Does It Look Like A Vagina To You?

We'd overcome some very hard times together, she and I.

My daughter ran away at 16. "It's not you momma." she tried to assure me. "It's me. I wanna know more, see things, be free." I begged her to stay in school - graduate - become something. "I will momma, I will become me." So she left. To another state with a particular "boytoy" that I did not approve of. He was 21, out of prison, but on parole. He had just blown his parole, and my daughter had a car. Interesting timing for finding herself, I thought. It took 5 months before she faced the reality that she needed to come home. She had put herself in harms way and found the courage to tell me she was defeated, and she needed me. The police had found out about boytoys blown parole and she found herself alone early on, with a group of not so nice people. (Hmmm now just how in the world did they find that out I wonder? ) Her car was broke down. She had no money, and didn't want to "earn" any the way her new friends were "earning" thier money. I thank God often for her homecoming.

Time jumping.

Jump 2-1/2 years forward, and my daughter is married and pregnant. She decides she wants that diploma and goes to school everyday. I didn't push or prod. I just made the statement one day that she and hubby could live with me if she finished High School. I helped her when I was asked, and to my credit, never nagged her. I supported her, quietly. Well that child of mine walked across the stage that evening in June and took that diploma, held it over her head and screamed out, "I DID IT!" Her cheering section could have been heard in the next town for the noise we made for her. Her husband and son waited at the edge of the stage for her. There has never been a day in her life that she made me more proud to be her mother as she did that day, at that moment. I was the only one who knew what it took for her to get to that moment. I knew where she had been, and what she had lived through to be holding that diploma.

If you could have anything you wanted, what would you choose?

So I offered her a gift of accomplishment. She could have whatever it was that she alone desired. Not for the baby, not for her husband, not for her family, but something she alone desired. She took a week to decide that she wanted a tattoo. Not one but two. She came to me and said, "Momma, we have been through hell and back together, and I want something to commemorate that we are back - together - and we are good - together."

"Through hell and back" - the design.

I told her design them, make them tasteful and not to large. Remember I told her I am a teacher. Tasteful. And she did. Mine is a heart with wings and a halo. Her's is a heart with flames. She calls the two of them as a set "Through Hell And Back" I wear my permanent reminder of the love we share on my left hand. I will carry it there through eternity - proudly.

The meat of the question I posed.

So I have had this tattoo for over 2 school seasons. This year before I get children in my classroom, a parent calls my Education Supervisor. Tells her that she doesn't want her child in my class because I have this "inappropriate" tattoo on my hand. ED Super asks parent what it about this tattoo that is so inappropriate.

Parent responds with - "It's a female vagina!" (Duh! Is there any other kind?)

I drove to parents home to show her my tattoo up close and personal.

So the question I pose to you, to everyone out in this blogisphere, is quite simple -

Does it look like a vagina to you?

love me later ~ tj

Chiroptera - AGAIN

I need to start this a few days ago, so you understand why my grandson was with me in the kitchen alone on a Thursday night...

It's nothing ... really.

I had a little medical issue on Wednesday. My heart was racing, I was having palpitations, sweating and flushed. I was getting a tad confused. I was scared. It happened on and off all day and by 2:00 in the afternoon, I left work and took myself to the hospital. I was strapped to monitors, injected with IV's, oxygen forced up my nose. Then my daughter called.

Daughter: "Whatcha doing momma?"

Me: "Just laying down, thinking of taking a nap."

Daughter: "At work Momma?"

Me: "I'm not at work right now, I took the rest of the day off work."

Daughter: "Why is that momma? Where are you?"

Me: "In the hospital, I'm sorta tangled up in IV's and wires, this air thing in my nose is annoying me."

Daughter: "I'll call you right back!"

I did take a nap. About an hour later my precious daughter walked in the room. I filled her in on my day. She was white with worry. I assured her there is nothing to worry about, so far the tests are all good.

Daughter: "Momma, I tell you what, I'm so mad at with you right now, I could spit nails. You call me when you have a cold, but you let this slide by?"

Me: "Sorry. I was gonna call if there was something wrong with me."

Daughter: "There is...."

Me: "I mean with my heart."

The verdict is in...I am normal.

Nothing could be found that was abnormal. I was sent home with a heart monitor strapped to my chest for 24 hours. My daughter drove me home. She called my mom to come get her, she wanted to stay and needed to go get the baby. Then the hospital called me. You need to come back to the hospital tonight, they told me. There was something wrong with my heart, but it wasn't my heart that started it. As is turned out, my potassium was so low it interfered with my heart. Two huge potassium pills later and I was good to go. My daughter wasn't convinced. She remained glued to me since Wednesday afternoon. I really am okay. Thank God it was an easy fix.

It's difficult walking with children glued to me.

So I went through my next day at work, with my grandson and daughter by my side, making sure I wasn't going to die. I didn't and we had fun. I was back at the hospital after 5:00 p.m. to get the monitor off. Then we came home, ate dinner and played. Booger loves my red broom. He loves to "clean" my kitchen. He doesn't let it go when he's here. Later in the evening my daughter went to the store for milk. She left me and Booger in the kitchen. I was drinking coffee and the Boog was in his highchair having chocolate milk and Ritz crackers. The broom propped next to his highchair. Then out of the depths of hell came the sound I know I dread. . .

