for every monday ever.

this is a post-lift, plain & pure,
from one of my favorite blogs, simple mom.

blog-mistress & key voice tsh oxenreider
penned this one, & it's just such a
remarkable reminder, it's well worth repeating.

enjoy:

as you start this new week,
may you find a sliver of inspiration in an unexpected place —
your preschooler’s scribble on the back of your grocery list,
the first daffodil in your backyard,
a harebrained story retold by your child as you chop the onions,
a lovely shade of nail polish on sale.

may you remember to stop & really listen to
those little bits of inspiration gifted to you.
during the carpool line & the costco shopping,
may you tune in your ears & eyes just so,
so that you stop & remark on the loveliness of that yellow bell pepper.
may you find that song on the radio
that makes you want to crank up the volume,
sing along, & maybe roll down the windows.

& when things are hard this week —
& there will be hard times this week —
may you remember the good parts of your day, too,
so that you resist labeling the whole day “horrible.”
& if your day truly is a train wreck,
may you find solid sleep,
so that you can wake up again,
ready to roll up your sleeves
& start over.

every new day is a gift. remember that this week.


image source: iris @ the natural gardener, 4.13.13, by me.

boy-girl parties & tea-party parents.

i honestly didn't expect it,
but middle-age is hitting me kind of hard.

since turning 45yo last summer,
i've begun both peri-menopause & antidepressants,
i'm preparing for my oldest to begin high school [whaaaaaaaaaaaaa???],
& now, my youngest is ending his single-digit years.

yep. big boy's turning ten.

it's bringing me down, man. bumming me out, dude.
making me nostalgic, somewhat melancholy & a little weepy.
& i don't think it's the hormones. this time.

i am sad about the looming finiteness of our four-family togetherness.
i am sad about the loss of actual children around our house.
i'm worried about what the tween/teen years hold for both of our kids.

& i am sad about the growing gap between me & my parents.

how are these things related, as it were?

well, our boy is special. every child is special, of course,
but our boy likes girl stuff. always has. & always will, i reckon.

he prefers imaginative play over physical play.
he befriends mostly girls, & all of his very best friends have been girls.
he prefers girl characters, girl names, & toys & books marketed for girls.
& all of this has been true since he was a toddler.

at this point, we don't know what this means for his identity.
it might mean he's gay. it might mean he's transgender.
it might mean he's a straight boy who likes girl stuff.

but in our current culture, one thing it will surely mean is
he's going to get shit because of it. maybe a little, maybe a whole goddamn lot,
but he will be questioned & mocked & probably humiliated
& hurt emotionally & maybe even physically because of it.

so, as his mama, my mantra is: this house, this family must always be
where he can come & be utterly himself & be wholly accepted
& completely loved. period. no qualifications. no ifs, ands, buts, etc.

so, we threw him a dora-themed birthday party
when he turned three & again when he turned four.
we bought him the ariel nightgown he loved so much at disney world.
we sent him to fashion camp the past two summers.

we also get him plenty of building toys & puzzles &
animal-themed things, because he likes them, too.
we facilitate playdates with his close friends, boys & girls alike.
we talk about how different people like different things,
& how that's ok, because everybody's different.

last year, we threw him a monster high-themed birthday
party, & we're doing it again this year.
but in our family, ten is the magical age at which
you're permitted to have a slumber party.
so naturally, he wants to have one.

with five of his very best friends. who all happen to be girls.

he has been talking about it excitedly since october.
& i've been fretting about it slightly since october.

i fretted about the appropriateness of a 9-10yo boy-girl sleepover.
but then i realized that was my conservative upbringing talking,
that i knew there was exactly 0% inappropriate about our boy
& his girl friends & their feelings/intentions toward each other.

so then i fretted nobody would show, no other parents would
permit their girls to come for fear of inappropriateness.
& i fretted about the heartbreaking disappointment our boy
would experience if that happened.

but i can't control how other people parent their children,
only how i choose to parent mine.

so i sent an invitation via email to the moms
of the five girls. & toward the bottom, i noted
that ours will be the only boy at the party,
that the kids will be sleeping in an open playroom
next to our master bedroom, & that parental eyes & ears
will be alert to them at all times.

& all five moms have rsvp'd with an enthusiastic yes!
[one girl might not spend the night, as she's wary of sleeping away from home,
but she's coming to the evening portion of the party.]

no questions, no concerns, no worries.
because they know us, & more importantly, they know our son,
& their daughters love him, so they do, too.

my mother, on the other hand, was appalled
we're hosting such a mixed-company soiree.
not that i really expected a different reaction.
hoped for, maybe, but not expected.

these are the same grandparents who won't give him
the gifts he wants most for christmas or birthdays
if they're marketed for girls. i must identify
clearly gender-neutral items for them to buy.

they are the same grandparents who think
homosexuality is a choice made against god &
who actively oppose equal rights for the lgbt community.

