Home fun

SNEEKING TO EAT CAKE....
Stinkapee and I thought it might be fun to bake a cake. I've been talking about making a cake with her for a long time. So yesterday, we decided to make "French Vanilla" heart cake - and today we we going to ice it with chocolate frosting.

Stinkapee did really well in getting all the ingredients, and mixing everything together.

She is so amazing.

This morning, we were suppose to finish our activity by frosting the cake, but she woke up before me, went downstairs - and into the fridge... and had a little six year old breakfast snack...
Gotta love that...

Good thing we made 2 cakes... we still got the other one to cover in chocolatey icing goodness...

STALK MUCH? i got a comment for a person saying they 'saw' me sleeping/ defenseless/ vulnerable...on the subway train...

I asked myself.. is this person trying to say.. we know who you are... i'm watching you...?
obviously you feel like you know who I am, but you weren't comfortable enough to attach your blog (if you have one) or your name ...

i would call you sad.. but it's more odd/ strange/ more than anything...

The Spirit of Giving PART 2

Ok, so my plan was to make little cards and hand them out to homeless people in out neighborhood for this upcoming holiday season. The cards would have 15 or 20 bucks in it. It has gotten so cold over the past months with daily high hovering around the 5-6 degree mark. (Not sure the 'F' degree equivalent) - but cold.

DD thought it was a nice gesture, but wanted to have conversation as to why I thought they would be interested in a "card" from a stranger. I said, I thought it would be nice to give them "something" - which DD thought was interesting. She wondered why I thought they would want a card. Who told me that? She suggested that cards had to do with a certain kind of familiarity, that I don't have - regardless of the fact that I walk past some of these people every day. She wondered why I just didn't give them the money - .. after all, is it about me simply giving to a homeless person - and allowing them to be off... OR do I need to feel special for having given them a card, along with the 20 bucks.

My reaction to her probe was to feel angry. I mean, here I was - thinking about others for a change, and all she can do is rain on my parade. But then I started to think about my reasons for handing out the cards.

I had pictured in my mind, the few people I was going to give these cards out to as being like: oh thank-you... NO Way! you shouldn't have... a CARD- for me??? No?!!!
And if I'm honest with myself, and trust me, I have trouble with that one some times, I know that there is a piece of me that wants to be looked at like: "now that is a powerful and amazing man who really does great things." I want to feel stroked and appreciated.

But, after reflecting more, not like this. The reflection did take a bit of time. I think I'm classist, and think there is a part of me who believes that the homeless people in my neighborhood should be greatful for whatever they get - and SUPERgrateful if a complete stranger goes the extra mile to give them a gift. It's that damn picking order. I hate that!

The Spirit of Giving

I was outside on our back deck having a puff (I think cause I have 1 or 2 a day I'm not really addicted - sad, I know.. ) and it was 3 degrees - or 40F, for you Americans, and I was thinking about for the holiday season and the new year, giving some homeless people cards with 10 or 20 dollars inside...
which raised an interesting point when I mentioned it to DD. She said:

Reloaded II... here it is!

Everyone, enjoy the reads.
Thx DD!

incredible juju's i'm back to

feminist allies' chicks dig feminists
seminalson's so daddy will you dance with your son
birth pangs' why stop at alcohol?

darkdaughta's blog for choice kindergarten style

angry pissed off ungrateful little transracially abducted mutherfuckers from hell
what is a men's movement?

NORTH AMERICAN UNION: Security and Prosperity

I really like Coffee House Studio, thank-you for getting me on to this. Watch this feature video, of the NATIONAL, from the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.
Pay attention to what SECURITY AND PROSPERITY means.

It's coming.
Watch.


And apparently the "lovely folks of the US" aren't paying attention cause no one seems to know, or care. And the BUSH administration likes it that way! Hell. even the reporter on the story is shocked! From the Cable News Network. Watch.

AND NOW THE CONTINUATION.....EVERYONE CHOOSES HOW THEY ARE GOING TO BE PROGRESSIVE: what choice will I make?

You know, I was on set today thinking about my life. When I work - I spend a lot of time talking to people and talk and talk they do. People on set often think that because they are paid lots of money.. they're smart. They aren't.

I came home this evening and DD told me about they day she had with our Stinkapee. The cloth menstrual pad.. i have to stop here now cause I'm actually exhausted and want to write.. i'll be back around 5:30 to continue.. must sleep...

