Uh Oh! My mom read my blog.

What she doesn’t know and won’t til she reads this is that I wanted her to read it. That’s why I left the window open. So Pbsssst (sticking tongue out). It was actually a favor to her because I know she wants to know what’s going on in my life (my mom is real nosey). But she doesn’t want to ask me my buisness cause I’m an adult, or at least I’m as old as one. What’s really funny is that Chevonne’s last post inspired a comment, about my mom, from me that was about to turn into a blog. So I just came straight here instead. I was in the process of writing when my mom called me to chastize me for using people’s last names. I told her the same thing I’ma tell ya’ll. This is my Blog. Anyone who wants to can start an anti-Gian SMITH blog and use as many pseudonyms as they want to talk about how stupid I am. I promise I will blog roll you and comment when needed. As for this cyberspace, I only omit names when I feel the privacy is warranted. i.e. in my post about why women are scandalous, in my Michele MOORE story I was very careful not to mention the name of my friend who might be embarassed by having taken her out and the results from it. However Michele MOORE receives no grace from me for being scandalous. Justice will be served here at the “End all be all.” Anyway I’m getting off task.

December 27, 1996
I was 18 years old at the time. I had just finished my first semester of College. I was still living at home with my family. On this particular evening I was sitting in my room with my cousin Adele WILLIAMS. We don’t have the same relationship I have with my sister but she’s close like a sister. I don’t know what we might have been talking about but in walks my dad with a stern look on his face.

Dad: I thought you said you were going to buy a new basketball rim for Christmas.

pause Me and my friends had broken the old rim in my backyard from dunking on it too much. Yeah I’m short but back in my day I had hops. I had told him that I would replace the rim as a Christmas present. But then while doing my Christmas shopping I found a good joint gift for him and my mom. My mom is easy to shop for because she doesn’t have that varying of interest and is easy to please. But I get bored buying her a book or some bath and Body works crap every year And my dad is easy to shop for because he doesn’t want anything. But I would only get nothing if I was flat broke so I decided to get them a cd player for their room. I still intended on replacing the rim but I felt like since I broke it that wasn’t really a Christmas present. resume

G: Yeah, but I decided I wanted to get ya’ll something else.
D: (authoritatively) well you’re going to replace that rim.

