“Video games are for boys!”

I remember them time and time again: “That’s for boys, put that down!” every time I stepped outside of that pink stuff and frilly dresses square they drew me in. I felt like a square.

I still do.

I missed out on some really great video games, but my brother(s) didn’t. I got the hand-me-downs [broken consoles, with cords with impossible to fix shorts in them, controllers with buttons that don’t work, etc.] and the things they didn’t want to play. I enjoyed them all the same. I ended up being really good at Columns, though. I still haven’t mastered Golden Axe. I could only reach stage three. Good times.

The only time I got to play video games usually resulted from something I’d rather not talk about having to come into play. Let’s just say after it ended and while it was happening all I saw at the end of the tunnel was a place to be free. I found my home in video games. It was my way to escape from everything around me. That escape only lasted in maybe 3-5 minute burst, maybe once a week or once a day, if I’m lucky. I was trying to disappear from their eyesight and they couldn’t even realize it. I wanted to help them stop wanting to beat me with broomsticks because they couldn’t process their anger differently. Dammit, I wanted to wear short sleeves in the Summer! I wanted to stop having to explain my scars, my bruises. I wanted to stop explaining why my skin is always full of open wounds. That now I’m the one causing because now, I pick my skin. I’m this trapped, confused, black child in the ghetto and I’m not even safe in my own home so what exactly was out there that they were keeping me from? I’m sorry…I’m panning away from the point.

Moving on….

Video games were my escape and they wouldn’t even give me a minutes peace. No matter how much I begged and pleaded. I wanted to be able to sit and play video games like my brothers. I wanted to be a kid. I didn’t want an Easy Bake and white Barbie dolls. I didn’t want frilly dresses and purses. I didn’t want to get beat for doing things that weren’t “lady-like”. And video games were “unladylike”. I could learn car detailing properly, I couldn’t learn mechanics and I couldn’t play video games because all of those things are for boys and that I should get in the kitchen with granny and learn how to cook.

Let me tell you…

I can COOK my ass off.

Then feed it to you and have you coming back for more. 

It’s a good thing too because I love to eat. -ahem.

When I was finally able to leave the house I started to collect older consoles, but I was still a dreamer then because I was collecting component cables and cartridges for them as well so I could play them. My family took them all; sold them or tossed them away, I forget which one they’re a fan of the most. My Gamecube, too.

My very first legit video game I was able to sit down and enjoy that I paid for when I was finally able to leave my house was ‘Super Smash Bros. Melee’. That was my first owned console; the Nintendo Gamecube. I had a silver one and I thought I was the shit because people would tell me how they wanted the silver one. Cheesy, I know. It was mine. My first racing game was a Need for Speed game. I have so many favorites of that franchise: Need for Speed: Most Wanted, Need for Speed Underground 2, and Need for Speed: Carbon. I don’t know why I loved those games, but I did.

*I was going to add pictures to this but, meh. No one reads this anyway.

There are so many games I want to play. Some, I’ve never heard of before my fiance mentioned them. Luckily, there are emulators and I have a gaming rig so I can just play catch up. It’s just, it would have been great to experience video gaming in all its glory, but I couldn’t because “video games are for boys”.

Maybe I’m Undeserving..

My son is awesome, he’s great, he’s the apple …of my eye. On the other hand, he can drive me nuts, and he runs me ragged. I would pull my hair out if he wasn’t already doing it himself. Between school, work and other responsibilities, I find myself  tired more and more these days. I don’t exactly have a support system. My ex-husband tells me every weekend that he’ll come and get the baby for the weekend and he never does. He either have excuses or he changes his mind. I don’t want to complain but this mom is worn out. There’s absolutely no one that I can let my son spend time with so I can get 5 minutes to myself. Maybe I want to pamper myself, or sit and read? Am I undeserving of those comforts now? I know those kinds of things stop when you have children but I shouldn’t have to wait till my son goes to sleep to start on school work or have time to myself. I should be able to do these things during daylight hours.

I was so looking forward to having a little time to myself this weekend; I had my hopes up for nothing. I now – when I think about it — notices a pattern; he’ll (ex-husband)disappear from planet earth from Friday to Sunday evening. That night, he’ll text me saying why he couldn’t spend time with his son; why I couldn’t have 2 measly days to myself.