_____________________________________________

So, I wrote that back on Thursday and I haven't choosen to come back to my blog until now. It is early Sunday morning. I was reading the post that DD made about the conversation she had with Stinkapee around menstruation. Okay, first of all, it has taken men quite a bit to actually get to the point of writing this. I had to go into my memory banks, fight my learned "fear of the vagina", visit some websites, fight more fear and angst, do some more deep breathing - truly - quite sad - me - the parent and care-giver of a girl child and boy child, actually being really timid about period blood.

Sad.

But, can't stay there. I have a lot of parenting to do, and I'm not gonna get it done by resting on my ass and complaining... and trust me... I really do love to do that ... ok?

I think part of what has happened to me is around violence and blood and remembering that growing up - those two went hand in hand. And the memories scare me. Add to that, the fact that there was no conversation about the female body WHATSOEVER in my the family home I grew up in - and you have a recipe for .. wait for it: ignorance.

But, Stinkapee is growing up fast, and very shortly, to be blunt - she and the fatty boy are going to looking at me like: you have no credibility. And that just won't do.

Over on darkdaughta's site, Stinkapee was exclaiming about how excited I'll be to see her new cloth menstrual pad. Isn't that beautiful. She's excited about it, and thinks I will be too. The truth: I can be excited. I just need to take my head out of my ass and connect emotionally to the female body in the present and everyday. Lots of us (men) like to claim - I was at my child's birth (ok, maybe not lots - but you get the idea) ; OR, I am really their for my partner when "it's that time of the month" - but really - all we do is grin and bare "it", until "it" passes (so to speak!) . Not good enough.

Until I start actually engaging with the feelings, and the emotions connected to DD period, how I am going to support Stinkapee? First off, writing this really helps - cause I am very bottled up and wound up. I think one thing I am going to propose is that when her cycle begins, we have a "request/RESET" days. During this time DD requests what she'd to see happen in our relationship and in the house - because her body does something very specific during menstrating cycle. She becomes very creative (busy and imaginative writing and art) followed by a crash in energy. One of the things I'd like to commit to is to make a solid effort to being present, and loving and treating myself with love, care and respect because if I do, I won't end up draining her of so much emotional energy. I do love to do this. And this energy needs to be in reserves for Stinkapee and Fatty boy.

Love myself. Make love to myself. Take myself out. Have a bath. Cry.

It's sounds so straight forward, but anyone reading my blog will know, how much I struggle with this.
One of the things I am working out is trying to love myself. What a concept.

---BACK TO THE PAD--- Right on about the cloth pads. The reality is: I am in charge of the laundry in the house, and it has yielded some positive, and NEGATIVE results. More on that later, but what I am saying is that, after some initial research I found ways to wash Stinkapee reusable pad. I think it's going to be important for Fatty Boy to understand me washing out Stinkapee's cloth pad, putting it on the cloths line and continuing on with the day like anything else.

[You damn well know, that if periods happened to us men, it would be a federal holiday. Bleeding out of out genitals? N*gga Please! There is no chance our world about be organized the way it is. ]

So, first order of the day tomorrow, when I wake up, is going to be to congratulate Ms. Stinkapee on her new cloth menstrual pad. Very cool.
___________________________________________

Found some interesting info on line after doing a search. Useful to me. Might be useful to some other men wanting to challenge themselves:

CLOTH MENSTRUAL PAD INFORMATION:

Commercially available - The majority of commercially available pads are manufactured by work at home moms or small businesses and can be purchased through some health food stores select specialty stores and via the Internet. They are available in a range of lengths and thicknesses, similar to disposable pads, with longer pads for night use and thinner and shorter pads for light use. Some manufacturers will allow the buyer to select the fabrics, shape and size of the pad so that they can be custom made to fit an individual woman and be as efficient as possible.

Handmade - Some women make their own cloth menstrual pads. These pads range from folded wash cloths to pads similar to the cloth menstrual pads available commercially. Some women design their own styles while other women use patterns found on websites.

Washing and care - Cloth menstrual pads may be hand, or machine washed, and then dried on a clothes line or in a clothes dryer depending on the instructions from the manufacturer (different fabrics require different care methods). Some women choose to rinse out their pads in cold water before putting them in the wash with their other clothing, others do not rinse, but put the soiled pads straight into the wash.

Stains sometimes occur, however this is limited if the pads are rinsed out or soaked in cold water immediately after use. Some women prefer darker coloured fabrics which do not show stains as much as light fabrics do. Causes of staining include: allowing the blood to dry on the pad, and using hot water when washing the pad. Drying cloth pads in sunlight can help to fade stains.

When changing cloth menstrual pads away from home, some women place the soiled pads into a waterproof or ziploc bag to keep them from drying out and to contain or prevent odor, and then wash the pads when convenient.

