Visitation

My mom is a wicked wicked lady. She's motoring into town this evening around 9 pm, and we've got a jam-packed schedule. I've been a little anxious about having her here, just because, well, she's my mom. And I've got a fuck of a lot of work stuff/writing to get done this week. But she's coming and so I set out to find us things to do.

"Do you want to come to yoga?" I asked.
"Sure," she replied. "I've always wanted to try it, but have been a little scared for my body. So it will be good to go to a class you've vetted."
"I'm also going to this thing on Wednesday night. It's this transman. Like he used to be a woman, but now he identifies as a man."
"Uh huh." Bored. She knows this already.
"So he's doing this comedy thing at the store, and I wrote an article about it, so I'd really like to go."
"Well, that sounds very interesting."
"It's about trans body issues, and gender and sexuality and family and stuff. I thought you might find it interesting, but I wasn't sure."
"Well, I'm usually interested in everything."

That's no lie. She really is. She's a curious woman. She likes to know things, and give advice about the things she knows, which is sometimes hard to take (perhaps because it reminds me of me in a way I don't like), but it also makes her easy. Because her first reaction to most new things is "Oh, I'd like to know more about that." There's no cajoling, no sitting around being bored, no "Oh, I can't do this because Mom would freak out." She doesn't freak out. She's willing to give almost anything a shot.

She's also generous, and makes sure that we always have enough time to drive to the Superstore so I can pick up a couple of giant boxes of kitty litter.

So I'm less anxious now. We've got lots on our plate, and she can talk around the events, that's for sure. The only thing giving me a little anxiety now is that I asked the Great Dater if he wants to come for dinner and meet my mom. He gave a pretty sure yes. Aie. I'm sure they'll get along, because they're both nice people, and she would be crazy not to like him. What's not to like? I ask you.

But asking him in the first place was a little nerve wracking. That's serious. You don't introduce someone to your mother unless you really like them. So asking him felt like saying "Hi, I'm serious about you." Which is a little unsettling, considering that I have never once called him my boyfriend, and have been somewhat reticent to even say that we're dating. I mean, we hang out a couple times a week and we're sleeping together, and he gives me a nice glowy feeling when I'm around him or I think about him, but dating? What is dating anyway? Maybe we are, maybe we aren't. Meh, what do I know?

I said something along those lines to Shelley not long ago.

"Megan," she said, "sometimes you are such a dude about relationships."