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!

;)

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!

Come out, come out, wherever you are... Part 1

When you come from and live in New England, places like Texas are not easy to understand.

This is a BIG-BOTTOMED GIRL of a state. ("As big as Europe," I was told.) While I'm intelligent enough to know that there is diversity of thought and opinion in every region, my personal experiences lead me to generalize things about the average Texan... S/He:

• Owns at least 3 shirts fashioned from or adorned with the American flag
• Would fist fight you over the statement, "All Americans were once immigrants."
• Thinks our president should be in jail (for some as yet undefined "crime")
• Has more friends that are convicted felons than friends that are Democrats

Not to say they aren't good people, I just think most Texans see things different than I do.

So far on this trip to Texas, I've come across a rash of folks who are afraid to say things that most of the people I hang with consider "facts". At this health care conference, for example, several people (including a few industry leaders) slowly and cautiously indicated to me that they (stutter, stammer) "Supported..." (swallow, deep cleansing breath) "health care reform" (pause with squinted eyes to see if my head was going to explode.) This tip-toeing around progressive politics is much more foreign to me than the accent or the climate.

It is uncomfortable- like being in the home of a woman who apologizes too much when she's serving you a delicious meal because she is used to the barrage of complaints that usually come from her husband.

On day one of the conference, I gave someone a reassuring, "Me too!" (about the “support health care reform” thing) But by day three I responded this way:

"I don't care what they say about Newton, I'm not embarrassed to say I “support” that gravity theory of his."

The Texan nurse on the receiving end of my sarcasm looked at me quizzically and then giggled like we were co-conspirators at a toilet-papering event on Mischief Night.

Nothing like watching a bunch of liberals coming out of the closet about their causes.

Still, I understand, because while here, I've found myself experiencing something I haven't in a long time: Hesitation to reveal my sexual orientation. When you first come out of the closet, the decision of how or when or IF to come out is a major aspect of every new conversation (though the person you are conversing with might never know you are doing all this debating and sweating in your mind.) In CT, MA, and 3 other states there is full marriage equality. When I meet new people, and they ask about my family or they bring up their spouse, I say, “my wife... our sons...” we all move on to the next thing.

This is a huge change in the last 6 to 7 years... It is a change in the world, but not a change in Katy's and my behavior, necessarily. She was the same when I met her over 11 years ago- comfortable in her own skin, unapologetic, not needing to soft-shoe around her identity or our budding relationship. This is one of the things that attracted me to her. Both of us agreeing on how we would communicate (who we are and exactly how we are related to each other) to the world. Meeting her and agreeing on this "code of communication" is how I got to live the life I wanted to live.

People who think the gay population should stay in the closet have a warped perception of what coming out entails... Coming out as heterosexual, for example, happens anytime you reference a “wife,” “husband,” boyfriend, girlfriend, your wedding, anniversary, your children, your grandchildren, your pregnancy...

Here's my personal code:

• I am not ashamed of who I am or who I love

• I am a little ashamed that it took me realizing I was gay to realize just how freaking homophobic the world is

• I don't believe for one second that God is ashamed of me either

• If your version of “God” has a problem with me, all you need to know is that my version of “God” doesn't – end of story

• I don't need to tell you about my wife and kids, but probably a lot of the time, I want to... They are awesome, after all!

• If the conversation turns towards families, and I have to hear about yours, you're sure as hell going to hear about mine

• I come out to people because it is the one sure-fucking-fire way to find other gay people

• I will not behave in a way that makes a closeted person in a crowd feel there is not an ally present for him/her, if that makes me “too open” tough shit.

• If some usually-silent alarm goes off inside my head that makes me want to hide my sexual orientation, I try to quickly determine why... (Am I in personal danger somehow?) If it is to protect your feelings or your bad politics, or to let you defame God's good name right in front of me... I pretty much come out, or at a minimum, walk right away from you.
  

• I will not be UNcomfortable so that you can be more comfortable... If my brain is spinning, “Should I say something? Should I say something? When should I say something?” That is a red flag for me that it is time to say something

• I will give you the benefit of the doubt

• I will not be rude, or aggressive, try to put blame on you, or not be generous with you...

• In the moment, I try not to judge you for your ignorance. I try to educate you. This may sound arrogant, “Why am I 'teaching' you after all???” But if you are not gay and you are talking to a gay person about gay issues, you should probably do more listening than talking. It is just a sound guiding principle.

