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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Time Is A Gift On Loan Fate Is Already Known It’s Your Destiny To Make It To The End It’s Your Destiny To Go Against The Trend

When I had the sex talk with Little E last week, I left out a major part, since I felt it deserved its own post.

At some point during our talk of how babies were made, which he had a pretty decent grasp of for an eight year old, we got into the topic of how E and I had sex, and E’s sperm and my egg connected to grow into a baby in my tummy. I told him loosely of how his ejaculation contains millions of sperm and how they race to the egg and how the first one that connects with the egg goes on to create a baby. The egg then grow and multiplies continually into a baby.

This led into a few questions, which prompted this post to break into its own. As I mentioned last time, if the egg wasn’t used, the woman got her period and then prepared a new egg during the next month. Somehow he got confused thinking a woman could only get pregnant once. So I explained, no. Every month she has the opportunity to have a baby. I have both you and Z from Daddy right? And, then I went on to say maybe one day I will find a man to have a new relationship with who loves me and respects me and if we decide we are comfortable with each other and we choose to have sex, then I can again have another baby.

This made him tear up, as he asked “so I’ll have a different dad?” So I had to wonder why it made him so upset. I explained that E would always be his Dad/Father and the one who created him through sex with me, but maybe one day, he could have a man in his life as a role model that he could call dad if he wanted to. I told him I would never be in a relationship with someone who didn’t want him or Z as his own, and that if I were to get with someone we could create a family, but no one would ever replace E as a dad as far as who contributed DNA and who you are as Little E is as a person. Little E was concerned that if I had sex with someone else and made a new baby, and he had a new dad, it would innately change who he was.

And that made me think.

On many levels.

When does life start? When are we created? Not when are we born, but when are we created?

Are we created when the sperm hits the egg? Are we created when we are born and take that first breath? Or are we yet to be created until we as an individual recognize our existence and acknowledge where we can from, both mother and father? Or are we created at the onset of a relationship that will lead to sex, a spark in the eye so to speak (ok that one’s a little far-fetched).

But in the whole circle of life, when is the moment you can look in the mirror and truly say, I’m alive, I am living, and in doing so acknowledge that everything living must die?

What if we are just still eggs or sperm in our ancestors body waiting to be connected to our soulmate, attempting time and time again to plan out the perfect exit plan, or entrance into life? What if we are just thoughts that haven’t actually experienced any of this yet? What if we are waiting to make the connection with the one racing toward us? Whose to say this is life, other than a thought that was thought before us and we all chose to accept without proof?

Because my innocent son thought he could have a new dad if he believed hard enough. He thought he could have me as his DNA mom and a new DNA dad, and it made me question what have I come to believe to be “true” just because someone said it. How deep of a connection can we create with someone? How far back can we go? How alive are we at this point that things are irreversible?

Yes we can touch and feel things etc, but whose to say that there isn’t so much more than that, and we aren’t just the start of something so much bigger and better that no one has yet to experience, so we’ve yet to discover and therefore no one discusses/believes it.

Whose to say we aren’t just the egg / sperm waiting with all our knowledge to connect with someone else and create a new life / universe/ experience, literally anything we want to call it?

Food for thought.


-Petra/Destiny-

 

I Pay The Cost, Who ‘Gon Take It Off I Record Then I Ball, I Ignored A Lot Of Calls You Ain’t Talking About Nothing, I Ain’t Got No Time

So yesterday was Father’s Day here in Canada.

As I’m sure you could assume, I’m not the biggest fan of Father’s Day.

My birth “father”? Non existent in my eyes. I haven’t spoken to him since a “brief” reconnection when I was sixteen (a 15 minute chat that ended with him giving me his business card). Before that? I hadn’t seen him in probably a dozen years.

My kid’s “father”? Back committed again in a psych ward. I know I said he was out a week or so ago, but he’s back…again. Probably for the best. Men who beat their wives unprovoked are obviously not right in the head and need all the help they can get, even if they will never be “normal.” Since I filed for divorce 4+ years ago, he’s pushing close to 9 months of being committed, and the doctors have outright said he will never “get better.” So basically my kids don’t have a dad either. But we all know they never really did.

My step-dad who raised me? Of course he did his best, but his preference for his biological daughter, my younger sister was obvious.

So, no. I have no positive feelings for Fathers Day.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure there are plenty of great, nay even superb dad’s out there. But I just don’t have any in my inner circles. I didn’t have any role models growing up showing what a good dad could be like, which is probably why I set the bar so low for my now ex. But my issue is why?

Why the fuck can’t men be better men?

For sure there are tons of crappy women/mothers out there, but why is it somehow automatically assumed that woman have to step up when a relationship falls to shit and be the “better” parent? Of course there are exceptions to this as with everything, but the majority of the time y’all know what I’m talking about.

Why do woman have to step it up more than guys? Last time I checked it took both his dick and your vagina to make that baby. Plus the woman already did her time, 9 months worth more than a man growing the kid, so does that mean she gets the next 9 months off while he does 9 straight to compensate? Hell no. In our society sometimes the girl is “lucky” if the guy is still around by the time the child is born.

What the fuck happened to family? What happened to commitment? What happened to choosing each other and purposely deciding to create a beautiful life? How did we get so messed up, to the point where men for some reason just assume that the lady will be all good in raising A HUMAN BEING ALONE if he decides to up and bail? And for who knows what.

  1. He wasn’t ready
  2. He was scared
  3. He didn’t want the baby
  4. He found new girl
  5. He couldn’t afford the child
  6. He thought he was too young
  7. He just outright didn’t think it was his problem
  8. Etc. etc. etc.

Well guess what, we as woman feel half those reasons too. And you know what we need in that moment? A MAN. Not a boy who was horny and instead of full of sperm he’s now full of excuses. So now in the most basic sense, all I can say, although I know it’ll fall on deaf ears, if fucking keep it in your pants.

Men and woman.

If you’re not ready to be a parent, you shouldn’t be messing around.

I’m just done with celebrating stupidity. I’m done with Hallmark holidays.

Even more so, right now, I’m done with men.


-The Carters/Boss-