& they are the same grandparents who believe
our children are already going to hell because
we didn't have them baptized in the church.

none of which is to imply they don't love our kids.
they act extremely lovingly toward them,
they're generous & kind & playful,
& the kids love spending time with them.

& from their perspective, i'm sure their negative judgment
of our parenting choices comes from a place of love,
of wanting what's best for teen girl & big boy . . .
& of not feeling what we're doing is that.

hence, the growing gap between us.

when you're making choices as a mom, & you had good parents yourself,
it's only natural to go to them for their thoughts,
to talk situations through with them, & gather their
experience & wisdom as you weigh your options.

more & more, i feel like i can't do that with my parents.

likewise, it's only natural to want their thumbs-up,
their good-parenting seal of approval
on the choices you make as a mom, especially the hard ones,
to let you know they're behind you & believe in you as a good mom.

more & more, i feel like i won't get that from them.

what they don't understand is that their disapproval won't deter me
from doing what i know in my mama-heart is right for my children.
all it does is make me not want to share it with them.

& that makes me sad.

the last thing i want during their final years [dad's 80yo; mom's 79yo]
is for us to grow further apart, rather than closer together.

i've got a friend who wonders why i tell them about stuff
they're sure to react negatively to? just don't say anything, she advises.

but if i can't be who i am & my son can't be who he is
in order to keep the peace, as it were,
then that makes me sad, too. & inauthentic, which is
the exact opposite of what i want to model for my son.

& there's the aha moment, the lesson i'm learning from my sweet boy daily:

how to keep giving him unconditional love, acceptance & support
as i struggle with not getting the same from my parents
now that i've been brave enough to show them who i really am.

an open-hearted, open-minded, unapologetic yellow-dog-liberal feminist,
working to become my best self, to choose love over fear, to nurture connection,
who believes we are all children of god & should treat each other as such.

& who will do whatever's necessary to make sure my children have
whatever they need from me to realize their potential & fulfill their purpose,
as that is definitely part of mine.

period. no qualifications. end of story.



image source: me & big boy, ca. 2003.

bear-y cute update.

just a quick update on jewel, ely, minnesota's 3yo black bear
who gave birth to two cubs last january,
much to the delight of the thousands of web-watchers tuned in to her den cam,
via the north american bear center & the wildlife research institute.

mama bear jewel & cubs herbie & fern are all healthy &
spending early summer out & about [it's a balmy 70+F during the days].
the cubs are now 4.5mos, & rather a big ol' bear paw-ful.

from this video [dated 5.12.12], you can see climbing & hanging & swinging
seem to be among their favorite activities, apparently to their mother's weary chagrin.



you can see more videos of jewel's family & other bears being tracked by the wri|nabc
at the bearstudy youtube channel.
or read all about them at the wri's daily updates.


image source: herbie full-throttle, up a tree as usual.

mama bear jewel.

update on jewel, the ely, mn, black bear
with a den cam full of people of the interwebs
watching & waiting for her to give birth
[the pressure!!] . . .

jewel had two healthy, lively cubs
last sunday, 1.22.2012, around 7:30a.

the addition of newborns has made the den cam
much more interesting & made jewel's hopes of hibernation
much less likely to be realized —
tons of noise & activity pretty much around the clock.

you can read up on den happenings at the
wildlife research institute's daily updates,

you can watch a video of jewel
comforting her cacophonous cubs,

or you can go directly to the den cam for current cub status.

happy happy congratulations to first-time mama bear, jewel!


image source: wildlife research institute.

live pregnant bears.

today, i'm grateful not to be a pregnant black bear
up in -24F ely, minnesota,
with a den cam streaming live video of me
24/7 worldwide.

& i'm grateful to be able to watch live streaming video
of a black bear up in ely, minnesota,
as she prepares to give birth for the first time,
on my laptop in my climate-controlled home office here in austin, texas.

i mean, how amazing is that??

jewel is a 3yo black bear being tracked by
the north american bear center & the wildlife research institute.

the nabc is a nonprofit organization working to advance the long-term survival
of bears worldwide by replacing misconceptions with scientific facts.
it's also working to conserve bear habitat, stop bear poaching,
rehabilitate injured or orphaned bears back into the wild, &
find ways to reduce conflict between people & bears.

the wri is conducting the longest & most detailed black bear study
& the largest educational outreach program ever done for black bears.
its research is intended to improve the coexistence of people & bears
in an increasingly urbanized environment.

so these are good folks, trying to save great bears.