• If you are going to keep saying ignorant things to my face, you are going to get the debate of your life (that may include some elevated vocal volume)

• I try to ask myself: WTFWJD?

When Katy and I went to Las Vegas about 5 years ago, we were at the gate of an airline waiting to board. Katy had a hat on and was playing a video game on her phone. I struck up a conversation with the 50-60 year old dude next to me who was from Texas and was in LV for some type of shooting competition – I know, right?1? So stereotypical, huh?!? I wish he wasn't pushing his lifestyle choices on me!!!

Anyway, I know a little about guns and so I kept asking him questions about ammo and qualifications, scoring, types of weapons used (not necessarily in that order.) It was very pleasant, I learned quite a bit and then he started asking me questions- what were we doing in Vegas, where was I from, etc. Katy looked up from under the visor of her baseball cap and said, “Can you give me some money? I'm going to get a drink.” Lord knows that was probably the only time I've ever been the money holder on a trip together, but it was enough for the dude to finally understand how we were related.

“Is that your daughter?” he asked without any hint of apology.

I almost choked on the wad of dip I had tucked into my cheek while chatting the dude up (What?!? it was before you could Facebook friend someone!?!) and said, “Um no... that's my wife.”

DUH... WINNING

This guy got all red in the face and before I realized that I should have “protected his delicate sensibilities” by staying in the closet and NOT throwing my “lifestyle choices” up towards his redNECK, he attempted a lecture that began and ended with: “I do not believe in that... that is not something that I-I-I-I am not going to... because I do not believe in...”

Quietly, I cut him off: “I don't care what you believe in...”

I said it in the neutral but friendly tone of a waitress who is really saying, “It doesn't matter to me if you'll be dining alone” when she asks, “Are you waiting for anyone else to join you?”

He stared at me, trying to figure out what to say next- I guess he was used to telling others that he “didn't believe in the gays” but perhaps he wasn't used to actually talking to one, or one that talked back.

All at once, I wanted to reach over and gently lift his chin, so that his mouth wasn't hanging open in that embarrassing way. Instead, I raised my eyebrows and gave him that “Don't get mad at me, that's just the way life is” shrug that I inherited from my dad. I told the dude:

“You asked who she was, and that's who she is... It doesn't matter what you believe in.”

I might have been more openly hostile, but honestly, I was so thrown off by the postulation that I was old enough to be Katy's parent. I was like, “DUDE... How bad do I look?!?” It was this reaction that I was making a conscious effort to censor. I have to say, I was very nonchalant in my delivery. I wanted him to feel and believe my apathy. Hidden behind my yawn-worthy response there was of course something simmering. Something like:

I don't give a corn-fed-turkey shit if you approve or me or not!?! I am real. (Pause. Pause.) You and your beliefs are immaterial in this matter... You don't even get a vote!!!

But I held that in and just stared at him... Poor, big dinosaur about to go extinct and no one's even had the courage to tell him...

We weren't staring each other down exactly, but I was definitely looking at him to see if this was over or if he had more to say. And for his part, I guess, he might have been waiting to see if I was going to take this further too. And finally, he said, “Well.” And I said “Mmm” and we ended the eye contact before it caused one of both animals to bare our teeth.

After a few silent moments next to each other, Katy came bounding back with a soft drink, and I grudgingly noted how much she looked like a middle-schooler all bouncy, and casual, and what-not. Then a few minutes later the dude -blinked- piping up with some small talk about the weather forecast.

Score one for the bitches.

The first thing is, all these years later, I can't believe the audacity of that guy..

But then too, I also am still kind of proud of the balls on me ;)

I learned an important lesson that day. When coming out to strangers- the worst case scenario is actually kind of fun!

PART TWO - St Patrick's day 2011

The great state of Texas

I'm on a trip to San Antonio to attend a work-related conference.

I like to get out into the world and see things and people. It's especially fun to do it in such a way that "sightseeing" is secondary to the "J-O-B" that is funding the trip. There is not a lot of pressure to see or DO IT ALL on these types of trips; doing or seeing a few small things will suffice.

And even though it is strange to be "alone" in an unfamiliar place, the voyeur in me relishes the people-watching opportunities the circumstance provides. It would be truly creepy to do this at home, but on this trip I got to shut my mouth and just watch people, without judgment, without agenda.

