Tagged: Marriage

Back in the Game: Beware of the Outlier

I was contemplating taking a happyhappyjoyjoy turn today and my man, Tyrone Mitchell, ruined it with this gem here:

Are you in love with me, or the idea of me?”

Somewhere, an ex of mine rolls her Eyes.

One of the things I realized as I grew into knowledge of myself after my first divorce was that I am not wired as the “typical” man is.

Oh, don’t get it twisted, a cursory glance will find the typical heterosexual male trappings –

  • a penchant for appreciating the female frame
  • affinity for following games played by other men as though they are life and death
  • a tendency towards laziness in regards to housework and indifference to the nuances of Interior Design

But if you hang around me long enough, it will occur to you that I don’t follow the traditional arc of mannish behavior.

I’ll spare you the details, as my blog isn’t a living breathing personal ad. (I see some of y’all) Just trust me on this. Or ask a friend of mine, one of the many female friends, or one of the few male friends I have…most of who are in a similar state.

Once I realized that I was different, I had to come to grips with the fact that I was always going to be different and that I needed to find a woman who would love me for me.

What I discovered, often WAYYY too late, is that I found women who loved the idea of me, but found the reality of loving me to be rather ponderous and counter-intuitive. Or frankly, too much damn hassle.

The problem with dating one of THOSE dudes, which is short hand for men who shrug off some of the effects male privilege and be…actual human beings who feel emotions and actually express them rather than slathering machismo all over those emotions in an effort to deny their existence… is that all those coping mechanisms you learned navigating the maze of Y chromosomes tend to be rather useless.

Playing the Food, Sex, and silence trump card will usually create an entirely different argument. And for GOD’s sake, please don’t ascribe a man’s immunity to The FSS card to some kind of diminished Masculinity. Ain’t really no coming back from that.

Sorry, always get a bit personal when I wander into that rabbit hole. *pauses and breathes…finds his Center…resumes*

When you live an existence outside what people assume, you tend to attract folks looking for a change of pace.

“Tired of typical dudes? Find you one of those Sensitive cats”

“You need to leave those stuck-up professional women alone and find you one of those Good hearted normal sistas”

(Yes these are actual quotes. You would be amazed what you can overhear dropping off a fried shrimp platter)

That Change of pace is needed and necessary. It can also be VERY misleading.

Let’s be honest, relationships tend to be very instinctive. You do what comes natural; what makes you comfortable.

If you have invested a significant amount of time in adjusting to the typical battle between men and women, you have a tendency to sink into that mode as a default setting. Encountering someone who flies in the face of such behavior can be rather off-putting and unsettling. At That point, you have a choice to make:

Learn how to walk all over again…or walk.

This post should serve as a cautionary tale for all people getting back into the game, particularly those who are exiting long term relationships or a series of men/women cut from the same cloth and created macros and shortcuts for handling conflict.

It’s a Whole New World, out there Folks. Be careful what you are wishing for when you rub the magic lamp.

Word to Iago.

Back in the Game: Don’t Fix Your relationship, Fix YOU

In yesterday’s thrilling episode post, we briefly touched on the importance of writing your personal owner’s manual.

Before getting all into that, I feel like I should back up a bit.

There is a point in every person’s life where they have to really laser in on their priorities and decide what exactly is important in their life.

This SOUNDS simple. Alas, it almost never is. My sense is that if it really was simple, then people wouldn’t continually trip up on this step.

Those of you children at home tend to have built in advantages when it comes to prioritizing, although many of you, bless your hearts over-indulge and create altars to your children at the expense of yourselves.

Those of us with children who do not live with us tend to create space for everything in their life EXCEPT their children. Something about the inevitable calling of Maaamaaa! Or DaaaDDyyy! From insistent little voices always seems to bump them up list.

But this isn’t THAT blog post. This is about YOU…or in my case, Me.

Among my critical failings is a tendency to get bogged down in details and minutiae. I will be working on a blog post/Paper/random assignment and I will get so caught up in trying to perfect a small detail that the overall project will tend to lag behind. But damn if the crown molding on the stairwell isn’t pristine and magnificent. Sorry about being 14 work days behind schedule, though.

The yearning to be with someone…to replace that which has been lost will push you to an obsessive focus on relationships and the role that those relationships play in your life.

But, Wait…

What if you’re missing the forest for the proverbial trees?

What if this new found obsession over who’s zooming and rooming with whom is coming at the detriment of YOU?

