Another One Bites the Dust

I have been texting with a nice guy on a dating app I am on. He is super chill and cute and seems pretty normal. However, on Wednesday, he asked me via text if I wanted kids. I told him I was cool with being a stepmom if my partner had kids, but I didn't want to have kids out of my own body. He asked me why and said he was just asking. Sigh. So, I told him the truth. I never wanted to have kids of my own because being the oldest of four made me feel like a mom when I was a kid. However, as stated previously, I have no problem being a stepmom. He left me on read. 

Two things. First off, I can not believe that I am being asked at 40 if I want to have kids. When do men think that the menopausal process starts? 75? I really do believe that ever since Janet Jackson had a baby at 103, men have gotten confused and all turned around on the matter. I'm about to age out of the game bruh! If I got pregnant today, I really do believe that I would give birth to a walnut. Secondly, let's make a rule. Let's have it chiseled into stone and then sent out on little laminated cards for people to keep in their pockets. When we are discussing a matter as serious as family planning, it is INHUMANE to leave a person on read. We are not animals, sir! And even if we were, I like to believe that if a man gazelle was texting a lady gazelle about babies, he would reply to all messages because, and this is important, they even have decency in the wild. 

Wednesday was a long time ago. I wonder if my response turned him off or if he is just busy? Who knows? What I do know is that I promised myself a long time ago not to lie about whether or not I wanted to have kids. So, I hope he does respond. If not, at least I was honest. 

Post Traumatic Nephew Syndrome

I have been having weird dreams lately that take place at my high school. In them I am being taunted and jeered, just like the bad old days. In one dream, I am walking down one of the hallways alone singing: "I am Holly. It is just me. I am so far behind, I should just be." I figured that these dreams were a result of my general anxiety and damage from high school. Now I think that my nephew is causing them.

Lately, he has been getting bullied on the school bus. Some little girl calls him names, hits him, and most recently ripped his report card that he was so excited to show us. Then some other boy just straight up hit him in the face! As a result, the bus driver gave my nephew an assigned seat near her, as if he was the issue. I think that this has triggered me and is causing my subconscious to go spiraling back to when I was in school. 

One reason why I never wanted kids is because I didn't want to relive how hard being one was. My weight was a constant source of ridicule, all the way up to my young adult years, but being in school was the worst! My whole existence seemed to be a joke for everyone, and no adult ever stepped up to help me. Being a kid was a very lonely experience. 

So when I see my nephew pouting over someone hurting him, it pisses me off and sends me free falling back to adolescence. My brother said he is going to teach my nephew to fight, but why does that even have to be the solution? Wouldn't it be easier for parents to teach their kids not to be a$$holes? 

When I was a kid, I used to fantasize about a world where I could be my binge-reading, fat self without other kids having something to say. That was over 30 years ago and it seems that things have only gotten worse. I guess that warm, accepting world only exists in my dreams. 

Dateline 30-Something

Did you know that people are still dating? I honest to God had no idea! I thought that all of us that are not married by now had agreed to give up years ago! I mean, can you believe it. People are still trying. I mean, I am shocked! Do you know how much energy it takes to try? It takes all I have just to roll over and groan into my pillow! 

My friend Ashley said she went on three dates last week. Three. One. Two. Three. Three dates. On three separate occasions, she showered, did her hair, got dressed, left her apartment, drove to a location, met with a man, had banter for two hours, then came home. She did this three times. One. Two. Three. Wooo! I need a nap from just typing that out! 

I mean, I get it I guess. A lot of my friends want marriage and kids, so if ever there was a time to amp up the dating, I guess the time is now. I don't want kids, but I like to think that if I did, I would just cut my losses and go to the sperm bank! The motivation it takes to go on apps and get out and meet people...yikes! I just don't have it, not that I ever really did. But I really don't now. My tolerance for disappointment has decreased over the past ten years. Just the idea of being let down makes me sleepy. 

But I have to admit, I have my fingers crossed for my friends still fighting the good fight. Every friend over 35 that finds love is just indication that all the rom coms were right, and there is love to be found going into middle age! Hey, I hear you laughing at me, but whatever. Believing in fantasies keeps you young. 

