Up Popped A Fox

As I pulled a t-shirt out of the dresser recently, I realized that my summer wardrobe is largely determined by the fact that my girlfriend is an epidemiologist. She gets a lot of t-shirts from events related to her work, so, I am a walking billboard for health issues. My chest screams “NO MAS!” and my back gives links to sites about HIV and STD’s. Sometimes, my chest whispers “AIDS Walk” and my back simply advertises for various sponsors. One of my favorite and most comfortable shirts says, “World Refugee Day” on the front. There are some I won’t wear though. One says, “STOP DROP AND ROLL” and has a big picture of a condom on it. I’m not a prude - I object to the shirt because 1) it’s ugly and 2) I think “STOP DROP AND ROLL” is a stupid slogan. Luisa wears that shirt all the time, however – despite my pleas. There is another shirt that simply has a picture of a giant condom as a parachute. I don’t even remember what it says but the condom is a heinous salmon color and the whole things is just ridiculous and unappealing. I appreciate a free shirt now and then so it’s all good. Poor Luisa gets no social work t-shirts. The only one I could think to make anyway would say, “Don’t Let the Bedbugs Bite”.

Last evening was nearly perfect. The kids were in their rooms – one listening to a book on tape, the other playing quietly. I made dinner in the kitchen while listening to Mariza while making dinner and sipping a beer. We had a pleasant dinner together. No one complained about the food. No one argued. After dinner, Miguel asked to walk to the convenience store for a treat and I let him (much to his surprise). Zeca had had a stomach ache earlier so I told her that she couldn’t have anything after dinner. She didn’t scream the eyebrows off my face or throw herself to the ground sobbing, not even when Miguel returned and ate a Snicker’s bar in front of her. Then, Miguel headed back to his room to listen to his book some more and Zeca got some things together and began a collage at the dining room table. They left me alone and I was able to do a bit of writing. Everyone was so civilized.

And then…I sent Zeca up to get ready for bed.

Zeca went in Miguel’s room. He asked her to leave. She ignored him. He got increasingly frustrated. She continued to putz around touching all of his things until he snapped and started yelling for her to leave his room. She proceeded on her Tour of Touching. He threatened her and she finally moved to the doorway. He demanded she leave and she maintained that she wasn’t in his room, she was in his doorway. He lost it and hit her. She threw herself to the floor.

The parenting gods smote me because I mentioned my perfect evening on Twitter. 

The next 15 minutes were filled with tears and shouts. Zeca cycled through sadness and fury. Miguel cycled through anger and frustration. I cycled through outrage and fatigue. I talked to Miguel for a long time about his behavior and he finally seemed to understand that he cannot hit his sister, no matter how annoying she may be. I then spent time with Zeca comforting her but also laying it out – listen to people when they tell you to stop or when they need space. I then said goodnight to both and went back downstairs. When I sat down at the computer, there was a note covered in hearts from Miguel that said:

Dear Mom-

I am sorry it went this way.

Love, Miguel

And he had placed a Reese’s peanut butter cup on top. He then came downstairs and sat by me on the couch and said, “It must be stressful to be a parent. I am sorry that I am part of that sometimes. I love you.”

Is this a 9 year old thing? If so, please send me a truck load of 9 year olds!

I am full of words but I have only fifteen minutes to write. Fifteen minutes. I can do many things in that time…linger over a cup of coffee, listen to music, write an e-mail…but I cannot write you a story. A story requires that I stare for awhile. I need to hear the words and then sit back and watch as they wrap around each other. Write. Edit. Write again. This week time is limited. Luisa is in Atlanta and I am here with those two little beings that require my custodial care. But, I feel like writing. So, this week, I’ll give you all I can – fifteen minutes a day – and we’ll see what that looks like.

Steeling Myself – a haiku

This cup of coffee

Must sustain me for the day

What more can I add?

With one minute to spare…

Hyperbole is one of my closest allies. I can take a simple moment and spin it to epic proportions. Sometimes, I do it to entertain. Sometimes, I do it because I think it’s expected of me. Sometimes, I do it because it’s easy. The past two posts were written for all of those reasons. I don’t really know how to write about the rest of BlogHer in a way that would have meaning for all of you. I was thrilled to meet some of the people I’ve come to know and respect online – Grace Yip, Grace Chu, Polly (not a meeting so much as a reunion), Deborah, Deb on the Rocks, Liza, and Riese, Alex and Jess from Autostraddle. Check this post (but ignore the menacing and/or unflattering pictures of me) – Alex talks about two of our meet-ups. I had unexpected encounters that I thoroughly enjoyed – I ogled a woman in an unfortunate mini skirt with Kat as we sipped drinks in some random NY bar and I danced like crazy with Sarah while decked out in glow sticks. I met many more people but I’m afraid to start a list for fear of forgetting someone. I don’t think I learned much from the conference sessions themselves though Alex did teach me about graphs! When I left New York, I was sure that BlogHer was not the place for me but, now, I’m not so sure. This brings to mind a favorite piece of movie dialogue: “Are you really so sure of everything you’re so sure of?/ Sure, aren’t you?/ Not as sure.” Can you name the characters and movie?  

In the end, I have realized that BlogHer made me feel a little lost. I find myself wondering what I’m doing, with this blog, with my writing. Maybe this is the best kind of lost there is. Maybe in recognizing that I’m lost, I will find my way. To be found, I know that I must trust and believe in myself. I’m not sure how to do that but I know if I don’t, I will once again find myself in that hammock on the Path of Least Resistance. Advice is welcome.  

One other thing… 

Every week, I am all over the internet and read tons of posts and articles. Sometimes, friends in the real world ask me to compile a list of links for them to read and I realized I’d like to start doing that here too. There is so much out there! So, here are a few things that I loved this week:

• Deb on the Rocks wrote an inspiring piece about her stay at the Chelsea Hotel in NY: Pilgrimage, New York, Hotel Chelsea, BlogHer
• Rachel wrote a thought-provoking post on Autostraddle about being alone:  Eat Pray Love Won’t Teach You How to Be Alone (or, “First Try to See Something, Anything Else”)
• Esra’a spoke at BlogHer about her work with the site Mideast Youth and she was hilarious and amazing. Check out Mideast Youth so you too can be amazed. 

Have a great weekend! I’ll be back next week. I’m sure of that.