Newsletter: Month 3

"J, my boy,"



Today you are 3 months old.



Mommy just came back from the hospital, and there is some sad news to tell you about your Papa's mom. This last month has been filled with joy, celebrations with family, and quiet times watching you develop and expand in cuteness, but your "G.G." passed away this afternoon and that will overshadow most of this letter to you. Even though she's been sick these last few months, she's been in good spirits and never more so than when she was holding or talking to you, Mac, and Cam-cam.



When I got to the hospital today, I bent down to say "Hi Geej."* She smiled sweetly when she saw me, and through her morphine haze she asked, "How's J?" After I told her you were doing great, she smiled again and then she muttered "J. my boy..." several times as she settled back into sleep.



*When her first great grandchild was born, my gram renamed herself G.G. (as in Great-Grandma) but when she signed cards, she wrote, "Gigi," fully embracing her new, more exotic identity. She allowed us grand kids to tease her and we shortened her name to the one syllable, "Geej." And she giggled pretty much every time we said it.



The events leading up to today, when grandma passed away, have made me proud to raise you in a family that takes such good care of each other. When G.G. needed a place to stay, my mom (your Nana) didn't hesitate to tell my dad to bring her home. My dad (your Papa) spent every day for the last 4 months making his home more comfortable for her, talking to her, laughing with her, comforting her, placing his grandchildren in her arms, and tucking her into bed. When she was short of breath, he carried her up the stairs at night. When she was hospitalized and moved to a nursing home last week, he spent most of the hours of every day visiting her and helping to coordinate her care. He was by her side, holding her hand and stroking her hair for most of her last 20 hours and at the time of her death.



But that's not all. So many people in our life teach us generosity by practicing it and not preaching it. Grandma Bella spent special time with GG, taking care of her, offering companionship and friendship as well as support to her daughter and son in law. Your Uncle Bill and especially your Aunt Teri were selfless and tireless in the time they offered to Geej, making sure their daughters got to know and love their GG. Your mama was here every day listening, offering support, and loving us. Your grannies were here today, and they babysat you and went grocery shopping, and prepared a meal of wonderful comfort-food.



We will try to teach you that death is a part of life, that being good to each other while we are here is the only thing that matters. Hopefully the reward of a life well-lived is more than the combination of who you leave behind and what happens in the next realm; but my eyes are a little misty knowing that you will grow up not ever remembering your GG and her crazy stories. She was independent-minded, energetic, and spirited as a younger woman. She was bright and had kind eyes and a semi-permanent smile. She loved a good tale, a catchy tune, and a quick wit. She appreciated mischievousness. If she called you "a rascal" it was a compliment.



Your Papa was her baby boy. He has no choice but to lead us in this grief process. I feel sure that you and your cousins (more than any of us) will be the ones that fill his heart with the peace and comfort he seeks. (If you can, fall asleep on his chest regularly and often... that seems to be the best therapy for any heartache.)



Just a few days ago, we celebrated our first Christmas together. It was exhausting, but you know... wonderful. You were a star as the baby Jesus in the Christmas pageant. You had your eyes open the entire time and just sort of bobbed your head looking around, curiously during the entire "show". You were just as big a hit playing the part of "tiny parishioner," when we went back for the 9pm service.



We finally put you in your own room this month. We set up a space heater so both mommies could feel comfortable having you 2 doors away without a blanket (as recommended by all health care providers.) When you slept noisily in our room, we didn't heed professional advice, choosing to instead follow our "blanketing" instincts as the season changed from fall to winter.



You sprouted eyelashes this month that grew and grew. Seemingly overnight. Really. One day, no eyelashes. Then tiny eyelashes. Then lashes like a mascara ad.




You also have been laughing up a storm. This is the month I have felt convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that you know your mama and me and we amuse you to no end (as long as you are recently fed, diapered, and not overtired.) Speaking of well-fed, you are still breastfeeding like a champ, and I am pretty comfortable with the arrangement. You take a bottle with no problem if I am unavailable, but otherwise it is you and I trying to negotiate a "whatever you need" boobie-buffet, that potentially includes a 5-6 hour stretch of sleep at night which I like to call, "time off for good behavior."



Things you like this month: 1) Your giddy up and go gym- we think you are in love with the sheriff/hen. You talk to that thing like you are gossiping with the girls from Sex in the City.




2) Morning play time with Mama. You giggle and laugh with her every day, as I try to pull myself out of the coma that results when I finally get more than 3 consecutive hours of sleep.



3) And of course, time with Mac and Cam. The cutest thing keeps happening now... if you and Cam are laying side by side. Both of you are starting to realize that you have limbs, but are still painfully unaware of exactly how they operate. You frequently get your fingers all accidentally intertwined with one another. Mac is all ready a doting older cousin. When she sees either of your parents or talks to us on the phone, she will immediately cock her head to one side and hold her hands palms upward and in a type of shrug, asking, "J?" At least one time when she realized I was visiting without you, the conversation literally went: "Hi, tt... J?!?" and then when I explained that J was home with Kt, she shook her head sadly saying, "Bye, tt." Which I'm pretty sure was meant to communicate, "You can go now."





