Acute

Some days I feel the absence of my parents more acutely than others. They live 6 hours away and have full lives in the Boston suburbs. I caught Monito busting out of the house this morning. When asked, he said he was going out to the Zooma car to go visit Grandpa. Then he cried when I told him Grandpa lived too far away to visit today. Yeah, the crying could have been just from being told no, but still. My parents are busy recording themselves singing some of my kids' favorite songs and stories on CDs so they can be played anytime the babes want a grandparent hit. Dad even scored an old CD player from his local freecycle so they can learn to play the CDs themselves.

Here they are bringing Maurice Sendak's Where The Wild Things Are to life as the dvd plays in the background.
Below, Monito is getting some special grandson attention. With the onset of their fear of 'horns', both kids developed a love of being in the middle; instinctively, they know it is safe.

They may move here, and if it happens it will be none too soon for my family.

Slouching Towards Equality

Wednesday marked the one-year anniversary of the day Homestead Mama and I adopted each other's kids. Thursday California upheld Prop 8.



May 27, 2008 was a beautiful sunny day, we had a wonderful lawyer, a happy judge, and the kids hadn't spilled anything on themselves before the event. We had six amazing letters from our friends and family written with such love in support of the decision to help make the judge's job easier. My parents both travelled to join us in the celebration, and we had a big party and a champagne toast. It is still a momentous occasion in my life, becoming legally bound to my daughter. We'll actually celebrate on father's day, or "Family Day", as it is called chez Homestead.



I know that if you read this blog you are likely empathetic to our situation. Still, though, when the opportunity presents itself be sure to vote, and vote often. If Homestead Mama and I could get married, we wouldn't have had to pay $3,000 and wait 2 years to be the legal parent of a kid we have breastfed since they were born (to another person). There are still states that we shouldn't even drive through lest we have an accident and the hospital chooses to disregard our legal-in-NY adoptions.



There is no agreeing to disagree, no religious justification that makes a hetero couple more/ differently deserving than us - the fact remains that it hurts my children and my family every day that H-Mama and I can't get married.



My love and thanks to all who celebrated with my family last year, support us every day with their friendship and laughter, and support us at the polls. I'm hoping that Obama decides, in the beginning of his second term when he isn't worried about re-election, to work tirelessly towards a federal legalization of gay marriage.

Savages

My kids eat like savages, wandering around, playing, doing gymnastics between bites. While they are pretty good at making it to their mouths and are excellent at sponging messes up, there is inevitable fallout. H-Mama is about to explode at all the sticky fingerprints, gooey spots, and food stuck in odd places. Its our fault, and I'm about to fix it. We spent the morning cleaning, painting, doing puzzles and throwing things away. Right before lunch we boiled some noodles and they helped me make pesto. Tearing the leaves off basil is something they are eminently qualified to do, and dropping ingredients into the food processor is their favorite thing ever. We then (drum roll) sat at the dining room table in high chairs while they ate. Easy. Monito got down after 8 minutes, Pequita had a potty break after 9 minutes but came back for more. Stay tuned - next we learn "May I please be excused?"

Migraine

Blogging will resume when this freaking killer migraine releases me from its chokehold. Its been 2 days so far. It is hard to be upright, let alone a sane, rational parent, when I can barely open my eyes. Allergies, a pox on you!

Sleepy

The kids opted to sleep in their big kid beds again tonight. We read and nursed in the big bed, then moved them into the nursery, tucked them in and went downstairs. At this point they both ran weeping to the gate at the top of the stairs and screamed and wailed. I sighed, looked longingly at my birthday cake waiting for me, and went upstairs. I grabbed my book and a flashlight and went in and sat on the chair in the nursery, not talking to them but just being present while I read; they got it right away and were ok with this new set up. They wanted to get in bed together for a while, and that really helped them calm right down. After about 10 minutes, Monito was all but asleep and Pequita chose to move back into her own bed. I stayed for another 15 minutes while she did her deep breathing, sang quietly to herself and really respected the fact that I wasn't going to interact with her. Finally she dozed off.

Then I snuck downstairs and had a big piece of cake.

Forty

It was a super day to turn 40. Mostly sunny, warm, busy, full of activities and fun. We went out to my favorite breakfast place, at which the kids kept right up with us and ate guacamole & cheddar omelet, fruit crepes, and garlic toast with melted gruyere. I LOVE how they eat. Pequita disappeared after the meal and I found her here, having pulled up a chair next to the live entertainment. The pianist was letting her accompany him as she saw fit; she was having a ball. Then home for naps, yardwork and out to a barbecue where we got to socialize with friends, the kids got to experience some Lord of the Flies action in the sandbox while the parents were drinking sangria, and best of all I didn't have to host it or clean up after it.