I don’t know where this chip on my shoulder comes from. Maybe it’s Napoleon complex or maybe it’s cause my parents are so stubborn, but I cannot stand being talked down to. Of course I had been being disciplined by them my whole life but it had been a while since I had gotten a nice “You’re still a child” tone. And in front of my cousin no less. So I went politely downstairs to address this issue. I met him in the kitchen. I can’t remember how I might have started the conversation but I know I wasn’t even finished with my first sentence when my mother, who wasn’t even privy to the initial confrontation, cut me off. Now in my old age I realize why it is so important for parents to unify when it comes to disciplining their children. It used to quite bother me when my mother would stick up for my dad when I felt he was wrong. I see now that conflicting views can create doubt in children’s mind. The kind of doubt and questioning that leads to insubordination. A family should be like the millitary. Your commanding officers do not express grievances in front of you because they need their soldiers to not have any moment of pause when carrying out an order. But at this point I was a not so rebellious teen but still dealing with angst, conformity issues, my first real relationship, and trying to adjust to college life. So I didn’t want to hear any of that captain of the ship BS. I know I’ve said nothing but nice things about my mom so far on my blog but she’s a fireball. She’s not mean but she can get nasty, and her temper turns quick. So she interrupted my diatribe to my dad with a “You need to shutup.” Coming down the stairs was like the point of no return for me. This was the instant I would demand my liberty as an adult and so I wasn’t about to back down to either one of them. I told my mom something like “I have something to say, so I’m going to say it.” my mom replied “You need to shut up, or get the fuck out of my house.” So I’m pissed. They aren’t going to listen to me? Fine. I turn to go upstairs so I can prepare to leave and I say. “Alright, I guess I need to get the fuck out of this house.” Now I had never cursed in front of my mom, and still don’t, much less to her. But I was heated. I didn’t say it to her face and wouldn’t have even turned around to see her reaction, excpet for the footsteps I heard charging behind me. I turned around and was swiftly greeted by an open hand fist squa on my nose. For all the fights I’ve been in in m life time I promised you no man has ever landed a face shot. So when I got tagged I couldn’t do anything but sit there in a state of shock. My dad had to come out to restrain her but there was no restraining me. I started screaming at the top of my lungs, “I’m bout to get the FUCK out this house.” And I called my friend Brenton and that’s what I did. For brevity’s sake I will spare you the details of the time I spent staying with Brenton except to say that you should all do yourself a favor and never room with an only child after he’s reached 18. Anyway, a couple of days later it was New Years eve. I went by my girlfriend at the time tahnika HAGANS. I had arranged for my friends to come get me at midnight because her mom was very strict and didn’t want me there all night. Now me and my family have had a lot of traditions. Over the years some of them have fallen by the wayside. But my favorite that we still have is that we spend the New Year together and we toast with Champagne. Even now that I’m old and there’s always something going on for New Years I am always home when the clock strikes twelve even if it means leaving my party and going back. This however was to be the first New Years spent without my family. I had been away for four days now and hadn’t contacted anyone. But I wanted to talk to my sister since she wasn’t a part of this. I called her and we talked for two minutes or so. I was still very angry with my parents but like I’ve said I can’t hold grudges so I told her to wish them Happy New Years for me. When I said that, after hanging up the phone, I realized how much I missed them. I sat silently next to Tahnika while we watched some music videos. My friends insisted that no one could come and get me. At the time only two of us were driving and that was back before we realized how small New Orleans is and it was a big deal to leave uptown to come to the east. I was stranded by my friends, lonely, miserable and homeless. I had never been so down. I mean I started to cry. I don’t mean sobbing, I mean all out, face ugly, soaked cheeks bawling. That was the worst momment of my life, and the worst day up to that point. I ended up moving out of Brenton’s parent’s house and into a hotel astragning myself from friends and family who felt had all let me down. I had put a deposit down on an apartment which I was going to move into with Tahnika, even though God knows I did not want to share living space with that girl. It wasn’t until my Friend Brandon came seeking me out and told me that my parents had requested to see me. Basically my mom told me that she didn’t want me struggling to survive and trying to get through college like she did. That the whole point of her working so hard was to make a better situation for my sister and I and that she wanted me to come back. Well, she had me at hello. So after that we had six years of symbiotic co-existence. And now we have a good, adult relationship except for the fact that they probably take care of me more now than then.

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27 responses to “Uh Oh! My mom read my blog.

  1. LMAO…I’m sorry but I cannot get the image of you walking away all high and mighty and then turning only to get socked in the nose out my mind. I bet you were pissed, but that is a mother for you..Good story. You make me want to post about my parental problems. Shit, me and my father didn’t talk for an entire year and we lived under the same roof. But I just got done with a long ass post and unlike you, I don’t have bloggin stamina out the ears. *wink*Nice pics too…

  2. Got a brutha over here tearing up and shit. That story was deep nigga. What you went thru had to be a hard blow (no pun intended), to your being. Big ups (do people still say that?) to you for being able to get over that. You got me wanting to blog about my relationship with my parents too. I’ve had some heated arguments with mom too. Some shit I never thought would come out of my mouth. But we always get past it. And I could not imagine if I let my mom read my blog. There are just too many things in there she would not be ready to hear. LOL But that is excellent that you do, for real.

  3. *Awww* I didn’t finish reading the post…but I’m gonna come back later and finish then comment. WOW! I can’t believe you “actually” let your mom read your blog…I’m not that brave *smile*…

  4. That was definitely an experience to go through. WOW. I am sure you learned alot from it though…You only get stronger! *big hugs*

  5. mamma to’ that ass up LOL. funny thing is, i’m picturing my son 13 years from now raising up to get beat down… i don’t take that talking back mess very well.that experience was all a part of growing up. good story.