Things we like this month:
1) Snuggling you and letting you sleep on our chests, even though you could go down and sleep in your crib;
2) Watching you grow ever more observant. You look at things. You watch us. You notice changes and follow things, and interact with your toys and your family...



3) Dressing you up in the tiny-man clothes we have acquired; sweaters, flannel shirts, jeans, and cords are among my favorites.



4) Bath time...



You've taken your last bath in the kitchen sink (at least until you can sit up independently.) You just simply grew out of that space. One night, you kicked your feet against one sink wall, and only your mama's hand, cushioning the blow at the last second, prevented a concussion. But the bigger space in the bath tub has allowed for ongoing family bath time. I love bathing you! It is simply the most relaxing and rewarding chore I have. You freak out a little every time you first get in. Then you stare at me with an expression that seems to say, "I've got my eye on you, Sparky." And slowly, you settle in and chill out. I've also started taking you in the shower with me sometimes, and that is less relaxing for both of us, but a cool bonding experience nonetheless.



This month I experienced what I will refer to as my first bout of Mama-bear possessiveness. There was this one day when a coworker asked to hold you (I took you to my work's Holiday luncheon.) You started to fall asleep on her shoulder and though my back was a little sore from holding you, though I was relieved that you were giving in to sleep, and even though I like and trust this woman, I inexplicably wanted to slap her across the face and snatch you back hissing, "THAT MY BABY!" It was weird, but I acknowledged it and let it pass, realizing that type of jealous-esque emotion is bound to be more regular than I am comfortable with.



You are such a good little boy and have already brought us more joy than we imagined possible. We are still exhausted and adjusting to the changes in our life, marital relationship, and sleep patterns, but we are completely grateful for you. And can barely remember a time before you were here.



We love you.
Your mommies

Shout out...

Our baby just played the Lord and Savior and was wide-awake, a perfect during the entire nativity. I think he just changed the prospects for same sex marriage in our state! Several people in attendance proclaimed he was the most beautiful baby Jesus in the history of our church (and none of them were Nance, Bri, or Mighty Mike.) More details and pics to follow, but I just wanted to offer a SHOUT OUT to a loyal reader who- being away from her family (in a God forsaken red state) said she just might spend the holiday reading The (GS) Olive. Trica, we love ya, and as long as I've got a blog, you've got a place to spend Christmas!

Live Strong

Remember when Lance Armstrong got about 6 billion people to wear the bright yellow bracelet? I never understood what that was all about. Were folks really that inspired by his story, or did they need a quick one-lined slogan to live by that didn't ask what jesus would do?

It would have been one thing if those bracelets cost $1000 each and then you could proudly wear a 22 cent item declaring your generosity and pet cause du jour. But to me it seemed like free advertising for Armstrong's propaganda and all those people paid 1 or 2 dollars to become human billboards. Yeah, I know... I'm a cynic.

But lately, I've needed a bracelet. I was using hair ties on my wrist to remind myself which tittie was on deck for the next feeding. Like a basketball ref setting up the next possession, I would switch the hair elastic to the other wrist immediately following JB's meal time. But those hair ties quickly deteriorated after 30 or 40 hours of consecutive wear. Then I found the above bracelet which was a LMF fundraiser. I have to say, I never intended to wear this bracelet, but I think it ironic that I have had it on for about 1 month now without ever really taking it off. The slogan indicates we (gays and gay friendly straights) should be wearing these bracelets until we have achieved marriage equality. And that notion has grown on me. Maybe I'll wear it until the laws that hurt our family are changed. Or maybe until I stop breastfeeding. Or maybe until the plastic falls apart. I'm not sure. But I guess I owe a hat tip to Lance for making the plastic slogan-bracelet a reality or else I'm sure I would have a permanently lopsided rack by now.

4 hour road trip

We took JB to meet kt's gram today and see her dad's family.

He was on his best behavior the entire time. They showered him with love. He coo'd and giggled and ate and napped. He slept both ways in the car. This allowed the wife and I some alone time we haven't had in a while. Scrambling to get out of the house, we snipped at each other and spent some of our travel time fighting. Though I doubt that most American couples would categorize the discussion we were having as a fight.

There was some anger and some frustration but no yelling or name-calling. There were some tears, but honestly there were more, "I love you" tears as we started to make sense of the misunderstandings and admit that we "missed each other," as there were tears of frustration.

It is surprising how quickly we have become comfortable in the role of parents when I consider how long it has taken us to honestly be comfortable in the role of spouse. I think it has taken us all of these 7 plus years to know that we are a couple, eternally. That no matter what happens between us and to us, we intend to make this journey side by side. We know you can't account for everything, and maybe that is why it has taken this long. I feel like each of us might have (without telling the other) stashed a suitcase and a back up plan behind a locked door in the attic section of our hearts... "WE ARE TOGETHER FOREVER," we told ourselves and each other, and everyone else who was at our wedding...
but in case things ever fell apart...
you gotta hold on to who you were before all this love became your life, right?

