UffdaBlack – Adventures in Parenting
A diary of a black man raising kids in a place he never thought he would call home…
Watching the neighborhood lady’s weekly Lularoe live with the more fashion-literate daughter while listening to her “Oohs” and “aaahs” over the Joys and Carlys.
What? You ladies thought I was watching by myself?
🤷🏾♂️👚👗📞
At the Father/Daughter Dance this weekend, I taught my youngest daughter:
The Cupid Shuffle,
The Words to “Brown Eye Girl”,
The “Cotton Eye Joe” Dance, and
How to two step to a country song.
She was impressed,
then sickened,
then indifferent,
then mortified (she tried to run as far away from the dance floor as possible).
Oh, little girl. We are both going to give each other a run for our money!
…that first time your daughter inadvertently smacks you in the junk and you go through these stages:
Shock – she #%+ing hit me!
Anger – she almost met God.
Pain – you try not to cry in front of her.
Remorse – as you rock back and forth and your stomach starts to ache.
Determination – not to slip out of consciousness.
Relief – and the realization that you actually called her unsavory names in your head.
We are at swimming lessons.
Daddy forgot the towels.
It is negative flippin’ cold outside.
Therefore, Daddy does not want to get the towels, but wants to give them his sweatshirt to dry off with.
Hmmmm…..
Stop it, I got the towels.
Afro1 got candy at gymnastics. In my usual fashion, I am attempting to get it from her:
“How much do you love your father?”
“A whole bunch!”
“Then I can have that candy, right?”
(pause) “Ooh — tough choice.”
Talking to the girls about our trip this summer:
Heather: You know what? We are going to go in an airplane!
Afro1: Whoa!
Afro2: Can I give the ticket to the conductor?
Heather: The pilot.
Me: The stewardess.
A2: The conductor!
Me: The stewardess.
A2: Conductors can be anywhere!
D&H: What?
A2: A band! They can be on a train, and in a band…
D: Band?
A2: Yeah!
H: Symphony.
D: Oh.
Drink Please!
Accomplishments vs. Realities of being a man (so far):
1. “I am 18, I am a man.” vs. receiving a selective service card and knowing what it actually means.
2. “I have my own apartment, I am a man!” vs. “Why the hell is the food bill so high? I just bought condiments!”
3. “I married this woman, I am a man!” vs. The wife: “No one gives a damn about your past accomplishments.” “Your decorating skills suck.” “You smell.” “Oh that looks nice — in the crawl space.” Etc.
4. “Look at my first born. It is only the best for her (him)!” vs. “24 newborn diapers = $25.00 — 10 size-4 diapers = $25.00. How does that work?
5. “I have a family, I am a man!” vs. “Life insurance? A will? You mean I am going to die at some point?”
6. “My kid is going to dominate at sports!” vs. “How much for (pick a sport/activity/lesson)? My kid isn’t even that good!”
7. “I am going to work to support my family, I am a man!” vs. Daycare bill. (Note: My children attend a very good daycare and I am not above a giving a plug — for a discount (unlikely)).
8. “Look at this house! I have all of this play area for my child.” vs. “Now how in the hell do I fix that?”
8a. “Look at this house! I have all of this play area for my child.” vs. The wife :“Whelp, we are pregnant with number 2, and we need a bigger house.”
9. “Look at this paycheck! I have made so much money!” vs. “Look at this paystub! This can’t be all of the money!”
I think I’ve just depressed myself.
Being deemed “The Best Daddy Ever” by my daughters, but realizing that just yesterday I was deemed “unfair” and “unloving.”
If one day’s grace is what I get, I’ll take it.
How I got through the day with my sanity intact:
Step one: pick up neighborhood kids. It does not matter which kids; it may be random. Pick up as many that can legally fit in your car, or van, or SUV. Shit, contemplate renting a bus.
Step two: throw your infant in the back with random kids so you can drive around while they go sledding/skating/hockey playing in nearest park. You will get to know the neighborhood extremely well; may be a little too well. Say statements to yourself like, what in the Sam Hell were they thinking painting that house that color?
Step three: Drive around in circles so that your infant may sleep. Do you have to pee? Oh well, that’s called sacrifice. Am I wasting gas? A better question is, is my kid sleeping? Yes! We call that success.
Step four: Let your wife run errands and go shopping with just one kid; let her pick which kid. She will think it is Christmas all over again! You will redeem yourself for the shitty jewelry you picked out in past Christmases. Yes Heather, I know you did not like it.
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