Saturday, December 31, 2011

Happy New Year: Resolutions


And now, for a look forward at 2012.

I want to read more. 
I used to read all the time, a book a week at least, usually several books at once. I started reading some in 2011, but this year I want to soak up the printed word like I used to.

I want to travel.
I want to cross some places off my travel list.
I want to take my kids to see snow, and to the beach.
I want to swim in the ocean again.
I want to find adventures with the people I love.

I want to read to my kids more, and watch TV/be on the computer less.

I want to keep teaching Lainie to cook. 
She loves it, and I love being able to teach her something useful, something that I'm good at.

I want to do something I've never done.
Like snowboarding or snorkeling or eating weird foods.

I want to laugh more than I cry.

I want to learn how to better pick my battles.

I want to write something every day. Even if it's one line, or one paragraph or one word. Something. Every day.

I want to take more pictures, especially of the kids.

I want to kiss and love and just enjoy my precious time with Bill more freely.
Relax. Stop sweating the small stuff and just be happy.

I want to find adventure, live my life, and enjoy every possible second of whatever precious time I have on this Earth.

I want to be more honest, more accountable and more selfless.

I want to learn how to make Cajun food.

I want stop smoking.

I want to paint my apartment.

I want to make the most and the best of it, whatever it ends up being. I want to find something to laugh about in every situation.

I want to take better care of the people I love.

I want to be happy.

What do you want this year?

Thursday, December 29, 2011

The Friday Diary pt. 2

Welcome to the LAST Friday in 2011!!!
I for one could not be more ready for the new year.
Plus, I get to spend New Years with my love and his two kids, plus my two kids, and I'm pretty much stoked about it.
Four kids, two adults, way too much food, some games, maybe a movie, and a midnight kiss from Jackson, Lainie, and Bill if I'm lucky.
That's what's up.

So, pour some champagne, say goodbye to 2011, and see what we've been up to 'round here.

I've been listening to this:
Ill Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday on Grooveshark
I love Billie Holiday, and something about her voice just makes me all kinds of happy-emotional. I want to slow dance to this song, I want to cuddle by a fire to this song, I want to listen to it at Christmastime, and I if I evah evah evah walk down the isle, I want it to be to this song.
Just beautiful.

I've been eating these:
We also made a raspberry cheescake for Santa, but he umm....ate it all before  a picture could be taken of it. 

For Christmas, I got this:
It's a beautiful wooden memory box, with a heavy metal heart shaped lock on it, to which go two skeleton keys, which are probably one of my favorite things in the world. 
Bill put this all together from different pieces he knew I'd like, because I'm always saving little things from our relationship like ticket stubs, hotel keys, pictures, etc., in shoe boxes.
But now I have this gorgeous box, and an amazing man who was kind enough to give it to me.

We've been cooking with my other Christmas present, from my dad:
I have jumped on the cast iron bandwagon, y'all and it is amazing.
I seriously love this thing, and have literally been coming up with reasons to use it.
"Hey kids, who wants MORE BACON?!"
Everyone wants more bacon. Everyone.

And, since I've had this ENTIRE week off from work, I've been doing A LOT of this:
That book was another gift from Bill this year, one of my favorite books ever. And that handsome bear you see there is Orso. My main squeezy when Bill isn't available. Oh and that ice cream? 

Last but not least, I leave you with a little something to watch:

Don't drink anything while you watch that. 
Shit's funny.

Happy New Year everyone.

Oh, and Dear 2011: Please go fuck yourself now.
You were kind of a dick.

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Wednesday, December 28, 2011

2011: A Look Back


2011 was a year of change. 
A year of surprises, disappointments, battles, wars, wins and losses.

In January I rang in the new year with my then-roommate, Dave. And we drank cheap strawberry wine and stood outside in the freezing midnight air to watch fireworks my neighbors were setting off. Sometimes it pays to live in the ghetto.

In February, I celebrated Valentines Day alone, and and wondered if Bill and I would ever find a resolution to our in-between love affair.

