The week in review

In the last 7 days, Obama freed the gays*, North Carolina outlawed them, we've celebrated/endured nurses' week, mother's day, and gone through a 12 pack of ginger-ale**.  In the last seven days, the boys have worn their raincoats, their winter coats, and their bathing suits- so swings the weather in these parts at this time of the year...

The Ta-bar pool opened today at a crisp, cool 76 degrees. (We all went in but Katy). And I predict both these boys will be swimming without "swimmies" by the end of the summer (Mac and Cam are already there).  Softball starts tomorrow.  I have a lot to write about, but I'm so very sleepy.

The new job is absurd.  Good, but a little like being a lost kid at a big fair... Except, I'm not a kid, and I have a map, but they change the fair grounds every night... and there are a lot of emails... And I keep staying awake every night wondering if I should suggest to my bosses that maybe they should keep the fair grounds looking like the map they hand out.  Also, I find myself wanting to shout a lot, "THE EMPEROR HAS NO CLOTHES ON!" 

*OBAMA did not actually free the gays, but he did publicly state is personal support for marriage equality which as Joe Biden would say, "...is a big fucking deal."

**Jake was vomiting last weekend and I spent Friday night wondering how my body could eject the contents of my stomach with such force that jet engine blasters seem comparatively ineffectual and weak.  

Happy New Year!!!

*
You would not F#@king believe what my kids are doing right now!?!

They are in the kitchen, 1 room away- playing together. Playing a game of their own mutual, instinctive invention; complete with spontaneous changes of position and offensive/defensive posturing. This game seems to be oddly competitive AND collaborative. There is no scoring, but nameless points seem to be earned by 1) Amount of noise made, 2) Ability to make your brother laugh, 3) Skillful kicking moves to propel a kid-sized yoga ball across the room, 4) Incorporation of kitchen furniture in the field of play.

There are power blocks and time-outs for body poses and setting up the next play. There's a scream during every maneuver and belly-giggles at every play's completion. There's a lot of wordless NOISE punctuated by bellows of "COME! ON! JAY! KEY!" (from Milo) and "YOU LIKE THAT, MI-MI?!?" (from Jake) and "HUT 1, HUT 2, HUT 3, HIKE!" (from both). The game they are playing is nothing like football, but somehow that stance and protocol has an obvious place in their contest.

Katy and I are (watching the Patriots play the game that will hopefully get them back into the Superbowl and) trying to stay out of the boys' game. But at the 37th (or so) minute mark, we are pretty sure there will be a head smacking against a wall and ensuing tears to pause or end the game at any minute. I can't believe my wife is okay with this volume, but the times they are a'changing and it is fairly awe-inspiring to see these little boys collaborating and entertaining each other with such gusto.

It's been a long time since I've blogged. There have been a lot of changes in my life- that can simply be summarized by saying I started a new job. I have been working my ass off, Katy has been working her ass off to support me in this new endeavor. Things have been in motion since the summer when I first interviewed for the position. Getting the job and negotiating the offer, making the decision to leave my old job and then transitioning out of a place that I have been for nearly 8 years- leaving co-workers that had become some of my best friends; starting a new job 7 weeks ago right before the holidays, this has been A LOT. It was the right decision for me, but this weekend, my body cried, "Uncle". I'm exhausted with a fairly significant cold. I spent most of the last two days working up to intermittent bursts of energy that were used to shovel freshly fallen snow, go sledding with the family, and run a few errands. The rest of the time, I have been reading and laying around with a heavy, drippy head and stuffed sinus cavities that left me feeling woozy and weak. I feel a little better now, but not quite ready to start the work week again.

Blogging more regularly was not a New Year's resolution this year, there were too many other New Year's resolutions that had to take precedence, but I really miss it and and intend to pay a bit more attention to it, now that I have gotten my toes submerged at the new job.

If you are still reading and checking in at the GSO, thank you! I've really missed spending some time with you here in this space. I can't wait to catch you up on the boys- they are so freaking cute and amazing... I just don't think I could love them any more than I do!


*Both photos are copyrighted and courtesy of our friend and photographer, Joey Jones. He's a great guy and does great work, check it out

It' sounds like a Tuberculosis ward in here, but the state of the family is strong...

Our kids are at their Sat AM events: Jake with Katy to dance, Milo with Papa to gymnastics. I have an hour to clean the house, but first give you a 10 second snap shot:

1) After suffering 6 weeks with a wet, productive, hacking cough Milo has been diagnosed with an ear infection. Three days on antibiotics and the cough is remarkably improved.

2) Jake has started asking every morning, "Can I have a little coffee?" which is his way of asking for a cough drop.

3) Yesterday I went to a "minute clinic" b/c I don't have a PCP (terrible) and I couldn't take my worsening cough and cold anymore. I got myself on some antibiotics and some allergy medication as well. I'm still an allergy denial-ist even in the face of mounting evidence that I have in fact developed seasonal allergies well into the 4th decade of my life

4) Katy caught the kids playing "We're late...we' re late... We're late..." with each other in the living room the other day. (Eye roll). I guess there are worse things we could be imitated for...

5) I gave my notice at work and will be changing jobs this month... Lots of anxiety to get us to this point and the next 2 week are going to be totally full THROTTLE wrapping up 7 plus years of unfinished TO DO lists, but when the dust settles, I'll write a little more about it...

Local Honey

We started this blog 6 years ago. Every year (for 6 years) I've been invited, encouraged, interested, eager- to take part in this. But whatever it is about June 1st? I could never make it work.

In some ways this is redundant. What is the GSO but a blog about our family. Every time Katy or I blog, it is for at least one LGBT family.

As I write, I mentally review the week we've had and the weeks coming up, and I don't freaking know how parents do this. And then I remember, we are doing it... We ARE parents.
This is not a dream but a "dream come true"... (shrug)

With a 1.5 year old boy and a 3.5 year old boy, every day is an adventure.
Every meal is a crap shoot.
Every bedtime is a cliff hanger. (Will we sleep through the night or won't we?!?)
Next week, Katy is away at a conference and I will keep the home fires burning, but looking at the week we've had, I miss her already.

First, a few tid bits:

1) I'd just like to say, that the two moms are suffering a little right now. After more than a week of this "cold" I'm willing to concede that I may have developed seasonal allergies late in the 4th decade of my life. But seriously, if this is what a little pollen can do to a woman, evolution may be working against us. I promise, I'm going on local honey as soon as I can locate some...

2) Pink eye is running rampant through the day care. ML got two scoops of clear goopey in his left eye, and we had to get drops called in prophylactically to keep him from being erroneously diagnosed and tossed out of work camp day care for two days. In a scheduling Cirque Du Soleil that amounted to nothing less than a Parenting Coup, we had him on 24 hours of drops before any ocular pink-en-ing could occur.

3) JB's first dance recital is Saturday. His dress rehearsal is tomorrow night. He has the prince costume, pink tights, make up (including foundation and purple lipstick- that he requested Katy buy for him), black ballet shoes, a new haircut, and he is poised to steal the show. Most importantly, he is very excited and proud. And it is the most normal thing in the world to him. I pray that we get to keep him like this for several more years- where he gets to enjoy the things he enjoys in blissful ignorance that some of them (baseball, football, watching garbage trucks) are "boy things", and some of them (cooking, dancing, wearing lipstick) are "girl things".

Back to the post...
What the heck does it mean to blog for LGBT families?

In some ways, our blog is all about the fragile capacity of memory. I need to chronicle these times because if I can't remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday, how will I remember how adorable my kids were in the first real winter of their lives? Or how will I accurately portray to them how insane they sometimes made me, as I grow older and romanticize our early years together?!?

But that's only part of it, really. I blog for more people than me and us.

I blog for our family and friends that totally support us. I blog for our acquaintances that might not understand us. I blog for Oprah- that she might somehow stumble upon this space and find someone to pay me to write for a living...

