Sparkle On!

Here’s hoping your weekend kicks ass, guys.

Braden and I will be playing with these:

Also, eating hotdogs, playing outside, and just generally hanging out together.  On Saturday, John will join us in our merriment.  There is much to be thankful for.  Like anytime the 3 of us are together.  That’s pretty sublime.

Can you believe that is the most recent picture of the 3 of us together? That’s from October, for cryin’ out loud!?  Who thinks we should take a new one on Saturday?    *raises hand*

 

If you have any downtime this weekend and feel like reading: yesterday’s post is here, and there’s one I’m excited about here, too.   (*school-girl-type squeal*)

Comments on either/both are appreciated… as always ( b/c I’m an Attention Whore, I’ll admit it freely).

By the way, thanks so much to all of you who already hopped over there and read, and BIG thanks to those who commented! You even had to do MATH to leave a comment there. And that’s just above and beyond what should ever be required without compensation. So really, thanks, You Wonderful People! You made my day yesterday.

*gratuitous ass kiss warning*

Know this: I appreciate all of you, you who read, you who comment, – even you who don’t comment as long as you’re here with me! I appreciate you who are here often as well as you who only visit sporadically. I just appreciate all of you. Without you, there wouldn’t be much reason for me to hit “publish” on any of these posts. Sure, I write this for myself and write what I want to write, but I could keep a private journal if it didn’t have something to do with my interactions with YOU.

So, thanks so much for supporting me whenever you can.

*end of gratuitous ass kissing*

 

Now go eat some grilled stuff, drink some fun drinks, watch the bright lights and listen to the loud pops and the laughter of your loved ones, while you smile and soak it all in.  Enjoy every moment, it’s worth it.

<3

 

Another little boy I once spent a lot of time with.

My brother is one of those people you instantly like.

That’s because you didn’t have to grow up with the little brat.  He was sneaky, conniving, arrogant, and I damn near thought he was evil sometimes.

Knowing this would only make him smile.  I guarantee it to you.  This is just part of his charm.  And he’s got a lot of it. 

Some of my worst childhood memories involve my brother.  Can you imagine someone hitting you in the head with a brick and then manipulating the course of events so that you actually get punished for that?

Some of my best childhood memories also involve him, and revolve around my relationship with him.  I will never see a Fall Leaf fluttering to the ground without thinking of him and smiling.  If you have never Leaf Danced, you should try it sometime, folks. 

Overall, the good memories outweigh the bad memories.  Which is nice.

He has gone through so very much, changed  and grown so dramatically in the past 10 years.  He has always been fiercely intelligent, but now he is also becoming a responsible, successful young adult.  I’m so proud of him.

Today, he defended his Masters Thesis, and passed.  That is Big Shit, people.

And now, it’s time for him to make some very important decisions.  These are big, life changing things.  Of course, in some way, all decisions we make every day change the paths of our lives.  But he’s clearly in a situation where he has to make one of those BIG, FAT nerve-rattling, anxiety-inducing decisions that won’t just gently nudge him over a little on the road.  It’s one that could just bump his ass onto the next ferry and take him over to the other shore.  Dig?

I’d like him to know that I know he’s going to make the best decision for him.  I know that no matter what decision he’ll make, he’s going to be a success, and lead a good life.  The core of him and who he is tells me that.  There may have been times when I was afraid of which path he would choose, but not anymore.  I am not worrying about him anymore, just watching, curious, to see what kind of great things he will accomplish next.

He’s a worrier by nature, so, in case he reads this, how about leaving some encouraging words for him in comments today?  I’d really appreciate that.  I know you don’t know the specific details, but you know enough to leave some words of encouragement.

Knowing he’s at this point right now reminds me nostalgically, and somewhat painfully, of a time in my life when I had a very similar decision to make.

I wonder which direction the wind in his sail will blow?

 

*******

Please don’t forget to read my article at Quirkee.com today! And me love you long time if you comment there.  

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So cute, you’ll vomit.

 

But watch this video anyway, okay? 

 

 

PS: please do not make any reference to dying cows, banshees, or the sound of cats fighting.

PPS: Tomorrow (Thursday) the next issue of Quirkee.com goes live, and my first article for the From the Mouths of Babes column will be included!

*EEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeee!*

Totally excited, nervous, and anxious about it.  Total newb, I know! 