---From Wikipedia. Seems like some good info, but I'm still trying to move away from understanding or associating the female body with "bad" smells. Just a thought.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT i give you the AMERO (goodbye the Mexican Peso, the Greenback, and the Canadian Dollar THIS IS REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD...

First, thanks to Coffee House Studio for having this link.

I'm in shock. But I guess I shouldn't be. I was surfing my way through the web, and found this out. I didn't believe it at first, really I didn't. It is really informative. I thought it made some solid points, but I didn't agree with one point, which suggested that:

"In reality, the value of the US and Canadian dollars will be significantly reduced to counter the worthless peso being absorbed. People in the US and Canada will suffer great financial loss while Mexicans will see significant gain."

I don't agree with this. With the EURO, the folks in the weathier EU nations got richer, and the folks in the poorer EU nations, got well... poorer. Just ask my Greek neighbours. Since their old currency went "bye-bye" , the standard of living for the average Greek person has tanked.


Make sure to watch the CNBC footage in the article..

Now, as I write this, I'm thinking: EUROs, Dollars, Pesos - whatever - we are all still living on First Nations land, so what the fuck anyway. "We are being taken over?" Is this really a news item? Well, yes it is. The question is where do First Nations people figure in this?

The signs of Canada, the shell of a country that it is - being taken over silently have always been there. Every major corporation in Canada is owned either by an American, or a non-Canadian. And whatever is not, will be in the 5 years. The Universal Health Care system has been under attack for years, and corp. rule seems to be the order of the day.

I went walking my son a few hours ago, our neighbourhood is busy with restaurants, cafes, lounges, etc. I had just found the AMERO link, and was feeling dizzy. Literally. I was like: the north american populace has their head in the sand. WATCH THE CNBC LINK. SO smug about being 1st world - we don't even know the shit storm that is about to happen when ALL of the "things" we "own" are devalued.

Damn right they are building prisons/ detention centres. Lots of them. They'll need places to put all of the shocked folk who loose their "stuff" when currency transition occurs.; health care is shot, social programs are gutted, and Cdn have to buy back their own water supply.
ALSO READ:
THE END OF democracy in Canada

A COMPLETE IDIOTjust film your scenes and keep quiet

I just need to make a quick comment about actor Terrence Howard. I'd love to say that what he thinks is an isolated comment, but really - it is the way we men are raised. Fear the vagina, hate the vagina, the vagina is dirty, it needs to be controlled, soaked, scrapped, whatever...

You know what... with men economically dominating this planet, and controlling most of the information/ knowledge/ what is truth - it is no wonder that tons of men and WOMEN actually believe that women are inherently "dirty". You know what... they're not. (and the fact that I'm even writing this is sad.) I have been guilty of believing that women are "not clean" and need to be wiping, patting, perfuming, spraying, their gentials to keep themselves clean - and I am learning how sad we are as a people are - when I see morons like actor Terrence Howard making comments, Terrence: deal with your own, what I am sure is a digusting, stank, ass. And stop thinking on your own. You're an actor. Just stick to reading some else's words. Stop there.

Really though, it's comments like this, that remind me why we men need some serious help. We really do ... another example of the need for men's gathering, discussions, and healing. How about we think about our own bodies, treating them with care, etc.

This is part of why I have this blog.

RELOADing: Joining darkdaughta's fun!

I am honoured to be included in this round of DARKDAUGHTA's "Reloaded" carnival. What a great idea. I'm looking forward to reading everyone's posts and learning losts...Very inspiring.
See you all soon...



Reloaded
Sunday 2, 2007

Red Jenny's "The Good Life and The Economy"

Mommy On The Floor's "The City On The Hill"

Second Waver's "The Male Gaze, postscript"

Universal Plume's "It's Blog For Loving Yourself Day"

Seminalson's "I'm A Fragile Being: Touch In My Men's Group"

Risa's "You Want Cream In That?"

All About My Vagina's "Please call it 'Sex Safety'"

To which Darkdaughta adds: "Race, Class and Everyday Shite", "Western Civilization...A History of Emotional Dysfunction", "My Daughter Wants A Barbie", "Mission Not Accomplished...Sort of" and "Does He Wipe His Track Makin' Ass With Moist Towelettes?"

Reloaded will be happening every Sunday. So, if you or anyone you know has an old post they really liked the first time around, something thick or difficult that they'd like to have circulate through the blogosphere again, just get in contact with darkdaughta. Thx

NEW STUFF NEW POSTtime to start again on my blog, Fall is around the corner and time to get crackin!

