At least he's not smearing sh*t on the walls

Things Milo could be doing with his stubborn, high-spirited nature during these times of intense life changes:

1) breaking things

2) punching people

3) making himself throw up

4) launching food and overturning dinner plates

5) marking his territory with urine

6) stashing, storing, smearing, or otherwise playing with his own excrement

7) sneaking out and getting drunk with the guys... 

8) hooking up with the loose girls at day care

9) making fake IDs with my iPhone

10) having nightmares, really falling apart...

I guess an occasional 2 hour bedtime show-down is small potatoes. 

At first, I thought it was standard stalling and tried to be firm. But 30 mins in (20 mins after his older brother had started snoring), I stopped focusing on getting what I wanted and just started rummaging through drawers for a white flag to wave...

When he sat on the top stair, twinkled his non-tired eyes, rested his full, puffy cheeks in his not-so-tiny hands and answered my, "You are going to bed right now" with:

"No.  I'm not."  Then he got quieter:  "I. Am. Not...   Not going to bed...   Not tonight."
Then he looked at me, with pity and exhaled: "no. I'm not."

Serious as a heart attack.

People, I know when I'm beat.  My mama did NOT raise a fool.  I'm all about being the adult - "the parent" and setting limits.  But it was the calm in his eyes- like the sea in a glossy travel brochure; it was his non agitated, purposeful stare...

And as Yoda- oops, I mean - JAKE told me earlier today, "Mommy, do you know the secret to beating your enemies?  Make them your friends."

"Okay," I told my curly haired challenger, "If you're not going to bed, come down here and and help me clean up.  You can start by cleaning up your cars."

Trying to get them to bed early on transition day, I had planned to return the 17 die cast metal cars (we counted them aloud 4 times as he parked then in the shape of letters (and one time in the shape of a "mark" that I when I tilted my head a little I realized was a pretty perfect "question mark") away.

When the cars were away, I had him put the couch cushions back and fluff the throw pillows.  Then I told him to go get two books and we read them each - twice.  Then we headed upstairs and drank a small dixie cup of water and as I laid him down, we talked about his day:  The hole he dug in the sand (It was huge)... The sand he put on the slide (even though his teachers told him not to put sand on the slide)... We talked about kindergarten coming up in the fall.

He didn't know that I had already decided I wouldn't even be trying to leave his lower bunk bed until I was dismissed.

Back when I worked in the ICU, I had this little rule, if a patient/or family rang his/her call bell 3 times within 20 minutes, I would pack up my charts and go in there and sit.  I would first see what they needed, and answer their question or request; BUT then I would pull up a chair or desk and sit there yammering and/or charting until the patient and/or family would say something like, "You must have other work you have to do."

When I stopped peppering Milo with questions and the conversation started to lull, I didn't make a move to leave.  I didn't even shift my weight, but still he grabbed my face and whined: "I NEED you." I held my hands over his hands, tight on my cheeks.

"I need you and love you too,"  I replied

"I WANT you."  He pulled me tighter.

"I'm right here."  I kissed both his palms and offered him mine. 

"I ALWAYS need and want you."

"Me too."  More kisses on his hands and arms

"You always... yell at me."  

I laugh.  "I SOME-times yell at you when you don't listen, but I am not yelling right now."

I snuggled in closer. "I'm staying right here until you tell me I should go."

Literally 10 seconds pass.

"When you hear the 'DING' you go.... DING!"  He high-pitched the last word into a flawless, one-toned bell.

"Okay, when I hear that noise, I should go?"

"No.  It ding'd.  You should go now... it already ding'd."

 Now I'm laughing, hard: "Wait... Now? go now???"

"Yes.  You have to. It already Ding'd.  Sorry.  I love you.  Now go."

Bahahahahahahaha!

Seriously, this kid is ridiculous.

All you need is love...

When Katy and I were married, this was the song playing during our first dance together...

It is true, isn't it?  Love is all you need.

And also, sometimes, it's no where near enough.

There will be more to write and share because this blog is really for our sons, and when they grow up, they deserve to know a bit more about the "say what now?" that we have set in motion.  But tonight, it seems important to come clean on the Gin Soaked Olive...

Most of the last year has been a slow, heartbreaking dance of negotiation and decision (Katy's and my relationship hanging in the balance).  As marriage equality, literally swept the country; as DOMA was overturned; as state after state leveled the legal playing field, it became more and more clear that our marriage was coming to an end.  This Thanksgiving weekend brought to fruition the culmination of hundreds of hours of discussion and debate, and a physical split that has followed an emotional separation, a transfer of finances and home ownership, a filing for divorce.

In case I'm being too vague.  We regret to inform our readers that, Katy and I have split up.  Though we will always be a family, she has moved out of our home into a house she has purchased nearby, and we will share custody of Jake and Milo.

It is sad and difficult to explain. We have been and will continue to be as amicable as possible.  We will always prioritize the health and happiness of our sons.

And I will attempt to stop writing on these pages using so much "we" and shift to the more appropriate, first person singular voice.

SCOTUS hears Prop 8 and DOMA cases

People camped out to get a seat to hear the oral arguments before the SCOTUS on Tues and Wed.

If you want to consider the history of same sex marriage in the US, you have to go back in time pretty much to the founding of the country. (Fun fact: The only known conviction for lesbianism in American History happened in 1649 in Plymouth Colony- Sarah White Norman and Mary Vincent Hammon were prosecuted for "lewd behavior with each other upon a bed". Sweet!!!)

You have to go back at least to the early 1900's when suffragettes fought for and earned the right to vote (a few of them were making sweet whoopy with each other while they got it done).  You have to go back to the 50's and 60s and 70's: The eras of "Pinko commie" McCarthyism and the sexual revolution and long-haired-hippy anarchy.

You'd have to go back to the 80's: when gay men were dying all over the place.  HIV and AIDS decimated the community and then parents and relatives (many of whom had rejected their gay sons) would come in and take possessions and property that was left behind.  Such emotional and devastating circumstances of course had been a regular part of the lives of gay and lesbian couples in every time and century.  But the magnitude of the AIDS crisis and the way it required a community to mobilize into activism to literally stay alive and protect each other at the last moments of life changed something in the collective psyche of LGBT Americans.
 
That was the real beginning of marriage equality in my mind... Because as most married people will tell you, you don't need marriage benefits to get to feel the passion or the love, for the joy of the dance, to experience the fineness of wine or the deliciousness of cake.  You don't need marriage, for the age of Aquarius... You need it for what happens after happily ever after.

You need marriage for when your lover has died in your arms after a year of declining health that culminated with him shitting his insides out in the bed you used to have carefree sex in; and his parents want to know when you will be moving out.
You need marriage when they prohibit the only people who know and love you from visiting your ICU room.
You need marriage for when they try to deport the woman you love.
You need marriage for when some bullshit happens one day and two skyscrapers crumble to the ground and your kid's other dad (the one who brought home the bacon) disappears in a cloud of filthy dust.
You need marriage for when someone becomes disabled, or slips a disc, or gets cancer or the gay plague. 

Marriage is what allows you access to 1138 federal rights, benefits, and protections.  (And I'm not even including the stupid, helpful ones like getting a "family membership rate" at a gym or health club.)