When I landed in Texas on Tuesday at around 4pm, I got my ass to the taxi stand, checked into the hotel, changed my clothes and "raced" on foot to the Alamo. I stopped at this place:

It was full of collectibles for adults:


And some for small children:



Also, there were a few stuffed animals:




Then I arrived at the Alamo, I was excited, about to check this off the "list of things to do in San Antonio if you are able". I snapped a photo:



When I stepped inside, I was staring in my own personal Chevy Chase/ National Lampoon's vacation movie. The park ranger announced less than 40 seconds after my arrival, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Alamo is now closed... Please make your way to the exit." The timing of it made me lol.

Grateful

In the last couple of days, We've received word of a lot of sad news.
Several deaths of people peripherally connected to us:
The father of a friend from high school.
My boss's nephew.
My cousins' other grandmother.
The former associate pastor of our church.
Katy's dad's boss.

It's like every time the phone rings there's another death notice to check out. Yuck.

Also, Katy's uncle had a stroke which scared all of us and significantly effected his speech.

Still, the last few days have felt really peaceful for me.

Our beach vacation last week was a lot of work (4 kids under five years old, and three days as a "single parent"- though not really b/c I had a lot of grandparents and TT/Uncle Bill back up).

Let's just say a 'day at the beach' is not the "Day at the beach" it used to be at this point in our lives. BUT, To me, it was quite perfect*... The beach, the sand, the salt air, the sounds and smells of the shore, the suntan lotion, the walking and lugging gear, the outdoor showers, the commune-style living, the good food, the Bananagrams... Something in me is "patched up"; something I must have inadvertently torn over the last year, something I didn't notice was missing until I got a taste of it again. (sigh) My heart feels safe and content- all wrapped in a big warm beach towel with its hair drip-drying in the salty breeze, and its toes exploring the sand- still now, days later.

Sunday, it rained all day. Quiet, steady, awesome rain. And yesterday, there were some amazing chilly winds for the first time in months (not exaggerating). I've decided that 2 stormy, cloudy days are the perfect way to experience "home" after a week on the beach. It promotes naps and laundry and meal prep and strategic plotting of the coming work week.

JB, after spending a few days exhibiting unprecedented defiance, has relocated many aspects of his gentle self. Today in the car on the way to drop off, he said so many adorable things, I didn't even tax myself trying to remember all of them. ML has continued his beach-learned habit of 3 hour afternoon naps.

Tonight I got a facial and pedicure. It was pretty luxurious and self-indulgent for a Tuesday. When I finally got home, a "ready for bed" JB smiled and sniffed at me, "You smell so good, Mommy."

If gratitude were melted butter, I'd be that first forkful of lobster that gets dunked and swirled around and dunked again before held up, dripping to someone's eager lips .

*Thanks Mom and Dad

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

Sent from my iPhone

A sampling of some conversations we've had with our kid in the last 24 hours

AM Conversation

Katy: (noticing the dripping snot on jB's upper lip) Do you have to wipe your nose? Do you need a tissue?
JB: No.
Katy: (staring)
JB: (brings tongue onto upper lip until he tastes nose mucus)
Yes i do.


Overheard in our kitchen - part ONE

JB: (chanting) Keep ML's hood on. Keep ML's hood on. Keep ML's hood on...
Katy: Someone start a Facebook page.


Overheard in our kitchen - part TWO

JB: (to katy) We went in the store and there was a bat full of gum.
Katy: What?
JB: There was gum in the bat.
Katy: There was gum where?
JB: In a bat.
Katy: In a bat?
JB: Yes there was. In the store... gum inside a bat.
Tracy: (from the other room): This is true, there was a plastic baseball bat that was full of bubble gum... It was beyond explanation...
Katy: (laughing) Mommy is corroborating your story.
JB: Yeah.

Conversations in Stop and Shop

Cashier: Are you about 2 years old?
JB: (not understanding the question) No...
Mommy: (translating for him) How old are you?
JB: (to the cashier, holding up the right number of fingers) Two.
Cashier: Wow. And are you... (she paused I think to decide if she would say "day care" or "school')... Are you going to... (she stammered a little again)
JB: (finishing the thought he assumed she was making) ... Josh's wedding...

This is also true... We've been prepping him for our trip to his uncle's wedding and graduation in a few weeks... but it was quite a non sequitur in the grocery store line yesterday.

Back from Vacation and ready for some full time nesting

For those of you not friends with us on FB, a lot has happened that you've missed. (Sorry, you know that GSO readers are my real true friends, right?)