#newauntyseason

I don't believe that I told you all this, but my sister had a baby. His name is Isaiah, and I watch him twice a week while my sister is at work during the day. He is two months. When he isn't asleep, he is crying, and he has to be fed every three hours, even if that third hour falls in the middle of the night.
Lately, he has been super needy. I think that he is getting sick. I have tried to put him on a sleep schedule. That has been an epic fail, seeing that everyone wants to play with him. Bath time has become dangerous. He tries to kick himself out of my arms as I am turning on the water. He is too young to be entertained by TV or music, so the only way you can soothe him is by rocking him in your arms. Of course, while you are doing that, you aren't getting anything done. I mean, you could shower while he is sleeping, but trust me, while he is sleeping, you would want to sleep too.
I love Isaiah, but I see now why the old folks say it takes a village to raise a child. If it takes a village to raise one, you need at least a small army to babysit. My army consists of my two brothers, who are all in with helping me with the baby until they rather do anything else like play a video game or space out. They hold him wrong and put his diaper on baggy.
I worked at a daycare, and I don't remember ever being this tired working with those kids. I guess it is different when the child isn't related to you and there are three certified teachers watching your back.
I get very irritated with my brothers for not being as supportive as I feel that they could be on babysitting days, but I am outright mad at those Instagram moms. Yes, the IG moms, pushing their strollers in yoga pants while drinking a tummy tea out of some type of a clear jug. Last night, Isaiah threw up down my nightshirt. Where is that picture?
Today is my last day of babysitting. If I type quietly while he is sleeping, I may be able to get in two more posts. #newauntyseason

Babies

I used to work at a daycare in the 2-year-old room. They were cool kids, but I always made a point to visit the baby room before it was time to go home. Have you ever spent time in a room full of babies? It's like being in candy land. They are all sweet and soft and smell like like freshness. You literally want to take a bite out of all of them. I say that to say this: I don't want kids...I don't think.

"If you wanted kids, you would know by now," Dizzle assured me. You see, she wants kids, and has wanted them her whole life. On the same hand, she is an only child. I have three siblings and when I was a kid, taking them everywhere with me, I already felt like a mother. It didn't feel good. It felt overwhelming and suffocating. 

Sometimes when I am bored, I think about what my kids would look like and what I would name them. Then I think about how horrible it would be to have kids while broke and single and I have a panic attack. 

P judges me for not wanting kids. As you know, he is Muslim, and deep down in his heart, he feels that my sole purpose for being alive is to populate the earth with babies, regardless of whether or not I am capable of taking care of them. This is the same man that told me that he felt that women that didn't want kids had a mental problem because, duh, why would women not want to do something super awesome that men can't do? 😑 

Perhaps I am putting the cart before the horse, thinking of kids before I even have a man. But a friend of mine who is two years older than me went to the gynecologist and they suggested she freeze her eggs because she is old. Talk about a cold slap in the face! I thought there was a silent rule to NEVER call a woman old, especially before she was 40! When you realize how little time you really have to get pregnant, it makes you start thinking of pregnancy, even when you are me and you aren't sure if you want to be a mother. 

"If I had a daughter, I would name her Noel," I told Dizzle proudly. Noel. Thank God for blessing me with the sense to separate my fantasies from what is actually fitting for my life. 

Bad Parenting

I go back and forth on whether or not I want kids. I acknowledge that I am nuts, and I don't want to produce anymore fucked up humans for the world to deal with.
This became evident at Wal-Mart last night watching this mom curse out her kids in the meat isle.
Her son was playing with his little sister and she screamed, "STOP BEFORE I BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU! ACT YOUR DAMN AGE!" Mind you, he only looked about nine, and the look on his face after she yelled at him...he just looked like a kid that is going to grow up to be troubled.
After yelling at the kids for talking to each other, she began to get majorly annoyed when the kids started talking to her. Finally she yelled for her husband, who was hiding in the chip isle.
"NIGGA BRING YOUR ASS!" she yelled.
Man, I've never seen a man run so fast in my life, turning the corner with two cans of Pringles in his arms.
"Why you yellin'?" he asked. I mean, his voice was shaking.
"BECAUSE THESE KIDS ARE GETTING ON MY GODDAMN NERVES!"
My aunt and I turned onto the toilet tissue isle to laugh. Not because it was funny, but because it was horrifying. She had scared everyone who could hear her. I have never seen people in a store clear an area so fast.
I don't want to be this lady, but I have no patience, so it's a possibility.
You know this lady. You have seen her at your neighborhood store. Tall, leggings, holy t-shirt, ratty hair weave, red eyes, pissed, and scary.
Again, things like this make me rethink motherhood.

