Random Musings of a Sleep-Deprived Mind

Yea! Fall is here, and it's finally cooling off, Austin-style, meaning that I can wear socks and something other than a tank top in the mornings.

Lots of stuff is happening, and I wanted to take a minute (we'll see how many I can sneak in... Mal slept over 3 hours before waking the first time last night, but has already awoken once this evening) to note some updatey things and some mental note things. You know, junk and stuff.

First of all, this evening, I had this very panicked feeling that I'd crossed over into "old lady" territory for reals. I was going into Mal's room to pick some stuff up as James was on his way home. I was wearing skirted leggings and habitually make sure the skirt is covering my bootay. As I did this, I realized that the pants part under the skirt... it was soaked. My first thought was< "Did I pee myself and not even notice?!" And I might have had a brief thought of something I've heard of called "anal seepage" which might actually be a dog issue, but I wasn't necessarily thinking rationally, as I pondered what the heck this meant for my future and my marriage and my parenting my kids into adulthood. Then it hit me that, although today has been a gorgeous day, it did rain all weekend and I had just been sitting on the patio furniture and the cushions have not had nearly enough time to dry out. But isn't it fun where our minds go? (Not so much fun when our minds go.)

Last week, I had taken Mal to his "gym" to play and a couple of people were asking how old he is.

Allow me to interrupt myself here to say that twice last week, different people (both older) referred to Mal as a girl. I don't even care; you can't really tell with babies. I think it's just going to get worse as his hair grows out. I would have corrected the lady at the gym if I'd realized that we were going to end up talking for half an hour, but whatever. I'll probably never see her again. However, she did say something interesting...

To continue, when these people found out that he was 13 months (or 1 year, 1 month, as I promised Daphne I wouldn't be one of "those moms" who says "He's 41 months;" James says we should say it as a fraction, as in: "We're 13/216 done."), they were surprised at how agile he was.

The above-referenced grandma was really getting a kick out of watching "her" climb and run around so adroitly. At one point, she said, "I think you're going to have a gymnast right there."

That struck me because someone made a very similar prophecy over Daphne when she was just a little older. Of course, that girl wasn't a grandma. She was actually a gymnast from Russia who was teaching a community tumbling class in Las Vegas, and I took her a little more seriously. Anyway, it will be fun to see if Mal is at all interested in gymnastics as he gets older. Goodness knows he has the energy for it.

There used to be a Special K commercial (or a series of them) about how you were a Fatty McGee if you could "pinch an inch." The answer, of course, was to eat their very nutritious *sarcasm* cereal and drop that flibbity flabbity floo so that your stomach region was ungrabbable. Well, I have to tell you that I've pretty much all my life been able to pinch at least an inch, and I have at least one person who is really glad.

When I nurse with a "pull up" top (as opposed to a "pull down" top), Mal likes to knead my stomach. It's actually quite a relief, because otherwise he often wants to play with my other... um, side. It doesn't seem fair. I feel that the off-duty side should get a break, for goodness' sakes. Or sometimes, especially if he's really sleepy, he'll put his hand in my mouth, which, okay, whatever. Until he starts scratching my gums with those razor blade fingernails of his. So, yeah, pinch an inch, dude. Not many nerve endings down there.

I've been very emotional about some things lately, and today had several cry moments listening to "Free to Be You and Me" streaming on Spotify. When I was little, we used to check this record out from the library like several times per year. Then when D was small, my mom found a copy of a book that was made to go along with a CD, and we listened to it quite often. It means so much more to me now that I have a teenager.

Okay, first, this is a silly little poem, but it made me choke up a little bit, and I'll try to explain why in a minute:

Don't dress your cat in an apron
Just 'cause he's learning to bake.
Don't put your horse in a nightgown
Just 'cause he can't stay awake.
Don't dress your snake in a muu-muu
Just 'cause he's off on a cruise.
Don't dress your whale in galoshes
If she really prefers overshoes.

A person should wear what he wants to.
And not just what other folks say
A person should do what she likes to
A person's a person that way.

And then here's the title song. Oh, my gosh, it's such a hippie.



Then there's the story of the princess Atalanta and her evenly-matched would-be suitor. And "William's Doll." "It's All Right to Cry." "Boy Meets Girl." Just do yourself a favor and go listen to the whole thing on Spotify. It really is fun. Your kids will love it. If you don't have kids, your cats will love it, too.

The album came out the year that I was born, and I couldn't help but wonder as I listened to it today how much of my laissez-faire attitude about kid stuff started fermenting with these ideas, repeated over and over, and echoing in my memory.

Here's the thing: I don't really know how radical this album was when it came out, but I do know that today's world is very different than the world in which my parents grew up. And I know that some people lament the passing of the "old days." But, can I tell you, I don't? I appreciate the freedoms we have to make decisions so much freer of the narrow gender expectations that were placed on the generations before ours.

As the parent of at least one gender-nonconforming kid (and with Mal's love of hair products, fascination with make-up, obsession with cleaning, and enjoyment of "cooking," who knows), I am glad that the world is so much more accepting of people who might be outliers in the gender Bell Curve.

Also, I'm so grateful to live in Austin, where people don't really care what you wear or whether you're made up or whatever.

Now... I had thought of one more thing but can't place it now. Besides, Mal has awakened again, and I don't want to be a distraction. Also, I should probably get sleep. I wouldn't trade my kid or my circumstances for anyone else's, but, dang, I'm ready for him to be able to go to sleep/stay asleep/go back to sleep without assistance. I look forward to seeing how, if at all, this affects our future relationship. I plan to remind him of it often. :D