pre-k graduation

introducing the spider princess - BOO

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4

Lil Momma turned four this past Sunday. With all this drama with her female parental unit, I didn't know I would see here until last momment. So I trew a party for my Princess in 45 minutes. Enjoy

you not gone leave me are you poppa

As a parent, a father, there is only a few things we desire to see with respect to our children, namely to smile and be happy. Last night I was placed in a difficult position. I was leaving the shop with my son and we stopped by the co-op in our county. It is not like the regular grocery store since they only buy and sell what is provided by farmers and growers I our area. I only stopped to get some prime rib, to cook and some potato bread since we only had one loaf left.

As soon as I turn the corner I saw my daughter and her mother, or should I say my daughter with her Patty Labelle-esque lungs saw me. She let it be known that she saw me calling “Daddy and Biti, I wanna go with daddy” at the top of her lungs. This on one of the days she was with her mother since I teach two Statistics classes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday at a local University. I attempted to calm her down when she asked me to hold her and pick her up, and indicated that she wanted to go with me. I knew that she would not be able to go home tonight and I suspected she did to for she followed me up and down each isle with me, as she asked me “are we going home?”

Now for some reason, my daughter considers my house our house. Well not for some reason, I know why and it is because I have basically raised her our entire life until over the past several months when her mother started to step up to the plate. She since birth has been with me basically every day, morning and night. I potty trained her; I cooked for her and took her to school with me when I taught and even taught classes with her sleep in my arms as I lectured. We were at every baseball, basketball and football game my son had; not to mention with me each day as I was building out my store for dogs.

And although her mother saw her as a burden, and loved to party and hit the streets during the first two and a half years of her life, I do acknowledge that she loves her daughter. But I also must admit that if my daughter had a preference she would not spend one ounce of time with her. That alone saddens me. For she needs her mother as much as she needs her father.

Jones mane, you don’t know how I felt; like a coward, hurrying up to pay for our purchase to get out of the store so my daughter would not see me. As I was at the register, I could still hear her back by the dairy section calling me, saying to the top of her lungs I want my daddy.

By the time I got home, her mother had called. I called her back. She told me that she was still crying and asking for me although I could hear her in the background. As I spoke to her she calmed down a little but any answer short of me not coming to get her then was not gonna be accepted. I told her I would get her the next day and she said “come and get me now poppa, I don’t like mommy’s house, I wanna come home. When you get me, you not gone leave me?”

If I could, I would have preferred to die and kill myself as opposed to hear her pain. In the car my son was even sad, asking why we don’t just take her with us. I had no answer, but I do know now why she hugs be so tight, and grabs me whenever we are together, and more importantly why she always ask “You not gone leave me are you poppa?”

Addendum: Post #600 and If I don’t like and vehemently speak out about the Court Opinions of Clarence Thomas, is that Thomas bashing, and does that mean I am not supporting another black man? If not, why is such called Obama bashing if one disagrees with his policies?

I wanna lay on you daddy/Pop’s I’m running the shop today

Its Sunday and I am, Home today. Usually I would have been at my shop by now, for at least a good 3 hours. Now it is double figures in the morning – something I have not had a chance to wake up in since I started my store for dogs and my son returned back to school.

Little momma woke me up. She scatted out of her room on the other side of the house I can imagine and crawled in my bed. I asked if she was ready to eat and she shook her head in the negative and said, “I just wanna lay on you daddy.” I said ok. She arranged the covers and adjusted the pillows and assumed her spot under my arms laying her head on my shoulder, and as she always does, grabbed my arm and placed it around her. With my arm around her waist and my hand on her stomach, she gently rubbed her hands up and down my arms and whispered “love you so much poppa.” I smiled.

As we returned to slumber again, I received a phone call. It was from my son. “Hey man, where you at Jones?” I asked. He responded, “I’m at the shop pops, you stay at home to day, I’m gonna run the shop for us today. You don’t have to come down, Ill catch the train and ride the bike back home.

