We were at a softball game. My mother and her friends sat on the steel bleachers by the field, watching as their husbands and boyfriends played. All the kids ran to a nearby hill to play and, as we slipped around on the grass that was wet from recent rain, we decided to slide down the hill on our bottoms. Up and down we went and, on one of my trips down, I slid over a piece of glass imbedded in the mud. I jumped up and put my hand on the back on my leg and saw the blood.

I walked gingerly towards the bleachers and, by the time I got there, my sock was soaked in blood. My mom was focused on the game, a cigarette in one hand and a Budweiser in the other. “Mom…” I said it quietly but she turned to look at me and then noticed all the blood and said, “Jes-us Christ. What did you do?” She finished off her beer, took one last long drag off her cigarette before stubbing it out and flicking it underneath the bleachers and then called me closer. “Turn around” she said and I did as I was told. She plunged her hand into her cooler, grabbed a handful of ice and began cleaning off my leg with less care than she would have shown the hood of her Monte Carlo.

“I think I need stitches, mom.”

“Nah. You’ll be fine.”

She reached into her purse and pulled out some tape and taped the cut. She then told me to go sit on the curb and wait for the game to be over. The tape didn’t stick – that was never the intended purpose of scotch tape. I  waited on the curb and, when the game was finally over, we went home.

Years later, when my mother had mellowed and we had reached our fragile peace, I mentioned that day and she said, “Yeah, you should have had stitches but I took care of it.”

“Mom, you tried to scotch tape my ass.”

She laughed and said, “Well, that probably wasn’t one of my best moments.”

When I first started sharing my writing about my mother with others, someone asked my rhetorically, “How do you learn to mother your children when you weren’t nurtured by your own mother?” I wondered that myself.

I thought a lot about mothers this week as we prepared for Listen To Your Mother and that question came back to me and I settled on part of the answer.

My mother taught me how to be tough, how to be independent, how to survive. Those are all good gifts. But, I really learned about mothering from my sister.

My sister is 14 years older than me and has always been the kindest presence in my life.

It was my sister who bathed me when I was little, who brushed my long hair.

It was my sister who took me to the zoo and the circus, who baked Christmas cookies with me and made birthdays special.

My sister was the first person I came out to and, despite her fears and worries, she supported me without question.

It was my sister who came to our commitment ceremony and toasted both Luisa and me, who later hosted the baby shower for our first child.

My sister was in the room with us for each of our kids’ births.

My sister is also a mother and, in watching her, I learned to advocate for my children, that you must be fierce even if later you break down in tears.

It is my sister’s voice I hear in my head when I have been far too strict and controlling with my own children and her whisper reminds me to have fun, to enjoy them and to spoil them every once in awhile.

My sister is the person who taught me that some people do love unconditionally.

Today is my sister’s birthday and I forgot to send her a card. I have it. It’s on my desk. It’s just that I never managed to put a stamp on it and drop it in the mail. But, as I contemplated motherhood this week, I was holding her close in my heart.

So…Sis…if you read this, I want you to know that I love you and admire you and you will always be one of my heroes. Thank you for being an incredible sister and for loving me and for making me a better person. I love you very much.

I didn’t see anything remarkable about my statement at the time but I can look back at it and see so clearly my internal monologue…

“Who am I?” (You are just a small, unknown blogger.)

“What do I know?” (Nothing.)

“How did I get here?” (You lucked out.)

“Why do they think I have something to offer?” (You charmed your way into this.)

I am not unusual. So many of us struggle to own our experiences, to embrace our talents. Why do we keep ourselves so small?

It’s been roughly nine months since I had that conversation with Heather and a lot can change in nine months.

Working with Heather and Tracy and Galit changed me. This process changed me.

Tomorrow, I will have the distinct pleasure of standing on a stage to read a piece that I wrote just for this show. I will look out at the audience and the cast and my c0-director and producers and can say, “We made this happen.”

My internal dialogue is a little different these days. There are fewer questions and far more declarations.

“I am a good writer.”

“I know many things.”

“I am not just lucky. I work hard.”

“I am pretty damn charming.”

I hope to see many of you tomorrow night at the Riverview Theater. A last plug – 20% of all ticket sales today will go to The Jeremiah Program. Get yours here.

I am honored to have been a part of this team of directors and producers and am in awe of the cast, many of whom are facing their own doubts as they stand up to share their stories.

We did this. Together.

A toy shark, of course, because it wouldn’t be “weird” to find a real shark in the bathroom – it would be “scary”.