Since I got my iphone (let's call her Lil'cutie) I've been able to check all my Internet haunts regularly and my email, but I can't blog from there without buying a $10 app that I'm not sure is fully functional yet. So the blog has suffered a little since Lil'cutie started living in my pocket.

The day before vacation (July 9th), I got a stomach bug, we sold our house, we packed for our trip, we saw 4 houses as potential new homes, and we fled the state to hit the beach.

Two days later, I had a minor sunburn, the inspection was conducted, we all got re-oriented to salt air and sand, Katy and I spent more than a few moments panicking about the "mess" we had gotten ourselves into. It wasn't just that we sold the house at a slight loss (I mean the economy is in the toilet and presumably we will make it up on the other end). It was that we had never fully comprehended the costs on the selling end and also now we would be moving once (IF NOT TWICE) in the 4-8 weeds surrounding the birth of our 2nd child.

We rationalized our way out of the mental anguish, made several financial and logistical contingency plans, plotted alternatives to all of those, figured out how we would make it work at every level, and just when excitement started creeping around the corner, the buyer rescinded his offer. RollerccccccccccoooooOOOOOOOSSSSTTTTTERRRRRRRRRRRR!
CLICK.CLICK.CLICK. WHEEEEeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEE

There was a tiny bit of anger or rather frustration. Thank God we were away, b/c if not I would have had at least 3 rooms in my house packed and stacked in boxes and probably a 1/2 full POD in my driveway. Then instead of being disappointed and disjointed, I would have had to go out and find that guy and it would'a been a mess. I don't mind an amusement ride, but that would have pushed me over the edge.

While we were away, we had perfect weather, got some tans, and I got a concussion. Falling out of the back of my sister's minivan was not my most proud moment. We (adults) were taking turns climbing out of the way-back because 3 car seats were taking up the entire second row and obstructing the fire exits. It was very adorable to see all the "Ruggies" side by side, strapped in in their matching car seats, but evidently, it was also life-threatening.

I'll admit that I'm clumsily stumbly on a good day, but I really do get around okay. I have this weak left ankle that rolls without warning or consequence. I can be walking down the street, roll the ankle, recover in some jerky movement that would knock a gymnast's score down an entire point for her landing, but ambulate away without ankle pain or other damage. This happens on average, 4 times a week. I've come to think of it as part of my gait. So, I stepped down, off the bumper of the minivan, onto my unreliable left foot, and the ankle rolled. One minute I was vertical. The next, I was on my back- head bouncing off the asphalt. I heard Lil'cutie fall out of my pocket in a plastic crash.

The sky was so blue. (I see Blue... He looks glorious.)

I heard footsteps. Katy and Web were immediately by my side to confirmed my my mental status (dazed but alert and oriented X3) and help me wiggle out of the middle of the parking lot. I heard a lot of people offering to call 9-1-1, so it must have looked bad. Katy was not pleased about it. She did not appreciate the site of the bounding cranium or the laying motionless for 90 seconds on my back on the pavement... I think she took those 90 seconds to imagine life with 2 boys and no wife, or a wife that spent most of her days drooling. ("THAT'S NOT FUNNY" She's shouting in the background as she reads this.)

A little nausea for a day, a bad headache for 2-3, some jaw pain, and a tender scalp for a week now, but really it could have been worse.

We're taking the house off the market so that we can have this baby without strangers running in and out getting all into our business; and so we can let our house get messy again, and whatnot. The vacation, the ocean, the time away with family (and maybe the bump on the head) have really seemed to help chill me out a little. The pressure is off; which just goes to show you how much "pressure" has kind of been on (It's practically irrational that someone would say, "The pressure is off" as her wife enters the last 6 weeks of her pregnancy.)

It's becoming apparent that we have been running on fumes and have not been paying much attention to the Bean v2.0 except to know that he is kicking and moving and growing in there (And he's makin' his mama's ankles all swollen.)

Now we can focus on the end of the race (Sept 10th due date) and really stop for a few moments to let the summer sweat sting our wide open, attentive eyes; and let the fear of parenting 2 children combined with Katy's extreme state of pregnancy be the undiluted reasons we can't sleep at night. We're practically peeing our pants in anticipation. (Well, one of us is practically peeing her pants for other reasons too.)

At the womb whisperer's request...

A lot of f%&#ing batshittery has happened in the last 7 days...

We have not posted b/c we have been trying to keep our heads above water. It's nothing earth shattering or devastating- if you sprint back 30 yards and look at it from a slight distance.