In March I attended the births of 3 baby girls, and the 14th marked the second year I'd known Bill.
I also got this tattoo:

In April, I started my apprenticeship as a student midwife, hoping to be a licensed midwife within 3 years. At the end of the month, Bill and I decided to stop being "complicated" and just be friends, because our in-between romance was killing me. It was a sad day. At the time I honestly thought it was the end of us as anything other than friends.

In May, Jackson turned 3 which seemed like a big turning point at the time. Not for him, but for me. It seemed like confirmation that I was done having babies. Why, I have no idea, but as much as I know I really don't want to be pregnant or give birth to any more children, it was kind of a sad, final feeling. A goodbye to my days as a mommy of babies. I had kids now, and I would never have babies again.
Also, Bill and I started dating.

In June, Bill and I went to Vegas, Dave and I took the kids to Illinois, Michigan and inadvertently Missouri for 11 days, and I realized I would need to get a real job by October because my doula business was slowly dying.

In July, Bill and I broke up-again. 
Dave decided to move out.
And my apprenticeship started to fall apart.
It wasn't the best month ever.

In August, I turned 24
I got engaged to someone who wasn't Bill.
I reconnected with my friend Sam from high school.
I went to San Diego with Megan.
My great grandma Vettern died at the age of 96.
And then at the end of the month, Bill told me he loved me, and we got back together. For reals this time.

In September Bill and I went on a short trip to Sedona where we were followed by skunks and watched a drunk brides maid walk face first into a glass window. Don't worry,it didn't break.

In October, I finally found a job, even though it sucked and barely paid our bills.
My relationship with Bill was tested in ways I never thought possible.
For the first time ever I didn't give a shit about Halloween.

November was a better month.
Lainie turned 8
Bill and I went to Sedona again, and had the most magical trip ever.
And for the first time in many many years, my dad hosted Thanksgiving at his house, and no one even died.

And finally December. 
Oh December.
December has been a bit of a roller coaster.
Between Bill's crazy busy holiday kid/work schedule, and my newly jam packed work days, I feel like we haven't seen each other as much, and it's hard for it not to get to me sometimes. Because I'm emotional, and sometimes terribly insecure.
Christmas this year was about a million times more stressful than it has been any other year, and I have no idea why. It just sucked. Not one bit of getting ready for Christmas was fun for me, and usually it's my favorite holiday.
The good part about this month was that I got the new job I was applying for, and it means a big change in the financial picture and the stability of me and the kids.
After this month though, I am more than ready for the new year.

I am ready to say goodbye to this year, and hello to a new one.

I am ready to let go of the bad memories, the tears and the pain, and try to hold on forever to the few sweet moments and lovely memories I will walk away from 2011 with.

"The best way to say goodbye to an era, is to look back and remember what you won't forget"

Happy New Year.
Goodbye 2011.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

I Wrote This For You


When you roll over and kiss my forehead before you fall asleep,
When you lay your head on the back of my shoulder to see the T.V. better when we spoon in bed,
When you reach over and take my hand while you drive us home,
When you tell me I'm your girl
And that I am your one
Your only
It is purest happiness I have ever known
When you sigh contentedly against my neck
When you breathe slowly, deeply, in and out as you dream beside me
When you say my name
And when your laugh bubbles up over top of me like the flutter of wings
It is the simplest
And the most beautiful
Of love songs.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Who Are You?


Do you know you?
But do you have too much time on your hands and want to find some way to waste it?
If so, here you go!

Find out what you need in a relationship to feel loved. It's actually pretty accurate!

The 9 basic personality types. This one was so accurate, it was actually creepy. It was like I wrote about myself, but with a bigger vocabulary and better diction.

This is the one that assigns you a bunch of letters that make up your personality.

So what were my results, you may {but probably aren't} wondering?

Well, my love language is Quality Time and Words of Affirmation, which is highly accurate.

My Enneagram number was 7, and if you read the description of a seven here, anyone that knows me would say it's me, spot on.

And my Meyer-Briggs was an ENFJ, and you can find a good description of that here.  The description it linked me to on the test website was really long, dry and kind of inaccurate. The one linked to above was much better, and I mostly agreed with it. 

So, who are you anyway?