Someone once told me, "Marriage is not so much about who you want to be with for the rest of your life, but who you don't want to be without..."

When Katy and I first met in the fall of 1999, the state of Vermont was 3 months away from allowing same sex couples to enter into a Marriage-like contract called a civil union.  So, even for us- the lucky ones- the ones that never doubted our self-worth and never experienced rejection by our family or friends- when we met, the idea that we might get married and/or be a (legal) family, that was a construct that did not exist.  That was something we would have to "fake" and/or "make up".

On May 17, 2004 (Four months and 1 day before we had a non-legal church wedding with 150 guests) the commonwealth of MA started allowing couples of the same gender to marry.
It wasn't a "civil union" like Vermont had made famous.  It was the actual, M-F'ing thing!!!

Except there was a problem... in 1991 (before I even knew I was gay)  3 same sex Hawaiian couples sued the dept of public health to be allowed to marry.  The case went all the way to the state's supreme court who ruled in favor of the plaintiffs- it ruled that the prohibition of gay marriage was unconstitutional.  And all manner of backlash followed.  Hawaii changed it's constitution to prevent marriage equality.  And the federal government passed a law that essentially said, "If a state passes a law allowing gays to get married, the federal government will NOT recognize those marriages."
The ironically named "Defense of Marriage Act" (DOMA)  had 117 co-sponsors and only 81 "no" votes out of 508 votes cast in the house and senate.  Bill Clinton signed without hesitation.  That is to say this was about as bipartisan a bill as we get to see these days...

Hindsight is 20/20.  I don't know how long people thought it would take for
1) A state to legalize same sex marriage and
2) For a legal challenge to DOMA to reach the SCOTUS, but that day is here (16 years, 6 months and 5 days later).

The remarkable thing, though, is not the 16-250 years it took to get us here.  The remarkable thing is what has happened in the last 4- 6 months.  You should know, as someone who's life will be directly impacted by what the Supreme court decides related to prop 8 and DOMA, I was nervous when they announced last fall they would be hearing the case this year.  I just thought, "It might be too soon."

History will be on our side, but if SCOTUS rules that prop 8 should stand or that DOMA is constitutional, it will be a LOOOOOOOOOOONG time to undo that nonsense.  In November, the voters of four different states voted either to enact marriage equality or to defeat a prohibition of it... That had NEVER happened before in the US.  Though several states had legalized same sex marriage, they did it either through the courts or through the legislatures.  Before the 2012 election, voters had been asked to vote on same sex marriage 30 times in 30 states and NOT ONE TIME until last November did the majority vote for marriage equality.  There are many who think that equal rights should not be put to a popular vote (include me in those numbers) BUT it is significant (understatement) that support for marriage equality is starting to become the majority opinion...

My wife and I got married in 2004 (non-legal, non binding church wedding).
We got a civil union, the first day we were legally able October 1, 2005.
And 5 years later, marriage equality was enacted in CT.  At that point our civil union passively converted into a (ta-da!) marriage.

10 states have enacted marriage equality since 2004 (CT, DC, IA, MA, MD, ME, NH, NY, VT, WA).
The sitting president of the United States has come out in favor of marriage equality; and the Democratic National Party added marriage equality to it's platform. And literally in the last month, the scales have tipped and public opinion polls are showing for the first time, a MAJORITY of Americans believe that SS couples should be treated equal under the law.

And tomorrow... the SCOTUS hears oral arguments.  People have been waiting in line since Thursday morning to get a seat.  Families like ours are crossing our hearts, holding our breaths and whispering prayers (while still trying to take care of our homes and our kids, like everyone else that doesn't have to consider their legal standing as a family on a daily basis.)

At issue:
1) The Prop 8 case - Is is legal to vote on civil right as related to marriage equality? if not, does that apply to only the California case? or does it apply to all states that have put these rights to a vote via ballot measure? 

2) The DOMA challenge - Is DOMA constitutional? Shouldn't federal and state governments have to treat all married couples equally?  Specifically, should the federal govt have penalized 83 year old Edith Windsor $360,000 in estate/inheritance tax when her wife, Thea died. (if Thea was her husband, that tax would not have been levied).  If DOMA is unconstitutional, does that apply only to the federal government? or do states that have their own DOMA laws also have to rectify the problem?

[A handy schematic]

I'm known to get a little fired up about marriage equality...
You should see what we have to do to get our taxes done (and by "WE" i mean "Katy").
- We have to prepare a federal joint tax return so that we can use that to file a joint state tax return.
- Then we have to prepare a "married filing jointly" state tax return.
- Then we have to imagine how our finances would look if we were not a couple, not a family and create a "fake" financial picture to complete our TWO "actual" federal "single" tax return filings.

So, yeah, I'm "excited" and fired up that this might be the last time we have to do "that" (and by that I mean LIE ON A FEDERAL FORM AND SAY I AM SINGLE, MOM, HEAD OF HOUSEHOLD WHO IS LIVING WITH [BUT NOT MARRIED TO] ANOTHER SINGLE, UNWED MOM...
WHEN I AM ACTUALLY A MARRIED WOMAN LIVING WITH MY WIFE AND OUR CHILDREN...)

But the surprising thing is, I'm really quite emotional about it.  (Read: Choked up)
I'm really quite hopeful (and only a little scared) that this court will support our rights as a couple and a family and parents.  It's hard to describe and explain because I swear to you I know in my heart that I am every bit as worthy as any other citizen, but after a good long ten years of the public debate of whether or not you have the right to exist as a family, it does get tired and hurtful and if this could possibly be the END of that???  I'd just be happy to consume myself with other, more mundane things.
In the last 10 years, the haters have had a lot of opportunity to gloat.
The courts keep ruling against them, but trust me when I tell you this is nerve-wracking.  The cases will be made tomorrow and Wednesday; the decisions won't come down before June.  But tomorrow, we will be figuratively standing there, forcing them to look us in the eyes and say it...
Go ahead, say it... 
Are we equal? Or are we 2nd class? 
Are we still too "yucky" to get access to Cobra and Social security and Military survivor-ship benefits? 
Will we have to wait another 16 to 20 years carefully explaining to our kids some convoluted version of the truth- that it's okay to trust and serve a society and a government that allows discrimination and bullying to be enshrined into state constitutions and federal regulations?

Or will it somehow (as if by magic) be decreed that we can move on to other fights, other debates.
That equal is equal.
That our relationships are worthy of that legal acknowledgment that comes only with "marriage"?

Hold your breath, this is going to be one of the big ones...

If one more person says, "guns don't kill people..." I'm gonna lose my mind

Six days until Christmas...
I am gifting you with this "anti-gun" rant (though no where in here does it say we should ban all guns) that I crafted to post on someone else's FB page. I am heartbroken and I am mad as hell.

 

I will concede that "people kill people" if the other side concedes that the singular purpose of guns is to extinguish life or create a credible threat that you are willing to extinguish life (Not true about cars, or alcohol, or knives or rocks or fists or even explosives).

I will NOT apologize for wanting to lock up guns before wanting to lock up every person that is or could become mentally unstable.

