The DJ's wife on...
Being the poster child for Planned Parenthood.
Nah, I'm not really, but I damn well should be. I should speak to middle school and high school girls all over the country and warn them about the perils of adolescent relationships. And of course, I would talk to them based on my very own relationship with MY daughters father who, from this blog on, will be referred to as "RDB". Retarded Daddy's Blood. Go figure.
Anyhow, I began this relationship with RDB when I was a mere 23 years old. I was single and free to run the streets and so was he. And we did. Together.
Now, in the beginning - all was lovely. We laughed and played and dated like normal couples do. Went to concerts, comedy shows, plays, the whole nine. All was bumping along pretty nicely and about 2 years in, we find out we are expecting. Joy. Apprehension. An overwhelming sense of responsibility that I had not felt in all of my 25 years. The emotions ran wild. Was I ready? Who cares? I was in "love" and everyone KNOWS that when you are in love and having a baby, you're going to make it work, aren't you? So wrong. Mistake #1.
Mistake #2 came when, at about 4 months pregnant, we moved into a dinky 2 bedroom apartment together. I was working at a firm downtown. He was slangin' rocks on the block. Why lie?! He did make an attempt at doing the right thing by doing various odd jobs. But in the end, the hood loved him and he loved it back. Plus, what did Caine say in Menace? "Working for minimum wage was never my style..." Yeah that was RDB all the way. We argued about not having enough money. We fought a few times. When I was 6 months along, we fought so badly, I ended up getting choked on the kitchen floor and he ended up getting pistol-whupped by a pretty pissed off pregnant woman...you guessed it, mistake #3. Still, I was tryin to make it work for the sake of our unborn child.
And then our daughter was born a few months into 1999. She was 7 pounds, 3 ounces of perfect. Things pretty much stayed the same the first six months of her life. We loved a lot. We fought a lot. Back and forth, back and forth.
And then one day, RDB's newly released from prison friend came over to our apartment. He had asked for water but we ran a self-service household so we told him where the glasses were and "get it yo self". He came out into the living room where I was and shook one of the baby's glass jars. In it, little pieces of rock rolled around. Instead of losing it completely, I played it off. But inside, I was heated. Really heated.
It all started to make sense. The noises at 3am. The request to keep the glass baby food jars. This fool was cookin up in my kitchen!
To make a long and tragic story short...I ended up leaving RDB in December of 1999. A mere 9 months after our child was born. While it felt like a hard decision, it really was easy to see that I needed to be gone. And so I left.
I stayed single (but dated) most of 2000. In 2001, I met the man that would be my husband. There was no looking back.
Every once in a while, I will hear from RDB. He'll say some off the cuff remark about what his chances are with me (nil) and how much he misses me. LOL. Don't believe it - I don't.
Our lives went on: he went on to have another child with some young dumb thang, and I of couse got married.
And that would be the story that I would tell, if I were the spokesperson for PP.
Being the poster child for Planned Parenthood.
Nah, I'm not really, but I damn well should be. I should speak to middle school and high school girls all over the country and warn them about the perils of adolescent relationships. And of course, I would talk to them based on my very own relationship with MY daughters father who, from this blog on, will be referred to as "RDB". Retarded Daddy's Blood. Go figure.
Anyhow, I began this relationship with RDB when I was a mere 23 years old. I was single and free to run the streets and so was he. And we did. Together.
Now, in the beginning - all was lovely. We laughed and played and dated like normal couples do. Went to concerts, comedy shows, plays, the whole nine. All was bumping along pretty nicely and about 2 years in, we find out we are expecting. Joy. Apprehension. An overwhelming sense of responsibility that I had not felt in all of my 25 years. The emotions ran wild. Was I ready? Who cares? I was in "love" and everyone KNOWS that when you are in love and having a baby, you're going to make it work, aren't you? So wrong. Mistake #1.
Mistake #2 came when, at about 4 months pregnant, we moved into a dinky 2 bedroom apartment together. I was working at a firm downtown. He was slangin' rocks on the block. Why lie?! He did make an attempt at doing the right thing by doing various odd jobs. But in the end, the hood loved him and he loved it back. Plus, what did Caine say in Menace? "Working for minimum wage was never my style..." Yeah that was RDB all the way. We argued about not having enough money. We fought a few times. When I was 6 months along, we fought so badly, I ended up getting choked on the kitchen floor and he ended up getting pistol-whupped by a pretty pissed off pregnant woman...you guessed it, mistake #3. Still, I was tryin to make it work for the sake of our unborn child.
And then our daughter was born a few months into 1999. She was 7 pounds, 3 ounces of perfect. Things pretty much stayed the same the first six months of her life. We loved a lot. We fought a lot. Back and forth, back and forth.
And then one day, RDB's newly released from prison friend came over to our apartment. He had asked for water but we ran a self-service household so we told him where the glasses were and "get it yo self". He came out into the living room where I was and shook one of the baby's glass jars. In it, little pieces of rock rolled around. Instead of losing it completely, I played it off. But inside, I was heated. Really heated.
It all started to make sense. The noises at 3am. The request to keep the glass baby food jars. This fool was cookin up in my kitchen!
To make a long and tragic story short...I ended up leaving RDB in December of 1999. A mere 9 months after our child was born. While it felt like a hard decision, it really was easy to see that I needed to be gone. And so I left.
I stayed single (but dated) most of 2000. In 2001, I met the man that would be my husband. There was no looking back.
Every once in a while, I will hear from RDB. He'll say some off the cuff remark about what his chances are with me (nil) and how much he misses me. LOL. Don't believe it - I don't.
Our lives went on: he went on to have another child with some young dumb thang, and I of couse got married.
And that would be the story that I would tell, if I were the spokesperson for PP.
posted by The DJs WIFE at 3:41 PM
1 Comments:
I think we all have a "dont end up like me" story to tell. You live and you learn and you hope that they eventually leave you the fuck alone and never return.
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