Why’d You Have To Wait? Where Were You? Just A Little Late You Found Me Why’d You Have To Wait To Find Me?

I’ve come to the understanding within myself that I’m not where I’d like to be in my life. Which, on it’s own is not that big a deal you’d think right? Just go out and change, or get what you want etc. and you’d be all good C right? Except that where I want to be is out of my own reach.

After I wrote my last blog, I truly realized how much I wanted another baby. For some reason I didn’t think it was that big of a deal before, but after I let it out, like put it from my mind out to the world, it made it so real… too real.

All I ever wanted to be was a family. A wife and a mother in a perfect little family. I didn’t realize it was such a deep truth for me until I’ve come to see how much of a failure I’ve become in this area.

I wanted a simple wedding with a first dance. Maybe a honeymoon if I was lucky. I wanted cute little kids, to grow up with two parents who love them, and each other. I wanted to cook dinner for my family while my husband helps the kids with homework, or shoots hoops in the backyard. I wanted to go for family walks after supper while my man and I hold hands and the kids run off ahead. I wanted to see my husband change a diaper just once, or rub my pregnant stomach and maybe sing to our unborn baby. I wanted to have fun looking at houses together or possibly picking out then putting furniture together for our place.

I even wanted to do my mans laundry, because folding clothes is my favorite. And as I fold his clothes I can make note of which items are wearing out and needing replacement. I wanted to nurse a baby in the middle of the night that my husband carried to me because it was “his turn”.

I wanted all these things and more, but I experienced none except the cute kids part. And the thing that chokes me up the most, is that I can’t change it. I can’t make a man appear, let alone love me and choose me. I can’t make another baby happen on my own… well technically with IVF, I could but that won’t change the course of my single mom life.

Sure I can make dinner for my kids. I can fold their laundry. I can take them for walks. I can do all these things mentioned… but I have to do them alone. And trust me. Four years of experience tells me it’s not the feeling I’ve been looking for.

Imagining holding someone’s hand… not the same as feeling it. Imagining laying in bed with someone else? Not the same as feeling their warmth and hearing their breath. Cooking for two kids? Not the same as making a real hearty meal for a man.

So I’ve just realized that I’m not where I had hoped to be, and frustrated that I cannot do a damn thing to change it on my own.

So instead, I’ll just have to keep plodding ahead as I am. Attempting to be the best mom I can, to the two kids I do have. Because they only have one parent in the picture which means I have to be doubly good…. maybe even more so because my efforts so far haven’t been top notch.


-The Fray/You Found Me-

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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-

I Never Lose Nothing But Damn I Done Had It I Ain’t Never Strike Out They Can’t Average What I Batted No

So thanks to E constantly delaying the divorce, today is officially my eight year wedding anniversary. And I’ve spent 3.5 of those years trying to put E in my past. It’s a work in progress.

August 7th, 2009. The seventh day, of the eighth month, of the ninth year. E didn’t care when we got married but to me it was important and plus it looked aesthetically pleasing on the invitation. 07.08.09.

But now, 8 years later and it’s all a moot point. 8 years of life with him that, to be fair is almost done. The divorce papers (like I’m sure I’ve said before, and will probably say again) are almost signed. We’re just waiting on E and hopefully he doesn’t find something else to comment on and ask to change last-minute again.
But that’s not the reason I’m writing today.

When I woke up this morning, on my ‘anniversary’ I found myself reflecting back at my life not so much during the past eight years, but more just the past 1 year, and at how much has changed, and I just wanted to do a recap. Mostly for myself. To remind myself, that yeah C, you continue to make shitty mistakes but you also are growing as an individual. And that’s what’s important.
So, without further ado, here’s my year in review.

  • I bought and moved into my very own house with only my name on the mortgage.
  • I quit a high stress job for an equal paying position but I work only 4 days a week now, receive bonuses and my boss is way cooler.
  • I tried marijuana for the first time this year and now take edibles almost daily. They’ve helped so much with the headaches I used to get from my seizures.
  • I got my empty birdcage tattoo to represent that there are no bars holding me back anymore as well as replaced two piercings (one on my wrist and one on my ankle) I had to remove a long time ago for an MRI..
  • I went to a shooting range and shot a gun for the first time, doing quite well at it.
  • I bought tickets for my first couple of concerts. Jay Z in December, and also I’m taking my Dad to see Guns and Roses this month for his birthday… to be honest I’m actually most excited to see Our Lady Peace who’s opening for them lol, they were the first CD I ever bought and Innocent is my jam!
  • Had my Grandma pass away.
  • Stopped attending church to take some time and figure out what I truly believe.
  • Went to a psychic for the first time for a palm reading and chakra clearing.
  • Started my first official diet (Jenny Craig), that I chose to do on my own not because my mom was pressuring me to. And have lost 15 pounds on it so far (about 1.5 months).
  • Heck I even went on a couple of firsts ‘dates’! Lame ones but I got out there.
  • Bought a guitar (I owned 2 as a teen but I sold one and the other was stolen when E and I had our house broken into) yesterday. I realized if music is my passion, and I love it so much, then do something about it again. Make a way to enjoy it more in my everyday life.
  • Started this blog 😎.

