The Love of a Woman

There's something to be said about the way that a woman loves another woman, and I'm not talking locker-room talk amongst men.

I'm talking about the kind of love that really does endure through all; when I speak of some of the greatest loves of my life, beyond my children, they are most likely women.

Women who I've shared countless laughs with, fought with, cried with, dieted and cheated on diets with, women who I can look at for one second and know exactly what they are thinking, no matter what they are saying.

Women who curl up in my king size bed with me because some nights, being alone really is nearly unbearable and you just need someone there to sleep beside you. Women who would instantly come running without hesitation if you called. Women who have picked me up, women who have laughed with me and cried with me and women who have jumped into cars in the midst of sleet two hours away and who continue driving, even though the windshield wiper is broken and they have to hang their head out the window to see, because they just knew from the tone of my voice that I was breaking in incredible ways.

Women who shared a twin bed with me for years because there were only so many hours in a day, and my room happened to be the one that was located in the basement, making sneaking in much easier.

Women who I fought over socks and bathroom time with, but who, when it was the bottom of the ninth and you needed a sacrifice bunt so you could score, bunted for you. Women for whom you would actually do bodily harm to another upon for making them cry. Women that you name your kids after.

Women for whom you'd hop on a plane and fly cross-country on the anniversary of September 11th, then drive them home for 28 hours straight because they woke up one morning and couldn't live their lives anymore. Women that help you pack up and move into your home in sleet and snow and sleep on couch cushions with you because your bed isn't there yet. Women who take five hours to help you assemble a swing, then when you realize that you've done it backwards, help you disassemble and start over again.

Women that you love dearly, but that somehow you've lost. Women that despite your goodbyes or their goodbyes or broken hearts you'll love loyally until the day that you die, even if you never see them again. Women who try to mend bridges that they didn't even know existed, and when it fails, wake up and try again.

Women who meet you and take you to dinner and then pay your babysitter for you. Women who make you want to be a better person, because they are the most amazing person you've met, and if you could be half the person they are, you'd be doing alright. Women who tell you they will raise your child as their own if a day came that your children were without you.

Women who know your greatest flaws, but would unleash the gates of Hell if anyone dared to discuss those parts about you. Women who know why you hide behind a face with no makeup and flip-flops, and the same women who tell you to give up the hiding routine, because really, it's pathetic, and put on some eye-liner, because someday, a boy that you actually like is going to look at you, and you'll want to be ready for that.

Women who would die for your children, women who forgive you for giving them their birthday present from March to them in July, women who keep your secrets and hold your hand when you need it, but kick your ass when you need it too. Women whose children you consider your own, women whose lovers doors you knock on at three in the morning because someone else's car is in their driveway.

These amazing women have given me so much; taught me so much; loved me so much. My life just wouldn't be the same if I didn't know the love of a woman.

When The Queens Are Away

Tequila? Check

Corona? Check

Dancing shoes? Check

Girlfriends who accept drunk singing? Check

Somewhere to eat hash browns at 2:30 a.m.? Check

Soul sister to help you change your sheets at 4:00 a.m.? Check

Extra-strength ibuprofen? Check

Regrets over being a mom serving the queens instead of a rock star? None.

This One's For the Kids

Dear Faithful Readers,

Thanks for providing the Servant with some sense of self-worth by visiting her daily. I'm glad she can find some sort of adoring audience somewhere; Lord knows it ain't happening around the castle. History has proven that providing the lower classes with empowering things such as self-esteem and hope only results in nasty uprisings later, so we'll be avoiding encouraging anything but indentured servitude around here.

Any-whooo, this post is for your kids, so if you could please just let them enjoy my ramblings, I'd greatly appreciate it.



Hey Fellow Children Neglected by Bloggers that Pose as Parents,

I've recently made a couple of discoveries that I thought I might share with you. I know that you'll want to toss yourself at my perfectly beautiful feet for the wisdom that I am about to impart upon you, however, I feel that in the matter of full disclosure, I must note that upon more than one occasion this month, I shit in the tub, so while societies standard definition of "brilliant" may not necessarily apply to me, we're young, we can define it as we see fit.