Ask me and I'll tell you, I would rather love and lose than never love, but...
That doesn't explain that one, nearly forgotten, packed bag, does it?

At some point 2 years ago, Kt admitted she had a bag packed in her heart's attic. In fact, I think she dusted it off and moved it to the foyer. But once I called her out on it and convinced her to put it away, I had to be honest with myself and double check that I didn't have my own bag stashed away too. I had to jimmy the lock, but I found it. It was covered in cobwebs, full of clothes that don't fit anymore and treasures that are no longer valuable to me. I didn't even know it was there... I could barely remember why I packed and stashed it, but I knew it had something to do with not "playing the fool" even with my most trusted friend and my purest relationship.

But this year, I guess I needed extra space in my heart. Without realizing it, I unpacked the bag- giving most of the useless content to good will. I have a new truer truth now: that we are in this together, eternally. I say that to no one in particular because I don't need to proclaim it. I have no need to convince myself or anyone else. I know I can't be proven wrong or foolish even if we were to somehow stop being a couple.

So, during our "fight" today, I realize this. That a lot has changed in our relationship mostly as a function of becoming parents. We have less time for each other. We have more worries and more logistical considerations. We have wills and life insurance to put into place. Our interactions are less dreamy and romantic (not that we won't work on maintaining romance...) We are somehow suddenly (after 7 years) in this completely together. Where our fights are primarily about teaching and helping each other, and not hesitating to reveal fears and outline compromises. In this time of intense change, we are so damn solid. We are connected in a way that I didn't even know we weren't connected before. I feel it in my brain and conscience, but also in my muscles and blood and bones.

Ironically, one part of the fight was about how we are going to decide what to cut out of our lives so we can be less "busy." How we are going to simplify in a way that is acceptable to both of us... But it was this drive together, attending to family relationships, travelling at breakneck speeds that gave us the time to just "be" a loving couple.

A happy house

Like Mommy like son

This is exactly how Tracy likes to sleep: one foot out.

Emotionally wrecked for the holidays

Tonight our new alarm clock went off. When we set it in the am, we set it to play the radio, so we had never heard the buzzing feature. It sounded like a house alarm: high pitched, rapid, whining beeping. Katy has been a little on edge all week. Some of the bravery she put forth related to carrying on the work of her office during, after, and despite the awfulness (of what happened to her boss and his family) melted away a little with the sight of Christmas lights this year. She is a sensitive soul with a soft spot for sparkle-y things in general and especially Holiday music and twinkling lights. When anxiety rises up in her, she will bite your head off in a heartbeat unless you know her well enough to cock your eyebrow and lovingly, silently stare her down.

I've come home and found her watching the tree on the verge of tears several times in these last 2 weeks and have needed to remind her how normal and brave it is to let those feelings out and not "stuff them away." Thwarted grief will only resurface another day. We're supposed to have dinner with her boss tomorrow though he has canceled on us the last several times we tried to catch up with him...

So, anyway, the alarm... If you had seen us when this alarm went off, what's the saying? -Jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I didn't realize I was so jumpy too. On the outside, I think I kept my cool, but my heart was pounding and I really almost crapped myself. I didn't recognize the noise, but I followed it in a methodical, deliberate fashion. I was worried about leaving katy alone downstairs, but knowing the baby was upstairs, I headed there first. When I realized the noise was coming from our bedroom, I entered, sort of mentally preparing to encounter an intruder (even though I was aware that we were locked in and that was a totally illogical prospect.) Finally determining it was the clock radio, I hit snooze and took a few minutes to calm down. When I returned to the living room (after eyeballing the baby) kt was staring at me like a startled doe.

We're gonna be all right, but looking over my shoulder in my own home is a new behavior for me. I don't like the feeling. I think "wrecked," is an exaggeration, but we are emotionally "worn thin..." Peace on earth, bitches. Keep singing about it, and maybe it can still come true...

A week of winter weather, lies, and mayhem

Katy, and I spent the better part of the last 5 days (well really, the last 1.5 months) alternating between "preparing" hard-core and "sweating bricks" about my mom and dad's 35th wedding anniversary party which was a surprise that we (just barely) pulled off last night. There was a messy house to clean and decorate, a lot of food to prepare, and the weather forecast kept us on our toes until the last minute.

My sister and I make quite a team and are a force to reckon with if you are in trouble or if we are in "party-planning" mode. When my parents had been married 25 years, Web was just out of college and since we were both gainfully employed and proud of our financial self-sufficiency, we threw them a surprise party for about 120 at a popular restaurant. We paid for hot and cold stationed and passed apps and an open bar. I can't believe that we did that, paid in cash, and also- I can't believe that was 10 years ago. (Sweet Lord, how the time flies by.)