The youngest and most vulnerable members of our society are unable to protect themselves and/or resist the allure of the gun culture that has been allowed to flourish. 

People are addicted to guns.
People have fallen in love with guns.
People think guns, even MORE guns can fix everything.
We are not learning our lesson, and we are living through the history that we will repeat until we learn that lesson: An unchecked gun-culture results in the unacceptable slaughter of innocents - sometimes en mass, sometimes one or two at a time.

I disagree that this is impossible... "Stopping gun violence is impossible". I completely disagree.

Nothing is impossible...
Seriously.
"Impossible" is just what people say when they don't want to do the work to figure out a tough problem...
"Impossible" is the message that gun manufacturers have spent untold dollars to imprint on our collective psyche.  Whispering into the wind, while shouting from the mountain until a made-up deterrent becomes fact.
Just sit there, 
          No need to stir...
                    This is impossible.

This country undid slavery.
This country reversed the prohibition of a women's right to vote.
This country invented child labor laws, and airplanes, and landed a man on the moon.

Do you think those things seemed possible or even plausible before they happened? Do you think that was easy? No, but there was a moral imperative, a call to action, people brave enough to look like fools for a cause they believed in.

In our lifetimes, drunk driving and smoking in public has become both legally and socially unacceptable. Ask someone in the 50s or 60s or 70s if they thought there would be a socially supported, legal mandate to forbid smoking in bars?!? [And imagine...  Second hand smoke only kills people gradually over a long period of time.]

There is no rational reason for military style semi-automatic weapons to be circulating among the general population. A woman on FB yesterday was writing about how every citizen has the constitutionally protected right to possess enough firepower to overthrow the government. (Ignoring for a moment the counter-argument that starts by pointing out that every white landowner also had the constitutionally protected right to own people of a different race as pets) That is an insane postulation based on the outdated ideology of a group of rebels (our forefathers) that unyoked themselves from the largest EMPIRE of the time.

Currently, WE OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT EVERY FEW YEARS by VOTING and the fact that not a shot gets fired and no one gets murdered is one of the true reasons to get choked up with pride about being an American.

Police officers and soldiers are professionals and they get to keep and use any guns they are provided with to do their jobs. But the argument that the average citizen is safer and can protect his/her family with a gun does not hold true. People who live in homes with guns are more than 4 times more likely to be injured or killed by a gun. And it's not usually the "gun-owner" that gets hurt. But there are countless accidents.

And then there are the incidents of domestic violence that would have been bad but because there was a gun available, turned tragic. People DO die in knife fights and are killed by fists and boots and plates being thrown across the room but it is easier to limp away and survive when guns are not involved.

Also, 30 bullets in a clip??? Nope. I don't care who is holding a gun with 30 bullets. Even a "good guy" is dangerous with that kind of fire power. 30 bullets in clip that can be fired at a rate of 6 shots per second, why should any private citizen have access to that? Why do we think that is a right?!?

I have loaded and fired a single shot musket, it's like 3 shots a minute at most. And the entire time you are reloading that fast, you have to focus a bit and are vulnerable to counter attack. I think it was Thomas Jefferson who said about the Bushmaster AR-15,
"Are you people fucking crazy?!?"

We are a nation of 310,000,000 guns. But this is not irreversible or impossible to fix. I am shocked to see people say, "it can't be fixed"... It CAN be fixed. Australia was an island of convicted criminals; a nation overwrought with guns. The govt changed laws, instituted a buy-back and the results included a 40% decline in the murder rate.

We need to decide to do something and we need to FIX this. We can either make our babies bulletproof, or we can fix this.

We can either lock up anyone that is mentally ill or has the potential to crack up (And by the way... You know who I'm most worried about losing their minds right now??? Those surviving teachers, and kids and parents, and first responders from Newtown, CT... please someone make sure they don't have access to guns on some of the cold, lonely nights coming up ahead for them)

or we can FIX this...

Let hunters have their rifles for hunting. And most Americans support handgun ownership with guns that hold 6-10 bullets, but if gun advocates continue to defend ownership of indefensible amounts of firepower:
assault riffles
endless ammo
one person owning dozens of guns that can be bought through the internet with no regulation
gun shows that do not follow the regulatory rules-
I think there will really be a public outcry and backlash...
I hope there will be.

People do not have a right to have whatever they want at the expense of the safety of the general public. At the expense of the health and safety of children. You can't smoke in a TIGFridays, but you can pack heat and carry enough bullets to instantly erase 2 or 3 tables of families if you feel physically threatened?!?

We can fix this. We need to fix this... We should have fixed this already.

Groundhog Day

There are so many things that I never really thought much about until I had kids.
It's important to note, I'm one of those people that thought a lot about having kids...
I thought about how I would teach them, how I would treat them, what I would need in a co-parent to supplement my particular hangups, talents, shortcomings, and anxieties. I considered how I would handle raising different personalities and how I would balance the different needs of boys vs girls or boys AND girls. I even thought a bit about what I would do if I had a kid that had ambiguous genitalia or one that looked like a boy but felt like a girl (Thank you, Middlesex).

I thought about how I would teach them to pee standing up (having never done that myself) and how I would teach them to stand up for their beliefs without disrespecting others. I thought about how I would handle the rage inside myself the first time they were bullied or teased.

I mean, you get my point, right?

The "parenting" as a verb catches me so off guard sometimes. Watching and letting them struggle for their own good- even if right now it is only with language and putting on socks and shoes- requires attentive restraint. (Jake's particular nemesis right now: Button-fly jeans. Who at gap thought that was a good idea?!?) But sometimes, I am completely disarmed by how they flip the world around on me, they completely scramble the compass.

Can we talk about Santa?!?
An uncomplicated concept to get behind in theory. He's jolly, he's fun, he's generous, he's magical - "Kid-less Tracy" didn't give it much thought. What was there to protest?

I just didn't anticipate how hard it would be to make up the little white lies required to make that myth work. It's not that I have a problem lying to my kids, per se... I mean our relationship is based on honesty (of course)... but a lot of the stuff I say to them is not so much TRUTHFUL as it is AGE APPROPRIATE: "Soda is an 'adult beverage'," "Everyone loves vegetables!", "Mufasa's brother, Scar, is so silly". Still, the pseudo-creepy, heavy-set man in the Santa suit in the mall?!? Not that interested in plopping my toddler on his lap.

When my kids have the uncontrollable urge and desire to run up and hug Santa, I'll stand 2 feet away and allow it. But trying to convince them to partake in the pre-kids-it-didn't-seem-so-bizarre ritual ("Stop crying, there's nothing to be afraid of... Go sit on that strange man's lap so we can take a picture")?!? Sorry, I'm not playing.

I'm okay lying about the reindeer flying and speaking of magic like it's a real thing (that's called imagination). Leaving the notes to and from the big guy and the treats and cookie crumbs... I start to have some ethical dilemmas, but I see the value.

Then I have to partake in the back-story, and I start to loose interest: Mrs. Clause sitting home doing nothing but keeping his suit clean? The army of enslaved elves making millions of toys? Landing on the roof? Breaking and entering- a man sneaks into our house on the promise to leave us some goods? Wait.. WHAT?!? So this guy just wanders around our home while we sleep? How is that congruent with everything else we are trying to teach about normal social behavior?