When i first came out, one of the strangest things to me was the censorship that suddenly surrounded various aspects of my life. Prior to realizing I was gay, I was an open book. There was nothing to hide, nothing to dance around, no question that couldn't be posed. "What's new? Who are you dating?" And endless follow up questions about any man that might come close to fitting that description. But after "word got around" about me, conversations temporarily got quieter, more one sided... There were obvious school and work questions, questions about where I was living, but then things slowed down. Only a few would venture to the "who are you living with?" And even fewer would jump right out and ask about "dating" or a "girlfriend". My coping strategy was to just put it out there. I felt, the sooner I came out to people, the sooner I could convey this was not something that I needed to hide to feel secure. If it was public knowledge that I was OUT, then innocent discomfort based on a fear of being too personal or inadvertently OUTING me would prove to be unnecessary. I spoke quietly, but as clearly as I could about all aspects of my life.

This was not necessarily natural to me. But like when you teach yourself to be comfortable speaking in public, I just decided it was the way I would try to take care of not only myself, but others that I loved and worked with and played with.

When I met Katy, she reinforced this model of behavior. People don't know that she quivers a little on the inside and silently worries so much about what other people think, because when you talk to her, it seems like she's all carefree. She seems to say what's on her mind without pause. She tries not to couch the truth unless there's a really good reason. Once I fell in love with Katy, our relationship demanded an entirely higher standard for living out and proud. I mean, she's not someone I'd ever consider hiding, even for a moment. (As Lissa would say, "What's the point of having a trophy wife, if you can't..." Lissa uses that preamble in all sorts of scenarios.)

So we are a gay family, but we are certainly not separate or isolated from other families. And we are open and clear on what puts us into this very distinct category of families, but often, we are so busy living our lives, that we feel a little removed from vitriol aimed particularly at us.
Consider this:
- 31 states in the country have CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENTS that forbid marriage between two men or two women (the acknowledgement that we are a family)
- 39 states in the country have STATE LAWS that forbid acknowledgement that we are a family
- There is a federal law (DOMA) that disallows the federal acknowledgment of our state-sanctioned marriage. That includes not counting us as a family in the census; not counting us as a family in the tax code; not counting us as a family in terms of disability, social security, medicare, military benefits; that includes not counting us as a family in terms of immigration, international travel and protections, and federal employment.
- Federal law is still unclear on the status of gay men and women in the military- Don't Ask, Don't Tell (DADT) is supposedly on it's way out, but until that transition is completed, gay men and women are prohibited from serving in the military; which as far as I'm concerned means an out gay man or gay woman (even if s/he could win the general election and earn the votes of the electoral college) would not be eligible to serve as Commander in Chief or President of the United States.
- In at least 41 countries, it is AGAINST THE LAW to be gay or in a gay relationship
- Many of the worlds religions claim without any hesitation that God either hates gay people, wants them to live in denial of their natural inclinations, or will definitively punish same sex attraction with eternal damnation.

In a world with these types of headlines, with so many powerful, famous, and vocal people that are lining up to condemn us for being gay, when I consider our family, and our lives...
The sad truth is I don't feel all that gay.

We don't live in a gay house, in a gay town, have gay jobs, go to a gay church-
(Well, actually, our church is a little gay...)
But what I mean is, we are just living. We are conventional and mainstream and we are comfortable that way.
We dabble in activism and keeping this blog is one tendril of that activity.
We are surrounded by good people of all stripes, and we feel boring and not "different" at all...

This year we went to PRIDE in North Hampton, MA. North Hampton, if you don't know, is the lesbian "San Fransisco" of the east coast. It is the "New England, town-green, raise your chickens under the worn out kayak in your yard, 7 sister all-women's college surrounded, hemp-wearing, local honey and maple syrup-making, artist collective, non-profit supporting, justice seeking, female indie-rock band launching, queer women raising children, challenging each other to cook-offs, reading contests, inter-mural soccer, and 1/2 marathons;" it is the year-round answer to p-town. (deep breath)

When you go visit friends in NoHo, there are always 2-3 husbands in a group of 10-15 women, but they're the type of guys that are more liberal, intellectual, feminist, or bohemian than any of your female relatives back home, so (in the most innocent, respectful, and non-emasculating way) when you are with them, you forget there are men in the room.

So we are in the car, heading up there (for PRIDE) I started to get a little insecure.
I started thinking, "We are going to J and J's house and they are so, well... cool and they've got the right shoes and kayaks and schedule that's healthy for their kid... And their son isn't in day care for 40 hours a week, and they probably don't even let him have chicken nuggets or PLASTIC toys (let alone Ball Park Franks) and we are so STRAIGHT compared to them..."

And then I thought:
"STOP!!!!!!!!!"
"THEY ARE STRAIGHT! Tracy, they can not be gayer than you... YOU are married to a woman!!! That IS the very DEFINITION of GAY!!!"

But, isn't it true that nowadays, GAY FAMILIES include so much more than two people of the same gender who are in love and/or sleeping with each other.

J and J who are practically gayer than us- even though one of them is a MAN and one of them is a WOMAN (Because they do live in a "cool gay house" in a "cool gay town" with our very best gay friends) J and J are part of this gay family.
Our parents and sisters and brothers are all part of this gay family.
Our cousins, aunts, and uncles by birth and our cousins, aunts, and uncles by choice are all a part of this gay family.
Our softball team and coworkers are all a part of this gay family.
Our college friends, Our Facebook friends, and readers of this blog, and the people that take care of our children every day at their school are all a part of this gay family.
My mom's hair dresser, and my father-in-law's tennis buddies and my grandmother's sister, brother, and church friends that are always asking about our boys... are all part of this gay family.
Anyone that has ever stopped a homophobic joke or tirade because they've thought of us and said, "That's just not true and just not nice."
Anyone that has ever decided not to vote for an anti-gay politician because of how that effects our family or the future that our children will grow up in.
Anyone that has ever turned to their small child and said, "There's nothing wrong with dancing if you are a boy or driving a truck if you are a girl, and I love you no matter what you grow up to be" is part of this gay family.

So when I blog on June 1st (into the early morning hours of June 2nd) for LGBT families, I'm blogging for all of us. I'm blogging for the visibility and viabilty of progressive lifestyles and families (gay and straight) that fight a political machine and a standard of living that tries to make fact out of the myth that gay people are somehow a threat to our society. And the way that we fight (because we are so tired out by working our jobs and raising our kids, and keeping our houses in order) is by mostly just living. Living with and near each other and taking care of each other and raising our kids together.

I am so proud and feel so lucky to be living the life I am living with all of you as part of my family. It numbs the mind. It strengthens the heart. And emboldens the spirit.

It somehow makes the breathing easier. (Like an elixir for seasonal allergies)

** Let's Talk.About.Thanksgiving... Shall we?!?

Today, the world lost an amazing woman, and extraordinary nurse. I lost a friend, a mentor, and an occasional surrogate mom.

I was 23 years old when I met Deirdre. I was a new nurse, starting a new job in the MICU and everything I needed to know about her, I learned in that first shift: She was all business, no nonsense when it came to the job. At first blush, she scared the shit out of me. But you only needed to hear her laugh to know there was nothing to actually fear - she was full of life, heart, humor, mischief, giggles, and truth. Dee would tell you what was what without batting an eye. She could say to you "Why are you wearing that? You look ridiculous!" but make it sound like, "I've been thinking, and I have a great idea for a make over!" She was what my gram would have called a "rascal". To qualify for the label the way my gram intended it, you'd have to be someone smart, someone that intuitively knows exactly what is going on, someone that pays attention and "doesn't miss a trick", someone that speaks truth in a good-natured way, that can knock an arrogant fool down a few pegs without seeming mean or threatened, someone soulful but who truly enjoys a good joke.

Deirdre was all of this. And a real class act.

She taught me so much about what it means to be a nurse. Being a nurse means doing things the right way. Working fast but not taking shortcuts. Taking care of what you can, fixing and organizing what you can; and creating comfort and respectful solutions when things can't be fixed. Washing and rubbing a back, lotioning someone's feet, helping a person eat or go to the bathroom, listening as people talk about their lives- these are not small, insignificant things... They are usually the most important things.