What if it wasn’t the relationship, it wasn’t HER/HIM, it wasn’t even YOU (in the context of that relationship?) but it was…YOU (in the context of EVERYTHING ELSE)

Let’s keep it real, shall we? Okay, maybe you’re not ready for that. So I will press on without you.

When I look back on my marriages (yes, plural) I realize that much of what made me difficult to love was never about me not being a good mate. For the most part, I was a pretty fabulous mate.

What failed me was what failed me in life. THOSE things led to me failing as a mate.

I have been accused of having some quit in me. This isn’t entirely false. This isn’t the whole story either.

Let us say you are on an assembly line and you’re supposed to screw in the bottom screws with a flat-tip screwdriver.

Thing is, you have two broken wrists and a Phillips Head screwdriver.

It isn’t an issue of commitment or work ethic that inhibits your production. You need the right tools and time to heal.

If you quit that job and go looking for another job with the same requirements without fixing the clear impediments to your goal, what are you REALLY accomplishing?

Basically, what today is about is a reinforcement of yesterday’s underlying point.

I’ll put my dollars to your donuts that if you are divorced, separated, de-booed sans legal impediments or even just plain singular and you are working HARD on a relationship that seems to be causing your more pain than pleasure (and not the kind of pain you like) then your focus is off a bit. Isolate what is wrong and address it.

Then watch the things that it was negatively impacting magically (but not so magically) improve.

Back in the Game: Avoiding Addiction in New Relationships

As the Calendar turns from One blatantly Commercial Holiday (Super Bowl Sunday) to another (Valentine’s Day), I find myself pondering what place love has in my life.  I have always had a particularly insightful POV on love, as I have been working in the restaurant business for the vast majority of the past twenty-two years.   I can tell Blind dates from silver anniversary dates from Dontbotheruswejustheretotalkcauseourspousesareontousandwereplottinganexitstrategybeforeslobbingeachotherdownintherestaurantparkinglot. dates within the first 20 minutes.

I’ve seen:

Love at first sight

Lust at first Sight

And by far, the most entertaining for the spectator and most confounding for the participants:

Luck at first Sight (this is when someone who would be COMPLETELY disregarded is the beneficiary of a completely random course of events)

The tragedy is that all that I saw and learned during this 22 year lab didn’t help me in the least.

As I find myself moving towards new beginnings in my own life, my mind turns toward the magic of the early days of relationships.  Over the next few days I will behold a larger number of relationships than usual as Valentine’s Day on a weekend tends to spread out the VD celebrations.  The newest relationships are always the most intriguing to watch.

It’s all so…new.

It’s all so fresh.

It feels.so.Good.

But…Is it healthy?

Stop. Pause. Wait.

Sit still and Look CAREFULLY at the situation that you find yourself in.  Is it REALLY healthy for you?  Are you edified by your relationship? Is your partner edified by your relationship?  Have you even contemplated if this relationship is healthy for THEM?  Do.You.Care?  Would you leave if it wasn’t?

Yeah. Contemplate those and come back.

My own experience has been that people, particularly those still healing from the ends of previous relationships can find themselves so anxious to reconnect that they inject themselves into circumstances that are less about the other party and more about the feeling that comes upon them when they are with that person.

If you said “hey, that sounds like chasing a high”, kindly pull out your smart phone and play Bejewelled Birds, your work here is done. Your fellow readers are catching up. Please sit still and wait for the class to catch up.  Thanks.

The hardest thing for me as a divorcee has been separating actual love from those feelings that feel like love, but actually are just “highs”.

Oh, now you don’t know what I’m talking about?


  • Those faux trembles when you don’t hear from them.
  • That rush you feel when they come back, even though you were pissed at them literally SECONDS ago
  • Doing things you swore you would NEVER do because of how they made you feel with other folks but you do anyway in an effort to chase the feeling.

It is a dicey proposition, avoiding this kind of behavior when the nights get cold…and long…and solitary.

Hell, it’s a dicey proposition when the nights are warm, short, and Full of warm bodies (the same one over and over or a different one…same deal)

Those of you playing Angry Tetris or texting Brett Favre Pictures of your Junk Drawers can rejoin this blog post already in progress.

The obvious question is: How do you know?

Me, Myself, Personally?

My advice is to get some YOU time in. Understand yourself.  Learn what really makes you tick.  It is worth noting that the same behavior that people engage in the mundane parts of their life takes over in their relationships.  People are out here pressing buttons on their new smartphone to see what happens, learning through trial and error.

That’s cool and the gang, for your smart phone.

