Because I’m a writer with a blog and I have a couple of kids, people (women) sometimes ask me why I don’t “mommy blog”. Here’s why: I tend to keep this part of my life for myself (gasp).
Many women will admit (some won’t) that when you become a mother you lose a part of yourself. You also gain a new, different self who’s more sympathetic and nurturing, but you lose the part of you that was just you without anybody else to constantly worry about. It’s a huge freaking adjustment.
Like a lot of Gen Xer’s, I waited until my 30’s to have kids. By then I was firmly rooted in my sense of self. My very free self who liked to stay out too late and take lots of naps. When I had a baby, the options to stay out too late, take lots of naps, and be a selfish asshole were removed. It was time for that to happen anyway. No sweat. But the overhaul of self was unexpected.
I was a person before motherhood. Not a perfect person by any means, but I like to remember those days in little ways. My blog is a “safe place” for me. I say what I want because no one is forced to read it. I don’t write about motherhood here (except this time of course) because I’m a mother ALL THE TIME and here I’m just a struggling writer who spends too much time thinking about that date-rapey episode of Louie and wondering if Lindsay Lohan would like me if we met in real life. Here I don’t have to worry about whether or not my kids are getting enough fruits and veggies (they’re not) or if I’m screwing them up permanently (I am). Here I can just take a deep breath and make fun of Kim Kardashian’s fashion choices.
I’ve tried to get married in my home state twice in the past year. Clearly I do not live in one of the nineteen (and counting) states that offer gays the sanctity of marriage. My partner and I have been together ten years and have two young sons. While I would love to marry the woman of my dreams, I get super pissed off that our state constitution denies that we are a family and prevents our sons from having the protection of two legal parents. We are currently waiting to hear what the federal appeals court says regarding DeBoer vs. Snyder and hail to the moms who filed the lawsuit seeking to protect their family and young children!
I wrote the following poem after our latest failed attempt to get married at the clerk’s office. We want what every other couple in America wants: the right to get married witnessed by friends and family in an overpriced banquet hall with a quasi-decent catered meal. Enjoy!
In the basement
Air thick with sweat and anticipation
Bodies crammed inside on a cold spring day
Heat and clerks run overtime.
Standing room only
Come and get your equal rights
For the next four hours only!
Rang the circus call.
Kids dragged along,
Dressed in smiles and frowns
Play on phones
As they wait.
A wide eyed innocent
Passes out dyed carnations
Not of nature
Next to the store bought cake.
Take a number!
Handed out to the hopeful
Over a series of months
Makes a long morning
“They’re on number thirty now!”
Someone shouts, again.
Boredom punctuated by cheers
Jubilant tearful relatives
Every sort of officiate present
Judge, pastor, Rabbi, Wiccan priestess
Tie all the rainbow colors together.
And just like that
As the judgment was rendered
It is put on hold
The line is too long for some.
Turned out into the cold,
Breathy hope steams from them.
Adrienne Losh is a poet/mother/wife/badass. She won’t stop standing in line for equal rights.
Dear Dr. Neil Clark Warren,
Why are we as a society ignoring the creepy factor of your eHarmony ads? We need to get the grodiness of the eHarmony ads right out in the open. I’m sick of being bombarded with skin-crawling messages meant to be conducive with harmonious love-type feelings.
The one with the goth guy. This guy is obviously a device to distract the viewer from your creepiness. Some old dude plops down across from a woman at some speed dating event to tell her how the cow ate the cabbage and we’re supposed to pretend that’s okay. Oh wait, a goth guy. Now you seem like someone whose car a woman can get into with confidence. Well played, I suppose.
Then there’s the one with your granddaughter. It’s supposed to be cute, I guess. She’s bossing some teacher around about how to date, spouting off statistics about her grandfather’s bigoted dating website. Oh, adorable! Baby’s learning how to support hate very early. Good girl!
And the freaking worst is the ten-year anniversary party where the celebrated couple, who are obviously swingers, sneak off to make-out. No one wants to see a married couple make-out, especially if they’ve been married that long. But their friends burst in and smile as if to say, “Oh, you guys. Making out again!” And then they just stand there, grinning and staring. For someone who thinks gay marriage is wrong, you sure are liberal about swinging.
Dr. Neil Clark Warren, on behalf of TV viewers across the country, please adjust your commercials to something that doesn’t give us the same feeling as when we watch the zombies-eating-innards scenes of The Walking Dead.