I stopped working in the ICU almost 10 years ago... And Deirdre left before then. We hadn't spoken in a long time, until last year when I learned that she had been diagnosed with Cancer - stage 4.
We emailed a few times, and in November, we had a big party in her honor.



She looked fantastic! The last time she wrote me, she told me that her prognosis had improved... Today, I was caught completely off guard by the news. I hadn't realized that she had recently gotten much worse, that she was hospitalized last week and transferred to hospice.
She died last night, surrounded by her family. She was only 65 years old.

There are too many stories to tell about Dee and all that she taught younger nurses and all that she did for (hundreds and hundreds of) patients, and all of the laughter she encouraged, but these are two of my most vivid and treasured memories.

Grief Stricken Nubbie:
I worked in MICU right out of college. I had recently broken up with my high school sweet heart, my first love of 6 plus years, by BFF all through school. I spent that first year as a nurse, trying to learn how to be a competent professional, trying to recover from the break up, trying to figure out who I was, trying to make sense of it all.

I was happy though, making money, finding satisfaction in my work, developing really amazing friendships. All the people I met that first year, never knew me as John's girlfriend. Never knew me as any one's girlfriend. I didn't have a significant other, wasn't really looking, and maybe some guessed it, but I don't remember telling anyone that I was searching for a way out of the closet. It was complicated inside of me, trying to figure out a way to break the news to lots of people that I wasn't straight.

It must have been really confusing to my colleagues how devastated I was when John died in October of 1997. When people asked what was going on, I first had to explain about John and then had to try to convey the terrible grief I felt. Words were inadequate and so I used few of them. After trying on a couple detailed explanations, I shortened the tale to "He was my best friend" and now he was dead.

Those first few weeks, going to work was awful. You don't realize you work in a place that is all about death until grief settles in you like a magnetic field and the tiny, metal shavings of death (that lay like fine dust in a modern ICU) fly from their resting spots to coat your skin. I was a wreck. And it took several weeks before I realized that people there were watching me. People like Deirdre, looking out for me, moving obstacles before I bumped into them, intervening on my behalf- "You go help with this admission, and I'll do that" I'd be told when it was time for me to prepare and "bag" the corpse of one of my patients that passed away.

One night, I caught the Jay Leno show, and he had a clip from this new comedy called "South Park". Watching it, I laughed and laughed and laughed. It was one of the funniest things I had ever seen. I taped it and watched it over and over and realized, it was the first time I had laughed- really laughed- in almost a month. I brought the tape to work and showed several people (trying to figure out if everyone thought this was funny or if I was cracking up.) Dee was in that first crowd of people and she laughed even harder than I did. Hearing her laugh made me laugh even harder. The laughing felt good. She and I watched that clip a dozen more times that night. We set the TV and VCR in an empty patient room and every so often, we would go in there and watch it a few more times... getting more silly each time. After that night, I would have done anything for that woman- that experience really helped me start to heal.

What would your mother say:
The second story: I had started dating a woman that we worked with. She was a travel nurse and started on our unit a few months before, expecting to stay 3-6 months longer. She was colorful and funny and a good nurse. She was popular, but not quite comfortable in her own skin and had a tendency to be erratic- not at work, but when she wasn't working. Again, I was not really "out", but I wasn't NOT out. Anyone that asked a question, I told the truth to, but this was like 12 years ago, Will and Grace wasn't yet on TV, not a lot of people brought it up.

Still, even though people weren't asking me about it the way they would have if Dana had been a man, we had told several of our friends and there is no doubt it was probably the worst kept secret on the floor (maybe in the hospital). One night, Deirdre pulls me aside...

D: What's going on with this Dana girl?
Me: what do you mean, what's going on? What do you want to know?
D: She's no good for you.
Me: (laughing, slightly embarrassed) what?!?
D: I'm not trying to get into your business, but you are going places and she is not going anywhere you want to be- this isn't about her being a girl... you want to be with a girl, that's fine, this isn't the girl for you...

Thing is, she was right. Not that the girl wasn't good for me, necessarily, but she was right to bring it up. She was right there for me... not letting her possible discomfort or fear of not being politically correct distract her from attempting to care for me. She was there to treat me and this relationship with the respect that comes from someone who tells you to "Pay attention!!!"... who reminds you not to shit where you eat... I wasn't even considering if Dana was "the girl for me" or not, but hearing that said out loud made an impression on me. I wasn't estranged from my family or anything, but there were no "parent-type" members that knew about this relationship (or if they knew, they didn't bring it up to me; and I didn't bring it up to them). Unless you count my MICU family (which I do...).

When you needed a mom or mother figure (whether you knew it or not) Deirdre was there. When you needed a mentor or a friend, same story.

The thing I'm having trouble describing in these memories of her is the love and vitality that Deirdre brought to every interaction. The perfect balance of salt and sweet. She would bust your balls, but it wouldn't be to break you down, it would be to build you up. She was a hard ass, with a heart of gold. She could be serious, but her laugh was seriously infectious.

When I got the news today, I felt sick and I felt sadness wash over me. For a few minutes, I thought I might start shaking with sobs at the loss of someone I haven't spent more than an hour talking to in the last 10 years. It's just this: As is true of most of the people who are our teachers, she is so much a part of special and important things inside of me, that she is kind of with me all the time. And intellectually, that's reassuring because that means (if she is living inside of me) I can never really lose her to death; those parts of her that she planted in me will still always be with me...

But...

That doesn't dampen the ache I feel knowing I will never hear her laugh or see her smile or her wise gaze again.
Sleep well, sweet-tough-nurse, funny-soulful friend.
You are loved more than you know and I miss you already.

**

What doesn't kill us makes us...

Sicker
Stronger...

Yesterday, I spent the better part of 7 hours up on our roof, shoveling and clearing ice.
It was a nice warm day (42 degrees when the sun was out) and the sun kept going in and out.





It was a little brutal, if I am honest. The snow was literally up to my thighs. Like the rings of a tree, there were all the layers of the storms we have had. I am well aware that we have had over 55 inches of snow this January, but somehow, standing up there, I could not get over how much shoveling had to be done. I wanted to quit so many times, but I knew if I got down and took a break, I did not have it in me to climb the ladder again. So I stayed and did the job as best I could. I used a hatchet at the edges, near the gutters where there was 4-6" of solid ice on roof near the gutter in the back yard (the South side of the house) and 10-12" of ice in the front yard (on the North side).

While I was up there, I seemed to be experiencing the stages of grief

First I was like, "this won't take long at all... it's a beautiful day! And getting up here at all is really the hardest part."

Then I spent a few hours sputtering a fuming inexplicably- pissed at Katy somehow (WHY wasn't she checking on me more often?!? Why hasn't she figured out a way to play some music for me?!?). Then turning the anger towards other members of my family- and friends that aggrieved or abandoned me (both living and dead).

I turned to Jesus a few times... "Help me out here, Lord, Please, I'll do anything..."

Then I got sad.

Really sad- strangely sad, thinking sad things as if I were alone in the wilderness and not on the roof of my own home. It was then that the events of last week (weather and baby's illness aside) came back to me... That we experienced the 2nd death of 2011. A friend of our family, Kevin. And then the "stages of grief" exercise that my brain was taking on didn't seem so totally strange.

Kevin married into the Tabor clan - whom I've spoken about here when G'pa Jim died and countless other times (especially when talking about the pool in the summer). The tabors are our family. The family we chose, choose, and continue to choose. My parents grew up with them and so did my sister and I.

They are some of the few people that know me now who also knew me when I was a shy, skinny kid. They helped me grow up. They encouraged my budding sense of humor, my musicality, my athleticism, my intellectual pursuits, and that I be honest and follow my heart. There's a stagger in the generations and sometimes I have more in common with the "adults" and sometimes I have more in common with the "kids" (we are all adults now so the gap is getting more narrow...) but I used to babysit for the kids of my babysitters and now those same kids, I occasionally call on to sit for my kids. It's a little convoluted, but it works. When I need advice or help, I call on my aunts, uncles and cousins in this "adopted" family as much as in my "real" family.

