The Mama Gut-Rod Chronicles

“Do you promise to have and to hold, in good times and in bad?” There is not a single dry eye in the audience. Including my brother, the groom. We’re outside on what couldn’t have been a more perfect day on the cliff where a luxury hotel sits. The wedding is small and simple but nonetheless a beautiful one. Like the bride. It doesn’t take much to make her stunning and stunning she is. As she walks down the grassy aisle, my brother lays eyes on her and does something I’ve never seen him do. He’s crying. Not hard, but enough that I relish in the moment of probably the only time I’ll ever see my big bro’s ugly cry face. I’m crying too, like a baby. I saw her earlier in her hotel room to get the rings for my son, the ring bearer. I’m instantly turning my head. Laying eyes on her meant ruining my makeup too early. She gestures with her hand to stop like it’s seriously no big deal she’s radiant. Then gets right to business. “Okay did your brother tell you the concession order?” I sh

The other day I got fed up with chasing my kid about his homework. Every day it was like pulling teeth. When I would bring up his homework it was always accompanied with him whining about how hard it is, how he doesn’t want to do it, wants to do something else, will do it later and would even start crying because its too much. It’s enough to make you lose your goddamn mind. I blamed the school, I blamed myself and I blamed him. Then I made a decision one weekend. I sat my kid down and gave it to him straight. “Baby, I’m not responsible for you doing your homework. Ok?” “Huh?” “Everyday I chase you to make sure you do your homework and I get so frustrated as though it’s my responsibility. I feel like I’ve failed and done something wrong when you don’t do it and I get mad at you when you don’t really seem to care. But I’ve realized it can’t be my responsibility. Doing your homework is your responsibility. Okay?” He’s confused, “ok…” “So when we get home, I wil

His loud moaning keeps me checking in my rear view mirror to make sure he’s still properly fastened in his seat. “I have a stomach ache!” He groans loudly We’re on our way to school in the carpool lane and its rush hour on the 405. Just to be clear, we are literally going to make it to school right on time. There’s no room to deviate. If he’s going to puke he’s gonna have to do it on the way. We start going through what he ate. “I don’t knooow!!!” I think his discomfort is making him cranky. “Well you had oatmeal, two quesadillas” He sounds like a sad and angry alien monkey, “I KNOW!” I stay silent. Waiting to see how close to dying he actually is, I’m also multitasking and managing LA traffic. I’ve got a dude in front of me that keeps breaking sporadically and an SUV behind me with someone, I hope is paying attention. Aside from that, I’m checking when to move over for motorcyclists and of course obsessively checking the time at least once every minute.

Six years ago I got a divorce from my son's father. It was a mutual decision and we even hugged in appreciation for the fact that we tried but ultimately it wasn’t going to work out. I was 22 years old and although I was aware of how young I was; fresh out of college with a one-year-old kid and two part time jobs, I was unaware of how to date and honestly didn’t feel like it. Up to that point I had only been in what I would consider 2 serious relationships. In fact my idea of being with someone was always serious.  It wasn't until my last serious relationship about 3 years ago that I turned a critical corner and realized  my priorities were all wrong.  QUICK SIDE NOTE: Let me just first say that luckily I don't have to worry about co-parenting, I'm very lucky for this. I don't have to worry about being criticized by an ex-lover for how I learned to get through the intimate relationship waters as a newly single parent but I did have to deal with my family's,