If She Don't Know Me By Now....

I know it’s been a while but life with kids, life with me, life in general is crazy and there doesn’t ever seem to be enough time for it all.  Damn….

I believe the children are our future.  Teach them well and let them lead the way….Thank you Whitney Houston. 

However, if my child is my future, I’m up crap creek without a canoe!  I already have to sleep with one eye open.  She asked me about my life insurance policy the other day.  WTH!  She's 10! The older she gets, man……

My lil mama and I are polar opposites.  If I like white, she likes black.  If I want Mexican, she wants Chinese.  If I want to rob a bank, she won’t drive the getaway car.  Everything is like pulling teeth with her and I’m not ready for veneers yet!

I can’t get this child to crack open a book to save her life.  If I tell her to go study she looks at me like I just told her Hannah Montana was really a dude.  It’s like the end of the world if I ask her to do anything academic.  I am no Nobel Prize winner or scholar myself but damn!  I can’t get her to do anything pertaining to school. She’s been counting down the days until the break and it’s finally here.  To top it off, SHE CAN’T WAIT TO BE RID OF ME!

I say that because she usually goes to her grandmother’s house when I have to work.  That is where she was living before she came to stay with me and that is her haven.  It’s a good thing but it hurts my feelings to know that she hates being her with me.  Over the Thanksgiving break she literally cried when she had to come home.  I’m a big boy but my feelings were really hurt. 

Truth is, I would hate living with me too.  I know I’m hard but I’m hard because I want her to be better.  I want her to be a better student. I want her to be a cleaner individual.  I want her to be more tactful.  I want her to be more self-sufficient so she can leave me the hell alone sometimes!  I swear that she has a proximity disorder.  If I’m sitting on the couch, she’s sitting on the couch 2 inches from me.  If I’m in the kitchen, she’s peering over my shoulder in the kitchen.  She has separation anxiety or something.  If I’m more than 2 feet away, she goes into panic mode! (I’m joking but she is always in the mix like Bruhman from the 5^th floor)

I just want her to be better and my idea of better is a little overbearing.  I know she’s sick of me and I’m trying to tone it down but it’s hard.

Side note….funny story.  Lil mama and I were in the mall a few weeks back and I ran into an old class mate.  I hadn’t seen this cat in over 10 years so we chopped it up for at least 15 minutes.  After we laughed and caught up we exchanged numbers and bid one another farewell.  As my daughter and I were walking away she turns to me and says “Daddy, I don’t know why you took that man’s phone number, you know you aren’t going to call him.”  I looked at her like, Damn…..she was right, I NEVER call anyone when I say I am so I wasted 15 minutes of my life.  Damn shame how well my kid knows me.  Too bad I not more like Cliff Huxtable.  

Public Service Announcemnt

Just thought I'd do a little something different this time.  I did have to get in lil mama's ass the other day for continuously trying to get over on me but I just didn't feel like typing it up.  When I say get in that ass, I had to break out the belt and pull a James Evans on her.  And yes, she pulled a Penny.  No Daddy, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I'm sorry!  As soon as that belt hit that ass, no more words.  We had James Brown, Al Green, and Etta James in this camp hollering!  I felt bad afterwards but she had it coming.  I've been a parent for over 10 years and that is only the 2nd spanking (whoopin for my readers who know the deal) I've ever given her.

Do y'all believe in whoopin ass or is it bad parenting?

Teach me how to study, teach me, teach me how to study.....

First off, let me say thank you to all of the readers.  I do appreciate all of your kind words and support.  Those words go a long way.

Well, on to why we have a new post today.  School!  I’ll go on record by saying that I wasn’t the most astute student in the world but that wasn’t until high school.  In elementary, everything was pretty steady as she goes.  It doesn’t seem that way with my lil mama.  DAMN!  I will say this though, I don’t recall doing some of the stuff that they do now when I was in the 5^th grade.  Maybe I was in the slow class and didn’t know it but it seemed like we were still trying to color in the lines and count to 20.  Lil mama comes home with questions about how to balance a check book and what is the diameter of the hypothalamus gland.  (Well, maybe not that intese but I'm just sayin.....) In the 5^th damn grade!