This time around I asked to have it at our house (trying to save a little dough, ray, me.) I admit that if I was in this alone, the party I planned would have had a lot more potato chips and frozen food. My sister pretty much insisted that the food be "gourmet" and "made from scratch." (She a little crazy, but I have to pick my battles.) Once I was "on board" with the food plan, it was quite fun. I made homemade egg rolls and west-coast-weber bite-sized crab cakes. She made risotto cakes and tri-colored polenta squares (well really they were heart-shaped.) We had shrimp cocktail, chicken satay, scallops and bacon, and prosciutto-wrapped mesclun greens. There was bruschetta, a cheese and fruit spread and a fresh veggie basket that could have been photographed for a magazine. (She has mad food design skills.) There were 5 kinds of dessert tartlets, frozen oreo balls, tini eclairs and mini cream puffs (these last two were the only "store bought, defrost and serve" items we passed; and I made that purchase without telling her until after the guests of honor had arrived.)

The night was almost thrown into chaos when my parents got stranded at the mall 10 minutes from my house and wanted to come over 2 hours before they were scheduled to arrive.

That's right... there were so many people shopping at the mall yesterday (likely because the forecast today sent 2 days worth of shoppers to the mall on the same day, one week before Christmas) that the parking lot was completely grid-locked. It was "mall parking lot exits shut down," "people running out of gas b/c their cars were idling for too long," "security guards stationed at the doors telling people to stay in the mall and not go to their cars" grid-lock. When my dad called to tell me (2 hours before they were scheduled to show up) that they were going to start walking toward my house and I should get as close as I could to the mall to pick them up, I told Kt to turn on the TV b/c I was sure they were being lied to by the mall security guards and there was actually a hostage scenario going down. I had to make a quick decision to either let the cat out of the bag, or stall and so I told them I was also "stuck in traffic" and I would call to have them "start walking" when I was 20 minutes away.

Web said it best when she gasped, "If I had a dollar for every lie I told today, I would never have to work again." In the end, they arrived at our house a little harried, but only 20 minutes early and about 1/2 the guests were there to yell "Surprise." They were indeed surprised and the party organizers exhaled for maybe the first time in 36 hours. The guests were fun and complimentary. We heard all night long that we should consider opening a catering company... Which I think Web, Kt, and I would do in a heartbeat if it didn't involve working the worst schedule imaginable for the next 10 to 15 years.

We didn't take nearly enough photos of the event, but we had about 35 in attendance- people I've known my whole life (mostly) but rarely get to see. JB was passed around like a joint at a Dead concert and he didn't fuss even for a minute!

My parents were married when they were 19 years old and it is not only amazing that they are still married, but you should see them together. They are appropriately, but not unhealthily co-dependant. They are kind and respectful of each other, generally enamored with each other, and best friends. As they advance in age, they could maybe work on rolling their eyes at each other less, but for the most part, they have created a marital relationship that is honest and enviable. They found each other in high school and were perhaps well on their way to "forever" before they even thought about having kids, but they have made me proud to be the "bun in the oven" that sealed the deal. (Not that we need to talk about that publicly.)

Happy anniversary, Ma and Pa. We love ya!
:)

Some nonsense for you to read while I'm waiting for pictures to upload

Tonight I made a marinade with curry and though i've washed my hands 1000 times since then (and changed several poopie diapers) the scent lingers.

What's surprising is how nice the odor is. I didn't grow up cooking with or smelling a lot of curry and I think my first few interactions with curry were inappropriate (curry really coming on too strong or being thrown at me in high doses.) I believed that I didn't like the spice at all. But lately, I've been adding it to things and not discarding recipes just because they contain curry and frankly, I'm better for it.

(sniff. sniff. sniff)

laaaaaa. curry.

I finally get it

Yesterday, I ran to the store to "get going" on the holidays. Katy had come home from her teaching gig and offered to watch the kid so I could "pound out" some shopping before the snow really started and before she had to go to job number two.

SIDE BAR: Yesterday, job number two involved going to a Christmas party with her office staff. I'm blogging about this even though I made her promise not to tell our parents that we went out into the storm to get ourselves to said Christmas party... Since we all got home safe and sound, I'm hoping it's okay to admit that we made such a stupid decision (one that put us on the road for 4 hours to travel less than 10 miles. When we could have been sitting home drinking cocoa and tea, we ventured out to eat a crappy, comped meal in under 30 minutes b/c we were late and everyone, rightfully, wanted to hit the road and get home out of the storm.)

So, before the party, I left the baby and my Boo, to shop. Even though the snow had all ready started coming down pretty hard, I was all relaxed and "happy-adrenaline." I was psyched about the snow storm, about our all wheel drive vehicles, about being alive. I was drunk on love, on purchasing power, on the blessings of the last few months. I was also pensive and feeling cosmically lucky; like a woman who has landed safely after jumping out of a plane and spending several moments in panicked free fall unable to open the parachute.

I am lucky. LUcky. LUCKy. Lu-u-u-KEYYYYY.

I was thinking of the juxtaposition of our life now and of the summer. Of the people that are not here to experience Christmas this year, and the childless dad they left behind. The sad insanity of that paradox made me wanted to run outside in the blizzard until there was a snowbank to stick my head into. I turned the radio on and Katy had this song cued up on her CD player.



