What. A. DRAG.

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As parents, I would like to think we all have our questionable ‘habits’ or activities we engage in with our children. Some of us totally let our kids eat ice cream for dinner, or watch 8 hours of tv in a day, or we try to ignore the mess they or may-not have made in the bathroom. Sometimes you are just really hopeful that they are talking their usual nonsense, and it’s just as possible that they are lying as it is they are telling the truth, so you just go right on with your business, even if it’s entirely possible that they did overflow the toilet. Some days we have all had enough, and are willing to let things go. Really, none of us can judge, because the truth is we ALL do it, and anyone who says otherwise is lying through their asses. Come on, moms, LETS UNITE.

I can say a big, fat absolutely to any of the above, except for the ice cream, because my older son is weird and refuses to even try ice cream, but he has been allowed to eat Teddy Grahams and Goldfish for dinner. The point is, sometimes I am tired after taking care of two kids on not enough sleep, and I let my kid do whatever will keep him quiet and happy and not bored. This includes letting him watch whatever it is I am watching, or just not being that discriminating when it comes to what he could end up seeing. My limits are sex/nudity, and extreme violence, for obvious reasons. Beyond that, I feel comfortable with just about everything else. Including drag queens.

Yes, this means I watch RuPaul’s Drag Race in front of my sons. I even let them join in. Yes, I expose them to the glorification of men wearing make-up and TUCKING. What kind of a mother AM I?

In order to understand why I allow this, you have to ask yourself, really ask yourself why would it be wrong for a young child to see any of these things. I don’t really believe a lot of non-religious people who consider themselves “tolerant” ask themselves these questions. And I’m not judging anyone; I didn’t start asking them until very recently.

Go ahead: Being as objective as possible,  is there anything really wrong with a man wearing make-up and dresses? How is society being harmed in him doing so? I’m supposed to be okay with men loving other men and with people feeling like they were born the wrong gender, so how is anything or anyone being harmed by a man putting on an extremely entertaining show in drag? I don’t really see how it could be.

Here is my logic when it comes to my kids:

Right now, Deven doesn’t really “get” the difference between boys and girls, so telling him that something is more appropriate for a girl and not a little boy goes over his head. It’s kind-of nice having a kid thats unspoiled by both our biological and societal differences. He has his baby doll that he enjoys dressing, nursing, and changing, imitating what he sees when I care for his little brother. I think it is the sweetest thing I have ever seen, and I am not about to get in the way of him developing any kind of a nurturing side. He also takes more of an interest in how I put on my makeup than he does in how his daddy shaves. He has also asked me for dresses, and I have told him ‘no’ only because I don’t have tiny dresses lying around my house. You know what? He also likes playing with his trucks, and he loves wearing his fireman boots, and he is all about rolling around in dirt. He is as much a typical little boy as anything else. Even if he wasn’t, I want him to develop into a happy, confident, secure person, so it would not help either of us to “correct” any of his behaviors.

I’m not going to shove him in any direction gender-wise, I won’t need to. Biology will take over, his peers will take over, and he will figure it all out on his own.

If my son ever came to me and asked me why those men are dressed like women with big boobies and 20 lbs of make-up on, I would tell him that is their costume and they are putting on a show. Their character wears big wigs and has big hips and is a woman, and it makes other people and themselves happy to see them dance and perform that way. There can’t possibly be anything wrong with that. They’re artists with a very unique medium, and if I’m going to let my son listen to uncensored Korn, Lamb of God, and gangsta rap with me, then I am not going to stop him from watching a bunch of drag queens battle it out on stage.

Just. Plain. Sickening.

 

Silenced

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I was at work last night when I was called into the office and given the sad news. Whitney Houston, legendary singer of pop and R&B, passed away suddenly at the age of 48. I have to admit, my reaction wasn’t exactly sympathetic; I think I may have said something along the lines of “big surprise.” Sadly, like many others, we not only remember her tremendous talent, but we also recall her less than proud moments of the last several years.

The truth is, I was very shaken. I was able to laugh and make jokes, but inside all I could remember was listening to the Body Guard soundtrack with my mom. When my mom and I would clean the house, she would play one of her first two records and we would sing along.

In recent times, when I would listen to anything from The Body Guard soundtrack, I would tear up thinking about how much my mom loved Whitney and her music. I can’t even tell you how grateful I am for this reminder of the happier times with my mom.

Whitney Houston was a legend with a voice that could not be touched. She had a tremendous range, and unlike other younger singers, she never felt the need to over-sing. She didn’t need to. Her vocal style was effortless, and from experience, still incredibly hard to replicate.

I don’t want to remember her for her recent indiscretions. She was a human being, and all human being misstep in their life, some missteps larger than others. I choose to remember her for what she did that only so few people could do, which was silence a room with her amazing voice.

I read that her daughter, Bobbi Kristina, was rushed to the hospital after suffering a severe panic attack upon hearing the news of her mom’s sudden death. Bobbi Kristina is 18, the same age I was when my mother passed. I don’t know anything about her or her life other than who her parents happen to be. What I do know is that when I was 18, I was not an adult. I was not ready to leave my home, I was not ready to be on my own, I was not ready to be away from my mom. So I sure wasn’t ready to lose my mom, and I bet she isn’t either. There is nothing that anyone can say to her that will make her hurt any less. If I could say anything to her at all, it would be: Be with the people who know you and knew your mom. Be with the people who you know in your heart love you unconditionally and who will allow you to grieve. It’ll never go away, but it will get easier over time, not that it matters right now.

 

Making due

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Some days I look around our place and wonder how it is we are able to fit 2 adults, 2 small children, and 2 pets into this space.  When we moved here four years ago, we felt like we could breath again. After living in tiny apartments for so long, you can imagine the freedom that we experienced now that we had all of this space and a yard. There were stairs! Multiple bedrooms and almost as many bathrooms! Look at this huge kitchen!

Eventually that once huge kitchen didn’t have enough counter space or cabinet space. That half bath was in the perfect place to be turned into a litter box room. Those stairs was a rouse, creating the illusion of floor space. That backyard is still pretty big, but completely surrounded by other backyards of similar sizes. And even though we have three bedrooms, the baby still doesn’t have his own bedroom. The third bedroom is a guest/art/crap storage room.

Not only has our family grown over the last 4 years, but we’ve also somehow managed to acquire more crap along with each new body. And we’ve shoved it all into just about every nook and cranny.

A couple of months ago we decided the time has come to move, money or none. We can get a house with one smallish income, right? Sure. We started looking around at big houses with tile flooring on big plots of land. We knew it would have to be somewhat remote, but that was okay as long as there was a corner store or Walmart nearby. It turns out moving isn’t going to as easy as we originally thought with our meager income. We still need to save up some money, and thats going to take at least a year. Another year of trying to keep my sanity together amidst the ridiculous clutter.

We just have too much stuff, honestly. This place could easily fit four people into it if those four people didn’t all have these ridiculous hobbies, and projects, and toys. The problem isn’t the lack of space, it’s the stuff spilling out all over the place that makes me itch. We could very easily fit everyone into this space if we prioritized and threw some stuff away. No, I don’t mean pack stuff up and put in the garage, as even our garage is full of crap, I mean Throw Shit Away. If we aren’t going to be reusing it in the next year, it gets donated. Clothes. Toys. Work out equipment. Whatever.

This is getting ridiculous.