Monday, October 27, 2014

Forever Unclean

My son was about four months old.  We were getting ready to meet his siblings for the first time. Well, three of them anyway.
We lived just over 700 miles from my step kids and since my son's birth we had not been able to travel and see them. Christmas had just passed, but it was our turn to see the kids for our own holiday celebration. My husband left early that morning to meet and pick up the kids half way between our home and theirs.

We lived in a one bedroom drafty basement apartment. There was no television and I barely had enough dishes to cook a proper meal. (Awe the joys of starting out broke and having a new baby!)
With my son being an infant, I kept the heat a little higher than usual and wrapped my baby in layers of clothes and blankets. I had just finished cleaning our tiny space. I did my hair and even put on jeans (post c-section momma who went through a yoga pants ONLY phase for six months). I admit I was trying to impress my step kids by making them think I had all my ducks in a row. I hadn't seen them in so long and I wanted everything to be perfect for their visit meeting their new brother.
  I forget now what it was that I ate but, being a breast feeding mom everything I ate, my baby had via breast milk too.  Whatever it was that I ate though upset my son's little tummy. He had a blow out and I had to remove all his layers, clean him up and put a fresh pamper on him.  
  Normally this is not that big of a deal. New babies poop and sometimes blow outs happen. This blow out though was a special kind of nasty. It glowed like kryptonite and smelled horrendous. My son holds the record for smelliest, heaviest poops in the history of baby and toddler-dom. He has been pooping grown men since I stopped breast feeding.
 Anyway, back to changing the baby.
I had gone through an unusual amount of wipes for this pamper. My son was crying because his rear was now on fire with this poisonous liquid. It was gross, and as a new mom yes, I gagged.
Then it happened...
 I don't know if all moms get the pleasure of the following experience but, it's a shame if one misses out on this kind of motherhood christening.

I had thoroughly wiped my sons fanny and it was back to clean and smooth-ville. I was changing him on the floor. Upon lifting his rear up to place a fresh pamper down my son sharted. Sharting is when one passes gas and fecal matter escapes the sphincter at the same time.
 It is not uncommon with babies but, usually the fecal matter is tiny and solid, only requiring another "wipey once over".  Not this time though. My sons liquid kriptonite poo sprayed me in the face with that shart. Yes, I had my mouth open and was cooing at my cherubic like spawn when it happened. My already freckled face now had twice the freckles and the shart carried enough force to spread fecal freckles on the wall directly behind me.
 I froze. OH MY LANTA! I felt tears well up in my face and my little angel now resembled Satan as he giggled about the ticklish shart he had just expelled.
The following thoughts run through my head...
Do I spit? Do I scream? My Hair! Why is he laughing at me? I AM FOREVER UNCLEAN!

After a moment of being frozen in shock and horror I finish cleaning up my sharty baby and proceed to go 14 rounds with the mouth wash.  Yes 14, because 6 is the mark of the beast, 7 is a holy number but, it was kryptonite sharting so I needed double the holy number to combat the evil freckle sphincter baptism.

I showered, restyled my hair and texted the hubby who --decided to share the story with my step babies, ruining my chances of impressing anyone about anything.
When the hubby dearest arrived home he proceeded to taunt me by not kissing me hello like we always do when he gets home. No, instead he said "I love you baby but...... you're forever unclean, remember?"

Let's Fight Cancer!

 On November 1st, Kyle (Our great dane) Tzion,("T" is silent, the man-child) and myself will be doing a cancer walk.
We are teaming up with 2million dogs (Soon to be Puppy Up) to raise funds and awareness for cancer research in both humans and animals.
It is our first walk and fundraiser.

In the spring of 2010 my Nanny (grandma) was diagnosed with terminal colon cancer.
I watched as she slowly but bravely lost her battle. It was devastating to say goodbye to my person.  I was her name sake, her first granddaughter, and her partner in crime. When I went to stay with Nanny she taught me so much about love and God. She taught me how to paint my nails, curl my hair on my own and other young lady lessons. She taught me important details from holding up my pinky while we sipped tea to using manners at all times.
I miss her so much everyday. I hate that she is missing out on my family today. My son would have been her world. She had a way of making all of the grand kids (and great grand kids) feel like they were each her favorite.
 My walk is in honor of her and a friend of mine whom's husband I used to work for. Vicky's bravery with her battle is inspiring. I will be sending her much love and prayer as I walk that day.