And.
I.
CRANKED.
it.
up!

I turned it up so loud, the pavement under my tires vibrated and my ears strained to hear all the sounds at once. The reverberating beat was healing, cleansing, and the tiniest bit painful.
It hurt so good.
I don't even know what the hell that song is about, but it was the right song at the right time, and I felt no conflict in the complete self indulgence of the moment.

Later, I thought about all those times I've been at a traffic light and someone else's music was vibrating my tires and hurting my ears, and how cranky that made me at those moments.
I kind of smiled at my cantankerous, too-young-to-be-acting-this-old self getting all, "TURN DOWN YOUR MUZACK, SONNY!!!" And I was glad to gain a new perspective: Maybe what I have considered "noise pollution" all this time has been a necessary outlet and expression of emotion for those drivers/ disturbers of my peace.

Another day, another fucking growth opportunity (AFGO.)

Ice Ice Baby

From a couple of weeks ago...

Cross dressing at Christmas

As Tracy mentioned, we are scheduled to appear in this year's Christmas Pageant at church as the holy family, with JB playing the good Lord himself. Tracy said we could do it but she was going to be Mary. I could be Joseph if I wanted to.

I never thought the first time I went out in drag, it would be to church.

The Second Sunday of Advent

When I was growing up, I was one of those kids (read: "dork") who loved church. I loved the sitting, kneeling, praying; the folding your hands and pondering quietly; the reciting of the mass, etc. I felt safe there and it made sense to me. I bought into it all hook, line, and sinker.

I understood what they meant when they said that "Jesus Christ was 100% human and 100% God." When I prayed to Jesus as a child and as an adolescent, I knew that he had walked the same path I was walking on earth, and I knew he had felt the sometimes insignificant (in an eternal sense) pains and dramas of trying to be a good person. The lessons of the church never felt oppressive to me. If it was an indoctrination, it was very peaceful and agreeable to me. It made perfect sense for example that God could be one, singular entity; but also equal parts of a trinity. It was not confusing to me that communion wasn't merely a symbolic representation of life-giving bread, but transubstantiation that made body and blood of bread and wine. (I was on board with all of that and with the fact that we didn't believe in Magic, and we didn't believe in cannibalism.) Furthermore, I loved the singing and the sitting together with my family for an hour a week, dedicated to some ideas that were bigger and longer-lasting than our human existence.

When I was in college, I attended the Jesuit Church on campus regularly. Going to church at home became a little harder as I started to notice how sexist some of the rituals were. I didn't like how often politics seemed to creep into mass. There was one deacon at my family's church who rarely gave a sermon about feeding the poor, nursing the sick, or volunteerism as a way to wage war on earth in God's name, but he never failed to mention abortion... outlawing abortion... and birth control was also always on his mind. At school, though, the Jesuits kept me in touch with my pal Jesus and his father, God. They focused on the message of living a good life on earth for not only heavenly rewards, but also the benefits uniquely tied to that type of simple living. My boyfriend and I would go to 10pm mass on Sunday nights and leave feeling full of gratitude, rejuvenated and ready to face another week of work and classes.

When I graduated from college things were spinning a little out of control for me. I realized that despite the love I had for my sweet, amazing boyfriend, I really was drawn and attracted to women. The trusting relationship I had developed with God lent to quite a bit of praying about what to do. The interesting thing was, my prayer revealed very different answers than the Roman Catholic Church was teaching. I knew inside myself that love was love. I had a well-developed conscience. I knew right from wrong. And after talking it over with God, it felt more wrong to lie, try to change myself, or "settle" than it did to "choose the homosexual lifestyle."

At that point in my life, I had the humility to accept that my decisions might be wrong in the eyes of God or my church or society. But if I was going to be this introspective and hard on myself, I felt the leaders of church and state must also be in touch with the limits of their "knowledge" of what God might believe. To borrow the words of Anne Lamott, "You can safely assume that you've created God in your own image, when it turns out that God hates all the same people that you do." At a certain point, I acknowledged to myself, there was no (wo)man or bishop, or human ruler that could truthfully know God's opinion and I would not tolerate a religious or secular leader that was unwilling to entertain that perspective.

Then all the stuff unfolded about hundreds of pedophile priests... and then somewhere in there, my best friend dies. At that point I'm ready to walk away from church because it is just too much. Too much compromise on my part. Too much dishonesty and hypocrisy on their part. Too much following ceremony and tradition (not because it feels right inside myself) but because it is easier to fake it, go through the motions, not question the reason, not upset the apple cart. But I feel too "catholic" (and frankly too tired) to look for another church.

Then I meet Katy. And 2 things happen. The first is that I find someone that I really want to create a family with. And the second is, when I take her to my family's church, it is changed to me. It is much more offensive to me. It was as if sitting there by myself, all the little ways the church "did not agree with" or "did not support" it's gay parishioners went completely unnoticed by me. I didn't mind much if they were talking about (or just ignoring) me. But when they were doing it to her - it really pissed me off - and it seemed so loud and intentional and mean spirited.