Why can't we just update the tale? Example: Kids and parents correspond with Santa's family by email to coordinate requests from the children and advice on good behavior from Santa. The elves have been set free except the ones that were hired (union bennies and wages) by the Clauses to help coordinate money exchanges and purchases from corporate entities (toy making and product packaging has obviously been outsourced from the north pole due to increased transportation costs and an effort to be more Green.) This is such a corporate holiday, but as a parent tied to the increasingly outmoded and ridiculous Santa myth, I can't even bring in a tame lesson on the dangers of commercialization or find easy ways to explain how much harder a lot of our neighbors have to work around the holidays, b/c Santa is the only one getting street cred for upping personal productivity...

All kidding aside, it was a creative struggle in December to find pieces of the holiday story that are not complicated by half-truths and increasingly inane postulations (a deer-drawn winter sleigh when we haven't had snow since that one storm in October???). So we tried to minimize it and focus on the story of the nativity, and teach them to notice the smell of the tree and the enjoy the beauty of Christmas lights.

And then, not all of our friends celebrate and believe in Christmas or Santa. And the ones that do? Their not-so-little white lies to their kids are slightly different than ours. Our kids are like, "that's not what so-and-so said about Christmas..."

Holidays with kids can get complicated.

Last night, Jake and I are sitting on the couch:

J: Tomorrow's Ground Hog day.
Me: (not having thought about this at all) yes.
J: what is that?
Me: (stretching my mind) Um... that is a holiday where the ground hog comes out of his hole to determine if the winter will end soon or not.
J: What?
Me: um... the ground hog comes out and if he sees his shadow, he goes back in and if he doesn't, he will stay out of his hole?
J: Why?
Me: I guess he will get scared if he sees his shadow
J: no. why does he do it?
Me: um... (remembering) it's like 6 more weeks of winter if he goes back in his hole but... (I trail off knowing this is absurd)
J: why
Me: I'm not sure, baby
J: why?
Me: (i knowing I'm beat) yeah... I don't know, really... it's a very silly holiday

Parenting (more often than I would have previously believed) involves mini existential crises, sometimes 2 and 3 times a day.

As I try to explain the world to our kids, I'm forced to decide- often in a moments notice: Am I going to pass on some bullshit that no one believes but everyone repeats over and over again? Am I going to overwhelm them with a depressing amount of realism?

But cutting even deeper, once a previously unnoticed absurdity comes to my attention, how will I handle if from there??? Inside MYSELF???

Sometimes I feel like I'm just noticing things for the first time and when Jake or Milo ask "Why?" I have to shake my head like a visitor to this country or planet and say with true helpless confusion, "I really have no idea, guys... I'm sorry. I have no idea..."

"It's totally fucked up." I want to admit to them, "And I'm sorry to report I never noticed how totally fucked up it is until right this moment..."

(Head in hands) When they are older, we can just watch the Bill Murray movie together, right?

On exceeding expectations...

Jake: (As Katy is offering him a sandwich) I. DON'T. WANT. IT!!!

Katy: Try again, Jake, we don't talk like that.

Jake: (instantaneously) Um, Mama, thank you for offering that to me, but I don't really want it right now.

Me: Ten points for Griffindor!

Katy (Under her breath to me) Way to set the future bar higher for yourself, dude... It makes more sense now why he keeps getting all those stickers at school...

Seething...

I'm at the library.
Seething.
Katy sent me out of the house to write.
Tonight I had a crazy thing happen on the way home from day care.
... Some kind of bullshit...
I'm so upset, I can barely make sense of it.
I am still tachycardic and breathing heavy.
I barely understand what is going on in my body...

I picked up the boys from day care. I was in a pretty good mood. It started pouring when I was about 2 miles away from them, but no big deal. Then JB decided that he didn't want to hold his lunch bag and somewhere in between, "I don't want to hold it," and "I WANNA HOLD IT RIGHT NOW!!!" (He has some "normal" 3-year old mental block(s) when it comes to decision-making) He lost his shit.

I found myself saying, "That's not how we get things, by crying and screaming..." This is our mantra some days and Katy and I try hard to not cave in. Like, these kids have to learn that they can have whatever they want (pretty much) but not if they are screaming and shouting and crying to get it... He wanted to HOLD HIS BAG... Not a big deal, but I didn't want to let him because "screaming and crying is not a way to get what you want". But then I got a "get out of jail free card" because he wanted to "HOLD HIS BAG- THE FIRST TIME".
(That's JB speak for "I changed my mind, and even though I said no when you offered that option, I want to do it. But I don't want to do it NOW, I want to do it THEN, as in- Can you please re-wind the tape and send us back in time so I can do it 'right' the first time?!?")

No, son. I cannot.

Cue hysteria.

These little fuckers don't know anything about quantum physics or the lack of advances in time travel.

So.

Pouring rain. Driving in traffic- headed to the grocery store. JB just screaming and crying in the back seat. I pull over and try to reassure him and reason with him. I try to wait it out a bit- sometimes a change of plan like sitting in a parking lot instead of just driving on, snaps him out of it. While we pulled over, i washed his face with a pre-moistened towelette. I tried to get him to take a sip of water. I am really really frustrated, but I am actually doing the right things, not screaming, not outwardly over-reacting, trying to find some way to distract him.

I start driving again... I'm a little raw and jittery... I almost have him calm- we are at a stop light and I am flipping though iTunes on my phone trying to get the Disney play list on for little mister "losing-my-mind" in the back seat.

This guy in the right lane next to me (but diagonally in front of me) in a big red pick up is trying to say something. I don't know what he is saying, but he is animated. I roll down the window and hear "light". I'm thinking It's something about my tail light... I panic a little in reaction to how he is gesticulating, like maybe my taillight is on fire or something. Then he's like shouting at me about how I have two kids in the car and I'm on my phone....

I'm not on my phone.

He's still shouting.
My blood pressure is rising.
JB who has stopped crying is like, "Why that guy is yelling, Mommy?"

I'm about to flip out on this guy- I don't know what he is talking about, but HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HE IS TALKING ABOUT. He has no idea what has just been going on in this car, and he is giving me some "I'm-a-white man-in-a-pick-up-and-you're-a-female-driver" kind of reprimand. The light turns green. I lock eyes with him when i finally realize what is going on and curse him out to the tune of "YOU fucking ASSHOLE!!!"

Oops.
Kids in car.
I have never done that before.
I'm shaking. Trying not to cry. At wit's end. So mad I could spit. He pulls out in front of me and goes straight, even though he's in the right turn only lane. I stall the car. Restart the car. Try to stay focused through the rage. I expressly concern myself with not tailgating him or smashing into him. I am as mad as I can remember being.

Mistake #1: What kind of truck is it? Didn't notice- red, shiny, new-ish looking... that's all i know
Mistake #2: What is the plate number? Fuming... Didn't notice- there are some chains hanging near the plate.

He turns right, into the grocery store parking lot.
That is where I'm going too. I had briefly considered following him where ever he was going- to give him a piece of my unstable mind, but then discarded the notion. I take the right turn as a sign from God that I am suppose to follow this guy and tell him exactly how much or an !$#% *%^&@# he really is...

