So.

Most of you know that my son, Tony, was born with a foot deformity.  We have lovingly deemed it his “lucky foot”, and we’ve just recently started watching Finding Nemo.  As much as I want to be the fun-loving, easy-going mom, I hear a LOT of myself in Marlin, Nemo’s over-protective father.

Case in point: letting him jump on a trampoline at the mall.  I was FUHREAKING out.  His foot!  What if his foot isn’t strong enough?  What if he puts undue stress on the OTHER foot as a result?  OH GOD, HIS FEET ARE DRIVING ME BONKERS.

Thing is, Tony?  Hasn’t noticed his feet.  He made mention of his brace when he was still wearing one, but it’s been a year without a brace now, and he never mentions a difference between the two feet.  (And believe me, it doesn’t handicap him AT ALL.  He is as crazy and rambunctious as any two year old.)

SO .. do I tell him?

Here’s my two schools of thought:

School A – we’re going to have to have major surgery on this foot, probably in the next two or three years.  It will be a painful recovery, as we’re most likely having to do a bone-lengthening procedure on this foot to even out his legs.  Wouldn’t it be less confusing or less shocking if he knew ahead of time that one foot is different than the other?

School B – why make a mountain out of a molehill?  He’s perfectly happy as is.  Why create some sort of issue where there currently is none?

I really will listen to all suggestions, but please, don’t get preachy on me.  There are not words for how heavily this weighs on my heart, so please be respectful.  To me and to eachother. 

Or as Tony would say, “Love EVERYBODY!!”

Friday night, the boys decided to see how strong I truly am and they persuaded me to let my baby .. MY BABEH!! .. jump on a bouncy, bungee jumpy thingie in the middle of the mall.

I agreed, but I shook and sweated through the entire thing. 

Tony?  Had a ball.

Be sure to check out my latest review over at Reviews Under the Anvil Tree! I check out Nature’s Basin and Soleo Organic Sunscreen!

OKAY, lemme just say:

I love the internetz in all of its glory and, in all honesty, I have a very tight group of online BFFs who often keep me sane, but the internet?  This week?  Is REALLY PISSING ME OFF.

I CAN.NOT remember the last time I had to write a post defending myself.  It was easily years ago.  Maybe four years ago?  I dunno.  But a long damn time ago.  And even since then, I’ve been slandered, called names, whatever, but the charges were never so egregious that I felt the need to step forward and go, Wait, whoa.  Hold up.  Pump your brakes; slow your roll.

But WE ARE THERE NOW.

I wrote a post on MamaPop that was covering the news that a “tell-all” was being published that featured Christopher Reeve having an affair with a male porn-star.  I wrote the piece from the angle of, No, he’s MY boyfriend! Superman is in love with MEEE! and now?

I’m being accused of having homophobia.

… um, say what?

And when I defend myself, and say, “No, I don’t have homophobia, actually.  I run with a very liberal crowd,” which is ENTIRELY true.  Dude, I run with derby and actors.  THAT’S LIBERAL.  And then I got smacked in the face with, “That’s like saying you’re not racist because you have black friends.”

WELL, OUTSIDE OF ME BEING IN A HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIP, I DON’T HAVE MUCH MORE TO OFFER IN THE WAY OF TESTIMONY AS TO HOW I AM NOT, IN FACT, HOMOPHOBIC.

Want how I volunteered with the Aids Action Coalition for years?

Want how I have demonstrated to end the “traditional” marriage ban?

Want my NOH8 twibbon?

I’ve been called a lot of things in my years online, but this one really has me hurt.  Because the people they’re accusing me of being are the people I’ve been fighting AGAINST.  And while I know I should just let it slide off my back .. be the duck, Sarah, be the duck .. I AM JUST FUCKING LIVID OVER THESE WORDS.

I am not racist.  I don’t see color.  I don’t see gender preference.  I am, however, elitist and I think that Christopher Reeve getting with a porn star is gross.  There.  There’s my bias.  I am pornaphobic.  I don’t care if the porn star was male, female, or a FUCKING DONKEY, that there is my Superman and only *I* can be his Kryptonite!