Kevin married one of Jim's daughters and they had 2 daughters of their own. They had a wonderful life, but at some point, the marriage stopped working.

Kevin was in NYC the day the towers fell. He called home to say he was okay and on his way home, and then he disappeared for 6 or 8 hours. The "radio silence" was in part due to a lack of phone service, but it turned out his "escape" was delayed when he was distracted by helping rescue workers sift through rubble some before making his way out of there. I remember getting a call that told me he was safe. And then I got a call saying he was missing. I remember hours and hours going by and I worked hard pushing the thought out of my head that we would never see him again. Then he came home, but he was never really the same after that. I only saw him once or twice again. His marriage had started falling apart before September 11th, and took some time to completely crumble. But even when we were all together, he always found a way to disappear from a crowded party after that.

Up on the roof yesterday, I couldn't help think of him and all this stuff I either hadn't thought of before, or hadn't thought of in a long time. He died last Saturday, January 22 at the age of 57. He died of natural causes after quite a few years (and reportedly several consecutive days) of abusing his body with not-so-healthy substances. He leaves behind 2 beautiful, strong, and heartbroken children. And a mess of us that miss him- what he was, what he could have been; plus the sadness that comes from knowing he experienced a lot of emotional pain and/or psychological anguish that couldn't be extinguished.

When I heard of his death, I had a very intellectual reaction that essentially amounted to, "That's so sad." When I went to the memorial service, and saw photos of him and saw his family- family that my heart recognizes as "my" family... i had a very emotional reaction. It surprised me. To suddenly be weeping and missing so urgently, someone I hadn't seen or spoken to for most of a decade...

Up on the roof, in the clear, cold air, I realized I was a bit of an emotional basket case. I was angry that this had to happen to him. Angry that he couldn't figure out a way to make himself whole. Sad and disturbed that the chance he could somehow make things better or right was gone forever. Sick that sometimes in the world, things just don't work out. Sad for my childhood and a time when there was less gray area in all aspects of life... I was glad to have all that physical labor to help me work it out.

Today, I am either sick, or just exhausted. So many parts of my body are sore: fingers, toes, arms, legs, neck, back; my throat is raw, my sinuses constantly draining post-nasal drip, my stomach full of mucus, my head pounding.

The weather forecast is not mild- the winter machine is starting again... the next three days might entirely erase all my hard work on the roof. But I feel I've done something to try to protect our property and our family, and that is something, at least.

You catch your breath and winter starts again...

It snowed every day this week... We got 3" on Tuesday, 3-4" on Wednesday, and another 12-15" of snow overnight...

Since I last wrote, our family has been through the ringer a little bit.

Tuesday night, I couldn't wait to watch the State of the Union Address (SOTU). I am a little bit of a political junkie and the SOTU is like the Superbowl to me (especially with a Dem in the White house). I even had this "live blogging" idea going where instead of driving Katy absolutely nutty by exposing her to my internal dialogue, I would write it to the blog in real time.

But something was up with ML- he was breathing too fast and audibly wheezing, and had hurled the contents of his stomach all over 2 different rooms after the hot steam shower I gave him. Katy and I were both already exhausted from commuting to and from work in the winter weather and 4 separate full body clean ups on 2 children. Katy announced, "I think I have to go to bed," and I replied, "I think I do too." Then my wife passed out from the shock of seeing me wave a white flag in the face of exhaustion. When she came to, we headed upstairs and our little boy woke up not but a few minutes later pretty uncomfortable. He seemed a little warm, but it was definitely his breathing that was freaking us out. We put it off and put it off b/c who wants to bring their 16 month old out into the cold night to get him checked out at the ER? We could have headed there at 8 or 9pm, but by 11:30 pm, we couldn't deny that he was breathing too fast, retracting, wheezing, not able to sleep, and it was getting worse. I called my mom to come sit with JB and we packed the little hyperventilator up.

There is an ER 10 minutes away that I would take myself to in a heartbeat, but it is not a children's hospital, to get there means a 3o minute drive. It is tempting, but I know I will never (if it is in my power) take a kid of mine to a hospital that is not a children's hospital. We were triaged in minutes and then given a number to wait - which is surprisingly reassuring when you have a sick baby. We were taken into a room within 15 to 20 minutes, and were there about 2 hours. They gave him some respiratory treatments which made him all jittery and tachycardic, but pretty much stopped the wheezing. They suctioned him, which did nothing but hurt his moms and piss him off. They said: "Probably RSV," and "Bronchiolits" and sent him home on albuterol.

We got home at about 3am. My dad had come by on his way home from work to keep my mom company and was shoveling our driveway when we pulled in. My eyes were rolling in my head by then, but we all slept only a few hours before Katy had to get up and go to work. I got JB off to school- walked him to the door with ML bundled in my arms and shouted a goodbye without actually crossing the threshold of the day care- not wanted to spread germs. Then I spent the day trying to console a very unhappy boy.

ML is not what we call a snuggle-bug. That is not to say he isn't sweet. He is a sweetie. But he won't sit in your lap for more than a few seconds. One of his favorite games is begging to get up on your lap and then wiggling right off again ad infinitum. But these last 2 days, he would just sit on your lap and/or rest his head on your shoulder, breathing at a rate of 39-48 breaths a minute. (Which, trust me, is alarmingly fast). He was lethargic and only a little interested in food, drink, or sleep. He just wanted to sit, stare ahead, and breathe. It was pathetic and scary. At some point in the day, I was too tired to stay awake with him, so I put him in bed with me and we both slept on and off for a few hours... It was decidedly un-ML-behavior... that he was just content to lay there and play with my hands or hair when he wasn't sleeping.

Last night, he was also restless and feverish, as high as 102.5. But this am, he was better and wanting to run around a little again. I fought the elements to get to work, and Katy took a snow day/sick kid day to be home. She got him to the doctor who checked to be sure there was no obvious infection that the ER might have missed. He screamed and cried b/c now he really hates medical personnel...

This has been a long week. But one that has made me feel grateful in this exhaustion.

We have broken the record for the most snowfall in one month - I can't find the exact number, but I think it is 54". And guess what, there is more snow headed here this weekend. Frankly, I've been loving it. I really have. And the more people complain about it... that just makes me love it more. But today... so tired... so spent from worrying and caring for the boy and you look out the window and calling it 12" is conservative. I was not looking forward to the battle of the driveway.

And then the neighbor, Tom, comes over with his snow blower...
What's a 4-letter word for a neighbor that comes over at 8am with a snow blower???
H-E-R-O

SRSLY- that guy has no idea how much we needed that.

Intuititvely obvious life lessons...

1) Sleep makes you feel less tired

Turns out that when you go to bed at 10pm and don't get woken up by a teething, sobbing mammal with a fever in the middle of the night, it makes a BIG difference how you feel in the morning.

For the last several nights, I went to bed around midnight (usually a little later), and WAS woken up somewhere between the hours of 1 and 4am. Consequently, I spent the better part of the last 3 days trying not to spontaneously start whimpering like The Princess Bride's Wesley after enduring the rack.

2) The main job of Children is to collect and spread germs

I know there are a a lot of things that people think Children should be and do-
- Be seen and not heard
- Spread joy
- Pass on your genes
- Scrub this floor until it shines like the top of the Chrystler building
- (and for the RCC) Be protected from the evils of homosexuality... (protected by ??priests??... sidebar... moving on...)

But from an evolutionary standpoint, this is their job for the first few years... to build up an immune system that is capable of fighting off all sorts of bacteria and viruses so that illness won't eliminate them like those visitors from War of the Worlds (Jeeze, I'm really on a movie reference kick this AM).

Between my sister's kids and our kids, one of the 4 has thrown up at least once in the last 5 or 6 weeks. Usually, they seem perfectly happy, then they get green for 48 seconds, look at you and say, "I have to go potty." Then they shoot the contents of their stomach at you in the living room, or where ever is inconvenient. Then after their vague embarrassment passes and the clean up is complete, they resume playing as if nothing happened at all.

