This is going to be me when I eventually become a motherI don't really talk about my family much in the confines of this blog. For the most part, I tend to focus on blogs and entries that are relatively impersonal to myself and the individuals in my life; rants about corrupt politicians, reviews of the latest Blockbuster films, and the extent of my gay gay life are typically the genres I work with. However, I was inspired by a recent conversation I had with my mother, so I felt the need to write.

I was talking to my mother on the phone the other day and she mentioned that she read my blog and has read every single entry ... oh god ... even the ones about my nights of drunken sluttery at the clubs .... oops. Then she mentioned "Oh Chris, your Aunt wanted me to tell you that you accidentally spelled Lewisville incorrectly in the biography on your blog". Wait ... what ... my Aunt now reads my blog. My mother nonvhalantly stated "of course we do, have been for a while, oh and when I saw your father the other day I told him all about your blog. He had no idea, so gave him the address to check it out". Wait, wait, wait .... now you're telling me that my father is potentially reading my blog now ... Hi Mom, Dad, Aunt Barb :)

When I began this blog, I didn't really advertise it to my family. I kept it on the down low, primarily in case I need to poke fun at my family (just kidding, but not really), but also because I didn't think my parents would appreciate or care to know the ridiculous adventures of their 25 year old gay drag queen son, striving for success and fame in the entertainment world. Perhaps I am not giving my parents enough credit and maybe in some respects they are waiting for me to broach the subject with them. Typically when I talk to my parents we discuss my job, improvements each of my parents are making on their respective homes, or my sister. We do not discuss my latest headdress or the ridiculous eye shadow I just got that is going to make me look like a 4th street hooker. For whatever reason, those topics don't come up.  

I think queer people in our society still to this day struggle with which aspects of their life that they are going to share with friends, lovers, employers, and family members. If you grew up in an area where you were closeted about your identity, you spent an exorbitant amount of energy maintaining the lie and ignoring or suppressing your true feelings. I found that even after I came out - and I CAME OUT by giving a speech to 700 people - that it was hard to talk about these facets of my identity and the parts of my life that I held guarded for so long. Both of my parents know that I am gay - and a drag queen as I came to learn later - but there is still something that holds me back from full disclosure. For so long you don't have the conversation with your parents because you fear their reaction; well now I am 25, a self-sufficient independent woman of the 21st century, and yet I still find myself paralyzed in conversation. I am blessed that all my parents want out of life for me is to be happy, and I can decide for myself, what that looks like.

So now my entire family are fans of my blog, which is completely awesome, however now I am going to be a little more cognizant of my entries in the future. A girl has to keep some mystery about her and like I said, I don't need to have my mother know that sometimes I find myself ass up in strange locations not really quite sure how I got there ... or something like that.

They decorate onesies with inspirational Lady Gaga lyrics ;)

This past weekend a good friend of mine hosted a baby show in honor of an adorable – I’m assuming – baby boy named Benjamin. I have never attended a baby shower in my life and, though I am practically a woman, I just assumed that this would be one of those strange and mystical rituals that I would never take part in. I didn’t really know what to expect; I assumed we would eat food, play an assortment of “baby-related” games and ultimately watch the mother-to-be tear through a slue of exquisitely wrapped presents.

I walked into my friend’s home and every single head turned, the same confused look sprawled across their faces. I think it took people a little while to re-shift their paradigm for this party, to see a male in, what is typically known as, an all-female space. With shifting definitions of family and what that looks like, it is not uncommon that we overhauling many of our “family-centered rituals” and modifying them to be more current. Besides, if I am going to be little Benjamin’s fairy auntie than, I better get a damn invite to the party ;) There were moments though where I felt a bit out of place; however we did learn that I KICK ASS at baby shower games. Here is a little bit of my inner monologue from the party.

“hmm I don’t have a vagina, or a husband, or children …. Well now that we have exhausted all possible conversation topics, let’s grab some more cupcakes!”

 Of course, it didn’t help that when it came time to decorate the onesies for baby Benjamin, I decided to take a less-than-traditional direction for decorating mine. While many patrons of the party decided to embroider their onesies with adorable messages of cuteness like “My Mom is My Bestie”, I decided to impart to Benjamin practical advice that will help mold and guide him as he goes through life.  I decided to write lyrics from Lady Gaga’s most recent hit “Born this Way” and drew “Don’t Be a Drag Just be a Queen” on his onesies. A few of the guests were a little confused. A told my friend that she just had to take one photo of Benjamin in the onesies and then she could conveniently “lose” it.

Ultimately I learned much from the experience; the inner world of mothers and child-rearing. I didn’t realize that you need so much crap in order to properly raise a child. I thought you simply needed tings like bottles, blankets, and love in order to raise a child. Apparently you need such devices as a Pack-N-Play and rubber duckies that turn a different color if the water is too hot along with an assortment of other gadgets and trinkets. Also, apparently there is a slue of lotions and creams necessarily to successfully navigate a pregnancy/infant, including Butt Paste and Nipple Crème. Frankly, it sounded all too overwhelming – kind of like a houseplant at times seems overwhelming to me. Maybe I’ll try to keep the houseplant alive and gradually upgrade from there.