With that said, I still don’t settle or accept mediocre grades.  I at least expect you to get all B’s.  I would love for you to be a straight A student but I don’t expect you to be able to build me a rocket.  It doesn’t take much to be a C student and that is what she aspires to be.  HELL NAW! 

I’ll be honest, math isn’t my thing.  I went to school and studied English.  I’m born in Indiana, raised in Texas, never left the country, and have a degree in English.  I challenged the hell out of myself, huh?  So, I can read, check.  I can write, check. I can speak the English language, check.  Hell yeah I’ll get a University to say that I’m an accomplished academic in this.

Enough about me…like I said, math isn’t my thing so I empathize with my lil mama and her math grades but a damn D in Social Studies.  Social Studies?  That’s like failing recess!  All you do is read, write, and recall.  There are no equations.  No formulas.  No theories.  You just need to remember who went were, when and why.  That’s it!  I asked her about the French Inquisition and she wanted to go to La Madeline.  WTH?

Ask my lil mama what happened on one of those Madea movies and she’ll quote every line.  Tell her to teach you how to Dougie and she will call Dougie and break out into a routine with him on the line.  Ask her about Justin Bieber and she’ll tell you how warm he likes his soup but ask her about a damn fraction….Child Please! 

I know there are more avenues out there.  Tutoring, learning centers, on-line programs; I get that.  My issue is with my child being alright with mediocrity.  She doesn’t even try.  I said, “Shag, go and read a book, do something different.”  At that moment, I think I saw a portion of her brain ooze out of her ear and drip on to her shirt.  It was like I asked her kill a kitten or something but just at that moment….the phone rang.  The sky opened, the sun came out, the sea parted, she woke up out of her trance like she had found the last golden ticket and Willy Wonka was at the damn door.  I think I popped a blood vessel telling her to get her damn ass off the phone!  WTH?

Maybe I’m tripping.  Maybe I am being too hard.  Maybe I need to just let her do her thing in hopes that she comes around.  Maybe I need to drink more and worry less.  Maybe I just need to be more like Cliff Huxtable…..

I Dream of Africa Too!

I will start this off by saying Dave, babydaddydiaries.blogspot.com, is my hero.  He is what a single father should be and what I aspire to be one day.  After reading a few of his posts, I need to step my damn game up!  Thank you, Dave! 

With that said, this isn’t a post about the wonderfulness of being a father.  This post is to vent a little about my pathetic excuse for a baby mama.  I gained custody for a reason.  That woman is unfit to care for a pet rock! (She once asked me if you needed a passport to go to Hawaii)  Yeah, I know…..

Truth be told, my daughter lived with her grandmother but my baby mama had custody.  Crazy, right?  The messed up part is that I had to pay child support for no damn support.  That’s like buying a bra that doesn’t work.  No support leaves your ninnies all over the damn place.  Just like my lil mama! 

I used to have to pay child support.  It’s called CHILD SUPPORT.  I’m breaking her off something proper each month to take care of lil mama and she’s taking care of herself.  (See clip below)

Note: I know I already posted this but I just had to do it again.  I used to do a little spoken word and she pissed me off and I just gave her the damn business on stage that night.  Oh yeah, it’s a little self plug for myself too though.

Taking my daughter shopping consisted of going through her closet and giving my daughter the things that she couldn’t fit anymore.  Dumb ass girl has a nine year old wearing skinny jeans and halter tops. My lil mama was still wearing shoes from 2 birthdays ago.  Soooo…..she looks like a stripper in training with bad feet and a skin rash.  Are you damn serious? 

Want to hear something funny?  This fool wanted me to pay her child support even though I have custody.  That is just ignorant as hell!  So I had to ask her, did she want me to rent Kylea from her?  Was it going to be Lease-a-Kid or something?  My attorney had to laugh at her ignorant ass for that one.

What am I left with?  Fifty dollars a month and where is she…..this fool has been in Nigeria for the past 2 ½ months eating foo foo, buying head wraps, and calling my damn house with a fake ass accent.  Fool, you’re from Houston!  Who does that?  Tell me!  Oh, yeah.  SHE DOESN’T HAVE A DAMN JOB!

I’ll digress…..I will leave my baby mama alone for now.  I just read one of Dave’s post and it made me a little angry, a little bitter, a little salty about my STD (Stuck with her ass Til one of us Dies) .  I felt like slapping the hell out of someone (the BM of course).  Boy Stop! 

