I was a goody-two-shoes growing up—plain and simple. I always wanted to do the right thing in everything I did. I was the teachers pet in many of my homerooms and in high school I was the end-all-be-all student right through graduation. I was senior class vice president, a Song Girl (cheerleaders that danced during half time). I sung in the schools premier choir that you had to be selected just to be a part of and I played every sport that I could.
My athletic career began when I was in the fifth grade right through high school. I was every parents dream—a child who did all the right things. I went to school, earned excellent grades, and I did not speak back or cause conflict; I was a Stepford child. As a teenager I was moody, I had horrible cramps, and I suffered with hair problems no young lady should have to go through. I attended high school from Fall 1980–Spring 1984 at the height of the Jehri Curl invasion. Since I hated doing my hair it seemed like the best hair style to get. For those who do not know anything about Jehri Curls you have to have moisturizer to keep your hair from getting dry and looking a mess. There were a couple of times I would forget to see if we had moisturizer in the house when I washed my hair and would have to go to school looking a dry haired mess.
The worst and funniest time that I had hair drama at school was when I was in a hair show and had to go to school the next day with my hair in the style it was in from the show. I am a former model. I would do hair shows when I started out; it was a lot of fun. I could not see what style was being done on my head while on stage. What I did know was that when you are starting out in the modeling industry the easier you are to work with the more work you can get in the future. When it was over I had about one inch of fire engine red hair on the tips with the rest colored black. I had rhinestones and different colors all over on my face, it was spectacular and I made the cover of a magazine.
The hair show was Sunday and school was the very next day. Let me tell you if I had it to do all over again I would have had them dye my hair that night before we (my family) left the show. One of my friends had seen me from a bus she said she thought I had on a red hat. So many people just looked at me like, “what is she doing now?” See even for African-Americans I am an odd ball. Most think I am trying to be white. My mom and dad know I am just me my best friends know I am just me and accept me as I am. Needless to say I was a colorful person when I was young and I am even more colorful as a just turned forty-three years old. I write this to give another side of why I am so upset with my oldest niece and her daughter and how I am trying to understand this pathology that they have latched onto for a way of life.
I have my oldest niece’s children with me right now, we had spoken to each other over the past few months trying to figure out which set of kids would visit me this year—either her kids or my sister’s kids. Her kids won out to my mother’s dismay because she really wanted the girls (my sister’s kids) to have a vacation with me. I have my niece’s kids and it has turned into a disaster. I am waiting for her to come and get her kids now.
When my niece and her kids arrived I did not know how much her relationship with her oldest had deteriorated until after she left. Nor did I know how far behind the oldest child was in reading and math. They arrived early Thursday morning June 18th. After everyone had a nap, we went to the mall and then I took the kids to my son’s basketball game. While we were at the mall I took the oldest child to a store that had clothes to fit her body type. She may only be eleven years old but her body is that of a fifteen year old. I did not know it then but I see it now how she started manipulating me. It worked for about a week. I was trying to see how she feels asking her why she has so much anger.
I was really trying to figure out the best way for her parents to help her in the long run. What I did not know was that she was calling her mother every night telling her how mean I was to her and how unfair I was treating her. This became evident on the third or fourth day after she and her sister had peed on my son’s somewhat-new mattress for the third time. Last year I found out that the oldest had a problem with wetting the bed; her mother had sent GoodNights for her to use. Whether or not there is an actual problem as opposed to laziness, I don’t know. I will err on the side of laziness from what I see. It is a whole year later, why would I suspect that there is still a problem the little one (eight years old) sleeps in pull-ups. Imagine how I felt smelling pee on my son’s mattress and then to find it soaked through the mattress right to the captain’s bed platform. So much urine had soaked through that an imprint was made from the mattress onto the platform.
That night after I had taken the mattress off of the bed to air out I told the girls that they would have to sleep on the floor from now on. The oldest calls her mother on the cell phone that was purchased for her (her second the first was tossed into a pool) to tell her I am making her and her sister sleep on the floor. My niece calls me about a minute or two later like she was just calling to talk and then ask me why the kids had to sleep on the floor, I am like because they peed on the mattress. She gets indignant with me like, “how dare you make my kids sleep on the floor.” I asked her why she didn’t tell me that they were still peeing in the bed; she had no answer for me. I am so fed up with my niece and her kids. Today is July 7th and on Thursday they will have been here for entire month—a month that has been for the most part nothing but turmoil and chaos to the tenth power. I would have never allowed her to drop off her kids had I known that the oldest one was as bad as she is. She has made come close to wanting to knock her out, seriously.
This is beyond a child finding themselves and exerting their independence. This child believes everyone is to do for her, to get her whatever it is she wants, and she does not have to work hard for anything, ever. She has been disrespecting me from the moment she has been here and I cannot stand it anymore. The worst part is I have called her father and told him what has been going on. He said he would call back or to have his mother call back and neither one of them have called me back. I called the father back and he still never called me back, which leads to believe that he has stopped caring about what is going with his daughter …