"Screw that, Kids!"

I'm posting about this because in 10 or 15 years (oh, who am I kidding? 15 months) I may not remember the back story, but this kid, Chris Colfer plays an amazing character in Glee...
An out-of the closet gay high school-er who is a singer and a dancer, who cannot pass for straight; who is bullied, but strong, temperamental, bitchy, compassionate and complicated.



The part was written for the actor after he auditioned and the creators realized they didn't have a part for him, but they wanted this guy in their show. (Gay boy's dream come true, right?) It is a fun show. There are a lot of goofy, funky, fun, ridiculous things about Glee. But sometimes, watching what Chris's "Kurt" is dealing with and seeing how he moves through life is the main reason I watch this show.

In terms of showing a fully textured character that is gay, there has never been anything like it on TV. As a lesbian, it floors me. I am simultaneously happy and grateful that this show and this character is on TV now. AND I'm a little disgusted that this is ground-breaking and controversial in 2011.

As a mom, I always keep Kurt in the back of my head and heart. Protecting my kids means supporting them so they can stand on their own
AND watching helplessly as they make their own courageous way thru life
AND teaching them to respect others
AND teaching them when to fight and when to work on "their art" and when to chill out.

The content of this show can practically be boiled down to two things: singing and bullying.

Glee shows - with an appalling lack of subtlety but an obviousness that lends itself to symbolism- that the kids (and sometimes adults) that put their creative, yawning, sappy hearts out there can be halted and invalidated by someone who says, "THAT'S GAY!" quicker than the snapping shut of a metal Zippo lighter. Even if the implication is put out there (What you are saying or how you are acting is GAY, Queer weird, strange, stupid, and out of the normal range) and the anti-gay slur is omitted, the effect is the same. I've seen it happen in political discussions. I've seen it happen in the work place. I've seen teachers do it to students. I've seen parents do it to kids. And countless times, I've seen kids to it to other kids.

The threat of being called gay is one thing that shuts a lot of people down: gay kids, people in the closet, heterosexuals that have nothing against people that are gay. Name-calling often stops people in their tracks, without the silenced person knowing why. Being called "Weird" is not the same as being called "Gay". But some would claim (see politicians who go on and on about how "everyone is bullied for something" and therefore "gays" don't deserve "special protections") that only "super sensitive gay kids" care so much, and take it so personally.

But isn't all bullying really about checking to see if you can make someone feel inferior and alone in a way that historically meant being called "gay"? No matter what the incident begins with, bullies just want to see if they can make you cry or beg for mercy- so then you are either a baby or a fag (or if you are a girl and you don't cry, maybe you're a dyke.) In our society, there is no bigger schoolyard insult- worse than being poor, ugly,stupid nerdy, fat, or the "wrong" race or religion. In all those groups, you are far better off to not also be perceived as gay.

All the kids in the glee club on Glee endure, submit, and occasionally stand up to bullying. And all of them have made a choice to be who they are in spite of that bullying.

And Kurt is no different. He has bravely made a choice to be who is he and not pretend or hide even- though that comes with a lot of shit, and sometimes requires him pretend that he doesn't care or pretend that he is stronger than he is. The show does all of this without denying that stereotypes are based in reality, without trying to make him some perfect "who wouldn't like him" character. The show lets him be bitchy sometimes and immature sometimes. They dress him (or let Chris dress?) in such a way that meat-heads in the fly-overs will look at him and say, "of course he gets his ass kicked" and twinks throughout the land say, "I LOVE WHAT HE'S WEARING!"

But Kurt is never a punch line. He has a "real" father on the show that loves him no matter what and is honest about how hard is is to be so different from your son. He has a small group of friends that support him completely, and are terrorized on some level by bullies themselves, but they mostly know that he is in this alone because they cannot understand the more difficult aspects and internal struggle of being gay.