Man…..I guess that’s why I ain’t Cliff Huxtable.

That's Just Plain Nasty!

Spit (as an intransitive verb) – to eject saliva as an expression of aversion or contempt. (Merriam-Webster Online)

So, on my way home from work I get a phone call from my daughter as I do every day to let me know that she made it in the house safely.  I ask the usual questions like, do you have homework, how was school, what do you want to eat, and so on and so forth.   Before I can hang up the phone she goes on to tell me that she had “something to tell me”.  Usually, that means she’s:

A)     Gotten a bad grade

B)      Broke something in the house

C)      Didn’t do something she was supposed to or…

D)     Trying to come up with the biggest lie on earth to cover up for something that she’s done in hopes that I don’t find out or investigate.

Well, she goes on to tell me that a little girl on the bus spit on her.  Not just on her, in her damn mouth!  WTH!  I damn near wreck after she tells me but it’s okay, she’s on her cell phone.  I figure she’s calling me from the principal’s office, the back of a squad car, a juvenile detention center or something because I assume she beat the hell out of that little girl.  Hell no, she’s calling me from home!  She got spit on and did nothing about it.  Can you believe that?

I am not one to condone violence as I am not a violent person but….if someone spits on you, BEAT THE HELL OUT OF THEM!  I told my daughter that she should’ve ripped that girl’s arm off and beat her to death with it. 

I had to educate her that spitting on someone is the lowest of lows.  To spit on someone is one of the lowest forms of disrespect.  I would rather someone walk up to me and slap me opposed to spit on me. Spit, I just can’t wrap my head around it.

…..and to top it off, my daughter and the little girl are friends again.  WTH?  Man, I should’ve been bringing her cigarettes, putting money on her books, writing letters to her or something.  Spitting on my lil’ mama should’ve provoked an act of violence that is only matched by a higher authority than me placing restraint on her. We should’ve made the news with me pulling an Antoine Dotson!

Hide your kids, hide your wives, and hide your husbands from little girls that spit.  You can’t hide fool; my daughter has your scent and your DNA in her mouth!  I digress…..

Instead, she’s a damn spitty mess!

Man, she could've slapped her, pinched her, or been just as damn nasty and spit back at the filthy child.  Instead, she needs a damn tetanus shot and I am left wondering where I went wrong.  I guess that’s why I ain’t Cliff Huxtable.        

She’s Not Even a Teenager Yet!

I’ve been a father for a little bit over ten years now but I never would have guessed that I would be a single father. Honestly, I should’ve had this title a lot sooner but I wasn’t ready for the responsibility.  I am the father of a 10 year old girl and as I’m sure as some of you know, it is a challenge.  There was a point when her mother and I actually liked one another but….yeah.  I have toned my resentment for her down quite a bit but in case you need to understand, see the clip below.  (hee, hee, hee)

I gained custody of my lil mama back in August and it is nothing like I imagined.  NOTHING!

Man, this girl is crazy as hell!  She doesn’t like to bathe, comb her damn hair, brush her damn teeth, and to top it off, she got her lil visitor a few months ago.  I may not know what it’s like to go through it but I do know that it is nasty as hell if you don’t take care of stuff.  To her credit, there have been no MAJOR issues in that regard but I have to look at her with the side eye for a week each month.  I’ll digress on that subject…..

I don’t really know why she doesn’t like to brush her damn teeth but I can’t have yuck mouth running around my damn house either.  Breath smelling like butt crack.  What the hell!  I though little girls were supposed to want to smell fresh and be dainty.  Not mine.  She tries to have the dainty part down and she tries to be girly but it isn’t coming off right yet.  She likes fingernail polish and hair bows but she doesn’t like clothes or shoes.  She likes cheerleading and stepping but doesn’t like to comb her hair or iron clothes. Wait, she likes hair accessories but doesn’t like to comb it?   Again, WHAT THE HELL!

We’ve had some moments already and I’ll share those as the posts keep coming.  If not, CPS came and picked my ass up for kicking her in hers!

I haven’t hit her in the throat yet but she’s testing me something serious.  Okay, maybe that is a little harsh but we’re going to go blow for blow if she doesn’t get it together. 

I’m still trying to figure this parenting thing out but one thing is for sure, I ain’t Cliff Huxtable.