Learn yourself.  Read the owner’s manual.

You know, the owner’s manual.  Your owner’s manual is the guide to your physical, mental, and emotional self.

Oh…you don’t have one of those?  Then you need to get off Twittermatchfacebookplanetzoosk.com and get to writing it.  You’re wasting everyone’s time here.

Seriously. Get. On. It.

You’re playing with fire out here.  You can’t run to the SprintVerizonAT&T-mobileBoost store for help when you press buttons in your life in a funky sequence and you brick your life.

Inkognegroings on

The only thing better than Hosting your own Internet Radio Show is being a guest on someone else’s.

If you:

Gotta Daddy.

Are a Daddy

Momma a child with a Daddy

Momma a child without a Daddy

There is wit and wisdom (and hilarity) to be found in this link.

Co-Parenting Matters is an invaluable resource for Divorced and single parents. I hope the show blesses you as much listening as it did for me being on it.

ON: Men Tending to Their OWN Knitting

The incessant glare of the Blogosphere on the minds, hearts, and souls of Black women would be helpful if it wasn’t so not actually ABOUT Black women.  A careful review of the general narrative in these articles suggests that there is a concerted effort to push back against Black women’s self- determination.  If I was prone to Tin-Foil Fitteds I would almost suggest a conspiracy, but that requires a level of coordination and cooperation that Black men just can’t seem to manage.

Let me be honest for a second.  This post is very difficult for me to write. As a certified member of the male gender, my impulse is to let women fight their own battles.  That impulse takes a back seat to dealing with my brethren on how they treat my sisters.  My goal here is to address my issues without belaboring them purely for entertainment sake.  As tempting as it is to really go in on this stuff, the reality is that such behavior detracts from real debate.  and if we don’t actually HAVE This damn debate, then this kind of behavior is sure to continue.

For every post I read entitled: The Sad Clown:Four Reasons Why Funny Girls Finish Last or “Are 21st Century Women ready for a Marriage Partnership?”, I skip seven.  At a certain point, they all tend to read alike.

The first post came courtesy of the FreshXpress.  Idu Charles, who proclaims himself an educated man, thinker and unrestricted dreamer opens his piece innocently enough:

One thing is clear as crystal: Women have changed, and men have not.

It seems simple enough, right?  I’ve been suggesting as such for a long while, that as their economic viability and opportunity has increased women’s ambitions and hopes will change.

That wasn’t exactly where Mr. Charles was headed.  Mr. Charles goes on to pose a series of loaded questions that essentially chastise women for having the audacity to…evolve.  (Damn them; if only they had stayed in their place…)

In the case of the Fine Brothers at VSB, it’s simply Entertainment.  They are who they are; they do what they do.  I don’t read them often, but when I do, they are consistently well-written and funny.  Now mind you, it is entertaining to the point that you read it in a vacuum.  But since I don’t live in a vacuum, I tend not to always evaluate their posts in that fashion.

My problem with the post doesn’t necessarily lie at VSB’s doorstep.

Not. Necessarily.

One man’s entertainment is another man’s gospel truth, it seems.  What The Champ may have only meant for shits, giggles and page views, was used by armies of Y-chromosome-owners as some kind of Dead Sea Scroll, physical proof that these women are getting too big for their capris.

That, in fact, is what is constantly going on online. From the indirect and passive aggressive tone of Mr. Charles to the good natured but easily co-opted entertainment of VSB, The meme is being reinforced on a daily basis.

“Dear Woman, stop trying to progress, it only will get more difficult for you to work with us.  Kindly Stay in your lane so we  can stay in ours. You know, the one that dictates your ability to define yourself.”

If you think I’m going to be sitting around here a slapping around shaky arguments on TWiB, you’re mistaken.   I’ve got exactly ONE more post on this tired ass topic.  And I am going to take my sweet time getting around to that, cause clearly, by virtue of the umbrage circulating, men are amused and women are perturbed by this topic and it can be very easy to get bogged down.

I am already resisting the urge to make this any more entertaining.  Sure, I could do a point by point take down, but for what?  Okay…just this last one, I promise.

Mr. Charles suggests that somehow because a woman works hard and a man might have a more significant role in the at home responsibilities that the child would naturally cling towards the home-making parent.

Wait. You think I am lying, don’t you?

What if you met a man who will stay home with the children (even while bringing in some money) and you continue working long hours?  It sounds good, but keep in mind that when children are drawn to their mother, it is in large part due to the fact that the mother is perceived over time as the nurturing parent.  Are you ready to have a man who will literally encroach on your dreams about motherhood and help make decisions about the child’s dress, schools, toys, food, and everything else?

