It’s potty time! Caitlynn is ready to ditch her diapers and get her potty on. In fact, I think she has started to train herself! She lets everyone know when she has to tinkle and asks to use the potty–a potty we didn’t have at our house until this weekend. She’s ready. She isn’t afraid of falling into the toilet. And she doesn’t jump when she hears the loud flushing sound. I think she’s more ready than mommy! I don’t mind changing diapers, and I don’t look forward to her wearing little girl undies. I want her to be my baby for a little while longer. But, I don’t want her to get teased when she goes to kindergarten still sporting a sag.
Here’s how we picked a potty.
In college, I dated a man named, well, let’s just call him Marlon. Marlon was attractive, articulate and intelligent—and he possessed a long list of long-term potential qualities. Looking back, he was husband material. But I came to college to leave with a degree not a man.
Our relationship was very cool and casual. We hung in the same circles, so I guess it as also convenient. I must admit, I didn’t put a lot of effort into finding a man or keeping one. They typically found me. Not that I was conceited. Maybe I was over-confident. Whatever the case, dating wasn’t difficult. Society wasn’t shoving statistics down my throat about the lack of good Black men. Future doctors, lawyers, teachers, engineers and millionaires—all with beautiful brown skin—were living under the same roof in my dorm.
(Photo Courtesy: My Wedding)
Unlike many girls growing up, I didn’t think about getting married and having children. The thought didn’t cross my mind until long after college graduation. Heck, it was almost a decade later. Part of me focused on collage and career. I wanted to report the news and travel the world. Another part of me thought I would be disobeying God by having premarital sex. It’s easier to abstain if there’s no one to, well, fornicate with.
Although I wasn’t always riding the celibacy bandwagon, I did pursue a path to completion and contentment. As someone’s future wife, I want to come to the altar comfortable in my own skin, comfortable with my relationship with God and comfortable being vulnerable enough to let someone else lead me. Before I say I do, there are lots of things I must do. I’ve checked off almost everything on this list, but I continue to add items on a regular basis.
Recently, I went on a father-daughter date with one of the funniest, handsomest and greatest men of all times–my dad Richard Elliot Hopson. I received two tickets from the Pittsburgh Culture Trust to the Tony Award®-winning Broadway play The Lion King and asked him if he was free on Friday. We dropped my mother off with a friend and headed to the Benedum Center, located in Pittsburgh’s growing theater district. Ever since I could remember, my father and I got along almost perfectly. I think it’s in part due to the fact that I am my mother’s twin, even though she hates to admit it. So, our personalities mesh together like peanut butter and jelly–the ingredients to one of my favorite songs my parents sang to me as a child. This night, I learned a lot about love. My dad didn’t sing Barry White or recite a poem. He just, well, acted like my dad. Although he previously taught me some of the life lessons, our time together reinforced the words of wisdom he shared over the years. Here are the four things I learned.
Should a man date a woman with children if he doesn’t want to marry a woman with children? Over the weekend, my friend–let’s call him Jackson–sent me a text message to ask me what I was doing. I had turned down a dinner date earlier in the afternoon and wasn’t doing much of anything. Since I’m not into to texting an entire conversation, I picked up the telephone. Jackson couldn’t understand why I didn’t go out when I didn’t have my daughter. I explained that I was relaxing, enjoying my time watching a television show that didn’t star Dora or Doc McStuffins. Jackson mentioned possibly hanging out with a woman who was his perfect marriage match, but who would never be his future fiancée. The deal breaker? She was a mom. (more…)