One of the things that I struggle with in moving through the personal work I'm doing, is remaining present, and connecting with what I'm doing in the day to day - the choices I'm making and doing something different. I, often position DD as myl motivator - but take note: I mean I position her like this - which also means that I rebel - and more importantly - this is way to energy and emotionally draining. So, TODAY, I'd like to announce to myself a little schedule. Where did this come from? Well, yesterday, DD wanted me to bathe our son on the veranda. I, of course, said, no. You see, I really didn't feel like doing it. I wanted to just bathe him in the bathroom, he could splash around, I could relax, chill out, not worry about to much. It was then when DD said what she has been saying for a long time, which is: I want my children to have various experiences, experiences which aren't defined by the amount of money we have, the amount of credit, but rather a quality of attention and care than is so important.

And I, stubborn and slow (yes I can say that- I am still working threw "feeling controlled" - sad as it is - writing this helps.. At the root of it I was abused by my brother... read some older posts for context)

We got into a discussion about it, her trying to convince me, (now this sounds fucked up as I write it) and after a while, the sun went down, and it became too cold to have the bath outside.
Night fell, and after watching one of my favorite shows, Dexter, I went to sleep (with Shomalian, my son)

Now, it's morning and DD was a great idea to go grab some Ethiopian breakfast with the whole family. Sounds like a good idea, but now we're in discussion about how I'm sabotaging the laundry. I'm off to meet my madd - father in law - .. that's another discussion.

ALL THAT SEEMS TO HAVE HAPPENED IS I WAS DENIALand that's the seems to be the eay of the land

You know, I was just reading the latest post over at Darkdaugtha, and on my second pass I was like: holing shyte - I don't even know what to say. I am shocked. Not because is it not true, but because of my reactions to what I saw. What I saw where a group of names of First Nations locations in Ontario - and I realized I know nothing ... I mean literally nothing about the indigenous people of the land that my family is settling on.

That's not ok. That's fucked up. What the hell! What the fuck is going on? I can blame the government, I can blame the education system (an arm of the government) or I can just own the fact that I MYSELF have done NOTHING to educate myself around the genocide and land stealing program.

My friend MARNI

So, I've just picked up the "Mother Zone" a book by Marni Jackson, and I have to say, it is come at quite the right time for me. She opens up about her family, like few do. I am really about opening up, and sharing my feelings, but have found the a lot of people really don't like to do that. They may pretend that they do, but really - they don't.

Truly, I am trying to build friends for Stinkapee, after having gone thru so much change and difficulties over the past year, or rather I should say - after having so much change thrown at her over the past few years - I really want to put my best effort forward in trying to get her some nice friends. You know, I've found, that for the most part, children aren't nice.

So, at this point, I'm trying to build allies for her. I don't want to risk alienating the parents and then risk Stinkapee a play date. I don't have to connect with them on all things politically, I just want Stinkapee to have some fun.

Anyway, reading Jackson - was like reading a friend. I was having a melt down yesterday. Today is a better day, for sure.

For me, the men I meet don't meet me where I am, and always leave me feeling off. Today I'm putting out a posting for my men's group. I'll write more later...

RESENTMENTi shouldn't be writing this, but I want all my time back, not some, but all... and I want that denial pill again...and...

The clothes need to get folded, stuff needs to get done, piles of paper need to be picked up, a lot of things need to get done around the house. I know this. I know this. I know this. But I want to sleep, I want to go walking, I want to go for a beer, I want to fuck off! And I don't want to negotiate with anyone. I don't want to negotiate with DD, AND I also want to be taken care off, I want to loved, I want to be pampered; I don't want to have to do anything, I don't want to take people's feelings in to consideration, I don't want to feel my feelings, I want to pretend I don't see, I want to run, I want to be left to wander, I want a large bank account, I want stuff handed to me on a silver platter, I don't want to be accountable for my actions, I don't want to be accountable for my actions, I don't care... I don't care... I don't care...

I'd don't like to answer questions, I don't want this and I don't want that. Everyone, fuck off! I just want silence! I just want no one to talk to me. Okay, I want everyone to talk to me! AHHHHHH!

I'm a teenager! I'm a child! I'm confused! Well, I know what I want. And it's ALL juvenile! But it is ...
Ok, I need to go and read a post I wrote a couple of days back. No doubt, I'll be like: oh yes: I remember writing this - I must have blanked it, .. i feel like crying now.. I feel like a mess...
ok.. i'm going to read the post called: "Took a trip to Monrovia, Dad revealed." April 11.2007

Reading this post should ground me. Then I'm going for a walk around the block, and taking some deep breaths. Then I'm going to have a chat with myself (or on this blog)

Blood, Piss, and Shyt...

