I don’t get into political talk much with people… it’s just one of those things. BUT I do support the Human Rights Campaign as I do believe that everyone deserves equal rights. I almost feel it hypocritical for “my people” (blacks) to tell say… GLBT (gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender) individuals . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: Open Letter to Target & Best Buy from the HRC]]>

I don’t get into political talk much with people… it’s just one of those things. BUT I do support the Human Rights Campaign as I do believe that everyone deserves equal rights. I almost feel it hypocritical for “my people” (blacks) to tell say… GLBT (gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender) individuals that it’s not okay to be who they are when blacks fought through slavery and continue to fight to be seen as equals.

Anyway, apparently, Target & Best Buy recently donated over $250,000 to a political committee supporting a rabidly anti-equality candidate for Governor of Minnesota, where both are headquartered – a man with ties to a Christian rock band that advocates violence and death to gays.

Now y’all know I love me some Target. Over-priced as they are, it’s one of my favorite stores. Though I have forsaken them for WalMart in lieu of WalMarts lower prices, I still love to browse around in Target from time-to-time… BUT this is not okay Target. Come on.

The Human Rights Campaign has created an open letter to Target & Best Buy:

An Open Letter to Target and Best Buy

When lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender consumers – not to mention our millions of supportive friends and family members – used to think about Target and Best Buy, we saw two shining examples of corporations that respected the equality and dignity of every American.

Now, Americans are questioning their loyalty to your brands with word of significant contributions to the political committee MN Forward that hopes to install one of the most strident opponents of equality in the Minnesota Governor’s mansion. The long-term effects on families that shop at Target and Best Buy throughout Minnesota and the U.S. will be devastating.

It’s time to make things right. The very least you can do to begin rebuilding your image among fair-minded consumers is to make equivalent donations to groups that support candidates who will put all Minnesota families first and fulfill the promises of our highest ideals.

We’re watching and we’re waiting.

Click here to see the full text of the open letter.

—-

If you feel so inclined, you can sign the above letter by clicking here.

You can also raise awareness about this by spreading the word on your Twitter page or Facebook page.

No one is perfect, but there is always an opportunity to make matters right, starting with a sincere apology.

My belief is that everyone will meet their maker at the end of their days, is it my job while here on Earth to judge them and point the finger? If I’m living my life incorrectly, I guess I’ll find out on my dying day.

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But black folks, you know that sooo many of us have made that joke about black people not being serial killers- that stuff is for white folks.

?

The . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: Serial Killing- It Ain’t Just for White Folks Anymore]]> Okay, I know I’m stereotyping.

But black folks, you know that sooo many of us have made that joke about black people not being serial killers- that stuff is for white folks.

?

The other night I was watching Nightline, don’t ask me why. I don’t have any business watching the news- I’ll tell you why in another post- but there was a report about a Maryland serial killer recently charged.

Two mother-daughter pairs murdered in the same year.

What blows my mind about this case was his precision. Deactivating the alarm system in one of his victim’s home, using the UPS database to find these women.

Think about what kind of information there is in the UPS database about you besides the names and phone numbers of the people that live in the house. What type of shipments you receive- is it lots of toys? clothes? tools? That’s why I have a P.O. Box for the review site, but unfortunately, so many companies prefer FedEx and UPS… I’m assuming it’s because of pricing, but I don’t know.

I think about shit like that in relation to Baby C. Do I put too much out there about her on my blog that some weird ass pedophile can use to manipulate her in the future (in regards to her likes and dislikes)? I hope not.

Anyway. Off on a tangent there.

Serial Killing ain’t for white folks anymore y’all. So we need to stop telling that joke. This is the second main stream black serial killer I’ve heard about (the D.C. sniper included), but I’m sure there’s more out there. And if you look at this dude’s picture- he just looks crazy y’all.

That’s why everyone is suspect in my book. It may be the Brooklyn girl in me, but I’ve seen enough to know that you can’t trust anyone. When I say everyone is suspect, I mean everyone. Sometimes a stranger will say something to me and the abrasiveness with which I respond to them throws my so-nice-ever-so-trusting-Mid-West-born-and-bred husband off guard.

“Honey!” (he usually says)

I mean this is the man who gave the woman in the Wal-Mart parking lot asking for money to pay her rent $5.

Me? I’m like:

A. Don’t get to close to me

B. I don’t want what you’re selling

C. Me Too! (That’s usually my response) or You and everybody else! For example, when they say:

- Times are hard for me (Me Too! or You and everybody else!)
- I got kids ((Me Too! or You and everybody else!))
- I can’t find a job (Me Too! or You and everybody else!)

Arm yourself with those two phrases, they will serve you well. I don’t mind helping other people out, but I can’t give every dime to every person I see. Come on.