  6. @Aries I can’t get that face she made right before she hit me out of my mind. It’s the kind of thing that makes me smile now that it’s all over. To see this 5’0 woman running at you like you just stole her bike.@Brutha yeah I didn’t necesairily want her to read the whole thing. I figured my last sexcapade post was far enough in the trenches that she wouldn’t make it there. I know my mom worries about me a lot and she thinks I’ll be bothered if she just comes right out and starts asking me stuff so it’s cool.@Fran You better had come back. but nah it was definitely worth it. I mean all in all it only lasted maybe two weeks. It wasn’t like I was hooking for money or anything so the relationship that stemmed from it and being able to feel like my parents consider me an adult was definitely worth it.@Mia believe me that time will come too. I think that’s just part of being a teen ager, and being a parent with a teen ager. Teen agers think they know every damn thing and sometimes they need to get put in their place but at the same time they definitely know more than their parents think they can understand and parents have to be able to ease up on the reigns a little bit. The princess (My sister) had an easy transition after our dealings. Partially because she’s so mature for her age but also because they were ready early for the impending stance of adulthood.

  7. That’s a mother’s love right there…she taps that face for your “disrespect” but calls for you to come home because she doesn’t want her baby out on the streets fending for himself.I understand now what you’re saying about things being so much better with your folks after the fight…

  8. I agree about letting parents seeing my blog. Actually, I don’t mind my mom, but C-Breezt let her dad (whom I admire immensely) in to read something, and I almost died. Glad things worked with your parents.

  9. GIAN FRANCISCO SMITH, my only son, and favorite son. You are much smarter than you want us to believe. I think the lessons we have tried to teach you will bear fruit sooner than you think. It does not bother me that you refuse to heed my advice, as long as you listen to it and remember it for the future. The time will come when you will sing “My Momma Told Me…”

  10. Hey man, I got sucked into reading your blogs. And that doesn’t happen very often.School Daze, Spike Lee’s second best film. I never much liked musicals, but I have to say I loved that musical scene in the movie… “you’re just a wanna’ be… wanna’ be better than me…” and a great three second shot of AJ Johnson sticking her head out the window with that fucked-up hair. That sistah’ is still fine, too bad she’s reduced to doing infomercials now. I’ve never seen anybody play a hood-rat better (Baby Boy, House Party) straight ot’ the ghetto. Something about the way those ghetto girls move, she’s just got it down. She must have some ghetto in her.That movie is the closest I’ve ever been to that fraternity sorority crap, thankfully. Just another contrived class system in my mind, but that movie was a real eye opener to me when I first saw it.But homey (Shit I wish I lived in New Orleans), Fiona Apple and Mariah Carey, why you be sellin’ out. You really like that Apple bitch? Well I guess De la soul balances it out so I’ll let you off the hook.I just started this blogging crap, and I was wondering if there were any Black people/African-Americans out there doing it. And low and behold I found one who can actually write. But I have to say the continuing recitations of all your sexual conquests smacks of bravado and is more than a little egocentric. Shit! why did I think of it. Check out my blog promoting the reinstatement of slavery.http://blahblahblahbenjamin.blogspot.com/2005/02/bring-back-slavery-asa-hutchinson.html

  11. I doubt I would ever cuss in front of my mom, but if she hit me like that even as a teenager my feelings would be all kinds of hurt. It’s good everything worked out. I’m not sure its possible for parents who devote so much time to supporting us as children to actively let us fail when we’re not.

  12. Good story man. I remember trying to be bad one time to my mom, back talking to her and calling her by her first name…definitely a no-no. And the moment I finished the final syllable, in came this round house right that almost connected. I could feel the wind coming just before the blow landed! Whew! that was close and I never spoke back to her like that again. Dawg, I was 23 at the time! Holla.

