VH Oak Cliff

If you haven’t eaten at VH Oak Cliff, you’re a fool. If you’ve stood at Jonathan’s and actually waited whilst there was an open table at VH, which is right next door, you’re cray. After murdering one buffalo fried chicken crepe, I pointed at my plate and said, “You did that.”  My husband’s pretty much committed adultery with his plate of Huevos Rancheros. And I ain’t mad. You hear (read) me!? (Note: this is a joke, our marriage is great, Mama) And our waitress, Mireya, was amazing. (Mr. T Voice) I pity the fool who chooses to wait for Jonathan’s instead of going to heaven at VH OAK CLIFF. From the atmosphere to the food and drinks, it’s a gift to you. Milk ordered the Angry Birds and Hubs had the Huevos Rancheros. The Kid had “I don’t care” because he was with my brother Nd sister-in-law while we ate kid free. Try to Indulge in the Santa Barbara Breeze and the Flying Mule. Those are Mommy and Daddy drinks, so they have alcohol in them, k?! Can’t wait for T. Nicole and J. Mo to come visit so we can eat here! 
VH Oak Cliff

1115 Beckley Ave (Corner of Beckley and Zang)

Dallas, TX 


Hiding How Babies Are Made

Yep. We hide it. The Kid is too smart for us (if that’s a thing). He’s been sleuthing around, trying to decipher how babies come to be since age 3. Last year, Hubs and I had actually crafted a perfect answer. One part pure truth, one part hazy glossed over stuff. It was masterful! We high-fived after coming up with it.

And then the day came that Hubs actually had to pull that answer out for use. The Kid cornered Hubs and hit him with the question. And guess what happened? Hubs forgot what to say. That perfectly crafted answer was just farting in the wind somewhere. Instead, he says, “We can talk about that later.” REALLY? So when I got home Hubs was all “thumbs and uhhs” and we were on the hot seat together. The Kid’s big eyes were on both of us and I too forgot the “perfect answer”. Instead, we ad-libbed in a kind of Improv Theater style way. I would say some cloudy BS, Hubs would say some cloudy BS until in the end our answer was “A man and a woman come together then God helps them put a little part from each of them together to make a baby.” We held our breath and stared back into The Kid’s big browns. Was that going to do it? At least for now? He must’ve known his parents we’re scared and that kinda scared him too. So he said “Ok! That makes sense!”

That was over a year ago. The Kid has been thinking on it for a while. He’s now 5. We’ve had a new baby cousin enter the picture. We’ve discussed Mammals and chicken eggs. One day he kept saying that he was pregnant and that’s why his stomach was big so we discussed the uterus. Recently he made connections and asked, “So do babies come out of your Booty?” Shit. Now we’re talking birth anatomy. He hit us with it at the dinner table. Once again, Hubs and I were all “thumbs and uhhs”.

It was clear that Hubs was willing to ignore this but I bit the bullet. “No, babies come out of a Mommy’s vagina.” Oh the shock and horror! This from the boy who was overheard telling his friend “Eeewww! Put your skirt down! I don’t want to see that!! Yuck!!” The trauma! “WHAT?! That’s disgusting!! How does the baby get in there?”, he asked. I went back to the old dumbed down answer of “Well, remember God brings part of the Mommy and part of the Daddy together? He does that in the Mommy’s uterus or womb. Then the baby grows and comes of out of the Mommy’s vagina when it’s ready”

The Kid thought on THAT for a few weeks. Then one day, over a pile of legos he looks up at me and asks, “So you have the egg and Daddy has something else? What does Daddy have?” Panic. Think fast Milk, think fast Milk. This is the same kid that told my client that he can’t wait to have underarm hair and was about to add pubic hair to the list when I nicely shooed him out of the classroom. This is the same kid who took off his pants and danced, butt and balls free, in Whole Foods. You cannot arm him with the word “sperm”. So I said, “Daddy fertilizes the egg.” Kid thinks on it and says, “So Daddy gives BooBoo to the egg?”

Enter my Cynical Self. The one who thinks Men are punks. The one who wouldn’t let Hubs attend our Dallas Baby Shower because after 5 months of vomiting and leg cramps from hell “he hadn’t endured as much as I had during the pregnancy”. Let’s call her Vaseline. She’s feisty. She snaps, blacks out, and needs Jesus to take the wheel….often. Vaseline put on her Lime Green Wig and told Milk, “YAAAAAS BIH! Men give the BooBoo HONEY!”

NO! Sit down, Vaseline! “Kid, it’s not BooBoo. It’s very important fertilizer that makes you special and part of your wonderful Daddy.” Vaseline rolled her eyes but agreed.

So this is where we are today:

1)Mommy and Daddy put an egg and fertilizer together. Perhaps in a high five?

2) Somehow it gets to the womb and grows with God’s help and blessing

3) Babies exit via the Vagina.

What age is right to talk about SEX? He’s heard the word, thanks to Hubs and James Brown. [Side story: One day, we were talking about grit. I complimented him on his grit saying “You worked hard and were victorious, like a warrior!” He says, “NO! Not a warrior! Like a SEX MACHINE, GET ON UP!” Face palm. Hubs refused to skip that song on the James Brown hits list.]

So what age is right to really explain sex? 5 is too early, no matter what you say. But I’d love to hear from veteran parents out there! And I feel like any day now this story will come full circle. When it does I’ll let you all know. Until then, remember, if you see The Kid, it’s Egg+Fertilizer > Womb > Vagina. The end.

(Looking forward to hearing from my veteran parents on when and how to give The Talk!!)



Why MilkBrain?

MilkBrain [milk breyn] noun

The changes she experienced during and after pregnancy that altered her world, life and mind. Milk is the main nourishment of the newborn forming a life/death and nurturing bond link between Mother and Child. Milk, specifically breast milk, is the most stressful meal to provide, causing many Mothers much anxiety, stress and sadness during the early months of motherhood, on and off. After weaning, Her brain is still trained on the baby’s survival and how she helps/aides/hinders it. Somewhere in there we talk about the Husband, with his amazing, fine, sexy, funny, crazy, perfect, smart, kind ass. Milk loves him deeply. You are entering her MilkBrain. It’s a fucking mess in here. Enjoy. And oh yeah, Marriage and Motherhood are the greatest gifts. (I don’t know why there’s a hint of sarcasm in that but there is)