Friday, January 1, 2016

Big, Fat Mama

As soon as I walked in the back door, she was there waiting for me. 
The blonde girl.  
I had barely put down my first bag of groceries before she started speaking. 
Quieter, "mom"
"When you were gone dad got so mad.  He was saying damn, and mother bleeper, and shit."
"Why was he saying that?  What was he mad at?" 
"The garbage can. He was yelling at the garbage can."
"Huh" I said, my mind's ideas swirling around as to what had happened in the hour that I was not at home. 
"There was a hole in the garbage bag and he got sooooo mad at it."
I tried not to smile too much as I went out to get more groceries from the car. 
Gigi loves two things.
Well, more than two things, but I'm focusing on two of her loves right now. 
Gigi loves to tattle on others and she loves any opportunity to use curse words. 
When I saw my husband a few moments later when he sauntered into the kitchen, I mentioned to him what Gigi had told me. 
"She's such a nark!" he declared. 
I prefer to think of it as honesty. 

Gigi is very honest. 
She's yet to learn how to stifle her thoughts. 
But, then again, why should she stifle her thoughts?
Why aren't we all so honest?
As honest as a 7 year old.
Who will tell you when your breath stinks as you go in to kiss her. 
Who will tell her doctor that her farts feel like the wind. 
Who will tell her sister, you hurt my feelings because you don't want to play school with me anymore. 
Even though sister has been playing with her for the last two hours. 
Who will lovingly tell me "I love you big fat mama" and not mean anything malicious by those words. 
I'm her mama. 
She loves me. 
And she thinks I'm big and fat. 
But I don't think I'm big and fat. 
I mean, YES I could stand to lose some pounds. 
But she weighs 55 pounds. 
So, in her wee little eyes and mind...
I'm big and fat. 

I need to be more honest. 
With people in my life. 
With people who have hurt me. 
Who continue to hurt me. 
And if I need to, I need to cut some ties. 
Because life is too short to have insincere strings connecting knotted up and frayed relationships. 
Honesty can be one of the hardest things to effectuate. 
Being honest can feel as if you're standing naked in a snowstorm. 
The vulnerability felt. 
The unknown reaction awaiting. 
But to a 7 year old, it's just how it is. 
Here's what you did and here's my response. 
I need to take some lessons from my daughter. 
But it's a scary lesson plan to look over. 
Why do we allow ourselves to shy away from honesty the older we get?
I have no answer. 
I'm still searching for "The Big Book Of Life's Answers". 
And I've lost the call number. 

I hope Gigi stays honest. 
I hope she doesn't go through life not telling it how it is. 
I hope she stands up for what she believes. 
Even if it goes against the grain. 
Even if it seems bizarre to others. 
Because sometimes the most bizarre ideas are in fact, the best ideas. 
I hope Gigi stays true. 
True to herself. 
True to her sister. 
True to her heart. 
True to those she loves the most. 
Especially big, fat mama. 

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