If this was the "one true church" as I had been taught to believe, then I didn't need church - I decided I wouldn't do that to my (future) family. Still, cutting church out of my life left me a feeling empty - shouldn't you go and commune with good people for an hour or so a week to recharge your spiritual self before facing the next week's toils?

Katy and I tried to reconcile this and found a church to marry in. It was important to me that God be invited to that party. But this also marked the beginning of a different kind of struggle between 2 parts of me. Should I really leave the church - my church... my family's church because of their stance on "gay issues"? vs. How do I ask my wife to give these people the time of day? What is good for a little girl (an assumed straight girl) is not good for her adult self, her wife, or her planned but unborn children.

It is still an unresolved struggle. There is a part of me that wants to meet my family at church on Sunday... wants to go to coffee with them after mass, wants to be the same religion they are, wants to teach my son about the sacraments and communion. There's a part of me that just can't quite figure out how to handle communion: Is it their communion to give to me - and therefore I should follow their rules? Or is it my communion - a sacrament and gift that God gave me? Out of respect for my loved ones and for God, should partake when "the Eucharist" is blessed and offered to me? When I go back to my family's church for weddings and funerals? Or should I refuse? If I abstain, is it because I am rejecting the RCChurch or because they are rejecting me??? Do you see what a quandary I'm in?

For the last few years, Katy and I have been attending a Unitarian Universalist Church. A church we loved instantly. We walked into this church thinking it was a congregational church we might "try out," and we've returned nearly every Sunday for three years.

This UU has much more "God language" than many UU's (which is something that is important to me). And has a wonderful female minister that brings tears to our eyes nearly every week with her humility and poignant directives to BE BETTER humans and HELP one another and FORGIVE your enemies and yourselves, and to follow a great and amazingly difficult commandment to LOVE.

Love.

Sounds simple, right? It's only simple if it's half-assed. (The minister's sentiment, my curse word added for emphasis.) Love, if it's done right is a life long endeavor... Love yourself so you can live a healthy, productive existence and so you can take care of those around you. Love others- if you dare- because shouldn't we be living in less isolation with more frequent communion?!?

This is the first church Katy has ever known - the first church she has loved. This church has already seen us through some hard times. The first time we were pregnant and then a few days later we weren't. The time we thought our relationship might be falling apart. The several weeks after our friends were attacked and killed in their home. This summer, after that brutal event (when I was 8,9, then 10 months pregnant) our minister continued leading us in the usual benediction at the end of church:

Go out into the world in peace.
Have courage.
Hold onto what is good.
Return to no person evil for evil.
Strengthen the fainthearted.
Support the weak.
Help the suffering.
Honor all beings.

It took 6 weeks before my voice stopped cracking during "hold on to what is good" and before I could say "return to no person evil for evil" without tears falling out of my eyes. And that's when I turned to Katy and said that I was finally ready to "sign the membership book." (She wanted to sign 3 years ago after about 2 Sunday services.)

The thing is, that benediction is has been guiding me though the simple questions in life... Should I really be speeding up to the assh8le who cut me off just to offer him a one fingered wave? But when you brush up against some example of real evil- how you react to it (even if only in the quiet of your heart) matters. And when you choose a spiritual leader, you'd better choose one with values you can lean on- that make sense to you. This benediction is only one part of the reason we love this church. These words cut to the meat of how I want to live my life. And if this is what it means to be a Unitarian Universalist, than I guess that is what I am. It is very much in line with what I need and what I believe.

So we joined. And when JB was born they announced it in the service and in the bulletin. And when they plan the Christmas nativity at our church, they ask the most recently born child (male or female) to play the part of baby Jesus. And if that baby happens to have been born to a couple of lesbians... everyone there seems to get kind of an excited glimmer in their eyes about it!

Restful Weekend

Our weekend was "unscheduled" and was supposed to be full of completing chores.

Yesterday, I spent several hours hanging lights and breaking down cardboard boxes. (The number of boxes that piled up in our garage during the last part of my pregnancy and immediate postpartum period was astounding.)

The afternoon brought a visit from some peeps that we met through Katy's teaching gig. The sweetness of getting to know new friends is amplified when if feels like you've known them for years. We fell into a rhythm of conversation and laughter that felt the very essence of Christmas. They cooed over our child, treated us to dinner, and still got us home at a reasonable hour. (All three of these things, are sad indicators of my advancing age- 1. The fact that i have a kid is still a little surprising 2. my feeble mental status has slowed my "tab-splitting math skills" and my credit card flashing speed 3. Our joy at being in bed by 10:30 last night borders on embarrassing.) The mommies even got some "adult, alone time" as it was JB's first weekend sleeping in his crib in his room...

Today, our old roommate stopped by on her way to the airport. Seeing her was wonderful. We made a yummy brunch, played a little with her daughter, introduced her to JB, and got the chance to catch up as old friends and new mommies.

