Just Me and the Boys

After Sunday lunch, JT, Spence and I set off for some afternoon fun. I had the keys to Dad's car and a lot of free time. This was all eerily reminiscent of my high school days....though Dad would have never given me the car keys to hang out with two boys (poor Dad had no idea that hanging with the girls was what I really wanted to do....but I digress).

I decided to show the boys some of the houses that Aunty Kristin and I lived in when we were little girls. So we turned up the rock & roll and set off on our mini-adventure to see where we lived when I was in elementary school.

The boys are tickled by the idea that their moms were once little kids who walked to the bus stop and attended kindergarten and 4th grade. And I was amazed at how much smaller those neighborhoods seem now.

Good Housekeeping Mama Style

My mom has had a subscription to Good Housekeeping magazine as long as I can remember. And since I was a total misfit child, I've been reading it nearly that long. So basically from the 4th grade onward I was reading articles with titles like, "My Problem Enjoying Sex with My Husband and How I Solved It," "Keeping Your Bathroom Clean Enough to Eat Off the Floor," or "100 Ways to Cook Chicken." I know that my mom knew I was reading the magazine but she never stopped me and so throughout my childhood and adolescence, it provided an education (of sorts). Once I moved out, I would read the back issues when I came home to visit the folks. By then, I was mostly bemused by the magazine.

Of course, thanks to years of reading Good Housekeeping, I would have been perfectly trained to be a successful suburban mom. I could have been the happy wife of some lucky man whose wife knew how to cook chicken, enjoy sex, and scrub the bathroom with equal ferocity and skill devoted to all tasks.

Alas, I took those feminist philosophy classes in college, engaged in a bit of self-exploration and realized that heterosexual wifehood was not exactly for me. So here I am a single mom and gay girl with an unusual skill set......and since I'm here in California visiting mom and dad, I have been exploring the back issues of Good Housekeeping.

Now it makes me laugh, because the magazine is so far out of the circumference of my life these days. But some of the recipes for the grill look good and I did get some handy tips for cleaning my wood floors, so I guess my time hasn't been entirely wasted.

Perhaps one day I will start writing a Good Housekeeping for Lesbians.......with article titles like "Keeping Your Flannel Shirts Like New" and "How to End Your Addiction to Dyke Drama." It ought to attract a huge following.

A Different Flotation Device

I am discovering that just like riding a bike, swimming feels as good and freeing as it did when I was a kid. Something about jumping in the water and gliding through the pool makes me feel like I am 10 again, with the world at my toes. The cool, wet water flows smoothly around me and I just feel like I can do anything.

But just in case I forget who I am there is my son, swimming alongside me and announcing that my breasts look like a handy flotation device.

Thanks kid.

Oh Cabana Girl

We played in Aunty Kristin's pool this morning and then when the boys claimed they were starving, Aunty K said she would handle lunch duty. The kids trooped inside for a feeding. Grandma and I got back into the now quiet pool, laid under the umbrella in the chairs and started to read our books. Ahhhh, the luxury.

10 minutes later, KO was back outside, taking our lunch order. Excellent. And then she delivered tasty BLT sandwiches (with fresh-picked tomatoes and the bread toasted just right) and icy cold water right to the pool. We sat in the pool and ate and read (a perfect storm for a McMillen woman).

Thanks to Aunty KO, I think that I am getting the hang of this whole vacation thing.

Pop! Went the Tire

Wednesday afternoon, we were headed to Philly on I-95 when I heard a loud pop (and you just know that is bad news)....within seconds I felt the car pull to the right. My rear passenger tire had gone flat. I pulled to the side of the interstate and went into independent mama mode and called Triple A. It was 3:01, still plenty of time to make our 6:25 flight. With Triple A promising to rescue me, I called my friend A and then my friend T, just in case back-up was required.

Good thing I did that because an hour later, Triple A still hadn't found me and had told me to call 9-1-1.....because if the trooper could find me, then Triple A would follow. Let me just say right now, that I was on I-95, in a silver SUV, on the side of the road and in full view of God and everyone. It wasn't exactly back-country.

I saw the trooper at the same time that a very nice man in a Suburban hopped out and strode to my car wearing Army fatigues and obviously ready to rescue me. Army dude and the PA trooper agreed that the trooper would change my tire. And then A and M pulled up with a plan. M would wait with the trooper while he changed the tire. JT and I would get in the car with A, who would take us to the airport, in plenty of time for our flight. And T, who can drive a stick shift, would bat clean-up, picking up M and driving may car back to A & M's house. These women had a plan and they weren't afraid to use it. That was good because by then I just wanted to be told what to do.

A got us to the airport in plenty of time and from the gate I called to thank my rescue angels. A and M were as gracious as always. T informed me that it was no big deal, and in fact, she already had my car at Goodyear to repair the tire.

