Perfect

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She looks at him, he looks at her. The beginning to what is supposed to end with three kids, a diamond ring , a dog named lucky, a gorgeous house and a white picket fence. Instead of a fairytale, she is blessed with a beautiful child, yes, but everything else is missing. What happened that the fairytale didn’t happen? Why is there no dog, no husband, no gorgeous house? Why are those things replaced with bills and strife and a life fit for the villain in those fairytales? I didn’t try to kill a princess with an apple. I didn’t try to take over the world. I just wanted my beautiful child (check) my husband, my dog, my gorgeous house and my picket fence. Being a baby mama doesn’t equate to being too much these days. Baby mamas are everywhere you turn. At every WIC appointment, at every social service building,there we are. I hate that my son has a baby mama for a mama. I hate that me and his dad can’t get along. I hate that my son does not have my last name. So many things I hate and I hate that its all my fault. For I laid down with a man, who I knew wasn’t ready to be a dad, much less a husband. But I cannot and will not let my child see just a freaking baby mama. I wont let him see a promiscuous women in me. I will strive to be better than that name. I want him to see a strong black independent mother, women, role model. I want him to see me as the women, the type, he will want to marry when he gets older. I want him to not just be a baby daddy with three or more children. I want him to be a husband that will give a lucky lady three kids, a dog named lucky, a gorgeous house with a white picket fence and a diamond ring. In order for me to make sure that is happens, it starts with me, the baby mama, his mother.