I cannot make this up.  Does this man know NOTHING of the power of the womb?  Does he even HAVE children? See?  The urge is great.  I must resist.

The Truth is, so must you.  If you see pieces of this nature today (and you will, because, hey…it IS Thursday, and it’s really the last chance to get major Page views before the holiday weekend) Just click the X and Roll out.

Don’t tell a soul.

Pretend you never saw it.

If you ignore them, they WILL go away.

Ink answers Chele Vol. 2

Thanks to an Inexplicable service outage in the middle of the work day I had to dust off the Dinosaur and Post up my response to BnB’s questions for the fellas

1.When a man is no longer interested in a woman, why can’t he be responsible enough to let that woman know he is no longer feeling her rather than pulling “disappearing acts” (i.e. stop the calling, texting, emailing) and hoping she figures it out on her own?

Firstly, are we SURE women didn’t invent this?  Okay, that’s projecting, let me stop. 

The reality is that ultimately, we run out of stuff to say. 

Being particularly sensitive to rejection, I tend to just stop communicating rather than issuing some sort of Dear Jane call/text/email/carrier pigeon. 

The “Fade to black” is a common tactic employed by men AND women. 

When you think  about it, its pretty cut and dry.  It says:

“I do not have anything else to say.  If I did, I would be contacting you.”

Is it possible they have been somehow inhibited from commucation? Sure.  Its POSSIBLE.  But I would then refer you to my favorite Razor

Occam’s razor (or Ockham’s razor[1]), is the meta-theoretical principle that “entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity” (entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem) and the conclusion thereof, that the simplest solution is usually the correct one.

Bear in mind, the alternative is someone calling you who doesn’t REALLY have anything to say.  Who wants that?

2. What does a man mean when he says “He’s not ready for a relationship right now” or “I’m not ready to be serious”?

It means moderate your expectations.  It means YES he wants to have sex, but NO he doesn’t wish to explore the complexities of a relationship. Reading more into that conversation is pointless.

3. Why do mean lie about stupid stuff? Why is everything a fact-finding expedition? Why do I have to dig it out of them like I’m mining for gold?

Truths hurts.  Some truths are avoided because we don’t wanna hurt YOU. Some because we don’t wanna hurt ourselves.  Mostly the latter.

Many times the art of telling the truth revolves around being who we WISH we were and being who we are. 

4. Why won’t a man just tell you what their thoughts are feelings are about your relationship?

Expressing emotionalism is the most vulnerable form of communication.  When boys are raised to express emotionalism they will be equipped to express that to their prospective spouses. 

Are you preparing the young men in your life to do that?  Surely you don’t think its going to come naturally…

5. Why even start a sentence with “Baby, just let me explain…”

What are we supposed to say?

“Hey…you know how that is. ” *kanyeshrug*  “What’s for dinner?”

15 minutes on What scares the crap out of me.

I am by my nature, a difficult person to scare.  I am a father of three small to medium boys with a wife whos is as prone to shreiks of fear as she is feats of amazing mental and spiritual (and occasionally physical) strength.

As such, I dont let much shake me.

Except one thing.

The prospect of waking up at the Dawn of the Congressional Christmas break without National Health Care reform Scares the shit out of me.

But Why NOW?  Health care in the US is the best in the world?  (you.  Shut up.)

Ok, maybe not the best but do you REALLY want the alternative?

The alternative to WHAT?  ANOTHER decade of being shut out of the health care market because I have a job where I am largely paid by strangers?

Here is a secret, boys and girls…A deep, dark secret that I am taking this opportunity to share with all of you.

My youngest son has been diagnosed with sickle cell anemia.  This is a fact that my wife and I knew was a very real possibility when we got married, so we didn’t really plan to have children.  TFMI also had the sickle cell trait (as do Mrs. Ink and Me), so after rolling the dice successfully twice before…I wasn’t really interested in having more children, for 1000 reasons.  Mrs. Ink just plain didn’t want kids.

But alack and alas, here we are.  with a child who has a serious hereditary disease (how serious? The boy qualifies for Make-a-wish) and Faces a LIFETIME of medical challenges in order for him to lead a normal life.

TODAY, He is under my wife’s insurance, who as a school teacher for a large urban district in Texas, has PRETTY good insuance which is only affordable provided SHE is the only one on it.

