Owlie bird

January 12, 2012 at 9:02 pm (brood, crossroads, life! a lover!)

The earth has taken almost a complete wander around the sun since my last lonely letter into this void, and a number of things have changed.

A family has grown up around me the way that I’ve seen old trees grow around old bicycles. Just now a gorgeous woman has her legs tangled with mine, my hands working to remember how to form words by manipulating a series of buttons, hers busy in her knitting. Three daughters are off at three different schools, and tea is cooling in our mugs. Stepmotherhood suits me well, if I’m infrequently as evil as I may have hoped.

The youngest is five, and in accordance with her grandmother’s and against my wishes, attends a Catholic school. Proper theology, I think, I could stand. I was taught by nuns myself, which left me with a rebellious streak, a lean in the direction of weird mysticism, and, no small thing, educated well enough that I was capable of educating myself. But sometimes after school while we walk to the bus, her hand held in mine, she chatters away, explaining nonsense like, “it’s raining because Jesus is crying.” So I try to give her other options, like maths and science the school incorrectly thinks too advanced for preschool, really good books, strange old gods, and shiny bits of magic.

While picking her up after school yesterday, one of the other little girls asked her who I was. “That’s Jack,” she explained. “Jack is one of my moms. I have two moms.” My partner and I shared a smile over it. I’ve only been living with the bairn for six months, so it still (and might always) feel like I’ve won a prize when she calls me her mum. And that she explained it simply, and the other girl didn’t think to make much of a fuss over it, felt nice. Our youngest doesn’t have much need of words like lesbian or queer, but she does know that there are two of us who will make her oatmeal in the morning, read her stories, take her to the doctor, convince her to eat her vegetables, take her for walks in the woods, and listen to her made up songs, and that would seem to be enough for her to like explaining it and want to brag about it a little.


Permalink Leave a Comment