So, I'm thinking about my relationship to the human body, and how much I hate my body, and how much I hate the female body, and how much I hate stuff oozing out of bodies. Ok, so my rationale *adult* self doesn't show this for real- in public - but I do hate it.

I've been thinking about how I see and understand the human body, and it is in a very surface way. What this post is really about is the game of denial of play with myself, and how dangerous is actually is. I have issues on my body that need to get checked. I have dental stuff. I have bones stuff. I have a fair number of things that need to be checked out by a homeopath.

IN terms of the blood, piss, and shyt.. well, I have issue with women's bodies, how they work, and what they do. I want to talk about how I expect women to be the picture of cleansed, while I think it's okay to walk around spitting, whorking, outside - the car, on the sidewalk. Sounds like your typical double standard. Sounds pretty basic.

But it is the truth.

I came from a sanitized family house, devoid of mention of bodily functions and when it was mentioned, it was usually frowned on, or in the case farts, laughed. One thing is for sure, ther was no discussion around what women's bodies do - how they work, or anything like that. My father explained nothing. NOTHING. period. My mom either. So, I'm realizing as I write this, that I have another piece of me that I'm set to repeat with my children (and myself) which is fear of the female body - which is a book...
More coming...

I don't know Kathy Sierra either but - WHAT A GOOD WAY TO GET RID OF SOMEONE... hmmmm

This is in reference to an important piece I read at darkdaughta's blog.
So, getting rid of someone doesn't really need an outside force now does it. It looks like all someone has to do is say someone *did* something, put it all over blog land and suddenly - over night - the accused person is in a major shyt storm - and all of blog land has to be under strict manners and rules. Read: BLOG law. So, what will be the punishment for going outside the manners. Who will decide if it what is being said is even true.

I'm thinking about that CBS man, and his comments, and how we don't actually know if his comments were his, or if it was a smart, well created campaign to lift a slumping CBS radio out of the ratings grave yard. What has happened to CBS radio stock; and CBS radio ratings sense all of that began.

And the CBS man? He may have been paid out; he may be offered a new job at a new station, or he may go travel for a bit. Who knows?

But back to the main issue here... here's what I know. Something seems to be brewing. Bloggers, like people in general communicate indirectly, save a few brave souls... A way of dealing that is so indirect, a lot of people don't even know - or have time to see what is going on.
If you (a blogger) don't like a person, or a person's views, you (the blogger) can tell a story about how the person you don't like (or their views) have been attacked and treated. "I'm scared!" "I fear for my life!" "This person is going to kill me!"

You need not show proof, you need not show evidence, you just need to be able to make sure people see your accusations, and off you go!

Words have a lot of charge to them, and no one seems to be talking about what exactly are the facts regarding this Kathy Sierra issue. In fact, is anyone asking: what was the relationship between the people involved? Or more importantly: the person who did this *attack*, what are their political views? Are they against the grain? What else is going on here? Who is Kathy Sierra anyway? Simple questions? Anyone asking?

But imagine (if you will!) if nothing had happened, and this person simply wanted to neutralize an opinion or someone.

Or maybe, I wanted to get more links, more posts, be more popular (and make no mistake, from what I can tell, this is a popularity game. OR MAYBE THEY JUST WANT BLOG LAND PERIOD TO BE BROUGHT under control.. read: all those anarchists, lefty bloggers, and or people who think outside of narrow parameters - beware. You're about to be rained in.

We are living in dangerous times. But then, we always were.

NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT! i am so going to do this!

Fresh off my post about playing with Barbies and one thing I forgot to do was talk about the purpose of the post. I was fustrated with (and I still am fustrated) with the limitations put on boys and men. And so, I bring you ... MALE BELLY DANCERS.

Click the player below to watch: TITO, one of EGYPT'S HOTTEST MALE BELLY DANCERS
enjoy.

SO I WAS SITTING ON THE TOILET, thinking about Barbie...

After I woke up this morning, I was in the bathroom reading my Intimacy and Solitude workbbook. I decided to fast forward to the part about gender. And while reading it, I found I re-connected with something I did when I was a child. I played with Barbie!

You see, when I was visiting Barbados - where some of my cousins' lived (when I was a child), one of my cousins had a huge Barbie house, with all the figures, sofas and even a car. The house was about a metre tall, and three metres in width. It was big.

