I love, with all my heart, those sweet kid moments that can come wrapped up in the pockets of everyday frenzy and go-go-go-ness. Today, on the way to school, I got to eavesdrop on a conversation between my children, in which they bickered good naturedly over who would miss who more whilst Boy-o was away at school. And then, post drop-off, before Girlio passed out cold, she yelled animatedly into her pink sparkly Maryjane shoe, turned phone. SayIng over and over: "whaaaaat? I can't hear you! It's too loud in my rocket ship! I'll call you back on Earth!"
1. I have a Big, mooshy, swoon-y mama heart.
2. I hope all rockets cone equips with sparkly pink Maryjane shoe phones for the astronauts.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Rennaissance woman
As it turns out, I'm not really falling apart at the seams. I'm not combusting, imploding, or going ass over teakettle. Okay. I am. But I'm also having a renaissance. Yup, it's true. Just ask my therapist.
There are many, many reasons why I love my new therapist - not the least of which is her snappy fashion sense. Really, it's snappy. Also - she makes me think. Rethink. Turn with preconceived notions about myself, my life, my relationships, my choices - on their head. It is both discomfitting, and pretty fucking liberating. (To those of you who are feeling all twitchy and embarassed for me because I've mentioned the word therapist a zillion times in this post - I say this - Good lord, why aren't you in therapy? Maybe it's because I was raised by social-worky-types, but I cannot for the life of me figure out why people are so scared of themselves. And as a stay-at-home mama - I frankly find the opportunity to talk about my needs and thoughts for an hour once every two weeks to someone who cares (okay, she cares because I pay her too, but girls with limited chatting opportunities can't be too picky!) pretty effing luxurious. Nuff said). Anyhow - back to the renaissance.
My therapist, whom, as I have already mentioned, is a smart, snappy dresser, had me imagine what I wanted my life to look like in a year. So I thought for a bit (this question is not as easy to answer as one might think) and began to describe what it might look like. I won't bore you with the details, but it wasn't anything too outrageous. And then, we talked about small ways I could go about making some of those imaginings look more like realities. And she said to me something along the lines of: "You're not falling apart. You're having a renaissance!" Now - while it is clear to me that I am actually falling apart a bit - I am sooooo loving this idea of a renaissance.
This change in perspective alone is worth the cost of paying someone to listen to me talk... :) (Like I said - why doesn't everyone go to therapy?!)
There are many, many reasons why I love my new therapist - not the least of which is her snappy fashion sense. Really, it's snappy. Also - she makes me think. Rethink. Turn with preconceived notions about myself, my life, my relationships, my choices - on their head. It is both discomfitting, and pretty fucking liberating. (To those of you who are feeling all twitchy and embarassed for me because I've mentioned the word therapist a zillion times in this post - I say this - Good lord, why aren't you in therapy? Maybe it's because I was raised by social-worky-types, but I cannot for the life of me figure out why people are so scared of themselves. And as a stay-at-home mama - I frankly find the opportunity to talk about my needs and thoughts for an hour once every two weeks to someone who cares (okay, she cares because I pay her too, but girls with limited chatting opportunities can't be too picky!) pretty effing luxurious. Nuff said). Anyhow - back to the renaissance.
My therapist, whom, as I have already mentioned, is a smart, snappy dresser, had me imagine what I wanted my life to look like in a year. So I thought for a bit (this question is not as easy to answer as one might think) and began to describe what it might look like. I won't bore you with the details, but it wasn't anything too outrageous. And then, we talked about small ways I could go about making some of those imaginings look more like realities. And she said to me something along the lines of: "You're not falling apart. You're having a renaissance!" Now - while it is clear to me that I am actually falling apart a bit - I am sooooo loving this idea of a renaissance.
This change in perspective alone is worth the cost of paying someone to listen to me talk... :) (Like I said - why doesn't everyone go to therapy?!)
