Esposo: My grandmother said the babies are going to be very pretty women when they grow up.
Wifey: Really? How nice....
Esposo: Yeah, because she says they have my color.
Wifey: ...oh.
Worst fears spoken aloud
I read a blog today that scared me out of my wits. And it didn’t help that it followed on the heels of a dream i had last night where i lost Dixie. One minute she was there, then i turned my back for a moment and she was gone, stroller and all. And to make matter worse, no one around me seemed to know what i was talking about when i asked them if they’d seen anyone taking my stroller.
The cold statitics of just how many children of color go missing without so much as a blurb in local papers really taps into that fear I have of not being able to keep my kids safe from the world. And i guess parents only have so much control over the dangers in the world, but it scares me very badly and very deeply when i imagine that there are may be things i simply cannot keep them safe from. And that if something horrible were to happen, I wouldn’t be able to count on the community to ring the alarm to help me find them.
Now not to worry: I’m not going to go off the deep end like the mom in the movie Loverboy. But I can’t help but wonder…if the only things keeping my girls safe is my flesh and bones and the grace of God, what do i do if that proves not good enough?
The cold statitics of just how many children of color go missing without so much as a blurb in local papers really taps into that fear I have of not being able to keep my kids safe from the world. And i guess parents only have so much control over the dangers in the world, but it scares me very badly and very deeply when i imagine that there are may be things i simply cannot keep them safe from. And that if something horrible were to happen, I wouldn’t be able to count on the community to ring the alarm to help me find them.
Now not to worry: I’m not going to go off the deep end like the mom in the movie Loverboy. But I can’t help but wonder…if the only things keeping my girls safe is my flesh and bones and the grace of God, what do i do if that proves not good enough?
So, some things have changed.
I started this blog to help relieve some of the pressure and anxiety i felt as a new single mom of multiples. But then i went to got married….so now I’m gonna write about the pressure and anxiety i feel as a newlywed and new mom of multiples.
It’s guranteed to be good times, yo!
It’s guranteed to be good times, yo!
A moment to consider Privilege
I went shopping this weekend to try to find shoes for Trixie and Dixie.
Okay, bad parent confession number 491: my kids are pulling up to a stand and trying to take little puny steps and i haven’t bothered to buy them shoes. But i’m trying to change my evil ways.
My broke ass was in a store i had no business in trying to buy baby shoes when a woman wheeled past with her abundantly stocked shopping cart. She looked down at Trix and Dix and said “they are soooo precious! a boy and a girl?”
Okay, aside: both of my girls have their ears obviously pierced. so unless i am paying an especially bizarre homage to Adam Ant, why would one of my kids be a boy???
I told her that i, in fact, have two girls and she replied “oooff! you have a lot of wedding dresses to buy.”
It occurred to me that it must be really nice to automatically assume that 1) your daughters will marry and 2) you’ll be able to afford to purchase their dresses.
Of all the people i know who have married or come damnclosetoit, only ONE has had the fortune of having her parents pay for her wedding completely. In my world, the notion of having a parent pay for your wedding dress is as wonderful a wish as 99 cent gas and a 100 calorie slice of red velvet cake.
In that brief moment of interaction, i saw clearly the line of privilege that separated us from one another.
And then i looked over at a pair of baby shoes with the price tag $28.00 and realized i was behind enemy lines FOR REAL!!!
Okay, bad parent confession number 491: my kids are pulling up to a stand and trying to take little puny steps and i haven’t bothered to buy them shoes. But i’m trying to change my evil ways.
My broke ass was in a store i had no business in trying to buy baby shoes when a woman wheeled past with her abundantly stocked shopping cart. She looked down at Trix and Dix and said “they are soooo precious! a boy and a girl?”
Okay, aside: both of my girls have their ears obviously pierced. so unless i am paying an especially bizarre homage to Adam Ant, why would one of my kids be a boy???
I told her that i, in fact, have two girls and she replied “oooff! you have a lot of wedding dresses to buy.”
It occurred to me that it must be really nice to automatically assume that 1) your daughters will marry and 2) you’ll be able to afford to purchase their dresses.
Of all the people i know who have married or come damnclosetoit, only ONE has had the fortune of having her parents pay for her wedding completely. In my world, the notion of having a parent pay for your wedding dress is as wonderful a wish as 99 cent gas and a 100 calorie slice of red velvet cake.
In that brief moment of interaction, i saw clearly the line of privilege that separated us from one another.
And then i looked over at a pair of baby shoes with the price tag $28.00 and realized i was behind enemy lines FOR REAL!!!
A balm to make the wounded whole.
There’s this old time church song that goes “There is a balm in Gilead, to make the wounded whole, there is a balm in Gilead, to heal the sinsick soul.”
I have had a pretty rough past month. Between work stress and lightweight drama with my friends and loved ones, it’s almost enough to make a woman get that deer rifle, take that sniper position, and work some issues out.
But something happened just a moment ago that made it all better: Trixie gave me a kiss.
Okay, granted it was a sloppy kiss and involved her putting her open mouth against my jaw and licking it a bunch of times, but whatever: that’s pretty much how a few of my dates have ended.
It was the most extra specialistic, fantastical, grooviest piece of awesomedom i’ve experienced!!
So it turns out there really IS a balm that makes the wounded whole: it’s baby slobber.
Deal with it.
I have had a pretty rough past month. Between work stress and lightweight drama with my friends and loved ones, it’s almost enough to make a woman get that deer rifle, take that sniper position, and work some issues out.
But something happened just a moment ago that made it all better: Trixie gave me a kiss.
Okay, granted it was a sloppy kiss and involved her putting her open mouth against my jaw and licking it a bunch of times, but whatever: that’s pretty much how a few of my dates have ended.
It was the most extra specialistic, fantastical, grooviest piece of awesomedom i’ve experienced!!
So it turns out there really IS a balm that makes the wounded whole: it’s baby slobber.
Deal with it.
