Stop Fighting Your Sister

One thing that Suite Suzy & I find our selves saying recently to Olivia is stop fighting your sister.  This is a statement that is made no less than 10 times a week.  I mean they fight like cats & dogs & it is amazing that Amelia holds her own at 3 against a 9 year old.

Really the fights are laughable but still annoying & I have been asking Olivia to be an example instead of an adversary.

Me asking Olivia to stop fighting with her sister is like the pot calling the kettle black because my sister “Baby” & I are always going head up & we have the same age gap as my kids.

Baby & I have not always fought because when we were kids, I would just beat her & my little brother up to get my way.  I guess when I was a late teen & even when I left my mom’s nest, they both figured that they could get with me & beat my ass if needed.

My brother & I hardly argue, probably because he can’t hold a conversation topic for no longer than 3 minutes, however when I piss him off, I really piss him off!

Now Baby & I at times fight like cats & dogs, usually because I start in by telling her what she “needs to do”.  The arguments get ugly but after a few days of back & forth we calm it down to regroup.

More recently, she tells me that she knows where I am coming from, but her life is her life & she is doing the best that she can.

Sometimes I just get upset because I see so much more potential wasting away with some of the things that I perceive that she is doing/not doing.

Today I caught myself starting an argument with her about what she needs to do in terms of providing a stable environment for my nephews.   Before I could get going, she cut me off & said that she was not in the mood to be preached at by the “perfect one”.

After we got off the phone, I actually felt bad about my approach.  I kind of felt helpless as I watch my sister live life of the fringes of ghetto society.

I guess I really need to chill & not stress her out because she is 6 months pregnant & I do not want to cause any additional headache for her.

When it all boils down to it, Baby gets on my damn nerves like no other but I love her so & only want the best for her & her piccaninnies

Flashing forward & backward at the same time, last Friday Baby & I spent the day together, which is rare.  2 weeks ago, she asked me to go to her next prenatal appointment so that I could hear the baby’s heart beat. For some reason, I felt honored that she asked.

So we went to the appointment & it was pretty status quo.  After the appointment, we headed downtown Detroit for a delicious lunch at Eph McNally’s (and of course, I had to pay!!!).

After a lunch, we spent the remainder of our time together walking around browsing at the African World Festival, which was nice.  Our time together was quality & it felt like we were really having a special brother/sister bond thing going on.

Switching subjects but yet staying on the same topic, I found out today that my momma & aunt “Juicy P” got into a major argument yesterday as they drove to see my uncle.  There was no blood shed but from what I heard, if one of them had a blade, it would have been on.  By the way, the fight had nothing to do with Juicy P calling me an “Ugly Jesus”.

Damn, just what is it about baby sisters that drive older sibling nuts?

BTW, if you read mylast "A Few Questions" post, you will see that my sister decided to get a cornrow mowhawk. I thought it was sharp!

Pudding Time

Amelia has a very interesting personality.  She neither acts like me or Suite Suzy, and very much unlike Olivia.

My little Boo Boo is sporadic, emotional, dangerous & lovable all at the same time but like most 3 year olds, she can drive you to that I wish you would point.  And just as you say, I wish you would, she does & that's when all hell breaks loose!

Gotta love it!

Ugly Jesus

In a recent post, I mentioned that I think that I have the nappiest face in Michigan. 

I guess this past Friday it was confirmed twice that my shit was off the hook. 

First, I hung with my sister Baby Friday & during the course of our time together, she asked what was up with my face.  I was like I know, I know it’s a hot mess but I am not shaving until Sept.  She was like, you need to get that damn taco meat off your face ASAP.  After she said taco meat, all I could was laugh because she was so damn right. 

Throughout the afternoon, she made a few more jokes about my rugged look but it was all good & getting teased is just part of being in my family.

Later in the day, I went over to Cousin Dee’s to meet up with my aunt “Juicy P” so that I could give her my prints for the art show because she is matting & framing them.

Upon seeing she was like you are you etc, but then when I got closer to her she was like “what happened to your face? you look like an ugly Jesus with that wild beard.”

