I'm lucky enough to have a fabulous relationship with my mom.  We don't always perfectly understand each other, but we know each other better than almost anyone else knows us.  And I really wish I could be celebrating Mothers' Day with her today (albeit one of those arbitrary holidays that we celebrate largely because Hallmark tells us to--but that doesn't change the fact that it's a day we all think about moms). 

Anyway, in honor of Mothers' Day, I thought I'd combine Butch Wonders themes with mothering and pose the following questions to readers:

1. When you were a kid, did you think you'd be a mom?
   
2. Where were you when you came out to your mom (if you're out)?
   
3. What are two major traits you and your mom share?
   
4. What's something your mom taught you?
   
5. Name a mom you wish you could be with today (besides your own).
   
   

I'll go first.

1. No way!  I wanted--maybe, at the most--to be a dad.  To me, this meant going to work all day and not being involved in childcare.
2. At a PF Chang's.  We were out to lunch and I said, "Mom, I have something to tell you."  And then I burst into tears right in the middle of P.F. Chang's.  My mom asked, "Are you okay?  Are you going to die?  Do you have cancer?"  I shook my head.  "Is someone you love or I love about to die?"  I shook my head again.  She said, "Well, then whatever it is, it'll be okay."  Then we ate lemon chicken.  I think it took her some time to accept my sexual orientation, and maybe a little longer than that to accept my butchiness.  I guess "process" is a better word than "accept," because I've never felt "unaccepted" by my mom. And I've never regretted not being open as my "whole" self to her. After all, she's the one who taught me that it was not only okay but great(!) to be quirky and different from all the other kids.
3. Tenacity and creativity.
   
4. The importance of being a surVIVor, as she says--meaning persevering in the face of adversity.  When life throws her lemons, my mom does not get discouraged, nor does she "make lemonade."  Instead, she catches the lemons and stacks them into a pile, then uses the pile to get somewhere she'd rather be. Or she, like, makes a car out of lemons and drives away. She is pretty darned awesome.
5. My mom's mom.  She died many years ago.  I still think about her a lot. She was an amazing, philosophical, totally self-made woman.
   
   

How about you, dear readers?  What are your answers to some of these questions?

Lots of people get to Butch Wonders through searches for things like "gifts for my butch sister" or "gifts for my lesbian daughter."  People who don't align with typical gender norms can be tough for some people to shop for.

For specific ideas, I've updated the Butch Store with 25 Gift Ideas for Butches, including gifts for sporty butches, student/professional butches, and dapper butches.  (Butches, I hope you'll share other ideas with me!)

Additionally, here are some general gift-giving tips geared specifically for straight or gender-binary people who are having trouble finding gifts for lesbians, butches, or other masculine women (much of the advice applies more broadly, too). 

1. Give gifts without regard to traditional gender.  We don't care if something comes from the men's section.  We'd love to know that you thought of us, not our sex.  There's no need to hunt through the women's department to find the one thing you think we'll like there.
   
2. Be observant.  If your lesbian daughter only wears men's sweaters and you give her one from the women's department because you didn't think it was "that feminine," you're probably going to be off the mark.  There's a reason she only wears guys' sweaters; factors like cut, length, sizing, etc. are different, even if you don't notice them.  (On the other hand, if she wears stuff from both departments, cool.)
   
3. Avoid criticism of our gender presentation cloaked as a gift.  If you think we could "dress a little more feminine," giving us a purse is not an effective way to share that sentiment.  Gifts are awesome when they show that you get who a person is, not who you wish she was.
4. Butches like self-pampering, too.  Just because we don't like perfumey stuff doesn't mean we don't like body scrubs and the like.  Go for more neutral scents, like mint or eucalyptus (this may mean you look in the guys' section).  Many butches also like massages, facials, and other self-care things--just make sure you know whether we'd be comfortable with it (you can ask our girlfriend or friends, too).
   
5. Avoid buying the same thing for all the men or all the women in the family.  When I was a kid, men would get flashlights or cologne and women would get bubble bath or chocolate.  Personally, I like all of these things, but the fact that gifts were divided along gender lines--rather than tailored to the person receiving them--often made me (a gender-nonconforming little butch in the making) feel uncomfortable.  It reinforces gender norms and implicitly says that all people of type x or type y are the same.  Would you ever give all your black friends one kind of gift and your white friends another?  No!  It's incredibly insulting to imagine!  Gender is very different from race, of course, but it's useful to think about it this way as a mental exercise: are you seeing the person, or are you seeing the person's sex or gender?  

I hope these tips and the butch gifts I suggest are helpful.  Meanwhile, I'd welcome questions from anyone trying to buy butch/lesbian gifts, as well as any other tips people would like to share!  Does this resonate with you?

In an bout of productivity, I've been buying my Christmas gifts early--mainly because my DGF and I have to buy gifts for people we don't know super well (my brother's in-laws and their family).  They're doing a "stocking exchange," meaning that everyone puts a small gift into everyone else's stocking.

