Mid winter's night dream

JB gave up the binki this week.

Oh the drama- mostly for the moms. He's 3 plus years. Our pediatrician said, "It's time."
But it seemed so harsh and unnecessary. Though he has only been using his binki at night for (I think) almost two years now, he has become more whiny about wanting and needing it and he doesn't really need it- he hasn't used it at school practically since his first birthday.

To her credit, Katy has been the enforcer on this one. She really took to heart Dr. L's "It's time." and I think she even heard it as, "IT'S TIME, YOU NEGLIGENT BITCHES!!!!!" Usually, I'm the one around here who is all, "Honey, we have to put our foot down." But in this instance, she was one step away from making him leave it for Santa on Christmas eve in order to get his presents in the morning.

But here is the type of kid we are dealing with:
Last week, we really played up this "YOU're A BIG BOY... YOU'RE GIVING UP YOUR BINKI" thing. And he was into it. Over the weekend, he told anyone who would listen, "I'M GIVING UP MY BINKI in TWO DAYS!" He got a special soft toy and a day trip to the museum with his Papa, and the previous days were full of snow and sledding and fun. Sunday night, when the binki sacrifice was upon us, JB went all, "Binki, I wish I knew how to quit you"...

It was hysteria and crying. Heaving sobs and heartbreaking bargaining: "I...wwwwwill...give..uuuupupupuuuup my Binknknknnknknknknk ieeee... to-ooo-ooo-ooo morrrrrowwwwww... Pleeeeeeeeeze, not tonight..."

This went on and on and I was the first one to crack under this pressure. The parental conferencing went on in whispered tones in between sobs:

Me: What are we supposed to do? He's a wreck.
Her: I know... I don't know.

US: JB, what will happen tomorrow if you get the binki tonight... If you want one more night, that's okay, (We nodded at each other, agreeing to this compromise on-the-fly) but we can't have this go on again tomorrow. (We nodded even more exuberantly at each other, a couple of clown-moms who think they are the first to craft a plan to cram 16 other clowns into a small car.)

Like an addict begging for one more chance, he tells us, NO, of course he won't cry or whine for his binki TOMORROW... tomorrow he will GIVE UP the binki...
He tells us this still in between sobs and spittle, but with the tone of a true con artist, practically convincing me that I am unfair to presume that he was looking for a longer reprieve- it is just ONE MORE NIGHT!!! What don't you get about that?!? No one is going to do this again tomorrow... TOMORROW is the day we GIVE UP the binki... Get it?!?

As he puts the polish on his point, with a heartbreakingly stoic, "please," his screams and cries evaporate. We can see his heart pounding in his chest. In the deafening silence that replaced the chaotic hysteria born of his tiny vocal chords, he inhales one more staccato breath for dramatic effect and leaves the wet tears trickling quietly down his cheeks. And though we know we are being conned, we know this is surely the beginning of months of long battles at bed time, Katy and I look at the clock which is proclaiming the time to be 9:45pm (nearly 2 hours past the little dude's bedtime) and we cave quicker than a house of cards in a wind tunnel.

One more night of binki...

And the next night, guess what happened?

Bedtime announcement:
"TONIGHT I GIVE UP MY BINKI!!!"
Bath. PJs. Stories. Brush teeth. Say prayers.
JB: Goodnight, Mama. Goodnight, Mommy.
Us: Goodnight. Love you.
Him: Love you

To bed. Shut door.
(beat...beat...beat)
US: (motioning silently to eachother) W.T.F.?!?!?

5 days later... not even a bedtime request to see his former life-partner, Binki.

That's the type of kid we have got here:
One part "I'll do what you want"
One part "If you allow my timeline and/or I have some say in the terms"
One part "I trust you and can appreciate what you're trying to do here"
A spash of "I'm not really interested in months of battling"
shaken and poured into a fancy glass that has been chilled in "Just keep it in the back of your head that we all got a little of what we wanted here."

Unspoken warning of a 3 year old: I could have just as easily shut this shit down! But I didn't, did I???

I'm gonna try to stay on this kid's good side. Srsly.

Community resources

Today, JB said to me (at the loud sounds the exhaust system of my car is making right now): Your car is broken or something, Mommy?
ME: yes. it is loud and needs to be fixed.
JB:Let's take it to Matt's store...
(matt- our mechanic)
JB: I love Matt's store

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...

Happy New Year

This is a new year for the GSO!
Stick with us, we're gonna work it for realz all year...

The club can't even handle me right now.

