I cried as I kissed Xavi goodbye and left him with Lupe, the babysitter. I cried as I shut the door behind me and walked the ten steps to my car. I cried as I drove to work on auto-pilot after so many years of driving and running the same route. [...]
Treating our hungry toddler to his favorite meal during a four-hour car ride seemed a pretty easy task: Any decent small town off the Saw Mill Parkway had to have a pizza joint, right? So it was that we found ourselves at a spare storefront restaurant in Mount Kisco a few weeks ago.
It was [...]
Quite a start to the week: Ladies Love Cool James, Rozay and Fat Joe. Sincere didn’t go to #thecountryofAfrica for us to suffer through Mondays like that one. [...]
We pass each other and he doesn’t recognize me. It’s been over a decade since I’ve spoken to my father and much longer since I’ve actually seen him. I used to joke to myself that I wouldn’t recognize him if I passed him on the street. But I do and the jolt of recognition–the [...]
In advance of Father’s Day this Sunday, a few members of the PostBourgie crew (also known as The Grape Drink Mafia) got together to discuss our relationships with our dads and how they’ve evolved (or not) over the years. As we chatted, a theme seemed to emerge: the older we get, [...]
Me and Pops
It took me a long time to realize that my father wasn’t a bad man, just a bad husband for my mother. That’s what happens when you’re a mama’s boy and your mother not-so-subtly drills that into your impressionable mind.
Yes, he was deceitful. Yes, he was hyper-critical. Yes, he was [...]
(x-posted from BeyondBabyMamas.com)
Our Affirming Black and Brown Fatherhood Series has gotten such great response this week that we’re adding a second featured unmarried dad today. This is Stefan Malliet, a 32-year-old Brooklyn native and father to three-year-old son Kyle. We were struck by Stefan’s candor and insights, particularly as it relates to his rocky road toward harmonious [...]
Refer to the woman who has carried your child to term as ‘the mother of my child’, no-one bats an eyelid. Refer to her as ‘my baby-mama’ and folks bristle. Why would you call her such a thing? At root is a question over what it means — to use an antiquated, sexist, phraseology – to make an honest woman of her. [...]