Honestly, I was speechless. This summer has been my summer to need help from my friends and time after time they have delivered, with grace, good humor, and terrific kindness. This time, they saved the vacation.

And I didn't even cry!

California Bound

No doubt my father will wonder why I need so much luggage.......hopefully, he will understand that one of these bags was needed for the transport of JT's toys. We've got plenty of pirates and Power Rangers and we are ready to rumble.

We're off to the Golden State today, excited to see grandma, grandpa, Aunty K and Uncle M and, of course, Cole and Spencer. JT plans days of playing and swimming. Mama plans to hang out and just be and to keep feeling better about our new life. And, of course, there's Bobby Salazar's Mexican food and In–n-Out Burger....not to mention our plans to visit Disneyland. So all in all, we're pretty excited this afternoon and that is a very good thing.

I'll be posting from California so as my friend S would say: stay tuned. And keep the good karma flowing our way.

Why My People Love Uncle M

I called my sister's house this morning, seeking good humor and advice. But KO was gone and her husband, JT's Uncle M, drew the short stick on that deal. He listened and gave me calm, sensible advice.

Then, when I said I was sorry for getting tearful so early in his morning, he offered that yesterday morning at 7 am his dog had diarrhea all over the bedroom. All things considered, he said, a tearful sister-in-law at 7 am is actually an improvement in his week.

Seen that way, I had to agree.

My Mamafesto

A few years ago, a friend gave me a book called Mothers Who Think and in the past week I've been reading some of my favorite essays from the book. It's summer and I'm alone now and so I've had plenty of time to think about being a mother, and what that means to me.

When he was very little, JT used to call us "the mommy guys" and it always made me smile. It was if he understood that we were a parenting unit, a team. One of the best things about sharing JT with Lisa was the pride that we jointly took in our boy. He was often funny, and we were proud of that and loved to share those stories. We were proud when he mastered a new skill. I still remember the smile we exchanged when he read his first word. I was always most proud when he was kind-hearted.

There is no sharing now, of course. I think that Lisa might welcome it if I shared stories about JT with her, but I don't. I can't right now because it just hurts too much to try and share my son with someone who so clearly wanted out of our family, with someone who left. Somehow, it would feel like I was seeking her out, seeking her solace. But having caused the pain he and I feel, she's not the person who can help us heal. So I share the stories with my family and friends, I share them here in the blog, and I keep them in my journal.

I know that he feels hurt by her absence, but I don't know what to tell him. Usually I say that Mommy's heart wasn't happy and that she moved to a new place to help her heart to be happy. It feels like such an inadequate explanation. The other day, we were talking about his family, and how he thinks about us. JT practices doing this, though he has only told one person that his Mommy has gone. He guards that fact so carefully.

It was the first time he had articulated to me just what has happened to him. "I live with my Mama," he said, and then he paused and added, "but my dog Sam lives with my Mommy. They left us." I felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs when he said this. But I didn't cry, I just said what I have always told him, "Mama and Mommy love you very much."

In that moment, it was suddenly clear to me what it means to be a mother. It means that you are a steady presence in your child's life, there for the good and the bad, the happy and the sad, to share the triumphs and ease the pain. Being a mother happens in daily events of life built by and shared with one another. That's what it means to me anyway. And each morning when I see his first sleepy smile of the day I think to myself, I wouldn't trade the job for anything in the world. So that's what I know about being a mama: each and every day, I will savor his smile and love my boy with all my heart.

Chivalry is Not Dead

On Saturday night, JT and I went out to supper with our friend W and his daughter, A. During the course of the meal, A lost one of the tiny princess toys that she had acquired just that day. Her papa looked for it, but determined Belle was stuck behind the booth. We told A that she was gone for good.

But the little gentleman would hear none of it and within seconds JT was under the table, sticking his hand under the booth to find the toy. "I can see it," he announced, "where is a flashlight?"

The discovery that neither W nor I had brought a flashlight did not deter our prince and with the able assistance of A, he used a fork and a straw and the fork again to rescue the tiny toy. He emerged from under the table flush with success and then I took this photo to mark the accomplishment.

My young man was quite the gentleman, saving A from Saturday night heartbreak. And as A's smiling dimple illustrates, my boy knows how to charm the ladies.

Mean, Mean, Mama

Captain Fun showed up at noon today for her weekly visit with JT. And I was pleased to see that the dermatitus that sometimes afflicted her left eyelid has now inflamed her right eyelid as well. She looked awful --- red-eyed and itchy. And I didn't even feel bad. If anything, I was mildly amused. It must cost her some serious pride points to show up at my house looking like death on a cracker.

I wish I had a photo to share, but it just seemed in bad taste to ask to make her picture.

I am mean, but I'm not usually tacky.