I was so shocked, I could say nothing but “damn an ugly Jesus!” Cousin Dee was like what??? An ugly Jesus! Why that of all things?

So for the remainder of our meeting, I was referred to as Jesus, "Ugly Jesus".

You cannot be a Stevenson & have a sensitive feeling because we crush each other.  The sad thing is, we seem to not know where to draw the line.

Family is a trip cuz they always got jokes!

Side Note: Looking in the mirror when I got home Friday night, I guess that I could look like somebody’s light skinned, thick, locked & sexy Jesus but never an ugly one. 

Yesterday, I had Olivia take the photo above & I sent it to Juicy P & Cousin Dee & in the tile of the message was “Detroit’s 1st Ugly Jesus”.

2 Girls, 2 Beauty Tales

Part 1: I hate when my kids are right & I am wrong about anything!  This evening when I got home, I had a photo session with Olivia & she begged me to le her put on some lip-gloss for the photos.  I told her no & she pouted until I threatened to cut her lips off.  As some point Sade came out side & handed Olivia the lip-gloss & I said don’t even.

After 10 minutes into what we were doing, she asked again & I said go ahead because I got sick of her asking.  So with the quickness, she put on her strawberry lip-gloss & seconds later her lip-gloss was popping all over the place.  We took a few more photos & called it a wrap., as I put up my camera, she tanked me for letting her put on the lip gloss & I thanked her for modeling for me.

Call me protective or whatever but I want my girls to stay little!

So anyway, earlier tonight I was processing my images & could not help to notice that all of the photos that I took of Olivia with the lip-gloss looked so much better than the ones without.  I guess it added that something special that she only she knew about.

After I finished working on a few images, I called her down to see how things turned out & she was excited about the results.  Before she left to go back upstairs, I told her she was right about the lip-gloss & apologized for being an asshole it.

Part II: Last Sunday Sade went to get her hair twisted, but before then she was rocking 2 old school style Afro puffs & I thought she looked really cute but she did not.

When I washed her hair 2 weeks ago, she was like all of the kids on the school bus (summer school) were going to tease her etc.  After her whining, I went into my love your beauty sermon but she was not feeling it AT ALL.  Well, the bottom line is, no matter what she had to wait 2 weeks for her appointment because my loctician was booked like a mutha & her cornrows were busted.

So Saturday night before the appointment I ceased the moment to get a few photos of Sade in her puffs, which is normally hard because she all but runs from the camera.

I took a few photos & that was that.

On the way to her appointment Sunday, I told her how much I love her puffs & she said that she did too.  That was the 1st time I heard her say that.  Most times when she is between braids she wears puffs for at most 2 days, so the 2 week wait was just to much for the chocolate diva.

She now has her twists in & we cannot tell her anything.  She has been dressing up all week & rocking her little dangly earrings.

What is it with Black girls & their hair???

Dance Boo Boo, Dance...

A few weeks ago Boo Boo started kinderdance at the rec center.  She says that she likes it but on parent watch day she clamed up & did not perform with the other kids.  She was not the worst offender of the little dancer wannabees.  There were a few cry babies calling for their mama, a few doing their own dance & a few who were making it happen.

It was kinda funny watch her in the middle of everyone dancing around her.

Suite Suzy wants her to stat back up in the fall with it but I think not, unfortunately, I have no say in the matter.

Stronger as the Days Pass

My post title is dedicated to the man that taught me who to appreciate many forms of music and it is inspired by Earth Wind & Fire’s song "Keep You Head to the Sky” from their "Head to the Sky" album 1973.

“Master told me one day
I’d find peace in every way
But in search for the clue
Wrong things I was bound to do

Keep my head to the sky
For the clouds to tell me why
As I grew, and with strength
Master kept me as I repent
And he said 

Keep your head to the sky
Keep your head to the sky”

Seven years ago today, Suit Suite and I were walking around downtown Toronto celebration our wedding anniversary, like we do most years. As we walking, Toronto was busy with activities that were in preparation for the 2008 Summer Olympic Host City announcement that was to be made later that day.

