Tag Archives: self-confidence

To Raise a Little Man


So I suppose it’s about time for the big gender reveal….. I am actually a man.

Ha, just kidding. I am all woman. Except for the little 15 ounces growing in my belly.

Yes, my baby is a boy. YAY! A boy is what I’ve always wanted. But you know what they say: be careful what you wish for.

While the ultrasound technician was roaming around for the evidence of a teeny tiny penis on my baby, I was mainly ecstatic about the fact that he had two arms and legs. I know that seems like kind of a minor concern when there is the question of gender, but, ya know. It’s a little bit easier to do things with all your appendages. Anyhoo, the Babe was in a pose that could either mean he is ready to be a Prima Ballerina, or he’s just waiting to hold up his future NASCAR trophy. I’m not quite sure which thought is more disturbing to me.

When the technician pointed out his little testes, I had mixed feelings of elation and slight disappointment. ‘Tis true I wanted a boy, and I still do, but the idea of such absence of sparkles and ruffles in my future child’s life gave me pause. The only hope is that he may one day be a famous drag queen, because we know then there will be sequins and makeup aplenty.

After my appointment, I got to thinking about the problems I may have in raising a little man. (Other than the fact that my Rockstar wants to name him Vince, after Vince Neil of Motley Crue- a problem which need be addressed another day.)

What do I know about being a man? My coworker insists I am quite manly, indeed, so I shouldn’t have a problem, but I believe he only thinks so because of my appreciation for much sex, a subject we have talked about at great length. Honestly, I’m not quite sure why else he would find me masculine, unless my cursing sailor’s mouth convinced him. Who knows….

What I DO know is that I want my boy to read, and read a lot. I realized that other than blogland, there has been quite an absence of men that read in my actual real life. Sure, here and there, a male that loves books as much as I do has reared his head, but it’s been a disturbingly rare phenomena, like Loch Ness monster sightings. I’ve gone away wondering if I actually saw what I saw, kinda thing. I myself do not find reading to be a solely feminine act, but, you must admit, it doesn’t exactly go with beer and hot wings.

Aside from that, I want my son to be sensitive. Not meaning I want every drop of rain and flower petal to bring him to tears, but that if he sees someone in pain, or having a bad day, he will take notice, and perhaps try to better that person’s situation. Along with that, I want him to treat women like princesses, even though by the time he is old enough to think about girls, most of them will probably be sluts and/ or lesbians (in which case, he might get his ass kicked if he tries to treat them like princesses.. All girls should be made to feel special, even if they are only subpar.

I want him to have self-confidence, but not the yucky jock kind. I mean the kind that will allow him to not be bothered when his mother grows out his hair and people tease him for looking like a girl. The kind that allows him to be proud of himself, and teach others to also be proud of themselves.

If he marries, I want him to have at least a slight interest in planning his own wedding someday, whether it be to a girl or a boy. We all know the best boys are the ones that take an active role in such things, and are generally worshipped among women.

If he doesn’t marry, I want him to be happy in whatever life he chooses, and to have many adventures.

I want him to say what he means, and mean what he says, and not be afraid to say what it is that needs to be said, but know when to stay silent.

I want him to know it’s perfectly ok for him to like Barbie dolls, and to admire their exaggerated feminine features, but to realize that real women that look nothing like Barbie dolls are also desirable. I also want him to like dinosaurs, and realize they are the coolest creatures ever to live. (Besides for mermaids and unicorns.)

I want him to be just a little bonkers, because all the best people are.

I honestly don’t know how I will help my son to become this man I want him to be; luckily, I may be able to help him out in the bonkers department.

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Filed under Beauty, Books, Children, Family, Humor, Life, Love, Uncategorized

You Are Beautiful


Fitting rooms are death.

As in, every time I enter a fitting room,

I die a little bit inside

when I look in the mirror.

This dress would look great!

If it wasn’t on me.

I think to myself.

It doesn’t seem to matter

that I flaunt a pair of plentiful breasts,

the sort of which many women would pay dearly for.

Or that my legs,

though considerably short,

are toned from hours and hours of

wearing heels,

or waiting on tables.

I climb out of the dress,

which is rather difficult

since I forced the zipper up

in hopes of making it fit.

I shake my head and vow

that I will not be undone by an

inanimate piece of fabric.

I dress in my own not-quite-so-fabulous attire;

IĀ face myself once again in the mirror,

and repeat to the refection there

the words many men have proven to be true,

the words friends that only tell the truth have spoken,

the words I remind myself that I believe:

“You are beautiful.”

 

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Filed under Beauty, Fashion, Friendship, Humor, Life, Poem, Poetry, short story, Uncategorized