& they've got three different den cams working. totally awesome.
explore their websites, & if you want to follow jewel's journey, check this:
jewel's den cam.


image source: wildlife research institute daily updates.

a teen mom.

a teen mom . . .
that's me.

not a mom who's a teen,
but as of today, a mom of a teen.

yep. big girl turns "lucky" 13 today.

& i don't like it.

not because we're already experiencing
a taste of teenage angst/attitude/hormones,
& realizing we're facing several years
of the same — & no doubt worse — ahead of us.

not because her growing up
means i'm growing old ... er.
[see "cruel irony of moms & daughters
going through 'the change' simultaneously."]

but because she's 13.
thirteen.

how is this possible

when she was just awakening us via baby monitor
with the sweetest little babbling sing-songs,
live from the crib at the crack of dawn,
bright & shiny as a penny in the brand new day?

when she was just riding in the front of the basket
& wowing the cashier at target
by answering the question about her favorite dinosaur
with "a pawathauwapholuth [parasaurapholus]"?

when she was just pressing her preschooler ear
to my big belly, "listening" to her little brother?
"does it sound like the ocean?" i wondered.
"it sounds like a little bird," she chirped.

how is this possible
when i was just feeling her
roll around in my round belly
yesterday?

i'm unnerved by how this occasion unravels me.

from seemingly nowhere, i'm reminded of
kahlil gibran's words of wisdom on children:

your children are not your children.
they are the sons & daughters of life's longing for itself.
they come through you, but not from you,
& though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

& i realize that until just about now,
i thought that poem was philosophically lovely,
but not really true.

i mean, of course she came from me —
look at her eyes, look at my stretch marks!
of course she belongs to me —
see how she needs me, see how i take care of her!

of course she is my child.
who else's??

today, i get it.

she has begun to shed the skin of being my child,
& today, i'm beginning to feel it.

what i'm feeling today are the first twinges of her
coming through me
into her own self.

& just like our first labor together,
i work to breathe through the pain.
breathe through to the other side.

welcome to the world,
my amazing, beautiful, brilliant, miraculous

teen girl.


image source: her & me, 11.98.

little boy moments.

as my favorite happiness guru says,
the days are long, but the years are short.

as another schoolyear ends
[& while they seem endless while we're immersed in them,
i realize a day will come when i can't believe they're over],
i'm faced with the fact that we are,
as a family, done with the primary grades [k-2].

which are the best ones, don't you agree?

we were lucky/blessed to go out with a bang, though.
little boy's second-grade teacher was this
amazing force of creativity & inspiration & positivity
who gave us the priceless gift of possibly our
best. year. ever.
[& definitely our best. year. yet.]

we heart you forever, mrs. b.

so as i grieve the unmistakeable reality
that my little boy is shedding his "little" status
little by little [as it were],
i thought i might document & share
a few moments of pure him, here & now:

* * * * * * * * * * * * *
moment #1, 3.31.2011:

little boy's quote of the day, to our beagle-mix mutt:

"oh, kirby. don't lick your penis on daddy's birthday."


* * * * * * * * * * * * *
moment #2, 4.2011:

little boy's class had a photo wall
featuring each student wearing a silly springtime hat.
he was wearing a yellow & black striped cap
with wings off to the sides;
his friend lolly wore a headband of big pink petals.

"i like your springtime pictures," i commented.
without missing a beat, he replied enthusiastically,

"i was a bumblebee.
lolly was a flower & i pollinated her."


* * * * * * * * * * * * *
moment #3, 5.8.2011:

for mother's day,
one of the projects little boy created for me at school
was a "mom's gazette" worksheet for him to complete.
the headline read "world's best mom!", &
he drew the accompanying illustration,
filled in blanks in the story, &
checked all the "my mother is" boxes
he thought applied to me
[awesome, brave, brilliant, cheerful, considerate,
cool, craftsy, cuddly, cute, etc.].

he had checked all 21 boxes [awww!].

"wow, you checked all the boxes;
you really think i'm all of those things?" i asked.
"that's awfully sweet."
he answered flatly,

"yeah. the only one i wasn't sure i should check was 'energetic.'"

fair enough, bubby, fair enough.

here's to you, my little boy.
i hope you always fill our lives
with laughter & light & love
& one-liners & wop-wop moments.

i will always love you with my whole heart.
& then some.