Monday, December 12, 2011

The Junkyard Girl


There is this girl I used to know.
This person I used to be.
She's the girl with mismatched clothes, dirt on both her knees.
Her hair is a mess and her laugh is too loud,
And she's playing somewhere under an old car on the ground.
She's dreaming and singing and talking to the dogs.
She's making up stories where princesses kiss frogs.
It's hot and it's humid but she can't go inside.
Her daddy is in there and since sometime last week he's just sat there and cried.
Some days go by and he won't get out of bed.
Some days go by where he's lost in his head.
And some days go by where he's loud and he's mean,
And he'll say anything to the girl just to get rid of his pain.
The junkyard girl with holes in her shoes,
Who dreams about worlds where people like her don't always lose.
The junkyard girl who just wants to see her dad laugh,
The junkyard girl who doesn't remember when she last had a bath.
Because there isn't hot water, and there isn't a stove,
There's no door on the bathroom and no place else to go.
She lives with the keeper of the junkyard alone
In a one room office she calls home.
She's never known better but she's seen a lot worse
And all she wants is someone to tell her is that she doesn't have her daddy's curse.
So she laughs and she talks and she keeps to herself
And she never tells no one about all her dreams on the shelf
She just sits with her daddy while he cries and he cries
In the dark little office as inside he dies.
Maybe some day she'll leave, 
Someday she'll be free
She'll have heat and a shower and a home full of stuff
And babies and real food and she'll be loved enough.
But no matter where she will go or the people she'll meet,
No matter how much I change or how many sunsets I see,
There are times when I know the junkyard girl is still there in me.
The times where I'm quiet and the times where I'm scared
The times when I run my fingers through Lainie's blonde hair.
The junkyard girl is inside, timid and meek
Wandering through the metal, playing hide and seek.
She is the voice that whispers when I feel all alone,
She is the one that wants to follow wherever dangerous boys roam.
And she is the one who believes I'm the one no one keeps
So on nights like tonight, I say
"Hush girl. Go to sleep."

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Merry Movie Marathon

So all I'm seeing these days is blog and Facebook posts about what the best Christmas movies are. And I swear to baby Jesus, if I hear one more person say that Elf is THE BEST Christmas movie of all time, I am going to cut a bitch.
Elf is a good movie. It's funny, it's cute, I love Will Ferrel as much as the next gal, but it is by far NOT the best Christmas movie. It's not even in my top five. Because I have exceptional movie taste, clearly.
Here, be impressed by me.

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. By far one of the best movies about Christmas ever made.

Home for the Holidays.
If this picture doesn't sum up this movie, I don't know what will. And the movie more or less sums up EVERY holiday I've spent with my family, EVER.

Makes me cry, every damn time.

A Nightmare Before Christmas. This one, for me is both a Halloween and Christmas movie, AND a love story all at once. Triple hitter. Nicely done.

This is another one that makes me cry. Also it's from back when Nicholas Cage was a good actor, not a Civil War era vapire/zombie whatever who was marrying the daughters of dead rock stars and making movies like "National Treasure" and "The Wicker Man". Dear God.

I love the Jim Carrey version of the Grinch. Such a visually stunning movie, and he just pulls off the roll so well. 

Last but not least, my second all time favorite Christmas movie, and one of my favorite movies in general, Love Actually. There are so many quotable, laughable, tear jerking, heart stopping moments in this movie, it's impossible not to love it.
"Kids, don't buy drugs. Become a pop star and people give them to you for free!"
"Did you ever have this problem? Of course you did, you saucy minx, you."
And my favorite: "Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaking suspicion... love actually is all around."

This winter I hope you get to watch all your favorite movies and eat all your favorite foods with all your very favorite people. 

Friday, December 9, 2011

The Friday Diary


Pour yourself a drink, chill, and see what I did these last 7 days. As if you give a shit.

So this week...