So maybe I am growing as a person. Maybe I have learned from some of my mistakes. Maybe I am becoming a better me. Oh trust me, I know I’m still making stupid choices. But maybe… just maybe, they are becoming fewer and farther between?

So for now, I’m for real going to go buy myself some “anniversary” roses. Because I can. And I need them. And I’m the only one whose gonna do it.


-Future Ft. Nicki Minaj/You Da Baddest-

I’ll Take A Breath, I’ll Take Her By My Side We Stand In Awe, We’ve Created Life

With Little E’s birthday yesterday and Z’s coming up next week, it’s really been hitting a chord I didn’t even know I had. I want another baby. My kids are growing up and soon I’ll have a 4 & 7-year-old in my house and I won’t even be able to pretend I have a toddler anymore. I’ll officially have two children. Kids who are growing up too fast for me and I don’t like it. I heard something years ago, after I left E, that bothered me. I can’t remember where I heard it, but I think it was some fairly reputable therapist, regarding step-parents. They said (paraphrased) that if a new partner enters a child’s life in a parenting role before the age of 6, then it’s easier for that kid to adjust to them as a parent, and accept them. But any later than that, and basically the parenting, in particular the discipline should be done mainly by the birth parent only.

That resonated with me, and has stayed in the back of my mind all these years. I wanted SOOO badly for Little E to have a solid connection with a male role model in his life. He has nothing with E. Nothing. And just the thought that by now the opportunity for a meaningful bond to form between him and any potential ‘dad’ is heartbreaking. I know, I know, that thing I heard was just one mans opinion (In fact I think it was Dr. Phil lol) and there are plenty of scenarios that prove otherwise, but the thought still lingers.

I never wanted Little E and Z to be fatherless. It was obviously never my plan. But life happens. Shit happens. And now I’m just so disappointed with the path my life is on in this regards. I feel like a failure to my kids in that I haven’t been able to provide them with the home environment that I always envisioned. The “perfect” family.  Or at least a family that looked half decent to outsiders looking in, since no-ones perfect.

You know, the typical mom, dad, son and daughter…. But now it’s just the three of us. With Little E apparently at an age where he will have trouble connecting with a new father figure.

And yet I still want another baby. But by the looks of things, it could be years before that happens if it ever does, and do I really want that kind of age gap between my kids? Plus will I be able to carry another baby to term by then?

Maybe I’m being selfish, since I want the experience of being pregnant with a man who supports me during the pregnancy and just to see how it would be like to have him love the baby from the start. But is that fair to Little E and Z, who have never experienced anything even remotely similar?

I’m from a blended family, with my little sister N being born after my mom got re-married, and R and I could 100% tell the difference in the way my step dad treated her in comparison to us, which is something I never want Little E and Z to feel.

So now, I have this desire for a baby. To experience the joy I see couples have when they do it together. Something I’ve never had. I know I was married, but I’ve been single parenting it since day 1. E never once woke up at night to change a diaper or do a late night feed, or even to bring the baby to me so I could nurse them. He wasn’t there to help teach either one of them to walk or talk. He’s never driven the kids to school or daycare. He’s hardly ever attended a school function or play. Hell even K came to one of Little E’s school events. E’s been pretty absent since the get go.

So, maybe I’m being selfish, but these last few months I’ve been really thinking about another child, and the feasibility of it all. I want it so badly I’m tearing up right now, but I know I can’t just go randomly and get pregnant “just because” I want it.

I won’t ever put another child through what Little E and Z have gone through. A childhood without a father.

So until I find a man who’s in it for the long-LONG term, I’ll just have to shelf my desires and focus on the kids I already have.


-Creed/Arms Wide Open-

Wake Me Up When It’s All Over. When I’m Wiser And I’m Older. 

As we were preparing to get married, E shared a “tradition” from back home that he wanted us to partake in. This might be difficult to explain as it’s regarding names and I try to avoid using real name here for anonymity sake, as well as the fact that the “tradition” turned out to be 100% fake, and we did something that I’m, to this day, trying to remedy because E felt like making up some random story just for shits and giggles.