The notion of me joining her on her insurance apparently is unpalatable to the good taxpayers of Texas, because that would send her monthly premium up 600%.  Adding the boy only raised it 400%, what a bargain.

Here is the hook, My wife would like NOTHING better than to step out of the Classroom and retire to run our family business full time.

Fat effin chance of that happening until Health Care reform passes.  So we wait. and watch. and pray.

Pray with us and for us, please.

Inkognegro Digs in the crates and comes up with a classic.

In case you find yourself reading this post and thinking…I’ve read this before; you have.

I wrote it for my previous blog.

Its just as true now as it was then.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

The most unfortunate thing about the war between Black men and Black women is the fact that it rages on whether there are headlines to follow or not. As we speak some blogger somewhere is waxing eloquent as to how it is that the other sex just doesn’t get it, piling on anecdotes and embellishing and embracing stereotypes.  Of course that is how adversity is. Well that is how it is supposed to be anyway. The moment brothers stop trying to rein in the SuperWomen they discover, turning them into Relics from an era gone by, will be the moment Women will stop feeling emasculated. Yes, brothers, if you stumble upon a multi-degreed head of household with her pedicured foot in corporate America’s ass, attempting to turn her into (yeah..i DARE you to find a Black woman who embodied the kind of character Donna Reed or June Cleaver represented on TV) is going to feel a lot like emasculation. and NO ONE, even a WOMAN, wants to be emasculated.

Let us be clear. The second half of the 20th century put the Black woman in an awkward position. It made HER the hunter gatherer, cause nurturing doesn’t put food on the table in enough quantity to keep up with the rapidly rising standard of living. Sacrifices were made, and the overall mindset of the black woman evolved as she started to embrace a role she….(deep breath) was not created to play.

Let me stop here and elaborate.

Men and Women are EQUAL…but they are not the same.

Equal does NOT mean the same.

IF you think it does, try slipping 2 rolls of quarters under a stripper’s G string instead of a 20 and see how far THAT gets you.

(yes i admit i drove this whole post JUST so I could type one of my favorite analogies. now back to my subject)

Women have become more like men than they were ever intended.

While many in my rapidly expanding circle have a tendency to eschew overt Scriptural references…allow me to be QUITE specific:

Ephesians 5: 22-33 Amplified version

22Wives, be subject (be submissive and adapt yourselves) to your own husbands as [a service] to the Lord.

23For the husband is head of the wife as Christ is the Head of the church, Himself the Savior of [His] body.

24As the church is subject to Christ, so let wives also be subject in everything to their husbands.

25Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her,

26So that He might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the Word,

27That He might present the church to Himself in glorious splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such things [that she might be holy and faultless].

28Even so husbands should love their wives as [being in a sense] their own bodies. He who loves his own wife loves himself.

29For no man ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and carefully protects and cherishes it, as Christ does the church,

30Because we are members (parts) of His body.

31For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother and shall be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.

32This mystery is very great, but I speak concerning [the relation of] Christ and the church.

33However, let each man of you [without exception] love his wife as [being in a sense] his very own self; and let the wife see that she respects and reverences her husband [[a]that she notices him, regards him, honors him, prefers him, venerates, and esteems him; and [b]that she defers to him, praises him, and loves and admires him exceedingly]. [I Pet. 3:2.]

As you may or may not have read, I got married in May of 1997, at the not all that tender age of 26. The above scripture was not only read, but a sermonette was PREACHED on that passage DURING my wedding. (it should be noted that full fledged church was held on that day, a soul got saved, both the bride and the groom caught some semblence of the Spirit and it ran the wedding a full hour over schedule, which cost the groom a not all that nominal overtime fee for the limo. All that there, didnt sink in, obviously, because my dumbass was up to my elbows in a relative stranger not ONE year later.

You might ask why that was, and why I was able to live to tell the tale, especially considering the fact that my then-wife was 2+ months pregnant with our first child. Youll have to trust me that I had my reasons and that I was spared for good cause. I am only pointing this factoid out to let you know that I am NOT without sin.

That I am MUCH, MUCH, MUCH, better at deciphering YOUR problems and how you should HANDLE YOUR BI than I am at regulating what happens in these here parts.

I KNEW what was expected of me. I DID not know what I was getting myself into.

  • I did not know that somehow Married men are more attractive than single men.
  • I did not suspect that some people in the world think NOTHING of bedding someone else’s spouse.
  • I thought I was bigger than my desire to touch and be touched by a woman.(I may be NOW…i damn sure wasn’t then…and I probably still am not.)
  • I underestimated the ability of a woman (one woman in particular) to hold a grudge.
  • I completely misunderstood the enduring, never ending damage of infidelity. Infidelity is SOOOO BAD, that women you DIDNT cheat on will look at you askance when you tell them you had a one night stand almost 8 years ago with a woman you no longer converse with while you were married.

