I Share My Grief

I share my grief in private places.
Blanket pressed hard to my face
in the dark, in the bathroom, door
closed behind me bent over the sink.

I share my grief in private places.
Smoothing it with lotion onto the
skin of my belly, deceptive and
swollen, yet emptied.
Bereaved in its own special way
echoing the pain that throbs beneath
the surface of every blood-run vein,
every artery connecting all the parts
of my useless body.

I share my grief in private places.
In my thoughts. In my feelings.
In the moments between when
they look at me, in the moments
their backs are turned.
I share my grief in my solitude.

I share my grief in the patches of
Light and in the patches of Dark, that
mark the timeline of my life today.

I share my grief.

 

 

 

copyright 2007 mds. All Rights Reserved.

Six A.M.

when i want to

hold my baby

in my empty arms

 

i reach across

i stroke the hair of

the ones before my eyes

my fist unfolds

it dulls this ache

left by tiny

footprints

 

copyright of poem and photo both: mds 2007. All rights reserved.

What do you do when your child comes home proud of a racist joke?

I usually only have this conversation once with my children.

One was just parroting his grandparents. He was only 5 and didn’t know any better and I corrected it. Then he grew up into his own self-hood and thankfully, racism and non-love is not a part of who he wants to be. He is naturally a very loving person, they all are, Blessed Be for that.

Another heard a joke from friends – a horrific Nazi Death Camp joke. Oh my god. I better never hear that out of his mouth EVER again. And he knows it. I will be taking that one step further thought and letting the Board of Ed know that that’s what these kids are talking about and making light of. Because they will then address that on a school-wide scale and take care of that end. We have a great county school system! I will probably get off my lazy ass and find him some good movies and documentaries to watch that will educate him about the REALITIES of the death camps and the Jews’ experiences. I haven’t done that yet but need to.

The littlest hasn’t said anything yet, other than referring to referring to African Americans as “a black kid” – which I”m not sure is offensive but it’s enough on the line that I explained to him that they might appreciate being described just as dark skinned or darker skinned rather than “black.” Same thing with the word “fat.” With him, it’s more a case of just explaining the social niceties that he is too little to be aware of yet.

I thought I was the only one that had had to address this issue
until I saw this article this month.
A worthy read:

Parenting the Resistance: 5 Ways to Have Hard Conversations with Kids
BY ERIN WATHEN

It went down like this:

“Mommy, I have a joke for you, listen. How long is a Chinese man?”

[with a raised eyebrow and a bit of trepidation] “I don’t know… how long?”

“No, that’s the joke… HOW LONG is a Chinese man. Get it?”

“Um… that’s a little bit racist. And inappropriate. Don’t repeat it, ok?”

“How is that racist?”

“Well… It’s making fun of how a certain kind of name sounds. It’s called a microaggression. It’s really making fun of all people who are from Asia, whose names sound a certain way. Like [brother’s best friend who is at our house all the time]. You see why that’s not cool, right? To make fun of people for not looking or sounding like us? Some people will make fun of ANYthing that is not American, or not like white people. We don’t do that.”

“Okay.”

“Where did you hear that joke anyway?”

“[Name of Trusted Adult in her life.]”

“Well, [Trusted Adult] should know better. Let’s say something next time, if they tell jokes like that again.”

Shit. This is hard, y’all. Do you find yourself having conversations like this on a regular basis? I don’t know if just the age my kids happen to be; or the current cultural/political climate; or the fact that, once you start to take notice, you realize that kids hear and repeat stuff like this constantly. In any case, this real-time, passing conversation at my house last night is a good example of how we can engage issues of racism, in the moment; and begin to systematically de-program our kids’ white privilege with some measure of intention.. . .

Read more at Parenting the Resistance, by Erin Wathen

New for the Yule post: The Miser Brothers!

The Grinch (the real one!)

Children’s Bedtime Story from Cory:

Frosty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And Santa Claus is Coming to Town!

AND Rudolph!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And…. Twas the night before Christmas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Heat and Snow Misers coming as soon as I watch them again :  )

And Little Drummer Boy

And Happy New Year

Can we guess what era I grew up in?

 

 

Boyhood

“Boyhood, like measles, is one of those complaints which a man should catch young and have done with, for when it comes in middle life it is apt to be serious.”

-P.G. Wodehouse, “The Adventures of Sally”
copyright 2017 Andrews McMeel Syndication

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This quote is from a fictional work, written humorously; not seriously intended but having three living boys of my own, it still makes me want to defend boys and boyhood. Male-hood. God help me, yes, I’m going to defend it.

Boys have a “different” energy.

They lead from their heart and instinct, even though society would have us believe they do not, claiming they’re mostly logic and don’t understand feelings like female humans do.