Anyway, these kids are not ALWAYS sick so much as sporadically sick, unpredictably healthy, and major CARRIERS of infectious disease. Attempting to quarantine them when they are "sick" is impossible as the cousins would never see each other again. Katy and I have stopped even being phased by runny noses and coughs, but we are still in the mindset of trying to avoid the ever-elusive "stomach bug". The problem is, we do not know when the next puke will come... or from who. And even as seasoned health care professionals, we do not understand the meaning of low grade fevers that come and go for a week or more without any other symptoms.

This is no big deal if I am well-rested. But if I'm particularly exhausted, I start to get paranoid that my tiny children are trying to kill me.

3) Your tiny children are NOT trying to kill you

Another ridiculous week

I'm so wiped out, right now. But so happy.

It got hot again this week- 90 plus degrees for 4 or 5 days now.

A hurricane is on the way: Earl.
It shouldn't be that big if/when it hits us (they think category 2) but we bought some water and supplies just in case.

Last weekend, my gram fell and broke her wrist at a funeral we were attending. She's fine, but watching her go thru that left a lot of us a little shaky.

After getting to see many good peeps this weekend, Katy and I got sick Sunday night. We had the exact same symptoms, and the exact same time of onset- so we couldn't blame one another like we normally might.

We only occasionally glared with contempt and animosity at our two boys, perfectly healthy little cesspools that they are... whatever virus caused their barely noticeable runny noses and crankiness last week turns the adults of the house into piles of tissue-seeking, sinus-head-achy, sleeping with cough drops in our mouths, and taking advil around the clock, sudafed addicts.

JB looked at my pathetic, sickly expression yesterday morning, took out a notebook, and with the speed of an expert Nurse Practitioner writing a prescription for Victoza, he drew me a masterpiece that resembled a Sine curve in black, fine point ink and told me, "This is for you... so that you can have it... for work."

Read between the lines, people! He really gets me, and knew that it would help my cold (and my feelings of desperation) to have a piece of him with me all day.

Not to be outdone, ML waited all day at day care- doing his thing, which involves dragging his care-givers around in circles, clutching one of their fingers as if he is Gollum and the finger he is holding is wearing the RING- until I walked thru the door at 4:40pm. He stood, steadied by his band of merry women, and walked to me. WALKED. Not dragging someone with him by their finger. Not 1 or 2 steps... no. It was at least 6 steps. It felt like 7 or 8 or 10 steps before he reached me.

I was in awe. Laughing and cheering. I assumed he'd been doing this all day, but the expressions on his care givers' faces indicated to me that either they would go on to win academy awards one day, or this was the first time they had seen ML deliver on the promise of upright mobility too. "We knew you could do it!" they shouted and clapped...

I was prepared to go home and not see this behavior again for a while. When ML laughed for the first time, he giggled and chortled for a full 15 minutes and then we didn't hear it again for 3 or 6 weeks. But last night, he walked and walked and walked.

And tonight, we got a digital recording of it:



Um, yeah. That right there? That is on day TWO of walking... In his life.
DAY.
TWO.

Awesome. (Sung in a high-pitched vibrato)

JB has been very sweet, encouraging ML to walk.

He has paused a moment several times to look at us with a cocked head and an expression of, "WTF is everyone so worked up about... I 'been walking up in here for several years now, fishes!!!"

But he seems to understand enough to shake that confusion from his eyes and mirror our excited and proud reactions. Already, Katy and I have stopped cheering for every one of ML's new steps. (Mostly it is because our energy levels are low and our minds are fragile and limp from the week's "illness"... But also, I mean, do you see how many STEPS this kid is taking?!? Constant cheering of that volume is a lot to ask...) Anyway, JB- you can hear him in the background of that recording- if he sees ML walking and we are not making a big enough deal about it, he brings it to our attention: "HE'S DOING IT... HE'S WALKING."

I think he is trying to show how supportive he is (we heap praise on JB whenever he acts the part of "doting brother.") But the expression in his voice doesn't quite get to, "LOOK AT MY AWESOME BROTHER!!!" He instead sounds equal parts excited, panicked, and underwhelmed; like he could be saying, "LOOK THERE, HE'S TRYING TO EAT HIS OWN POO AGAIN, LIKE I TOLD YOU HE WOULD..."

I said to Katy tonight, "I don't remember being this excited when JB took his first steps."
She said, "You were."
Memory is a strange thing. Every day I am totally enthralled, enamored, and sometimes freaked out by how amazing JB is, but I really don't remember him being as awesome as ML is at this age. Maybe I wasn't paying enough attention back then. Maybe there's not enough brain power to store specific feelings. Maybe I'm successfully "living in the moment". Maybe it's what we always blame it on: sleep deprivation. In any case, just to bring my heart back there, I went searching for this post: Evidence of Walking.

Like I've said before:
The heart and body remember things the mind can't...
For the rest of it... I guess that's why there are cameras.

Bottom line: I sure do love these boys.

Tonight, to celebrate, we went to the pool.
The perfect way to end a 94 degree day.

I feel very, very blessed!

The last monday in June

I know it has been a dog's age since I have posted...
Sometimes keeping up with this here Gin-Soaked Olive is all I want to do and when it isn't caught up, I get tense and then I think, if I could only get back to writing I would feel better, but then there are so many things that NEED to get done, that it seems selfish and silly to not do the things you should do and so you avoid spending precious time doing the thing that you WANT to do... and then when you can't do the things you need to OR the things you want to, you start to punish yourself further by imagining some large scale strategy for re-creating the stories that you have failed to post in the time you've been away...

Maybe it's just me that does all this.

Anyway, Since I've written last, these are the things I want to catch you up on:
- Josh (Katy's brother) and Linda's wedding
- Our trip to Seattle and Portland (for the wedding)
- Summer fun at the Ta-BAR pool
- Status update on the new day care
- JB's first trip to the ER and stitches
- My birthday

All in good time.

It has been an interesting few weeks (if you can't tell from that list). It has also been a HOT summer so far. We are without central air for the first time in 5 years and trust me when I tell you, we have gotten weak. I swear that JB was sweating himself awake and then hallucinating because of the weather. ML gets really red when he is hot and it looks like he has a sunburn on his face, but when you bring his body temperature down, he color returns to normal.

So just because my eyes are burning too much (fatigue and I think from all the sweat that has run into them in the last few days) I am just going to give you the highlights from today:

2010 - the last monday in june:

8:01 AM - on my way to work, it is already 85 degrees F. Katy and I have agreed that she needs to spend part of her day off bringing the boys to their doctor b/c JB needs his last stitch that hasn't disolved out of his face yet to be removed (it's been 12 days); and ML seems like he has another ear infection: slight temp, tugging at ear, tell-tale cough.

8:03 - i realize I forgot my sunglasses and go home to retrieve them

8:10 - I've made it to the highway; I look at the dash, the temp is up to 87

8:36 - at work, check voicemail: that girl we need to fire if she calls out one more time, she's called out. Check email: very angry and obnoxious email from clinician/employee

9am - text from katy: the boys have an appointment at 10 am

10 am - Meeting

11 am - call from Katy: ML does have an ear infection- his second in 6 weeks

11:30 - another email from disgruntled clinician

1:30 - meeting

2:30 - another meeting

3:30 - 3rd email from (this time) an IRATE clinician who has apparently "nothing to lose." [The bitches I work with have no problem spewing out emotional emails to the very people that sign their checks -it never ceases to amaze me... Oh, and also, being a manager in this economy is fun. Everyone assumes you are stupid and out to get them before imagining there might have been a worse option on the table that you rejected to protect them... and keep the company doors open.]

3:40- insanely awesome 15 minute downpour

4:49 - abandonment of attempted email responses to irate/disgruntled/obnoxious clinicians

5:01 - in car; temp 92 degrees

5:40pm - arrive home. ML hasn't really slept all day. Has had 2 doses of antibiotics and looks like a kid that someone left in the sun all day without sunscreen; JB tells me he "laid on the table and let Dr K take my stiches out with no fuss or moving." excellent job, baby!