Last Friday, I found myself suddenly and for the first time in forever, without my kids on Friday night. Unsure of what to do with myself and all my time, I went to my dad's house. It was First Fridays {a local art walk and free museum night in downtown Phoenix}, and he usually has some of his art hanging. So I head over and found him not looking at or showing art, but watching kids movies and eating chips. The next thing I know, I'm watching Pirates of the Caribbean and drinking hot coacoa with marshmallows on his bed like a six year old, where I ended up passing out and sleeping until 8:30 Saturday morning. My poor dad slept on the floor.
When Saturday rolled around, and I didn't have my kids all day I came to the startling realization that without my kids, I literally have nothing to do but clean, eat and sleep. And not in an awesome way. In a depressing "I may never change these yoga pants again" kind of way.
I fell off the not-smoking wagon Saturday night, right around the same time that I also decided to over react irrationally and cry at Olive Garden. But I got right back on by Sunday, and it's been another solid 6 days of not smoking. Here we go again.
I realized that Christmas is almost exactly two weeks away, and then I had a panic attack and ate 6 pounds of chocolate....Just kidding....{not really}....what? Never mind.
Wednesday night, I was lucky enough to get to hang Christmas lights with Bill and his teenage daughter. It was damn cold outside, but really really fun, laughing and making jokes about Bill possibly falling off the ladder, hearing about what high school is like these days {I do not envy teenagers} and getting attacked by a rosebush. The night ended with some wonderful "fresh" hot chocolate, and a sweet kiss goodnight from a wonderful man. Not bad for a Wednesday.
I have no idea how, but I just discovered this website You Probably Already Saw This. I am obsessed with it, and on it I discovered this song, which had me completely mesmerized and in love the first time I heard it. Put on some headphones in a quiet room and enjoy.
And last but not least, I have my {supposedly hopefully} final step in the interview process for the amazing job I told y'all about that I so desperately want to get, today. I should have an answer on whether or not I got the job by this afternoon, so cross those fingers!

If I do get the job, I promised a couple of my current coworkers that I would quit the job I hate have right now like this:


Linking up with E Tells Tales Check it.


Thursday, December 8, 2011

We Wish You An Awkward Christmas

Photos courtesy of Awkward Family Photos.

Because I'm the worst kind of person, I get into the holiday spirit by ridiculing the spirit of others. 
Join me, won't you?

He said he didn't want a little sister for Christmas...

There is so much "WTF?!" in this picture, I am literally speechless. 

"Care for a catnip biscuit? I made them for my 17 'children' for Christmas!"

Balloon animals: Looking like genitalia since 1943

This one's a twofer. First I thought all the awesome was in that chair arm that looks like it's Santa's special "stocking stuffer", then I noticed the clearly terrified child's pants situation.
Oh Christmas.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

A Beautiful Blaze


I feel like you've taken all of your promises, your sweet words
And hung them in the sky to make these stars
Because no night sky has ever looked so much like it spelled our names.
I can feel the heat in your palms,
The scent of our love burning seeping through the space between your fingers
As they trace my face and learn to draw me with your eyes closed.
I hold my ear to your chest
Listening to the steady echo of your drum-beat heart.
I feel myself stop shaking.
I read somewhere once that when someone has a restless spirit, 
The sound of another's heartbeat would soothe them.
Certainly you calm me darling,
Steadying me in your arms,
Pressing your kiss into my forehead
Just before your lips brush mine
Creating in me a contented soul that's 
Caught fire.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Perfectly Imperfect


I've been thinking a lot about love and relationships, and how those dynamics all work for different people. What works for one couple, would be disasterous for another. What's normal for one couple would drive another crazy, and so on and so on.
Being in the "blog world", I've started to notice that pretty much every blog written by a woman, has a link to her and her beau's love story. The creeper inside me loves this, because if I find a blog I like, I always like it more when I can get to know the writer more intimately. And the curious side of me loves this, because I get to wander through the world of "other people's relationships" and study what makes other relationships tick.
In a love story I read recently, the writer said she loved her husband because he wasn't perfect for her. She said she'd had perfect before, and she couldn't handle it. She needed to work at a relationship, and if it's perfect, there's no work. I found that so interesting, because one of the things that I love most about Bill and I, is that he is perfect for me.  Could I probably be OK in a relationship with someone who wasn't perfect for me? Sure. Could I maybe even be happy, if in this hypothetical life I had never met Bill? Probably. But the way I see it, there is enough mediocre shit in this world, love shouldn't be one part of it. I don't want to be OK, I want to live my life with my best friend, my soulmate, and the love of my life, who is perfect for me, regardless of how imperfect of a person he is.

