March goodness

It’s been a good week.

Obviously a good week because it was my birthday and because it is March and March is consistently a good time for so many reasons…including the fact that it is my birthday.

A birthday my favorite son forgot. Yes. He. Did. He’s still my favorite son.

My favorite son who just so happens to have some pretty good taste in music as he introduces me to his latest discovery. Yes, he asked me if I had ever heard of Radiohead…as we were together listening to Radiohead.

It was a good week to honor the strong women that my darling husband and I have raised. I can’t imagine that there will ever come a day where I am not in awe that these humans share my DNA…mine!

It’s the perfect time to save computer-simulated lives…

and wonder where the hell is the computer-simulated code team already. Next week is my date with the mannikin. I am certain that there will be dirty talk.

It’s the perfect time to warm your bare toes in the sunshine…and ignore the weeds…or, better yet, watch your darling husband and favorite son pull the weeds whilst warming your toes in the March sunshine.

It’s also the perfect time to drive around the Valley with the roof open …allergies be damned.

Oh, and let’s not forget Daylight Saving Time because, in spite of everything wrong with Daylight Saving Time, turning the clocks ahead one hour means after dinner walks with views like this. It also means that I am back in the same time zone as darling daughter #4.

For me, March is good, so very good.

Only those with tenacity can march forward in March. ~ Ernest Agyemang Yeboah

 

a mom, like me

I met a lovely woman last night in my neighborhood Starbucks. She, killing time while her kids were at swim practice. Me, waiting for a meeting at my neighborhood Starbucks. I smiled at her when our eyes met because since November, I have resolved to reach out with a kind smile.

She smiled back and more. Her name, she tells me is Fatma. She’s Muslim, she tells me; not that I could not have guessed by the hijab she wore. We talked of many things in a very short period of time – our families, our hometowns, the election and life now after the election.

Is it a political meeting you are here for, she asks me. Yes, I answer and I invite her to sit with me until it was time for her to pick up her kids.

So she did. She sat down next me. The two of us…moms…women.

I embrace the label of bad feminist because I am human. I am messy. I’m not trying to be an example. I am not trying to be perfect. I am not trying to say I have all the answers. I am not trying to say I’m right. I am just trying — trying to support what I believe in, trying to do some good in this world, trying to make some noise with my writing while also being myself.

~ Roxanne Gay