I Know You’re Built To Love, But Broken Now, So Just Try, Yeah I know You’re Chokin’ On Your Fears

So never in my wildest dreams did I expect this to happen. We went to get the mail yesterday and there were a few small packages in it, one for each of the kids and myself. From E. Not gonna lie at first I was like wtf? For a quick instant I was like is it something dangerous? What could it possibly be? Why after all these years, over 6 to be exact, would my ex be mailing something to his kids for the first time ever? So I sat in the front of my car and opened the Little E’s package first before handing it over just in case it was something that was better off handled by me. Is that a federal offence? I’m not 100% sure, but as a mother I’m sure you’d do it to if your ex sent your kids a small package in the mail for the first time ever after being apart for 6 years. I wanted to make sure it was something that would be good for Little E. Not harmful.

Surprise of my year when I looked in a saw a book and a card! I peeked in the card an saw the start of a nice note written to Little E. I opened Z’s package and saw something similar so I handed the packages back to the kids and told them they were from their dad.

I asked them to wait to open them and we called E so he could see their reactions as they opened the small gifts. I figured he had done this small thing for his kids he should at least be able to enjoy it. He picked up as I was pretty sure he would as I know he’s not working and doesn’t leave the house often due to his mental health issues, and watched the kids open their gifts.

I had to read the cards to the kids for them since he had written in cursive, and I will admit he did a really good job. Never in over the dozen years of knowing E has he written me a card, and now these heartfelt cards had words like I’m proud of you and you’re growing into a smart young woman etc. They weren’t just left at the writings that the cards had preprinted inside. It was really nice to see.

Then I opened my envelope and there, for the first time was an ugly ass purple card for Mother’s Day. The first one I’ve ever gotten from the father of my kids. Saying thank you for being a good mom.

And I was speechless. I teared up. Because I have to admit this week I felt like calling E and bitching at him to say I’ve been raising these kids on my own for the last 6 years without so much as a thank you, but I restrained myself One, because I’ve never done that before so why start now, and two because I’ve been really trying hard to control what kind of energy I put into the world, and also because I know he struggles with the reality of other people’s life’s at he is dealing with so much in his own mind. So I didn’t want to put that on him. So I didn’t call.

But when that card came in the mail I felt guilty for putting those thoughts out there. Yes, I needed him to acknowledge that I’ve been doing a great job and that I’ve been doing it alone. But I also need to keep my own mind in check of how I think of other people.

So I just wanted to share that my kids received the first ever gifts from their dad this week. Ones that I didn’t shop for on his behalf, and kind heartfelt written cards that they’ll treasure for a long time. And maybe it doesn’t seem that important to you, because your family is great and your dad does that stuff for you all the time, but just know I’ve been praying for this for a long time. And it’s beautiful to see it happen. And to see my kids hold those books, and get something I couldn’t give them no matter how hard I tried.

Was heart breaking and wonderful at the same time.

-Be Kind/Halsey and Marshmello-

I Got Boy Problems That’s The Human In Me / Don’t Text Me, Tell It Straight To My Face

Yesterday out of the blue E sent a text to see how the kids are and to ask me to say hi to them. They haven’t really talked much in months, and the last time they saw him was at Christmas.

By now, I thought I was over E. and as far as our relationship goes, I am. But when I got that text, I was bothered. And I was even more annoyed at myself by the fact that I was bothered by him. Maybe it was the wording of his text, and maybe it was just my mood even before I received it, but it irked me. Basically My reply was a curt, the kids are good.

Because they are always good. I make sure of that. Because I’m here every day raising them. I don’t check in every 6 months to see how they are. I’m their mother 24/7/365. And so I was frustrated. But in the sake of good parenting, I did pass the message along to the kids and asked if they’d like to either call or message back. Little E opted for the text, and wrote out a little message about what he’s been up to lately and hit send. Then Z dictated to Little E a note for him to type. And that’s when my annoyance built up enough for me to vent here.

Her note was as innocent as any 5 year old who’s going about messaging their father could be. Hi Daddy. I love you. Etc…

I could’ve stabbed E with all the anger I felt in that moment. Here I’ve been, for the last 5 and a half years, taking care of these kids without him, and in one text, he swoops in and receives the same type of gratitude I get on a daily basis. No I’m not frustrated at Z, in all her innocence she’s just acting out how she’s seen other kids be with their dads. And she assumes you say I love you. And that’s not wrong, but in those circumstances there’s years of trust built up. There’s time put in. There’s sleepless nights attached. There’s financial stress involved. There’s fear of loss attached. All the aspects to create what I think deserves at least the start of love.

But she gives it with wreak less abandonment to a man who doesn’t understand the pain he’s caused.

I’m not upset at Z. On one hand I think it’s brave of Z to support E with love that cannot be returned and want to let her make her own choices. But on the other hand I want to caution her on attempting to set sail on a sinking ship. I don’t want to set her on a path where she feels her love is unreturned and therefore somehow not good enough.

For now though, I’m just going to take a day of two to cool off my irrational anger towards E for receiving what in my opinion is undeserving love and I’ll come back to this at a later time.

– Lizzo / Truth Hurts –

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 –

Why Do I Give Valuable Time To People Who Don’t Care If I Live Or Die / In My Life Why Do I Smile At People Who I’d Much Rather Kick In The Eye?

Frustrated. I guess that would be the only way to suitably and simply describe how I’m feeling now.

I’m stuck when it comes to my divorce. I feel any move I attempt to make will only be detrimental to my case and I hate that feeling.

Last you heard, I had contacted my lawyer and he sent an email saying something along the lines of us being very close to completion, but I just had to update my Legal Aid file. But when I contacted Legal Aid, they informed my that there was in fact nothing wrong with my file, but while they had me on the phone, they decided to do an update on my file.

I knew that would only turn out bad for myself since I know I make more than the limit now allowed for coverage by them. Turns out I was right. The lady on the phone said they would contact my lawyer, informing him of the situation. If the case was near completion (which it technically was, as mentioned by my lawyer, but knowing E it could still take years) then they would allow him to finish it off under my files current ticket with the subsidized coverage. If my lawyer felt it still had a lot longer to go, then he would have to wrap up whatever had been done thus far, and I could choose to either proceed with him, at full cost, or find a new lawyer, again paying full price.

Fast forward to today… and I still haven’t heard from ANYONE. So I feel like if I make a move and reach out to anyone, it might shine light on circumstances that might be better left hidden ie how much I make. Maybe my lawyer is wrapping things up and we are almost done like his previous email said, although that was like Christmas time-ish if I’m not mistaken so I’m doubtful that’s the case.

Agh, I just hate my divorce being basically controlled by others who realllllly don’t give a fuck. No-one cares that I’ve been dealing with this shit for FOUR GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKEN DRAWN OUT MESSED UP ANNOYING AS ALL HELL YEARS.

Four years. I could’ve gotten a University degree. Shit I could’ve been over halfway to becoming my own Lawyer at this point. At least then I would’ve known that without a doubt my legal counsel had my best interests in mind at all times. But nope. I’m sitting here feeling like my hands are tied. My lawyer doesn’t care, and E is just playing his continuous games.

If I had wanted to remain married for 8.5 years, I would’ve just stayed with E in Kenya.

I don’t.

I didn’t

I want to be divorced from that man.

Now.

And forever.

I’m not waiting for death to part us.

-The Smiths/Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now-

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-