Who’s the Baby Daddy?

All to often, I hear the phrase…

I don’t know how the baby daddy is.

First, the phrase baby daddy irritates the skittles out of me. But, the biggest thing I find myself guilty of is quickly jumping to the name calling stage.

Whore.

Slut.

Tramp.

Skank.

The list goes on and on. Immediately my brain races towards, “How the eff could you NOT know who the baby’s dad is?

It wasn’t until tonight, while talking it through with Mr, that I realized what I was doing. See–I don’t really pay much attention to the way my brain works at times but, I have always had a fascination with how the brain works and why we think, do, and act the way we do. So–here is my thoughts on the matter (at least for me)…

The shows we watch. My mom (smart lady!) mentioned something before, that I only kind of paid attention to before. She made a comment about my aunt and great aunt watching a sassy show and how it had effected–affected, ugh! impacted the way my aunt and great aunt talked to each other. It created more sass in their conversations and in the things they said towards each other.

Now, creating sass impacts the way they are doing things. But, what I have realized tonight is that because Mr and I have watched Jerry Springer, Maury, and Steve Wilko Show so much, that it’s beginning to impact the way I think. Immediately, instead of first going down one path, I now go down the scandalous path.

It wasn’t until I was talking to Mr when he made a comment, like I had been thinking, and I immediately went to the defense of this person. I began making comments along the lines of–“Maybe they got out of a relationship and before they knew it, they had met someone else and they were in a new relationship too soon to tell who the father was.” 

See, it’s one thing for me to think such things but, for someone to say such things. It makes you really think. We think all kinds of things–for example… I was reading a blog from one of the best writers I have seen lately. He begins talking about how we, as women, will hold love or respect hostage towards our husbands.

I am guilty of that at times. Mostly, I tend to hold part of me back, in a way. I used to threaten my hubby with the “d” word. I wouldn’t mean to but, it would slip out. I don’t say it any more. But, I have thought about walking out the door. Every time I do, I realize that –well, as Kelly Clarkson says,

‘Cause we belong together now, yeah
Forever united here somehow, yeah
You got a piece of me
And honestly
My life (my life) would suck (would suck) without you

I don’t want anyone else to have my life. I don’t want anyone else to have the opportunity to be married to Mr. I don’t want anyone to get to have a chance with him–he is an amazing man. The love of my life and as our 3rd year anniversary comes up tomorrow, I don’t want anyone else to get a moment with him.

Although, I feel like the shows we–well, used to watch, impact how I was thinking, I am glad I am not watching them any more. I haven’t said the “d” word. I haven’t gotten close to leaving, like I have before. I am realizing more and more, I am in this until the end. I am going to fight tooth and nail. He doesn’t get to have another “wife”.

There will be no, “who’s the baby daddy?” in this family.

 

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