Before this latest realization, I did remember playing with this house, but all I used to remember about it was that I wanted to burn it down. [I think I hated that cousin - but that's another post]
And I could wrap my mind around that - after all - I was a boy, and what do boys do, they make mess and disaster. That memory made sense.

But this morning, I remembered more.. I remembered making up an entire story about the dolls. I gave them new names, and I remembered being Ken. I drove the convertable. It was bright purple... [I think I really liked that]

Anyway, I think I made up a story where Ken was cheating on Barbie, and Barbie decided to get some revenge on Ken by torching his car.

In Barbados, a lot of folks light their gas stoves by matches, so I went on over to the kitchen to grab some matches. I thought.. how amazing, I'll have and epic ending to this story... wouldn't it be cool if everything burned up... the car, the house? everything.
I really didn't think it thru. (Hey I was 10.) I loved films and tv at this point, and so I think that fueled my passion for this.. does this sound like a cliche?

Anyway, the worst was to come.
Before I got a chance to do my firey grand finale - my cousin, a male, caught me playing with the figures. And so it began: "Oh my god... he's playing with Barbies - we knew he was fruity!" "Mom! he playing with her dolls!!! Doesn't he know they're for girls?" I remember denying that I was even playing with them.

Which made no sense, it was obvious that I was. That's all I can remember right now.
And don't even get me started on my demand for an ez-bake oven...

Well, gotta go - have to feed my son.

Sharing ideas and thoughts: I'm writing to you

Galin. Thanks for leaving your post. I'm glad you did. Only thing is, I went to try and link to you and could not find you or your blog. I'm interested in knowing what types of things are happening for you as you read my blog. So much of the problem with men is, we are completely disconnected from each other. Lets see what can be shared.
Looking forward to hearing back.

I took a cyber field trip to Japan: PODJAPAN and found...

a comment on men and women in Japan. Here is a snip (or click here to read the article)

Pod Japan wrote: one of the major problems in Japan: the mother / son relationship is way too strong, which stunts the emotional development of boys, and later makes it much harder for them to relate normally to women. So when (and if) they get married, they won't know how to make their wives happy... Lather, rinse and repeat: this vicious circle has been perpetuating itself for at least 50 years, and I personally don't see what can break it"

My comment was:

OKAY - Well, your comments can go further. It is really sad that the world has been constructed in this manner. You speak of the problem being the mother / son relationship inference being the unhealthy relationship between a mother and her son. Well, I think more the issue is the unhealthy relationship between the men in Japan with .. well.. other men. They teach each other to hate and disrespect women; they don't value girl babies / children and only want to invest (care, love, funds) in the boy- child. And this dominating belief has no doubt effected the way mothers/ woman see themselves. It is no wonder some of the women in Japan have unhealthy relationships with their sons.

This is what has been reinforced and taught over and over and over again by the ruling class... the MEN. I think we should start there instead of pointing fingers at - as usual - mothers/ women/ girls.

As well, it speaks to the sad state of "male culture" - which is universal - they only way we actually exist as a powerful force is to dominate, humiliate and belittle women. We men need some serious help. I for one, think a men's emotional revolution is necessary.
Thoughts?

RE-READING AWAKENING

"...Something.
.. say anything..." I say to myself.

I don't listen to my internal voice. I listen to my little boy who says: you don't have to talk if you don't want to..."

TO which DD says:

Seminal... this is the part where you get angry with me for calling you on your shit!" I say nothing.
I stare at DD and say nothing.

What brought on all of this? Well, this time it was the sound of Shamolian (our 9 month old baby). I had left him to crawl all over the futon (or roll rather) while I flicked the television. I was on the futon to. I'd turn him every few seconds, but mostly he didn't like it. He made struggling sounds, sounds of fatigue and sounds that seemed to say: pick me up... pick me up...". So I turned off the television, got flat on my back (on the futon), and tired to put him on my stomach to sleep - he often likes this.

He didn't .. and at this point, I can understand why.

So, I'll put him at my side.

DD came into the room seconds later. She asked me if I had been sleeping. "No, I hadn't been sleeping I said." "I heard Shom in distress"

To be continued. More to be added.

FIRST NATIONS, me and my 5 yr old.

SO Stinkapee and I jumped into our car and drive across town. Where we are going, I have no idea - but I do know that I wasn't going to be home. DD and I talked about how we have different experiences in our growing up relating to men. If I get triggered, I'll tend to freeze and not know what to do next.

