Posts tagged ‘reigning queen of pink’

1 January 2018 – Not Dead Yet

1 January, 2018 | | No Comment

Happy New Year.

I managed all of 4 posts last year, which is about what 2015 looked like as well.  As I mentioned on the occasion of this blog turning 10, back in 2016, I find myself at the confluence of the rivers of Time, Inspiration, and Energy with decreasing frequency these days.  And by days, clearly, I meant years.

Here’s hoping those days are behind us.  There’s no shortage of Inspiration, surely, and this year, I plan to work on the Energy part.

That leaves Time, and what is time but that wibbly-wobbly bit in between waking up and falling down again?  I’ll find it somewhere.  Probably behind the couch.

So with that out of the way, I’ve asked several people what their biggest wishes for 2018 might be.  The answers have ranged from health to wealth, from continued employment to new employment, and from impeachment to imprisonment.  Probably the best answer, though, came from the Reigning Queen of Pink herself.  “My wish is that all of my friends and people I know don’t die horribly.  I mean, I know people are going to die, that’s just life.  I just wish that they don’t die horribly.”

That’s right – it’s OK to die.  Just not, you know, horribly.

So I figure, as long as we’re not dead, we ought to be doing things.  Saying hello to people.  Telling them we love them.  Fighting for reasonable gun laws.  Updating our blogs.  That sort of thing.  I’m not sure how far we’re going to get, but the Tao reminds us that the journey begins with a step.  I propose we take that step!

… Lest we die, horribly.

So, as I type this under the light of the first supermoon of 2018, I wish you all the Time, Inspiration, and Energy you need to make it through 2018.  Put last year behind us, and let’s see what we can make of this one, while we still aten’t dead.

Happy New Year!

 

 

The Perils of Panopticonalism, and Why I Don’t Have It

11 June, 2016 | | 1 Comment

They all start like simple, innocent days, uncomplicated, routine.   And then BAM – your 13-yr-old is discussing her sexuality in the kitchen while you’re cooking, and you have to use your brain.  Parenting:  The most interesting roller coaster you’ll never get off of.  It’s not just the unexpected plunges, drops, and loops that really get you, either – it’s the sarcasm.

As evidence of this point, I present a conversation that took place the other day among The Reigning Queen of Pink, Number One Son, and myself.  It should be noted that at 13 years old, the RQOP does not so much question her sexuality as interrogate it.  I wouldn’t put her past waterboarding.  (It should also be noted that the below is transcribed with her express permission.)

RQOP:  “In gym today I was talking to my friend E_, who really goes by L_ but I already know someone called L_ so I call her E_, and we were all talking about our sexuality and I mentioned that I was probably bisexual but hadn’t really decided yet and E_ is bisexual and she told me that she wished that someone had told her this when she was thinking about her own sexuality and so she would tell me that if I ever wanted someone to talk to about it, I could talk to her, and I thought that was very nice of her so I gave her a hug.”

(Note:  E_ is *also* 13 years old.)

BUMD:  “That’s very nice of her, and it’s great that you can talk about these things with your friends.  While I think you know that you can also always talk about anything like that to me and Mom….”

RQOP, interrupting:  “Oh yes of course, that’s the best thing about you guys is that you don’t care about anything!”

(Note:  It’s possible that this side effect of our admittedly liberal and somewhat laissez faire parenting style was not exactly the impression we were aiming for.)

BUMD:  “Well, it’s not so much that we don’t care, as that however you grow up won’t affect how we love you or treat you or anything like that.”

RQOP:  “Yes, I know that’s what I meant – you don’t care about THAT.”

BUMD:  “Right.  OK, but what I wanted to say is that it while you can always talk to me about that kind of thing, it’s possible that I might lack the some of the perspective your friend might have.  I know it’s hard to believe, but I actually haven’t ever been a Bisexual Teen-aged Woman.  So it’s nice that you might have someone like E_ with whom you can talk things out, or … ”

RQOP, to Number One Son who was standing near:  “HOLY SHIT!  Did you hear that?  Dad just admitted he’s not omniscient!”

NOS:  “Holy shit.  Need to write this down.”

