I survived a bachelorette weekend. An epic tale in 6 paragraphs.

Last weekend I went to a foreign land. Seattle. But not actually Seattle. We were close to Seattle, in the same way that the North America is close to Mars. I was in Leavenworth, WA. And I participated in some cultural activities. And no, I am not talking about dressing up in lederhosen and enjoying a beer garden. Except that we did enjoy a beer garden while sipping drinks from a bottle of wine. But we’re rebels like that.

So what is my point? I was getting to that. Be patient. And welcome back from your visit to the Leavenworth web site. That town has its own font. I was on a girl’s weekend/bachelorette party. And maybe it’s just me, but this is a little awkward as a lesbian. Mostly because people don’t know whether they should invite my spouse. They should not. And the bachelorette is one of my coolest friends, so she already knows not to invite my spouse. So it was not awkward.

But just in case you are thinking about inviting a lesbian couple to your bachelorette weekend, don’t. Unless they are the entertainment, in which case tip them well, because women make 73 cents for every dollar that a man makes. And as you already know, these types of performances require lots of dollar bills and 73 cents is just way to hard to tuck into a g string. But I digress.

Girls weekends, in spite of the name, are not really a gender thing although they do involve lingerie. But mostly they are about one half of a bunch of couples and one single lady, getting together without their spouses and without their kids and then talking about those people the whole time. And they are about underwear. And sometimes fake penises.

But the girls I was with were classy, so there were no fake penises to drink cocktails out of or wear on your head. Which means that I didn’t fit in at all. Because I have a whole collection of fake penises. Except I call them dildos, but whatever. And none of them have straws in them, so you cannot drink out of them. But some of them do have straps, so I suppose you could wear them on your head if you wanted to, but I don’t, because they don’t work very well that way. Or maybe they do, and I am just not very open-minded.

But let’s move on, because this is getting really personal and mildly embarrassing. And because this weekend was not about me, it was about the bachelorette. And it was about drinking. And that is why I’m only posting once this week. Because I was tired and hung over on Monday. And I was spending time trying penises on my head to see if it could work that way. The end.

underwear

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© Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

We’re not gay enough or something. So maybe I’ll just punch myself in the head.

I got a phone call on Monday from a guy named Andrew which is awesome, because I love phone calls. Andrew is the casting producer for Punched in the Head Productions, a film company that makes “not-so-serious” productions. This phone call was even better than I expected, because he wasn’t actually planning on punching me in the head, which is good because that would be serious, and these folks are supposed to be “not-so-serious.” And I’m not-so-serious, so I knew Andrew and I would hit it off.

Andrew was trolling the internet looking for LGBT families to cast on a new show on Bravo, and he found my blog. So he called me. And it was great. Except that the show he is casting for is called “Bravo’s Extreme Guide to Parenting,” and we couldn’t come up with anything extreme about my family. Maybe that was extremely lazy of us, but not lazy enough to be on TV. And we talked a little bit about how gay my family is, but it’s not THAT gay. I’m not sure what that means, but being gay and having two kids is no longer extreme, so that was great news. And I won’t have to wash my hair and lose 50 pounds, so I’ll look good on TV. So that’s a big relief. And now I’ve got a new friend on Facebook, which is always awesome! And he’s in a relationship with someone named Gilbert, which gets extra bonus points in my book because that’s kind of gay and because his boyfriend’s name is Gilbert.

So, if you live in a cave with your bisexual, transgendered lover and your triplets that you are raising to be Evangelical Muslims, while you wear nothing but fur and hunt for your own food using weapons recreated from The Hunger Games movie, then you might want to give Andrew a call. He’s looking for you.

Andrew Hecht
917-838-3571

punchedinhead

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© Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

What does it mean? The name. Does it really involve Mexicans?

Yes, it does. And now I will explain what the name of this blog means for the millions out there who are reading this, because who wouldn’t want to read about a gay, inter-racial couple having babies. And since a picture is worth a thousand words, here is the picture.

7LM text

And there is a bit more to the story, as I’m sure you can imagine, but this is the internet and I know you are busy. So, if you want the long story, you’ll need to wait for the book. But it you want the short story, it’s in the next paragraph.

We wanted to have a baby. We didn’t have any sperm. (Boohoo!) So we bought some. Doctors put it in me. It didn’t work. So, doctors took the my eggs out of me and put them in a dish. Then, they added the sperm we bought. The sperm was part Mexican. It fertilized seven of the eggs. The end.

Oh, but then I decided to write this blog about it. Making the Mexicans, I mean, and living with two of them, so I needed a URL. There were not that many available because there are a gazillion moms blogging about their children, but not their Mexicans, but whatever. Mommy blogging is a great, unpaid profession so lots of people are doing it.  But I digress. I picked sevenlittlemexicans.com because the following URLs were unavailable: awkwardconversations.com, endlessdiapers.com, upseventimesanight.com. Or maybe that last one was too long, along with makingbabiesthehardway.com.

Anyhow, that’s how we got here. Any questions?

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© Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

It’s Monday. Time for some Gay Agenda items.

Today’s gay agenda is pretty long and pretty hardcore. In case you’re unaware or were not following the Conservative Christians closely enough in the 90s, this term was invented by such people to describe the acceptance and normalization of homosexuality. Yes, I’m for it! Except that they are against it. But whatever, let’s discuss. Here is my gay agenda for today.

1. Get out of bed. That was kind of hard. I stayed up late a lot this weekend, so that makes it difficult to get up on Monday.

