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For five short years I was an only child.

Then one day my mom and dad called me into the living room where they sat, shoulder against shoulder, and said they had a surprise for me. Immediately I ran giggle-screaming to the front porch where I expected to see a shiny new bike complete with pink ribbon. I trudged back to the living room looking like I’d just been asked to donate money to some pointless cause. Mom and dad sat smiling, mom rubbing her planetary belly (at school I’d been cutting back on Goldfish after seeing mom swell up as she had begun eating more and more recently).

“What’s the surprise?”

They looked at each other adoringly.

“You’re going to be a big sister, Julia”


cricket, cricket

I wish I had a tape of my face at that moment. Expressions must have crossed my face like facebook pictures cross the screen of a procrastinating student.

random baby demonstrating my initial reaction

Blank. Confusion. Glimmer of understanding. More confusion. Astonishment. Disappointment. Glee.
“COOOOOOOL!” I yelped and danced around.

But, as with the receipt of most life-changing news, this still had to sink in. My half-decade-old brain had some serious shit to sort out. So, of course, I took my worries to kindergarten art class.

“I see you’re working with clay, whatchya makin’ there, kiddo?”

(Wait, was this bug-eyed teacher reinforcing the name of the material to try to get it into my skull because I was slow or something?)

“Some chairs”

“I see that! Wow, they look fantastic! Why are you making those, sport?”

(She seemed to be addressing me as a dude, probably because I looked like a dude)

little older five-years-old my chunky-punk stage

“They’re for my new little sister that I’m going to have”

(If I was her, I would’ve been like ‘Oh you’re pregnant? You’re not even showing!’)

“Little sister! Wow! You’re going to be such a great big….sibling!”

(That was it – I hiked up my skirt to show her my lack-of-a-penis and screamed “I’M A GIRL!”)

“Thanks, I know”

So I made 100 tiny clay chairs for my new baby sister that I was going to have. She was going to need somewhere to sit, right? I don’t know what I was thinking, but now we have a bag of grey dust in our cellar that I’m told used to be my 100 chairs…

prints for sale - 8.5 x 11 or (new!) POSTER SIZE

You must be wondering if I persevered with art and clay in particular.

Here is my most recent clay creation:

yep. from chairs to bras. both man-made luxuries that hold our cumbersome weight. bam.

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