I missed yesterday’s February Photofest post. I had running around to do, then spent the afternoon with my daughter and mom, teaching Mom how to use the Instapot my dad just got her. Like my mom really needed another kitchen gadget. Name a gadget or one-use kitchen item in the universe, and it’s somewhere in my mom’s kitchen. But it was a pleasant-enough afternoon, if you discount the horrible weather I had drive in, which put me hours behind in my “to-do before I go out to the party with V” list, and posting here was (only) one of the things that got left undone. I’m okay with the sacrifice, though. Every hour I get to spend with my elderly momma is a blessing, to say nothing of getting my daughter all to myself in the car for two hours. All those things that you would tell your younger self in a letter if you could? I get to tell them to her.
“Don’t postpone joy.”
“Say yes more often.”
“Say no with authority. You don’t need to make excuses.”
“Choose. Live proactively, not reactively.”
“It’s okay to fail. Everybody does. It’s how you respond to that failure that shows your character. Learn from it and move on.”
“Love with abandon. In the end, it’s all we have, our love for one another.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Okay, I don’t tell her those things all at one sitting, but, you know, piecemeal, as the occasion arises. And she responds with typical Ana things:
“Wear your sunscreen, Ma.”
“Take some time for yourself.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” (It appears we both need to be reminded of that.)
We talked serious stuff, too: her at-times dissatisfying relationship with her live-in boyfriend; Adam’s father’s recent mental and physical deterioration; her younger brother’s relationship challenges. We talked about the structure of my relationships, and how they work – and what I find challenging in them. We talked about mental health and sexual health, and what it means to have a healthy relationship. The challenges she has with her boyfriend are similar to the ones I had with Adam when we lived together; moving into my own place saved our relationship. She doesn’t believe it would be a workable solution for theirs, though. It’s at once wonderful and heart-wrenching watching her making these life choices, but regardless of how I feel about them, I know I am blessed to have these kinds of conversations with her. I wish I had been able to be so open, so frank, with my mom at her age.
And then, after dinner from the Instapot at my mom’s, and dropping the daughter off at home, I arrived home to get ready and go to a kink party with V. I’ll use these images – before and after the party – for my February Photofest submissions for yesterday and today.
I love the way that dress dips so low and displays the dimple in my back. And…yeah, I even like the round fullness of my butt in the second one. I don’t often get to see myself as curvy. The “V”‘s that Viper stamped into my flesh are a bonus. It’s too bad that you can’t see the slashes and welts from the singletail he used on me too.
(I had thought about making this post into two posts – the juxtaposition of talking about my family and kink in the same post was at first disconcerting to me. But then I decided not to…these are all snapshots of my life, of me. I am all these things: mother, lover, kinkster, daughter. Being a loving mother does not preclude me from being a sexual being. Perhaps that is another one of those things I should tell my daughter.)
Check out the other Sunday Sinners by clicking the lips below.