Author: Yoga Bynum

Parents Say the Darnedest Things

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Bill Cosby once had a show about the delightful things that children say. I never watched an episode, but I remember how much my dad loved it. I was a single girl focused on starting her career, and the thought of motherhood gave me the willies. The show had zero appeal.
Funny how things have changed. I’m now a mother of two energetic girls, and I’m exceedingly tickled by their interpretations of the world. Hubby and I were just laughing about how Mini Me once believed frogs rode schoolbuses thanks to a Leap Frog toy she had. Lil Ma hasn’t learned to talk yet, but her expressions say plenty.

As comical as those moments can be, I sometimes find what I tell my children even more hilarious. Hubby and I have said things in the past eight years that I never thought would need to be said by anyone. 
Here’s a sample from just this week:
“Don’t eat your shoes!“

“We kiss with our lips, not our teeth.”

“Is that poo on your hands?”

“Say goodnight to the beach ball.”
This just might be my favorite of all time:

“Please don’t step on Daddy’s man parts.”
What’s the funniest thing you’ve said to your children?
– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

#31WriteNow Blog Challenge

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When writing and I are in the midst of a love affair, things are good. Sentences and turns of phrase come to me without hesitation. Paragraphs feel as if they write themselves. And the best part? I like what I’ve created.

But writing and I aren’t together right now. Putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard feels like a chore. I often face a blank screen instead of inspiration.

Life has pulled us in two different directions. A new baby, a new job for Hubby, and a quasi-new job for me are just a few of the forces that have grappled for my attention. Over the past few months, I’ve been trying to get us reunited. It’s been a series of fits and starts.

So when I ran across Awesomely Luvvie’s post about a 31-day blog challenge for August, I was intrigued. The challenge is to post new content every day from now until the end of the month. No throwbacks.

After my initial interest settled, doubt began to creep in. I have too much to do. Work is starting to pick up. Hubby will be leaving town soon. The three posts a week I’ve been trying to write are hard enough; there’s no way I can handle a post a day.

Doubt moved to worry: What if I fall off after a week? What if I can’t think of anything to write?

Worry gave way to fear: What if I my writing is awful? What if the love affair never returns?

Our relationship may not become what it once was, or it could come back stronger that ever. I won’t know, though, until I try. So I’m closing my eyes, taking a deep breath, and digging in.

I hope you will come along for the ride.

Another Baby?

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When I was pregnant with Lil Ma, I often walked to a local diner for salted caramel milkshakes. During one of my trips, I ran into a man who I’d seen from time to time in my office building.

“Wow! You’re just like my parents,” he said.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“You’re having babies like stair steps, one right after the other.”

“What?” My neck started to roll.

He gulped. “Don’t you have three or four kids?”

“No.” My eyes narrowed.

I wanted to throw my shake at him, but that would have been a waste of a perfectly good beverage.

When Lil Ma’s was born, Hubby was out of town for work. My mom, who can no longer drive, had to hitch a ride with a friend. Until it was time to push, I watched TV and read magazines. (Epidurals are wonderful!) Mom held my hand while her friend gave Hubby the play by play via phone. It took less than five minutes.

“I’ve never seen a birth go so smoothly,” her friend said. “You could probably do this again. Don’t you want to try for a boy?”

I had to stop myself from cursing.

If I had a dollar for every conversation like these that I’ve had, I could buy Bentley.

The decision to have a baby is deeply personal, and only the parties involved know the factors that weigh in to the final decision. When you ask someone about family planning, you could be hitting a nerve.

I doubt that most people mean to be intrusive. I think they get swept up in the excitement that baby talk can bring. Before I had kids, I was guilty of that. And if you are reading this, please accept my apology.

The questions died down for a while, but now that Lil Ma is a year old, they’re starting to pick up again. I want to address the queries gracefully, so I’ve refined my response:

If the girls wanted another little brother or sister, they would have brought one with them.

What do you say when asked about having kids?

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Separation Anxiety

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Mini Me is back from her week-long trip with Grandma. They’ve headed south to the family farm every year since she was four. When she’s a few years older, Lil Ma will go too.

I’m really looking forward to that moment, even though it’s years away. This week is one of the high points of the summer.
The first time Grandma asked if Mini Me could go, I was hesitant. She hadn’t been away from me for more than a few days, and this time, we’d be hundreds of miles apart. I ran through the gamut of possibilities. What if she fell and skinned her knee? What if she fell and broke her knee? What if she fell and lost her knee?
My mind has the ability to move from the rational to the ridiculous in a short amount of time. So, I had to force myself to focus on what was really bothering me:
What if she didn’t miss me at all?
Back then, part of me believed that a kid didn’t love you unless they were begging to come home the second the parents were out of sight. I agreed for her to go, packed her bags, and waited for the phone ring.
I didn’t hear a peep from her all week. She came home with legs covered in mosquito bumps and a sack full of okra from Great-Grandma’s garden. Then she spent the next seven days giving me a blow-by-blow of her adventure. 
“Did you miss mommy?” I asked. 
“Sure,” my big girl said. “That’s why I’m telling you about all the fun I had.”
I now know that separation is necessary. It’s actually a good sign if your kiddo is confident enough to try things in her own. It means that Mini Me is on her way to being a self-sufficient young woman, and I don’t have to worry about fixing up the basement for our adult daughter who’s never leaving home.

It also means that Hubby and I are treated to a well deserved break. We didn’t get as much rest this year with Lil Ma still about, but past vacations included massages, movies, dinners and sleeping in. 
Every year when Mini Me leaves, I have a miniscule moment of guilt about enjoying our time apart. It passes quickly once I remember some wise words from my aunt.

“Kids can’t be with their parents all the time,” she said. “Besides, you can get on a kids nerves just as much as they can get on yours.”
Yes, indeed. 

Today’s Selfie: Stripes!

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Monday’s post on my personal style has me more aware of my outfits this week. Fortunately the awareness has been good, because I like who I see. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, it also has made we want to take more selfies.
I am in a constant love affair with black/white patterned shirts. That love becomes near close to obsession if the pattern is a stripe. Horizontal stripes used to be a no-no for me, but the more flattering cut of t-shirts these days make them work. I’m also trying pattern mixing, which I find that I like very much.