Fat! Fat! Fat!

Today, I decided it was a good idea to ring up $140 worth of groceries at the self check out at the grocery store. I know, bad idea.
This woman came to the check out behind me with her two children. Her son was pretending to do karate and her daughter was in the grocery cart. I looked at her and smiled, loving her little Afro puff.
"Hello," I said to the little girl.
She replied by pointing at me and saying, "Fat, fat, fat!"
I look to the mother who was not paying attention. She was apparently searching for gold in her purse.
"That isn't a nice thing to say," I said to the little girl.
"I'm sorry," she said, then went on to say, "Fat! Fat! Fat! Big!"
I stared at this girl blankly. She had to have been about 5; too old to be in the buggy and too old to be calling me fat.
I got way too close to her and said with a smile, "That really isn't nice." I was trying to communicate with my eyes, What? Are you retarded you little dumb bitch?! I said you are being an asshole!
Getting uncomfortably close to the cart got her mom's attention.
"What's going on?" she asked.
The little boy stopped fighting with the air to inform the mother of the situation.
"Do you think that that's cute?" The mom asked the little girl.
"You are a pretty little girl," I said, walking away, flicking her off. "You really shouldn't say ugly things."
"Right!" said the mom, not looking at me to see my festive hand language.
Karate man saw it though. He thought it was funny.

Avoiding Being "Blessed"

Last weekend I went out to lunch with my aunt and a woman we met recently, Pat. She is pretty nice, but I get the feeling she might be a super Christian. And no, I do not have a problem with Christians. I consider myself one, although I have been known to be a bit...half-baked at best. No, by super I mean extremist. I have the feeling she may be an avid Fox News watcher.
We actually had a pretty good lunch until I, being the nosebud that I am, asked her if she had kids. She said she had two. She asked me if I had any, and I said no. She asked me if I wanted any, and I said, no. This is all my fault. I should have learned by now that whatever the situation, whoever the person, always say you want kids to a person that already has them. It cuts down on a potentially uncomfortable conversation, and, somehow, it just seems rude not to.
Well, after I told her I did not want children, I saw that look on her face and immediately tried to take it back. So I fell back on my old reliable: "I don't want kids right now." She was not convinced. I simply sat back in my chair and waited on whatever whopper she was going to hit me with.
"I did not think that I wanted kids either," she told me honestly,"until God blessed me with two."
I let out a sigh of relief...but she was not done.
"But you see, God wants us to be fruitful and multiply. If you don't, you are just being selfish."
I looked at this woman, this petite, sweet woman, who has been "blessed" with two kids...and I had to fight the urge to laugh! Whatever! It was evident to me that this lady wouldn't have had kids herself if she had not have been "blessed." Give me a friggin break! Note to readers: married people, people with kids, they are always looking for people to join their fraternities of misery. Don't believe the hype people, don't believe the hype.

Babies Go Bye-Bye

I went to Staples the other day and ran into a girl that I used to work at Popeye's with in high school.
I hated that job so much that when I usually see someone from that chapter in my life, I go in the opposite direction. But this girl, we will call her "Candi," was nice. She never gave me any problems. I just remember her being very loud and ghetto.
She looked about the same. However, she had kicked the elaborate weave ponytails and huge earrings to the curb, so she looked a bit older. And she was sitting down as she rang people up, which indicated to me that she was pregnant.
I asked her where she was living, and she told me the projects. That made me sad. I don't know how the projects are in other cities, but the ones that have managed to remain open in Atlanta SUCK!
Then I went on to ask her how many kids she had and she had to count on her fingers. I was thinking, "Tell me she hasn't had so many babies that she has lost count!"
Not the case at all. She was trying to refresh her memory to add how many abortions she has had and how many babies she actually kept to tell me how many times she'd been pregnant and no, that is not what I asked her.
"I have one and then I'm pregnant now, but I have been pregnant (counting on fingers) maybe five or six times."
I stared at her blankly as to not say anything offensive such as, "What?!"
But I guess my face said something because she went on to say, "Girl, I couldn't have five kids runnin' around!"
Living in the projects and working at Staples I had to agree. Yet the whole situation made me sad. Why was she offering this information up so easily? I know girls who have found themselves at the abortion clinic that have not even told their parents, nevertheless a person they have not seen in six years!
She seemed happy to be pregnant this time though, rubbing her long acrylic nails over her little baby bump as she helped me find the packing envelops. I can only pray that next time around, she can find some cost-effective birth control.