I park 4 cars away.

I leave my kids in the car and approach him. It is still pouring:
"You are some kind of !$#% &@#!!!"
I don't even know what I said, but he blew up at that point.

Me: You have no idea what was going on in that car!
Him: You ran a red light!!!

(I did not run a red light but I seriously would never say that b/c maybe i did... I have no idea what this guy is talking about. If I ran a red light, when was it? Where was it? Whoa! that's pretty scary... an Hour later I realize he is talking about the stale yellow light that I took a little liberty with when JB was freaking out)

Me: Who do you think you are?!?!?!
(I start to back up away from him, I want this conversation over)

Him: What would your husband think?!? You driving like that!!!

Pause for my brain to explode.

The world goes quiet for a minute. I see plastic bags blowing in the breeze, but hear nothing. There's an echoing whooshing sound in the distance, that i realize is the sound of air moving in and out of my lungs. Somewhere, on the other side of the parking lot, I hear a Qtip fall onto the pavement, and then sound rushes back into the world. My pulse is pounding in my neck. My mouth is dry. I am shaking.

Pause again to consider whether or not something in my brain might have actually exploded...

This guy looks to be about 40 to me (give or take 5 years.) He's got chiseled features, and looks fit. He's wearing hunting pants or army fatigues and either has 2 day's growth of stubble, on his face, or is one of those wolf-men that needs to shave twice a day. Though he gives the general impression of a redneck "fisherman", he does not give off a "psycho" vibe, just a self-congratulatory "asshole" vibe. This is not a grouchy, old man. This is not a plucky, young punk. This is the worst kind of arrogant adult male- who thinks he is in charge of personally reprimanding a total stranger in traffic. Who thinks he's somehow in the right when he decides to berate a women who is carting her two kids to the store in the middle of a rain storm after a 9 hour work day.

So, in my head I'm like, "YOU'RE going to determine some safety violation and create a situation AT A STOP LIGHT that is truly UNSAFE!?! YOU think I was the person that created an UNSAFE SITUATION back there?!? Oh, and this is the best part... YOU THINK THE BEST WAY TO "MAKE ME FEEL BAD" about something that I might have done wrong is to bring up my HUSBAND?!? The supposed man in my life that is in charge of me and makes sure I'm taking good enough care of HIS CHILDREN?!?

Oh Buddy, you are so barking up the wrong tree...

I wished I had said so many things. I wished I had just been calmer and more "ON" my game, I could have been all like:

• My husband died tragically when I threw him from the car while texting in a pizza order and running a red light.
• My husband doesn't care at all about these kids- they look too much like his brother, he encourages me to drive recklessly all the time; just hearing about how upset you are will please him very much!
• My WIFE... (If there is any karmic justice) is in a parking lot somewhere on the other side of town, doing EXACTLY what you are doing: verbally assaulting your gay lover with a barrage of loud, self-righteous, misogynistic, uninvited commentary dripping with contempt and condescension.
  

INSTEAD... I go with the truth:

Me: Yeah, I don't have a husband. I'm married to a woman.
Him: (silence)
Me: You've got a lot of nerve and no right to speak to me about this.

He's close enough for me to smell the smoke on his breath and he doesn't back down a bit. He is completely unapologetic and he suddenly shouts that he is a town police officer.
HA! (that almost sends me into orbit). I swear if this guy is a cop, i might have to move.
Also, if he's an asshole cop, he wouldn't have waited this long to bring his occupation up.
And, if he's a good cop, he wouldn't be doing this in the parking lot.
So he's either in between an asshole cop and a good cop OR, he's NOT a cop at all.

Me: You're a cop?!? Great. What's your name?

Mistake #3: He TELLS me his name (supposedly) and once I hear the name, I immediately forget it. Like, I don't have any clue... Maybe it was Mark... Maybe it was Dan... Maybe it was Janet Jackson... It could have been anything...

I don't even remember the rest of the conversation. But I know when he starts going overboard with the "hand quotes" gesturing, saying something homophobic-sounding about "your partner", I better walk away before I end up in jail.

The rest of the shopping spree is a blur
The rest of the dinner hour is a bust. I am wiped out. Scared. Feel threatened and unsafe. I get home and send the kids in the play room, and cry as I tell Katy the story. She tells me I did not do anything wrong. I seriously consider calling the Police Department in town to report the incident and to tell them that either they have a very inappropriate cop on the force, OR they have a guy IMPERSONATING a town cop... Katy advises against it (see Mistakes 1-3).

I spend the time up until now trying to figure out why this has caused such an emotional reaction from me... It is hard to put my finger on. There are a lot of things- the assholes always seem to win; justice is rarely a possibility; I feel shamed (even though any mistake I made was unintentional); I feel "in trouble"; I feel the weigh of the absolute plausibility that the people that are supposed to be "the good guys" are more than occasionally not actually all that "good"; I feel I was put in a position where my safety and the safety of my children was tampered with; My parenting and intention to keep my kids safe was called into question...

But mostly I realize, I am angry because I am very disappointed in myself.

I consider this whole scenario an epic FAIL:

1. I lost complete control of my emotions
2. I lost my sense of humor completely
3. With my sense of humor gone, my ability to come up with snappy one liners disappeared also; if you are going to lose your cool, at least win the debate...
   
4. I totally forgot to remember the important stuff - as a nurse... as a women who has always been taught how to stay safe and how to report breaches of this safety, I don't remember what he looked like, what his name was, his license plate#, etc, his height, hair or eye color... I"m not sure if i would recognize him if I saw him...
   
5. I forgot the number one rule about being a woman: No matter how much of an asshole another person is being (especially another man), you should just walk away/ turn the other cheek. You should assume he's armed and dangerous; Even going up to this guy in the parking lot was "my mistake". If you are a woman and a man, a stranger, is acting like he owns you (or has a right to berate you), your job is to just quietly let it go, be non-confrontational, and let him go on believing he does
   
6. I was unable to disprove #5
7. This blew my day apart
8. I'm sure this wasn't even a blip on his discomfort radar; his sense of entitlement and certainty in the notion that he was right is just too high.
   

I am seething still. I am actively working on letting it go...

But the audacity and hubris of this guy. The general lack of compassion and the blatant aggression. The pretend concern for my offspring when really you are putting them in danger...
These are just a lot of really sensitive buttons to push on a Tuesday...

Spring has sprung...

Today we walk out of the house and JB notices there are daffodils in full bloom at the end of the driveway. "LOOK!" He shouts, "There are flowers now."

These have been growing for a few days/weeks, but he apparently just noticed them and felt they had sprung up overnight. We walk (ML waddles) down toward the mailbox and I'm talking about spring-

Mommy: These flowers are called daffodils... They are the first sign of spring. When the winter is over, and the plants and grass get enough rain, everything starts to turn green again and flowers start to bloom, that is called spring.

JB: (nodding, starts to take over the teacher role) Yes, it is spring because there is no more snow, and the flowers are growing... Smell the flowers, ML

ML: (bends over the 3 inches it takes to shove his nose near the flowers and sniffs obligingly)

JB: They are real nice, mom... (then he starts muttering to no one in particular) I don't see any pollen... I don't knew, maybe the bees took it out already... nope, none in there either... there should be pollen... hmmm...