The scuba diver was a toy too because none of us own scuba gear and it would be a different kind of “scary” to find a strange scuba diver hanging out in our bathroom. It would be “weird” if one of us did own scuba gear and put it all on and waited in the bathroom. That would be weird funny…and now I wish that I owned scuba gear for this purpose alone.

Whispered Aside ~ I could not sleep last night which might explain the digression…but…you know I love a digression so maybe I’m just feeling self-indulgent today. ~ End Whispered Aside

I try to make sense of these weird things that I find but I usually fail. I know who is responsible and I could ask what it’s all about but there is something about the absurdity of it all that I appreciate.

Truly understanding it might ruin the surprise.

So, my bathroom is a lot like life: unpredictable, weird, absurd, funny, a bit cold and a little confusing.

Last week was all of those things for me.

I was thrilled when my piece for the Listen To Your Mother Twin Cities Show was published by the Huffington Post and the good and bad comments reminded me of the importance of storytelling.

For those who don’t know what followed, another site took my story, distorted my message and then took pictures of my kids from my Facebook account and posted them. (The article and pictures have since been removed.)

As I start this new week, I am filled with gratitude.

I am grateful for all who read my piece and took the time to comment respectfully.

I am grateful for all those who contacted me personally to tell me that my words meant something to them.

I am grateful for Luisa who helped me deal with the misrepresentation and pictures even though she was in Trinidad.

I am grateful for every single person who offered to kick some ass on my behalf. Your protectiveness was adorable and appreciated.

I am grateful that I am able to write and that, for whatever reason, people read what I write.

I can’t make sense of everything and I don’t have to. Last week reminded me that, sometimes, you just need to embrace the bow ties and football helmets and sharks in the bathroom and be grateful for the unexpected.

I am learning to do just that.

We were so different.

I was from Kansas and she was from Portugal. She spoke impeccable English but didn’t get any of my pop culture references. I was words and stories and loud laughter and she was quiet and analytical and had the most adorable smirk.

We were a little bit of a mess at times. We were so young.

Twenty years have passed and we are different versions of ourselves, better versions.

I know, without a doubt, that I am a better person because of her.

It sounds sentimental and it is but it is also a truth born of work. We are not perfect, individually or together. There is no secret or special magic. We’ve made it this far simply by wanting the best for each other, by honoring the most vulnerable parts of each other, by stripping away illusions.

I will always be the girl who is more likely to write her a poem than make her a pot of coffee and she will always be the girl who makes the pot of coffee rather than writing me a poem.

Somehow, it works.

I hope it keeps working for years to come.

We are giving away FOUR packs of tickets (2 tickets per pack) and you can enter to win by leaving a comment here but can get additional entries by sharing on Twitter and Facebook.

Free tickets to an incredible show is a great thing, right?

I know that I’ve posted about the show and cast before but, in case you never clicked over to check it out, look at the cast:

Carol Allis

Jeanne Bain

Jennifer Ball-Tufford

Nina Badzin

Elisa Bernick

Haddayr Copley-Woods

Kate Hopper

Colleen Kruse

Lorna Landvik

Melissa Nielsen

Kelly O’Sullivan

Vikki Reich

Kate St. Vincent Vogl

Sue Taylor

I’ve had the privilege of reading each and every piece for this show and can’t wait for you all to hear them!

The giveaway will run through midnight on 4/21/13 so let’s do this thing!

Exclamation points courtesy of TOO MUCH COFFEE WAHOO!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

All is as well as can be excepted when you live in a state that keeps getting winter storm warnings in April and the sun has dropped you like a clingy girlfriend, changed its phone number and moved with no forwarding address.

I haven’t been blogging because I have been working on my book. I have actually been writing (not tracking sharks and watching YouTube videos) and I notice that, when I am doing that, I am not here to entertain you.

I thought about posting some of the writing I have done that will not make it into the current essay I am working on but it would have no context and then what if I changed my mind and wanted to use it?! All of the surprise would be ruined.

So, you aren’t getting anything but rambling today.

Well, you get the rambling and the cute picture of my kids looking like the accountants for the Academy Awards! I did write a post about learning to tie a tie that I am sure will warm the cockles of your heart…if you have cockles…or can stand to say the word cockles. I think I have personally hit my cockles limit, though I just said cockles again. And now again. The cockles are very persistent in being included here.

How about I give you something else in addition to the rambling and cute picture? I’ll offer you a funny little Miguel anecdote about an exchange we had while he was working on an essay.

Miguel: “How do you spell ‘revisualizing’? The computer has no suggestions.”

Me: “Well that’s because it is not a word.”

Miguel: “Then ‘recall’ it is!”

