The topic of the day: Complaining about yo BD (Baby Daddy)
Me personally, I would like to start off by saying that if you have a baby with a man that’s not with you or willing to be with you, you fucked up off top. Any man that’s ok with being a Baby Daddy is a nigga you don’t really want to fuck with. Depending on how the situation occurred. Now let me speak on the subject a bit. A baby daddy is a man that you either were sleeping with or slept with and as a result of that you became pregnant. This man had or has no intentions of being with you in any way other than sexually. There are some situations where this is best, but often it’s not. If you as a female decided to lay down with this man and have his child you have NO RIGHT to complain. If he don’t come around as much as you want him to, doesn’t spend time with your child like you think he should, doesn’t spend money on the child like you wish he would, well sorry sweetheart this is what happens when you have no standards for yourself. STOP COMPLAINING! Get up, get a job (if you don’t have one), go to school (if you don’t already) and spend more time focusing on your child than on the no good nigga that helped you to create him/her. If you spend your day complaining about what he is or isn’t doing, how will you have time to do anything? Now that baby got 2 lazy ass, no good parents. If that guy aunt stepping up to the plate, get a DNA test and send the results to the Friend of the Court and make that nigga pay his dues and set up visitation. You got to focus on what you need to do. It’s sad to say it but you may have to do it alone. If that is the case then suck it up, stop complaining and make it happen for your baby. Raising him/her to be a bitter person and to hate his/her dad won’t help. You’ll be holding on to a grudge that you can’t change. Let it go, let him go, and drop that stress as well. You’ll feel better at the end of the day. Once you start taking care of your business and your baby you won’t have time to think about what the daddy isn’t doing. You’ll be proud of yourself for doing it on your own and your child will respect you more than he/she will if they have to grow up in a house with a bitter woman complaining all day and don’t have anything going for herself. So STOP COMPLAINING about the shit you can’t change and stop making a fuss over a nigga you knew wasn’t about that life from jump. If he was, ya’ll would have been more than just late night fuck buddies. #ImJustSaying
Tune in next Sunday night for our next discussion: How To Remain Faithful (Men’s Edition) Yes fellas I got some for you too. Comment if you would like me to address a certain topic and #HelpTheseBitchesOut. Also FMOT @LemonDropTeTe or @SimplyPrincessT and look out for my daily #HelpTheseBitchesOut tweets starting tonight. Also follow my partner in crime @Zoies_Auntie she’ll be helping out with the blog as well. Thanks in advance. Love ya, tootles. :-)
I swear sometimes I wake up and smile just knowing that the good I give off in life is paying me back ten full. I have been blessed in many ways and others may not see it but its clear to me. The smile I wear lately is a pure one. I smile because I am totally happy. Inside me is growing the child that I know has turned so much around for me. For that I am thankful. My family and friends have been more supportive than anyone could ask for. They have been in my corner when I’m up and when I’m down. They have stood by me through all my decisions. Even those that they thought I shouldn’t have made. When I left my apartment my mom welcomed me in with open arms and didn’t judge for one second. Now that I am ready to go back out again on my own she doesn’t even want me to go. My friends are right behind me. My real friends that is. They are there to offer advice and company and to keep me in good spirits. Emotionally I am better than I ever been, spiritually I am making my way back closer to God, physically my body is still in shape but growing bigger with my child. All together I feel so good and blessed. I count my blessing and get lost in them. So I thank God because he gave me so much happiness.
In life you always need that one friend that will never let you down. That friend that has your back through thick and thin. That one person who will be by your side even when your against yourself. Because the world is harsh. We fall down, we get up, we laugh and we cry. But the person in your life who was there at every point is the person you can count on. I am that person. I am that friend that will be there to hold you down at all times. My friends know this because its proven. But will all of my friends be there for me? Are they the types of people I can count on for all moments in life good or bad? I hope so. But if they aren’t then I shalt not worry for God is always there to hold me. But I would like to know. Would you be there for me? No matter what?
I remember when I was 9 there was this little boy that lived down the street from me. He was a sad little child. I always tried to play with him and make him smile or laugh, but he wouldn’t. I just wanted to play with him and try to bring him some type of joy, but it never worked. So one day I was walking past and I heard him cry out “HELP ME” And I knew it was his voice, so I ran to find help. No one was home with us except my uncle Jr who was only a young teen at the time, but he had to help. He said to just call the police but he was NOT getting involved. So I did. I called the police and knocked on my neighbors door after doing so. His father came out. He was sweating. I no longer heard the cries,I figured he was sweating from beating the person who’d harmed his child. But on the contrary, he was sweating from doing the harm himself. When the police finally arrived, no one was there to answer the door. I was too young to know what had happened and didn’t find out until later that year. Dink’s, the child was called Dink, mother had come home one day and caught his father raping him. She went crazy and killed her boyfriend. She called the police and the ambulance. Dink and his mother went away for a looong time after that. I never understood why his father would do such a thing. I don’t know for sure what came of their family. And sometimes I wonder if the Dink I met in high school is that very young boy I met when I was 9. But I know that the memory would be too much for him to bear. But I do know that his mother is a single parent and that his father is dead. I don’t know if that’s any indication but Detroit is a very small city. And Dink still doesn’t smile very much, so if it is him, I’m sure God sent him back to me for a reason. Thats why I keep him close at hand.