I have a lot to say about some of it, but here's the bulleted quick-notes version:

Monday: just another manic monday

Tuesday: IBO has her baby, 2 days shy of 26 weeks

Wednesday: I fly to St. Louis, spend 5 hours in airports and planes and 4+ hours in a minivan on Missouri highways accompanied by a quorum of geeks and rednecks; meanwhile at home, Katy gets a call from day care that JB is projectile vomiting

Thursday: I work a 14 hour day, including a 4 hour drive on MO highways, and lose my cell phone somewhere in St. Louis... JB has stopped puking.

Friday: I take a "nonstop" flight home that has me breathing air in 4 cities, and experiencing 3 take offs and 3 landings in 5 hours... (Feeling naked without my cell and wondering the entire time if I will ever see that totally-unimpressive-to-begin-with cell phone again.) Katy is called by day care in the late morning b/c even though JB spent all of Thursday without any vomiting and seemingly healthy, he is now squirting liquid out the other end. Katy is told that she needs to pick him up before his dysentery-esque symptoms spread to any of the other rug rats and a diarrhea-thon commences. I get home at about 3pm and experience the glorious surprise of having my family home waiting for me. Katy is sweet and JB is asleep. It might have been a kinky lazy afternoon if I didn't have to do a few hours of cell phone recon. Oh well...

Today, I got a new cell phone... oh, it's an iphone... And IBO's baby is hanging tough, impressing his medical team and so far, beating all odds!

Catch up

There's been some blog silence. Work for me has been a hellacious endeavor as of late. My left eye has been twitching for 6 or 8 days now. I'll not expand on that here, but I've been pulling the regular hours and then coming home to put in 4 or 5 hours after the baby goes to bed.

Katy has been retiring early in the evening too. Partly because she can't bear to see me pulling my hair out while trying to reconcile time sheets from 2008 and working through budget adjustments for 2009; and partly b/c we are still in hibernation mode. Washington DC was an exciting, inspirational journey of a mini-, winter vacation. But it also kicked the crap out of us.

Last weekend, I believe katy was only awake for 6 hours a day. She's been sleeping a lot of the migratory escape from the national mall and the bone chilling memories off. As the inauguration gets further away, i am more inclined to say to those who weren't there, "It was amazing. I wouldn't have missed it for the world." My wife is more inclined to say, "We should have watched in on tv while while under an electric blanket." I think my marital role as "human furnace and generator of heat" and her marital role as "If you bump your noggin' and need some ice, I can offer my hands as a reasonable substitute" contribute to our perspectives on this matter. There are other factors too, which I won't get into now...

The next few weeks are not going to be much better. But I have some travel time for work and am scheduled to be in 3 cities over the next 2 or 3 weeks, so there may or may not be time for blogging during those trips. I am working on the 16 month newsletter, but it is not yet completed. For those that have been so patient, here are some photos from our DC experience.

[You can click to enlarge all photos]

FROM THE SUNDAY CONCERT AT THE LINCOLN MEMORIAL:


Katy looking around


Me, getting some good shots over the crowd

The crowd:















Our soon to be BFFs:


A copy of "the rules":


A sign of the times that made me well up with pride:

I saw that sign as we climbed onto the little hill that leads to the Wash.monument. I got a little 'motional. It seemed to sum up the spirit of the people in attendance. Standing shoulder to shoulder with a few hundred thousand people? No. You are not the only one!

Then there were these signs:

When we walked down to the concert, these folks were on their megaphones and were pretty much being ignored. But on our way back, the crowd was pretty angry against the "homo sex is a sin" protesters. When we walked past, they were getting booed pretty severely by the exiting mob, but then out of the blue there was applause. We stopped to see wtf and saw several gay couples posing in front of the signs for photos. They would kiss in front of the placards, and a cheer would go up from the crowd. It was hilarious, and drowned out the sound of the megaphones. It is worth noting the diverse range of folks condemned and in need of saving according to the sign in the background: baby killing women, porno freaks, sports nuts, drunks, homos, jesus mockers, and mormons... sounds like a party!

We got to see the womb whisperer for a hot second on Monday:



This is our way into the inauguration. Don't we look warm and happy?!? In that envelope I am holding 2 Golden (well really silver) tickets.


We arrive before sunrise thinking, "When it gets light out, things will really warm up":


We travel through the 3rd street tunnel about 2 hours before all those folks got trapped. The entire time I am in there i am thinking, "i would literally die if we got trapped in here."


