I saw her today.

Take that back...I heard her.

Take that back...I heard them.

Her children.

Though, I don't think "children" would be the word she would have used to describe them at the time.

More like "terrorists".

I was in the Christmas section at my local Target buying tape (of all things).

I heard the talking.

Take that back...I heard the screaming.

Not crying.

Talking in "scream".

It was loud, completely unintelligible, and nonstop.

Twins.

Lucky gal.

Twin boys.

Both scream-talking.

I left the Christmas section...meandered over into frozen foods.

I heard them still.

Then they got closer.

I mumbled under by breath, "Shut Up!!"

Then I stopped myself...took it back.

As a mother myself, I should be more understanding.

But I couldn't. It didn't stop.

They stopped. I walked over to the checkout.

Got in line.

Looked up.

There they were.

It started again.

Scream talking.

Unintelligible.

Claw your eyes out, loud.

I saw the mother.

Frazzled beyond belief.

"Sit Down!"

"Be Quiet!"

She tried to speak calmly, but I could feel her about to burst.

And then she did.

Not at the boys...at the cashier.

A sweet old woman who forgot to put the mom's ornaments into a large bag as she had requested.

"I NEED THESE IN A BAG, I SAID!!"

She had broken.

She knew it.

She took a breath...and then spewed out 1,000 apologies simultaneously.

"It's just these kids are driving me crazy."

The cashier understood.

"I know honey. You just have a Merry Christmas."

The cashier gently touched the mom's arm.

"I understand."

We all understood.

She looked back at me with sadness in her eyes.

I nodded and smiled sympathetically..

The "I know. I understand. It's okay" reaction.

She walked away. The boys were still screaming.

"That woman is a saint." I said to the cashier.

"Yes, she is" she replied.

I walked out to the parking lot.

Mom was loading the van with her purchases. The hatch-back was open...one of the boys was halfway crawled into the trunk.

Still screaming. Both of them.

I gave her another sympathy smile and nod.

What else could I do?

Now that I think about...she probably could have used a hug.

XOXO

Laurel

I'd like to start out by apologizing for the lapse in blog posts.
My new camera battery died...and the charger stopped working.
They call this the perfect storm.
Now that I'm excited about infusing semi-nice pictures into my blog posts, it didn't feel right to post something without including a few.
We are back in the game.

When I was in college, I took a class my senior year.
Let me clarify...I took many classes my senior year, but the funny thing about senior year in college is that is sometimes filled with what I like to refer to as "filler classes".
You have to hit a certain number of credits to graduate.
Some people fill them with phy-ed classes.
I was never that girl.
My filler class...Human Sexuality.
Yes.
It was awesome.
My professor was an older woman with just enough bite to keep you on your toes.
I still remember when I referred to a breast as a "boob" and she went off on a 10 minute tangent about the degrading manner in which the term "boob" was created.
I learned my lesson.
One of the most unique experiences I participated in during that class was a section about how we create gender in our society.
What makes a boy...and what makes a girl.
Not the physical stuff.
The stuff WE as a society create.
We took a field trip to Toys R Us.
(I told you it was an awesome class).
We had to go throughout the store and write observations of how we saw gender creation reflected in the toys.
It was eye-opening.
Boys: Tools, Action Figures, Weapons, Building.."Man Stuff"
Girls: Dolls, Toy cleaning supplies, Make-up, Dresses, Kitchen sets.
We'll come back to the last item on the "girls" list.
It amazed me how society creates these ideas of what girls & boys are supposed to like.
They might not be drawn to the items we assign, but they MUST play with them or, heaven forbid, they might get confused about the gender. Maybe boys will think they're girls? Maybe the toys we purchase them will make them gay?
I remember thinking to myself that I would never allow societies definition of boy versus girl toys inflitrate my childrens' realm of reality.

When Steven and I went down our list of items to buy MD for Christmas, I brought up a kitchen set.
Yes, they are generally for girls...but it's not his fault that he didn't have an older sister who would get the kitchen set first. Why should he be deprived of a kitchen set because he's a boy?
We decided we'd either get him a kitchen set or a tool bench.
Hmmm..."boy toy" or "girl toy" for our little man.
We settled on a kitchen set. 
Fuck the norm.

I managed to find a kitchen set that matched our kitchen.
(I know...OCD anybody?) 
It's red & beige, so it's not "girlie", but it came with all the fixin's of a good kitchen time, and even some plastic food (for the dogs to chew up).

We decided to give it to him before Christmas.
There was a very good reason for this.
It seems the Christmas Bug bit me pretty hard this year...and to avoid little MD's senses going in to complete overload on Christmas morning with the sight of everything his crazed parents purchased him...we'd give him the set early.
It's winter, and "inside play" is all we have.
We needed to spice things up.
Needless to say, it's a huge hit!

MD's favorite thing to "cook" is coffee.
He stirs the pot just like his mommy stirs her cup (or 3) every morning.
Did I mention it came with a chef's hat & apron
(*thank you black friday gods*)

XOXO
Laurel