Hmmm. Maybe you had to be there.

This blog post is going so well. I am breaking about 39 rules of blogging right now, especially the one about providing good content.

I think I should just end this now before I embarrass myself further and go back to work on my essay which is not about rambling or cockles but probably does need some revisualizing.

I will leave you with a picture of Momo because cute kids and cute cats are always popular on the internet, right? It’s in the rules of blogging right under the one that says, “Don’t blog unless you have something to say” which I am clearly ignoring today.

We have reached the finish line!

We are victorious!

I am delirious.

After last year’s epic peep movie, I realized that I needed to take a break and then I thought about passing the peep torch (that sounds delicious!) to the next generation.

Obviously, my kids have been around for all the peep shenanigans over the years and peep fever runs in their veins so they were happy to take on the movie this year.

They spent their Easter morning making this little film and it is all them – start to finish. (Not Pictured: The Bickering).

I am so proud of them and love them so much for taking this on and giving me a little peep filmmaking vacation.

I present “Dance of the Peeps” by Miguel and Zeca…

To show my gratitude for their efforts, I granted them one wish and their wish was to see how many of the cast they could fit in their mouths. So here is a bonus video!

Happy Peep Week!

I used this recipe for the vodka (yes, it’s a wikihow – don’t judge) and then adapted a recipe for a s’more martini from SheKnows.

I did not take video of the vodka-making because there wasn’t much to do. I did document the process in photographs which you can check out on my blog Facebook page. If you haven’t, maybe you could “like” my page while you are there. I am also going to post a couple of outtakes…maybe not today but soon.

I’d promise you vodka in exchange for your “like” but you can’t ship alcohol. Such a sad fact of life. The pictures are pretty cool though, especially if you like seeing a bunch of floating peep eyes.

The video below is of me doing a shot of vodka and making a cocktail.

Let’s have a few disclaimers, shall we?

1. I look like hell because I had been in bed reading and didn’t want to drink vodka. Luisa suggested that I do it today after lunch and I couldn’t bear the thought of midday peep vodka drinking. So, I dragged myself out of bed in sweatpants and hoodie and no bra and with two chin zits (peep week has wrought havoc on my complexion) and drank vodka.

2. Who needs another disclaimer when the one above is so amazing?

Enjoy!

I have no video for you today for the following reasons:

1. I have two enormous zits on my chin and yes, I blame peeps for this.

2. We are so behind! Never in all the peep weeks have I made things and posted them on the same day…until this year.

3. I was down a helper which meant I was peep wrangling, directing my lone helper and could not hold a camera at the same time.

4. I am weary.

But, I do have pictures because as the youngsters say, “Pics or it didn’t happen” and the Peep Pops happened!

The recipe was taken from the same book mentioned yesterday and called for the following:

6 oz of semisweet chocolate, chopped

1/2 cup coconut and 1/2 cup chopped peanuts

12 craft sticks

12 peeps

For the first time in the history of Peep Week, we used bunnies – a crazy break from tradition! The reason is that the recipe called for bunnies but also bunnies are flat and would stay on a stick better. It’s physics, people!

We strayed from the recipe in two ways: 1) We did coconut, chopped pecans and chopped Reese’s Peanut Butter Minis at Zeca’s request and 2) I used 2 cups of chocolate chips so that there would be enough chocolate for me to dip the bunnies easily.

Step 1: Impale bunnies

Step 2: Dip bunnies in melted chocolate, dip in chosen toppings and place on cookie sheet

Step 3: Freeze for at least 30 minutes and then enjoy! 

This was by far the the easiest treat we have ever made! Zeca thought they were absolutely delicious and I thought they were pretty good too. I had a Reese’s one and it was rather sweet but still tasty. These come with the Casa de Fox stamp of approval!

Today, we made molten chocolate lava peep cakes. I’m not certain about the order of those words but have been immobilized by the chocolate lava so cannot move to go look up the proper name of the recipe. I took the recipe from this book once again.

The video is really long. I’m sorry about that. Think of it as a cooking show because the kids are pretty adorable and I couldn’t cut any of the footage. Actually, I did cut the section in which Miguel was carrying chocolate chips to the stove and I was all “Please don’t drop them but I know you’re gonna drop them!” and he was all, “You have so little faith in me and maybe you should do this yourself and also you owe me allowance.” It was just too long.

So yes, this is like a little cooking and tasting show. If you just want to skip to the tasting, that part starts around 5:03.

Miguel had a point about the appearance. Guess which ones are ours?

The other thing I will say is that neither child finished theirs because it was so rich. I finished mine…and I regret it.

Bon appétit!