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 –

Advertisements

It’s The End Of The World As We Know It, And I Feel Fine

When you sit back and think about it, we all had to come from somewhere. Someone somehow we are all connected. I know it’s not a thought we all consider on the daily, but logically, this earth didn’t just appear yesterday functioning at this level of consciousness and efficiency that we are at today. Which leads me to wonder, when did it start, and from where, which leads to the only logical consideration that no matter what you believe as far as a creation standpoint, it will start at some point. Lending to the argument that we all, weather we like it or not, weather we want it or not, we all started at the same point. Not us in our physical bodies as we stand today, but as the very least the creation of either our thought or our soul or whatever you may call it.

So, if we were all “created” or “started” at the same “time” or within the same breathe or choose the same moment to begin, or whatever you believe or whichever path your thoughts took long ago, it really makes no difference what journey your thoughts took, what matters is that in this moment, we are here together, and we, logically thinking and speaking, all began in the exact same moment.

Have we had the exact same experiences since that time? Of course not. This journey is just that. A journey. With each of us individually afforded our own choices and decision making skills. Throughout the infinite history, it has brought our bodies to this point in time, where we can acknowledge the grandeur of our past and move on, or rest in our souls accomplishments thus far. Has your body completed what it wanted to when it first set out? Were you part of the decision making process to decide grass was green or the earth would rotate a certain direction or maybe your thoughts took the journey to decide the sun would burn hot instead of freeze cold.

And now we’re here. What are your thoughts actively partaking in? Are you thinking universal as you might have once done? Or have you narrowed your mind to just think simply of your bodies day to day activity?

They say ” God” is the body, the thought and the mind…. a do your u hear what I hear type thing. So when you lay in bed at night, have you closed your thoughts down to hear only “you” over the years, decades, even possible lifetimes you have lived? Or do you put your body to rest, and then just breathe. And relax your own thinking to slow down and hear the thoughts of others. Or on the other hand, are the thoughts you project into the world hindering the progression of what weave made thus far? Or contributing?

Or, the most fearsome consideration yet, have we all become so worn down by what we’ve created, that we’ve given up and we are all ready to go back to our original form. A much simpler, more loving, even God like form. Once we reconcile our lives and our souls can rest, we make that choice to. Instead of coming back to this projected perceived world, we make our final choice to rest our soul for good. We remove our thoughts and we, as an individual are no more. No more thought. No more chances. Just done.

Chosen one person at a time, will leave this world with many broken souls who didn’t know they had the chance to choose. Not somewhere I’d like to be, but once my soul is done, not something I will have knowledge of either way..


-R.E.M/ Its The End Of The World As We Know It-

I Find Myself Longing For Change And In The Bad Times I Fear Myself

Monday I had a friend over and I got so drunk. Something I’ve done less than a handful of times in my entire life. Drinking is really not something I find desirable shall we say. Anyways, life has been stressing me out more than normal and so I just let it all go. Nothing crazy happened that night but I mention it only so that when I say I missed two calls from the prison, you’ll understand why. It’s because I was so drunk I spent the night caressing the porcelain throne as opposed to watching for calls lol.

I remember being slightly upset when I saw the missed calls on my phone but it was right when I started to feel sick and the nauseated feeling definitely outweighed the sorrow of missing a phone conversation.

Which brings us to Wednesday, when I’m at work. AT WORK!!! And the COMPANY PHONE RINGS, and its the prison number. At work, on the company phone. Not even my own personal cell phone number anymore. This time, it was a female prisoner calling from somewhere in the country (I can’t remember now but I know I recognized the name of the city at the time of the call) but it was registering as the same number that calls my phone. I guess all the prisons use the same outgoing number? I’m not sure. Either way, I answered the call. Apparently it was some girl looking for her aunt. She asked if I was Anne. Nope I’m not. Then she asked if I was someone else (can’t remember I was so in shock, like literally what in the world was going on) so I said no. And she said she was looking for her aunt and I said sorry I can’t help and basically hung up. I was at work and this was just getting crazy now. Then I just let out one of those shocked laugh/chuckle things which led my co-worker to ask what happened, so I explained what happened.