The Dying Art of Halloween

I sit here this early Sunday morning, literally up to my expanding waistline in candy wrappers. Last night I went trick or treating with my little brother and sister. We hit up four subdivisions in four hours, and returned home fat and happy with sacks of candy as big as Santa's bag. Ug, it was beautiful.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. It is. And it saddens me that every year I see less and less people celebrating it. This year, more houses were dark, alerting treaters that residents of that address were not participating in this fantastical Fall festivity. I want to tell myself that it is because the economy is bad, and folks just don't have the money to be passing out candy to other people's children, but my heart tells me it is because some religious wingnuts think that Halloween is some type of Devil day or something.

I first started hearing this loonie talk when I was in middle school. I took the same set of siblings treating one year, and almost everyone had these notes on their doors saying they were going to celebrate Hallelujah Day, not Halloween, but Hallelujah Day, at some type of church festival or that they did not celebrate it at all and they suggested we go home before the very roof of Hell opened and swallowed us up. Then there was the year that my neighborhood single handily canceled Halloween because it fell on a Sunday. Some people will even make that lame 80s argument that Halloween is dangerous. Seriously, I have not heard anything about folks putting crack in candy since I was five! Sadly, folks just don't have the money to drug our kids like they used to.

Question: How can you not LOVE Halloween? Not even God can be against the little baby cakes dressing up like Spider Man and lady bugs. I saw a giraffe at the grocery store yesterday, and my heart melted. The little girl had a little giraffe booty and tail. It was simply one of the sweetest things I have ever seen! Plus, you get free candy, see other people's costumes, and some people even decorate their houses really cool, making their homes treater friendly.

This year I was also stunned by the disrespect of the holiday by the treaters. They were not following the sacred Halloween rules. For one, you don't bombard homes in groups and catch the resident off guard. That's rude! And you don't go to houses with good candy twice and then get pissy if they remember you and won't give you any candy. You don't bang on doors. You don't ring the doorbell more than once. You don't run across people's lawns and flower beds. You let the younger kids go ahead of you. You wear a costume and YOU MUST, you must, say trick or treat! You don't just stand on someone's porch with your hand out and a mean mug! Sigh...I saw a big disregard for these rules today. I don't know about you, but I blame the parents.

As you probably already figured, I am planning what I am going to be next year. If I can figure out how to make it, I would love to be a seahorse. Oh well, I have a whole year to decide. For now, I shall munch on my six pounds of candy.

Baby Bells

Lately, I find myself wanting a baby, even though I generally do not like kids.
It all started when I was still in college and went to the children's service at my church. Usually, I dodge these services because the kids cannot sing, I hate their never-ending little ribbon dances, and they are just overall annoying. But this particular service the kids sang and I cried. They just looked so cute!
Needless to say, I was turned off by my emotions.
Now, whenever I see a baby I have to stop and comment on how cute he or she is and dangle my fingers in its face and do that annoying baby talk. It's like I separate from myself, and I see myself mingling with the baby and I'm like, "Quit it!" But I can't.
Don't worry, I'm not going to have a baby. I actually can't think of anything more devastating to my future than having a baby right now, but I do think about them a lot.
These feelings have even spilled into how I look at men. If I find myself liking a guy a small voice will say in my head, "He would make a good father," which is odd because, due to my own personal daddy issues and issues with men in general, I always felt that if I did have a kid, I would probably be a single mother.
So what do I do? Do I ignore my urges forever and one day possibly regret it, or do I one day have a kid and hate myself for giving up all my freedoms and dedicating my life to a little person who will one day leave me?
I guess it is too soon to tell. Until I get my life figured out, I guess I will just satisfy my mommy needs by catching as many children's services as possible.