YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME? Here are the rules for dating, in case you forgot.

YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME? Here are the rules for dating, in case you forgot.

YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME? Here are the rules for dating, in case you forgot.

  1. ASK for my number, don’t FB or hit me up on social media
  2. CALL ME within 2 days of asking for my number, do not text me, this shows your level of interest either way
  3. Ask me out on a date for a WEEKEND NIGHT on a Friday or Saturday, not some opening during the week that you want to fill in, or lunch or coffee.  Put some commitment into showing me you’re interested, ’cause I’m taking notes
  4. DON’T ask me to hang, I don’t have balls
  5. A date consists of dinner and a show, not a cheapskate coffee
  6. Give me a choice of two different evenings and give me the choice of what show I want to see, whether it be a chick-flick or drama.
  7. Give me the choice to either have you pick me up or for me to meet you
  8. Dress nice, wear light cologne, clean your nails, shave, shine your shoes and wash your car
  9. Compliment me immediately
  10. Open the door throughout the night
  11. Motion for me to walk ahead when necessary, instead of you walking 6 steps ahead of me, or how about this WALK BESIDE ME
  12. Pull my chair out at the restaurant
  13. Let me order first, ask how my meal is
  14. If my meal is missing something, flag the waitress down
  15. Ask me questions about me, don’t talk about your ex or tell me how much money you have or how much you workout….be real… I want to hear about your friends, your passion, your hometown and what makes you laugh.
  16. Pay for the entire dinner yourself, don’t even think about asking me to pay the tip
  17. Ask if I still want to see the show, put my coat on, let me walk ahead of you
  18. At the show make sure I’m comfortable and ask if I want a drink
  19. At the end of the date, you should have a feel for how the evening has played out.  If it was a hit, then ask for a second date, secure it, go for it.
  20. At the end of the night, lean in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek if I seem receptive
  21. Don’t try asking me to come over for a drink or hang to watch Netflix, I’m not a booty call
  22. Don’t try to get lucky, get laid or get off on some misleading fantasy that porn has put into your head
  23. Call me within 2 days to say you had a nice time and ask for a second date, if you’re interested in pursuing me, because the timeframe of my window being open is small before I move on.
  24. REPEAT all of the above for the second date
  25.  I want to  know if you’re serious about getting to know me, I’m watching and looking to see if you’re a suitable partner.

These are basics in dating that we have lost in the last decade or more.  I miss the traditional dating and I’m holding out for a good guy, a true guy that knows how to treat and court a woman.   If you do it right,  you might just get a piece of me.  Word.

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Feeding Babies

Feeding Babies

Wbreast feedinghen a mother is told ” Your milk is not good enough.”  Capitalism is born. For the USA it started in 1950.  Milk companies taught mothers to be ashamed of their bodies and to doubt the integrity of nourishing their babies with their own breast milk.

I was born in 1953.  My mother feed me with Carnation milk and Karo Syrup.  Quite nourishing- growing babies on milkshakes- no vitamins-no antibodies- nothing except sugar and milk.

In 1978 I had my first child. My mother marching up my front porch steps had a very big box in her hands.  It was a dozen glass baby bottles.

Looking at her struggle with the container I smiled and said, ” Mom, I don’t need these.”

She didn’t understand.  We didn’t talk about female issues:  menstrual periods, sex or having babies.  That topic was more like underground conversations- polite people didn’t utter such words.  Pregnancy came and babies were born- that simple. Her face wrinkled into a frown and then she looked up at me and said, ” Is the baby ok?” I assisted her to sit the box on the porch floor and opened the front door.  We settled at the kitchen table.  The kitchen table was the hearth of conversations and relationships. It was annointed with glasses of sweet tea with sour lemons.

My due date was only a couple of months away.  It was her intention to supply me with glass bottles and cloth diapers.  She sat in the chair and settled into a cigarette.

” No bottles?”  How are you going to feed a baby?  Are you crazy?”

” I’m going to breast feed, mother?”

” How?” she asked.

” I guess I can do it. Mothers have fed their babies for thousands of years.”

” It’s just risky, she said.  You have to depend on your own milk and most women can’t do it.”  She puffed and took a big hit off her Viceroy cigarette.  The kitchen filled with smoke and confusion.

I noticed her hands.  Brown and callused. Her hair was thinning.  Her wrinkles not ready to display her face of worries quite yet.  She was only forty nine.  Her menopause had been quiet and tormenting.  She never said a word.  I was too wrapped up in my own hormones to notice.

” When I had you women were told to be ashamed, to cover their breasts that only poor women fed their babies ‘ that way.’ ”

” Well, I think I can ask my grandmothers.  They fed you and dad.  It was only your generation that started having this ” no-breast-baby-generation.”

Years passed.  I had two babies.  I breast fed them both.  I could have done better but I had to go to work and still it was unacceptable to feed babies after the age of  one.

My daughter has fed her daughter by breast feeding. Both are happy, healthy and bonded.

The world didn’t pollute them.  Capitalism was killed in that connection.  Mothers learn that they are capable of feeding their babies without a milk company. Women are powerful. We cannot lose our power and self appreciation.