Some People Just Don’t Understand.

December 6, 2012 By 3 Comments

To the parent who called my son a “little gay fairy boy” tonight at his middle school basketball game:

The word “gay” is not an insult in our house. It’s not used as a weapon, a casual insult or a way to describe something you really don’t care for.

Gay is just what some people are. Gay is Rain’s two moms or Jesse’s two dads. Gay is a lot of our roller derby friends. Gay looks pretty much the same as straight or bi or asexual. Gay is people you know.

If my son is gay, I hope he’s not as afraid to be gay as you seem to want to shame him into being. If he is and one day comes to me and tells me so, I will be just as proud of him that day as I am today. He is my son and no matter what, I will always adore the shit out of that kid.

My son, gay or not, is kind to everyone (even his sister who can be really annoying sometimes), polite, helpful, incredibly intelligent, modest, funny, sensitive and most of all, he is himself. I work very hard to allow him the environment to express himself in whatever way he chooses, be that in bright pink letters or green or blue or orange.

My son is amazing and not just because he is my son. Because he opens doors for everyone. Because sometimes his socks don’t match and he doesn’t care. Because he sings a little off key and dances like there is nobody watching. Because he eats like no other. Because, given the choice, he would choose a book over television.

So if he’s gay, he is still my son. He is the baby that slept through the night on day five. He is still the little boy who hated to get his hair cut, or take a bath. He is the young man who takes the longest.showers.ever.

He is my baby, my firstborn, and I love him even if he dyes his hair green or pierces his nose or….GASP….likes guys.

So you calling him a fairy boy could be true, or it could not. Doesn’t matter.

You said it as an insult, and as his mother, when I told you:

“shut your mouth, that’s my son“,

what I meant was:

“that’s my boy and I am proud of him no matter what and you trying to insult him that way is degrading, and just shows that you’re an ignorant assmonkey who has such low self esteem that he needs to pick on seventh graders to make himself feel better.”

Please watch what you say in front of children. I would hate for your son to turn out as damaged as you.

Xoxoxo,

Mia

Ps: your wife heard you say that.

Filed Under: Boy Wonder, I am pouty and I want to tell you all about it, Letters that will never get mailed

House Full of Turkeys

November 22, 2012 By Leave a Comment

From our lil family to yours, we hope you have a very very happy turkey day, no matter if you celebrate or not.

And I am thankful for all of you who stop by and send emails and hit up the Facebook and chat on Twitter and the Instagram.

You make my life a little brighter every day.

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And yes, that’s a turkey hat. You’re welcome.

Filed Under: Chuck, Kids, Stuff that has nothing to do with anything in particular

Chuckita Norris and Work

May 24, 2012 By Leave a Comment

I look at her sometimes and it’s hard to remember what it was like to carry her inside of me. What it was like to be the only one to know this awesome secret I would soon unleash on the world.

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And sometimes I wonder what she will be like as an adult. Will she be tall? Still have dark hair? Will she still have that big silly smile and say certain words with a Jersey accent?

Will she still be my baby?

I miss the days when she was wee and didn’t talk much. When she would look at me with those big dark liquid eyes with those long spiky dark lashes and smile so big, her eyes would disappear.

She didn’t move much for a while there and was a late walker, and that was awesome.

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Now, unless she is asleep, she is moving all of the time. Singing silly songs to her cereal in the morning. Dressing herself. Having her own (very loud) opinion.

I will miss this. I have to go back to work very soon, due to one very large debt that must get paid off so we can move out of Chef’s parents house.

I spent a good hour yesterday crying so hard I threw up, thinking about how much of this I will miss, working for someone else.

I have not worked since Chuck was born. I enjoyed being a stay at home mom and I enjoyed watching both of my babies grow uninterrupted.

Now, I worry about both of them and what a transition like this will do. I worry about what it will do to me.

I have to postpone my plans and my dreams to pay off a large debt that I should never have had to incur in the first place, and I am angry. I am tired. I am frustrated. And I have applied for job after job after job and I hear nothing back.

I wonder if my emails even make it past the spam filters.

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So for now, I will enjoy my crazy children and my waning days as a stay at home mom and I will be thankful for the time I got to spend with them, and will look forward to other things in our lives instead of dwelling on what shouldn’t have to be.

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Ps: I have had a lot of people ask me why I blog so much about Chuck and hardly ever about Boy Wonder. He is 12 now, and I subscribe to the theory that at that age, he gets to tell his own story. It is no longer my story to tell unless I ask permission….and these days, he rarely grants it ;)

I would blog about him all the time if he’d let me.

Filed Under: Chuck

Momma Mia

May 13, 2012 By 1 Comment

I am a mom.

And today is Mothers’ Day.

I did a whole lot of nothing today, and even got to sleep in for an hour. I made a delicious breakfast for my kids and Chef, I hung out and read a book that wasn’t on child development or midwifery. I painted my nails and Chuck’s nails. Nonnie (Chef’s grandma) gave me some money and told me to spend it on something shiny or fun and not on the kids.

I might even give myself a pedicure before bed.

All in all, I got to spend Mothers’ Day with the reasons I am a mother, and I got to hang out with some of my favorite moms.

I hope you celebrated your momma or were feted by your momma-making offspring in some shiny/glittery/fancy way today, because all moms deserve at least a big fat hug and a “thanks for raising/birthing/rescuing me.”

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Or in Chuck’s case, “thanks for letting me use your stupidly large stash of makeup to paint my face like a superhero princess”.

Filed Under: Boy Wonder, Chuck, Kids, Opinionated Grandma Squad

Well, I’ll be.

May 4, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Somehow, I have two children.

This is not a new development. Chuck is 2 1/2, Boy Wonder is 12. I have had nearly 3 years to get used to this.

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But every morning I wake up and handle two very different sets of needs and it’s flabbergasting to me that the girl who used to forget to eat before birthing children now makes sure both of her kiddos eat a balanced meal at least twice a day.

I answer the “Why?” question with two varied sets of answers…less dumbed-down for the 12 year old and endlessly for the 2 year old. I allow both of them to dress themselves, but Chuck needs a little more guidance or she would wear a diaper and a pig shirt and one boot out of the house.

Bubbles and bubble wrap fully occupy both of them, one being more methodical than the other. They play well together until Chuck gets a little rambunctious, then Boy Wonder is pretty much done.

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Two different sets of books to be read. Two different bedtimes. Two very different personalities.

Two very different beings that once grew in my body. Two people who I pushed into this world, and will (gently) push out into the bigger world to function fully on their own once they are ready, like baby birds from my nest.

One day, Chef and I will be alone in our “nest”, and I (at least) will miss the kids hollering down the hall looking for socks (MO-OOOOOOMMMM!!!) and the homework and the crazy that ensues. So for now, I enjoy the chaos and the arguing and the worrying about the hair and the choice of bath color and the war over “yes, you have to take a shower. You are a preteen boy and you smell like one”, only without saying that because I don’t want to hurt feelings.

I’m excited to see who my little people grow into, but for now, I’m ok with the hours spent matching socks and folding laundry, only to find it wedged behind a pile of jackets on the floor of a closet.

Filed Under: Boy Wonder, Chuck, Kids, Stuff that has nothing to do with anything in particular
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