Around six that same evening the Chinese citizens of the city took over the streets with boisterous excitement because Beijing was announced as the winner of the 2008 summer Olympics. I was disappointed and so were many others but hey, at least we got a fun parade out of it, along with 2008 Toronto gear that is not worth the shit of a fly. Anyway, the day was a good day. Suite Suzy and I also took in the "Lion King "stage play and had a fabulous Thai dinner.

As the night started to wind down, we headed back to the hotel to…

It’s now 3am and the hotel phone is ringing. Like most times when the phone rings that late, I always say, somebody better be dead or in jail calling this late and I'm out of town. I picked up the phone and said helleeer and my mom in a hurried voice says Brian (remember it was 7 years ago), your dad is dead. I say excuse me, did you say dead. She said yes that nigga is dead, and you need to get home.

I dropped the phone and screamed and Suite Suzy tried to figure out was going on.

As hours passed, I tried to get my mind right as Suite Suzy comforted me until the morning. We talked about all the what ifs, what about and why. I pretty much felt like a crying zombie that whole day, it was very rough and to make matter worse the his death underscored my wedding anniversary.

After my dad, RL Howard died my world was forever changed in good and bad ways and I deal with them as best as I can but the process seems never ending.

I told myself this morning not to have a tearful day and to think about his smile, conversations we had and how much I used to hate seeing him get food stuck in his mustache, especially grits.

After I got home today from an anniversary overnight jump off with my boo, I came home fixed a few cocktails (images and recipe coming soon!) I went and laid in the grass to enjoy the summer breeze and the passing clouds. As I laid in this solitary downtime, I felt peace, no sorrow, no hurt no pain. I think I am getting stronger.

Big Mama & Her Green Beans

Whenever I prepare fresh green beans, I always think about my grandmother Mary Howard aKa Big Mama.

When I was about 11 I started calling her Big Mama & she always laughed when I did.  I don’t know where I got it from back then but it seemed appropriate because her love was big, her food was big, her hugs were big & her smile was big.

After I purchased these beans today, I had every intention to pick them on the porch like Big Mama used to but I did not because the rain kept me inside but that did not deter my “rememory” of Big Mama & the way she picked her beans with a big smile while humming deeply sweet nothings that only she knew.

On another note, if Big Mama  were alive today, I would not be eating her green beans.  Back then, I like the boiled to death beans steeped in salt pork with the potato chunks bobbing up & down in the boiling water.  Today, I must have them sautéed, steamed or poached & lightly seasoned.

Baby Daddy

Part 1: This morning, I would up to a lovely breakfast prepared by my boo; eggs, hash browns, sausages & some frosty orange juice. After breakfast, I went back to lay down a little bit, basking in the glow of niggaitis.

The ladies are treating me pretty good today. I got a nice new pair of Cole Haan Sandals & a 2 year subscription to JPG magazine. As we speak, Sade & Suite Suzy are preparing my kings dinner of true Negro fixins (collars, macaroni cheese, honey bbq chicken, corn on the cob, corn muffins & for dessert, caramel cashew brownies).

The only thing fucking today up is all the studying that I have to do for my statistics class because I have a quiz tomorrow.

Part II: It was very easy for me to become a father both times, I mean really easy. All I needed was my boo to be willing to release an egg to one of my eager sperm. Once she was willing, a few quick pumps & a nap later, voila I was a father.

The hard part (not really all that hard), the part I love & treasure was participating in prenatal care visit, watching my seed grow in fertile ground & then seeing perfection enter the world.

Being a father is a no brainer once you bust that nut. Sticking around to be a dad for the long haul taking care of business, providing love discipline, education etc is what it is really all about.

I think someone @ Hallmark should evaluate the meaning of father & consider something that is more encompassing on what it takes to be a male parent.

So anyway, 1st happy fathers day to all the baby mammas out there serving as bother mom & dad because sometimes niggas ain’t shit. 2nd happy fathers day to all the baby daddies out there on the grind taking care of your children & live as a shining example of what being a parent is all about.