?

Log in

No account? Create an account
NOH8

April 2011

S M T W T F S
     12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930

my (our) books

Fool for Love When You Don't See Me

Someone Like You I'm Your Man

He's The One It Had To Be You

The Mammoth Book of New Gay Erotica Best Gay Erotica 2007

Best Gay Love Stories: New York City Best Gay Love Stories 2005

Three Fortunes In One Cookie The Deal

contact

If you have any of the above books and would like them signed, mail them to:

P.O. Box 131845, Houston, TX., 77219.

Please include three dollars for return postage.

Send email to timothyjlambert@gmail.com


Warning: This blog may contain homosexuals which in the states of California and Maine have been alleged to destroy the sanctity of marriage. Read at your own risk.



Jon%20DeMichaelQuantcast


recommended courses of action


Scout's Honor Rescue is an all-breed, no-kill, Not-For-Profit 501(c)(3) animal rescue organization committed to bringing courage, character and compassion to Houston's homeless pet population and making a positive difference in the lives of these stray and abandoned animals and the Houston community as a whole. 100% of every dollar donated goes directly to saving the life of a homeless animal.

Scouts Honor Rescue Inc.

locally known

join(RED)

maine AIDS alliance

global AIDS alliance

UNAids

AIDS foundation houston

bering omega community services

frannie peabody center


Timothy's hair by Larry Henderson Hair Design.


Powered by LiveJournal.com

carry you home


When I picked up Hanley from school last Tuesday she was bent over a table, methodically loading fake gold coins into a porcelain pig, perhaps rehearsing for a future role as Ebenezer Scrooge. Or, maybe she projecting and practicing for hard times ahead. Or, she could have been readying my payments for the week. In any event, she was doing a good job of avoiding the fact that I was there to pick her up. Her attention kept diverting between me and the pig, and she was so obviously torn between the porcine plaything and putting away her toy so she could gather her things and leave with me like a fine and upstanding child. The choice was obvious: Remain calm, keep playing with the pig, and maybe the manny will go away! No such luck. After asking her nicely three times to put the pig away and get her things, I went over to the coat rack and found her lunch box and jacket. Then I stood behind her and said, "Hanley, put your stuff away so we can leave. NOW."

When she turned around, she looked stricken, an expression I see every now and then when I have to get stern with her, as if I'd verbally slapped her cheek. It's a look I have to pointedly ignore, because it's designed to make an adult drop to their knees and beg for forgiveness. Kids can look extremely cute and/or very pathetic when they need to. It's survival. It keeps them alive when a nearby adult has been pushed to the limit. But I pushed through and didn't allow my expression to change, so she'd know that I meant what I said. She got up from her chair, placed the pig on a tray, and immediately became distracted by a grain of sand on the floor. "What's that?" she asked, pointing downward, her latest in an arsenal of delaying tactics, most often employed at bedtime. "It's a grain of sand. Keep moving," I said. At the door, I tried to put on her jacket, but she shrank from me and looked wounded. "You have to put on your jacket," I stated. Perhaps as exhausted as I was by the situation, she gave in and then shuffled to the door like a dead toddler walking.

The next day was similar. But when I held open her jacket for her to slip into, she screamed, "No!" and ran from me. My mouth fell open. Of course she had argued with me before, but she'd never yelled at me so obnoxiously. I could feel many toddler heads turn, many little eyes upon us, many little minds of her classmates possibly thinking, Uh-oh. Hanley's gonna get it. I heard myself use all three of her names and, just like that, I turned into my and several of my friends' mothers. I remembered a tactic Hanley's mother told me about and employed it immediately. "Hanley P______ C______, if you don't put this jacket on right now, I'm going to pick you up and carry you to the car."

A totally different Hanley--one full of sweetness and light, followed by scampering and twittering Disney woodland creatures--skipped over to me and put on her jacket. Her hand slipped into mine and she smiled as I led her to the classroom door. "Good bye!" I said to her teacher. "See you tomorrow!" her teacher said, but the implied message behind it sounded like Well played!

Comments