The above photo of myself was taken by my personal servant, also known as my mother. She was a tad stunned to open my bedroom door and find me not in my bed, but rather, perched upon my dresser, entertaining myself with the amazing things my face can do. She failed to find the humor in the situation and proceeded to strip my bedroom of any items except my dresser (which I can no longer climb, since I have no stools, chairs or tables left), two rugs, and my bed. (Side note: do any of you possess the number to Child Protective Services?)

After her little furniture moving stunt, she tucked me back in, and I proceeded to get out of bed, turn on the bedroom light, and empty the contents of my dresser upon the floor. Upon discovering this scene, she got a tad hysterical, which works well for me, after all, surely you're aware that keeping your parents on the constant verge of exhaustion and total mental breakdown can only work to your benefit.

Anyway, back to the story, kiddo's. So this entire "boundaries and rules" thing was getting to be a bit much. Then, in the midst of my darkened bedroom there shone a bright light. Simply do something to really get her attention.

I chose to quit breathing while sleeping, get a little RSV diagnosis to boot, just to be sure that all my bases were covered. From these small acts, the following results have occurred:

1.) Instead of having to go through the futile motions of developing healthy sleep habits, I now get to go to sleep with the Servant, who cannot sleep (remember: exhaustion is our friend) for she is worried that once again, I'll quit breathing. Apparently it brings back very nasty memories from my youth when I quit breathing on a more regular basis. Might I note that it at least gives her time to make up for all of the work she's been bitching about missing.

2.) I was placed on sick leave from my day care, thereby guaranteeing that I would be receiving personal attention on a daily basis from those that are smart enough to love me to death. The Servant is scrambling over this one; apparently trying to arrange alternate day care is a bitch and has rendered her almost insane. Just when she thinks her bases are covered, boom, another plan falls through. This keeping the balls in the air thing serves as an additional tool in exhausting the Servant, and also isolates her from most human contact, thereby making her very malleable to my evil ways.

3.) Because the Servant is now up to her ass in alligators and must devote approximately 18 hours daily for the next 10 days to work, I am at liberty to watch Dora repetitively, as well as consume as much ice cream as I want, as it silences my otherwise constant whining.

4.) I get to attend a Sleep Study, during which people will be focused solely upon me and my stellar ability to sustain myself for weeks at a time upon several three minute long cat naps. The Servant is totally geeked about this; she loves hospitals. (hahahaha)

I know, you are stunned by my brilliance. Please send $10 (cash only) to me, and I'll mail you a personalized script for your Personal Empowerment Stunt.

Ciao,
Little A
(That's "Queen Little A" to you servants out there)

A Day in the Life

Meanwhile, back at the palace, Queen Little A had to take a rest after thwarting an uprising of the Servant by squishing her with her big toe.

Denied

Dear Mom,

Thank you for your response to our previous denial of your vacation request, and for pointing out that our decision seemed unfair. In the future, if you want your requests to bear more weight, you might consider not writing them on the backs of magazines which bear margarita stains.

When we stated that "due to the high number of vacation applications at this time, we are sorry to inform you that your request has been denied" what we really meant was that we were laughing our asses off so hard that we couldn't think of anything better to say. Please accept this denial which has concise reasons as to why your whining affects us in the least. (And by that, we mean, not at all)

1.) Just one day to sleep in: This "sleeping in" thing is highly over-rated, and is the core of laziness. One day of this sleeping in stuff, and you'll be tempted to do it repeatedly. We're doing this for your own good. Besides, Barney is on very early in the morning.

2.) One day without a diaper to change: Please. You love looking at Little A's bootie, poop or no poop. We all know it.

3.) One day without laundry to do: So that you realize that we are trying to be accommodating to you, you can feel free to not do laundry any day that you so choose. Just be sure to double up the following day. Also, could you be a little quicker with the sock pairing? The pile of socks in the spare laundry basket that you dig through each morning in a panic is getting old. Instead of painting your toe nails (let's face it, who is going to see them?) a much more productive use of your time would be pairing those socks and them putting them away for us.

4.) A pile of books to read through at leisure between cocktails: This request would vary from your average day how?

Thank you again for your request. We do enjoy hearing from those who serve us, even if it is just for comic relief.

The A's