And now I have everything I could have ever asked for, and more.
I have a boyfriend who continually surprises me, even in small ways, with sweet gestures or kind words, or weekend trips, or unexpected adventures. I have a boyfriend who surprises me by always having more layers of himself for me to discover, explore and learn about, and then fall in love with. I have a boyfriend who calls me on my shit, even when I don't want him to, because I need him to, and he gets that. He says things that are true, even if it doesn't feel good to say it or for me to hear it, because he tries to communicate openly with me, which is something I desperately need in my relationships. I have a boyfriend who works hard, and tries hard, and puts everyone else first, and makes the best plans for the future.

He is perfect for me, but he's not perfect, if that makes sense, and that is what I need. I can't handle being around perfect people. They intimidate me. Bill is flawed, and he's pretty open about that. But for me, he loves me just right, and gets me so well, and gives me so much to look forward to and be thankful about.

I'm not saying it isn't ever hard, of course it's hard! But it's what I've been waiting for since I first ventured into the world of intimate relationships with men.

It's so interesting to me that two people can work so well together, for any number of reasons, but paired up with someone else, it just doesn't work.
I know a couple who has the "never go to bed angry policy" and that works for them. I know a couple who has a "always go to bed angry, sleep it off and apologize over breakfast" policy, and that works for them.

Bill and I are still learning what works for us, but I'm sure it's very different than other couples. At the end of the day, it all comes down to love though, doesn't it? The ties that bond, and the blissful feeling of connecting with another human being in just the right way, in the midst of all the busy, crazy, lonely noise of this big small world.
Isn't that what this life is all about?

Monday, December 5, 2011

Where the Wild Things Are


There is a wild beating in my chest
But it is hardly my heart.
It is the blood and the thunder and the heat seeded lightning
That comes when we are together.
When frantic whispers tangle my hair and the night lifts and opens to let us in.
To allow us to be taken down, exalted, bent and bruised and marked by the purple stain of each other's love.
Night is for lovers after all.
Lovers like wolves who dance around each other all evening, 
And then in the darkness devour.
Taking stolen moments, and stumbled upon chances to disappear into one another.
This is where the wild things are
This is where the ground rises beneath my feet
This is where we are man and animal, timid and beast, alive and dying, flying and falling all at the same time
This is where the sea crashes against us, and we have never been more alive.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

I'm Sorry


I would like to take this time out to apologize to all the people I have been a psycho bee with an itch to this week, as I've struggled and tried to quit smoking, after seven blissful years of smoking.

I'm sorry that I cried at work {9 times in one day}

I'm sorry I couldn't stop saying inappropriate things at work, especially about all the people I normally just dislike, who this week, I've felt downright homicidal about. {not you Chuck}

I'm sorry that anyone had to see me crying, and stuffing dark chocolate in my mouth like premenstrual Queen Latifa.

I'm sorry that I may or may not have become irrationally emotional in Walmart, and then made Bill fight on the phone with me over literally nothing, because I didn't know what to do with all my spare time that I used to spend smoking.

I'm sorry that watching me eat sunflower seeds is comparable to watching someone with dentures eat corn on the cob.

I'm also sorry I can't stop eating sunflower seeds at work.

I'm also sorry my desk at work has so much food on it all the time now, that it slightly resembles John Goodman's Thanksgiving buffet table.

I'm sorry I decided to quit smoking in the same week that I have PMS.

I'm sorry to the people I stabbed, who suggested I might be PMSing.

So far, I've done well on the not smoking, and I'm proud of myself. Hopefully next week will be less Lifetime-movie, and more happy Sarah who doesn't smell like an ashtray or eat 5 bags of pretzel M&M's while crying at 9 in the morning.
{No promises on the M&M thing}

Saturday, December 3, 2011

7 Things Worth Smiling About


1. Being done with this week. It was a heavy hitter.
2. Getting my very first Birchbox in the mail. That shit is like Christmas, but monthly.