Nearly every time I watch the show (and its calculated plots, random singing, bizarre antics, silliness, absurd fantasy nonsense) it ends with my mouth agape for the realization that this show and Chris Colfer's character is probably literally saving lives: Kids who see themselves for the first time in him. Kids who realize that they shouldn't bully someone for how they dress or act or for being gay. Parents who see a role model for how to protect their gay kid without asking him or telling him to hide his uniqueness. Everyday people who aren't gay or particularly prejudiced who don't think that there should be anti-gay laws, but don't see the particular harm in churches or hate groups lobbying against what will someday a non-issue (2 or 3 generations down the road).

Now they have Kurt to admire, protect, worry about, and love- despite his flaws. They have Kurt who is unapologetic, but always one bad day away from completely falling apart. They have Kurt who is as honest, smart, and brave (and more talented) than any football player or soldier or "perfect son" you have ever seen on TV.

We have Kurt to better measure our prejudices and to help us assess how inclined we are to get up off the couch and stand against people that are teaching our children that gay children (and the adults they grow into) should be stopped, feared, changed, fought, pitied, lobbied against, kept separate...

We have Kurt.
And Now Chris Colfer has a golden globe.

Today begins the reign of the 112th congress of the USA

And here are some other highlights.

It's taken me three full days to believe that I'm back at work after the wonderful couple of weeks we've had:

1. Week before Christmas = STAYcation. Katy and I were off from work together without traveling anywhere for the first time in at least 5 years. During that time, JB got his third set of ear tubes surgically implanted (3rd in 3 years). He did great. We were home by 10 AM. He watched more TV that day than any other day of his life and quite possibly more TV than any other WEEK in his life.

2. Christmas at TT's and Bill's house. We spent the better part of 14 hours there, eating, playing, opening gifts, and eating. Did I say that twice? I meant to...

3. The grannies came for a visit. They were able to avoid wintery weather during the long commute to and from Ohio, but got to enjoy a good ol'fashioned CT blizzard while they were here. JB and ML got to build their first huge snowman and go sledding around the yard with them. (JB's had a few winters, but none where he ever wanted to TOUCH the snow before.)

4. New years weekend was relatively quiet and Katy and I enjoyed some special times alone with our boys.

Today, Katy and I went to our first wake of the year.
Tomorrow, a funeral. Not someone we know, but the dad of someone we love.

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

Looking back, as I said above, we had some wonderful times over the holidays.
I feel so lucky and blessed, but I have to say, the holidays beat the shit out of me this year.
I spend a lot of time worrying. Anxiety-ridden might be a more honest analysis of the scene.

It was the first Christmas that "Santa" mattered to JB and the number of times I forgot that I didn't get something at "toys r'us" but "Santa brought it" was too many to count. He's easy to fool right now, but I've gotta get into this game, or the jig will be up by the time ML is 3...

So, I was worried about not being a good enough Santa.
I was worried about not being a good enough wife.
I was worried about money and time and family- not living up to the expectations of everyone. Or rather, not living up to my own expectations and not feeling like everyone judges me as harshly as I judge myself. I was worried about JB's impending surgery on the 21st of December. I was worried about getting the "right" gifts and not just getting gifts for the sake of getting gifts. I was worried about not being able to get done the "special gifts" like photo calendars and cookies that we planned to get done. I was worried about Katy and I not agreeing on all of these things related to gifts and how to celebrate the holidays (after all these years together, it is only now that that are kids are starting to understand a world that does not end at the tips of their fingers that Katy and I have to really start communicating about what we want the holidays to be for us and our boys). I was worried that the ways that Katy and I try to answer these questions and compromise for each other will not make sense to all of our parents - who we desperately want to be with and be respectful of but who we don't always agree with. I was worried about how I can possibly instill a sense of peace and joy and zen about Christmas (and life in general) into my children, if I am on the verge of panic all the time at this time of the year.

I was worried about work and projects that were very time sensitive and I had set a high expectation of success that would be a direct reflection of my work and require me to call in a lot of personal favors. I was worried about the weather and the house in the winter and getting the cars in the garage, and decorating, and keeping the house neat and clean, and warm! And spending enough time with the kids and trying to balance these two desires to 1) expose our kids to a lot of wonderful of people and things, get them out into the world to see lights and celebrations, and have them know family and friends that are family and 2) have quiet times alone at home with them, keep them grounded in a safe and reasonable schedule, and not drag them all over creation for things that they do not really need or understand right now.