This is my schedule from Monday to Thursday:

  1. Get ready for work.
  2. Take baby to daycare.
  3. Go to work.
  4. Finish work for the day.
  5. Pick up son.
  6. Go home.
  7. Feed son.
  8. Entertain son until that night.
  9. Start on school work.
  10. Go to bed.

Fun, right? Not! Don’t get me wrong, my life could be worse but even still, am I that undeserving of a little me time? I’m afraid of what’s going to happen to my mental state after awhile. I may tune out my hopes of having such privileges and start thinking like a machine; I feel like one.

I’m simply, getting sick of the run around with my son’s father. Then when I get on him about what he says he’ll do, I’m the one that has to “relax” or be patient”? Really? I’ve been patient. I’m taking care of my son with no support from him whatsoever! It’s like I don’t have a right to be pissed, to be tired.

Well, I need to cut this short and get in the bed and get as much sleep as I can before my son wakes up at 3 and then at 5 wanting to play.

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My Son Was Left Alone

When I came home, I was  expecting my son to be sitting in his chair looking at his dad. When I come home and enter through the door, I see my son on my bed crying his eyes out reaching out to me happy to see someone. That’s right, my soon to be ex-husband, left my son alone and for what? So he can go hang with someone in the building to play PS3, smoke and drink. How old is he you ask? He’ll be 26 this year. I can’t get that image of him crying alone for who knows how long out of my head. I sat there and timed how long it’s been since I found my son in that condition and how long it was gone before he home. 15-20 minutes went by. I managed to make 3-4 phone calls in that time. So if I didn’t come home when I did, he would have still been crying. The door was unlocked, my son was alone and all I could do is hope this was just a cruel joke — that he is just hiding somewhere just to pop out and scare me. That wasn’t the case.

Anything could have happened…my worst fear was someone calling child protective services because they hear a baby crying and he’s been crying for a while and it sounds like no one is home. These apartment walls are made oftissue paper and the neighbors can hear any and everything. I’m just glad I came home when I did. Someone that reckless with an innocent life can’t be in my life. I love my son too much to put him in danger like that. All it takes is one time. I have to the best  interest of my child first before mine or anyone else. It’s too many careless parents out there as it is, I’m not about to be one of them.

I thought leaving my son with his father would be the logical choice but I guess not. Who knows how many times he’s done this when I went out to handle something. My heart hurts for my son. I had a crack-head prostitute for a mother and she did the same thing to me. It was 10x worse but neglect is neglect and I won’t tolerate it! My son is my world and I’m supposed to protect him and that’s what I’m going to do. No matter what.

Update: I confronted my sons dad. He said he was only gone for 10 minutes (which is a lie). There is nothing more important that he couldn’t wait til I got back. You’re not supposed to put nothing or no one over an innocent child. I don’t care if my son was 3 years old, he’s not supposed to be left unattended. There is no justification for leaving my son alone. He laughed and threw a few whatever’s around like I wasn’t supposed to be mad. I had every right to be mad. Well, he’s living with his mom now, I wonder if he finds that funny.

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Happy Thanksgiving, Sweetie!

This is your first thanksgiving and I hope you’re having a wonderful time! I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you and your Dad today,
I know you were wonder where I was. I went to go spend time with my grandmother and aunt today. They were looking forward to seeing the both of us but I told them I’ll bring you next time. I’m so thankful you sweetie! I were that I could never have children; that I was infertile, but here you are, in my life and I’m so grateful. I knew I was going to fall head over heels when I heard your heartbeat for the first time. I really fell in love with you when I was able to hold you in my arms. I missed you a lot today. I wanted to take a trip over to where you spent thanksgiving after I left granny’s but it got too late and it’s the holidays, the buses run really slow.

It’s days like this people neglect the most. I’m going to cherish every single moment with you. I hold you a lot at night — after you have fallen asleep — it brings me peace. I feel like I have a purpose now, I feel needed; wanted, loved. I can’t wait till you come home so I can hold you in my arms and kiss your fat cheeks. I love you sweetheart.

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