MOTHERS AIN’T WHAT THEY USE TO BE

Back in the day mothers were though of as the affectionate, kind, giving, loving, tenderhearted, longsuffering, miracle working angels of mercy; good-mother who bull-doggedly holds the family together through life’s unexpected left turns. She fixed breakfast, held a job, cooked dinner, checked homework, tucked kids into beds and read to them. She prayed for her family and stuck it out with an imperfect working husband in circumstances not always of her choosing or to her liking. Her house was in order and children understood her unspoken warning signals when spanking was not a crime. Back talk was unthinkable and by no means tolerated; to disrespect an elder invoked both the wrath of God and a mouth-washing with a bar of soap.

Back then, mothers planted wisdom seeds while braiding their daughters hair and drove home the point that “a man only wants one thing,” because she knew that abstinence, common sense and luck were all that stood between a girl and her virginity.

Who braids our daughter’s hair now?

What messages do these braiders and weavers plant in the minds of our girls?

Whose hair is it anyway and what sprit lives in those over-the-counter follicles?

What and who are these impressionable minds to believe?

Single mothers use to be an anomaly. A woman left widowed with children was heartbreaking; divorce was undesirable and regrettable. An out-of-wedlock pregnancy was made somewhat palatable when the soon-to-be parents married. Marriage was expected once the girl’s father presented the young man with the ultimatum: “You will accept your responsibilities.” Today, however, who gives a second thought to the fact that a child may never see or know his or her father.

Where marriage was not an option, either the baby was accepted, or both mother and child were shut out. Single motherhood was not a career choice. Self-induced abortions which took many a woman’s life, paved the way for the abortion on demand laws that create unintended consequence, which is another discussion. But It wasn’t so long ago that women desiring children followed conventional wisdom and waited until marriage because “a good man doesn’t want an easy woman for his wife” and because “a man ain’t gonna’ buy the cow when he can get the milk for free.”

After the honeymoon, mothers’ educated daughters in the find art of keeping her man;”you had better feed him at home.” Once upon a time “mamma could burn” in the kitchen. Who among us does not enjoy a well thought out nourishing and tasty home cooked meal? Today, the only kitchen with which some mothers are familiar is decorated with a golden arch.

Somewhere in time old-fashioned mother wit was cast aside for the galactic lie that men are superfluous to childbearing and to child rearing. Some women caught-up in the marvel of modern medical experimentation chose artificial insemination with anonymous sperm donated by some men with the right color eyes chosen from a list of applicants, legally relieved of all parental obligations and free to father as many nameless children for as long as he banked his sperm. Other women engage in “rent-a-womb’ contracts thus freeing themselves of the burden of carrying a child to term. The less offending term, surrogate pregnancy; once unimaginable, helped contributed to the development of specialized law where custody lawyers rake in big bucks negotiating the “whose baby is this” mess where the child becomes rope in the tug-of-war custody contest.

Babies require mature self-respecting parents willing to devote at lease 20 selfless years, and considerable economic resources to nurture, discipline, and groom with an expectation of turning out a productive contributing member to society.

Why are girls today, many babies themselves, so focused on “havin’ his baby”? What message renders girls unwilling to complete education, peruse career opportunities, or use easily assessable birth control? Has casual sex with a fine-looking one-night Joe become the subliminal motive for creating a fantasy designer baby? What is so great about being called “the bitch dats ma’ baby’s mama’? And what, for heaven’s sake, is all this second baby mama drama about? Could all this be the sound of one crying in the wilderness for the father? What message will these mothers pass to their daughters and to their sons?

Mothers, you can predict the future; you’re been there.

              - By Grandmother aka, Sista’ Mean

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