But Dario Nardi reminds us that

“There are over eighty known hormones.
Almost all affect personality.
At least seven vary greatly with gender .”

When it comes to testosterone – “men produce ten times more testosterone than women, so even low testosterone men have more than any woman.” 

Psychologically,
testosterone promotes:
aggression,
risk-taking,
anxiety
or energy
that may lead to
poor concentration,
assertiveness,
and
a natural self-confidence.

All these things create a more instinct driven being, less hampered by forethought sometimes then its female counterpart.

This makes for many misunderstood differences between the biological sexes, which gets “boyhood” unfairly characterized as too loud, too aggressive, too everything, when they’re not “wrong” or “bad” so much as being what they are biologically engineered to be.

It gets boyhood unfairly characterized as a “misfit toy” in our society and educational system instead of celebrated for all the amazing gifts it brings to the table before adulthood and society dampen it into a flickering shadow of its former self instead of a the shining beam of energetic creativeness it can be.

I find it interesting that in a patriarchal society, male hood is denigrated. It’s denied that it possesses many of the same positive traits that women possess – such as creativity (which in boys is more frequently viewed as “mess making”, plus all the awesome traits that are unique to testosterone filled boys who are, at the beginning of their life journey, absolutely filled and brimming over with a joy of living life to its fullest!

Many boys are boisterous and ever moving rather than sitting still and listening, following. They were born to forge ahead into the world, and they have their own larger than life style of doing things.  

So you must prepare to buy new reading glasses when they love you.

Because they actually break things with their spontaneous bear hugs around the head or where ever they can reach you at the time. Which I don’t dare complain about – I know how lucky I am to be the recipient of such ferocity. It’s just a bit shocking when it happens, is all.

*HUG!*

*CRACK!*

1206170628
And there you are. Broken glasses.

See those crumbs there on my pretty Tinkerbell dresser?  Littlest one knew the vacuum was out of commission so thought he’d crumble a stale hot dog roll. On my dresser. In MY bedroom. For Fun. And no where else would do.

So if you’re not prepared – going into BoyWorld can take you by surprise. Even when you ARE prepared it takes you by surprise sometimes!

Boys are walking into the bathroom to find the sink, floors, walls splattered with mud like a brown murder crime spree scene, after it was just so nice the minute! before!! Literally – 60 seconds before!!! That other moment in time when you left it, thinking it was safe.

The reason?

Something or other to do with Worm’s house. Worm needed water or his house need cleaning or some such thing? Couldn’t be done outside for some unknown reason. My house didn’t matter. But Worm’s house? PRIORITY!!!!! 

Another boy loved his worms when he was smaller too and has come inside after playing with so much dirt on him that it was actually UP HIS NOSE and IN HIS EARS.

Two days after the reading glasses snapped, the worm house cleaner jostled my arm while I was putting my contacts in. One contact lens didn’t make it. Boys are not  needing reading glasses anymore because you can see up close just fine with no contacts at all in your eyes.

Boys are having to do more dishes than what you started with, after they have “helped” you do dishes. But!!! boys are also finding out that baby oil will clean that stock pot you scorched so bad you thought it was going to have to be thrown out!

The Worm House Cleaner figured that one out, with one of his science experiments.

That he conducts.

While Not Doing the Dishes.

 

Boys are making mornings hilarious tottering around in your work pumps saying “Mommy how do you WEAR these?????”

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Or jumping up and down on your bed in one of your slips singing “I”m a little princess, I’m a little princess!” And by 8 pm at night – they are STILL jumping up and down on the bed, full of energy!

Boys are all “I’m cooking cheese, Mommy!”

Mommy: (OH CRAP!!! GETTING UP FAST!!!!) “WHERE are you cooking cheese, honey?”

Boy: “In the fire.” *so pleased and proud*

Mommy: FAST WALKS TO SEE BECAUSE SHE KNOWS HOW THIS GOES.

Boy: “See? I smashed the cheese on the grate (OF THE GAS FLAME HEATER) and it’s cooking!”

Boys come in from outside and inform you that “I need something sharper than this, but still safe.”

Boys casually inform you when they are 19 or 20 years old, that they used to speed around on top of car roofs with their friends.

For FUN. 

Okay, so maybe we don’t want to see middle aged men acting like boys.

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Saw 2017

Saw
or
A Study in Verticals

(whichever sounds more impressive)

Saw 2017 final

 

“I’m cutting tree branches off to build my log cabin” he says matter-of-factly.

“With my saw.”

I was alarmed, a bit.

Especially when he kept referring to his “saw” that Daddy gave him,
or that he found in the garage, I can’t even remember how it went now.

Until I saw what he was talking about.

(Not the one in the back.)

 

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