We battle the elements for the next 9 hours taking very few photos, but Marnie and David come through with some great shots of the masses:










And of the ceremony:








We remember to take at least one shot to prove we were there:


And one shot of our view of the crowds:


These are the faces that Marnie and David got to see:










Here's one of the faces I got to see:

(She didn't look like this the entire time, this was her special pose at the end of the day when I asked her to smile for the camera. Trust me, it was cold.)

This particular moment in time (Washington DC)

When Barack Obama won the election, Katy and I called up our peeps, David and Marnie and asked breathlessly, "Can we stay at your pad with you?" We were excited and decided a trip to DC to show our boy the capital and to allow him access to permanent bragging rights: I was at BObama's inauguration was something kind of cool to give to a child who would be too young to remember this historic event.

At that time, I wrote all of our legislators emails and snail mail requests for tickets to the swearing in ceremony. We had no expectations. We planning to go hang around on the national mall with the 2 to 4 million people that might show up. We gave ourselves permission as a family to be flexible and if we flew all the way to DC only to watch to swearing in from a bar or some one's living room, that would be fine; since back in November, the weather was any one's guess.

Then about a month ago, the Honorable C. Dodd told us we won a lottery and would have tickets to the biggest show in town. That announcement changed everything. Security is tight: no backpacks, no strollers, no carriers, no coolers, no thermoses... to us it seemed- no baby.

He's not so much a baby anymore and asking him to "stand around" potentially in the cold, in the rain, to be held when he wants to get down, to get down and walk when we might be having a back spasm, it seemed cruel.

Once the decision to leave him behind was made, I have to admit to an immediate burst of excitement. WHAT? An adult, long weekend away, just the two of us? But as the dates grew closer, we were feeling torn. He's in good hands, but not our hands. And he was kind of the drive behind the planning of this trip, but now he is not here...

Yesterday, the plane landed, we retrieved our bag, and stepped outside. Compared to the 1 to 9 degree temps we'd been experiencing at home this week, it was a balmy 29 to 33. We hopped on a bus which took us to a train (the metro), then connected to another train. (All the navigation by a generous, David, who met us per bus at the airport.) Then we walked the 5 or 8 blocks to their house. On the walk from the metro, I was relieved and convinced. It is colder at home, but there's not a lot of "walking around to navigate life" at home. Maybe the walking is not the issue as much as the chill in the air, but the 40-ish minute commute confirmed and erased all doubt in our minds, at this particular moment in time, at this particular age, JB has no business being with us on this particular trip...

As my sister has taught us to tell our kids, excusing everything from juice to soda, coffee to 1/2 and 1/2, and beer to whiskey, "This is an adult beverage". In terms of "carting him around" I kind of wanted to do it: Like an iron-man decathalon without proper training. But I've taken the "Yes we can" mantra and turned it on his head: Yes we can (be smart enough to not be ridiculous). Yes we can (leave well enough alone).

Yesterday, after lunch, we made a plan for long-john hunting and dinner. Then we played a little wii mario cart, then KT and I took a nap. We took an under-the-covers, drool-on-the-pillow, Huh-where-am-I? When-you-wake-up kind of nap. And man that felt good... I can't even remember when that happened last.

And now, this morning, even though I woke up at the time JB would have cried out for some attention, I think I'm going back to bed. Yeah that's right. This might be less of a "fight-the-crowd-and-the-elements" type of a trip than a "rest up and regain your strength" type of trip. I'm glad that boy is in good hands and I feel grateful for grandparents who say to you, "you should go and leave him here with us."

Thanks, Nana and Papa (who I know are up without the option of returning to bed at this moment in time) We'll bring you back whatever nifty souvenirs we can get our hands on...

Flying toward Hope and Change

We are at the airport. We are through security. We are waiting to line up outside the gate...

It's the first time I've been able to blog from the airport (not a huge traveler and that's not something that can usually happen with a one year old)
It's the first time that we've left JB for 5 days (3 full days and 2 half days).
It's the first time that we've been in the "A" zone for a Southwest flight - god bless my wife for the prompt online check in.

So excited for this weekend, even though we are fighting off the twitching from the JB separation anxiety...

Will post more soon!

Just for DIL

Jake discovers the ad that responds to you. David was similarly intrigued the last time he himself visited our illustrious airport.

New Year's Eve

Things are going well on our visit to Ohio.

