blooming

g-y-p-s-ys:

camelmilk:

agrund:

kordura:

scriptures:

(via liketheuniverse)

omg

(via galacticmeadows)

thedaddycomplex:

Super. Awesome. Post.

My wife and I have had a similar conversation about how we would react if either (or both) of our boys came to us and said they are gay. We both said we’d probably do exactly what these parents did.

getstooobsessed:

“Mommy, they are just like me.” 

My oldest son is six years old and in love for the first time.  He is in love with Blaine from Glee. 

For those who don’t know Blaine is a boy…a gay boy, the boyfriend of one of the main characters, Kurt.

This isn’t a ‘he thinks Blaine is really cool’ kind of love.  It is a mooning at a picture of Blaine’s face for a half hour followed by a wistful “He’s so pretty” kind of love.

He loves the episode where two boys kiss.  My son will call people in from other parts of the house to make sure they don’t miss his ‘favorite part.’  He’s been known to rewind it and watch it over again…and force other to, as well, if he doesn’t think people have been paying enough attention.

This infatuation doesn’t bother me or his father.  We live in a very hip-liberal neighborhood, many of our friends are gay, and idea of having a gay son isn’t something that bothers either of us.  Our son is going to be who he is, and it is our job to love him.  End of story.

He is also six.  Six year olds get obsessed with all kinds of things.  This might not mean anything at all.  We always joke that he’s either gay, or we have the best blackmail material in the history of mankind when he’s a 16 year old straight boy. (Take that naked bath time pictures!)

Then the other day we were traveling across the state listening to the Warblers album (of course), and in the middle of Candles, my son pipes up from the back seat.

“Mommy, Kurt and Blaine are boyfriends.”

“Yes, they are,” I affirm.

“They don’t like kissing girls.  They just kiss boys.”

“That’s true.”

“Mommy, they are just like me.”

“That’s great, baby.  You know I love you no matter what?”

“I know…” I could hear him rolling his eyes at me.

When we got home I recapped this conversation to his Dad, and we stood simply looking into each other’s eyes for a moment.  Then we smiled.

“So if at 16 he wants to make a big announcement at the dinner table, we can say ‘You told us when you were six.  Pass the carrots’ and he’ll be disappointed we stole his big dramatic moment,” my husband says with a laugh and hugs me.

Only time will tell if my son is gay, but if he is I am glad he’s mine.  I am glad he has been born into our family.  A family full of people who will love and accept him.  People who will never want him to change.  With parents who will look forward to dancing at his wedding.

And I have to admit, Blaine would be a really cute son-in-law.

Ditto. I think about my boys telling us they are gay and I love how these parents live what I hope to live as a parent “love no matter what.”

mammalingo:

Do you know those articles and studies that come out around Mother’s Day about the “value” of a mom? They have headlines like, “What’s Your Mom Really Worth?” and “The Price of Mom.” They’re all, in my opinion, really annoying. Just the list of job responsibilities the studies include — whether you stay at home, work at home, work out of the home, work on top of the home, whatever — bug me. Like, why are these economists making the assumption that I clean my house and feed my kids? And then, of course, there’s the part about trying to put a dollar figure on our worth. I mean, maybe it’s because all of the figures I’ve seen are insultingly low, but isn’t being a mom one of those MasterCard-commercial “priceless” kind of things? 

Anyway… my son just looked up at the sky and gasped. He gasped. I asked him what it was, and he told me that he saw a cloud that looked exactly like a “rabbit with a dinosaur head.” 

Hey economists, I just got paid. 

(Photo by Krish Dulal, Creative Commons Share-Alike license.)

“hey economists, I just got paid.” You tell it!

libraryofmaternalnagging:

Thanks quachout.

I want you to know what it is like to be an artist. Especially if you choose to make it your profession.

Too true. Though I might have to concede that my taste was always better than my ability. Perhaps I should have pushed beyond as this suggests, but the ideas in my brain never could translate to paper - with a pen or a brush. It is still great advice for anyone with a creative mind. And more than a bit of good inspiration if you’ve given up. Go. Create. I will save this advice for my children.

thedaddycomplex:

Each night when I come home from work, my boys run up and give me a hug. That simple act alone vanquishes the negativity of my day. My sustenance, my blood, my breath — all exist in their arms wrapped around me.

Indeed

So beautiful! And I couldn’t agree more. Here’s to amazing daddy dudes!

westernmom-easternworld:

Yesterday I caught the munchkin trying to put on Daddy’s shoes while my husband was getting ready for work. Is there anything cuter?

I find it perfect. If there anyone in the world that I wish my son will grow up be like, it’s my husband. Those are some big shoes to fill kid, but I have no doubt that even the greatness that is your father will one day be shadowed by your own impact on this world.

Nothing turns a sweet sick toddler into a fist fulla dynamite like taking a conference call from home!

I love when I get little glimpses of home in the midst of work chaos. It helps reset my stress levels or annoyance levels. And yes, he gets a car for poopy in the potty. Girl’s gotta do…