Now as every parent knows, The Assumption of Parental Omniscience (TAPO)™  is as important to successfully parenting kids over the course of 20 or 30 or 80 years as The Assumption of Papal Infallibility is to successfully managing a church for 2000ish years.  I certainly wasn’t going to let go of my TAPO™ without a fight.  The church didn’t forgive Galileo Galilei for thinking outside the box for close to 400 years; I figured there was historical precedent.  Besides, it’s an election year.

BUMD, in my best Richard Nixon voice:  “I said no such thing, I made no such admission!  My omniscience is not to be questioned.  What I lack is a certain perspective.  Being omniscient, I know everything, but I may not always perceive every point of view.  I lack onmi-perspective-ed-ness-ish.  I lack omniperispactity.  I lack…  I lack a word for what I’m saying.  What the hell word means that?”

NOS:  “Omniperspectieieieie….   Yeah.”

RQOP:  “Omperspec…  Yeah.”

We eventually settled on Panopticonalism, which is certainly close enough even if it doesn’t have that omniwonderful prefix that 266 popes and I have found so useful.  Having distracted the children down my lexicographical rabbit hole, I was able to exit the conversation with my TAPO™ intact.  Dinner was served, and my roller coaster flattened back out onto one of the smoother sides of the track for a while.

Perspective, perschmective.  At least I still have my TAPO!™

 

 

 

 

She Knows Where Her Towel Is!

14 June, 2015 | | 3 Comments

Today, I couldn’t be more proud.  Mind you, I couldn’t be more late in updating this blog, but that’s a different issue.  Right now, I couldn’t be more proud of the Reigning Queen of Pink, Grand Duchess of Fluff, Lord High Protector of Barbies, and Baroness of the Hummingbirds.

RQOP:  “Can we watch Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy now?”
BUMD:  “Yes!”
RQOP:  “OK, I’ll be right back!”  (runs off)
BUMD:  “OK……..”
RQOP:  (having returned with two dish towels.)  “Here you go!”
BUMD:  (blinks)
RQOP:  “We can’t watch without our towels!”

Too bloody Belgiuming right we can’t!  What a cool frood she’s growing into – as a Douglas myself, I am very proud!

 

 

Outed!

3 December, 2014 | | 1 Comment

The Reigning Queen of Pink, Grand Duchess of Fluff, Lord High Protector of Barbies, and Baroness of the Hummingbirds just walked up to me this evening and announced that, quote, “Daddy, it wouldn’t surprise me if you were Bi.”

BUMD:  “Um, what?”
RQOP:  “You’re Bisexual.  Or at least you’re probably Bisexual.”
BUMD:  “Okaaaaaaaaaaaay…  May I ask how you came to this conclusion?”
RQOP:  “Oh, nothing.  I just have a feeling.”
BUMD:  “So, I’m setting off your Gaydar.”
RQOP:  “Well, Bi-dar, but yes.”

So, I guess I’m bi.  Who knew?  Mind you, this ties in with my theory that pretty much everyone is about 3 drinks from bi, but I really didn’t expect to be outed, while sober, by a 12-year-old whose total sexual experience is limited to The American Girl Body Book and a handful of tampons. I guess I’d better pick up some flowers for my boyfriend tomorrow.

Bi-dar?  I’ve known this little pink thing for 12 years and she can still make me say “huh?”

 

Signs of Growing Up

26 September, 2014 | | 1 Comment

This morning, I overheard the following conversation between the Reigning Queen of Pink and her Alarm Clock.

“Beep!”

“Beep!”

“Beep!”

“Off!” 

“Beep!”

“Off!”

“Beep-Beep!”

“Off off off off!”

“Beep-Beep!”

“Off!”

“Be-Be-Beep!”

“Where’s the Off button?”

“Be-Be-Beep!”

“Be-Be-Beep!”

“Damnit!”

“Be-Be-Beep!”

“Off!”

…At which point she clearly found the button in question, since both sides of the conversation stopped abruptly.  Clearly, the RQoP is growing up – this is a conversation I believe every adult has had at least once. 

Happy Friday, and clearly, good morning.