We arrived on Sat, the 27th. Web dropped us off at the airport. We flew to Baltimore, had a 1.5 hr layover, and then flew to Columbus. JB -10 days post ear surgery laughed (literally) as the plane took off. He gave us a couple of adroable "wow"s and "what's that" as he looked out the airplane window. We read a couple of books, and then he fell asleep in kt's arms for the last 45 minutes of a one hour flight. We fed him food we brought from home during the layover, and he entertained himself quietly and sweetly during the second leg of the journey, teasing us while rubbing his eyes, but never quite falling asleep. Every age brings a little terror over potential travel meltdowns. When we flew with him when he was 4 months old, he slept the whole time. When he was 9 months old, he was very curious and fidgety and tired and we had to walk him up and down the plane to get him to chill. I thought this time would be a nightmare. Rather, I feared it would be, but useless concerns... he handled it like a champ and as usual, he made us look good.

Kt's dad bought a car seat and her mom a stroller, so we didn't need to bring either item, instead carried him through the airports in the hiking backpack which turned out to be great in that it seconds as a chair for him.

The family has really enjoyed seeing the boy (oh yeah, and us too.) They are wild for him, impressed by him and totally in love. Until our arrival, they hadn't seen him walk in person. Though we do a little ichatting with the grannies, so they had seen it via the internet. Uncle Josh and JB met up for the first time in over a year and circled each other mentally the way frat brothers do before they clasp shoulders and collapse into a loving wrestling match. When we couldn't keep the baby away from all the computers we have out Uncle J downloaded baby games for Granny and Granna's mac - very cool stuff.

Last night, with much encouragement from Uncle J, JB chewed on a lemon wedge. His face contorted, his eyes blinked in tart-clenched spasms, his body shuttered, but he went back for it 3 or 4 times for all the attention it got him.

JB has been doing so well. He listens to what we tell him; he's eating well, sleeping well, napping pretty good. He knows who everyone is which shouldn't surprise me, but it does: "Where's (fill in any name)?" and he looks toward that person. He's had a few meltdowns and has trouble transitioning from sleep to wake up without some fussiness, but we can't help be proud of the go-with-the-flow temperament and the way he is generally handling the trip.

Gobble-Gobble

Thanksgiving.

I have a lot to be thankful for this year.
I have a wonderful life.

We're in NJ. It's a relatively new holiday tradition: My mom's sister and brother-in-law run a bed and breakfast that is the shit a great way to spend a long weekend. Everyone gets their own room (with flat screen TV, DVD, fireplace, and bathroom). Most of the bathrooms have hot tubs or tubs with jets- those that don't have multi-nozzled, double shower-heads in the showers. The common areas are equipped with a TV and DVD player and huge tables for all kinds of communing.

There are 16 of us here. There've been a lot of games and movies and eating and napping. The inn is literally across the street from the beach. I can see the Atlantic ocean from the front door. Yesterday, I seriously considered dropping trow and jumping into the sea- just to prove I would... 4 days before December.

But I didn't. It just didn't seem worth the respiratory infection that was bound to follow. Plus, so far, there hasn't been an hour waiting period in-between eating... I didn't want to "cramp up."

Inn or no Inn, Ocean or no ocean, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It has all the dietary indulgence of Christmas without the mandatory consumer gluttony and pressure of having found the perfect gifts. It has all the gratitude, all the family, all the fun and laughter, all the blessings without the credit card debt, the never ending decorations, the syrupy cliche of Santas and reindeer who worship babies born of virgins in stables.

Mostly, I love Thanksgiving because it's a long weekend with family or friends, or if you're lucky, both. Last year, we did the whole deal at our house with a newborn and one half of his grand-parentage/adoring family.

This year, we're enjoying ourselves here.

No matter what our current traditions are, Thanksgiving in my heart will always be about cousins. I've spoken about this before, but i have a lot of amazing cousins. I miss Thanksgiving with the west-coast boys- mixing it up, playing poker/board games, and taking time to get reacquainted. It's been too many years since I've licked the back of a playing card on Thanksgiving and stuck it to my forehead when Nash was dealing or put all my faith in the fact that Greg's rules to "baseball" were legit (I've never been able to commit the rules of that game to memory) or stayed up with Trav when the others "gave in" to talk about where we've come from and where we're going.

So gents, (and wives and kids) hope you're warm and fuzzy and feeling the love, and enjoying your turkey... and if you're mixing drinks and playing cards, hope you know that I feel bad I'm not out there, swindling you out of all your coinage.

Mama's home

The family is back together :)
Katy is back from her conference...