So my boss A storms around the corner ‘that’s not funny’ ‘this has to stop’ Insinuating that I’ve arranged this somehow, or I have power over when the phone rings. Look I’m at work doing my job answering the phone YOU told me to answer. But he just kept going on and on about how if ‘they’re tracking me, and now know where I work, and are calling me here, then they are probably tracking him and my co-worker and it puts everyone in danger’. Etc.

I’m like don’t flatter yourself buddy. Trust me. No one has any interest in you. But good to know your a little bitch who lives in fear. But instead of feed his fear, I did my best to calm him down and explain it was a misdial and it was a girl from a different prison and she was looking for her aunt and all I did was answer the call so he backed off. For the moment. But then throughout the day he used our inter-office messaging system and it kept popping up on my computer…

‘Any more calls like that and you must report them to me immediately’

‘The likelihood of those calls being unrelated are highly unlikely’

I just kept thinking dude just back off and let me do my work. Right now, your causing more of a disturbance and threat to my peace than those calls ever did. I’m sorry you search out fear and panic, but I’m just going to move on and forget about it. If something happens then I’ll deal with it then. But for now, I’ve got enough REAL junk in my life that I’m not gonna create delusional shit in my mind.

So. Lol. Anyone else have ‘random’ prison calls at work and home?

-Lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper / Shallow-

So Please Help Them With Your Youth, They Seek The Truth Before They Can Die.

So it’s here.

That’s time of the day when the kids have gone to sleep and the lunches are packed and the house is clean because I spent all day vacuuming (I even did between/under the couch cushions) and mopping and scrubbing. All three loads of laundry are clean and folded and even put away. The dishes are washed and drying. We even went for groceries that are now all put away nicely. The kids are sleeping on freshly washed bedding with freshly washed bodies and freshly brushed teeth.

And then it hits me. In the silence as I stand in my bedroom. The thing I’ve been avoiding for forever.

There’s nothing left to do.

There’s nothing left to try and preoccupy my mind and keep it busy to pretend like I’m not constantly thinking about what I’m unfortunately thinking about.

The emptiness is literally all around and I’m engulfed in silence.

I never thought my life would get to this point. To this completely and utterly alone point. Where there’s nothing left to distract me. There’s no way to even pretend I’m in the most lonely place in the world.

I’m in my mind. Alone.

And I hate it.

It happens every night even I get undressed and ready for bed alone. When the house is in total silence except for the few familiar sounds I make. But that’s it. There’s no music blaring in fear of waking the kids. I don’t sit in the living room and watch tv because that seems like a couples thing. I put the kids to bed, clean up, and then I go to my room. I own this whole house, but I find myself stretched out on my bed, even now, writing this post from my phone. Sure the office is a few rooms away with a fully functional computer and a nice chair etc, but it feels uncomfortable. Not in the soft squishy sense. But uncomfortable in the fact that it’s not what I’m used to.

I’m a creature of habit. And my habit is to be safe, and warm. Not venture out in the dark alone. So when my kids are asleep… I’m here. On my bed. Endlessly scrolling instagram hopefully for its stupid entertainment. Listening to music, needing it to fill my void. Watching pointless things on Netflix.

But its in that moment before I get ‘settled’ on the bed, that the hopelessness finds me. Each night getting worse. The feeling or ‘why even bother’ ‘how pathetic can I get’ ‘look at how sad your life is’ ‘your not going anywhere C’ ‘this is your story’ ‘no ones going to even remember who you were… and rightfully so’ …. that I just hate myself.

I wish a million times over that I could’ve done so many thing differently to have never ended up where I am. I think of what could’ve been had I not have done this or that. Or instead pursued this opportunity or that option when it was offered. But instead… I stayed in my confining comfort zone. And I’m left with this.

This ‘life’ that is nothing of a life at all. Its a routine that I have to complete everyday and nothing more. It’s a struggle and a burdensome weight that I carry only with the hope that my kids will maybe possibly discover something more fulfilling than I have. But then I realize I’m doing nothing to help foster any dreams they may have.

I stifle any individuality they may show by my strict rules and discipline all in an attempt to keep my routine as easy as possible for myself. I don’t allow them freedom to express or explore… ever basically. I have no extra funds to encourage trying new extra curricular activities. Instead I’ve come to the understanding just now while writing this, that my entire reasoning is counterproductive. I want the best for them but provide none of the opportunities to achieve that. I’m to exhausted by the end of my day to even play a god damn board game with them.