The point of the above rant is: The state of our nation and economy is putting a lot of pressure on a lot of people and driving them to do extreme things, especially if basic needs like having food and water cannot be met.

Some people, though, like this serial killer dude are just crazy right out of the gate.

It’s sad that we have to have our guard up at all times, but it is what it is.

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MY DAUGHTER. Ok. So I love the little bugger to pieces. Because she’s cute as a button, as people say. But…is a button really that fucking cute? I never looked at a pair of jeans and was all, “Shit! I’ma buy these bitches because they have the cutest buttons in the . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: What is deafening, damaging, and makes me want to kill myself?]]>

MY DAUGHTER. Ok. So I love the little bugger to pieces. Because she’s cute as a button, as people say. But…is a button really that fucking cute? I never looked at a pair of jeans and was all, “Shit! I’ma buy these bitches because they have the cutest buttons in the history of ever!”

In reality, buttons are pains in the asses. They fall off, get stuck, you’re too drunk to be able to successfully maneuver it into its hole, yeah. I don’t think they’re cute. It’s a fucking button for God’s sake.

Now, here we have my button. She’s got a cheesy grin, likes to play Peek-a-boo, tries to bite electrical cords and if she thinks I’m not watching, she’s going for the litter box for sure. She knows the word, “NO.” But she thinks I’m kidding. Like, she’ll stop and look at me with a “Bitch, you don’t really think you have the authority to talk to me like this, do you?” look on her face. And the minute my eyes are not giving her the mommy stare, she’s all, “That’s what I thought.” And thinks that gives her the right to keep at it.

This is where I pretend to get up and “NO” her even louder. This results in frustrating fake crying complete with the worst thing in the word:

THE SQUEAL.

Kid’s got it down pat. She knows I can’t take it because it is so loud and deafening and scary because I am convinced that the neighbors are going to report me for child abuse because this kid screams like I’m trying to cook her in the oven like the chicken she is. (Yes, Chicken is my nickname for her.) This makes me scramble to make her stop and I swear I would give her a year’s supply of Pixie Stix if that’s what it would take for her not to try to alert the authorities. Because guaranfuckingteed, the minute they walk in is when she gets all shy and acts like the perfect little angel-baby with long eyelashes and an innocent smile that could launch a thousand ships and they’re all, “HOW COULD YOU ABUSE THAT POOR CHILD!” And then they take her and give her to her tranny daddy and she really screws up her life at less than a year old.

Case in point: my mother. She swears that every time she has her, she is as perfect as perfect does. I’m all, “ARE YOU SERIOUS? She doesn’t yell at you and boss you around and try to smack you across your face and throw food at you?” And she says “Nope. She’s as good as gold.”

Whatthefuckever. I run in circles for her on a daily basis. She’s already got me wrapped around her little finger. She knows what buttons to push and exactly how to get what she wants with me. She fools the rest of the crowd and behind closed doors the little devil inside her oozes out of every pore.

Example: I took her to the toy store today to try and let her pick stuff out for her first birthday. You know what she did to everything, including anything Mickey Mouse Clubhouse *which she normally WORSHIPS?* Smacked at it and whined and cried. And I’m pretty sure I heard, “Giiiiiiirl, you think you can come at me with these cheap toys? You know I’m better than this. We’ll talk when you take me into Tiffany & Co. and lavish me in diamonds and platinum.”

*sigh*

You know what though? As much as the kid yells at me, abuses me, and successfully attempts to make me her bitch, I will tell you the reason this is happening right now:

She is a complete replica of me. And hissy fits, tantrums, and the dreaded SQUEAL aside…I wouldn’t trade this button for anything in the world.

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Image borrowed from hwnt.org

So, I get a phone call last week from the lovely people of the United States Census… I think it took like 30-45 minutes of my time. (Like I have anything else to be doing, right?)

They said they wanted to follow-up with me regarding . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: When People See You- What Race Do They Think You Are?]]>

Image borrowed from hwnt.org

So, I get a phone call last week from the lovely people of the United States Census… I think it took like 30-45 minutes of my time. (Like I have anything else to be doing, right?)

They said they wanted to follow-up with me regarding the answers that I put on my Census form. Honestly, I feel bad for that poor woman that had to call people and ask them the most ridiculous and inappropriate questions- ever!

She asked me to verify things like how many people live in my household, our ages, race and everything else that I already answered on the doggone Census in the first place.

Then I was told that she wanted to ask me more questions about only my daughter and myself… I guess my husband wasn’t good enough to get asked the in-depth questions ’cause he’s just “Caucasian” and apparently that race is self-explanatory in this country.

