Tag Archives: mother and son

I am the Proud Mother …

I am the proud mother of S.M.S.L. He just turned two and is rather awesome. He is a dancer and a mumbler. He’s a picky eater and loves to hang around the house naked from waist down. He seems to have an aptitude for Lego and loves taking selifes.

Yesterday I was planning on going to the Wild Oat to talk about orgasms, and talk about talking to strangers, and talk about a chance encounter with a band from the East coast. I was planning to run there and have a nice healthy sandwich. But things didn’t go down that way.

Yesterday I was the proud mother to grumpy son who would have nothing to do with going to the Wild Oat. Yesterday he needed his mother close. And quiet. In a quiet corner, on a comfy arm chair we talked about panda bears. Then we talked about blue sea lions and green sea turtles. And I felt the warmth of his little body up against mine. And I listened dearly into the silence between the words and felt deep within me how very magnificent those moments were indeed

Conversations about orgasms and foreign bands will always be there. These conversations really never end.

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We Never Dance Alone

I am the proud granddaughter of Juliana Dumayas. She was a smiler and a dancer with a sharp business sense.  She was kind and generous and sensitive. I remember seeing her cry when talking about what matters to her most.  Strong and courageous she was. I wish in this moment I knew her full name to tell you. Or the years she graced this earth. Or had a picture of her as I remember her,  smiling and spiralling with joy and contentment in her eyes. I wonder often where I get my sensibilities from and I think, yep, I am the granddaughter of Juliana Dumayas.  I want to find out more about my grandmother. Like her full name and find some pictures of her and tell you more about her but another time. I tried to find a picture of myself dancing to attach to this post but I  was drawn somehow to this one taken very recently. It’s my legs on the left, and I’m dancing up a storm with my son on his second birthday.   Perhaps an odd choice for this post but it demonstrates to me this sense of lineage. My grandmother is a dancer. I am a dancer. My son is a dancer.  When I’m dead and gone I hope to be remembered fondly as a smiler and a dancer, full of courage and love.  And I hope to be remembered, referenced by this sense of lineage. I am the proud granddaughter of Juliana Dumayas and loving mother to my dear son.  I am a sister. I am an ex-wife. I am a daughter. I am an enemy. I am a friend.  We never dance alone.

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