"Wha-pa wha-pa, wha-pa ee-ee-ee"

The broom dance begins at 9:30 on Thursday night.

Three thoughts ran through my head simultaneously.

1.) RUN!

2.) Don't scare the Boog.

3.) OH SHIT OH SHIT Oh Shit Oh Shit oh shit oh shit ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit!!!

I snatched up the broom, did the door dance, and ran to stand guard over the Boog. My thoughts were fierce, "I dare you motherfucker, to come near him." The bat swooped by us and I crouched down swinging the broom over my head. It flew into the living room, circled and flew back. I gripped the broom tighter and swung it. The bat went into the laundry room. I snatched the baby out of the high chair and ran outside. I stood waiting for my daughter. This was not the night for her to go visiting!

The skeeters were biting him, he didn't want to be outside. He wanted to be inside with Ritz crackers and chocolate milk. Shit! After about 15 minutes, I took him inside. I put him back in the highchair. I did this with hairs standing straight up on the back of my neck, goose bumps running tracks around my body. I sat, made high squeaky baby-talk to him. Boog just looked at me confused. He didn't like the "Granny Broom Dance" I had performed for him. The crackers caught his attention, and then...."Wha-pa wha-pa, wha-pa ee-ee-ee" ... it was back. I ducked and covered the Boog. I swung the broom and out of the corner of my I saw it fly out the door!

VICTORY WAS MINE!!!

Oh, I bragged to my daughter when she walked in, milk in hand. I called my mom who shared in my victory. Sweet victory that took an 18 month old baby to help me overcome a deep seeded fear. I guess my deep seeded need to protect overpowered the fear of the winged devil.

Ding Dong the bat was gone, the wicked bat, the ungodly bat.. .

I went to sleep with a smile on my face.

love me later~tj

I saw a skeleton and then I started to cry.

The lady poured some kind of sticky syrup all over her belly.

Daughter: "It's Coooold".

Lady: "Sorry".

Me: "Sit still so she can get on with the show".

Daughter: "BUT IT'S COLD!"

Brody: "oohmagaayeda"

The lady powered up the machine.

Me: "I can't stand this".

Daughter: "Me either, it's still cooooold and sorta goopy feeling".

Me: "Becca, Please sit still so she can get on with the show"

Me: "Brody honey, don't eat that cord".

Me "Not that one either".

Me: Handing him a cracker "Eat this".

Brody: "oohmagaayeda".

The lady poised the handle over her belly.

Me: "Oh my lord I can't take it any longer, can you tell yet?"

Lady: "No".

Me: "WILL YOU PLEASE sit still so she can get on with the show"

Daughter: "Why exactly did I bring you here mommy?"

Me: "So you wouldn't have to walk".

Daughter: "Well there is that".

Daughter: "Yow, jeez I need to pee".

Brody: "PeePeePeePeePeePeePeePeePee".

Me: "Jeez Becca, now look what you taught him to say".

The lady flicked on the screen.

Daughter: "There now you happy mommy?"

Me: "No, can she tell me yet?"

Lady: "No".

Me "Oh Sweet Jesus, Is That Her Heart??"

Lady: "You want it to be a girl?"

Me: "Hell Yeah".

Brody: "hellhellhellhellhellHELLhellhell".

Daughter: "Jeez Mommy, now look what you taught him to say".

A recognizable body part came onto the screen.

Not a sound in the room. Then ...

Daughter: "Oh, my gosh".

Me: "Oh my gosh".

Lady: "It's pretty amazing isn't it?"

Brody: "Gossgossgossgossgossgossgoss".

Then ...

Me: "It's her face! Ohhhhhh loooooooook!"

Daughter: "It looks like you mommy".

Me: Through tears and snuffles, "It looks like a skull".

Lady: "It is, I need measurements".

Me: "Can you look for the rumpus?"

Lady: "We have a long time, I need a lot of measurements".

Lady: "What's a rumpus?"

Me: "It's her butt".

Brody: "buttbuttbuttbuttbuttbuttbuttbutt".

Daughter: "MOMMY!"

What seemed like an eternity later....

Me: "Boog, please eat the crackers, not the couch cushion, couches are for sitting not eating".

Brody: "Numnumnumnumnumnum".

Daughter: "You said the E-A-T word".

Me: "Brody lets look at the baby".

Brody: "BaybeeBaybeeBaybeeBaybee".

Lady: "Okay here's what you came to see Grandma".

The tiniest of full moons came into view. I stared in wonderment and awe. There are no words I can say that puts into perspective what I saw last Wednesday. She is most defiantly a she. I saw it myself through the miracle of science and technology, I was able to look inside my daughter's womb and see my tiny granddaughter. I saw her little heart, and cried when the Lady turned on the sound. I saw a perfect little foot come into view. Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. A button nose. A mouth that sucks a thumb. She is in every way perfect and healthy, with the Lady's disclaimer, "We can't see all birth defects, but from everything gathered she appears right on schedule". I won't be able to hold her for another 4 months. The Lady took a photo of her for us. The photo depicts a golden dolls face. A three dimensional eerily beautiful photo of my unborn granddaughter. She is perfect. My daughter's tiny little daughter.

Cloey Jo.

and I smile through tears of joy and awe and relief.....

love me later ~ tj