Channeling my Inner Erma

Saturday last I went to this really sweet writing workshop in the big city. Super exciting info on how to write and get published in the children's book world, because I aspire to be a decent writer someday (so Um... momontherocks.com could you please just destroy that crap I sent you for review because I realize now how much it really sucked it and have reworked the entire thing).

I made connections, and by connections I mean I met other writers. Sometimes, it's just really, really good to get out of suburbia and meet other people who think like I do. Granted, I'm damn near positive I was in the minority at this Women's Voices Seminar, being all hetero and all, but whatever. Where I live there are no people of color, or very few, and I really can't think of anyone I know who doesn't drive a mini-van; shuffling from soccer to dance to scouts to wherever after school (insert your own sport) shopping at the local huge grocery chain for food not locally grown, and every home has a mommy and a daddy and a smattering of kids.

The neighborhood the workshop was in was one of the neatest in Chicago, with an independent bookstore and neighborhood shops selling works by artists, bakers, photographers, you name it, and people owned restaurants serving menus of organic, locally grown and vegetarian menus. No icky mall food chains. I have forgotten in my wrapped up world of white hetero Honda comfort that there are other more interesting people out there that I can learn from. Worth the hour in the car for sure, even navigating city streets.

However....however. I decided to go to the after conference to the 'after hours' coctail party. For a women's voices conference I met some interesting dudes, and that is all I will say about that. But I did learn that once you told people you are interested in writing a children's book, you get a look of discreditation. (I'm pretty sure I just made that word up)

Are you kidding me? Writing for kids doesn't mean I AM one...okay maybe I am a little but so frickin' what? And, one of the things we had to do was write a book on our nametag that may provoke discussion. I've read a shitload of books, so I just wrote the last one I read, "Ophelia". Great story that revamps Hamlet's "crazy" love. I recommend it if you think she got the raw end of the stick in a male dominated maybe Shakespeare was really a sham world. What's that, Elizabethan? Frick.

I seriously thought all these crazy chick lit Women's rights granolas would be really interested, but apparently it wasn't a witty/inteligent/thought provoking premise. Whatever. Maybe I'm not witty, or thought provoking...I wanted to tell all these posers (because I really HATE when people TRY to be smart and impress you. The smartest people I know never say jack or try to prove their own points. They just exist and occasionally toss out a comment that makes you say to yourself...oh DAMN! He/She's right. Shit!) So anyway, I wanted to tell these people that

1.) Just because I'm a mom of three and drive a minivan and I think the word Douche-Canoe is a keeper doesn't mean I'm not smart.
and
1a.) I also think "Shit-snacks" should be a phrase interjected into every conversation.
That doesn't make me less creative than anyone else.

So to sum up, what have we learned, dear readers in my blogosphere?
1.) I want to write a children's book.
2.) YOU want to say shitsnacks out loud at some point today and call your boss a douchecanoe.
3.) I like suburbia, but I like to get out once in a while.


ShitSNACKS!

Girls Are Just Stooopid, period.

Wow! I really did say that! I really looked at my 8 year old precious boy and said, 'You know son, sometimes girls are just stupid.".
Me, who is all pro women's rights.
Me, who took multiple feminist lit classes in college.
Me, who would have burned my bra in a war protest had I been born at the right historical time.
Me, who is trying to raise my daughter to be strong, independent, carefree, secure in her own skin and not pressured to conform to what those dreaded "boys" think looked my son in the eyes and told him girls were stupid. It defies all logic.

To be fair, he is having some issues at school socially. He confided, finally, that some girls tease him, and say he's gross. So instead of explaining how that means they must have a "crush on you" and give him some other paltry rhetoric, I just came out with, "Girls are stupid".

So what lessons have I taught my son? When girls say something you disagree with, they are lower on the intelligence ladder of evolution. What lesson have I taught my daughter? Mommy just says things she doesn't mean? I'm all hot air and no action? Don't believe what I say?

Or, better yet, "Honey, just tell boys what they want to hear, and continue life as it were. Literally, they cannot function without us, but we must pretend to let them think that they can. We are good enough, smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like us."

Or have I simply taught my children the definition of a hypocrite?