I know I'm suppose to have feelings of shame around this... like... hey your partner is dealing with the landlord and not you. What kind of man are you. Answer: A smart one. My partner and I have diferent talents - and are trying to weigh the emotional weight of each other. It's not all men this happens with - our landlord is a very specific type. So we concluded that it'b be ok if I wasn't in the house if I was around.

ON the drive, Stinkapee was very excited about all the posters and fryers in our neighbourhood. I asked Stinkapee what she'd like to do, and she said get a surprise present for *Mama*. She said:
"What kind of cake does MAma like, cause we could get her a really cool CHOCOLATE cake." To which I said, "what a great idea.. only thing.. well, i'm not sure Mama likes chocolate as much as you..."
Then she asked me, "well what kind of cakes does Mama like? I told her, Mama likes "apples and vanilla ice cream." YIPEE! she exclaimed. We'll get a vanilla ice cream cake with apples!" Her face was glowing.

When we got to our destination, I asked Stinkapee if she wanted to walk for a bit. She said yes. We came to one of about 10 Japanese restaurants in this particular area. Stinkapee pooked her head into one restaurant.

I saw a crowd, and I thought... NO. No crowds. I can't handle crowds right. I thought about Stinkapee and the crowd, and not being able to hear her. I also thought my attention would be drifting all over the place trying to keep her out of hazards. I hate that. I'm forced to micro manage and this also pisses off Stinkapee.

We finally found a restaurant that was not crowded at all. Basically, it sat about 40 and there were about 4 people in the whole space. Perfect I thought.

The waitress came, and was very charmed by Stinkapee asking for tempura. Stinkapee also informed the waitress that she was going to make tempura at home. In other posts I'll write more about the actual lunch and how it went.

I want to jump to what happened when we were getting back in the car to leave the visited neighbourhood. There were these two white men are walking up the street and speaking loudly. I am in the process of putting Stinkapee in our car, and one of them is saying to the other:

"You know, the major problem with Canada is that try saying any racial slur and someone is going to have something to say about it - except if it's about the First Nations. If I say "that stupid drunken Indian" right here on the street - chances are no one is going to say anything."

Now I heard this just as I was closing Stinkapee's car door, to which I said: "Oh I'd have something to say.. I'd have a few choice words" To which he then said - "well, I' really sorry - and I'm glad you would but I mean most others."

I got in my car, and immediately Stinkapee asks me why she doesn't see more First Nations people. I said to her, because the government made a bad decision and decided many of them needed to live in their own neighbourhoods - called reserves. Then she asked me why the people in history made such bad choices. I told her it was a lotof people who live on the goddess mother earth's planet have parents that didn't deal with their emotions. Do you talk about your emotions Stinkapee. "Yes, I do." she replied.

Well, many people don't. In fact, the parents of some people in government have parents which are Durselys. And their grandparents, and their grandparents are durselys too. And when you're a dursely, you make bad choices, and choices that hurt people.

"I never want to be a dursely Papi." she says. "You could never be Stinkapee. I love you." I reply. "Papi" she continues, can we go to Disney World.

*Boy it just keeps on coming*

Constant Mothering

So, I just got into an argument, or was it a non-argument with my partner about my constant need for attention in a particular fashion, the mothering fashion. Yes, a constant validation that only a mother can offer (which mine will not - and yes my little boy is angry about that)

I want my attention, I want my attention, I want my attention. I want it at all costs. I went to counseling today... ... I'm having a realization about my friendship with my friend Charles. You see, him and I are starting a men's group, which incorporates journaling, reading, and reflection. But he just told me he's kinda not into writing. And I thought about how it would be great if he knew about blogging.

But then again, who am I to talk. I'm really similar to him in that I'm addicted to work... all the time. I just so happen to have a partner with boundaries, and so - she expects me to follow thru on what I commit to. Not so for him.

And even with the partner, it has taken me years to move - and i'm still struggling. Go back and read some of earlier posts... i'm still in a lot ways still in that place.


Anyway, I saw this doc on Metellica, DD talks about this on her site, in which the band is going thru some really tough times and so hires a psychotherapist to come and see them once a week to work out their stuff. I envision something like this for me and my group. Of course, who's got the deep pockets to pay for it on Metellica's scale? Well, Metellica. Maybe we all wouldn't see the therapist every week - maybe it would be once a month.

But it would take some serious commitment.

And would probably end my constant need to be mothered all the time by my partner. I need to take control of my serious lack of emotional care from my parents. I need to take control of this. Right now, I'm just total ball of .. well ... old rage. I talked to my counsel today and released a lot of anger - an anger charge that seems like it is endless. I don't stop. I feel like I'm always angry.