The upshot?  I'm turning into a semi-pro stocking stuffer. I figured sharing my ideas might save you some time finding cool gifts.  So forget the bubble bath and candy canes and check out these ideas.  My categories are food, practical, and fun.  All are under $15 (and most are under $10!).

#3: Everything imported from France is vaguely classy and expensive, right?  This 5-star mango lime ginger jam by L'Epicurien is no exception.  There are several other flavors, most around $8-14.  These include confit of rose petals (edible?), banana flambee jam (how do they light a fire in that tiny jar?), and confit d'ananas au poivre de penja (whatever that is).

5 Fun and Frivolous Stocking Stuffers
These are great gifts for kids, people in their 20s, or anyone who you think would appreciate something kind of colorful/fun/frivolous.

Hey all!  So I've been in bed with mono for two weeks.  I'm definitely starting to feel better, but DANG mono can last a long time.  Being sick has gotten downright mono-tonous.  Har, har.  I've eaten boatloads of saltines, grown tired of red Gatorade (the original kind--this G2/G3 business is cray cray), and played dozens (hundreds?) of rounds of Gems with Friends.

Meanwhile, the out-of-doors has become downright fall-ish in my neck of the woods.  Though I've yet to consume my two favorite autumn foods, candy corn and pumpkin pie, I'm in a November mood.  Some people are posting one thing for which they're grateful every day this month (thanks for the tipoff, Bee Listy).  But I thought I'd shoot my proverbial gratefulness wad all at once (yes, I really did just write that sentence) and list 30 things here and now.  Boom.

1. The election results!  A president who isn't scared to mention The Gays in his acceptance speech!  Elizabeth Warren!  Maine and Maryland!  There is much to celebrate.
2. Fiction!  The pleasure of reading stories, of turning pages, of becoming subsumed in the printed word.  Right now I'm reading Murakami's Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman and Bolano's The Savage Detectives, and am enjoying both very much.
3. My DGF (dear girlfriend)!  Her mischievous smile, her dancing, her sense of humor, her curiosity about the world--all of these things make me happy, and I love her more every day.
4. A sense of relative security!  Sure, I have student loans up the wazoo and earn a rather wee salary, but on a day-to-day basis, I don't wonder if I can afford groceries or heat, and that is an incredibly comforting feeling that many people do not get to have.
   
5. Coffee! 
   
6. Beaches!
7. Succulents!  Recently my DGF and I have gotten addicted to succulents, and have been having a lot of fun growing them.  You can propagate them from leaves!  How cool is that?  (Answer: very.)
   
8. BW readers!  I love that I get to write something a lot of people enjoy reading.  I am very grateful that you read this blog.
   
9. Friends!  BB, CB, KC, MK, JG, DD, SJB, E&E, MT, LR, TH, and many others.  Friends give me perspective and make me feel loved. 
   
10. Warm showers!
11. Being a butch lesbian!  I'm grateful that I can present the way I really am, be out, and be me--fleece vests and all.
    
12. My dog, Scout!  Scout is my buddy.  Loyal, smart, playful, and absurdly well-behaved.  When I go running, she goes with me.  When I'm sick, she never leaves my side.  Especially if I'm eating something.
13. Dr. W!  My therapist is amazing.  She helps me understand who I am, gain courage, work on my strengths, and be a better person.  She also has a fabulous BS-detector (important when working with me). 
14. Projects!  I love having projects going.  Research projects, art projects, writing projects.  Projects, projects.
    
15. Fruit!  Particularly pomegranates and Fuyu persimmons (the flat kind).
16. Trail running!  I want to work up to doing a lot more of it, because I find it exhilarating and challenging.  
17. Rainy days!
18. Sunny days!
19. Music!  Music can elevate my mood, stir up memories or make me dance.  I am also grateful for the ability to make up my own songs (something which is almost certainly not on my DGF's gratitude list).
20. My new shoes!  They're making my plantar fasciitis feel a little better.  Plus, they are orange, and I love orange.
21. My parents!  I am absurdly similar to them in some ways and absurdly different in others.  My relationship with them has evolved a great deal and their support for me has been unwavering.  I love them immensely.
    
22. My friendship with my mom!  This deserves its own list item. 
    
23. Home!  I live in a place I really like--both the house and the region. 
    
24. Writing!  Of all kinds.  Words to paper.  Words to screen.  Words to napkins in ballpoint pen.  Words words words.
    
25. My brother, sister-in-law, and niece (+1 on the way)!  They're an awesome family, and I can't wait to hang out with them next month.
26. The smells on my drive home!  There are all kinds of trees on my way home, and I love how they smell: piney and earthy and dewy.
    
27. Humor!  God, I'm grateful for humor.  I find many things amusing or silly or ironic, and I love seeing the world this way.
    
28. My DXH!  I've written a whole lot about him in the past, but suffice it to say that I have an incredibly loving, supportive ex-husband, and I'm grateful that he's such an important part of my life.
    
29. Second chances!  Whether it's a relationship or a writing rejection or a dozen push-ups, second chances are the best.
    
