biracial parenting in America today

“My father is black and my mother is white. While a proud, graying natural sits atop my father’s head, the genetic crapshoot of their interracial union left my hair absent of his tight curls; left my skin shades lighter. As a result, I floated in this limbo of racial ambiguity that sparked questions of identity for me far too early, and that have lingered far too long. As a child, into adolescence, and even into early adulthood, it left me feeling as other, in a constant search for where I belonged. I did not want that for my children.”

‘Are We Safe?’ In Trump’s America, A Father Worries | Cognoscenti

the To Do List for this 46-year and 364-day-old

Only one more day before I roll into 47 which naturally means I’m thinking about my halfway-there To Do List.  As BrightSide kindly pointed out to Bear recently we’ve pretty much reached the midpoint…his commentary on average life spans and how we’re on the other side of that mountain so utterly horrified Bear, she’ll have fodder for years of counseling.

Don’t say we never did anything for our kids.

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SoCS – it’s an occupational hazard

Occupational hazards abound, though they vary greatly from job to job.  Everything from life threatening to nonsensical to nonsensically life threatening…there are precisely zero occupations that present zero hazards.

Let’s play Name That Occupation.


Q:  Highest risk of death by lion.

A:  Circus lion tamers.  Or safari guides who take ridiculously stupid tourists out into the wild.


Q:  Most likely to experience maiming by oak, pine, fir, or Black and Decker.

A:  Logging workers.


Q:  Highest risk factor for infected paper cuts.

A:  Postal worker or any position in a corporate mailroom.


Q:  Most frequent episodes of getting a contact high.

A:  Home Depot paint counter attendant.


Q:  At greatest risk for contracting a urinary tract infection.

A:  Teachers.  (That’s one they don’t tell you about in college.)


Q:  Highest incidence of hearing loss over time.

A:  Rock concert technicians, airport traffic directors (those orange stick guys on the tarmac), and sound quality experts for Beats headphones.


Q:  Most likely to lose a thumbnail and keep on working.

A:  Construction workers.


Q:  More than 50/50 chance that you’ll be caught in some bizarre meltdown moment and posted to YouTube for viral sharing.

A:  Flight attendant.

Linda’s stream of consciousness post is a weekly treasure.  This week’s prompt is “a word that starts with oc.”

Forever Family: 5 from my Tribe 1/19/18

It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?  So long that I lost my baggie of questions and tossed structure to the wind last night.  It shows.  I think I’ll just edit out all the random dog shenanigans.

5 from my Tribe

One thing in your room you would grab on your way out the door if there’s a fire.  Not that you ever would, because if there’s a fire you’d leave right away.

  • T-man: If I had it, my phone.
  • Bear:  I don’t want to say this on your blog ’cause I’m gonna sound like a baby.
  • me:  Okay, fair enough.
  • BrightSide:  I would pick you up and carry you out.
  • Bear:  Stop it!  I don’t need that sappy romance.  Gracie.  I would pick up Gracie.
  • T-man:  I would pick up Phoebe!
  • me:  Wow…okay…so we’ve got T-man’s phone, Bear’s bromance with Gracie, BrightSide fireman carrying me out the door…
  • BrightSide:  You said if I could pick one thing –
  • Bear:  Mom would pick up Phoebe –
  • me:  And then he’d be fireman carrying both of us out!

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10 things making me do the happy dance this morning.

Life is about celebrating all the things, don’t you think?  Big, little, everywhere in between – if we don’t do the happy dance as often as possible, well, then we’re missing out on a lot of chances to dance.  And I’m all about some dancing.  Just ask my kids.

So I don’t wanna brag, but…

1.  Nine times out of ten I can securely wrap the cord around my hair dryer without hitting myself in the head.  A 90% success rate?  I’ll take that.

2.  It’s been at least six months since I’ve had to induce vomiting in my dog.  Knock on wood.  Seriously, everybody – you know Gracie – knock on wood right now.  Thanks.

3.  I finally learned how to make a hard boiled egg.  Which means there’s hope for anybody in the kitchen.

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wcw – rooted yet wandering

“I never saw a discontented tree. They grip the ground as though they liked it, and though fast rooted they travel about as far as we do. They go wandering forth in all directions with every wind, going and coming like ourselves, traveling with us around the sun two million miles a day, and through space heaven knows how fast and far!”

–  John Muir

gratitude: splish, splash, ahhh…

There’ve been a few things in life that brought me sheer joy.  The kinds of things that drop me to my knees in gratitude, kissing the ground because…well, because why not, it’s something people in the throes of joy do.  Things that swept me off my feet in terms of my word, this is life changing and I will never forget this moment even if I live to be 105.

Finishing our bathroom remodel was one of those moments.

I know, I know…it’s not curing cancer or finding a solution to hunger, but it rocked my world.  There.  I said it.

I fully own that these are first world problems because hey, any indoor plumbing at all, can I get a hell yeah? But finding that moldy and rotting subfloor beneath our shower’s tile was beyond distressing.  There was the psychological factor of omg, how long has it been like this, and how long is it going to take to fix, and how am I gonna live anything resembling my real life while they do.  Then there was the physical trauma – how long had I been breathing crap into my lungs, the illnesses I lived with while they tore out and removed the bathroom materials, how my body reacted when I passed through that space to get something from my closet during demo and construction.

Compared to all that, sharing a bathroom with my 13-year-old son was relatively painless.  Although I don’t know if he’d say the same.

At any rate, after a number of blips and blunders (all of which were fixed by our second contractor, a group I shall forever refer to as The Saviors of Our Master Bath) the remodel was finally complete at the end of November.  Yep, you read that right.  September, October, November, plus those two weeks in August – three and a half months of insanity in our house.  It’s kind of a miracle we all made it to the other side.

But when we did…my word.  I stand in this room now and am blissfully, ridiculously, unbelievably happy.  It is my peaceful space, and I am ever so grateful for it.