Don’t forget to check it out and leave lots of comments for me there on Thursday, okay?   

Where I ramble on and lose your interest.

(If your eyes glaze halfway through, at least read the last bit, okay?  Pinky swear you will.)

So, I wanted to make a clarification after yesterday’s post.

No one emailed me or commented anything to move me to do so, btw.  I just tumble things around in my head a lot, and sometimes lots of things occur to me about what I’ve said that did not originally ocurr to me.  Okay, sometimes?  ALL the time.

Call me slow on the uptake, or something.  Just don’t call me, “Fluffly McNutterButter.”  Don’t ask.  Just don’t call me that.

I wanted to make sure that people understand that I really do love being a mother.  I am not committing myself to making my family suffer so that I can do this writing/blogging thing. 

[The only thing I would willingly make my family suffer for is a free Dyson.  I'd strap their asses to a medievel torture rack for one.  Or railroad ties.  Or dangle them from a balcony in front ot the media.  You know, anything incredibly dangerous and irresponsibly insane.  DYSON PEOPLE, are you paying ANY attention to me yet?!]

In no way am I saying, “I’m willing to deny Braden the time with me that he needs, because I just feel like hangin’ out over here being selfish and stuff with my keyboard and typish thingies and my digital camera whatsidoogie.”  And somehow, I feel the need to blow a valley-girlesque bubblegum bubble and pop it with my cherry red press-on nails afer the way I just typed the previous quote.  But I have neither bubble gum nor press-on nails, so I’m gonna have to miss out on that for now.

If I did think, for one minute, that writing for this website, or any other, was doing detriment to Braden as a person, or harming our family, I would drop off The Mighty Interwebs.  In a heartbeat.  But honestly, I just don’t think that’s the case.  Not here, anyway.  So that’s not what’s happening.

What I am going to be doing is enlisting John to help me carve out some specific time to work on things of the “me” variety.  I’ve been trying really hard to juggle everything on my own, and what has ended up happening is a lot of not sleeping very much and letting myself get run down.  Generally, I’ve been staying up very late to work on things around here, and frankly, that just makes me a crappy mother, because it shortens my fuse considerably.  I need to be gettin’ my ass in bed at an hour that would make any grandma proud.

All apologies to any Rock’nRoll Grandmas who might have been offended by that last statement.

Also, a couple of you made reference to the “job” I referred to in yesterday’s post.  I wanted to point out that I wasn’t talking about a “real” job so much as I was talking about this website.  It’s my “not really paid” job (unless you count the ad revenue, and really, that ain’t sendin’ Braden to college, ya dig?)… but it’s a job, because I put myself on a schedule and I expect a certain level of performance from myself.  Does that make sense?  Not that I make it unpleasant by doing that, because it’s still my website and I can do/write/say/post/etc anything I want.  That’s liberating.  But expecting a certain standard of things (stop laughing at me for saying I have standards) from myself here also makes this something to me that is important, and not just a plaything.

And that means something to me, inside.  Ya dig?  It’s like what a “real” job does for your psyche.

That being said?  I do have a couple of fun new gigs starting up, thank you so much for asking! :-P  Neither is a paying gig, either.  Either I’m a glutton for punishment, an Attention Whore, or I really do enjoy this whole “writing thing.”  You decide.

So…

I’m officially one of four contributing authors on a new ”Moms” column, “From the Mouths of Babes,” at Quirkee.com.  Please check the website, and the column, out.  There are great writers and cartoonists there, and quality content you are bound to enjoy!  I’ll be publishing a piece there every fourth Thursday (starting THIS Thursday!).  On other Thursdays, you’ll find great stuff on our column by the lovely and talented ”Babes,” Piper, Kadi, and dKaye, as well as many other articles and interesting content across the board on the website.

I’m also on the cusp of being a contributing author for Deep South Moms, a blog that is part of the Silicon Valley Moms Group.  The site abounds with amazing women writers, as do the other blogs in the group.  Lovelies you’ll find contributing at DSM include the ladies of Queen of Shake-Shake, BlondeMomBlog, Milkbreath & Margaritas, Mommy Needs Coffee and many more.  There is definitely a “tall glass of southern sass” being served up there daily.  So mosey on over yonder, ya’ll, take a load off and have a look’see.

 

So, there ya have it.  Much more than you wanted to read about me and my thoughts, dreams, and plans on a random Tuesday.