All I could do was smile. Nothing like a family business but still better than that, nothing like having the two best kids in the whole wide world. I don’t know what it is about them; maybe it’s the way they call me poppa, or just the way they laugh in their usual uncontrollable manner. I have tried in detail to remember when they have not been able to smile or laugh. I do know I see it when I take lil momma to her mom’s house and it crushes me. And I do know I see it when I tell little man he can’t do something or that he is doing something incorrectly. They so head strong and independent – wonder where they got that from.

They both love being at the shop. My son is the CFO on paper, and makes sales, cleans and counts the loot in the cash register each morning and every night at closing. Lil Momma, COO on paper, is always outside asking folks to “come into my daddy’s store” and passing out the shop’s postcards. She sometimes ask me to be quiet when I am telling folks about the products by saying “let me do it, let me show them.” I like, really love it all, especially when she pretends on her play phone to answer it and always with “Braincell.”

I tell ya folk, especially you men who may read this, gotta get you a number one son and a number one daughter, and even more so, start a family business. I mean, dang, best day I done had in a while, just hearing them two phrases: “I wanna lay on you daddy” and “Pop’s, I’m running the shop today.”

i want the pink one

A woman told me recently, you don’t mess with a daddy’s girl. It made me smile and the simper was so warm that folk here could have burnt the sun. I was hoping she was right and in my optimism got even warmer.

Maybe that why she is the way she is. Why she reaches out for me while in her mother’s embrace, or why when she sees me gazelle like, she jumps in my arms. Or why every times she pretends her phone rings she answers “Brain cell; or sit down with her toy laptop on her legs telling me she ordering dogfood too. Yep, maybe, in the rambunctious recalcitrance she gleams, I just smile and say yes or ok.

So I guess I got the best of both world, guess my sperm work like that. First Born is my number one son. Fellas, gotta get you one of them. Second born, baby girl, fellas you gotta get you one of them too.

Especially the latter, I mean the way she crawls on me, lays her head on my shoulder when she is my arms, even how she sleeps in my lap – can u say the bomb. And I really love it when she say “naw folk, we don’t get down like that” or “nothing jones” or “that’s my song.” So fellas, I don’t know what gives. I mean love your kids, I don’t care if they momma crazy or you crazy. Nurture that spirit which has originated from your loin for love sake, and make no excuse and let no obstacle get in your way for doing such.

Cause if u true, learn to live the love in the experience of buying your baby girl cupcakes with pink icing just because she say “I want the pink ones.” I guess money and the economy aint everything. vote

Raised or spoiled

Point of order:
1] left the shop round 830. A woman was driving in front of me weaving and I could see she was like texting on her phone, I flashed my lights she threw the finger weaved and sped some more and a cop pulled her over. Are folks that stupid? I laughed as I passed her under I20.

2] I slept to 945 today and turned in almost as soon as I got home last night – yum.

3] My folk did a book review and interview on me, im flattered.

Ok, sorry about that, I mean yawl having to deal with the back in forth with a commenter and myself and several others. Any who, on these few days before father’s day, I just wanted to say a few words and offer some blessings to fathers that are putting it down for lack of a better phrase.

See as men, we know the value of family, which means that family and especially our children are the most important tangible asset we have. We know it is not how many cars we drive or how much money we obtain but rather how much time we give providing, nurturing and raising our kids to hopefully become responsible adults.

Too many of our boys do not see this and as a consequence fail to recognize and worse replicate manhood in one form of attribution – being a father. Likewise, too many of our little girls grow up without a father in their household and fail to recognize what role the father plays in said household. For boys, it may manifest in running the streets and never being man enough to be faithful to a single woman or even respecting women as one would their sister or mother. Foe girls, it may manifest itself in that traditional view of I don’t need a man or that their looks and sex is all that defines them.