  13. I told you I’d check it out. You should post your poems. If only i can get you to pay that damn cell phone bill! Oh, & u should send Dorcas your blogpage so she can read too. Of course, many of these stories Ive heard b/4…however, you should put the ‘nice ones’in there too! Although, hearing about your momma’ crackin’you head was rockin! Go aunty Roz!Miss you!! J-Mo

  14. A colored mother will certainly smack her child down when the child seems to have lost their senses. My last beating was at 16 and it was a true beat down. I do think boys go through the fight and move out for a couple weeks syndrome.And all over a basketball rim. Your parents sound entertaining.

  15. WOW! Sounds like your mom really put you in check. But I know that it was all done in love. And seeing your mom’s comment just made me see how blessed you are. I really envy not having that relationship with my mom.God Bless

  16. man….if i did that to my mama……..i would be still in a wheel chair…and as many times when i wanted to say something back, i havent, i may have been flipped mouth, and she sure slapped me in the face…plus my mama is 6’3, see so i dont mess with her…and i wouldnt let my mama read my blog, tho i’ve never said anything bad about her…and is that your mon a few comments above that posted? lol, see i would be scared if my mama read mine…

  17. Ooooh, I genuinely feel your pain! I had a breakout moment like that with my moms. I was a little younger than you though (I was sixteen). Anyway, it was Thanksgiving and my moms was going on and on about how noone was helping her get the food ready or something like that, so I told her that she needed to chill. Next thing I know, I’m running towards the door trying to dodge all of these mysterious hands that are tagging my ass.

  18. …finally! I got a chance to finish. I loved your story. It reminded me of a couple of arguments I had with my mother in the past. Ya know what G…sometimes, I find that the screaming, yelling, and arguments (among other predicaments) b/t the one’s you love…to be a blessing in disguise sorta speak. Reason being…externally “action wise”, they may seem like they harm both parties, but in reality all they do is bring us closer together or replenish our relationships internally. :)Good post. I totally identified with this. Man, I identify with a lot of stuff you write. Your experiences tend to be very uplifting to me. Alright, well let me stop my blabbing here b/f I end up writing a whoooole essay in your comments section, like usual…I have a tendency to do that on people’s blogs…lol. πŸ™‚

  19. …finally! I got a chance to finish. I loved your story. It reminded me of a couple of arguments I had with my mother in the past. Ya know what G…sometimes, I find that the screaming, yelling, and arguments (among other predicaments) b/t the one’s you love…to be a blessing in disguise sorta speak. Reason being…externally “action wise”, they may seem like they harm both parties, but in reality all they do is bring us closer together or replenish our relationships internally. :)Good post. I totally identified with this. Man, I identify with a lot of stuff you write. Your experiences tend to be very uplifting to me. Alright, well let me stop my blabbing here b/f I end up writing a whoooole essay in your comments section, like usual…I have a tendency to do that on people’s blogs…lol. πŸ™‚

  20. I have never been so entertained by someone’s blog before. And I am so sorry that it is at the expense of getting socked in the nose. The reason that I found your post so intriguing is that something of the similar happened to me when I was about 19 and thought I knew everything, and I went to stay with my cousin, and boy was living rough over there. I had a few options of going to stay with my dad or going back to my grandmother’s (who had took the key away from me) by letting my pride go. And I thought to myself, if I ever want to drink water again, I might want to go to my dad’s or my grandma’s…but pops wanted me to be in at 11pm every night and I had to babysit my nephew in order to live with him.That was too much for me…I didn’t know what coming in at 11pm curfew was…and at 19???? Are you crazy????So I ended up humbling myself and going back to granny’s.

  21. Yep, this IS the end all, be all.I never had a fight with my Mama. I can’t fight. She knows that. So I tell her that fighting me would be like fighting a crippled kid cuz all I would do is cry.But she STILL threatens to whoop my azz on a regular basis. My Mama is from the days where ppl handed out ass whoopings like it was free water. Shes so ghetto and I can’t believe I never picked up that IMA BEAT YO AZZ part of her.She’ll come at me nose to nose with her finger poking my temple and screaming at me calling me a bitch. (Yeah, ghetto, I know) And I’ll take a step back, “Really MOTHER, now you know we can talk rationally about this…” This makes her SOOO mad!ROFL!I do it everytime she acts up.Great story G!

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