Bahahahahhahahhahahahhah...

He just went on and on reviewing everything he knows about pollination and flowers and bees! I might have found it less amusing except I know I haven't taught him about this, so the explanations came as if from a book they read to him at school.

I don't know WTF he thinks pollen looks like, but apparently he knows it when he sees it (or when he doesn't)... I'm not sure there is anything funnier than a tiny mammal muttering so matter-of-factly about science and biology

Come out, come out, wherever you are... Part 2

On St. Patrick's day this year, I was in Texas.

I've talked about how the political climate struck me as a tad bit suffocating in Part 1.

I was having a good time and it is quite lovely on the San Antonio river.

Missing my boys and my sweetie, I still wasn't going to ignore the fact that it was ST. PATRICK'S DAY. And on most years that goes by fairly UN-celebrated by me (due to familial and work obligations, not because I don't want to get all sloppy on green beer and Irish car bombs.)

There was that one time when my sister and I took the day off to spend it in a bar in South-ie...

and we drank all day until everyone in that place seemed like a pal...

But usually it's a toss up: "sleep... Green beer? Sleep... drunk girls in a too crowded bar, spilling green beer everywhere?? Sleep... spending too much money on bad Irish food and over priced car bombs???"

I know... I'm lame. I usually chose the sleep. Especially since the kids were born and wrecked my ability to sleep off green beer.

Anyway, this year, I was away from home, getting plenty of sleep, only responsible for myself. I had intended to round up some nurses or others from the conference to go rouse a little rabble.

It didn't work out. The 2nd day of the conference ended weird with some opting to go visit a site and others rushing away early and I was somewhere in between, ending for the day far too early for dinner. I went back to my room. Had an ichat with my family and then decided to head out on my own.

Going out to a bar on your own is strange, especially when you don't have any sexual favors to barter with or center banter around. It's not my game, but I think I understand why there are those people that travel a lot for work who make up an alias... It can only get you into trouble, but it's just so that you can go out and "hunt" for a dining companion, right? Anyway... I found a bar Durty Nelly's

This place was all set for the night; the piano-man was in the center of it all, singing ditties and limericks and keeping everyone entertained:

I found a seat about 12 feet from the piano, up against one of those boxed-in support poles. There was a small (14") table to my right and one empty chair besides mine. I was there for about 30 minutes when I started to get restless and feel awkward about being alone. I wasn't really in the mood to be so outgoing as to make new friends, and I for sure wasn't interested in giving up my seat to go make screaming small-talk (over the sound of the music) with strangers.

I sat for about 10 more minutes, my blood feeling like mercury rising as it measured my increased discomfort. Then in walked two couples looking for seating. They seemed disoriented like when you step from the sunlight into a darkened room and can't quite find your bearings. After I watched them twirl around a few times scouting for unavailable seats, I motioned that they might want to pull some chairs around the small table next to me.

Shuffling.
Confusion...
I got up and quickly corralled 2 extra chairs, pointing to a 3rd in a far off corner. They were happy and silly and it calmed me. We introduced ourselves and ordered up a few more drinks. The "Hi"s and "Where are you from?"s and "What brings you to San Antonio?"s lasted 10-20 mins. They had a few stories of this long trip they had taken to the western edge of Texas, and being social with them was as easy as stirring up a pitcher of iced tea in the summer.

We weren't too far into it when Mary asked about my kids (I showed pictures) and if they were okay with their mom so far from home...

I paused. I admit it, it is not how I roll usually- hesitating to bring up my wife- but this Texas place is strange. People down there seem to have a special way of not expecting the obvious (or what might be obvious to me...)

I smiled. Giving her the most reassuring and genuinely friendly vibe I could muster:

"Well, they have two moms, so they are doing okay..."

"What's that?!?" Mary asked blinking.

"I'm married to a woman, and our boys have two moms, so they are in very good hands when I'm away."

Two blue eyes stop blinking and fly open - wide as saucers.
SRSLY.
She literally brings her hand to cover her mouth which is now gaping open.

I can't even formulate the mental "oops" because her reaction is so extreme, so cartoonish that I am actually giggling.

I wait. There's not much more for me to say, so I let her get a grip of herself and recover from the (apparent) shock.

The other members of her group are not really aware of what is going on... They are eating peanuts, looking around... the music is loud and they have missed the meat of our conversation. I don't think they have noticed her surprised expression.

She lets her hand fall to her lap and her mouth is still open when she forms the words, pausing dramatically between each one. Searching carefully for each syllable, it's as if she is inventing language from scratch. She leans towards me.

"Are..."

It is too loud in here for a whisper to be audible. Though she is shouting, her eyes focus and her posture grows conspiratory in nature.

"You..."

She glances left and then right.

"A..."

I can barely handle it. Is this for real? Is she going to have a stroke???

She squeals the final word: "Democrat?!?"

I about lose my shit. I expected LESBIAN not DEMOCRAT. I nod enthusiastically as I laugh and smile hard at her. (Unlike being gay, being a Democrat is NOT illegal in any state.) But I am wondering, will this be the thing that prompts her to overturn the tiny table between us??? I just can't figure out what is going on... What is about to happen?!?

"Yes," I tell her again as she continues to stare at me blankly.

Then it explodes:
"I AM A DEMOCRAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
(yes, that many exclamation points)

And a round of hoots and howls and giggles.
She is speaking wildly now- dozens of words a second- it is even more cartoonish than before- Now I freaking love her!!! And yet I'm struck with instant empathy. Here is a woman, deep in the heart of TEXAS, who is so isolated in her liberal politics that an Irish (1/4 Irish-mutt) lesbian from the North-East who shows up at a bar on St. Patrick's day is her best shot of MAYBE...

NOT DEFINITELY... BUT MAYBE...

Meeting a fellow Democrat.

You know what this means, right??? In Texas (And Mary has lived there all her life and presumably been out there looking for others) you more likely to run across an OUT homosexual than an OUT democrat...

I don't believe they aren't there, it's just that they have to hide in the closet!!!

Holy shit.

I about pee'd my pants at that bar... The night didn't end until we had shared a few too many drinks and Mary dialed up her 18 (? I forget his exact age) year old son for me to have a chat with via cell phone. (I have no idea what that was about either, but he was just as sweet as he could be and didn't seem the least bit surprised- It clearly happens to him all the time.)

Though none of her other companions indicated to me that they were also democrats, they seemed pleased as punch that Mary had located another one of us in this quaint section of the world.

I say again, "Holy shit." Can you imagine if I hadn't come out to this poor lady??? She would have spent the entire night assuming I voted for George W. Bush and sent money to Sarah Palin's PAC on a monthly basis?!?

You have no idea how profoundly this effected me. Let's just say, there are people all over the world, that need to know they are not in this alone!

;)

Armed gunmen

I'm on the plane, coming home from CA.

Last night I told myself I wouldn't write about this on the blog for a lot of reasons that I will expand on below, but today- I realize I have to... Because that is what my heart wants and what my brain needs; and this space is at least a little to give my heart and brain a tiny bit more of what they want.