So you fathers out there, hats off to you. We know it is not a single day but each second of each minute of each hour we receive our reward and understanding of fatherhood. We know that we want to give and spoil all of those under our roof what ever we can even when we cant, but don’t because we know that by spoiling our children, we do a dis-service to our ultimate goal – raising them to be hardworking and responsible adult human beings that never feel sorry for themselves or blame others for the miss steps and bad experiences in their lives. Yep, there is a difference between spoiling a child and raising a child and I would like to think that fathers, who are fathers, know the differences and intentionally shy away from the first. So keep on doing and for those of us who have women in our lives that cant value our role or need, turn the other cheek, for although they may not admit it, God knows what we do is a good thing, something we are supposed to do, and remarkable and for me that reward enough.

ps: props to Ken Griffey Jr on that 600th jack

I want that daddy

Today I crossed the thresh hole of a new world. So staggering it was that it moved me to what I am about to state now. Originally I had toyed with a title called MALES VALENTINE DAY. It was basically a post for the ladies letting them know that for brothers, March Madness is our Valentine’s Day. And that on he start of this day, they should get their men a bottle or a six pack and some chicken wings, as he would Lily’s or pearls on Valentine’s day. Not that I am into ovation pronounced toward ye old Vicar saint, it was an idea I could likely drop a little satire in. But then I realized there were two such days when you add the super Bowl. And women get or should each day and ergo don’t need no nother holiday for them to get shit for free.

I suspect that given my predilection of lascivious activities, I know some of my readers may have their mind in the gutter from the title alone. So now I will apologize for it contains none of he sordid deeds this mind could make into reality.

You know I have a wonderful and adorable little girl. She is the age of parallel play and plain verbal communication. Now she talks, and wont let me even take a phone call with out saying “I wanna talk.” Then she got them Patty Label lungs too.

Walking into the kitchen to fix dinner, she walked over to the Pantry with her fuzzy pink bear house shoes, sliding her feet full of echo to the pantry and pointed. I looked but couldn’t find what she desired for each time I touched something she quickly shook her head and said “no” at the same time. Frustrated she got her stool, went to the back of the cereal box and said, “I want that daddy.”

I froze. First because it was not the cereal, but the picture of the toy on h back of the box; second, because she strategically laced daddy at the end. Now she calls me daddy and poppa. Daddy is the living and walking half monkey bar half chattel that she orders around. Poppa is just some dude she recognizes when I am in photograph form. Not to mention she uses daddy all the time, like by itself, or “daddy hungry too”, “daddy let’s go”, or the ubiquitous “my daddy, daddy mine.” But this time it was “I want that daddy.”

Everyman’s fear fell into my soul. I wondered if she would be able to say them magic words in the future, forever to get what ever she wanted from me? I looked at her and caught myself. I could only deal with now. She talks a mean game, but I took advantage of her inexperience and said no. That was close, I better get ready for the future.

get just released DIRT BEHIND MY EARS; ESSAYS AND SATIRE FROM THE DIRTY today

Father Knows Best

What is the difference between a woman who was raised with a father in their lives versus a woman that had no such influence? I asked myself because as some of you may know, I am the father of a precious little piece of pound cake I named Chianti. In addition to that, I have been involved with a multitude of women and it just dawned on me that those that were the most turbulent and tumultuous were with women who had no fathers in their lives. Let me see if I can explain. My boys, all of which have little girls and I have all come to the general conclusion that our little girls will be alright just for the simple fact that they have active men in the form of fathers in their lives.

We all joke and say things off the cuff about this asserting that they will make fine wives because the look at football, or that they will not want to have some thug fuckboy for a man because they will expect more from a man and know what a man is supposed to be by having an active father.