-------

Sent from my iPhone 4

First few minutes of a Saturday

JB: (while we were reading a book where a bird was seated at the feet of a giraffe) We don't step on birds.
Me: No.
JB: Then they would be ruined.
Mommy: Ya.

Side bar: I wish I had thought of this explanation back in the day...

----------

JB: (After asking what a lily pad was and listening to my explanation) Are they stable?

----------

JB: See how many teeth I have (he opens his mouth wide)? How many teeth do you have?
Mommy: (opens her mouth wide)
JB: Do you have some in the back? (mommy opens her mouth wider and JB stares for several seconds) Wow.

Elizabeth Edwards (July 3, 1949 – December 7, 2010)

The United States of America and the world (to say nothing of progressives and the GLBT community) lost a true hero today.



It almost makes her husband not seem likes such a schmuck- that this woman chose him and loved him.

Respect, Mrs. Edwards.
R.I.P.

-------
btw, my mom told me and I balked that it could not possibly be true (until she was proven correct by the almighty internet) that Elizabeth Edwards had a baby when she was 48 and another one when she was 50 years old... Maybe not "hero" so much as "superhero".

From the backseat

JB: ML, what does a dragon say?
ML: RRrrrrrrrarghhhhhaaaaarrr!
JB: Good, ML!!! Hey guys, he knows what a dragon says!!!

(moms are giggling up front)

JB's newsletter (cont)

JB:
You are our little Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde right now. Just about 50% of the time you are the model of a mature-beyond-your-years toddler, compete with pithy commentary, dreamy but sophisticated language, and childlike wonder. Today you asked if we could "move this toy to a new area". You call out to the moon in 2 languages ("La Luna!") whenever you see it in the sky. You have mastered the "I have an idea mom..." strategy of countering our mandates and when we tell you you can't do something.

The flip side is this is an intense period of whining, testing, and learning that the word "NO" doesn't only have to only be accepted quietly, but can be directed back at your parents...




This is you kissing your brother on his birthday... you are the greatest, most patient big bro.



Chocolate face!!!

You at dance class:







You playing football:









You with a sourpuss on at Halloween...




With your buddy at the halloween party at school:



Enjoying your birthday gift from TT and Uncle Bill:


Climbing a mountain during a hike:




I love this shot! It's all about the Italian bread...







We love you so much, baby big boy!!!

love, Mommy and Mama

Newsletter: 14 months AND 37.5 months

Dear ML and JB,

Let me start by saying, I love you both way more than it may appear (having missed writing you newsletters on the occasion(s) of your first and third birthdays, respectively.)



ML- today you are 14 months and one day old:


JB- today you are 37 months and 13 days old:


Today, for most of the day, I felt 2,352 months old. But after spending a few hours with you this evening, you brought me back closer to my actual age (448 some-odd months).

We set our clocks back 2 weeks ago and now at 5pm it is dark, darkie, dark-dark... Like the lining of a wool, dress coat that is wrapped around your face in a basement closet when you are starting to worry that the other kids moved on to another game without yelling, "come out, come out where ever you are"...)

I hate it.

I am not one of these people to complain about the weather and usually, there is nothing i like more than a change of season, but the darkness has hit me hard this year.

I hate picking you up from day care in the dark. I hate waking you up and rushing you out of the house in the (mostly dark) morning so that Mama and I can get to work on time. I hate these two things so much I've started to contemplate what you would miss out on if I quit my job and stayed home to take care of you. Aside from the obvious (food, heat, and new underwear when you grow out of your current size) there is quite a bit at school, I'm not sure I could replicate for you at home all day.

It makes me a little heart sick to imagine you without the groups of boys and girls your age to play with; learning to negotiate and socialize with peer groups. You have the older kids to look up to, and the younger kids to look out for. You have grown dependent on the many layers of structure: the schedule, the group activities, the various play stations; the rooms you are looking forward to moving into and the rooms you lovingly look back on; the assortment of teachers who are caring and loving, but who see you as precious members of precious groups and not the "answer to all of their prayers"... I mean, I could duplicate a curriculum, but I worry about the rest of it.



Together right now, you two (ML and JB) are so perfect: so much work, so demanding, downright exhausting, AND so loving, generous, full of joy, and forgiving all at the same time. You also really compliment one another's personalities and are remarkably tolerant of each other. At least once a day, one of you smooches or climbs on or swats at the other one, and no matter which of you is on the receiving end, there is no swat back, practically no protest... I know there is fighting in your future, but it is hard to believe to see you interact right now.



