pink pajama mama

For those who know m, it’s no secret that I have a special bond with gay men. We like the same movies (Auntie Mame!), we love stories with dramatic flair, and we appreciate fabulous fashion.So, when my second child was a boy, I was thrilled!  ”Oohh!! Maybe he’ll grow up to be a drag queen!” I thought. Sparkles, rhinestones, gorgeous costumes, cabaret songs all danced in my head. At first, there were all sorts of positive signs. He wore his sister’s sundresses nearly every day and showed no interest in “boy’s” clothes. He wore a leotard, tutu, and ballet slippers to gymnastics class and to Annabelle’s ballet class, and even though, at 2 years old, he was too young to join the class, he danced around outside the closed door with real gusto, leaping, twirling and bending his pudgy little knees into plie’s.Other moms would chide me: “You big goof! Why do you make him wear dresses and tutus!” Well, I don’t know about other mothers and their toddlers, but I don’t “make my children wear anything.  Henry was quite adamant about his clothing choices, and even if I was a dictator-type mother, clothing choice is not a battle that is important to me. He’s a toddler! He can wear what he wants. There will be plenty of battles in life, but for me, clothing will not be one of them. My parents were open-minded enough to let me wear whatever I wanted as a kid, and as a result, I was able to express a lot of my creativity and individuality through my clothing. I loved it. They loved it. They just shook their head and laughed when I went to school wearing a bustle and long dress on one of my more creative days. And so, I was thrilled with Henry strong sense of his toddler self, He felt comfortable enough to wear exactly what he wanted, regardless of society’s restrictions. Honestly, who cares, and what toddler wouldn’t prefer pink sparkles over a dinosaur with sharp scary teeth?Well, ok, I’m sure there are plenty, but my Henry wasn’t one of them.But as Henry’s grown, he’s now 3, it seems he’s actually more attracted to those dinosaurs. We go to the toy store and he heads right for the boats and motorcycles. He loves any game that involves kicking and throwing balls, and he’s informed me that boys don’t wear nail polish. Whenever I see a male with painted nails, I point out to him that some boys wear nail polish, but, sadly, he’s put his own moratorium on painting his nails.Regardless of what I do, Henry will turn out to be Henry, and while I’m still secretly rooting for him to be a swaggering broadway musical director, he seems to leaning toward being a pirate or a speedcar racer.There are some encouraging things though. He did sit through quite a bit of the opera yesterday, and at 1 year old he sat through the ENTIRE Nutcracker without a peep.  He was fascinated. I had planned to leave after a few minutes when he got antsy, but he never did. So we’ll see. Maybe he’ll  just be a well-rounded hetero who can attend the theater with his wife and actually like it.Then again, maybe his wife will be named Mark.

Walt Whitman: “This is what you shall do: love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone who asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unkown.”I love this quote.  It frees me from the shackles of anger. I get so mad at people who want to restrict the rights of others. I get so mad when people think everyone should be just like themselves. I get so mad when people value money over family, when they want to protect their own little insular world and all others be damned.It’s so confusing to me.In my world, family comes first, before money, before career, before religion. Family is my religion.In my world, the laughter of children is treasured over a clean home.My favorite kitchen is covered in flour and tiny chocolate fingerprints.I feel so lovely sitting on the white sands of Lambert’s Cover, watching my little mermaid frolic in the gentle waves, watching my little buster stand in water up to his chubby ankles with his boogie board strapped to his wrist, while he watches, fascinated, his board go in and out with the tide.I love the soft pink of the sky as the sun sets and the ocean turns an extraordinary lavendar, glowing at magic hour.I love sitting on the bench at Annabelle’s drama camp, amidst the thick grove of trees, watching the dancers, listening to the opera singers, watching them walk among the trees in their rich gorgeous costumes, their voices pouring through the air and washing over me and Henry as he balances on the rock wall.And now my mermaid comes to me to ask for a bedtime snack…