Yesterday afternoon, I got a text from my sister: “Did you talk to mom today?”

Pretty benign, right? But I knew immediately that something had happened.

Quickly, quickly- as my stomach was dropping- I considered some possibilities: a diagnosis for someone close? My grandmother didn't wake up? An accident?

Web (text): She's okay

Me (text): What happened?

Web (text): She walked in on a bank robbery

Ugggh... texting ends and I call her cell phone.

So, my mom doesn't like to put a lot of things out there. And my blog is probably not how she wants a lot of people to find out about this surreal, scary, personal thing that happened to her. But that's what it is to have kids – they are always taking your stuff and misusing it...

Mom went into the bank and whistles and bells went off in her head when she didn't see any line of customers or any bank tellers at the counter. In the few seconds it took for that neurological signal to translate into a thought, she saw a gun man, heard a shot, smelled some gun powder, heard some shouting, and left.

She left the bank... running... after a shot was fired... from a handgun...

She said, she didn't know what was going on. She said she thinks her brain couldn't process the foreign inputs and stimulus. She just ran out the door...

Holy shit.

I want to laugh. I want to cry. I don't know how to explain what I am even feeling about this, let alone what she must be going through. I mean, it seems like the man (there were two of them, but she only saw one) didn't even know she had walked in to the bank. Her instincts must have told her that they hadn't seen her yet, because she wouldn't have run out if she thought that would have put her in more danger. Right?!? The BALLS on this woman!!! To just know to get the hell out of there...

Once a patient told me: “It's okay to be liberal when you are young, because you're optimistic and have a forgiving heart... but as you grow older, only a fool doesn't grow more conservative.” At the time, I wasn't sure what brought that tid-bit of advice out of him, but I knew what he meant: I'm a person that believes in rehabilitative punishment, believes that a majority of violent crimes are committed by mentally ill or extra-ordinarily desperate individuals; that poverty, racism, class-ism, and decreased educational opportunities contribute to imbalances in wealth and power that make circumstances ripe for us to dehumanize and commit crimes against each other. It's not that I empathize with criminals, or excuse crimes, I tend to want to see individual events and experiences, though, and I tend to NOT want to generalize the intentions of others...

All these years, I never forgot what that patient said and knew he was probably right. I've sort of been watching myself to see when and if it would happen – me growing more conservative in my attitudes. I'm gay and anyone that reads this blog knows where I fall on the political spectrum, but the thing is, I'm definitely shifting when it comes to crime.

I guess I'm just getting kind of sick of assholes flashing and firing guns to scare people. To scare and threaten people I love... or worse...

Who do these people think they are?!? It isn't enough what happened to our friends in their own home 3 years ago??? It isn't enough that we were just starting to relax in our homes after dark???

A moment should be taken to thank God and the Fates and Furies and Winds that this blog post ends up being a meandering, insignificant “blah, blah, blah,” instead of a horrifying recounting of a violent crime. Because I can't bear to even consider what could have happened, I'll focus instead on admiring and praising my mom for rocking out in every crisis scenario I've ever seen her face.

Steady we go. Trying to keep each other safe, pretending that we control our destinies, clinging to those we love, trying not to be afraid of the dark. Or in this case, the broad light of day.

I love you, Mama- I think you are very wonderful and brave!

Coming home tonight

Almost a week since my last post, but a lot has been happening...

I've been away.

I came home from Texas last Friday night (3/18). Spent Sat with the family: did some running around, playing with the kids, grocery shopping, etc. Went to a baby shower for my cousin's wife, spent a few hours with my CT cousin-friends (That's a word I just made up... It's like "sister-wife" in Mormon country, and is used to describe people that you are related to by birth, but more and more as you grow older, they are your friends. While we're here, I think I'll also coin the flip side: "friend-cousins": These are people like the Tabors/Menzies/Priors and the Vuolos... people who fate has so kindly intertwined your families' lives that you are friends with them, but you think of them as cousins...)

Then Katy's parents arrived (Granny and Granna) and we had dinner and I got to the business of packing a fresh suitcase, and bathing, smelling, and snuggling my kids enough to carry me though this week that I have also been away. Katy and I woke up at 3:30 in the AM (last Saturday) to get me to the airport for my 6am flight to Sunny and Warm LA county. The trip with layovers and waiting times on the tarmac to "replace computers on the plane", and flying around in circles to avoid weather patterns, and the harrowing shuttle journey to the hotel took over 15 hours.

It has been neither warm, nor particularly sunny.

But, I have been working my tail off (so to speak).

Only as this week has wound down (Thursday night, Friday, and now) have I truly started to feel the weight of my- not "homesickness" exactly- but yearning to have my babies near me. I think I just compartmentalized it fairly well at the beginning. Also, I knew that (between Katy and my in-laws) the boys were not only in good hands, but they would be distracted and having fun in my absence.

Still, attending these two conferences back to back, I have been away from my family for 11 out of the last 12 days. Even Katy and I have not spent this much time apart since we started dating.
And it has been weird to miss a week that my in-laws took to spend with our family. I've been wondering what I have missed in terms of "bonding opportunities" with them, and while I was out here in CA, my God-daughter and sweet Mac-a-doodle turned 5 years old!!! So, I felt a little sad that night that we weren't all together celebrating.

I've done my best to put the time to good use. I've met a lot of interesting and fun people. I've networked and bonded. I've gotten to spend this last week rooming with (and joking and laughing and theorizing and scheming with) Tara. Tara has been a BFF of ours since Katy's and my grad school days. This week only confirmed why: she is good people. She is real and full of brain and heart power, and loyal and honorable, and not only hilarious- but appreciates (and plays off of) my particular brand of wit. She is funny, without being trivial, and carefully measures the weight of her words and actions like only a soul-sister of mine could.

It is absurd that we ended up here this week together, and I can't help but thank God (The Tiny Baby Jesus, or whatever older version of him you prefer) for the way this trip took T and I out of our other lives and put us here, together for a week.

I also tried to use the time well- to appreciate the things a mom of small children loses out on: Sleep, "Quiet time", complex and extended adult conversation, "me time", I've done some list making and sorting through of things in my head, a kind of spring cleaning of my brain. I've also hit the gym whenever possible and done some sweating- and yesterday got myself onto some of the beaches of Malibu for a little hike.

At the end of this, I am eager to get home. But I think I am going back a little bit of a healthier person. Maybe more focused, more grateful for what I have, more (possibly?) full of energy (though taking a red-eye tonight might put a damper on that).

I can't wait to see my sweetie and our kids!

1148 days

3 years and 2 months...

In our lives, since that day:
- one house sold
- one house purchased
- 3 anniversaries
- two children born
- three family surgeries- 1 c-section, 1 tonsillectomy, 2 sets of ear tubes
- Stitches put in all of us except the little one who needed a head CT, MRI, several lumbar punctures, and a whole bunch of other nonsense.

1148 days and nights of life and love and laughter, stress and grief, hunger and fullness, exhaustion and rest...
Countless conversations...
Weddings and vacations...
Drinking and dancing...
Playing, tickling, swimming, and nights at the pool...
Breast feeding, potty training, falling down and getting back up...
Tears of sadness and of happiness...
Many injuries have healed and scars formed,
but still, there is one big, unresolved, sucking wound...