30. Things to look forward to!  I love having things to look forward to.  Vacations, down time with my DGF, books to read, plans with friends, cool work projects...  There was a time in my life when I lost the ability to look forward to things, and I think that makes me especially grateful for it now.

What's on your gratefulness list, dear readers?  Comment below and list at least three things, large or small.  As many as you want.

BW NOTE: This is a guest post by a reader who wanted to remain anonymous.  She recently faced the dreaded decision of pissing off a friend or wearing a (ugh!) dress...

A few months ago, my cousin cast me as a bridesmaid in her wedding.  Sensing my possible reluctance in the wardrobe department, she immediately informed me that I would be wearing a dress. Period. Because my cousin and I grew up together as friends, I made no verbal protest (BTW: This BW post is a must read for any straight bride with a lesbian (non-femme) bridesmaid).

As details of the dress leaked, my dread grew. The bride had selected a purple gown with "challenging" qualities from top to bottom.  On the bottom, the bridesmaids would sport a train (i.e. a bunch of fabric dragging behind us). On top, we would endure a strapless bodice with boning. For those unfamiliar with boning, a little history lesson: Boning (in the context of fashion) refers to the straight-jacket-like metal that serves to hold in your fat and position your breasts appropriately yet provocatively. Historically, dress designers used actual whalebone.

When the bride began sharing details of the dress, I might have failed to exhibit the requisite level of enthusiasm (one of my flaws is an inability to conceal disdain). When the bride inquired, I politely reminded her of my hatred for dresses, lace, and frilly things.

During the early stages of the engagement (a year or so before the wedding), I felt comfortable airing my concerns to the bride. During one conversation, my cousin pointed out that I had worn a dress to her sweet sixteen and to our high school homecoming dance. I had indeed. I went to a very homogeneous high school and dared not defy convention during my tender adolescence.  The bride failed to grasp why, 10 years later, I couldn’t again conform for the purposes of her happiness.

Because I’m petite and naturally pretty feminine looking (though I definitely err on the masculine side of clothes, hair, and shoes), I think my cousin had trouble understanding why a dress would pose such a serious hardship. Had I presented in a more masculine way, she might have more easily seen how dresses don’t fit with my gender identity. I could have explained, but in the context of her wedding planning, it didn’t seem like the right time to delve into the intersection between my sexual orientation, gender identity, and wardrobe choices.

At one point, sensing my lack of enthusiasm for her dress selection, the bride proposed that I just rent a tux with a vest to match the bridesmaids' dresses. Now we were onto something! But before I could enthusiastically assent, she continued, more outlandishly: "While you’re at it, you could stand with the groomsmen, because that wouldn’t look weird." Her final suggestion—that I attend the bachelor party—made her sarcasm impossible to ignore. When I persisted in expressing enthusiasm for her suggestions (minus the strippers—she knows I find female strippers unappealing), she ended the conversation with an abrupt, "You’re wearing the dress and I don’t want to hear another word about it."

Even when I stopped complaining to her face, the bride continued to worry about my ability to function as a bridesmaid, inquiring as to who would handle my makeup on the big day. When I responded "me," the bride proved unsatisfied, correctly assuming that I lacked the materials and the will to adequately cake myself. Earrings were also strongly recommended to counter my short (read: dykey) haircut. I borrowed some from a co-worker, and with a running start managed to re-pierce my ear hole in a bathroom stall (only my left one had closed over the years).

I tried to respect the "no dress talk" rule, opting instead to write whiny entries in my journal and complain about the cost and fittings to my friends.  As the wedding neared, my friends advised me to keep my big mouth shut and let the bride enjoy her big day.

On the eve of the wedding, the bride furnished each bridesmaid with a gift and enclosed a note. Most notes recognized the bonds of friendship, and the affection she had in her heart for each of us. My letter simply thanked me for not leaving her side even if it meant, wearing a bridesmaid gown. I felt a huge wave of guilt. The bride had been a good friend to me in other ways, and had welcomed my girlfriend at the wedding. Couldn’t I just have dealt with the fabric monstrosity, the bloody left ear hole, and the caked-on face for her special day?

At the wedding, I dealt with my suffering in the form of liquid relief, dancing the night away, and tying my train into a tail with a rubber band  (and perhaps slapping my dance partners with it). With the help of only seven vodka-themed libations, I did have a blast.  I wore the dress for 10 straight hours (I was given instructions not to change out of it at the reception), and I survived (though the tight bodice did a number on my back).

Post-wedding, when I think back to the note, I shudder. I have no idea how I could have handled it better. I wanted to be her bridesmaid, and I certainly didn’t want to ruin her special day. Had Butch Wonders posted this article a bit earlier, I might have sent the bride the link. That way, she’d have known how I felt and had a few creative solutions at her disposal (she was actually on the right track in her sarcasm). Even though my morning routine allows me to ready myself for work in three minutes or less, on my cousin's big day this low-maintenance dyke made for a high-maintenance bridesmaid.