& even when you are a big, tall, stunningly handsome man,
in my heart you will always be
my sweet, sunshiney, sensitive, hilarious, goofy
little boy.


image source: jb & lb, a perfect pairing.

mother's week, continued.

from parent:wise austin;
"listen to your mother" by kristin armstrong.

i am a mother.

i am a fixer, a feeder a driver, a healer, a mind reader, a comfort, an advocate, a tear wiper, a member of the hygiene, sunscreen & homework gestapo, a hair braider, a lunch packer, a bed maker, a time keeper, a promise keeper, a laundry slave, a calendar, a chef, a back tickler, a day saver, a dragon slayer, a puppy trainer, a delivery service, a hamster eulogist, a personal shopper, a crush confidante, a counselor, a manicurist, a cheerleader, a toilet flusher, a peacemaker, & the finder of all things lost.

i am the courageous recipient of mood swings, meltdowns, balled up reeking socks, soggy tissues and wet wads of gum. i can endure the evil eye and i-hate-yous without flinching [much]. i am a faithful comrade under heavy fire in the trenches of a stomach virus. i have resolutely composed my facial expression in response to gushing blood, passing gas in church, and the word penis. i have successfully performed the heimlich maneuver twice, saving my daguther from an unmelted popsicle chunk & our hamster from the throat of our swiss mountain dog. i have convinced a quaking child to leap into a body of chlorinated water with only the words, "trust me." i have taken on pain & heartbreak like a voodoo doll stuck unmercifully with pins. i am cold when my children refuse to wear a coat. i have listened when i felt like screaming, screamed when i should have listened, & given when i thought i had nothing left at all. i have been defined & refined by this gig called mom, having lost myself completely in seasons of mothering, only to find & resurrect myself over & over again.

so here's the thing. after all the years spent loving my little people, how on earth am i supposed to learn how to let them go?

my son, who used to hang on my every word, now makes grunting noises & maintains prolonged direct eye contact only with a screen. the smell of his shoes could serve as a military weapon of mass destruction. he used to spring forth from his bed in the mornings, smiling at the sound of my voice, meeting each new day with wonder & delight. now he groans & pulls the covers over his head, mumbling "jeezmomc'monfivemoreminutes" through a dense fog of morning breath, glaring at me with narrowed eyes & spite as if i were morning personified. the boy who used to love his bath now has to be told repeatedly to shower, & while showering, reminded of the benefits of soap & shampoo. he jumps & responds immediately to a new text message, yet i have to remind him twenty times to take out the trash. [perhpas i should try texting him to take out the trash?] he wears shorts every single day, at all costs & for every occasion, even when it's twenty degrees outside or the attire calls for a coat & tie. the constancy of my presence goes unnotices, yet the presumption exists that every procrastinated school project yields a joint deadline. he vacillates between needing me & pushing me away, & i alternate between holding him in the nest & wanting him to fly.

my twin daughters, two years younger than their big brother, are teetering & peering in the abyss of adolescence, the hint of future curves foreshadows the twisted road ahead. my wasband has maintained since our separation that when the girls hit puberty, our custody agreement is up for renegotiation – giving me only full week a month. likely by then i will have signs of early onset menopause & the judge will rule that in the best interest of everyone involved, the red tent shall be pitched on dad's lawn. this is probably best, beacuse even now, these two little princesses that i once nursed side by side like a tribal woman from national geographic have moods that can change as quickly as texas weather. one minute it's a perfectly lovely sunny day, & suddenly, faster than you can say "whatever," a cold wind blows through, lightning cracks across a blackened sky, & thunder rolls like teenage eyes. i am often to blame, even when i have no idea what caused the weather pattern to begin with. i no longer have personal items – my makeup has been ransacked & my closet pillaged. they chew my gum, leave the wrappers in my purse, pilfer cash from my wallet, & put on my lip gloss while they text & face time with their friends on my phone.

i realize that these changes are part of god's design – that my kids & i will drive each other sufficiently crazy so that when the time comes for them to go, i don't dissolve into a million pieces, or wrap their leg with my wailing body, or hide in the closet of their freshman dorm. i have been working on defining myself with words outside the realm of mother – i am a writer, i am an author, i am a runner, i am a friend. in my head, i know that my life exists beyond my children, but my heart knows what matters most. you see, i will never regret a maternal minute – sure, i'll regret my mishandling of some moments, but i will never regret having been present. i will never grieve money i didn't make, time or talent that i could have spent elsewhere, or the experience that got sidelined or sacrificed along the way. my mark is my motherhood; my legacy is love.

no matter what other definitions i cultivate, somehow when i meet someone new, or stand before a crowd of strangers to explain myself, i always seem to begin where i began.

my name is kristin. i am luke, grace & isabelle's mom.

mother's week.

i'm a writer [hope this isn't a surprise],
& as austin-based independent business & marketing writers go,
i feel i'm pretty good.

i've got a way with the words.