6:10 I give ML a bath

6:17 I dress ML in the cutest short-pants PJs

6:20 Katy and I give ML some motrin

6:22 I give ML a bottle

6:26 ML gives me a dubious burp

6:27 ML projectile vomits all over my shirt and the family room; into my purse, splatter on the wall and the TV table

6:30 Katy comes to get ML so that I can clean up a little and get him back in the tub; i strip down to my lady skivies

6:33 I go to get ML in time to see him projectile vomit all over Katy and the upstairs bathroom; I undress him and take him in the shower with me... he falls asleep in the shower. I dress him and hold him in the glider for nearly an hour to calm both him and me. He is coughing, twitchy, and looks so tall to me, but so tiny at the same time. I meditate on all the scary times we've had with him- worrying about his health, even though for the most part he is so healthy. I do some reiki on him. I do this "forgiveness" meditation that I learned in grad school that is mostly about forgiving yourself for not being perfect. I take time taking him in and feeling the heat rise off of his body- it is 86 degrees in the room, and he has cool cheeks and forehead, but a very warm torso and noggin'. He is the sweetest kid and I can't imagine how I would handle it if something were ever seriously wrong with him, this little illness almost seems too much to bare. I like just sitting there with him, alone together while JB gets to watch another episode of Handy Manny with his mama.

7:45 I head to the store to buy air conditioners. Katy and I have toyed with the idea of installing central air, but don't know if we can really afford it this year. We haven't purchased any AC units b/c i hate window units (they block the windows ALL summer, and can ruin the windows); and b/c we think, "summers in New England" are not all that hot... just a few weeks total all summer long... and b/c we are each still holding on to the dream that one of us will produce a compelling enough argument to "bite the bullet" and hire the HVAC guy to fill our house with ducts carrying magic/cool air. June is not over and this is at least our 7th night of >80 temps at night. I speed off to keep my sweet wife and my baby boys protected from the crankiness that comes with narrowly avoiding heat stroke on a daily basis.

10pm I finish installing an AC in the boys room and an AC in our room.

10:30 I toy with my iphone for a while- the new itunes upgrade is cool and allows for me to have a little fun grouping apps into "folders"

10:48 I skip a rational bedtime and ignore the burning in my eyes to write this down for all of you.

Soon: I go to bed.

Tiny piles of pebbles

We have some seriously cute kids.

Since I posted last about the snotty noses, I took the ruggies to the doctor. We just didn't feel comfortable with how long the kids have been coughing and the low grade fever that JB seemed to have (even in 80 degree pre-summer weather).

Long story short: JB's left ear tube (that was just placed in jan) is definitely OUT of the ear drum, resting uselessly in the Eustachian tube. And that ear is infected. Furthermore, ML's ears (BOTH OF THEM) are infected... didn't really see that coming.

Just to put it in perspective for you, ML had a double ear infection brewing the week he learned to crawl, pull himself to standing, wave, clap, and eat egg yolk for the first time. This kid is the happiest baby on the planet. His smile just lights up the joint. And man is he on the move. We don't ever remember JB going this fast at things...

For JB's part, he has been exceedingly whiny, crying at the drop of a hat and a little on the pissed off side. He yelled at the chair yesterday because he ran into it:

JB: NO, CHAIR! BAD! YOU STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!

KT: We do not yell at things. And when we make a mistake, we do not blame or take it out on someone or something else. And we do not call anyone 'Bad'.

JB: (throws himself on the floor in a sweaty, snotty puddle)

The thing is, he is so transparent. They rave about him at the new school. How good he is, how polite he is; how well-mannered and helpful... I ask them about the amount of whining, they look at me like I am crazy. I get that he does this at home with us b/c he is safe here and because he needs to try to feel in control of something, but it is amazing how different he is with us compared to other people. It is likely that this is just what we need to put up with for right now (and don't forget, he is on antibiotics AND has an ear infection) but it does make me wonder if we are doing something wrong- are being too hard on him somehow, or too lenient...

But when the little animal inside him settles, he is just so wonderful in his questioning of the world, his sensitivity, his intellect.

He has a teddy bear that he traded in "Teddybear" for... Remember? "Teddybear" was a soft brown bear that he was addicted to... then he found the soft white bear that was given to ML by the same friends that gave JB Teddybear. Since ML can't have a sleeping partner for a while, we let JB adopt the white bear. "What do you want to call him, JB?" I asked

"Bear-y." He replied. "White... Bear-y White."

(You can see the imagination this kid has for names)

Katy and I laughed. So now, we have Teddybear and Barry White. And it's true, JB cannot get enough of this bear's love. He falls asleep dragging these soft paws all over his face and belly and arms. If he's feeling particularly cuddly with you, he will turn your hand over and rub Barry's paw on yours. It is as generous an offering as the last spoonful of an ice cream cake. This week he told me, "i have a secret i wanna tell you." and when I lent him my ear he whispered,

"I love my Barry White."

This is just one example of his sweet, quirky ways. Some others:

If I seem a little quiet, he might look over at me and say, "Mommy, wanna tic tac?"

He'll remind us on the way out of the house not to forget our sunglasses or to put on sunscreen.

When ML is crying he touches brother's head and says, "It's okay, ML" or the other day he told us, "I'll get my guitar and my pick and play him a song."

He likes to collect little things. I keep finding piles of tiny rocks around: There's one in the garage, one on the front porch, one in the cup holder of his new car seat- 5 or 6 rocks in a line or in an imperfect circle. I just went to wash his coat and found these in one of the pockets:

God help me if throwing shit you think is interesting or cute into your pockets is hereditary.

I am home today, getting ready for our trip, and when I went to put this load of laundry in, I was picking up towels- lots of towels... Before we had kids, katy and I would use like 2 or 3 towels a week, total. But now, I use a new one more frequently instead of reusing- either because one of the boys has needed mine that was hanging up OR b/c they are showering with me or because we had to wipe snot with one and don't want to cross-contaminate us or them... or whatever the reason...

As I'm picking up all these barely used towels to launder, I'm struck by how clean and lotioned and towel dried and buffed and fluffed our kids are. They get cream and sunscreen in the morning. They get a bath every night. They get liquid soap and shampoo and conditioner and a combination of 4 different types of moisturizing ointments. They get their noses wiped with puffs plus and diaper wipes and soft cloths. They get toothpaste and lip balm and they stay soft and gorgeous. Sometimes I want to be all like,

These beautiful children are brought to you by the makers of:

and

and

and

With all the whining and crying and griping, sometimes it is hard not to stare straight ahead from 5-9 pm in an exhausted state and wait for this "period of our lives" to be over... But I don't want to forget what is going on right now. We are pouring all the love we have out onto these little ones.

Even when they kick us and cry and scream, and take their frustrations out on us (and the furniture); even when as mommies, we aren't always evolved enough to avoid taking our frustrations out on each other, I don't want to forget the way we are rubbing our love and intentions onto them. And the way we are washing tears away with soft cotton and kisses and hugs. When you use your hands to do this, it soaks into your flesh too.

Katy and I do it instinctively, but purposefully- we care for them in this very physical way every day (wipe and clean their faces and bodies and work to keep their skin healthy and intact). We do this sometimes in a sleepwalking state, sometimes out of habit, but often as if it is the most important thing we will ever do.

Because it kind of is.

And it comes back to us in totally random ways- like piles of rocks carefully selected and left as if a work of art. In the report from the teachers that every day at school, JB asks for a napkin at lunch time and then other kids follow in his footsteps and do the same. In the way ML spends his first double ear infection jungle-gym climbing the furniture and laughing at his brother...

We are lucky lucky mommies!

Goopy Eyes

Last week ML got conjunctivitis. We put the drops in for five days... it went away. A few days later, the goop came back. We restarted the drops, it started clearing right up again. He's looked great for a day or two.

Tonight, we pick JB up from day care.
There was a cheesy curd in one of his eyes... 30 minutes later, another chunk in the other eye.
A few hours later, we are duck taping his hands to his torso to keep his fingers out of his custard filled sockets which we are clearing with tissues and washcloths on intermittent-windshield-wiper mode.

