To All Baby's Mamas...

This morning...as I made pretty for work...I plopped in Fantasia's debut CD and quickly skipped ahead to my favorite song...Baby Mama. Now...I believe Fantasia wrote this song herself, and I'm sure you are all surprised to find out that the song was not nominated for  Grammy. But the sentiment behind the song should be.

Now, I remember watching Fantasia during her quest to become the new American Idol. I voted for her...lots. I remember one episode where it was either a guest judge or someone from the audience or some other yahooo that told her that because she was a teen mom she didn't deserve to be an American Idol. I just about reached into the TV and destroyed the soul of the person speaking. Since when did the age at which one has a child determine anything about that persons character except that she had a child early in life. For all you know, she wanted to get a head start on headstart. So shut it.

I am the proud product of a single mother. My Mom was married off and on for the first ten years or so of my life...but she raised my brother and me pretty much on her own. She worked two jobs almost all the time, and she was still at home at night in time to cook us dinner. As I've gotten older that part has really started to trip me out a little. I don't know how the hell she managed to work eight hours at Target...come home...cook up some fried chicken, mashed potatos, green beans, and a pitcher of kool aid and then still make it over to the deli at the grocery story to work another three or four hours. That's voodoo right there is what that is. My Mom used to make miracles out of egg noodles and a little garlic salt...and although we never had a Christmas tree bursting with presents...the few presents we received were always the ones that we wanted the most. I can't tell you how many times my Mom opened up her retirement savings account just so my brother and I could have a few gifts come Christmas morning. That piddly 401K is supposed to be what carries Mom through her later years...and I know for probably the first 10 years that she had the account she never made it a full year without taking out the entire balance. 

My Mom will never be confused with a saint. Her language is much too colorful. She's too damn country. Half the time she thinks she's black. And Saints are boring. Really. But my Mom has a heart as big as Lake Superior and is so wicked the Devil once hired her as a consultant. Not kidding. Couldn't get the smell of brimestone of out of the house for days. Sometimes she still chases me around her house with the pitchfork El Diablo gave her. She thinks that shit is funny. But she's my Mom and ain't nobody better say nothin' about her. Cuz I'll cut 'em for sure.

I know some amazing single parents in the world. Gigi, Larry, Theresa, Michelle, Krista, and more...that are doing their thing...living their lives...and raising their children with love and affection. Fantasia says that she thinks there should be a national holiday to celebrate single mothers...and I agree. Babys Mamas and Babys Daddys that are doing right by their children, making sacrifices so that their children will grow up with all the tools they need to live well, and doing what needs to be done to make ends meet...deserve to be honored...they are the true soldiers and veterans...entering the economic jungle everyday and doing it out of love...love for those babies...who don't care whether they have one mama or two mamas only that their mamas love 'em. Like I love my Mama.

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[-Jeremy Tequila]

What would the ceremony be like and what order would we get married in?