Kyle will be representing his breed and other large breeds. Great Danes are prone to bone cancer.

Tzion won't be walking. He will be chillen in the stroller,  his presence will be representing all the childhood cancer fighters and survivors. Likely he will be greeting everyone he meets on our walk. "Hey Man," or "Hi, I am Tzion, this is Mommy, and that is my Kyle. How are you today?"

It is important to me to teach my son starting now to support the things we believes in.  I want him to learn to be proactive in fighting for others. It is with honor we join others in this walk.

 If you were going to do a cancer walk, who would it be for? 

If you're interested in donating to our walk, we are asking for $5.00 donations here.

If you have lost a loved one (family, friend or pet) to cancer please feel free to share their story in the comments. 

My Modern Family

My Modern Family,
It's a Sunday afternoon. My family and I are watching re-runs of the Modern Family show. If you have had the opportunity to see the show you know it's about three different households that are all related. Jay and Gloria, the "grandparents" are a couple with at least 20 years in age difference (Jay's oldest daughter is actually older than Gloria). Jay is a white man and Gloria is Colombian, (and a vivacious one at that). Jays daughter, Claire is married to Phil and they have three kids together, Haley, Alex and Luke. Jay's oldest son Mitchel is gay, his partner Cameron and he have an adopted daughter, Lilly from Vietnam. Gloria has a son from a previous marriage, Manny. Jay and Gloria also have a son between them, baby Joe. If you have managed to read this far without getting confused about the family tree you are doing great. If you're thoroughly confused... Just know it's one big happy multicultural, hilariously funny family. 

One of my favorite episodes from season one was on, "Threading the Needle." There is this moment towards the end of the episode when the character Jay (played by Ed O'neil) hugs Phil, (played by Ty Burrell) and told him he liked him (love is a strong word between two dudes).
Then Cameron (played by Eric Stonestreet, and one of my favorites on the show) joined in, followed by Manny (played by Rico Rodriguez). It's a beautiful moment with the whole family in the same room sharing love, and strong like for each other.  
This time while watching that scene I look around my living room at my own little modern family.
I am 26 years old, a glow in the dark, white female laying out on our futon. My husband, in his 40's, is a brilliant Mensa member and a black man. I was actually hand twisting his wiry locks while we watched our beloved show. 
Next to us is my teenage step daughter. Her skin is a beautiful copper and her hair has the kind of natural curl women pay big money to imitate. My two year old was between pretending to read to us and entertaining himself with a toy on wheels. He has my complexion but, his hair has curls cherubs would be jealous of. 

I am a mother and step mother to five children. My husband is yes, a bit older than me. Obviously we have different cultural backgrounds.  My husband comes from a more privileged and well educated life than I. He is a Philly native, has a masters degree and has never been hungry a day in his life. His immediate family growing up was small. He grew up with two sisters. However, his extended family and the community around him was large and supportive.
 I am a Midwest cowgirl from rural Oklahoma. Everything I know past 3rd grade, I taught myself. I know what hunger feels like. I put myself through community college while working two jobs. I grew up with five brothers and one sister. My extended family and community were considered outsiders. 

My husband and I have vastly different backgrounds but, together we make a great team.  He had been married before and came into our relationship with his four amazing babies. I had barely left the cowgirl life and became the 2nd wife with a full family instantly.  When we met I was so non-committal about any and everything it was not even funny (Okay, maybe it was, a little).  Poppa, (as I lovingly call my hubby) made me want to be committed (And not to a coo coo ward). We jumped in with both feet and haven't looked back. 

On this lazy Sunday afternoon in our tiny apartment I found myself falling in love with my family all over again.
Watching Modern Family is one of our favorite lazy day activities. 
I love the show's constant theme to celebrate each of the characters differences.

In my family I see our different skin colors and hair types. I've learned (and continue to learn) how to care for each and everyone's different needs, spiritually, physically and emotionally. I value each of my kid's differences. I value the differences between my husband and myself.  We have a blended family in more ways than one. It's an amazing family too. 

Throughout history the picture of family and what it means and looks like has morphed. Not too many years ago certain kinds of families were illegal, (in some places they still are) including my own. I am so thankful I live in a day and time where I can have the family that I do. 
 Family isn't always blood related. Family is not defined by money, race or sexual orientation. 
Family is differences coming together in love, to make a beautiful bigger picture.

I love and celebrate my family, my "modern" family.