So, I beat up my crazy landlord, that madman - I gave him all my rage. Jumped on his face, threw across the room. Gave him round house, kicks and side kicks. I elbowed him, I kicked him - this of course all in the comfort of my therapists' office.

I think I need to do that everyday. It was my brother I was beating up. It was probably also the rest of my birth family that I am angry at that I don't have a chance to tell off in person. And of course, I don't have a chance to beat up... though I think I'd like too.

Everyone one of them needs a good beating by me. No talking. Just beating. Maybe i shouldn't write this. Maybe it's not safe. I'm having thoughts around me being a "dangerous Black man" that one needs to be careful of.

You know, I saw today as mothering myself. Now, if i could just keep the ball rolling. I put my call out for my group out in my blog and keep you all informed of what happens next.

THE SHMOLIANthe birth of a new baby

The latest edition to our household is already 8 months old. I feel shocked at how little I wrote about the birth. But I just wasn't able to commit to doing the writing just yet.

It was very moving and emotional and intense. It was frightening. It was joyful. It was scary. It was natural. It was birth. My daughter was there. The mid-wives were there. We filmed it. We watched it. Again.

IN some previous posts I think I've talked about the importance of being present for this child, knowing that he is a boy-child and knowing how boy children - specifically Black boy children are under-mis educated and pretty well... left back.

But b4 I get all theoretical on you, let me just write my feelings down, I mean for gods sake the point of this blog was to talk about my feelings. First the birth: it was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I mean, I wasn't emotionally present for stinkapee - I would say - I mean - I was there but only in body. You should see my eyes in some of the pictures of that day. I look like a fucking zombie.

I don't even think I was there. It was like a was on another planet. Some place far far away. I mean my head is exploding right now just thinking about how I felt in the moment. My young self didn't even really believe it was all happening. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Oh shit... I need to get a hold of myself.

So when I think about Shomalian, I think - the opposite. I has present and excited and really interested in the birth. Our life was different physically, but more importantly, I was seeing a counselor, attending a mens group, facilitator of a young men's group against violence and reading. Then slowly things started to change and I didn't know what to do. Well that's not true either. Wow, writing is something else. Of course I knew what to do, I just didn't want to change anything. I wanted to stay miserable and angry and complain. I still want to be angry... okay I'm ranting now.

Back to the day of the birth. It was an unbelievably beautiful day. I was shitting bricks though cause 4 days before, I had been preparing for (the baby's) arrival. DD was having light contractions on the Thursday (he wasn't born until the following Monday) But because of the quick birth of Stinkapee, I thought - i guess we all thought it best to be ready. So, the midwives came over, I paced up and down a little - and I even had my trusty video camera.

Gotta go pick up my daughter - more later.
I

THE VOICES IN MY HEADand how need to get them out

I was reading "I don't want to talk about it" (Terrence Real, Author) not long ago. Not long ago at all in fact, say just a couple of minutes. The chapter is called Two Inner Children. Even though the person Real describes doesn't look anything like me, I definitely had a a-ah moment. Even as I write this I'm starting to get tired.

But I'm going to fight this. My body starts to shut down when things start to get too emotional. Seriously, it does. It even happens with my counselor, in her office - I can't even believe it.

So I'm reading the book and he's talking about one of his clients, a mid-twenties man who says he likes to spend most of his time practicing "self immolation". And I thought to myself, what it this, and do I do that?

Then Terrence started to talk about what it meant, and then I knew I could relate. He writes:
"There was something wrong with me, something unlike other people - something frightening and bleak. I felt a perverse sense of blackness, (I'm not going into a race analysis here), sadness.."

I think I feel this all the time. No, I know I do. Last year I think I was doing pretty well, but then I just fell off the wagon. My men's group collapsed, and my community that was being built, shifted. No more did I have anyone to hide behind...

I've got to clean up now... I'll be back in a sec.

NBA player comes out

This is going to be very interesting. I immediately thought about how I understood myself when I was a child, how I understood what it means to be a man, a human, a living being, and the lines that were not to be crossed - for any reason. MORE TO COME
Please look at this, comments to follow.

I'M BACK

IT has been quite a bit since I wrote in this blog. Actually, I haven't really written anything, anywhere in a while. So I've got loads to share about my family, the movement that has happened there; my friendship developments, and OF COURSE the birth of my son. Hell, that deserves it's own blog for that matter. Speaking of which, have you seen my partner's blog?

So, where to begin. I suppose I should just start right? Ok...

WANNA BLOW YOUR HEAD OFF?

check out the latest (Feb 17, 2007) posting over at darkdaughta.blogspot.com