Anyways the tradition he told me went something like this… and keep in mind at this point, I’d never yet been to Kenya, and I had no reason to doubt anything E was saying, because quite frankly I never thought anyone would be capable of making up stuff as extreme as this just… well just because I guess, normal people I’d met up until that point never lied like E did. I’ll never actually know why he did it.

So, he told me that when a man gets married, at least in his tribe, it was custom for him to drop his last/surname and have his middle name became his new last name. So from that point on, he’d only be known by his first and middle name=his new last name.

So if I was dating a Billy Frank Smith, when we got married he would still be known as Billy, but our new last/surname would be Frank, and Smith would be out of the picture making my new husband only Billy Frank, and me C Frank. He said then as a man, you would be starting your own family and be more removed from your Dads ‘tribe’. Also, to make it even more complex (as everything with E was), the middle names when choosing a baby’s name were to be chosen from a limited group of ‘family’ names. So that the man could still be recognized as part of this certain tribe. He said they do it this way so that as a man gets married it is his way of starting his own tribe/family.

I hope I’m explaining it well, because trust me it was confusing as heck to me. Probably because it’s not a tradition that his tribe had been following for centuries or has ever done. It was something E made up in his mind. But I trusted him, because this was the man I was going to marry so I figured he was telling the truth, and I had no reason not to believe in him. Plus it was so absurd, how could it not be true, right?

Therefore at our wedding we had to make it known during a speech to explain how we would be known as Mr and Mrs M. instead of the expected original Mr. and Mrs. S that everyone was expecting, being that it was the name everyone had known E by. Since E was still dealing with immigration issues though and both of our names were on so many of those documents at that time as our maiden names, neither of us changed our names at that point, which was for the best. The person it has affected most though, is Little E.

When I became pregnant with him, more about this whole name thing was ‘explained’ to me by E. About how the middle names should be chosen from selected tribe names etc. At this time, our plan was that we would be moving to Kenya and living there on a more permanent basis, and I really wanted my kids to fit in as much as possible and was counting on E’s advice to make that happen. So E supplied me with a list of about 5-7 male names from his family tree that we had to choose from for Little E’s middle name, that, according to E would one day be his last name once he married. We settled on a name that sounded good when said start to finish “Little E, then the chosen middle name (also started with M) then the last name M’ that we would all have one day once we finished our paperwork. So it was decided. I thought.

Until literally 5-10 minutes after I had given birth to Little E and I was drugged up and totally out of it and E decides to ask if we can change everything we had previously decided on.

Instead of the original E.M.M, for the newly born baby boy, he wanted Little E to be named E.S.M. So that little E’s middle name would be E’s current last name starting with S. So that when Little E gets married and drops the last name of M, he will have E’s family name of S remaining. Confused? I was too.  I said yes, because I just didn’t care at the time, I was just glad my baby was healthy and I had successfully brought forth life. Plus I had JUST given birth, and was in no position to argue.

So Little E now had the initials E. S. M. Not to bad eh? Well, it was fine, until we flew with our little boy to Kenya, where lo and behold, his family and pretty much everyone else in the entire country told me that E was full of crap. They’d never heard of that tradition before. I was mad. Now E has gone and messed with our kids names! And for what???

I confronted him about it and all he could say was that he must’ve been mistaken, and that oh ok, we’ll keep the original S last name like usual. I couldn’t believe it. Did he not realize that now Little E has the S middle name and now E says it should be his last name too!?!? Like are you kidding me? Your want our son to be called Little E then Smith Smith for example? No thanks.

So I bring it up today because Little E has finally chosen a new middle name. He understands that his middle name of S will now be his last name so he can match Z and Dad and Mom and all share the same last/surname and since I am too stubborn and did not want Little E to just have his middle name and last name switch place, mainly because I don’t want E to have that small pleasure of having his family name remain after all the chaos his lies caused. So we’ve been taking our time deciding on a brand new middle one. And Little E choose it today.

We’ve read through many names and meanings and Little E choose the name Theo. It means divine gift and he loves it and although there are others that I might prefer, I don’t mind giving him the lead on this choice as I can see the confidence it gives him. Plus it’s a step up from last summer when he wanted to change it to Tyrannosaurus. Plus if it was that awful I would always veto it. But I think he choose well and I’ll be working on the legal process to change it throughout the coming weeks. Oh and yes, it’s already been documented in the divorce that I can change his name without consent from E, because of the exact reasoning above. So we’re in the clear. Although I did inform E of Little E’s choice and he is fine with it.

So, I guess all I can say is I’m not a fan of fake tradition.


-Avicii/Wake Me Up-