So here are the type of questions I was asked:

• Am I Hispanic, Pacific Islander, Asian (and a bunch of other races that I can’t remember)
  No
• When people look at me do they ever think that I am: Asian, Hispanic, Pacific Islander (and on & on)
  Laugh OUT LOUD- No
• What race do I consider myself to be? Black, African-American (are they different?)
  Black
  Then she started asking me stuff about being Haitian or African and I said you guys really confuse me regarding what kind of information you are trying to collect. Do you want to know my race or my ethnic background because to me- those two things are different.If, in fact, you want to know my ethnic background, then I am 100% Jamaican. If you are looking for my race, I call myself black.
  
• You say you are Jamaican- where was your mother born?
  Jamaica
  
  And your father?
  EnglandSo he’s British?
  (Super frustrated that I have to give family history- what is this? School?)
  Not really, my grandmother was there for school. He is Jamaican as well.
  
• So you consider yourself Jamaican?
  **Sigh** I am Jamaican- ethnically- that is the culture that I was raised in. That is where a great deal of my family still lives. But I am an American, I was born here. I live here. Blah, blah, blah
• And your daughter, you said she is multi-racial?
  She is bi-racial, yes.
• What race is her father?
  He is white, Caucasian- whatever
• She asked me something about his ethnic background
  I don’t know. He’s got all kinds of stuff in his family. Italian, Swiss, Austrian, but he more identifies with his Italian side, so he’s Italian? I guess… (WTF?!)
• I know you said your daughter is only one, but when she is older, what race do you think she will identify with?
  Uhh, I haven’t thought that far in the future to be honest with you. I really don’t think my daughter should have to explain to anyone what race she is- it’s no one’s business. She will be raised knowing that she is bi-racial and I guess when she gets older, maybe she will form her own opinion regarding what race she wants to “identify” with. She will be raised knowing that she is to embrace both races.
• For the purposes of the Census, though, I need to write an answer
  So you can write down exactly what I just said to you.
  
• When people look at your daughter, what race do you think they think she is?
  Laugh Out Loud (more out of frustration) Are you serious?!?!

I mean, I could go on. We were on the phone for a while and I know she was just doing her job, but really United States Government, really?

I wonder if Barack Obama had to answer these invasive questions- he is, after all, multi-racial as well.

This is absolute bullshit and can be added to the list of “dumb ass shit that our government does.”  What does it matter? Are we trying to figure out where all of the black folks are so we can keep them in check? Are they trying to keep track of how many multi-racial/interracial/bi-racial children are being born so that they can keep tabs on them?

And why ask about what people think my child is when they look at her? Are they curious as to whether or not my child will “pass”?

What next?

Are they gonna start asking about our job status and how people treat us?

Now, I know I am saying most of this out of frustration and so some of my thoughts may seem ignorant. I guess, I just don’t. understand. Why they think they can ask you these things and why they didn’t ask me the same questions about my white husband?

Do people ever think your husband is Asian, Pacific Islander, Hispanic or Black when they look at him?

I think if they asked that question about my white husband they would see a. how ridiculous of a question it is and b. they’d be surprised to know that almost the entire time we lived in Florida, people would come up to him and start speaking Spanish- a lot of people think he’s Mexican or somethin’. I think it’s the awesome tan he develops from being an outdoor worker!

Okay, I’m done with my rant. Carry on.

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Image borrowed from Central Mall’s (OK) Website

When you go out with your children, who’s responsible for them?

You, right?

I would think so- they’re your kids.

So riddle me this- why is it that some parents think that they can just take their children to the indoor play . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: Who’s Responsible?]]>

Image borrowed from Central Mall’s (OK) Website

When you go out with your children, who’s responsible for them?

You, right?

I would think so- they’re your kids.

So riddle me this- why is it that some parents think that they can just take their children to the indoor play areas in the mall and let them run wild. Here’s my gripe about that stuff:

1. There are height restrictions- your teenager should not be in there jumpin’ and hoppin’ around the padded play area. There are little toddlers trying to play in there! They shouldn’t have to worry about being knocked over by a fourteen year old. Why are these kids even in there? I realize that some are unaccompanied- they meet up with their friends and walk around the mall. They should know better than to be in there… I guess the key word there is should.

2. You’re sitting in there chattin’ with your friends, Tweeting, Texting, Facebooking, surfing the net- whatever you are doing and not once do you look up at your kid! Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you! If you looked up for five. seconds. you would have seen your (obviously bigger than mine) kid trying to push my daughter off of the slide with her feet. Really?

You would’ve seen your son grab my daughter around the waist and try to bodyslam her off of one of the foam toys.

Now, on another day I may have gotten pushy, but I kindly swooped my daughter up in both instances and redirected her to a new toy.

See, I try not to intervene, because I know that children need this kind of social interaction to learn what their peers do and do not like… it’s like recess at school. They learn how to interact with one another. But when my child is too young to verbalize that she doesn’t want you trying to push her off the slide. When she thinks that every other person around her height is a friend. When she is so overjoyed at the fact that she’s even in the doggone play area to give two shits about whether another kid is trying to rough her up…. that’s when I step in.