but i'm consistently & duly humbled by
the neverending river of amazing, inspiring writers
i regularly come across, either in print or online.

recently, i came across two pieces i just. must. share.
& since they're both about motherhood,
i thought i'd extend mother's day into mother's week,
posting one today & another one friday
especially for your mama-spends-two-minutes-reading-for-pleasure self.

this one is from [in]courage;
it's titled "on mothers" by holley gerth.

can i tell you a secret?

i am in awe of mothers.

the hand-holding, brow-wiping, life-changing women of the world.

i love how mothers create, bring life into the world, nourish souls, tie the shoelaces of the future.

i love how they wrestle about where to send kids to school, & what to get for christmas, & how to take the seed of a life & grow it into strong, tall faith.

i love the way they laugh about too much poop & mountains of laundry & the beautiful chaos that they somehow keep spinning in orbit.

i love how time etches memories across their faces, like little lines in an extraordinary story, & the way their eyes light up when someday someone calls them “grandma.”

i love how they throw their arm in front of you at a sudden stop in the car even if you’re not their child, even when their hair is silver, even when nursing & diapers feel like so many moons ago.

i love how even women without children {i’m one} somehow feel the need to nurture, to grow, to pour themselves into the next generation like so much water that just never stops. mothers of the heart if not the body.

i don’t know where you are this morning but i wish i could cup your face in my hands and whisper this: “you are a good mother. you are making a difference. you are beautiful.”

then i’d drop my hands and smile at you. & in a moment, you’d be busy again doing what you do & i’d watch the miracle.

the miracle of motherhood.

the ordinary-extraordinary.

the divine with a little dirt under its nails.

jill churchill said: “there’s no way to be a perfect mother & a million ways to be a good one.”

& with all of you mother-wonders out there?

i don’t think i’ll ever stop counting . . .


image source: this mother-wonder, of the newest addition to my maternal duties. introducing skipper inkspots.

a day ago.

i was adopted basically at birth.
i didn't know my birthmom until i was 25,
when she & my birthdad found me.

i had her in my life for only fifteen years.
she died abruptly three years ago
when she fell in her kitchen,
hitting her head on the tile floor.
she died of traumatic brain injury within three days.

she was extraordinary,
& not one day goes by i don't wish
that she were still here or
that i had made more of our time together.

i especially loved
her boundless generosity,
her amazing thoughtfulness
& her smokey laugh.

i used to be careful
to celebrate birthmother's day with her
[the saturday prior to mother's day sunday],
as actual mother's day belonged
to my real mom who brought me up.

i regret that now.

i regret it because
it is not a competition,
more family just means more love,
& both of these wonderful women
made huge sacrifices to help me become
who i am today.

so this mother's day,
along with honoring my real mom
with gifts & cards & calls,

i honored my birthmom
in my heart [& now, on this blog]
for everything she gave me.


love & miss you
yesterday, today & every day,
nana pat.


image source: big girl & nana pat, circa 2000, as photographed by me.

my son is gay, too. or he's not.

rosie o'donnell read the following blog post out loud
on her satellite radio show [rosie radio] today.

& as the mom of a little boy
who has mostly girl friends,
whose favorite toy story character is jessie the cowgirl,
& who draws big red lips on everything
from jack o'lanterns to snowmen,
er, snowpeople,

i felt on listening to this
both a little ashamed
& profoundly inspired.

this is the mom i want to be for him.

& i do fairly well.
but this has inspired me to
do better.
be braver. more open-hearted. even more accepting
of who he is & who will become.

it's an amazing piece from a blog called
nerdy apple bottom [cop's wife does not remain silent].

the post is titled "my son is gay."

Or he’s not. I don’t care. He is still my son. And he is 5. And I am his mother. And if you have a problem with anything mentioned above, I don’t want to know you.


I have gone back and forth on whether I wanted to post something more in-depth about my sweet boy and his choice of Halloween costume. Or more specifically, the reactions to it. I figure if I’m still irked by it a few days later, I may as well go ahead and post my thoughts.


Here are the facts that lead up to my rant:


My son is 5 and goes to a church preschool.
He has loved Scooby Doo since developing the ability and attention span to sit still long enough to watch it.
Halloween is a holiday and its main focus is wearing a costume.
My son’s school had the kids dress up, do a little parade, and then change out of costumes for the rest of the party.
Boo’s best friend is a little girl
Boo has an older sister
Boo spends most of his time with me.
I am a woman.
I am Boo’s mother, not you.
So a few weeks before Halloween, Boo decides he wants to be Daphne from Scooby Doo, along with his best friend E. He had dressed as Scooby a couple of years ago. I was hesitant to make the purchase, not because it was a cross gendered situation, but because 5 year olds have a tendency to change their minds. After requesting a couple of more times, I said sure and placed the order. He flipped out when it arrived. It was perfect.


