Raise Your Own Damn Kids

So the creator of Girls went on this tangent about how Rihanna is breaking her heart by getting back with Chris Brown (allegedly but I don’t think they confirmed that shit).

I haven’t seen Girls. I’ll put that out there in case in matters.

Look. Seriously. Look. This is a PUBLIC figure. No one public figure’s hold over your child should be any tighter on your child than your own. Or someone close to you that you approve of who might have more in common with your kid. Honestly though, someone you’ve never met and will probably never meet should not hold that much influence over your kid.

Y’all remember Jenelle from Teen Mom 2 wailing and lamenting about Ke$ha? No?

Don’t let that be your fucking kid dude! Don’t. Do. It.


46 Days and I’m Not Sure What I’m Doing

So. Yeah. That’s how I feel. This is all sorts of fucked up and not for me and I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into. I dunno. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed. That’s probably a large part of it.

Monkeys and Watermelon

So sometimes I don’t ask the questions I want the answers to. Which is horrible of me because how can I get fulfillment if I don’t ask? How will I know? I’ll just be left wondering forever. No bueno.

So I was talking to a friend the other day and both her kids are interracial. I brought up the fact that I wasn’t sure about buying Bambina outfits with monkeys or watermelon slices on them. She gave me that look (you know the one you give your friends when they’re being nuts) and said put my kid in whatever. It made me examine not only why I felt like that but why I chose to share that with her in particular because I know that sounds crazy which is why up until this point I’d only shared this with my momma. I don’t know anything about being interracial. I know my relationship with my husband has been challenged because we’re interracial and I know my baby is likely to be challenged in some situations but I don’t know what it’s like. I just know it’s very likely coming. And I realized that’s what was bothering me. I love her SO much already. Like…little Bambina is SO important to me. I don’t want her feeling hurt ever. I don’t want her to ever be disappointed. (I know this is unreasonable.) I just want to make sure I have the tools to help her be safe and happy.