The Vagina-Mommy Incident

male_female

Today, I went to use the restroom and through the cracked door I heard my 4 year old saying, “Hey, you’re going potty, but you don’t have a weenie.”

I froze, partially because of my son’s obvious lack of bathroom etiquette, and partially because I could sense there was something serious about this moment. My son was aware that we were different in a fundamental way and that was probably a big deal.

“Yes, you’re right,” I said slowly, trying to decide what to say next. I could hear the mixture of confusion and curiosity in his voice as he pondered the situation and I wanted to help him understand. So, in some delusional moment of over-confidence I decided:

(more…)

Poem: Art Class (Spoken Word)

Anyone who knows me, knows I’m not a normal grown-up.

 

Art Class is about the time I took Kai to a toddler art class and realized I wasn’t anything like the other moms there. The thing is, I feel like a little girl wearing a grown-up suit most of the time. Somehow, without being fully aware of it, I slipped into adulthood. I never felt a defining moment, there was never a point at which I could say, “Ah ha! Now, I am a grown-up.” I have often considered the idea that my maturation has been the result of time and inevitability with little conscious effort on my part.

(more…)

Batman, Dora, and Catching Cows: A Few Thoughts on Why I Love Being a Parent

One of the main perks of being a parent (aside from all the love and stuff) is getting a new holiday. In celebration of Mother’s Day on Sunday I thought I’d share my top 3 reasons why I love being a parent:

1. My life is ridiculous and surreal

• I get to start my day with whatever crazy thoughts are stored in a 5 year old’s brain. This morning the first words I heard as I was just waking up were, “Hey, we need that sausage ice tray!”
Let that color your day.

• I get to do what were once mundane tasks like grocery shopping accompanied by Batman.  

batman

(more…)

Why is My Fetus Trying to Ride a Bike?

His first word was mama.

Actually, it was probably something more like mmm mmm mmm,  but I totally knew what he meant.  Soon, it became a clear ma  ma  with a cute little pause between the syllables. I loved hearing it.

I remember one time when he was six months old, his grandfather tried to hold him and carry him into another room to watch a football game. This decision was met with screams and tears. I took my baby back into my arms, and then, his little body filled with all the infant indignation he could muster, he looked right at his grandpa and shouted, “MA MA”  as though to say, How dare you take me out of sight of my mommy, you crazy man? He put his head on my shoulder, patted my back with his tiny hand, and whispered “ma ma” to me next, reminding both he and I that this is where he belonged.

(more…)

Poem: Parents

I’m a poet. Well, I used to be…Well, I still am… I’m just writing more essays and less poetry lately. But, I paid a lot of money to study poetry at a private university, completed a 90 page Master’s thesis chock full of poetry, and my work has been published. So there’s that.

My background is in performance and poetry, so here’s a piece that I’ve done at a few readings. I’ll upload an audio track of it soon.

Parents

It’s funny how at parties, those who are parents

will swap stories about their past exploits

and someone will inevitably joke that

life is over when you have a baby –

(more…)

Optimus Prime vs the English Major

It was 6:30 am. 6:30 in. the. morning. It was dark outside. Birds were sleeping. I should have been sleeping… instead I was sitting in bed trying to shake off the delirium from having been awoken suddenly in the middle of a dream and trying to comprehend why I was holding a half transformed Optimus Prime toy. A few inches from my face were the big bright wide awake eyes of my four year old.
“Do it mommy! Transform him back into a truck!”

“Huh? What?”

“I need him to be a truck again. I made him a robot, but now he wants to be a truck.”

“Okay. Yeah.”

optimus

I’d been parenting for five years – I wasn’t fazed. Of course my four year old was awake and in my face. Of course I needed to transform this toy right now before the sun came up.

I turned the toy over in my hands. I remember Transformers, I love robots, I can totally do this. I looked Optimus over with my bleary sleep deprived eyes. Hmm. I moved limbs, twisted pieces different directions. He was definitely transforming into something… but he looked less like a truck and more like an unfortunate robot that had had a run-in with a truck.

(more…)

Save the Limes!

Yesterday I was sitting in the living room eating a protein bar. Kai was eyeing it so I asked him if he would like one too. He’s five now, so of course his answer wasn’t just “yes,” instead he told me to wait there and he would go to the kitchen by himself and get his own snack.

Of course.

Because being five means that you do everything yourself even the things you shouldn’t attempt and of course all of the things that make his father and I think, oh my god why is he trying to do that himself doesn’t he know he’s only five??  Independence is awesome. Bull headed independence with no experience or wisdom to back it up is terrifying. Five might give me a heart attack.

(more…)

The Bathroom Cheerleader

I was packing for a family trip back to Houston. The commencement ceremony for my Master’s degree was the next morning and I had decided to participate. I was torn between feelings of both pride at my accomplishment and dread at wearing the regalia when I heard a faint cry from my son’s bathroom.

“Mommy…. Mommy, I need you.”

I dropped the gown and hood and ran into his bathroom to find him sitting on the toilet looking pale.

“What’s wrong baby? Are you ok?”

“No,” he replied breathily like a solider just off the front line, “I can’t get the poo poo to come out; I need you to cheer for me.”

What?? He wanted me to cheer for him… to poop??

I stood stunned for a second. I was upset that my son was in obvious physical distress, but I was also beginning to feel the creeping dread that every parent knows quite well: my child is going to ask me to do something weird and uncomfortable that I wouldn’t want my friends to know about…and because I’m a good parent, I’m gonna do it.

(more…)

Getting to know me

Since this is a brand new blog, I thought my first post should give you a little background on me and my family. I think the only way to really do that is to post highlights of some of our actual conversations this year:

That one time we got to go on a date:

[Actual conversation on the patio at Whole Foods]

Me: Do you want the apple fritter or the carmelita? Hmm, that sounds like the name of a European call girl.

Paul: Apple Fritter?

Me: No, Carmelita. Apple Fritter sounds like the name of a trashy southern drag queen.

Paul: [husky southern drawl] My name is Apple Fritter and I want to thank y’all for coming on down here to see me at The Chicken Neck.

(more…)