Then as we got closer to the actual day, he stared to hem and haw about it. After some discussion it comes out that he is afraid people will laugh at him. I pointed out that some people will because it is a cute and clever costume. He insists their laughter would be of the ‘making fun’ kind. I blow it off. Seriously, who would make fun of a child in costume?


And then the big day arrives. We get dressed up. We drop Squirt at his preschool and head over to his. Boo doesn’t want to get out of the car. He’s afraid of what people will say and do to him. I convince him to go inside. He halts at the door. He’s visibly nervous. I chalk it up to him being a bit of a worrier in general. Seriously, WHO WOULD MAKE FUN OF A CHILD IN A COSTUME ON HALLOWEEN? So he walks in. And there were several friends of mine that knew what he was wearing that smiled and waved and gave him high-fives. We walk down the hall to where his classroom is.


And that’s where things went wrong. Two mothers went wide-eyed and made faces as if they smelled decomp. And I realize that my son is seeing the same thing I am. So I say, “Doesn’t he look great?” And Mom A says in disgust, “Did he ask to be that?!” I say that he sure did as Halloween is the time of year that you can be whatever it is that you want to be. They continue with their nosy, probing questions as to how that was an option and didn’t I try to talk him out of it. Mom B mostly just stood there in shock and dismay.


And then Mom C approaches. She had been in the main room, saw us walk in, and followed us down the hall to let me know her thoughts. And they were that I should never have ‘allowed’ this and thank God it wasn’t next year when he was in Kindergarten since I would have had to put my foot down and ‘forbidden’ it. To which I calmly replied that I would do no such thing and couldn’t imagine what she was talking about. She continued on and on about how mean children could be and how he would be ridiculed.


My response to that: The only people that seem to have a problem with it is their mothers.


Another mom pointed out that high schools often have Spirit Days where girls dress like boys and vice versa. I mentioned Powderpuff Games where football players dress like cheerleaders and vice versa. Or every frat boy ever in college (Mom A said that her husband was a frat boy and NEVER dressed like a woman.)


But here’s the point, it is none of your damn business.


If you think that me allowing my son to be a female character for Halloween is somehow going to ‘make’ him gay then you are an idiot. Firstly, what a ridiculous concept. Secondly, if my son is gay, OK. I will love him no less. Thirdly, I am not worried that your son will grow up to be an actual ninja so back off.


If my daughter had dressed as Batman, no one would have thought twice about it. No one.


But it also was heartbreaking to me that my sweet, kind-hearted five year old was right to be worried. He knew that there were people like A, B, and C. And he, at 5, was concerned about how they would perceive him and what would happen to him.


Just as it was heartbreaking to those parents that have lost their children recently due to bullying. IT IS NOT OK TO BULLY. Even if you wrap it up in a bow and call it ‘concern.’ Those women were trying to bully me. And my son. MY son.


It is obvious that I neither abuse nor neglect my children. They are not perfect, but they are learning how to navigate this big, and sometimes cruel, world. I hate that my son had to learn this lesson while standing in front of allegedly Christian women. I hate that those women thought those thoughts, and worse felt comfortable saying them out loud. I hate that ‘pink’ is still called a girl color and that my baby has to be so brave if he wants to be Daphne for Halloween.


And all I hope for my kids, and yours, and those of Moms ABC, are that they are happy. If a set of purple sparkly tights and a velvety dress is what makes my baby happy one night, then so be it. If he wants to carry a purse, or marry a man, or paint fingernails with his best girlfriend, then ok. My job as his mother is not to stifle that man that he will be, but to help him along his way. Mine is not to dictate what is ‘normal’ and what is not, but to help him become a good person.


I hope I am doing that.


And my little man worked that costume like no other. He rocked that wig, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.


in this month of thanks-giving,
i'm grateful for you, boo's mama.
you rocked your blog, & it might just
change some minds/hearts/lives.


image source: scoobysnax.free.fr

moms know best.

another inspirational video to pass along
via the amazing brene brown . . .

the best advice from moms for moms:


how about you? what wisdom would you give your about-to-be-a-mommy self?
are you following your own sage counsel as a mom today??

monday morning message from the universe.

tap, tap. the universe at my shoulder.

good morning, it says.

hope you enjoyed yesterday. mother's day. a holiday just for you.

because it's monday. holiday over.

time for you to hold your big girl's hair while she pukes.

just a little reminder what motherhood's really all about.