It was a lot. And it started for me at the beginning of November. And I tried with some success to stay in the moment and did have some beautiful moments, and did (I think) manage to take care of my wife who was experiencing similar things herself... I think we did a good job with it all, but I feel like some of the (mostly self-imposed) pressure is off now. To be honest this week, I let out a big sigh of relief.

I'm going to work on this. I don't want every year to feel oxygen flushing back into my lungs with the prospect of the holidays ending. Yet, feeling a rush of Oxygen in your lungs is a good feeling, no matter how one comes by it.

So now back to the business of governing the nation...

Tiny piles of pebbles

We have some seriously cute kids.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love my Barry White."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and

and

and

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

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

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

Because it kind of is.

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

We are lucky lucky mommies!

Season opener

Hey sports fans, it is that time of year again...
We won the first game of the season last night in a crusher 10-3.

If you have ever followed this bloggy-here thing in the summer-ish months, you know how much I love this team. You also know that winning our first game... this is a big JOE$#&%BIDEN deal! Well, not really a big deal as in "we care so much about winning", but a big "it doesn't usually happen this way" kind of thing.

Last night there were a lot of unusual events aside from throwing one in the "W" column...
1) We fielded a team of 10 plus a designated hitter (without a problem)
2) Did I mention we won
3) It was the first time in about 10 years that there were more than 5 infant/toddler tykes running around (thanks to the birth of ML and the concurrent attendance of Jess, Web and Katy and me.)

When I started playing on this team, there were swarms of offspring out there every night. Back then, I was 30 (okay 60) lbs lighter and was the "next generation"...

I sat on the curb after games for 2 seasons before I took a beer out of the cooler caddy to avoid a "10-9" (that's the town ordnance for underage drinking.) Sadly, that's not even a lie... some of my teammates were friends of my parents and I didn't want any trouble for me or anyone else.

At that time it was all we could do to keep our heads in the game:

Nancy: Robert, keep your sister away from the dumpster.
Deb: WHERE'S FRANKIE?!?
Nancy2: Are the twins okay on this blanket?
Kim: They're fine, my kids will watch them.
Nancy: COURTNEY!!! GET OUT OF THE ROAD!
Me: (Trying to warn about the approaching line-drives to these mommies who were trying to play ball and keep their kids out of traffic.) TWO OUT, PEOPLE... THE PLAY IS AT FIRST OR SECOND BASE...

Oh yeah, i was all business. But only because I didn't want anyone to get hurt.

I distinctly remember one ice cream truck arrival in the middle of the 4th inning, bases loaded, 2 outs, the insane music vamps in a slow crescendo from somewhere in the distance and the kids start to revolt. one mom and then another and then a few more until we had no defense for a few minutes because everyone was scraping coins together for treats...

So here I am all these years later, and I just didn't see this coming. I remember thinking, "this is the way to do it" as I saw sisters and cousins and neighbors playing and raising their kids together... and I can't honestly say, "the years have flown by"; I mean, these have been long fought and hard won years of falling in love and working and family making...

But somehow, I am now one of the elders.

The original moms are the team "aunties", sisters and wives and cousins have joined and we have brought forth on this field a new generation of Play-yas... Between Jess's boys and our boys and my sister's girls, and Amber's daughter and am I missing anyone??? We have an entire gaggle of babies, all over again.

I hope the new girls (and by "new girls" I mean the young women who were kind enough to merge with our team a few years back to give us a shot at avoiding a 2 times-a-week ass-whooping with accompanying trips to the ER every other week) I hope they don't tire of our kids running around, swinging wiffle bats too close to the on deck circle; children whining when their moms have to go into the field; our little Boos- sometimes listening and playing the part of adorable bat-boy/girl, and sometimes, throwing a tantrum for no apparent reason.

