Murals

I haven't updated this blog in quite awhile, and I wish I could say it was because I was off somewhere exotic doing exciting revolutionary stuff. But, sadly, no. I couldn't think of anything "interesting" to say, basically. It was then that I realized that I was trying way too hard to be "original". I have strikes of genius every now and then, its true. Otherwise my life is a lot like your life, sort of? I guess? See that's the thing. Anything I write about is in some way original because only I can see through my eyes, and only you can see through yours! Well, that took some of the pressure off! Anyways....update on life with three gremlins, I mean cherubs! Obviously...geez...what kind of mother do you think I am?

So, I have this son. My only son, also my youngest. When I was pregnant with him and people would ask me, "Oooh! A boy huh? You ready for a boy? Noise with dirt on it!" I always thought, well yeah hello. My girls are tomboys as it is, can't be that different except for a couple pieces of extra equipment right? (All you mothers of boys, your caucus laughing right now is just hurtful) Turns out that was false. I know I know. I am actually totally cool with it though. I am so loving my connection with my little man and how it differs in some inexplicable way from the connection I have with my daughters. I sort of expected the noise, it's just a different kind of noise. I'm on board with the action too, his "love taps" are cushioned by irresistible chubbiness. Rough slimy kisses are totally worth how gross that actually is. But, I do wish that some soul out there had warned me about one thing that I was not quite prepared for.......

POOP.

WHY.

WHY IS MY SON OBSESSED WITH HIS OWN POOP.

No, really. The kid is a diaper ninja/renaissance man. He's not even two years old, yet he paints fantastic murals with depth and perspective. But why?Why out of poop? I would take an abstract honey BBQ sauce work on the couch over the diaper art! On the walls. On the furniture. On himself. I quickly got wise and thought, well I will just make sure he is always in pants so he can't get to the diaper! Wrong. He can remove and kind of pants with expert precision. It's impressive, really. And he is always so proud once he is discovered! He beams with confidence and self affirmation! "Behold woman! May your dense brain comprehend the magnitude of my creation!" 

Don't get me wrong I can detect brilliance! Obviously, he appreciates the beauty of nature and only wishes to project his artistic interpretation of the purest human experiences. I am proud to have raised a very young man with a mature environmental consciousness.  He only uses raw organic material!

You guys, it's fine. I'm sure your sons have some impressive qualities too.

Dear God, let's keep the poo poo behind the levees. Amen.

Strange Eats

There was a young child who swallowed a fly

Her mother wondered and guessed a reason why

Who knows what the kid thought up in her head,

"I will eat this poor fly, it is already dead."

Another young girl thought it would be fun,

to swallow a marble as bright as the sun

Her X-rays were quite clear, no marble could hide

A black and white photo that brought so much pride

More curious then those is this little boy

who thought it nice to eat a blue Lego toy

Mother knows best and didn't think twice

Why bother the doctor? We've been through this twice!

So poems have morals or lessons I've heard

Although this one is really quite absurd...

When toddlers won't eat their carrots and peas

Simply disguise them as toys or bugs now deceased!

After events such as these Mommies need breaks,

Our backs, feet, and brains really now ache!

Our kids, whom we love, are just plain insane

What's that on my sleeve? Yup it's a new stain!

*Dedicated to all mothers whose children swallow strange and inappropriate objects. Peace be with you, sisters.

Black Gold

There are things in life that capture us. I don't know how my vice found me, and I don't know if I'm grateful for it. I just know what I need, and I know to what cost I must find it. Do you know that feeling, friend? The ache. The longing. 


It feels like eternity since I've laid eyes on my treasure. I miss how my brain shivers at the taste. It won't be long now...


Yet here as I can smell its breath the minutes turn to eternities. The cruelty! Have I not endured? Have I not wrangled beasts and withstood floods? My memory flashes. Metal cages, shrieking beings, the musty smell of crushed foliage, the watching specters. The calamity storms from ear to ear as I feel the beads of moisture appear on my hairline. It won't be long now...my treasure is nearly claimed.


One final test. With a victory in sight my adrenaline surges one last time. The rush permits my arms to multiply! They cannot stop me! I pay my dues, and even as my body experiences a mild convulsion at the cost my emotions are quickly soothed because I know my prize awaits at the end of the road.


"What can I make you?"


"How much for an extra strong iced latte?"


"That would be..$3.25 with tax."

 "HOLY CRAP. I don't need it that bad. Let's load up the groceries kids we're getting chicken nuggets on the way home.........because Mommy is too tired to cook now."

Showstopper

I can barely hear myself through all their screaming! Their chanting is making the stage hum under my killer heels. I point to the top row and the screaming somehow intensifies. In front they are clawing at the stage ready to devour me. My head is spinning from their combined energy battering my senses. All the critics and training. All those hours in the studio leading up to this moment! This is my life. They are here, here for me.

I am a Diva. I am the Diva.
People jam to my songs at the stoplights.
There are like 50 parodies on You Tube right now.
I am going to be a guest on the Today Show.
Oprah will probably tweet about how epic my beats are.
Beyonce is gonna text me like, girl you do the damn thing!
Lifetime will make a movie of my life.
I've made it to the show.
It's my time!

I put my mic up and pose, ready for the MC to drop the beat...the audience inhales and holds their breath. Those seconds feel like hours. The stadium fills with sound, it's time to give them what they came for. Don't think just let the bass find your pulse...

'I know you know me
You heard my Mama swag
I'm Lady Voyager
So run and tell that.

I got this double stroller
You know I got that chrome
My pants feel hella tight
The nicest ones I own

Your girl ain't just a baby Mama
Your girl will bust a move
I got the play group hatin'
Cuz they know how I do

They say I don't enrich
They say my stuff ain't packed
They say kids need more organic
Not those beluga snacks

So all my sista Mamas
Throw your hands up high
Shake those bearing hips girl
No gaps up in these thighs!

My kids done got my swag
They got this sugar spice
My kids know Mom is Queen
Of this gangsta's paradise!'



"Mommy I couldn't find you but I have to go potty. Why are you talking to a hair brush?"