:]

happy mother's day.

i spent a great mother's day hanging out & running around with my two miraculous, crazy little blessings.

i hope you enjoyed the same.

but regardless of the quality of this particular mother's day for you,

regardless of whether your holiday was

deep-tissue massage or
deep trenches of motherhood

thoughtful, touching moments or
thoughtlessness & "MOMHE'STOUCHINGMYSTUFF" moments

fun-filled or
freakin' frustrating

regardless, here's the mother's day note you deserve,

yesterday, today & the other 363 days of the year.

because it's sooo not about one dang day per solar orbit.

here's to you, mom:

extra ordinary days, please.

i recently read a wonderful new york times article about the profundity of the everyday by katherine russell rich, a stage 4 cancer survivor of 17 years & counting.

"when i was told i had a year or two, i didn't want anything one might expect: no blowout trip to the galapagos, no perfect meal at alain ducasse, no defiant red maserati. all i wanted was ordinary life back, for ordinary life, it became utterly clear, is more valuable than anything else."

as we dive into mother's day weekend, my sister mamas, i wish you all the gift of many, many ordinary days, & the presence to revel in & be grateful for them.

got kleenex?? watch this [well worth the sniffles]:

jasmine the dog, wonder mum.

I simply can't resist passing along the touching story of Jasmine. Jasmine the greyhound was found seven years ago by the English police, abandoned, cold, filthy and malnourished.

Taken to the Nuneaton and Warwickshire Wildlife Sanctuary and nurtured to good health, she has since taken care of 15 rabbits, 15 chicks, 8 guinea pigs, 5 fox cubs, 4 badger cubs, 2 stray puppies and a tiny roe deer fawn.

"She simply dotes on the animals as if they were her own, it's incredible to see," says Geoff Grewcock, who runs the sanctuary. "She takes all the stress out of them, and it helps them to not only feel close to her, but also to settle into their new surroundings. As soon as an animal is brought in, she walks over, takes a sniff or two, and then licks and cuddles them. It is quite amazing."

You can read the whole story here. And thanks to my big sister for sending it along to me!! :)

image source: the daily mail

one of O's favorite things: empowering women.

I heart Oprah. No big surprise there.

Her famous "Favorite Things" lists are hit-or-miss for me. Some of the stuff she/her staff suggests is adorable and affordable, some not, some OMG sooo not.

Regardless, at the beginning of December － the start of stuff season － Ms. O dedicated her show to dramatically disenfranchised women worldwide. Women beaten for trying to go to school, girls sold into sex slavery, mothers dying as a product of pregnancy. Women for whom the term "women's rights" is just an imaginary figment, a cruel joke.

Naturally, Oprah also profiled people who are helping. Secretary of State Hilary Clinton pledging women's rights will be one of her signature issues and a higher-than-ever American diplomacy priority. Husband-wife Pulitzer Prize winners Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn talking about their new book, Half the Sky: Turning Oppression in to Opportunity for Women Worldwide, and the movement it has created.

So here's the bottom line: It's the season of giving. Please give to empower women and girls globally.

Here's how:

• Buy the above-mentioned book. It's "a passionate call to arms, from two of our most fiercely moral voices, against our era’s most pervasive human rights violation."

• Give to Helen Keller International, which iodizes salt so that babies born to impoverished women get enough of the brain-developing element.

• Give to American Assistance for Cambodia, which helps keep girls stay in school and out of brothels.

• Give to Mercy Corps, which facilitates microloans to poor women to launch their own businesses, support their families and boost their economies.

• Read through these fascinating facts about girls in developing countries, then check out the Girl Effect Facebook page and become a fan.

Still iffy? Consider this: While American women earn 80 cents on the male dollar [unfair, for sure], more girls in developing countries have been killed in the last fifty years－ just because they were girls － than men were killed in all the wars of the 20th century.

Help a girl stay above-ground today. Give to empower women.

ten tips for lifelong connection.

A list to print and tuck into your wallet from the Slow Family Living blog. Co-blogger Bernadette Noll outlines the big life lesson she learned from her mom － how to make pausing and connecting more than a great idea, how to take it beyond the theoretical:

It is possible, if we put the pieces in place now: the rituals, the practices, the conversations, the pauses, the all-important SEEING of each other － it is possible to build a sustainable connection. Quite possible indeed.

Here are a few of the very tangible things [my 84-year-old mom] did and continues to do in the name of connection:

1. Write letters, send postcards every chance you get. Keep stamps in your wallet so that whenever you think of someone, you can jot them a quick note.

2. Talk it through.

3. Say sorry. Even when you’re not really sure what you’re sorry for. Be sorry there was strife. In the name of peace and love.