ML:
You might be the happiest baby I've ever seen. Not surface happy, but an attentive, clever, mischievous version of the happiest baby on the block. You are a beast and there is practically no end to the nicknames your mama and I have for you: We still call you Senor Destruction, but also Hoss, Biff, Chunks, and baby dragon. It's not really your stature (you have definitely slimmed down and dropped from the 95th percentile in height and wt to the 50th percentile.) It is more that you have no fear, but you are full of opinions. You are demanding, but laid back too. If you fall, your frustration is more apparent than your self-pity, fear, or physical discomfort.





You want nothing like you want electronics. You want the phone, you want the remote, you want the phone. You get really pissed off if you see a phone and we don't give it to you- you fall to the floor and cry like someone stomped on your hand. (Well, like another kid might if someone stomped his hand- I think if we stomped your hand, you would not cry the way you cry when we withhold an iphone from you. I think if we did one day stomp on your hand, you would look at us, you would look at your reddened, crushed hand, you would cock your head as if to say, "That seemed somewhat unnecessary," and then you would reach beseechingly for our mobile phone before deciding to cry.)



You are active. You will run right for the stairs, you will run away from us without looking back, you will head just to the place you know we don't want you to go. And some of the time you will look back briefly to send a giggle our way before forging on.



You have big hands and feet and maybe they aren't as big as they are oddly shaped - your pinkies are nearly as long as your pointer, and not only is your second toe longer than your first, but your 3rd is longer than your second. I inspect these hands and feet every night and it still makes me laugh, but because they suit you: strong, goofy, undeniably unique, and somehow not baby-like.



You have been walking for months. You are smart and curious, and climbing - into cabinets and on stools and furniture. You learn really quickly. If we show you how to do something, you try to do it. Even if we don't show you, you usually watch us and then try to do something. You have started climbing into the refrigerator. You follow instructions like, "Go put this book on the shelf." There were about 12 weeks there when you never had less than 3-5 bruises on your forehead. They were all in various stages and colors- something green, something browning, something bright blue. Just as one went away, you nailed a door or chair with your noggin' and earned another one. But that seems to have slowed down..




My favorite part of the day is in the evening around 7pm, when we say to you, "ML, Are you ready for your bath?" Whatever you are doing, you drop it and turn and head up the stairs. You go into the linen closet, you grab a wash cloth that we keep on the low shelf for you to reach, you shut the door, you walk into the bathroom and throw the washcloth into the tub. Then you wiggle until I take your clothes off. Your Mama and I giggle at this charade. Every day.



You say practically nothing, but you have learned lots of signs: more, all done, please, thank you, bath, milk, diaper, brother, drink, eat. You make a lot of noise and can use a Kazoo (for realz), but verbally, there still is only the occasional accidental "Mama". Once I put a bit of brownie in your mouth and the "MMmmmmm" sound was so precisely expressed and so lovingly drawn out, that I'd be lying if I didn't say I felt a little dissed. ["He KNOWS how to say it," I quipped to your mama, "He just doesn't want to say it to us..."]



You sing and shout, but you're indiscriminate in your noise-making. For sure you have "Da" which is your go to word. "Da" is used for everything and when pointing, as if to say, "That...that... what's that". You also have "Daw" (dog), "grrrrrrawww" (the answer to "What does a dragon say?"), and Gee (soft gee not hard G) which is what you call JB. You will look back and forth at your moms to answer the questions "Where's Mama? Where's Mommy?" Showing us that you know we have names, but no matter how many times we beg for you to say, "Ma" or "Mama", you proudly answer with "DA! Dada!!" so. funny.



You make us laugh every day! Usually just by grinning or laughing. You chortle and giggle and belly laugh. If your brother trains his eyes on you and lowers a brow or curls up one of his lips, you belly laugh in anticipatory encouragement. You offer the sweetest, welcoming smiles when we walk into the room. And for all your bluster - pretending you are comfortable walking right away from us in our home- I've seen you stand in a doorway for 10 minutes rather than walk in a place you don't know; only passing through the threshold when you put my forefinger in a vice-like grip.



You cry if the vacuum cleaner is standing silently in the living room, and fall apart (in apparent terror) when we turn it on. You don't mind wrestling with me and JB, but you whimper a little if a tower of cardboard blocks come tumbling down. And yesterday, you shit in the tub... just so it's out there on the internet... I don't want you reading this someday and coming back to me about how perfect you were.