I have a lot more respect for single parents than I did before.
This week I drove 750 miles in 5 days: A trip to Boston to see the Sox get annihilated (first time in Fenway park in more than 4 years) and then a trip to RI for work. The day I had to travel for work, I had to have Nana do a day care drop off at 7:15am and the poor dude (JB) was at work camp from 7:15am to 5:15pm.

Reporting from Los Angeles County

I'm currently in LA for a "business trip". The business is learning more about insulin pumps and continuous monitoring. It's been fantastic so far with a beautiful drive up the Pacific Coast Highway and then through the Topanga Canyon. Last night a dinner at the 'Changs. And today a lovely walk through the history of implantable medical devices, specifically insulin pumps. Tonight, a dinner at Roy's (a restaurant, not someone I know). Tomorrow, the long flight home to see my boo and my baby boo.

Missing home... but trying to party like I'm in Minnesota like my wife implored me to do....

Our summer vacation 2008 a.k.a. "My aching back"

For the past 3 summers, we we've gotten to the beach, courtesy of my parents. When the Mac attack was born, (March 2006) my mom was the pre-daycare for the summer months. (She's a teacher.) When Mom and Dad planned a week away, she offered to take the baby with her to hold up her end of the deal. My sister was like, "Effe that." It was hard enough for her to be away from her baby during the working hours, let alone all day AND all night for a week. "If I have to take a week off from work to be mommy day care, I may as well do it at the beach," she thought, and accepted my parent's invitation to vacation with them. When I got wind of this, I was all "Effe. That!" I wanted to be there when Mac ate her first clumps of sand, and I wanted to enjoy a few sand clumps and nosefuls of salt water myself.

Last year, my sister and I were a combined 16 months pregnant during the "family beach vacation." I kind of thought that would give us a pass from all of the lugging, tugging, carting, and carrying. But my sister looked around and saw delays in her mental schedule if she and I were not participating in Sherpa duties. So, because of her, my notions of opting out of manual labor, walking to the beach carrying nothing but my flip flops, and using the growing bean as an excuse were destroyed. When I looked around and saw her resting her 25 lb kid on her 33 week pregnancy bump while carrying a full beach bag that the kid could have fit into on one shoulder, and 2 folding chairs on the other shoulder, I hoisted the cooler onto my shoulder and grabbed the other enormous beach bag and waddled my third trimester self through the sand.

This year, sadly, we were down a grandma at the beach, but with two new babies, we needed additional strollers and gear. It's not the heavy lifting that breaks you. (Though my knees want to make their opinion known that "heavy lifting" doesn't make their lives any easier.) It's the un-natural 45 degree bend you end up keeping your back in for hours when you're dealing with people who are 2 feet tall and who either can't stand up, or can't be trusted not to fall over. I use my knees, I squat, I try for better body mechanics, but that back-straining bend is unrelenting.

But I'll tell you what... back ache, nothing. This week's weather was probably the best week of the year. I don't know what it felt like inland, but out there by the sea, perfection: Hot, sunny, clear, 80 degrees plus, but feeling much cooler with the breeze. The weather was perfect every day. The one storm they threatened didn't materialize except for a few hours of rain at night. My friend the ocean was clear and refreshing. The grands were saviors in terms of keeping us outnumbering the kids. And the kids... Good Lord the kids were just fun and amazing and they really enjoyed each other. While we were away, JB cut his 2 top teeth, finally waved, and grew in ways I can't explain except to say, "right before our eyes." Somehow, he definitely seems like he's about to turn one and I couldn't say that last week.

More stories to come, but it was a wonderful week away. (Hat tip to Nana and Papa)

Newsletter: Month 9

JB,



Today you turned 9 months old.



We have had quite a month.



We spent time in ohio.







You grew some teeth.



And you started creeping and pulling yourself to a standing position.









We have taken (literally) hundreds of photographs this month.



I have to go back and check, but I think this is the first month without an ear infection since day care started.



You are a well-traveled, healthy, happy, mobile boy!





Today, you went swimming for the first time...



As I expected you did awesome.



Hesitant at first, mostly related to water temperature.





By the end, you were kicking and reaching and riding in inner tubes.



You were smiling and laughing and wanting everyone to watch you.



At the end of our adventure, I decided I wanted you to go under the water. I dipped you and you didn't even cry... Just gave me a dirty look that was like, "What the charred-duck was that for?!?"



There's more to say, but a few more pictures are better than more words...











We love you,





Your mommies!