Mo’ Baby Mamas, Mo’ Drama
Recently one of my good friends told me that she hopes her daughter grows up and dates a professional athlete. Her reasoning was that he can take her around the world and expose her to things she hasn’t seen before — I guess she meant like STDs.
Needless to say, I was blown by the sincerity and rationalization behind my girl’s remarks. Immediately, I went into my strong woman tirade about being able to see the world on your own. My next line of attack? There are plenty of good, well-to-do men of all colors who can finance our beautiful — I should mention unborn— baby girl’s world tour. Lastly, I went to the “what will happen to her when he’s done?” mode. You know, it’s all nice to be the girlfriend or even wife, until he starts “acting up.” Now he’s cheating and she doesn’t want to downsize her Mercedes so she’s “forced” to stay until he kicks her out.
If my assumptions sound bleak, it’s because they are. And, of course, the news of two of our more respectable entertainers, Dwyane Wade and Ludacris, announcing they had babies with side chicks while on “breaks” from their good girls only fans the flames, fuels the fire. Well, it just pisses me off. Honestly, as much as men cry about being taken advantage of financially by women, part of me can’t help but giggle at situations like this. We know all men love hoes. But I am shocked to find that apparently they can’t help but go raw in them.
I get it. Groupies and hangers-on are fun. They can do tricks. And they aren’t all illiterate. It’s just…well, when you have a baby with someone that you KNOW you’ll never want to reside in the same house with, trouble tends to ensue — regardless of how much money you have. The child is the one who loses out most because they can never be with both parents. And I’m not talking in the Leave it Beaver ideal, I’m just talking normative familial interaction.
Oh yeah, and at some point, mo’ baby mamas means mo’ drama for the guys as well. You have another person whose feelings and finances you have to manage…forever.
When I hear young, and some times not so young, females talking about the Basketball Wives —and wifey— life I cringe. I don’t think all of these guys are bad — or incapable of commitment. I do think getting VIP service and flying first-class isn’t worth the drama. Sadly, the more I talk to women, and watch reality television, such as Basketball Wives, Love and Hip Hop and Real Housewives of Atlanta, I begin to wonder whether I am the one who got it wrong.
What was unacceptable has become normal. My stance: We need more shame in the game.