Also, you do this odd thing where you will slap yourself and occasionally bite your hands and arms. It's very exuberant of you, but recently, the thing that you get reprimanded the most for is biting yourself. I know some would say, "Just leave him alone and he'll stop," but left to your own devices, you do draw blood.
Weird, right? I have no idea...

You are about 23 lbs, have 2 bottom teeth and 4 top teeth (and I've already described the fingers and toes). You have the greatest head of curly blond hair. You are very ticklish. All the normal tickle points work, and I can even get a belly laugh by rubbing your cheeks the right way or gently scratching the palms of your hands. You are eating everything now. You get to eat things that we never allowed JB...candy, fried food, chocolate. With him, he just didn't know it existed, but you have a brother who likes treats, and a brother that doesn't mind sharing that much either.



When I look back on these times, I will think of you in the tub- cherub like and soft- splish splashing happily and grabbing at your tiny junk making sure we end our day with sweetness.



We love you more than we can express!!!
Mommy and Mama




JB:

...To be continued

Justice is not vengeance

A jury sentenced a killer to death today in Connecticut on all 6 capital felony convictions.
The result was the only one that could have been reached.
It was just and as Dr. Petit said, "Justice is not vengeance."

Still, this result means nothing. It will not undo one thing that was done.
Nothing will bring back J, H, or M.
Nothing will change what was lost.
Nothing will give back what was taken.
Nothing will fix one of the thousands of things that was broken.

sign. uggh. yuck.

Conversations with kids

JB: Are we going back to the licktory store soon?
Me: What?
He repeats the same question
Me: (trying to figure out what he is saying) Why?
JB: To get another lollipop. (He points to a wrapper discarded on the floor of my car.)
Me: (Racking my brain, trying to remember where we got that tootsie pop)... Oh- The liquor store?
JB: yeah. The liquor store... Can we go there on Friday?
Me: The liquor store on Friday? Sounds like a plan.

Sent from my iPhone

Overheard in our kitchen

JB: Mom, is it still October?
Me: Yes.
JB: Next is November?
Me: Yes.
JB: In November, we're going to need to buy some more tic-tacs.
Me: (Amused) We will?
JB: (Holding up his hands as if to say, "Calm down, don't get excited") Yes. Not now, but in November we will have to go to the store and get some more.

The first Trial

The verdict is in- 16 guilty counts and 1 not guilty (on the charge of 1st degree arson).

I'm glad for these results... but still heart sick.

Now the jury must decide the sentence.

When religious conservatives preach that to be gay is to be disordered and not in the image of God...

At least 5 times in the last 2 months, there have been national stories of teenagers committing suicide. They have become national stories because the kids were bullied, targeted, and harassed because they were gay or perceived as gay, and because for the most part, the parents, friends and communities of those children have spoken out after their deaths to say, "We complained about the bullying but no one did anything to stop it."

Not that one should be picked out as worse than the others, but the most recent was a Freshman at Rutgers University who was secretly recorded by his roommate and another classmate having an intimate encounter with another man boy. Tyler Clementi was 18 years old when he changed his status on Facebook to read: "Jumping off the George Washington Bridge. Sorry." His body was fished out of the water a few days later.

Justin Aaberg, 15, of Anoka, Minnasota, hung himself July 9th

Billy Lucas, 15, of Greensburg, Indiana hung himself in his parents' barn on Sept 9th.

Seth Walsh, 13, from Tehachapi, California, hanged himself from a tree on September 19th and died 8 days later.

Asher Brown, 13, of Cypress, Texas, shot himself in the head on September 23.It is hard to look at these faces and hear these stories and not get sick with regret and dark with rage that we live in a society that tells (especially boy) gay kids that they are not worthy of love and life. In fact, the message in a lot of anti-gay rhetoric is "you don't exist... God did not create you, you are deciding to be immoral- you can be fixed".

To tell someone they can be fixed is to tell them they are broken.

Ask nearly any adult gay man (many to most of the women too) and they will tell you the harassment they faced, the physical danger they were in growing up in school systems across this country was almost too much to manage. Now even though there is more support for gay equality and more awareness and "tolerance" there is this overt backlash and religious movement to proclaim that civil rights for gay citizens are somehow in opposition to the religious rights of zealots. That gay civil rights somehow means the end of religious freedom.

While the LDS and the RCC are pouring millions of dollars into trying to prevent civil marriage in the US and around the world, they are not only perpetuating the bullshit very-fucking-scientifically-negated notion that being gay is a choice, they are seriously over-reaching by extrapolating out that this (determined by conservative clergy, who very often are closeted and sexually repressed) "lifestyle choice" should not get legal "validation" or protection...

