for that matter, let alone a solid well-paying career.

You think that by staying out of it, you are fine, and will not be affected, and that is 100% true. Your life will not change one bit, by you ignoring the struggles of others. You will not know the pain of walking down the street and being called names based on your skin colour. Your days will continue on as they always have, easy breezy lemon squeezy. That is white privilege.

And I get it. I totally obviously do. Maybe not to the extent of my boss being that he’s male, but I’m a white woman living in a fairly white society, and I have a good paying job and a house and a car and life is good for me. But I have also been on the other side of things.

I was a white woman in Kenya.

I was lower than low. I was a woman, which is difficult enough even for Kenyan women, and I was white. I was a Muzungu. I walked down the street and had that insult hurled in my face on the daily, among MANY others.  It’s the equivalent of being called a N****r here in North America but for whites. Not everyone appreciated me being there. They thought I was there to steal their jobs and their money and whatever else goes through a racists head. I had to walk with E or my farm boy or a crown of neighbors when I went to town for my own safety.

So when I talk about white privilege, yes, I get it. I have it. I am privileged here in Canada. But I am actively choosing not to be blinded by it. I know from personal experience how it feels to be judged by my skin color, and nothing else.Those people in Kenya didn’t know anything about me other than the fact I was white, and still assumed I was a horrible individual based on that fact alone. And since then, remembering how I felt, the feeling of being unsafe, or almost in constant fear, I have consciously made a decision to never judge anyone based on skin color, tone, hair, or where they were born etc.

I will however form my opinion of you based on how you treat myself and other humans around you.

So yes, I understand “politics” can get annoying, or draining and you don’t want to talk about it sometimes, but that’s what privilege does. Makes you think you are safe and secure in your own little bubble. Allowing you to feel it unnecessary to join in with these situations.

But I’m saying maybe step out of your bubble for a second and stand back to take a look at the actual shit going on in the world. Not to fan the flame and spread hate and oppression, but to support the people who need it. Especially if you are in a position to do so.


-DC Talk/Coloured People-