Why is there underwear in my face?

In keeping with this week’s theme, “Reality and Afraid,” I’m sharing another favorite post from way back.

One day at the high school…

I’ve been substitute teaching four years. During my tenure I’ve noticed, as I’m sure many of you have, that a warm-weather phenomenon has been affecting our schools. Now if you’ll humor (along with) me, I’m going to tighten my brassier straps and adjust my mom sorting hat…

As parents of Generation txt’ers, we’re exceptionally busy. We’ve produced 2.1 offspring who run us ragged. We do daily battle to arm them with the latest technology. We toil endlessly to swaddle them in brand names and expensive athletic socks. Appearance goes a long way toward their shades of happiness.

Our children’s desire for ‘peer acceptance’ can wear us out. After a long day of caring, we parents are frazzled. In fact, we’re so exhausted that some mornings we can’t even muster up the words, “Wait, you’re not really going to school naked are you?” (Of course I exaggerate, some students are partially clad and others remember to wear clothes.)

It certainly would explain, when I was sitting beside a student  (I was a one-on-one sub that day) I turned to find a pair of underwear in my face. The student with the low pants (he must not have realized they were the wrong size when he purchased them) was standing with his back to me while conversing with a fellow student.

Perhaps there could be a kindly worded, student pamphlet espousing reminders like: Dear young ladies, your breasts won’t run away if you can’t see them. Rest assured they will still be there when the school day is over. So cover your breasts while learning. Save them for later, when you’ll really need them. Dear young men, if you stop looking at the breasts long enough, perhaps you’ll realize your pants have fallen down.

In Pearls

In Pearls

Created months ago…

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“Mom, why did I have to color a vagina?”

This post was originally published in March 2014. It’s one of my favorites. The big son is now 14, just hit 6′ and is still growing…

The conversation that day…

The big son just got home from Middle School. We usually talk about how the day went. He’s a thirteen-year-old, good natured kid. He does well in school and to the best of my knowledge has never been in trouble, except for one Pre-k incident, when Miss L told him to sit at his desk because he was giggling, then he cried the rest of the day. The big son is currently taking an accelerated Living Environment class. His class recently entered deep into the mysteries of the reproductive chapter.

The big son asks in quite a frustrated tone, “Mom, why did I have to color a vagina?”

Me, “What colors did you have to color the vagina?” I’m trying not too laugh because he’s really quite annoyed.

Big Son, “Does it matter?”

Me, “That depends.” I’m stifling giggles as we continue conversing.

Big Son, “We had to color the vagina-red, the uterus-orange, the fallopian tubes; also know as the oviduct-yellow, the ovaries-blue-” Big son flashes his colored vagina pictures.

Me, “Wow, I don’t even remember all those parts,” I look down at my pelvis, “geez, I hope everything is still in there that’s supposed to be.”

“MOM!”

“Oh, c’mon I’m just kidding.” I look at the vagina picture the big son is shaking in his hand and think, wow, all the worrying I did when he was little because he couldn’t color in the lines. I’m proud of the big son’s vagina picture.

Big Son, “It’s not fair Mom, the penis picture is so much more embarrassing.”

Me, “Why?”

Big Son, “From the side view, the penis picture looks really bad. You don’t see anything from the vagina side view.” He shows me the penis diagram picture too – perhaps he thinks his mom doesn’t know what a penis looks like.

Me, “Well, how about the female torso, side view?”

Big Son, “What about it?”

Me, “The breasts from the side, you can see those.”

Big Son, “They’re not important.”

Me, “Why not?”

Big Son, “We didn’t even have to color them.”

Me, “Well, they might be important someday…” (this response I keep to myself)

Wurd Warrior/acrylic

coverWurd Girl created for a long ago illustration class. Textbook is one I designed (interior and exterior) and art directed while at Prentice Hall. I did not do the cover art

I’d like to give a shout out to schools dealing with these important topics. Besides the personal conversations that parents have with their children, many schools shoulder the responsibility of informing our students with important, yet sometimes “uneasy” topics such as reproduction. Educators do this masterfully and professionally without the giggles…

alien theory II: implanting heroes

Far in the future (hopefully) industrious aliens land on earth, specifically North America. While conducting homestead research, their sublocators are drawn to human skeletons.

Locator data reveals a periodic match: The dust that formed earth (billions of years ago) originating as silicone and oxygen (from exploding stars) has also been found in female bones on the east and west coast.

While conducting additional research, the aliens uncover millions of photo files. Soon they understand how these silicone-carriers were magnanimously celebrated by the human race.

The aliens go on to teach their offspring how earthlings protected precious silicone payloads beneath their own skin in two great bags carried near the heart.

The aliens decide to occupy earth and also come to revere big-breasted gals. They  wonder whatever happened to the god, Hugh Hefner and his rabbits.