4. Forgive. And forget. And move on.

5. Give people a second chance. More if they’re family. And if they’re your children, give them endless chances.

6. Ask people questions about themselves. Your family and friends, and also people you meet on the street. Whether you’re at the grocery counter or the bank or the gas station, talk to people about their life.

7. Listen to the answers.

8. Make the connection when you think of making the connection. When you think of calling someone, call them right then.

9. Have extra beds for guests. Or cots. Or sleeping bags. And lots and lots of blankets.

10. If you have to choose between order and quiet or mess and noise, go for the mess and noise. It might make you a little crazy, but there’s plenty of time for order and quiet when you get old.

salut sotomayor!!

Just in case you've been buried under sand or otherwise piled up on (as I have been for about a month), let us now seize the moment to celebrate Sonia Sotomayor, who has been officially sworn in as the first Hispanic Supreme Court justice ever and just the third woman in the court's 220-year history.

Sotomayor took her public oath of office last Saturday from Chief Justice John Roberts, with her left hand resting upon a Bible held by her mother, Celina, and Sonia's only sibling, her brother Juan, standing beside her as a witness.

The Senate vote almost a week ago to confirm Sotomayor as the court's 111th justice was 68-31. America's longest-serving senator, 91-year-old Robert Byrd (D-WV), despite his tenuous condition following a lengthy hospitalization, was brought in in a wheelchair to vote for Sotomayor. The only senator absent from the floor was Edward Kennedy (D-MA), who is currently suffering from brain cancer.

President Obama applauded the Senate's favorable vote on his first Supreme Court nominee as "breaking another barrier and moving us yet another step closer to a more perfect union."

Today, at a White House celebration held in her honor, Sotomayor echoed the President's sentiments, saying, "It is our nation's faith in a more perfect union that allows a Puerto Rican girl from the Bronx to stand here now. I am struck again today by the wonder of my own life and the life we in America are so privileged to lead."

The court is scheduled to hear arguments September 9th in a campaign finance case. The whole court will convene the day prior for a formal welcoming ceremony for Sotomayor.

latina law.

Well, he may not be perfect, but he's plenty for me — President Barack Obama yesterday nominated Sonia Sotomayor to the U.S. Supreme Court, choosing a woman born of immigrant parents and raised in a public housing project to become America's first Hispanic justice and third woman justice ever.

Sotomayor, 54, if confirmed by the U.S. Senate, will succeed retiring Justice David Souter, a consistently liberal member of the nation's highest court.

Here are some highlights of Judge Sotomayor's life up until now:

1. She was born and raised in the Bronx borough of New York City, close enough to Yankee Stadium to turn her into a lifelong fan. Her parents were Puerto Rican immigrants — her father, a factory worker with a third-grade education who spoke no English, and her mother, a nurse.

2. Sonia was diagnosed with Type I diabetes at the age of eight. The following year, her father died unexpectedly at the age of 42. Sonia turned to books for solace, and says her love of girl detective Nancy Drew ultimately led her into law.

4. Sonia's mother, Celina, worked tirelessly to support her children as a single mother, and strongly emphasized education, spending her hard-earned money on the only set of encyclopedias in their neighborhood.

3. Sonia graduated as valedictorian of her class at the Roman Catholic school Blessed Sacrament and at the parochial Cardinal Spellman High School. She earned a scholarship to and her A.B. from Princeton University, graduating summa cum laude, then moved on to earned her J.D. at Yale Law School, where she was an editor of the Yale Law Journal.

4. Sotomayor served as an Assistant District Attorney for New York County for five years, prosecuting robbery, police brutality, murder, child pornography and assault cases. She then practiced corporate law for seven years with the private firm Pavia & Harcourt, where she specialized in intellectual property litigation.

5. President George H. W. Bush nominated Sotomayor to the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York in 1991; she was confirmed in 1992. In 1995, she saved America's favorite pastime by ending a long baseball strike with a ruling against the owners in favor of the players.

6. In 1997, President Bill Clinton nominated Sotomayor to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit; she was confirmed in 1998, becoming the first Latina to serve in one of the most demanding circuits nationwide. She has since participated in over 3,000 panel decisions and authored about 400 opinions.

7. Sotomayor has a younger brother, Juan, who is now a Syracuse doctor. She was married once, to Kevin Edward Noonan; they divorced after seven years and had no children.

8. During her remarks in reaction to her Supreme-Court nomination, Sotomayor cited "one extraordinary person who is my life aspiration" — her mother, Celina [mother & daughter are pictured above]. Said Sonia, "My mother has devoted her life to my brother and me ... I have often said that I am all I am because of her. And I am only half the woman she is."

Salut y buena suerte, Juez Sotomayor!!