3. Being on my 6th day of not smoking.

4. Having a quiet enough night at home, to be able to sit down and teach my daughter how to knit.

5. Daydreaming about future adventures with someone I love

6. Clean, warm sheets and blankets, and a bed big enough for me and both my babies to read a story in before bedtime {even though that usually leads to both the kids falling asleep in my bed}.

7. Whispering in the dark and giggling at silly inside jokes, with my favorite man in the world, even though we were both dead tired and had to be up super early the next day.

8. A job interview for the perfect job, finally done, over with, and {i think} it even went pretty well.

What are you smiling about these days?

Friday, December 2, 2011

My Son Paints His Nails


Recently, I found myself in a confrontational situation.
This is not something I would say I am foreign to, or afraid of, and certainly not something I shy away from if it's an issue that is important to me-or especially close to my heart.
This confrontation was over just such a dear-to-my-heart matter: my son.
Most of you are familiar by now with my little boy, Jackson, who is often affectionately coined "The Jedi" on my blog, mainly so random strangers don't know everything about us, and come kill us in our sleep.
Fingers crossed.
Jackson is a sweet, spirited, funny, and super affectionate little boy, who's big for his age and loud for even his size, and has the best wild, shaggy blonde hair I've ever seen. In a word, he's the sweetest. In so many ways, Jackson is growing up to be your typical man's man. He likes to get dirty, run around, crash toy trucks into each other, have light saber battles, and do generally gross, weird, crazy things that boys like to do. He loves airplanes, motorcycles, and anything that will get him dirty. And he laughs at his own farts.
Yeah, he's a boy, for sure.
But there are a couple things that you might consider different about him.
For instance, he loves pink. Right now, I am pretty sure it's his favorite color. He sees pink things and says "That's so booty-full Mommy!" which of course, means beautiful. In fact, it's safe to say he just likes beautiful things in general. He likes my high heels because they're shiny, slick and come in so many colors! {No, I don't have too many pairs of shoes, damn it}. He likes Lainie's dresses because they are sparkly, shiny, twirly and fluffy. What kid doesn't like sparkly, shiny, twirly, fluffy shit?!
And he likes to have his nails painted.
When it comes to my kids, I have learned over the last 8 years to pick my battles. Is it worth fighting with Lainie over what she should wear to school, as long as she's not picking out things that are dirty/stained/wildly inappropriate? No. Should I definitely enforce the brushing your teeth before school policy, even if she cries about it? Yes. Get the picture?
So, when Jack started pointing out pink stuff he liked, or when he went through that phase of loving stuffed unicorns, I didn't fight him. First of all, why? What's the point? Why make my 3 year old cry over getting him a pink blanket instead of a blue one, when we go shopping for bedding? It's just a color. Why is it ok for him to like blue, or red or yellow, but not pink or purple? It's just a blanket. It's not worth my energy. Why should I deny my son that stuffed unicorn, and insist instead he latch onto a G.I. Joe, or a Toy Story doll, or whatever else? They're all dolls, after all, aren't they? They're all stuffed animals, they're all toys. If a girl wanted a Buzz Lightyear instead of a Barbie, no one would think anything of it. But because my son shreiked and laughed and hugged his stuffed unicorn, I got weird looks in Walmart. And if he'd been older, someone might have said something to him.
Fuck. That.
Now, as I mentioned before, my son likes to have his nails painted. And this is where the confrontation begins. At first when Jack saw me painting Lainie's nails, and asked me to paint his, I was hesitant. I almost said no. And then he crawled onto the bed, and put his hands down flat on the manicure board, and held so still, his little fingers outsrretched and waiting. He wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to do what we were doing. And, he just loved the bright pink color I was painting Lainie's nails. Why should that be wrong?! Again, if Lainie saw Jack and his uncle or grandpa playing football, and she wanted to play, I would lose my mind if they told her no, football is only for boys. So how dare I inflict the same double standard on my sweet boy?
I would not.
I painted his tiny nails, and when it was over, and they were dry, he smiled, quickly said "Thanks" and went outside to dig in the dirt.