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Dear Google - You peeps are homophobic IDIOTS
Google has produced a 20 questions app to allow folks to discern whether or not their son might be gay. Aside from the obvious offensiveness of said app's existence, period, the questions are BEYOND misguided and misleading and wandering right into the realm of hella gross. Said questions are reposted below:
•Before he was born, did you wish for a girl?
•Has he ever been in a fight?
•Does he read the sports page in the newspaper?
•Is his best friend a girl?
•Does he like team sports?
•Is he modest?
•Is he a fan of divas (Madonna, Britney Spears)?
•Does he spend a long time in the bathroom?
•Does he have piercings in his tongue, nose or ears?
•Do you wonder about your son's sexual orientation?
•Are you divorced?
•Does he like musical comedies?
•Has he ever introduced you to a girlfriend?
•Is his father a very authoritarian person?
•Within your family, is the father absent at all?
•During his childhood, was he timid or discreet?
•Does he have a complicated relationship with his father?
•Does he take a long time to do his hair?
•Does he like to dress well: is he very careful when choosing his outfits and selecting brands?
•Does he like football?
So - from this list, we can deduce that boys become gay through 1. divorce, 2. bad relationships with their fathers (cause we all have fathers!), 3. a commitment to personal grooming and 4. prenatal wishing for a girl, Moreover, we can further conclude that ALL straight boys love sports, reading about sports, and are aggressive and lacking in sensitivity.
Are you fucking kidding me, Google? Please promptly get your shit together and move on into the current century.
To sign the petition demanding Google remove this ridiculous app, click below:
http://allout.org/en/actions/androidapp
p.s. - yes I am aware that my posts today are a bit, um, frequent. I'm procrastinating. I'm aware. Feast or famine, lovelies.
•Before he was born, did you wish for a girl?
•Has he ever been in a fight?
•Does he read the sports page in the newspaper?
•Is his best friend a girl?
•Does he like team sports?
•Is he modest?
•Is he a fan of divas (Madonna, Britney Spears)?
•Does he spend a long time in the bathroom?
•Does he have piercings in his tongue, nose or ears?
•Do you wonder about your son's sexual orientation?
•Are you divorced?
•Does he like musical comedies?
•Has he ever introduced you to a girlfriend?
•Is his father a very authoritarian person?
•Within your family, is the father absent at all?
•During his childhood, was he timid or discreet?
•Does he have a complicated relationship with his father?
•Does he take a long time to do his hair?
•Does he like to dress well: is he very careful when choosing his outfits and selecting brands?
•Does he like football?
So - from this list, we can deduce that boys become gay through 1. divorce, 2. bad relationships with their fathers (cause we all have fathers!), 3. a commitment to personal grooming and 4. prenatal wishing for a girl, Moreover, we can further conclude that ALL straight boys love sports, reading about sports, and are aggressive and lacking in sensitivity.
Are you fucking kidding me, Google? Please promptly get your shit together and move on into the current century.
To sign the petition demanding Google remove this ridiculous app, click below:
http://allout.org/en/actions/androidapp
p.s. - yes I am aware that my posts today are a bit, um, frequent. I'm procrastinating. I'm aware. Feast or famine, lovelies.
Dear Kirstie Alley
http://www.salon.com/life/feature/2011/09/24/fat_sex/index.html
Dear Kirstie -
I kinda want to smack you in the face. Because you are really quite irritating. And small bits of insufferable. But I figure the four + years you spent not having fabulous (flab-ulous?) 'fat sex' is punishment enough.
Cheers,
Mama T
Dear Kirstie -
I kinda want to smack you in the face. Because you are really quite irritating. And small bits of insufferable. But I figure the four + years you spent not having fabulous (flab-ulous?) 'fat sex' is punishment enough.
Cheers,
Mama T
Grown-up sex ed test! How well will you do?!
http://www.salon.com/life/sex/?story=%2Fmwt%2Ffeature%2F2011%2F09%2F27%2Fsex_ed
(I did not do nearly as well as someone who spent years as a sex educator should have!)
(I did not do nearly as well as someone who spent years as a sex educator should have!)
