Morning Mantra

Hey Folks! It's recently occurred to me that the majority of writing I have been doing as of late has been within the ole cranium and well, you just can't enjoy it there! So here's a little background on the morning mantra I began reciting to myself:

I quit dating about oh... ho-hum... four years ago as a general rule. I'd recently gotten my shit back together and I felt the need to focus my energies on myself and Booboo. I tried to "hang out" with a few people in that time, but as I think I've said before- my picker's broke, so they were never really up to par any way. (But should any one be reading this- it wasn't you it's me... you're nice and handsome and going to make someone else very happy... yadda yadda yadda ;) ) I realized about mid-October that the possibilities of myself becoming completely jaded are increasing approximately ten fold per year. I have a legit fear that I'll become one of those thirty year old a-sexual women that reverts to listening to the lesbian man-hating phases of all female rockers, because they ALL have "that" album they released usually right before they met the man of their dreams, decided men don't suck after all and started making babies and families... Except the Indigo Girls... and Melissa Ethridge... and Joni Mitchell.

BESIDES, didn't I sort of go through that phase back in '06 when I smelt like patchouli, listened to a lot of Ani DiFranco's album Little Plastic Castles and didn't shave my legs? Oh lord, lets not go there again! (Still <3 Ani! lol)

Anyway, I don't want to be that girl (again/ever)! In order to prevent any further jading on my part, I began reciting a new morning mantra to myself in the mirror each morning: I'm smart, I smell great, and someone somewhere thinks I'm a MILF! 

That's right, you heard it here first! SOMEONE SOMEWHERE thinks I'm a MILF, and I know it. I embrace it. You should embrace it too, if you have come to that point in your life where you have children. I feel like I should give you the FYI other mothers:

SOMEONE SOMEWHERE thinks YOU are a MILF! 

It may be your husband, your boyfriend, or that (completely not creepy) guy that watches you haul the kid shit out of your trunk in your sweat pants and falling pony-tail and thinks to himself, "Oh yeah, even in those sweat pants..."

So take that and run with it! No one can rob you of your MILF-ness, you have that s**t on lock-down ladies!


 

A Poem for Booboo

I've brushed your hair and tied your bows
and wiped your butt and picked your nose
and tied your shoes and counted toes
to make sure you have all of those.

I've kissed your cheeks and dried your tears
and calmed your cries and quieted fears
and when your bad I smack your rear
and when you don't listen I tweak your ear.

I grew you right inside of me,
I knew it was meant to be.
I love you and you love me,
and together we're a family.

(that's so corny it made me giggle)

Here's one I wrote that was inspired by Booboo and published in my university's literary magazine circa 2009.

A Cardinal in the Driveway

Death caught her eye at
The very first glance:
The bright red cardinal Frannie
Killed and left as a bloody
Gift to her owner. She asks
Why the cat killed the
Cardinal and all I
Think to tell her is
Cats eat birds.

She looks at me amazingly
Knowingly, unnervingly unafraid.
Lily is four; captivated by cardinal
Death. I'll die!
She whispers, smiles sweetly.

She's seen death before
And told someone at the
Funeral my aunt died because her
Butt quit working. That's not exactly right
I say, but nothing else, nothing.
How can I teach her somethig I don't know.

Role Reversal

As Booboo and I were sitting in the car waiting for the bus the other morning I had her help me clean all the garbage out of the car. I picked up a roudn cardboard canister out of the backseat and asked Booboo what it was. "It's mine Mom. Don't open it, ok?" 'Well what is it?" I asked. "What's inside?" "Don't worry about it Mom, just don't open it."
She crawled into the back seat and continued to clean out the car.
"What is inside this thing?" I asked, my curiosity peeking.
"Don't open it Mom, it's mine." said Booboo.
I couldn't help it, I wanted to know what was inside. While she wasn't looking I pulled and pulled and finally got the little canister open. Baby powder exploded out all over my face and clothes just as Booboo peeked back over the front seat.
"You just had to open it, didn't you Mom? I told you not to!" she said.
"Well you wouldn't tell me what was inside!" I exclaimed in self defence.
"It shouldn't matter." said Booboo, "it's mine and I asked you not to open it... Hey Mom?"
"What?" I asked as I tried shaking the powder off my t-shirt.
"Next time use your listening ears, not your hearing ears." she said with a smirk.
"Noted." I said with a laugh. She totally got me.

Booboo's Spring Break

She had a far better spring break than I! Mine consisted of a few interjections of fun, work, work, finishing a school project, and work.
Together we...
Went to the park to play, make friends, scooter, and walk the dog

 And we went to the river to take a hike and let Booboo to swim in the (too cold) water. 

Then Sister, my friend Lacy Drawers, and some other friends took Booboo fishin' at the slough

AND FINALLY...

Booboo's spring break culminated in a trip to the beach with the rest of the family to enjoy some fun in the sun and attend my counsins wedding!



She had a great time on spring break! I'm so very thankful that we had a few good days to hang out and that she was able to make the most of her spring break, she deserves it!

Thanks Mom, Sister, Aunt J., and Speedy for making her beach trip awesome!
Thanks Lacy Drawers and Sister (again) for the fishing expedition, she loved it!
AND thanks Becks for taking all the photos at the park and the river :)

Bait and Switch

It doesn't take much to fool a baby.

Well, let me rephrase that, it doesn't take much for me to fool my twin sister's baby.

My twin sister, who I affectionately call Speedy because she moves at the speed of (insert something slow moving here i.e., a sloth, a snail, that reimbursement check I'm waiting for from my tax return, etc.), had a little girl last May. I don't get to see her often because they live in south Mississippi. Over the previous Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays we were fortunate to have their family up to visit. Speedy has raised what is commonly referred to as a "titty baby," a child who clings to it's mother, who wouldn't let anyone else in the family hold her for more than a few minutes without bursting into little baby tears and letting out a cry that would rival a banshee.

Personally, I'm not much of a baby holder. I never have been really. I held Booboo when she was a baby, of course, but as for other people's babies I'm just not that enthralled. I get a little been-there-done-that-don't-aim-to-do-it-again feeling and I become entirely disenchanted. That is, or rather was, until my niece came along.

When we have the same haircut Speedy and I look pretty much identical. Over the aforementioned holidays we did not have the same haircut or look as identical as we are until the day I was too lazy (read hungover) to fix my bangs. I tied my hair up in a knot and I pinned my bangs back with bobby pins then walked into the living room where my older sister and my aunt were trying to placate that fussy little baby.

Then she saw me.

Her eyes lit up, her little mouth un-puckered, she reached her chubby little arms into the air and let out a happy little, "ooooh!"

"Oh look!" my aunt exclaimed, "she thinks you're her mommie!" I walked over and picked up my niece. She just smiled her little baby smile and gurgled her little baby gurgles. I looked at my aunt and my older sister,"I win!" I said with a laugh as I carried my niece to the other couch and sat down.

We continued this charade for the next few days. Every time Speedy needed a moment without her sweet baby, all I had to do was pin back my bangs and be her for half an hour. Easy enough.

My mother reminded us of the book we read as children called Mrs. Nelson is Missing!, and how when we were real bad when we were kids my mother, Phyllis, would go get her "twin sister", Dyllis, to handle some disciplinary action. Guess our clan likes to fake kids out!  


My Sister and her daughter. We have the same haircut again :)