I assure my younger teammates that if they stick with it, it will come back to them ten-fold b/c when they take their turns at child rearing, we will be here to pay it forward... or backward... or however it goes.

But until then, I hope they don't mind that I am sometimes going to shout, silly things from the field like, "YOUR COUSIN'S NOSE IS NOT FOR YOU TO PICK!!!" and they might sometimes here things like:
"DO NOT TAKE YOUR UNDERWEAR OFF!!! JUST SIT ON THE POTTY CHAIR AND PULL THEM BACK UP WHEN YOU ARE DONE." When I should instead be quietly backing up the shortstop at 2nd base...

I hope the "retired" but dedicated former members of the team don't hold it against us that they are not done chasing toddlers around this field... 2 decades later they are still scooping kids up out of the way and digging through their bags to pay the ice cream man.

I hope last night was not my mom's last visit to the field, because really, Nana is not afraid to tether herself to her grand kids... to the great benefit of both me AND my children .

And most importantly, I hope that I keep up this batting percentage (so far = 1.000; 4 times up; 3 hits; one walk) to compensate for my not-so-"lightening"-speed, for the fact that i seem to have "forgotten how to throw", and for the havoc that our "lifestyle choices" have reeked on my ability to concentrate on the team, the game, and the cooler caddy afterward.

Today, I am sore. But as usually happens the day after a game... I am feeling incredibly grateful for this group of women that I am lucky enough to call my friends.

PLAY BALL!

Hey batter batter

This is JB and ML pretending to play baseball in our kitchen...
Katy helps ML "throw" an imaginary ball, and JB swings and hits the ball...
ML is laughing so hard he seems in physical pain.
This is how he is with JB. There are times he is cranky and times he doesn't want to play because he need to sleep or reduce hunger or some other basic need outlined by Maslow at the base of the pyramid... but usually all gets put aside if JB is acting like JB around ML...




I love these kids.
(and their mama)!

Two of my sweetest moments as a mom...

Happened in bathrooms today...

1) JB is in full potty training mode. He's in underwear except at night and has been relatively accident free. Today I had to go to the bathroom and he insisted on coming in with me. He was distractedly playing with a toy, but when he heard my first drop of pee hit the water, he immediately turned his attentive eyes to me. With a proud, eager smile he congratulated me: "GOOD JOB, MOMMY!"

(Sigh)

2) Tonight as I was getting him ready for bed, we were working thru our routine. The regular dental hygiene segment is as follows: JB brushes with a standard kid's toothbrush for as long as he wants and then I brush his teeth with that same toothbrush. Then, he gets to use my electric brush. (I used it as a reward one night thinking I would forever regret that split second of poor judgement, but he really likes it, and uses it well and actually puts it on his teeth, etc.)

Tonight he balked when I handed him his toothbrush and just as I thought it would be a big'ol battle, he asked sweetly, "You brush my teeth, Mommy?" and he handed the brush back to me. He allowed me to really get in there and brush. He stopped to ask me if I saw any food on his teeth (??) and in the middle of my cleaning- his mouth full of spittle- he told me encouragingly, "You are a really good toothbrusher, Mommy."

I'm sure this kid will say plenty of things in his life that will reflect back my not-so-deeply-hidden inner asshole, but today many of the things he said made me think "Wow, we are doing pretty good with this parenting thing."

Sent from my iPhone

Seems like we're finally moving to Midpoint!

We made and offer on "Blue Steel" on the cul de sac.
It was countered a few thousand over what we offered.
We accepted last night!

Then we celebrated with a meal of grilled tuna and chicken, homemade mango salsa, and tomato and Mozzarella salad with Anne and Pat who made a surprise stop on their way through New England.

The day started at our friend's Jaime and Dan LEGAL wedding (now that I'm a mom, something chemical has happened, I cry at all weddings, but I seem to get especially emotional at gay weddings and during "mother/son dances".) There was a lo-key backyard reception where I got to wear shorts and a t-shirt and eat amazing Mexican food AND tie on a mid-day beer buzz.

Yesterday was a terrific day!

