It's always something, right? The Boy requested to speak with his father the other nite. I roll my eyes while I dig out his inconvient long distance Las Vegas number. When I hear his voice, I shove the phone at The Boy not wanting to speak to this nigga anymore than I'm required to.

His father hasn't called much lately. I don't speculate; it is what it is. It makes no difference to me but matters so much to this boy. Frankly, if he's not calling bout anything useful to my son, ie, child support, I have nothing to say to him.

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13.August.2005    10:46 PM     Commments: 1

This is one of those gigs where I really shoulda read the fine print a little more closely. My 9 year old has hit puberty....and I am ready to hurl. No, really, I can't take this shit. Growing hair in place only grown ups should be able to sprout folicles...I can't deal. Bras, pads, monistat....this is really too much for me at this point in my life.

Just five minutes ago I had to slather Nair all over her hairy armpits cause they were just gross. A child that young has no business sprouting hair like a grown man. Yuck. Heaven help me when she starts her cycle. I'll send her to my mom.

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07.August.2005    03:54 PM     Commments: 7