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
CNN's "Gender Identity: A Change in Childhood" | Bitch Media
CNN's "Gender Identity: A Change in Childhood" Bitch Media
An interesting video with tots who are trans and their (supportive) parents...
An interesting video with tots who are trans and their (supportive) parents...
I'm still here...
Really, I swear. Um, mostly.
Sorry I've been remiss in posting lately. I am struggling a bit these days: up to the eyeballs in regular kidlet wrangling and household stuff (which I'm oh-so-good at...) + reintegrating my much-hated task of doing the school run and troubleshooting around Boy-o's difficulty with transition re: starting school and a new routine + researching (obsessively, and probably too much for this particular juncture of application writing, but that's just how I roll) + application writing (read: sad attempts at staring at a page and making tapping sounds on the keyboard without actually writing anything). I am stressed out, filled with doubt, freaking lonely and bone-tired. Really - if writing an application while carrying out my regular life tasks is this fucking tricky, then what cloud was I living on thinking I could actually, you know, take courses and stuff? On the plus side - when I have time - I am really enjoying being able to nerd out and live in my head again. Nice place to be, that head of mine, when it functions at a reasonable level.
At any rate - I'm going to apply. And if I don't get, I'm gonna go to work. I sort of don't really even care doing what right now. I just want to leave the house. Wear pretty clothes. And meet interesting people. Maybe even interesting people who sorta think I'm interesting. (Maybe a longshot, but I've been blowing on a lot of dandelions lately, so you never know). Anyways - whether it be school or work - I am trying to remind myself that this at-home isolation is finite.
And that, dear readers, if you're still with me, is where I've been.
I'll try to pop in more and write something resembling interesting soon.
In the meantime, you should check out the neat link I'm going to post right after this, about CNN coverage of trans kids. Kinda made me feel hopeful about the world.
Sorry I've been remiss in posting lately. I am struggling a bit these days: up to the eyeballs in regular kidlet wrangling and household stuff (which I'm oh-so-good at...) + reintegrating my much-hated task of doing the school run and troubleshooting around Boy-o's difficulty with transition re: starting school and a new routine + researching (obsessively, and probably too much for this particular juncture of application writing, but that's just how I roll) + application writing (read: sad attempts at staring at a page and making tapping sounds on the keyboard without actually writing anything). I am stressed out, filled with doubt, freaking lonely and bone-tired. Really - if writing an application while carrying out my regular life tasks is this fucking tricky, then what cloud was I living on thinking I could actually, you know, take courses and stuff? On the plus side - when I have time - I am really enjoying being able to nerd out and live in my head again. Nice place to be, that head of mine, when it functions at a reasonable level.
At any rate - I'm going to apply. And if I don't get, I'm gonna go to work. I sort of don't really even care doing what right now. I just want to leave the house. Wear pretty clothes. And meet interesting people. Maybe even interesting people who sorta think I'm interesting. (Maybe a longshot, but I've been blowing on a lot of dandelions lately, so you never know). Anyways - whether it be school or work - I am trying to remind myself that this at-home isolation is finite.
And that, dear readers, if you're still with me, is where I've been.
I'll try to pop in more and write something resembling interesting soon.
In the meantime, you should check out the neat link I'm going to post right after this, about CNN coverage of trans kids. Kinda made me feel hopeful about the world.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Catch 22
I was talking to someone awhile ago about the real challenges posed by being both an introvert and a stay-at-home parent. The primary one is, of course, never getting to be alone. I don't do anything alone, including trips to the bathroom and, at present, even sleeping arrangements involve close up time with the kiddies. And then there's the always having to be 'on'. And you know, talking. Or rather, responding to talking. Eeep! And so I fantasize about having alone time quite a bit.
But then, the catch 22. Which is that this work is also achingly lonely. And opportunities to be with other grown-ups sans littles few and far between. So I kinda don't want to be alone. Except that I do.
Funny that.
(Or not.)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
But then, the catch 22. Which is that this work is also achingly lonely. And opportunities to be with other grown-ups sans littles few and far between. So I kinda don't want to be alone. Except that I do.
Funny that.
(Or not.)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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