2. Blogging. This is it. Hope you find it to be everything that you hoped for. But let’s remember that we’re looking for activities that are morally reprehensible. And so far, I think the Christians might be OK with this agenda, except for the blogging, possibly. But I’m guessing they are in favor of getting out of bed, ESPECIALLY if you’re getting out of a bed that contains a woman.

3. Eat breakfast, get dressed, get the children dressed, make bed, tidy up house a little, forget my keys, come back for my keys, forget tampons, come back for tampons. All of these things happen at the same time, so they are really just one agenda item.

4. Go and get a mammogram, while spending most of my time on my iPhone answering work  e-mail and catching up on all the puppy pictures that I might have missed on Buzzfeed overnight. Then, hold my breath while my breasts are pressed between two large pieces of Plexiglas and manipulated gently by a soft spoken woman with cold fingertips.

5. Go to work. Answer e-mail. Make PowerPoint presentations. Help people get their job done. Eat broccoli and broiled chicken for lunch with a Diet Coke, generously supplied by my employer. Talk on the phone. Delete some e-mail. And leave at 4:45 sharp to pick my two children up from day care.

6. Make dinner. Watch the kids not eat dinner. Try to insist that they eat dinner. Give up. Watch Team Umizoomi. Read Dora’s Rainy Day (again!) to Marlo and then sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star to her while I turn off the lights and close the door to her room. Repeat the same process with Wynn, but substitute the story about the Little Mermaid, no song and no closing of the door.

7. Go downstairs to our bedroom. Collapse next to Pam. Discuss birthday invitations, weird happenings of the day, check e-mail. Then get up, go next door and pick up Wynn’s birthday bike, which is hiding out in our neighbor’s basement. Decorate it. I have no idea how I’m going to do this, so suggestions welcome. And then go upstairs for more collapsing on the bed. And sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star to myself before I fall asleep.

Now I realize that this post did contain a few controversial subjects. Breasts, for one. Always controversial. And tampons. Not as controversial, but at some point I’m guessing there were at least a few people opposed to those, even though they have been around for thousands of years.

So feel free to point out anything that might be morally corrupt in this e-mail. Oh, and don’t forget the suggestions about how to wrap up a bike as a birthday present. I’m all ears. But in the meantime, here’s a picture of the birthday girl (Wynn).

birthday girl

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© Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Another bundle of joy is on it’s way: A book, people, it’s a book

I am mostly in the process of writing a book about our experience becoming parents. This was part of the reason for this blog. (I find it easier to blog than write books, so it’s kind of a warm-up.)

I used to think of this book as something that I wanted to do, and something that I should do. Now, I see it as inevitable. This happened just about two weeks ago — the inevitable part. Why? I’m not sure, but it went something like this.

My old thoughts about this: I want to write a book. I’ve always wanted to. I should write a book about being lesbian parents. It might be helpful to people. But what should I say? Would anyone care? I’m not sure I can do it. Maybe it would suck. That would be embarrassing. I might look stupid. People might make fun of me. People would judge me.

And now I am sure that all those things WILL happen. People will judge me. Parts of it will suck. And a lot of people won’t care. And it might help some people. So bring it! I’m looking forward to that part, but it doesn’t feel that important anymore.

My new thoughts about this: I am writing a book. I have to. It will allow me to make sense of this experience and heal. I need to say this story out loud. I want to laugh about it and cry about it because it’s hilarious and tragic. And it does have a happy ending, after all. And I do care what you think about it. But mostly I care what I think about it.

So we all have that to look forward to, I suppose. And our wedding, which fills me with an overwhelming sense of dread to think about planning it. But it will be worth it. So, this is all just a Friday note to say, stick around, there are some really cool things coming. A gay wedding for one. And a book about parenting. And if you asked me 20 years ago, what I would be doing right now, I would have slapped you for suggesting that it would be this. But you just never know how things are going to turn out.

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whole family

 

© Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Gay expertise not included

When people find out that you’re gay, they sometimes have questions. Heck! When I found out I was gay, I had questions. What kinds of questions, you ask? Good question! (I’m trying to set a record for the most use of the word “question” in a single post.)

Any question that starts with the following: Why do gay people [blank]?

Example: Why do gay people cut their hair so short?

Uh, they do? Now I have a question, too. Do gay people cut their hair short?

I usually start to panic when something like this happens, because I am supposed to be a gay expert after all, because I am gay. And I want to be sure that I’m toeing the line. Doing my part to be gay enough to do good for all gay people and gayness in the world. And if there is something I don’t know about being gay, well then, maybe I’m not gay.

But I’m also tall. And people seem to have fewer questions about that, but again, I have few answers. And I feel like I’m am doing my part for tall people everywhere by just walking around being tall. I don’t belong to any tall groups. I don’t celebrate being tall on days set aside to celebrate tallness. I don’t play basketball. I can reach stuff on high shelves, so that’s pretty great. But I also don’t fit in some cars. But I don’t protest, because I wouldn’t want to be seen as against shortness. I am fairly certain that I’m taller than the average woman, but I don’t know exactly by how much. But I’m OK with that, because people don’t ask that question much, because, well, no one cares if you are tall or short. Its just the way it is. Unremarkable. Thank goodness.

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us

 

© Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Let’s caption this! (And you can win a shirt)

Our people have spoken, and they want this shirt! But we don’t know what to say about it. Can you think of a caption for this shirt? We’ll send you one if we pick your caption! So we’ll do the hard part…. and you can take all the credit.

Test tubes

Oh! And happy freedom week Canada and America!

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© Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sarah Ann Gilbert and Seven Little Mexicans with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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