What’s up in your life this lovely Tuesday, eh?

 

Looking back over my shoulder, and then towards the horizon.

So, I’m still thinking a lot about how much time I spend being a Momma, and how much time I get to just be me.  And the disparity.  And how I need to manage that better, and have help doing so. 

Thinking about what I need to be a mentally healthy, happy person.

Thinking about how I need to carve out something that’s my own, and to myself.  You know, time for me to just step to the side, alone, and say, “Leave me alone right now.  I need to just be me for a little while.” 

 

I LOVE this gig as mother and wife, don’t you DARE get me wrong.  But, people, I am MORE than that.

see…

Before my son and my husband, I actually existed and had interests and desires!  Oh.  My.  Gah.

I was this functioning, complex, driven person before a human being was thrust forth from my nethers. 

I was a dreaming, aspiring, determined to go and do and become! person before I ever heard that sweet Texan drawl on the other end of the phone line back in 2001.

Who I am and the direction I’ve been pointed in has changed in so very many ways in the past several years.  The way the wind has blown for me has constantly changed, it has whipped me this way and that, and I was lucky enough to be able to let myself float along with that ferocious breeze. 

You see, some time ago, I said, “Self?” 

And My Self said, “Yup, Loter?” 

And I said, “Self, I’m kinda scared, because I had all these really specific plans for Us.  And, um, Self, things might go weird if We grab ahold of this sail and let the wind whip Us somewhere else.” 

And My Self just leaned back and said, “Hmm, is that so?” 

And I said, “Yeah, Self.  I’m really kinda scared.  But I think it might be interesting, too.” 

And My Self raised an eyebrow and said, “Ya think?” 

And I said, “Yeah, I do.  And that We might regret it if We let that sail pass Us by.” 

And My Self?  Well, it just smiled and said, “Well, then, what are We waiting for?”

And we grabbed the sail.  And we let the wind fill it and carry us away from all of our special plans.  And it showed us lots of other things we never knew were in store for us.

Very many good things have befallen this lady’s self.  A few bad things have trampled on her, as well.  And she has learned very much about Her Self.

And now?  I’ve been doing this thing right here for a little over nine months.  That’s right, this website has gestated for a complete term, and it is… well, it’s helping me birth the realization that I am actually DOING some things here that I have a talent for! (Right?  Please tell me I’m not completely delusional.) and which I thoroughly ENJOY!

The photos, the writing, the sharing, philosophizing, and pondering out loud, with wordage, to all of you.

I feel I am becoming something better.  I feel I am finding my place in the world.

And people, I can’t let anything stop me.  It’s time for some serious time-management strategies.  Momma’s got a job here on Teh Internets, ya’ll.  And even though it pays little more than extreme satisfaction at the ability to create, and do, and even become!, Momma is gonna stick with it, folks.

My Self and I?  We just bought a compass.

Being a parent, yourself, always puts things into perspective.

I was totally thinking of complaining today about some Braden-related things. His gums have been bleeding when I brush them, and I’m trying to figure that out. Also, his refusal to use a regular cup has become maddening, and I’ve been trying to help him make the change. These are the type of things I obsess and worry over. You know, on a small scale. Of course, I’m also worried about all the other things that go into raising him properly, and there are many which hit a much more complex/grande scale of importance, but these are the types of details that float in and out of our everyday lives.

Then tonight I watched a 20/20 special called, My Secret Self – A Story of Transgender Children. It aired previously, about a year ago, but this was the first time I saw or heard anything about it.  The special, that is.  The condition itself (Gender Identity Disorder), I have known of already - even studied it to some degree in graduate school – but I’ve never seen a special like this that dealt so intimately with the lives of actual children who have a life-force that is in strong opposition to the shape of their mortal coils.  I learned about the “secret life” of Riley, “Jazz,” and Jeremy.

I found the episode that aired a year ago, on youtube, broken up into five segments.  I’ve embedded them here, so you can watch them, if you’re interested.  It’s worth the time to take in their stories.

When you close your eyes, you don’t have to know the shape of your anatomy to know who you are. You are distinctly aware of your gender. It’s a strong part of your mental identity, your soul, your being, whatever you want to call it. You don’t have to ask anyone else how you should feel, what the shape of your body is, what organs lie inside your abdomen, or what your voice sounds like in order to identify with your gender. You can close off everything outside yourself and check in with your inner core, and you know.