Sex, adultery, lust, passion, and all other words connected to porn. But addiction is the word most commonly used in association with porn. My question is where is the line crossed between watching and being addicted? People define addiction to drugs and alcohol as the inability to cease use, or the denial of over use. Some people even define the addiction of drugs and alcohol as needing more and more and higher quality of the drug or alcohol to achieve a certain “high”. But tell me, how does one get “high” or “drunk” off of porn? What is more or higher quality of porn? What is the inability to cease use? Substance drug abuse is known as addiction. How do you abuse the use of porn? How is porn “used” at all? People don’t ”use” porn. They watch it. Even if they watch it in abundance that doesn’t mean they are addicted to it. Porn critics say that its degrading or distasteful to watch and or make porn. I don’t see it that way. If you are in tune with your sexuality and you want to exploit it then that is your own right. You cant tell a person not to make videos of their children doing good at sports games and show it off to friends and family. They are proud of their achievements. People who make porn feel the same way. SO whats the difference? Porn, addiction, over use, abuse, all this really doesn’t define anything except social America’s way of trying to prohibit people from having a happy healthy sex life.
"There is really no line to cross. How can one determine the line of addiction of porn?” - Tabitha Reed
As life moves on I seem to understand when my mother used to always tell me "Tisha, you should think more before you act." And I would always get confused and wonder what she was talking about. But now that I am older I know exactly what she means. She was saying that I should think before I do. To understand what the actions consisted of and what could come of them before I committed the actual act. And with out even knowing it my mother had tainted me. I now over think every thing before I get the chance to do anything. And I realize that I miss out on more than I gain. We need certain experiences in life. Whether good or bad, we need them. So I say "Don’t think, just do."
The feeling I get when I’m around those who truly love me and I’m sure that I can be the quirky person that I am with no judgments. I love knowing that my family and friends accept me exactly the way I am.
I know that we all must struggle in order to achieve greatness, but nowhere in the manual of life did I see that we must make the life of others miserable to be happy within our own. I smile and laugh and joke all day even when I’m stressed because I know that there is more to life than what meets the eye. I have an inside joke with God. I tell him that in life you gotta hit me with more than pain to hurt me because your love will heal all wounds. Sometimes I could swear the sun gets a littl brighter every time I say this to the sky. SO I say what could I be missing in lfe as long as I have the happiness which he so freely gives us all? Poor or rich, are we really missing out if we are happy in our lives?
“If I say more than what you wanna hear then close up your ears and walk away,I talk to myself all day anyhow. Lol. Otherwise listen up and hold all questions until the end. Please and thank you. Muah!!!”—Nytisha Reed July 9, 2011
It was April 9, 2011. I remember sitting in my mothers bathroom crying my eyes out. I never realized how happy you would soon make me. I only knew that I was not expecting to meet you this day. I sat there, worried and sad, angry and fearful, scared and borderline crazy. I called my mother at work to tell her that I had found out you were coming, but my denial kept me from believing it. I was in total shock as I called my doctor. But I could not see him today. So I went to the emergency room. And after they took my blood and urine and left me there in that room, alone with my thoughts, for over an hour, the nurse came in to tell me that you were in fact coming. She told me to undress and put on a gown. By now it was 1:07 pm. I looked at my phone to see if my mother had called back, there for I know the time. I put on my gown in that cold room. It felt even colder because I was alone. She put me in a wheelchair, against my refusal, and wheeled me to the 5th floor. The sign in the hallway said ultrasound. I still was in denial. But at 1:17 pm on April 9, 2011 the nurse put that cold gel on my lower tummy and brought you to me to say hello. This was the day I met you. And on this day I knew for sure that I could never love anything so much as I loved you. Right there laying on that table I met my first born. And I must say that even in your small undeveloped alien form you were precious in ways I could never imagine. So I thank my mother for placing you in my mind, God for bringing you, your father for delivering you and the nurse for introducing us. I love you my child. And I’m glad I lived to see April 9, 2011 for that is the day I met you. :-)