We try to stay back from this. We try to have faith, have hope, and not get caught up in the fear and sadness that a tragedy like this leaves behind. We pray- for peace, for justice, for the man that survives- the man that exists but does not really exist, since that day...

There are things that can never be explained, repaired, or forgiven...
We are not vengeful people, but there are things for which vengeance was invented...
Senseless things for which there is no satisfactory atonement, nor any appropriate emotional response...

The next few weeks should be filled with joy: There are many things to celebrate in September. But our emotions will be layered, textured, and likely raw in the coming month...

The first trial is scheduled to start tomorrow.

Go to bed, already.

Tomorrow, we will try to spend the day demonstrating pleasantness in the midst of our anxiety and discomfort.

Tomorrow, we will try to remember the spirit of women who were pretty damn good role models even before the mantle of sainthood was placed on their memories.

Tomorrow, we will let our bodies and minds fight it out... Our minds want to be in charge of our emotions, but grief and anger have a way of marking you physically. And "the body" sometimes has a more accurate memory than even "the memory".

Tomorrow, we will cherish our children.
(A little more than we do every other day.)
Tomorrow, we will try to be gentle with each other.
Tomorrow, we will try to be generous and a little more patient than we usually need to be in our interactions with others...

But TONIGHT, before I go to bed, I'm going to check every window and every door (like Katy made me promise to do) to be sure they are locked. And I'm going to say a silent, but heartfelt "fuck you" to the psychotic criminals who killed our friends 3 years ago...

Then I'm going to wash the destructive anger off my face, and brush the bile off of my teeth, and try to shake the gnawing anxiety from my core. And THEN, I'm going to hold my wife close- hoping that my love and concern can keep bad dreams at bay- and trying to convey to her through my actions that no matter what, I'm here with her and I love her... and I'm sorry for the losses she has endured.

------------
Our church benediction:

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
Amen.

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!

Sign of the Times: Current Events

There has been some crazy shit going on in the world in these last 2 weeks...
The news cycles are just jam-packed full.

What's going on in Britain?!?
The Prime Minister of Britain, Gordon Brown, resigned today. I can't figure out why. His party has lost a lot of seats in the Parliament, and he announced plans to step down, but then literally the next day, he stepped down

SCOTUS Nomineee
Over the weekend, President Obama named Elena Kegan as his 2nd supreme court nominee...
Is she gay or not? It seems like "people in the know" know that she is. Now her "Friends" have come out to say, "She isn't"... I don't know if that's true or not, but a closeted lesbian scares me a little politically. The people that hate me and my people don't want her on the bench b/c they think if she's (secretly) gay, then she will rule for her own rights should a case come up. But I think if she is secretly gay, there's a bigger chance she will rule against "her" own rights (Which of course are also MY rights.)

Oil Spill
Last week, a big oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico caught fire and sank, leaving 3 holes in the pipe that is broken but still connected to the oil well.

This is underwater video of oil pouring out of the biggest of the 3 leaks:



Something like 500,000 barrels of oil a day are leaking out into the Gulf of Mexico.
Let that sink in for a moment. When this first happened (April 20th) I was like, "O.M.G, how awful!" But now I'm a little more like
o.
m.
g...

I mean this is really, really tragic. This will have effects on the environment and the world for generations. The oil has reached the Gulf coast (bu-bye yummy shrimp) and is likely to head up the Atlantic coast too (goodbye crabs and fish and lobsters), not to mention the bird and the people... It is just incomprehensible.
Drill, Baby, Drill...

indeed.

Immigration Racism

Also on the WTF end of the spectrum, Last week, the state of Arizona passed the anti-immigration "Papers, please" law. I haven't read the law, but I understand it requires law enforcement officials to stop anyone that looks as if they could maybe be an illegal immigrant... And the law requires anyone that might possibly look like they might not be white to have to carry around proof of citizenship...
Don't leave home without your papers, please...


Asshats.

A new day

Last night when I put JB to bed, I had a conversation with him that would have made my Grandpa Weber shit his pants. (My grandpa wasn't so much into the New Age way of communicating with children as he was into the if you must communicate, do it with a belt way of thinking...)

But I was literally out of ideas related to JB and I decided that what he needed more than anything else was, information...

I talked to him about why today was so bad for him. I talked to him about basic psychology... I told him that one of the reasons he is having a hard time is because of the change to a new school; and he doesn't know it, but changes are hard and this school change is one of the hardest he might have in a long time. And it is difficult and confusing to have fun at the new school but at the same time miss the old school... But that is all okay and normal.

I know what you are thinking: "T, he's 2, not 12..." but hang in there with me... I did feel like a crazy person talking to a 2 year old like he was a teenager, but it occurred to me that he understands a lot more than he has the vocabulary to query us about and "senses" a lot more than he has the coping skills to contend with. And we have a LOT of information that we are not sharing with him, including but not limited to our understanding of the world, info about stress and change management; psychology, reverse psychology, coping mechanisms, planning, scheduling, communication strategies, long term benefits vs short term gains, basic principles of economics as they relate to pyscho-social interactions such as lost-opportunity-cost, etc.

Though i didn't get into all of those things, he listened to me ramble about his day for at least 5 minutes during which time I reviewed tomorrow's planned schedule, emphasizing that tomorrow will be different and better. I told him what tomorrow morning would be like. I laid out the schedule and plan in as much simplified detail as I could: wake up, go potty, cuddle for a few minutes, get dressed, go have breakfast - waffles, etc. When I was done with the list of how tomorrow would go, I repeated it- TWICE.

It was a crazy thing to do, but (as I said above) I started to think the kid really would be reassured by more information than we've been giving him.

Katy will probably hit me with a large heavy object when she reads this b/c this is the type of conversation she is always hounding me to have with her: "Can we make a plan for the week? Can we make a plan for the morning? for the weekend?"

I'm not that great with planning, but it seems that this really helps humans function better. Hmmph. Go figure...

Perhaps it is the biggest coincidence of all time, but today was a completely different day with JB. Not one screaming fit. Nothing more than a modicum of whining this morning. Some of you might be jumping to the logical conclusion that we have an awesome kid- wise beyond his years, amazingly well-adjusted, and sophisticated in his ability to adapt. While I agree with this assessment, I also walk away from this experience bolstered by another thought:

I am awesome.

Sometimes things work out so much like how you wished that they would, that you can't help but take the credit!!!

:)

Baby's breath

ML,

I want to write this...
before it changes.
Before you start eating
more types of foods...
Before you start cutting teeth...
Before you fulfill your carnivorous destiny...
Before some enzymes in your digestive track mature...

It's a little weird to admit this, but
I love your breath...

It's amazing!

I wanna stick my nose inside your mouth and breathe deeply.
I'd like to bottle the scent and sniff it again and again
whenever I need a little fix
for years...

I don't know what it is...
The smells of rice and cream,
and
fresh butter...
on warm rolls...
and
innocence...
and
water...
after you've been sweating...
and
recently cut grass floating on a dry summer breeze...
and
new tennis balls...

O.
M.
G.

It's indescribably yummy!
I don't ever want it to change.

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.