A freak storm.

I told this little gem to a few of my friends during a fantastically fun beach party we had at the beginning of the summer.

A month or so before the party, I went into the computer room after sending the kids to school to enjoy the rest of my morning coffee, geek around facebook a bit, check emails and so forth before getting into the housework of the day. (Ugh. That whole sentence just made me yawn. Sorry!!)

I clicked on my little firefox icon, an up popped a very strange looking window. It definitely wasn’t my homepage, and right away I figured it was some sort of virus. I tried to click the X at the top, and then LO AND BEHOLD, I was drug into a Pornado. A lesbian one. In a locker room. And it involved several women.

That frickin’ window would NOT close. I realized I would have to try to re-start my system and run a deep clean to rid the system of whatever infected it…

But not before I had a peek, of course. C’MON! Of course I did. And not much shocks me anymore, what with 2girls1cup and all….

What got me, what made me laugh out loud, was the fervent, deliberate and frantic way these ladies went at it with one another. It was robotic and urgent in a such a frenetic way. Writhing arms and chafing hands and waggling tongues and bouncing boobs, weird shrieks and moans of what I assumed were pleasure, but sounded more like repetitive groans of boredom.

I began to wonder if they were trying to start fires with the friction they were causing.

Honestly, it exhausted me just to watch it. But, I’ll give those girls this, at least: They have stamina. Lots and lots of stamina.

But it obviously was the result of the endless hunger for this sort of thing. It’s produced because people want it. Sadly, though it had nothing that I could see as a turn-on (and HEY, I get the whole girl-on-girl thing….). I likened it to cheap, mass-produced products made in a foreign land to fulfill an instant fad, with misspelled words and badly-made materials. “Hey everybody! Lesbian porn is IN right now!!! Lots of girls going for it in the locker room shower! Sounds HOT!!” I mean, let’s be honest here. NONE of those girls are gay. Probably not even bisexual. They all looked so tired, like it was just another day at the office. I felt that I could almost read their thoughts. Been there, done that. A couple more rounds and I’m done for the day! Are we done yet? I gotta pick up my kid from daycare. Aw crap, I have a dentist’s appointment this afternoon. Wonder if Jimmy will let me go early?

Guh. I kind of felt their pain…. Haven’t we all had jobs that we’ve hated; repetitive, boring, endless stupid jobs? And yet we still did them, day after relentless day, for that pathetic paycheque to cover our bills?

I wonder if the porn-hungry people out there care that it’s faked? And in such a terribly bad and poorly lit way?

Wait. I just remembered the WWE, and answered my own question. Never mind.

Oh, and I completely cleaned my system, and it’s never happened again… I couldn’t even IMAGINE how I would explain that sort of thing to my kids…..

Um… hello hormones….

Remember when you were planning to have babies?

I don’t know about you, but when that Baby Urge hit my body, I likened it to a deep and primal craving… Like a pre-menstrual woman on the hunt for chocolate, I needed a baby. My body was aching for it, my biological clock ticked so loud, it sometimes kept me awake at nights…

And so, after some drink-infused “debates”, Dan and I went for it…. Threw the birth control aside, and enjoyed the freedom of that strange and ethereal lifestyle of “trying for a baby”…

Little did I know I could get pregnant merely by thinking about it…

So, years and years later, those delicious, sweet, milky babies, with chubby rolls and innocent breath; bright eyes and gifts of unequivocal love have become a memory. Nights of colic and snuggles, sore nipples and diaper rash are faded recollections. The length of my children stretched against my body, breathing in rhythm, giggles making me swoon, just photos in an album now. My life becoming real, my existence becoming purposeful. The worries of potty-training, the guesswork at vaccination. Such giant problems at the time. If I only knew…..

ABSOLUTELY NOTHING compares to pre-hormonal angst, the likes of which has descended upon our house like a furtive storm; a sneaky thief making away with our bright-eyed bunnies and replacing them with sighing, eye-rolling, discontented angst-ridden beasts.

And they’re not even teenagers yet.

I struggle in finding that balance of understanding and compassion and wanting to kick their asses so hard I leave my boot print permanently on their butt cheeks.

To toot my own Mama horn, I do shine (sometimes) in finding that sweet place of love, relating to my kids with stories of my own youth… so that they may feel a teeny bit of normalcy amidst their own churning doubts.

But Grilled Cheesus, there are times when the attitude and belligerence and abuse and blame gets to be too much. In that space I wonder how I will survive the upcoming storm season of the dreaded teenager years. Copious amounts of wine aside, I know deep down they will need to work their way through it with loving and supportive parents.

I am entering the Dark Ages of parenting. The Renaissance is years away…. and already I am fantasizing about my children, grown up with offspring of their own, coming to me to complain about their children’s terrible and obnoxious behaviour. I can only hope.

And how I will laugh and laugh… and then I will crack open a bottle of wine, to share with these beings who have blessed my life beyond anything I could ever compare to, and sit with them to commiserate, to observe and offer what little help I may and to rejoice of the never-ending revolution of life.