We page the on-call to get some drops prescribed and start talking to JB about taking medicine and drops for his eyes so that he feels better. We notice that he feels a little warm. After a brief parental conference, we offer JB a tspn of Tylenol*... [*Well, a GENERIC dose of "Acetaminophen" because as many of you know, ALL TYLENOL PRODUCTS have been voluntarily recalled.]

So, Katy pours a dose for the boy and she and I start talking about who is going to the pharmacy to pick up the drops. And I look over and he is tipping the cup of Tylenol* back toward his eye...

"NNNNNNNOOOoooooooooo" I shout out. Katy whips her head around and JB looks at us, the plastic medicine cup held out in front of his face as if to say, "What the fuck is with you two?!?"

The moms laugh.

"That doesn't go into your eye," we tell him. "The eye drops go into your eye. The medicine goes into your mouth and belly." JB shrugs and does the shot. Then he laughs, "That's silly."

We tell him he is smart and we are proud of him for taking his medicine like a big boy.

We sigh in relief that we are on our game- there are so many chances for misunderstandings with these kids. But they are so damn cute and smart!

Pink eye

New petri dish indeed...

ML has been on drops for 24 hours and the eye goop is retreating.

New Petri Dish

JB is sick.
Mucus production high.
Random grabbing at ears and head.
Crying in his sleep.

We didn't even try to keep him out of our bed because he kept waking up, totally disoriented, and so unable to answer any of our questions that we weren't sure if he was asleep or awake.

We tried to give him the words in an either-or:
"Do you have pain or are you just "nose runny"?"
or, a multiple choice format: "What hurts- your ears, throat, or head?"

No luck he woke up every few hours shouting out and crying.
He was a whirling dervish in his sleep, twirling horizontal at us and pushing us toward our edges with his jabbing limbs, and flapping head. It was a friday night- TGI the weekend- so I was glad that we could have this night without really worrying about being up all night.

He woke up slowly this am, but seems better now.

ML has a runny nose too. Thick snot- not the regular, "day care clear drip" that is a fact of life. Oh, and flushed cheeks - though that could be from his new tendency to drag his face across
the floor when his arms tire out.

Day cares are germ labs.
Each one is different and the only choice is to let your kids BUILD UP IMMUNITIES!

We saw this coming a mile away!

Waiting for the blister to pop

So today was the first day of the new day care.
The moms were way more stressed than the kids.

Last week we said a sad "see you later" to the care givers at our old school.
Drop off this morning was a confusing whirlwind: Did we explain enough to the boys? to the staff? Will they be nice to each other? Will the unknowns be overwhelming?

This afternoon we were told how cute and sweet and charming our boys are.
It was a relief.
Not a relief in the confirmation of their cuteness, but a relief that we got here- and made it thru the first day.

Making the decision to pull these kids out of day care and choosing a new school; then preparing for it and waiting for the day to come... And then saying goodbye to the friends we have made, that we like seeing every day, that we have entrusted our babies to... THAT was stressful.

Saturday, we went to a party. JB got a scratch or a mosquito bite or something. He has shown my propensity to swell and burn from bites. As has happened in the past, a small blister formed at the spot of the presumed bite. We covered it in a band aid, but the blister grew and grew... The size of a pin head, the size of a pencil eraser. He went to bed last night and I was anxious, not only about the changes to come in the morning, but also that that thing would pop in the night and cause him some pain on his first day of school. This morning, it was HUGE. Literally the size of a grape. On his little tiny hand!!!

I just didn't know what I dreaded more- the moment that blister popped, or having to continue to look at it... It's not that different from the day care decision.

Inertia is hard. Doing something is so much harder than doing nothing. Even when you know that doing nothing could lead to bad things later on, it is frequently hard to justify changing course. At the same time, Once you are on a certain trajectory (like after making the decision to change schools and/or once that blister grows bigger than the diameter of his thumb...) you just can't stop the forward movement to the next thing... You just can't wait to get where you are going to end up...

POP.

EEEeewwwwwwe.

At approximately 5:30 pm that thing gushed open, splashing all over both of our hands and arms.
Nasty.
But as a wiped it off, i enjoyed the relief that washed over me.

Tomorrow will probably hurt JB a little more than today (the blister, but maybe the new school too)... But at least there can be a break from the dread anticipation we've been drowning in around here as we marched toward this day.

April Showers

It's been rainy for 2 days.

I am out of it.

Out of energy. Out of reserves. Out of snappy, positive, one-liners about May flowers and it's always darkest before the sun...yada. yada. yuck-yuck-yuck.

If i were a celebrity, I would have been rushed off the set by now and hospitalized for exhaustion. You would have been rolling your eyes, yes, but you would not have wondered where I was (why no blog posts) because you would have read about it by now in the tabloids while waiting in line to buy your sloppy joes and jujubes.

There are a lot of forces contributing to my feeling devastatingly tired:

• Last night, the kids slept thru the night... but they didn't. It only seemed like they did because Katy went in there before I woke up. I try to let it not bother me at all... This waking up one or 2 times a night is NOTHING compared to what we were going thru, but now we are hitting 8-ish months since ML was born and yeah, it is gettting... zzzzzzz... oops, I fell off there- what's going on? Where am i?
  
• Exercise... I'm not really getting any. I sort of want some, but mostly don't. My body is stiff and bloated and not playin'. The tendinitis is acting up and my feet are starting to always be a source of pain... Losing some weight would help you say? Maybe, but can't we just sit here on the couch everyone?!? Yes, yes, I know it will help me feel better... Oh SHUT it Jillian Michaels! I would look like you too if that was my JOB!!!
  
• Day care - we are about to pull our kids out of the only day care they have known and put them into a different one. I have a lot to write about this that I haven't, but it is causing me lot of anxiety. They will do fine, I know, but this is a major routine disruption for all of us. Thankfully, all four kids (Cam and Mac and our boys) will be making the change together. NEXT WEEK. Hives anyone?!? I'm covered in hives. And I'm broken out like a first-generation weber cousin. My stomach is turned in knots and I'm telling you this is how people get SICK, this kind of I-can't-stop-my-brain-from-spinning-or-employ-logic-to-stop-my-gut-from-churning anxiety.
  

Disruptions of routines are very hard.
Even when they are good, they set you back a few energy bars.

The grannies were in town last week. They brought with them an insane amount of love and Lion King paraphernalia:

and at-home child care for a week that offered us the luxury of 1) not rushing 2 kiddies in and out of the house around our work schedule 2) Four extra loving hands to help with feeding, playing, bathing, etc of said kiddies, and 3) even "after care" so that the mommies could go out on a date together.

JB got to sleep late, nap whenever, and play all day! ML learned to walk*, wave, and solve quadratic equations. *The motion of walking one foot in front of the other, not walk walk.

Then, the grannies left and frankly we all a little disoriented... Katy and ML are coughing and dripping and sniffling, JB is back to his tiny dictator status... I'm walking around here like a bloated Britney Spears in an existential crisis; without the bankroll (or the addiction) required to get into a Promises-type treatment facility.

I'm not trying to be negative. I'm living the dream here. But is it me, or is the dream sometimes a vampire that causes severe anemia?!?

Defender of Family values

Wednesday night, JB got sick, in the middle of the night.
He woke up crying, clutching his face, all inconsolable and "it hurts" and "Waaaaaaaaa-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh-Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
We had to take him into our room and turn on a movie to calm him down.

This is a thing we don't usually do- movie, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!?! Definitely NOT.
But something was hurting him and he was disoriented. He's been getting better and better in his ability to communicate, but that night after telling us that "It hurts" he could not or would not help us understand what part of him was hurting. Katy and I decided, maybe 2 year old molars???

We gave him some tylenol and let him stay with us in our bed.

Occurring simultaneously, ML was freaking out...

We (well mostly Katy) have been torn about putting the boys in same room. It fits our life better- gives us a guest room and a place to put "an office", offers the boys a chance to bond later on over such things as, "Why are our parents such assholes that we have to share a room when there's another room YOU could live in down the hall." And, "I hate you." and also, "Don't touch my stuff".