So I shovel them off to bed to rest myself, and then hate being alone.

You know what? I just don’t even have a decent enough train of thought to reason this one out. Facts seem pretty clear: I’m a ridiculous mom.

I say I want to be a good mom. And on the surface I invest a lot of time and energy into the things that would paint that picture. But when it comes down to it, my kids are getting a pretty shitty end of that stick.

I guess this is what I get for thinking to much in bed at night.

A shitty stick 😕

-Crosby, Stills & Nash/Teach Your Children-

It’s Beauty In The Struggle, Ugliness In The Success Hear My Words Or Listen To My Signal Of Distress

My sister N and her husband D had their first baby yesterday.

A cute little girl with a massive mouth the size of N’s…. but I didn’t say that… out loud. That’s the thing about newborns. They really aren’t that cute. Oh of course everyone says they’re adorable, and they are! New life and all that good stuff is amazing. But they are also butt ugly. Eyes too big for their heads, swollen lips and genitals from being pushed through the birth canal. You really can’t fault them for not being able to put their best foot forward when they literally have no choice but come head first. (Oh my god I’m so clever lol) But we as a ‘nice polite society’ have taken it upon ourselves to be overly kind and say each and every baby is beautiful and adorable, just to not hurt feelings. Whatever. Point is, they don’t stay that way forever and for the most part turn our adorable anyways.

My kids were AWFUL  looking, like fricken toads slash chubby sumo wrestlers and now I’ll be honest and say they’re gonna go on and break hearts one day. Things change. No big deal. I think it was worse trying to agree with someone when they would comment on my newborn as they were saying something like “oh he’s so cute” knowing deep down myself that he looked like a turd by society’s standards, because I knew it didn’t matter. I knew I loved him, and I know looks are only skin deep. So why can’t we be honest if someone is not that attractive? Like why do we have to go to such great lengths that we lie about it?  If you don’t think they are cute, I’m not saying call it out and say they look ugly, because that’s only your opinion. But I’m thinking you don’t have to lie about it just to go along with the crowd and do what’s always been done, kinda in a save face sort of way. It is possible to just keep your mouth shut and carry on with your day. I’m jus sayin’.

Anyways, my sister is so happy that the baby came early, since she wasn’t due until Friday June 29th, which is the day after we leave for Kelowna, so she’s glad we get to meet baby F at our going away dinner tomorrow night.

Since these are our last few days here, I have so much to do, which is why I’m 100% procrastinating and blogging instead. It gets to the point where I plan it all in my head, then put it off and put it off, and then at the last-minute work really hard under pressure. At least that’s how I hope it goes this time lol. Either that or it’ll be a chaotic mess and I’ll end up running around like a chicken with my head cut off, but so far the former has worked for me.

“Kon Marieing ” my life has made this move so much easier. I don’t have a lot of useless shit to pack. Plus we’ve been living at my parents house since April when my house sold and basically have just our one suitcase each, so that’s all I have to worry about packing this time around.

Last week I made the final “installment” if you will on my house deposit and paid all the lawyer fees etc. I’ve decided to leave Thursday after work and drive part way, then stay at a hotel for one night before doing the other half of the drive on Friday. Originally I was going to do it all in one shot, but I figured it’ll just be easier on the kids to do only about 8 hours on Friday… we’ll see. Then we’ll stay at my Aunt’s in Kelowna on Friday night and meet my realtor on Saturday at the new house for the keys. I arranged for our storage bin to be dropped off on Friday so we have the whole long weekend to unpack and get settled. Oh shit I just remembered I still have to set up utilities. Add another thing to the ever growing to-do list. Next Monday the kids will go see the daycare they’ll be at for the summer and get a quick tour, and then Tuesday I’m back at work. And that will be that. Seems like a plan, but we’ll see what else life throws at me between now and then.

Whatever happens I plan on blogging more regularly once I’m there.

Living with my parental unit has not been the most enjoyable thing and I’ve just had everything in my life rearranged. But hopefully things will get more settled soon and I’ll be back to me, but a newer improved version of me.

So, I figure that’s enough wasting time, and I should go and get some of my stuff prepped… like utilities for example lol.

Til next time, which might be from our new home, C.


-J. Cole/ Love Yourz-