“It was heroic implanted females who tried saving the human race from its silicone doom…”

nano, nano…
boobellathis is a little giant enhancement ‘humor’ only
not reconstructive surgery due to illness…thank you

when the delicate daughter was quite young, she asked her mom why the girl on the magazine cover had a “toosh” under her neck…

quickie sketch – shortest one yet!

conspiracy theory

reality tv
kardashian fever
bieber buns
nip, tuck
suck in, plump out
fashion foibles
sex scandals
sex-laden sitcoms
dirty politicians
hot bodies
cool faces
their sexy offspring
reforming educational reformed reforms
parents acting like children
children behaving like adults
celebrating bad behavior
celebrity culture?
uncelebrated elderly
good behavior uninteresting
waterless streaming
unheavenly star power
war battling religion
religion battling bedrooms

WAKE UP EARTHLINGS!
the lizard people want us dumb and distracted
so they can take over the planet!

Cheesy Alien

Cheesy Alien, previously published – created a few months back…
The delicate daughter recently completed a conspiracy paper for her lit class – there are real lizard people…Google away, my friends…;)

no eyes to ponder

she is tired of nothing
but can’t keep her eyes open
she is a conversationalist
but she’s been silenced
with no eyes to ponder
or hands to hold
behind this illuminated screen
she is at a loss to help
his battle scars are dug in deep
beneath invisible flesh
she needs to face the faceless
it’s time to move forward
and return
to what she does best
helping those she can see..

uptitty bookreader

uptitty bookreader

the right moment for a lefty

can you glide atop marble
with big feet tripping you
can you dance across scuffed inlay
while soaking in the swing band
if you know me at all
you’ll know why music and maroon socks are perfect
will you sneer if an errant hair strand sticks to my shiny mouth
my lips are glossed ’cause I’m trying to look pretty
as you swing me left
I can’t swing right – that’s the side I always drop things on
will you know I never lived above an Italian deli but wanted to
or worked as a librarian
or sketched on a zeppelin
or like my bedsheets striped otherwise I put them on the wrong way
will you know I dream all the time
something I was supposed to be held back a grade for
will you know how I escaped
and that I don’t ever want to be caught
I just want to dance to swing band music
with someone who doesn’t mind laughing with me
dancerquickie sketch today

s’words’

your words
smolder into sabers
pierce my naive imagination
while I tend inked sheep
you dance with spirited stallions
upon thoughts ignited by hoof spark

I will drink your sharp wine
let it dizzy my head and spin my body
then I’ll wander
inebriated through the forest
back to the safety of my paper cottage
before your perfect flames
burn down my underdone dwelling

Marilyn hands/oil

Marilyn hands/oil

MM in oil, painted, oh gosh, in 1982 during my Marilyn phase. MM to many ‘perfect’ to behold, to others ‘sadness’ by peroxide…

against a thick crimson sky

lone soldier

this day is not ours to decide
it is done
some had no choice
sacrifices made
youthful years in hell
bodies and minds disabled
parentless children
forever missing
white markers
against a thick crimson sky
we commemorate those
living daily nightmares
eternal memories stowed
in footlockers
those of us 
untouched by blood
this day stand beside
those who act(ed) honorably
who often return(ed) alone
these dutiful hearts
must never
sense anything
but respect
compassion
evermore…
pop Germanymy father-in-law while stationed in Germany
below, enjoying his US return
with his beautiful girl who was to become my mother-in-law
below that photo, one from 1919 LeMans, France
my father-in-law’s father #95
war returnLeMans, France 1919

sailing on terra firma

sadness
suspended by the cool sea
blue on blue

restorative
warm earth anchors
soil sanded tones

floating
directionless
ebb and flow

hope

believe
you can sail
on terra firma
caroline in ocean

Seabiscuit Shell

Seabiscuit Shell

delicate daughter as a wayward mermaid – one of my favorite photos
seabiscuit shell created a few months ago after staring at my Breyer’s horse collection that shares my studio (yes, I keep plastic horses – in my defense – they are very pretty)
Maybe a Triple Crown…

my beautiful

we see the world differently
sometimes we don’t speak the same language
I’m a flesh and blood train wreck
often shamed by your benevolence
I wonder why you continue loving me
is there something you know that I don’t
while I dissect, ponder and worry
you patiently watch with a warmth
that tamps my pounding heart back into a steady beat
you sidle me when I’m lonely
refusing to allow my tears to burden the floor
your honest eyes convince me
again and again
why I love you
my beautiful dog
yes, I know it’s time for your dinner
chama

Our beloved Chama 1997 – 2009
Let’s hope more shelter animals find homes…
This post is dedicated to C-Dog – a site that champions human benevolence for all animals. Also, a shout out to newcomer, Lillian the Home Poet who reminded me this very morning about the generosity of our beloved pets.
C-Dog is currently on hiatus (hopefully not too long:) )