The rest of the day was supposed to be dedicated to holiday prep, house cleaning, and cooking. Though I had it in my mind to make a trip to visit my sister and her family (I miss my Mac time...) but, it was just too easy to stay home, lay back, write a little, and watch some football with the kid crashed out on one or both of our chests. I should feel like I "wasted" the day, and didn't "capitalize" on the weekend... but I can't.
It was perfect.

I have a great life. (Even if our home is slightly not-clean, disorganized, and half-decorated.)

Greatest internet game ever! (for today)

Test your vocabulary AND
donate grains of rice!!!
This is a confirmed and valid charity opportunity.

hat tip to Cheese and Wine

The week in review

National News:
Scientists announced the discovery of a mummified dinosaur. President Bush put forth a plan to save or delay foreclosures and the US population revealed very split opinions of a govt "buy out" of the sub-prime mortgage market. The CIA destroyed video of "torture tapes" and Senator Kennedy, D (MA) compared the president's denial to the missing audio on the Watergate tape.

Entertainment news:
The president's daughter was promoting her book on the Ellen show and "called home" when Ellen asked her to.
Jodi Foster came out of the closet. I just said to Katy about a month ago... I'm about all done with Jodi, why is she so deep in the closet. You'd think by now, she would step out and act up a little...

The kid:
JB moved into his nursery last night... we are a little scarred, but I think he likes his new digs. He seemed to have some congestion all week, that I kept wanted to blame on his vaccinations last Friday. We have his tiny room outfitted with a space heater and a humidifier so that we can go back to keeping the house a little cooler during the night and still keep him blanket free. (lat year, the nighttime set temp in our house was 59 degrees and the 2 (future) mommies slept with 2 down comforters stacked on top of each other... when people ask what we do for the environment, that's what we should remember to tell them.

New on the home front: Stay at home mom's shirt count-
Monday: 2 shirts spit up on
Tuesday: 3 shirts spit up on
Wednesday: 2 shirts and 2 receiving blanket soiled
Thursday: 2 shirts
Friday: Wore the same shirt all day without any stains (so far)

The weather:
It's been cold here in the NE. It is finally winter... We had 2 small snow showers this week and as usual, people acted like they had never driven in the snow. It is snowing now.
There was a freak "blizzard watch" in Hawaii and an earthquake in North Carolina

Holiday preparations:
Shopping and gift buying- apx 1/3 done
Christmas cards- in hand, envelops all with stamps and return address labels, mailing label list nearly completed.
House decoration- we've been mid-decoration for about a week. Need to finish hanging lights outside, decorate the tree, etc. today
Food prep- kt and I have bought the ingredients to try some new holiday dessert recipes and I have started preparing my annual "Christmas homemade egg rolls" labor of love.

Touchdown pose

It's 7:50 am. I have my early morning headache. Kt is dressed, looking pretty hot in her regular "Uniform" for work*. The baby has been fussing (and when i say 'fussing' I mean the moderate twitching-ish flailing and 'gooing' that we've come to associate with our perfect child when he is not
1) totally satiated
2) adequately rested
3) recently diapered
4) without any digestive discomfort what so ever.)

We've been reading the Baby Whisperer, and "paying attention to our baby" as she advises. I think you have to take all baby advice with an open mind AND a grain of salt, but I like her general perspective (My summary: Treat your baby like a person, be respectful, listen, and learn about him; but like you would for any other person in your life, set limits and be in charge of creating a relationship that you can live with down the road...) Her point of view has been helpful and reassuring. She reminds her fans that babies will cry, it's their only way to communicate... give them a minute to cry and listen to figure out what they want. In other words, don't just shove a tittie in their mouth. The more you listen, the more differentiated their cries will sound in your ears and you will learn to identify the meaning of various cries.

Back to us at yellow, suburban house: Often, he acts hungry when he has to poop and we know this. If I offer him food, he will latch on for a minute and then come off, head bobbing and screeching as if to say, "I came into this restaurant to use the bathroom and your Maitre d keeps shoving food into my mouth!!!" I admit, i do this often. I do it because... well, I'm Italian and we usually start by feeding our people even when they need all sorts of other remedies and comfort measures. That's our game. That's what we do... That's a little thing we like to call, "LOVE."

I've been guided by my wife to take the major evolutionary step of hearing the above "Maitre d analogy" and not conducting my own internal translation that ends up something like, "YOUR TITTIE IS SOUR... THIS MILK IS SCORTCHING MY THROAT... YOU CALL THIS LOVE?!?!?! I HATE YOU..."

But there's another reason I try to feed him first... Sometimes the sucking works. Getting food into top the part of his GI tract creates an opposite "emptying" action, and he poops.

So, back to this morning. It's time for him to eat. It's perfectly reasonable for him to be hungry, he hasn't eaten since 4am. But after a few feeding attempts, we realize that his cries are not about "emptiness," but "fullness". We know this, but we can't do anything about it...

I actually start Googling, "How to make an infant poop." All these hits come up about constipation which is definitely NOT what we are dealing with here.

In the mean time, since he is crying anyway, kt focuses her attention on trying to wrestle a hardy, crusty snot that is peering out the edge of the boy's nose. It's been beyond our grasp for days, bothering us about a million times more than it is bothering him.