'Cause like, yeah... if I choose to eat shellfish, or get a divorce, or not marry the brother of my dead husband, or eat meat on fridays, or have sex during my period (all lifestyle choices that are frowned on by g-o-d in the bible) then I should expect it's okay for my neighbors to beat me to death when they get too upset about my immorality. Oh, and I should expect there to be a referendum on election day where everyone gets to vote on whether or not I am immoral and have a right to exist in my actual form.

Here is how "religious" people are getting led down a dark ally by their leaders that will some day be appropriately equated with the cross-burnings and terrorist activities of the KKK: A cycle of proselytizing against gay identity requires suicide of gay individuals to 1) continue to demonstrate (in the face of practically eroded evidence) that to be gay means to be mentally and spiritually unstable; and 2) since most religions see suicide as the final sin- there is no way a person that killed her/his self could have been spiritually worthy...

See how that works? Chicken, egg, chicken, egg... got it?
Let me try one more time:

• God hates it/you (as determined by me)
• If God hates it/you, we can't exactly expect others to be okay with it/you
• If those others beat you up or harass you... well, see what I mean about you/it being messed up? millions of God-loving people can't be wrong...
  
• What you think you are can't be real because God is not okay with you/it
• If you kill yourself, you must have somehow known this to be true
• oh, and also- those people telling you that it's okay to be gay are confusing you and they are also part of the thing God hates and most of the reason you probably killed yourself is because they confused you...
• No one who thinks that "being gay is okay" should teach you, or talk to you, or be alone with you, or be in a position to influence you because 1) God would not want that, 2) Those people are immoral, unstable, and dangerous 3) They are out to recruit you (since you were NOT created gay, the only way into "gay" is through RECRUITMENT!)
• PS- I'm not intolerant, God is...

see visual aid from Box Turtle Bulletin:


So HERE's the letter that I'm writing to my kids, and the advice that I'm giving to all parents within my reach...

If you enjoyed this rant, you might also enjoy something similar from Dan Savage. If you have never heard of Dan Savage, he is a potty-mouthed gay, sex advice columnist that came up with the greatest idea I have heard in a long time. A YouTube channel called: IT GETS BETTER. This is a way to try to stop kids from killing themselves... a way that any kid with the internet has access to a bunch of videos from LGBTQ adults that can tell them from experience that the best years of your life happen after high school.

The videos are amazing. Here is the video that Dan and his husband started it all with (it is worth 8 minutes of your life- pass it on):

Return to the blog

Okay.
Blog abandonment... I know.

Thing is, I owe both my boys Letters... Those monthly letters that used to come so dependably, and I haven't written them for several months. And the photos... my Lord, the photos we haven't posted... These boys are gorgeous and photogenic and cute and animated... And deciding which photos to post is even more intimidating than worrying that I am not making time to write the words.

So, that's the disclaimer.

But there are other things on my mind these last several weeks.
And I guess these have to come first. They are different kinds of love letters to my boys- updates on what has been going on in our world. October is always a complicated month for me and now, September is just BUSY: All the things that make our family what it is- are celebrated in September: two boys have birthdays and the mom's have anniversaries (yes, plural).

With the autumn as a backdrop, the things happening outside of our house have made me need to take time to think, have made it a little harder to get up out of bed in the morning, and have made me exhausted to the point of wanting to stay a little numb after I get these kids off to bed at night.

First of all, my gram had a stroke 2 weeks ago. She's better, but shaken and not quite herself and most worrisome of all, she's scared (hopefully temporarily) out of the positivity and stoicism that I identify her by.

Next, the trial: There will be way more about this... I have a lot to say about this, but the trial has been going on and the verdict was handed down today. Guilty on 16 of 17 counts. Eligible for the death penalty. I guess we are glad for these results, but still heart sick.

Also, this has seeped into my consciousness, because it is relevant for all parents (and especially as a lesbian mom) and because it is so tragic: At least 5 times in the last 2 months, there have been national stories of teenagers committing suicide. They have become national stories because the kids were bullied, targeted, and harassed because they were gay or perceived as gay, and because for the most part, the parents, friends and communities of those children have spoken out after their deaths to say- we complained about the bullying but no one did anything to stop it.

I have a lot of writing to do... hope you will follow, encourage, and stay with me... I miss attending to the GSO.