Last night, I received in the mail my Birchbox, which I've mentioned here before briefly. Inside, was a bottle of a stunning dark metalic blue nail polish, that made Jacksons jaw drop when he saw it. He wanted me to paint his nails with it.

And I did.

This morning when I dropped him off at Daycare, another mother in his class, who happens to have twins {a boy and a girl} the same age as Jackie, saw his nails as soon as we walked in. It was like she honed in on them like a heat seeking missile. I knew what was coming. I took Jacksons coat off and shooed him off to play. I didn't want him to hear whatever judgmental bullshit was about to fall out of this woman's mouth. She smiled and said "Were his nails painted?"
"Yes" I said, returning her huge smile.
"Did his sister do that to him? Poor kid."
"No, I did. He asked me to. He loves nail polish."
Her smile fell a half an inch, and then she quickly hitched it back up again "Oh. You're ok with him painting his nails?"
"Sure, why not? He likes it. And it's much better than the peeing on everything phase"
"Don't you worry it might give him issues?"
"Like what?"
"You know, like cross dressing...or....."
"It might make him gay?"
"Well, do you think it could?"
"Trust me, {random woman who's name I don't even know, who is acosting me in my child's daycare over peacock colored nail polish}, I think it would be much more detrimental to my child's self esteem and world view, if I went around telling him that he can't be who he is, or find joy and happiness in something as simple as a beautiful color, simply because of his gender. Implying that he should  base his entire identity on the ideals, opinions and hang ups of others. That aside, I don't think I am capable of deciding, or even impacting my son's sexual orientation, and even  if I were able to 'make my son gay' or cause him to crossdress, or however you want to put it, the LAST thing I would want to do is imply his whole life that him being homosexual would be a bad thing. And don't you think that's exactly the message he got, if I made him cry over something as stupid as nail polish, telling it was worth it if it prevented him from liking boys? My main goal here is to raise a happy individual who knows he's loved no matter what he wears or who he goes on dates with when he grows up.  Someone who finds joy and happiness in simple, small things, regardless of how that gender-identifies him. You go right ahead and teach your children that nail polish and color schemes make up all the important parts of their identity, and living in your fantasy world where as long as boys do 'boy things' and girls do 'girl things' then life will never hit you or your children hard. I'll take my chances with the nail polish." And before she could say another word, I walked back to my car, and drove away.

See, the point here is that my son is who he is. Right now, he's 3. He likes a lot of things, including pretty things, and nail polish. One day, he might like electric guitars, black nail polish and garage bands. Or he might like football and cheerleaders. Or he might like boys.

He's my son.

I didn't give birth to him to make him who I wanted him to be.

I gave birth to him so I could watch him grow up, and have the joy of discovering who he decides for himself to be. And if this is all a sign that he's going to grow up to be gay, it doesn't matter. Me stopping him from painting his nails won't change the fact that he wants to, it will only cause more stress and struggle for both of us, and cause anger from him toward me because he can't be who he wants to be, even if it's not hurting anyone. No matter what he likes, or puts on his body, or who he some day falls in love with, he's my son. He's the birth of my soul, which grew legs and goes walking around in the world every day.

He can be whoever he wants to be.

Whoever that is, he will have a mother who loves and defends him to the ends of the earth.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

A Winter To Do List


1. Drink coco with butterscotch schnapps in it, and walk around in the cold air looking at Christmas lights.

2. Build a fire and roast marshmallows in the backyard. 

3. Find a bar with live music, a fire pit, and comfy couches. Have drinks there, and people watch.

4. Play in the snow.

5. Find a cabin in the snow with a fireplace and a hot tub, and turn our phones off for as long as possible.

6. Bake cookies and decorate them with the kids. 

7. Make a gingerbread house.

8. Watch the National Lampoons Christmas Vacation, and Love Actually in a pile of blankets and pillows on the living room floor.

9.  Watch When Harry Met Sally on New Year's Eve, and kiss at midnight.

10. Read, sleep in, cuddle, kiss, and enjoy the excuse for thick sweaters, and long stays in bed.

What are you doing this Winter?