And we wait... wishing we could help him feel better... having taught ourselves in the past few weeks that this type of fussing is generally associated with a discomfort we can't fix. Even at this young age, there are some things he's got to work out for himself. So we wait with him, at least hoping to show him, he is not alone.

A few minutes later, FIRE IN THE HOLE! And kt and I, from different sides of the living room, shoot all four of our arms into the air as if our team has just scored the game-sealing point(s).

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*minus the gold shoes. And though she does own one salmon colored top, her "uniform" usually contains a shirt that is less pink, and/or darker in color.

By the way, kt bought a new jacket (at my urging) and though it is black and not red, yesterday she left the house looking EXACTLY like her "wee mee" in the side bar of this blog.

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Little Potatoes

Last night I got to visit with my sister and her kids for a little while and Mac was in a particularly snuggly mood, so I grabbed her up and started singing our new favorite song...

You're my little potato.

We've been singing it to JB since the grannies introduced us to it over Thanksgiving.

Afterward, for the rest of the night, Mac would say,
"TT... TT... Po-ta-to..." Until we sang it again.

You are so SWEET, Potato!

Boy with a baby doll

Katy and i loved this NPR commentary on Friday's
All Things Considered.

Update: Eyelashes

There's an update to the vital statistics...

The baby grew eye lashes!!!
Seriously. One week: no lashes.
Midweek: some short lashes.
Weekend: long, luscious boy-lashes!

I think this is the beginning of puberty!

What's Babies.r.us HRC rating?

For the 2nd time in 2 months, a cashier at Babies.R.Us came out to katy in the check out line.

When I was still in the hospital awaiting discharge, kt left us for a few hours to prepare the house and buy a breast pump. There was a "who's this for" conversation (What? a skinny, white chick can't just purchase a breast pump without arousing suspicion?!?) and when kt said, "My wife is in the hospital, we just had a baby," the cashier announced, "I'M GAY TOO." I wasn't there, so I'm not sure the announcement was all in CAPS, but it struck kt as interesting. "Yeah, you are," we mumble to each other when someone makes an intuitively obvious announcement.

Today's event was a tiny bit more poignant.

Having observed the interplay between the two of us in line (I was holding JB and we were making final decisions on our purchases) I stepped out of line, saying, "I'm just going to go bundle him up over here." (It was 20 degrees today and regulating the kid's temperature has become one of my most prominent internal dialogs.) There were 2 customers ahead of us at that time, but when it was kt's turn she heard:

Cashier: Is that your kid?
k: yes
c: You and that girl? That's your kid?
k: yes
c: You're together and you had a kid together?
k: yes
c: Wow. I didn't even know that could happen. I have a girlfriend, and she's gonna think I'm crazy, but i didn't even know that could happen... you never really see it.
k: (staring. waiting. happy to know that this seems to be a positive turn of events for the cashier.)
c: Wow. you made my day.

I didn't see or hear any of the conversation. I was bent over JB, zipping him into his pooh cotton "snow suit." When kt relayed the tale to me, I was humbled. How could this poor chick be so isolated? In our "northeast," "liberal" state?!? Who is helping her adjust and feel safe as she figures everything out?

I guess I forget sometimes, how hard it was... how hard it is out there. It's the reason we are out- way out- even though most of our parties have a high het to homo ratio... It's the reason we put gay pride stickers on our family cars. It's the reason we call each other wife and not "friend" or "partner." It's the reason we try to be quiet and steady in our terminology and do not fudge the answers to questions like, "who are you buying that breast pump for?" It's the reason we encourage our family and friends to be forthright with this language and discussion even when they are talking to people they will never meet again. Some say, "There's no reason to tell 'your business' to a stranger." But straight folks "tell their business" to strangers all the time. And more importantly, people need to see and hear and understand that we are here, we exist. I'm not referring to the people that wish we didn't exist... I'm concerned with the men and women who think they are all alone. The mom who just found out her daughter is gay and is worried that means her daughter can never have children or a family. The young woman or man who has not yet seen "someone like them" out and proud in a checkout line. It's difficult sometimes for me to remember the fear and invisibility that still exists for many in our community- who may not know how to "tap into" the community.

Anyway, I'm proud that my wife celebrates National Coming Out Day, every day at BBrUs and beyond. She is changing the world, one cashier at a time...

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btw- BBrUs HRC rating? Not that impressive.

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Vital Stats

J-Br went to the pediatrician on Friday...

He's huge.

13 lbs 10 oz. In the 90th percentile. Up 4 lbs from his birth weight.
25.5 inches, which is off the growth chart.
I wonder if it actually hurts to grow 4 inches in 9 weeks.
(In case you are wondering, tsadb reported a ht of 6'3" and a wt of 160lbs at 23 years of age.)

Our kid is a trouper. He got 5 immunizations, 4 injections and cried very little. He has been really amazing this last week- sleeping well during the day and at night, cooing, laughing every chance he gets. He's generally well mannered and sweet. His mommies are very much in love with his spirit and temperament.