seeing eye to eye again

Nothing is more maddening to a seasoned mamarazzi like myself when people related to me won’t cooperate when I am trying to take their portrait. Under this Big Top, if mama pulls out the camera, there will be picture taking. This mamarazzi doesn’t ask for eye contact very often because there is so much more magic in the candid…at least in my humble opinion. But when I call out to look this way…my clowns look this way.

Except for Fallon over the last year or two. Fallon is Fallon and if Fallon isn’t feeling having her picture taken, Fallon is not going to. Period. The game of capturing Fallon in a photo has been my PokemonGo. Capturing her making eye contact with the lens has proven to be about as easy as finding Squirtle.

Note, I have not found Squirtle, yet. But I will find and catch that little Pokemon. Mark my words! After all, I managed to catch Fallon.

Truth be told, Fallon actually POSED for this shot and was quite pleased with it too. When I comment that she looked at the camera, she rolls her eyes just a little because she is a big girl. She is a big girl who is FOUR AND A HALF who has cultivated the most amazing garden, paints and draws the most amazing art ALL OF THE TIME, on a daily basis states matter of factly wisest of truths, decided in her infinite wisdom that her mother’s father should from now on be called Papa Papa, and who initiates the most epic FAMILY GROUP HUGS always at the right moment. Of course she looked directly into the lens, Mima! And now, literally every chance I get, I am going to capture this incredible, bright, beautiful child who is just one of my amazing grandchildren because dammit, she, just like her sister is growing up much too fast for me. With my camera I shall slow her down as best as I can.

So yeah, Squirtle, I am coming for you!

grandgirl treats

When your 4 year old grand daughter invites you to sit down you do. You talk about art and unicorns and the fact that she is soon going to school and also that her headband game is super strong today.

Fierce even.

She looks up to agree with you, as 4 year old grand daughters do, and notices your hands…your nails.

Mima, I need to paint your nails.

So you agree.

It’s absolutely true that I could not possibly do a better job than Fallon.

Have I shared with y’all lately how magical grand daughters are?

I’m still not sure how I feel about the fact that they are growing up much too fast.

but if only we all were unicorns

Here under The Big Top, we all love the horses with a sword on their heads who guard all of our hopes and dreams because of course these unicorns are real…as real as little girls. So when Amazon, without prompting, suggests that you want to buy this book

you buy it! Of course you do! A little unicorn who believes in those magical, mystical creatures that are little girls? You buy this book.

And you share it with some of your favorite magical, mystical creatures delighting in the fact that THEY ARE READING IT TO YOU because they are indeed magical, mystical, amazing creatures, these little girls.

Were it not for the reality that I will be REALLY old, I can not wait for when these magical, mystical creatures grow up

and enjoy the many adventures of them doing incredible things like sitting down to break bread with and listen to the thoughts of other magical, mystical people like Brandon Stanton, the founder of Humans of New York.

As for me…well today I managed to win 20 game pieces to play in Safeway’s Monopoly game. Of course not one of them was a winner. Clearly I am not a unicorn. But I am lucky enough to declare that yes, I am related to some of these magical, mystical creatures. Close enough.

sing with me now

Don’t hate. I sing while driving around in the mom-car. All the music. All the time. Pull up alongside me and catch me singing with all my heart and soul you might snicker, point and wave. I don’t care. I’ll likely wave back. I might roll the windows down and invite you to join in.

Why not?

Make a joyful noise with me.

Of course when I am putting on a concert in my car I know I sound A-MA-ZING. The acoustics in the mom-car are THAT good.

Trust me.

But I am not the only one in this circus act who performs car concerts at an intersection near you.

Tears of joy, people…tears of joy.

Sing with us both now…

a dandelion puff

I was a dandelion puff…Some saw the beauty in me and stooped quietly to admire my innocence. Others saw the potential of what I could do for them, so they uprooted me, seeking to shape me around their needs. They blew at my head, scattering my hair from the roots, changing me to suit them. Yet still others saw me as something that was unworthy and needed to be erased.”
― Nicole Bailey-Williams

Look at my backyard right now.

Some see weeds. Fallon sees wishes…wonderful, magical wishes as far as the eye can see. I see a backyard lawn that needs to be mown. I also see itchy eyes and sneezing and me doubling up on Zyrtec. But, yeah, I see me, a dandelion puff. not unlike Nicole Bailey-Williams’ Song Byrd.

Truthfully, I didn’t think much about me, the dandelion puff, as I looked out my kitchen window until I saw this:

And then the words Lady Gaga shared when she posted this picture.

I never thought anyone would ever love me because I felt my body was ruined by my abuser. But he loves the survivor in me…

After trauma that steals and destroys so much of you, it’s easy to believe in your unworthiness; easy to allow others blowing at your head to shape you, change you, direct you to just get over it, damaging you even more…making you see yourself as all the more unloveable, acceptable, unworthy.

Till it happens to you, you won’t know, it won’t be real.

Like Gaga, like those on stage with her last night, like so many others, I stand tall and strong, like a dandelion puff, albeit windblown, but strong as survivors are because love…unconditional love that saw that which is beautiful and strong and perfect within me.

Me, the dandelion puff.

Seeing me taking pictures of all the dandelions in our backyard, my darling husband, the one who loved damaged me for me, mowed the lawn. One might imagine after my brief, emotional moment of clarity that I would be upset that he mowed down all the dandelion puffs but I’m not. They’ll be back standing tall and proud…as survivors do.