WINNER sans WEINER
I love hotdogs.
This isn’t about denying myself those delicious nitrates and mechanically separated meats. This IS about my soul need, my emotional longing, the toil and trouble, the GD daily struggle while on this journey to #BOSS, #SUPERHERO, #BADASS, #WINNER status….
….sans the weiner.
Times are evolving. The equality gap between men and women continues to improve. It is no longer the size of a moon crater, or the Grand Canyon; however, the gap- it is still rife with subtle misogyny and condensation. Like the cellulite on my thighs, the lingering detriments have got to go.
Please don’t misconstrue what I am proclaiming. This is not some testicular, XY chromosome beat down. I appreciate men. I am raising a man; a young prince to be a king, and my son is here because of one.
But, in these times that differ so much from the moments that I miraculously survived: I fear for my son. There is the residual male pressure to be “manly”, peer pressure to be sexual earlier than perhaps some of you all were in your youth (Exception: I got detention during Kindergarten recess for kissing a boy I liked. I hope those wild oats didn’t somehow transfer to my son in the womb). There is society pressure to be associated with activities just because of gender. Gavin is confronted by members on his Father’s side who are blatantly antiquated with this “be a man” crap I could just scream.
My son has begun to ask questions about being an adult, being a good human, driving at 16 (yeah right), homosexuality, body hair, and how to make eye contact with a girl without it getting him labeled as a “Stage 5 Clinger”. He asks any one of these and then about what is for dinner in the same sentence.
o Being an adult both sucks and rocks, babe. I didn’t have crow’s feet at 15, I’ll tell you that right now.
o Being a good human is a necessity. Nobody appreciates an “a-hole”. A good human will always attract some really good Karma.
o Driving is a privilege, not an entitlement. Let me repeat that.
o Love is love, Gavin. Just be safe with your heart and your body.
o Body hair is natural, please keep it off the toilet seat.
o Look when you speak, look when you listen. Don’t F up the rotation (partial quote from “Friday”).
o And yes, there is always room for mac n cheese with dinner. And hotdogs.
I sometimes wonder how he feels about being raised by his mother. I hope he realizes that we can YouTube how to shave his face when it comes time. That his mother will be the one to teach him how to drive a manual shift with a clutch (his father can’t even do that). Or we can research the answer to any question that he may have; learn about it logically. (Oh, my HEY-Zeus please make my face stoic when we talk about condoms).
I hope he knows he can be anything he wants to be. No matter what his business is, in his pants.
Does he look at me, embracing the best of what he sees, itemizes the bad to be referenced later in life as “what not to do”?
When he sees what I juggle every week, do I remind him of awesomeness?
Does he ever think to himself that his mother doesn’t let anyone, especially a man, tell her she can’t?
Does he have a deep respect for my tenacity?
Does the fact that I am girl discount me from being awesome and sufficient to teach him the ways of “dude-hood” and of the Jedi?
I freakin’ hope not. I am busting my ass over here for the both of us and the only opinion that counts, besides mine, is his.
There are so many women out there doing this all solo (so much love and respect to you, ladies). I’ve never felt the need to have a man or woman to be complete. Some of you embrace marriage, I’d rather endure dysentery on the Oregon Trail. I know that my independence is an element of my success.
The antiquated mentality of some men, lingering like a bad fart, somehow/sometimes ruins the satisfaction of being a woman in a man’s world.
And that is just it: I am raising a young man that will someday, as an adult recognize chromosomal construct and genital type have nothing to do with success, nor should it take away from equality. He will also remember that I would make a special trip to get mac and cheese and hotdogs if he wanted them with his dinner.
My prince, my opus, my sweet, sweet Gavin…..he is being shaped by a woman. A strong woman who can do anything she wants to be:
………sans the weiner.