I saw one parent’s son blatantly push another little girl from the top of the foam play tower. His mom marched right over to him, grabbed him up- they had a talk, then he went over and apologized. I’m no expert parent, Baby C being my first, but I liked that she made him say sorry. I would think that I would explain to Baby C why doing that is not appropriate and then ask her (make her?) apologize as well.

What do you think about parents who bring their kids to play and then completely ignore what their child is doing?

And do we need mall play area monitors to keep the ever-so annoying, obviously too big to be playing in this area, kids out?

Let me know.

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There is nothing I like more than when a . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: New Look, No Friends]]> If you read regularly, you know that after my WordPress 3.0 upgrade, the site went wonky. My previous theme (you know, the background with the coffee cup, iPhone, etc.) went all crazy, it wouldn’t accept comments and error messages were running rampant. Ugh.

There is nothing I like more than when a company does an “upgrade” and everything goes haywire.

Not. Cool.

So I stayed up last night ’til midnight trying to fix my site. I briefly explained what was happening and after a lot of trial-and-error, I finally settled on the theme (background) you see now. It may not be as snazzy as my last theme, but it’s simple, clean and easy to use and alter. That’s my kinda theme.

Also, I hate when I visit a website and there’s like eight million things going on… things moving really quickly, scrolling, flashing pictures- it’s a complete overload and you don’t know where to look first. I need a clean look that people can read easily.

In the midst of the WordPress 3.0 shennanigans, I lost all of my Google Friends A-GAIN. 86 of you were feelin’ me and I’m back down to zero. It’s ridiculous.

Technology. We have a total love-hate relationship.

I’m not gonna beg y’all to Google Friend Connect me again. The numbers are only a visual reminder to me of the people I’m writing for. I know I have followers and I SO appreciate you constantly coming back and humoring me by reading the stuff I write.

SO If you wanna re-follow me, go ahead, if you’re like “will this girl get her shit together and stop losing her Google Friends,” I completely understand.

I put the Google Friend Connect here in the left sidebar (YUP… movin’ up in the world, I have a LEFT sidebar now too).

So, I hope you like the new look. Still the same ol’ girl. Just consider it a paint change on the walls in the room. White walls suit me well anyway… isn’t that what color the walls are in the crazy house?

Yeah….

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And because my daughter enjoys doing everything over the top, “no” doesn’t come out as a one-word phrase, but rather, like this: “no-no-no.” Every. Single. Time- no exceptions.

“No-No-No”

“No-No-No”

Would . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: No, Two Word Sentences and Potty Updates]]> Baby girl learned how to say “no” on Monday. It has just been such a joyous occasion! (Please sense the sarcasm)

And because my daughter enjoys doing everything over the top, “no” doesn’t come out as a one-word phrase, but rather, like this: “no-no-no.” Every. Single. Time- no exceptions.

“No-No-No”

“No-No-No”

Would you like to join in on the “No” party? Of course you would:

I can just see my friend Jill cracking up right now at the sight (and sound) of this video. Go ahead Jill… laugh.

Baby girl has also started using two-word sentences (well, not really sentences, but you know).

The other day I was talking to the Hubs on the phone and while she is always trying to call China on the phone, when you actually put the phone to her ears when someone’s on it and try to get her to speak? She gets all shy- uh, you are not shy.

Anyway, I put the phone to her ears and I’m all like “Say bye-bye to Daddy… Can you tell Daddy bye-bye?” And won’t you believe it- God bless her little heart- in her tiniest voice she goes

“Bah- bye Da-da”

OMG I almost died! It was so. cute. And now? That’s the two word sentence of the moment- “Bah-bye Da-da.”

Aaand Potty Training- who invented this? I saw a tweet today that sums up my feelings of potty training:

I mean this child was walking around the house the other day with no diaper on when I realized- it had been almost two hours and she had yet to pee.

My daughter pisses like a race horse and she usually pees every 30 minutes or so. I put her on the potty- nothin. And what does she do like five minutes after getting off the potty? Pees on my kitchen floor, looks at me, says uh-ooooh then walks over to the potty. REALLY baby girl? Really? It’s too late. We don’t walk over to the potty after we pee. You pee in the potty.

So I know that she knows how to hold it.

We went three days this week without her peeing in the potty. She peed on the carpet, on the tile, no potty.

Yesterday, she goes, with her goldfish- sits on the potty and pees.

Yay! Wahoo!

Mommy does a major congratulatory dance for her- gives her a treat.

And that was it.

That’s all I got. Today- nada. No pee on the potty.

Sigh.

Why? Why? Just pee in the friggin’ potty. Come on!

Major fail.

Potty training is wack.

The end.

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