John McCain concedes the presidential election

I'm blown away. The dude is suddenly graceful in his concession speech.
Still, that makes him a class act.

Just one of her jobs...

In her "spare" time, my wife teaches a course at Yale. One morning a week, during her administrative time at her regular job, she heads to New Haven to teach the third year FNP students "clinical conference" - a course designed to get the group together to breakdown, analyze, and present cases from their individual clinical experiences. She has frequently joked that this course is little more than group therapy and her job is to constantly remind the students that they are doing well and will survive and probably thrive once they get "out there" after graduation.

She admits that this was one of her favorite courses when she was at YSN and loves teaching it because it keeps her focused, up to date, and of all the graduate level courses she has experienced, it is the one that seems extraordinarily geared toward reality. It is the practical information they share for 2 hours a week that keeps students attending this class when they are skipping other classes to complete research and/or attend to other high priorities (like a hunting for a job.)

Since before we left for Spain, Kt has been involved in an email conversation with her boss that went something like this:

Boss: I'll see you at graduation.
kt: I don't think I will be able to attend graduation ceremonies this year.
Boss: You really should go.
kt: Thank you. I would love to go, but I will be just getting back from Spain that same day.
B: Great. I'll send you a ticket.
Kt: Um... thank you again, but it will be terribly difficult to make it.
B: You really should attend. I think you will want to be there.

You get the point, it went on and on and on.

Finally, assuming that her job was on the line, kt requested a ticket for me to attend also. There was some private discussion between my wife and me about the possibility that Kt might be winning some kind of award as one of the more cryptic lines in an email said something like, "I don't want to let the cat out of the bag..."

When we arrived at the ceremony all sweaty (it's much more humid here than in Barcelona) and jet-lagged, I looked at the program and reminded my wife that there might be nothing more in this day for her save a "Will all the part time faculty please stand for a round of applause..."

We high-fived our favorite teachers and students as they processed in and sat through what was actually a quite inspiring commencement address by Loretta Sweet Jemmott, PhD, RN, F.A.A.N. It would have been enough to justify our drive down, but then one of Kt's students got up to present the Annie W. Goodrich Award for Excellence in Teaching.

From the introduction I thought it might be Kt's name that was eventually called, but understand- the criteria for this award implies that this should be a full time professor- available above and beyond... wisdom... expertise... devotion to students... dedication to nursing education. Also, understand that I somehow learned a pervasive tendency to expect the other shoe to drop at all times, so I don't like to get hopes up- it could be bad luck, or-alternatively- it might indicate a tendancy toward egomania... Anyway, in the middle of my internal, mental debate, I got to hear my sweetie's name called and watch her parade up on stage in front of all the tenured faculty and highly respected, robed guests in attendance. She gave a nervous and humble thank you, expressed gratitude to her teachers, mentors, and students, and made it off the stage without shedding a tear or shitting her pants (both of which I almost did just sitting, stunned in the audience.)

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS A BIG DEAL. This is the only teaching award offered once a year at the Yale School of Nursing. Previous winners have written the text books of the courses they teach and changed (literally) the face and process of nursing and education. It is a student nominated award that must be approved by the faculty and dean. But the truth is, as noted above, getting student to take the time to submit nominations is not always easy at this point (immediately prior to graduation) in their academic careers. Often, the nominations come from PhD candidates who wish to acknowledge their advisors.

It seems Katy's students pulled a coup- all 10 of them spent time writing out detailed nomination essays because they felt this award represented what she offered them. It might have been a rebellious, smirking nod intended to mark their personal (FNP) stamp on their graduation ceremony. But it could not have been a more clear or sweet show of respect for my wife who does go above and beyond in her wisdom, expertise, and dedication. Also clear and very thrilling was the obvious pleasure of the dean and many of the faculty- who were our teachers and some of whom have become our friends. One said to Kt: "I just think it is absolutely the coolest thing!"

So another highlight of an already fantastic month was witnessing my wife collect the
2007 Annie W. Goodrich Award for Excellence in Teaching.
It was a truly wonderful experience and I'm just so proud!