And can you imagine looking at yourself after that and seeing the shape of something else?  Or being told that you are something else?

I can’t even begin to truly understand, but I can begin to imagine.  As a parent, watching that special, I was moved by so many visceral emotions.  Barbara Walters said she thinks most viewers will be “moved to greater understanding.”  I was moved well beyond that.  What must it be like to try to help your child through this?

It was hard to get Braden off the pacifier, and it’s going to be difficult to get him to give up his sippy-straw cups.  Hill of beans.  Such small change.

I can promise that the reasons why I took that piece of plastic away from him and why I want him to learn how to use his cup, even though those things are causing distress for him (and me) in the short-term, are the same reasons why I would support him – the person he is inside his own mind, not the shape of the bag of meat he lives in – no matter what.

It’s because he’s my child, and I love and respect him.  I’m bound by that love and respect to make the choices that are best for him, no matter how uncomfortable and difficult they may be.  Either short term, or long term.

That’s what I signed up for.  That’s why I’m here.

I can’t even begin to imagine reacting in any other way.

 

 

Meal Time Memory Lane

First he ate like this,
through good times and bad, so close…
extension of me.

It did not work out.
His condition dictated
he would “bottle it.”

Wonder formula -
Nutramigen, Liquid Gold -
helped his insides heal.

Cereal was next.
Greedily, he devoured it.
That’s my little man!

Then add in green beans.
Mmmm, that’s good stuff, isn’t it?
Loved bananas, too.

First sippy cup use!
Soon after, snubbed it for months.
Such a little tease.

Loved variety…
Sweet ‘taters a favorite.
Looked good on his face.

He scarfed, and soon he
was quite the roly-poly,
little chub-muffin!

Prunes were oh-so-loved!
Meat, however, was abhorred!
Not a “texture fan.”

Cute, little booger
loved to gnaw a piece of fruit
in his safety mesh.

And look at the face
made with the first popsicle!
“Mommy! It’s so COLD!”

First time, own spoon/plate…
but just play, not serious.
Cute and happy, though!

Sippy cup returned,
though the bottle hung around
for a few more months.

Finally willing
to pick up “smooshie things” like
this banana piece!

Real attempts were made
at eating with utensils!
Determination.

He’s such a cup tease.
At 12 Months, used a real cup.
(He now refuses.)

His first whole apple!
I was so beside myself.
Such a “big boy” thing.

He even dined with
The Mexican, on the deck.
Had a lovely meal.

Successful spoon use!
Thus he was dubbed, “Spoon Master.”
Such odd, proud moments.

Many face messes.
I have loved his face through all
manner of dried foods.

Moved from sips to straws.
Helps to develop language.
Wish he’d use a cup!

All of a sudden,
A horrible thing happened.
Stopped liking veggies.

It’s okay, we still
offer them to him, and he
will eat them again.

Anyway, sometimes,
wearing your food is much more
fun than eating it.

Utensil use still
continues to improve, and
we are still so proud.

He even had his
first cereal with milk and
spoon, the other day.

Funny how you can
tell the story of growth in
so many ways, eh?

Close with video…
a photo progression of
eating applesauce.

[feed readers: there is a video here]

Uses his spoon well..
but still young enough to know
it’s fun to use hands!

 

Dissed By Dyson Contest

Sadly, there was no congratulatory e-mail in my inbox today telling me that I was the lucky winner of the contest for a Dyson DC25.

Even though it is obvious that my love  and need for one clearly dictate that I should have one.

To those of you who have suggested I just go and buy one already, that is really nice. But there’s this little matter of FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS for me to eclipse before I can do that.

Suffice it to say that the money is needed elsewhere much more greatly than it is needed to fund The Suck I Dream To Own.  (No, not that home liposuction kit, the Dyson.  Stay on track.)

If anyone feels like sending me one, I’ll happily give you my address. Even if it means you might come here and kill us all in our sleep.

I mean, it’s a chance at getting the Dyson, right?

I do have some good news, though.

Looks like our POS Vacuum was merely having a bout of User Error Disorder.

I fished dug excavated this crap out of it the other day:

 

Looks like I’m the POS.

 

*let it be noted, however, that our vacuum is still a POS.  And someone should still bewstow a Dyson DC25 upon me.