I am of the overall opininon that 90% of premarital counseling classes are a joke.

Think about it, You spend your entire relationship trying to avoid the very issues that could probably lead to the death of your relationship, when those are the VERY issues you need to approach head on. Once you do that, how can you proceed on some kind of schedule, knowing that around every corner is a discovery about each other that will challenge everything you know about that person.

Marriage is a wonderful and powerful institution. It is older than Communion and baptism and the very bedrock to culture as we know it. Getting it right is the difference between one nation under a groove and one nation under God, Indivisible with liberty and justice for all.

Three the Hard Way: High InFidelity Pt 1

Previously on Three The Hard Way

In the process of trying to get to the core of my status as a father of three, I have not done my proper due diligence in painting a proper picture of just HOW my first marriage ended up an exercise in putting on appearances and thinly veiled contempt.

The Long answer is incompatibility and an inability to work together and grow together. But me and experience has proven that answer flatly insufficient.

95% of the stumbles I experienced in BOTH of my marriages could have been easily remedied with some honest and frank conversation and introspection on all parts.

Even though through the magic of 20/10 hindsight we would NEVER have progressed beyond casual dating partner and have both matured and moved on to successful marriages, I am confident that we would have scrapped at it and ground out an ugly win. But that other 5% kept getting in the way.

NOTHING will wreck a marriage like infidelity.

Even the most emotionless single episodic infidelity in the worst Marriage is the metaphorical equivalent of throwing your child out of a burning three story building when there is a kiddie pool full of alcohol garnished with shards of plate glass directly beneath you.

Sure you See it…but that doesnt mean you can avoid it.

The fall may not kill you, instantly. But 99% of the time you will wish it did. The aftermath is FAR worse than any Death your child(relationship) might come upon.

I have done that.

More than once.

I’ve never hit the pool directly.

OHHHH but I have been close.

Close enough for the Baby/relationship to be too injured to live a full life.

Once I even Killed it.

You can only throw the same baby out the window so many times before the baby’s body just gives up.

Infidelity is something that can happen to ANYONE.  Your House (life) catches fire…and your impulse comes to grab that Baby (your relationship) and toss it out to safety.

Who wants to have their baby burn up in the house?  No one, right?

Then work on putting the fire out…instead of throwing the baby out of the window like a suitcase.

(The ink says this Metaphor needs more flushing out….Part II REAL soon.)

Three the Hard Way – Inkognegro 3.1: The Momma’s Boy

Author’s Note: forgive the tardiness, Labor, newborn babies, custodial parenting, stuff like that intruded and I ended up spending more time Living the story than writing about it.  My bad.  You won’t miss a detail, I promise.

Previously on Three The Hard Way

In the aftermath of 9/11, there was enough flux in my life that I could pretend my family life was back to normal.  I trudged through The fall of 2001 with my head down, saying very little verbally, but tackling my new found passion of writing.  Writing at that time was like the therapy that I had never experienced.

I was participating on an anonymous group blog called Kindred with a bunch of established Bloggers.  The rush I felt as a part of that immensely talented collective inspired me to creative heights I have NOT found since.  I was BLOGGING with the Best Black Bloggers in  the world way back in TWO THOUSAND ONE, SON!

I spent the autumn oblivious to my family, Engaging just enough to keep everyone quiet about the turmoil of the past and to focus on how I was going to survive eighteen years of Loveless marriage while raising my sons.   Suffice it to say that it never occured to me that they might NOTICE that mommy and daddy didn’t really like each other all that much.  That 3.0 ALREADY could tell that something wasn’t quite right even as he was concentrating on the wonders of Potty Training.

That 3.1 was a momma’s boy was inevitable.  That he resembled TFMI was merely coincidence.  For someone who spent the last 4 months in the womb of a woman whose husband only occasionally shielded his hopeless outlook on marital bliss and family, it is difficult to imagine that I could have built up a great deal of cool points in utero.

But none of that stopped me.  I was a man who only vaguely remembered having a Father in the house.  I told ANYONE who would listen to my digital rantings, that i Would NEVER be THAT father.  Id Stick in through thick and thin.  Wasn’t gonna make it until death did us part, but I would DEFINITELY make Graduation.

Famous Last words.