The room they share is certainly large enough for both of them, but at this precarious phase of major parental sleep deprivation, we (well, mostly Katy) are always afraid of them waking each other up. So far, this hasn't played out in as much as the very opposite thing has happened: instead of waking each other up, they just take turns waking us up...

Back to last Wednesday... JB's crying out in pain DID wake up ML. And he was beside himself. Not in a typical "I have no object permanence this is all about me" kind of infant way. But in a WHY IS MY BIG BROTHER SO UPSET? kind of way. Katy and I each took a boy and tried to soothe them in separate rooms, but ML was distraught, looking for his brother. He genuinely seemed to be unsettled because JB was upset. ML was staring out the door, craning his neck around, trying to get a visual of his bro.

A few weeks ago, when I sent KT and JB out of the house to sleep train ML, on the 3rd night, I could have sworn that ML looked over at JB's empty bed and started crying. I chalked it up to the delirious imaginings of a desperately tired mom, but the more I watch this baby watch JB, the more I'm convinced it really did happen. If JB is in a room, ML will not even respond to his own name if turning his head means breaking visual contact.

Obviously, I have no idea how their relationship will develop and who will be the defender of who. But if I had to make a prediction, I'd say that ML will always be looking out for his big brother... I think we have a little enforcer on our hands.

------------------------

So, Thursday brought a fever for JB and Friday's visit to the PCP revealed an ear infection, "junky" sounding lungs, a prescribed course of oral antibiotics and (most upsetting) the news that his left ear tube- placed only 2 months ago- has likely been displaced. unless there is a ton on strategically placed wax in that ear, obscuring the view of the tube, it is not present in the ear drum.

Total bummer.

Rough few days

The week has been hard already and the snow is coming now.

Snow is not a metaphor... I really mean "snow" as in "wintery mix" that will either bury us or miss us completely- we won't know until it is over this weekend. The weather people are way off their game this year.

I am hurting from a lack of sleep. I stayed up Monday to write that post and then was up most of the night with both kids and in the morning I felt like I might not make it. The boys have been needy and I have been short tempered at times. Tuesday's drop off left my nerves shot because I spent an hour rushing them (esp JB) out of the house. Rushing the kids is my least favorite part of parenting (though fingernail and toenail trimming run a close 2nd)... but there is really no way around rushing them sometimes. I tried not to cry on the drive to work, but a few tears did leak out.

Last night I got a few hours of sleep and woke up feeling better. I even worked out tonight, so I am feeling NOT as much like DYING as I was the day before... But JB was sent home from school after vomiting. And ML slept fairly well last night, so tonight will likely not go as well. Both kids have terrible coughs. They are drippy messes and i wouldn't be surprised if JB's stomach thing is merely associated with mucus production and inadvertent digestion of said mucus. I say that now fully aware I may be cleaning vomit and/or diarrhea and changing sheets before dawn. Now Katy seems to be coming down with something. None of us really felt like eating diner. She asked for a protein shake and we gave JB a few sips of that with some pedialite. ML ate almost as much as either of them in the form of drippy rice cereal.

The wife and I have tickets to see a show in NYC this weekend (Christmas gift from my sis and Bill- who have agreed to also take our kids for 2 nights.) We have been looking toward the weekend like it is a drink of water and we are in the desert, but if JB is actually sick (there seems to be 2 bugs going around day care: a real 24 hour GI bug and then the "your kid puked at day care, but went home and didn't seem sick at all pseudo-bug") and/or if Katy is sick, the weekend might not be a weekend at all but just a drive in for a show.

I hope not. I'm really looking forward to spending some alone time with her and perhaps getting 8 or so hrs of uninterrupted sleep.

We're home

Maybe I was too Pollyanna going in, but JB's tonsil/adenoids/ear tube surgery was so much worse than I expected. At the end of the day, JB did fine, but he was pretty miserable and he acted like a REAL asshole two year old when it came to taking his medicine and eating/drinking.

No matter what we asked of him, the answer was "no". The reverse psychology we tried was confusing even to me... At one point I heard myself telling him, "okay, I'm going to go tell the nurse to give this pain medication to another little boy, since I don't want u to have it."

?!?

I wasn't saying it angrily. Just sweetly trying to entice him into desiring something he wasn't allowed to have...

Totally fucked up!!!

Our biggest problem was that hospital discharge was contingent on his drinking and eating. But the more we harped on it, the more he refused: face all swollen, thick drool falling out, voice distorted and muffled, eyes rolling around in his head from the narcotics. I would have given anything to let him just do whateverthefuck he wanted to, but apparently dehydration means all sorts of terrible things in this scenario; not the least of which is increased discomfort for him.

We used the alarm on the iPhone (as we have been for potty training) to negotiate a sip of apple juice every 5 minutes. And TWO hrs later, he had put away 118 cc (4oz).

Nightmare.

I cannot hound a kid this little, this sick, for this long, with such poor results without wanting to off myself... Not. Kidding.

Thing was, except for two bites of a banana, that 118 cc was our only evidence that he could swallow after the surgery. That was literally ALL we could get him to take in after two days of not eating. Finally, when I was resigned to the fact that we would be staying another night at the hospital (visions of ML's illness and the emotional panic of "we're never getting out of here" PTSD dancing in my head) the surgeon came in and suggested he might do better at home.

Indeed. Apparently, with 2 days of IV on board, it would take 36-48 hours of him drinking NOTHING to get dehydrated. And all we have to get into him is 2-ish ounces every 3-4 hours. ML burps up more liquid than that!!!

So, JB has done better at home. A lot better. Including a nap in his own bed, a meal of at least 15 mini penne and several sips of both water and milk, a bath, brushing of teeth, and piling into a queen sized bed to sleep with his moms (and not a hospital twin).

Some advice for any that follow:

1) If your kid has never really had juice, it does not magically become an enticing reward or treat, post anesthesia. I think he might now never drink the stuff.

2) The same is true for jello, pudding, and popsicles. Though I think he might come around to these foods tomorrow, it seems that JB isn't really into the "sweet treats".

3) Handy Manny is everything that Bob the builder is not: calm, confident, polite, low-key, sweet, etc. I have a serious crush on Handy Manny (where I just seriously wanted to crush Bob the Builder)... Buying the Handy Manny DVD for this hospitalization may have just saved my life!

Not. kidding.

I'm saying this after watching that DVD all frigging day; and I don't even care if I have to watch it again tomorrow.

4) Sippy cups (with the valve taken out) is the way to dump some beverage in their mouth, when you are looking around- as I was- for some type of "hose" apparatus... If only I could find a way to spray some liquid in there... then he would be force to swallow it...

Pre-operative fun times:

A FEW MORE COMMENTS:

1) I don't know how single parents do this shit. I'm not kidding. My wife and I have been sleep deprived for weeks, probably months... AND we have each other AND we have family pretty much always available to help. AND family living with us right now taking charge of caring for ML during this. I just don't know or get how single parents do it.

2) Haiti. Earthquake. Awful.

3) Have you read "The conservative case for Gay Marriage" Newsweek cover story this week? It was written by Ted Olsen (conservative lawyer that successfully argued Bush v. Gore in front of the supreme court.) Ted Olsen and David Boies (Progressive lawyer that unsuccessfully argued Bush v. Gore to the Supreme Court) are the plaintiff lawyers attempting to overturn Prop 8 in California. I know the risk these lawyers are taking risks with my rights. If they bring the Prop 8 trial to this Supreme Court and they lose, it could set back marriage equality DECADES... That is why initially, HRC and Lamda Legal and mainstream gay rights groups opposed these two, white, straight guys taking charge in this battle.

But I can't help feel that they are doing it the "right" way. The other option: Enlisting only liberals in the fight and "waiting for the right time"??? Could there be a more "ball-sac" way of "demanding equality"?!?

I think not.

These guys... If they pull it off... Are going to go down in history as brave, American heroes. They are heroes in my book even if they don't pull it off. The arguments they are making are void of trickery, obvious, and compelling. Handy Manny has some competition for my heart today...

You can keep track of the trial (with commentary) here:

I'm going to try and put the feed in the sidebar... it's very interesting.

Sent from my iPhone