So I assert that a girl who never sees such, will not know what a man is in character and action, and as such will not know what qualities she should look for and expect from a man and as a result will not know how to treat a man and sustain a meaningful relationship with one. All this is just philosophical conjecture on my part but I do think it has some merit. I mean if the role of a man is to provide, shelter and protect his family, and a man does such, a woman who has never learned that the aforementioned comprise a strong mate, will not know how to reward such actions, and may even complain about such qualities if she if fortunate to find such a person. In fact she may even over look such qualities and take them for granted. Or worse end up with a man that beats and disrespects here on the regular.

I am not saying that women don’t have a role in this – they do. For a girl raised seeing a loving and caring interaction between her mother and father will learn how mates reward each other and take care of each other needs. From a woman, they should learn how to treat a man and keep them happy. However, I feel that girls raised on households with just a mother, may not learn these lessons (just as boys without fathers). Being such, they will add to a more dysfunctional society by not knowing what defines a man, how to select a man, or even how to keep a man. Such people are and will be never satisfied with anything they see in their mate because they will not know what qualities merit respect, value and appreciation. For I woul;d not like her to grow up like the 14yr old girl Akon freaked on stage in. Well, at least the way I see it. But not my little girl, even I have to show or try to show her what a woman is.

i miss coaching little league

I just realized how much I miss coaching little league baseball. Yea, I played baseball my entire life, but I did not know how much I really missed coaching until this week. Over the weekend, I found out that a kid that played in my league, a fine young man that we played against was found murdered along with his cousin in Union City. When I heard the news for the first time, I over looked it namely because I could not fathom that I would know the individuals. I was however saddened that such reckless violence was taking place and that we lost two great futures in the progress.

They say little African American boys are not playing baseball anymore. I know the numbers are dwindling, but I want to disagree. We played baseball at old national and we won. We had several state champions since I was coaching there including my T-Ball team (40-2). I had my boys since they were four and they are 14 now. In addition, we had fun, sub states, districts and the whole nine. My best memory was my 9-10 team beating the best team in our league on a lasting double play hit to my son at second base and his shot to home when the bases were loaded. 5-4 was the final score and they had scored three runs in the last inning until we got the force out and ran off the field. That year we sent 4 teams to the state and 3 of ours to the sub-state.


But last night it really sank in, at the Braves game, sitting behind the dugout with my number one son and number one daughter. I love baseball. And what I liked most about coaching was that it taught young men: to depend on teammates and work with others (because you cannot bat every time nor can you play each position at the same time). But what I remember most, other than the dugout chatter “we got em scared now”, was what I always told them. “Anybody can be an athlete, but you all have to be scholars, gentleman and athletes in that order. Rest in peace Delarlonva Mattox.

Trick or Treat

Yo, I am a father. I have the greatest son any man could ask for and recently, I added a daughter to the fold – not like she a yearling or something, but rather my newest clan member. I love the both to death and I have fears for both as well, but the fears I have for my son are completely different and not as scary as those I have contrived to develop for my daughter. Namely because as a man, you can accept some things as being inevitable, in particular as an Africa American man. But my daughter, I am just afraid to think.

With the new focus of our individualistic culture, I am afraid that my daughter will value something other than herself as being the most important commodity she has. As it stands, with videos and music, women are nothing more than hoes. Even in the movies, television soaps we see the same imagery. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m the kind of man who liked hoes, tricks, freaks, and bitches and unfortunately, via my south Memphis up-bringing referred to them as such. Even in the understanding that I did not regard the women in my family (with the exception one cousin) as being this way.


Now with a daughter, I am scared. I am scared that she will turn out to be one of these women who defines a man by how much money he has, or more specifically, how much money he will spend on her. I am afraid that if a man offers here a few hundred dollars, or a purse, she will get on her knees and service him orally. I’m afraid that she may end up doing something and selecting a man that may result in her being in a porn movie or worse, dead along some remote rural highway. Dang, I never thought being a father was so hard, but when you have little girls, it’s an entirely different picture. I just hope she will not be a trick, but rather a treat. Guess her mother and I got a ot of work in front of us.