TO BE OR NOT TO BE

No one said that having children and raising them was going to be easy, but no one said it was going to be this hella hard either!  Especially when you find yourself doing the job all by yourself.  So naturally, years ago when I found myself doing the job of two people all by myself,(no offense to my village family) I was a little resentful.  As much as I hate the term "baby mamma" and try to deny it, I am by definition a "baby mamma."  I define "baby mamma" as someone who had or have a baby for a man they are not marry to or in a committed relationship with. But don't take my word for it,  ask around and see what you find out.

My first baby daddy whom I was married to briefly turned out to be crazy,(details for a later date) so I had to leave him.  Naturally during the course of our relationship we decided together that we wanted children, but as soon as the divorce papers were signed he started playing hide-and-seek until eventually he ceased to exist.  Although, my current situation is a hell of a lot different then my previous situation, I still consider myself to be a "baby mamma" because we are not married nor do we live together. And honestly I don't see marriage in our future anytime soon.  But that's not to say marriage is not in the cards. 

Fortunately two of my kids are now teenagers and can pretty much take care of themselves.  Certainly after many years of letting my eggs go to waste I pretty much gave up on the idea of ever having another baby. Until, yes, one day I met a nice man who had a nice smile and smelled good. Well, you know the rest. Needless to say, as if the first time was easy breezy I now have a new baby and starting all over again.

Of course as usual the week flew by quickly and in between changing diapers, three AM feedings and wiping throw up off my clothes I managed to catch up with friends and family. I had a good laugh with my friend T, (not a baby mamma) who went off and gave me an ear full for sending her yet another piece on being "Single." She reminded me not so eloquently (I might add) that there are more important things around the world that should be a conversation. But instead we are busy discussing the same issues that are recycled in the media every other month, like being single. In other words, "Who the F#@K cares!" Right? Note to self, don't tell her to watch Miss Advised a new series coming on Bravo this month. 

Then I caught up with my sister D,( a baby mamma)the Teacher and after we talked briefly about my niece Princess (not her real name) she filled me in in a day in the life of a Teacher.  Of course I am always shock and can't never get over the shenanigans that these children are allow to get away with.  Next I spoke with my Mom (married too long) who always starts our conversation with, "I left you a message, why didn't you call me back before I left the house?"  As if she can't talk on her cellphone while walking or shopping or whatever she is doing at the time.  And always our conversation ends with, "please tell one of your ungrateful children to bring back my plastic bowls." Despite that, I realized suddenly that it had been awhile since my Mother and I had a disagreement over my parenting style. Must be age and the fact that I am beginning to have a deeper appreciation for her. KNOCK on woods!

Eventually the weekend came and I find myself stuck on Facebook posting videos of my baby.  Yes, I am starting to be one of those Mothers. And updating my status every chance I get. 

So there you have it, full disclosure, nothing left unsaid. Until next time, you can find me at http://peoplearetalking.webs.com
where I invite you to join in Girl Talk. Or follow me on twitter. 

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DEBATE: Can Women Really Be Happy Single?

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/06...

When Tracy McMillan published her blog post "Why You're Not Married" on The Huffington Post in February 2011, she received ample criticism for telling single women that they were flying solo because they were "shallow," "selfish" and "not good enough." Though she couldn't have known it at the time, …