Since it is a long weekend, we're having our friend's adorable 12 year old come over tomorrow morning. The kids love him, and he'll be helping us out however he wants, either weeding and planting or playing with the kids. If all goes well, the landscaper will be coming at the end of the week with BIG MACHINES to prepare a chunk of our yard for a deck/terrace outside of where our new French doors will be installed later in the summer. To prepare for this, we have to move several plants to a safe location until after the work is done, then we'll re-landscape the area. They are going to do in one day what it would, realistically, take me a couple years to do. I cannot wait. I will post before and after pictures. There is still so much left to do on our house that it is hard to see how far we've come, but it is a warm, comfortable, funky farmhouse with lots of charm and a ton of individuality. If I could just purge the clutter. I'm actually seriously considering pulling an "HGTV" on a few of our rooms; emptying everything - but everything - out of a room, finishing anything that needs to be completed, like painting, baseboards, etc. and putting back in only what fits and works. It is appealing to think about. Turbo-purge.

The day ended with cake with my sweetie. I wanted the same cake my mom used to make for me every year, strawberry cheesecake. I always thought it was some yummy secret recipe. I've never made it for myself, but after doing so last night I found the exact recipe in the Joy of Cooking called Sour Cream Cheesecake. It was heavenly, and made me feel like I was seven again [in the good way]. Home made from the graham cracker crust up to the layer of sweetened sour cream baked on the top, I may make it for myself every year forever. The rhubarb next to it will become other delicious things in the next few days, like upside down strawberry rhubarb cake, rhubarb sauce for ice cream or pancakes, pie and shortcake. Admit it, you wished you lived closer, right?

Big Kid Beds

We've had the nursery set up with two toddler beds for months. No one has ever slept in that room ever; there has only been lots of playing on beds, on the car mat on the floor, and much diaper changing. All the sleeping [or lack thereof] happens in the master bedroom, where our queen sized bed is flanked by two cribs. Thank goodness our bedroom is huge. We have snuggle time in the big bed, kids go down into their cribs, when they wake up sometime between 11 pm and 3 am they get pulled into our bed for the night.

For the last few nights, both kids have had a really hard time falling asleep. Even though we start stories around 7pm and Monito falls asleep by 8ish, Pequita is averaging 10:30 for her fall asleep time. This includes many summons to H-Mama to come upstairs. I just found out - after months of not being the chosen parent at night - that H-Mama has been nursing her, reading to her after we put her down, all the things I thought we agreed not to do. Apparently, *I* agreed not to do them but she only nodded without conviction.

Tonight, we put them down to much complaining and came downstairs to do some baking and food prep for a barbecue tomorrow. They cried a little on and off, sang to themselves, cried a little more, and then Monito started calling Help! Help, Mommy! with some vigor. I decided to go up, and was met at the top of the stairs by both kids. Out of their cribs and crying hard. Apparently, Pequita decided she was really and truly a big girl and climbed out of her baby cage; she then either helped Monito out of his crib or he just didn't want to be left behind, but he had a little trouble vaulting over the bars and called me up for help. The crying was happening because now that they were out of their cribs they were afraid of 'horns', the catch-all imaginary being that is the source of all their fear. Also, I think they were a bit surprised and scared by their successful rebellion. They have been pushing limits all day every day for weeks. In the course of nursing them into a calm place, we figured out that Pequita wanted to sleep in the nursery in her toddler bed. Monito just wanted to sleep where his sister was. So into the nursery we trooped, set up a fan for them and got them settled. Monito was asleep in a couple minutes and Pequita had her final summons for H-Mama at 10: 45 pm. They are still asleep at 11:53 [and why am I not asleep you might ask? Stupidity, pure and simple.] Talk about a milestone! I have no illusions that it can possibly be this simple, but wouldn't it be nice if this stuck? I'll try to get a picture, but mostly I'm afraid of rocking the boat with my flash.

Advanced Computing

After playing on the library computers, and being shown this site Pequita is keenly excited about doing some computer work. Does anyone have a toddler keyboard /mouse and like it or hate it?

Also, anyone have good toddler computer sites to recommend?

Glass 15% Full or 85% Empty?

After checking out the quality of the thawed embryos, the doc upped my odds to 15 percent chance of success. Huzzah. Alert the presses.



I showed up at 8:30 am with full bladder as required and had to shuffle down the hall in my robe and disposable slippers twice to decant a bit before the doc was ready for me at 10am. I was lying there in a cocoon of warm blankets surrounded by muzak and dimmed lights relaxing as much as one can while wondering how many women in this situation actually wet themselves. By the time the procedure was done I could barely keep from vaulting off the table and sprinting to the bathroom. The doc leaned in close and clasped my hand warmly, smiled and said, "everything looks great. Stay laying here for 20 minutes and visualize peace and success" to which I smiled wanly. I choose to believe that all the jiggling I did trying to keep it together until I could relieve myself only increased my chances of success. I was only able to visualize torrential floods and oceans crashing.



Each time you go in for embryo transfer at this clinic you are given a color printout of the embryos with which they are working that day. Nice propaganda, and it does ramp up the excitement. I appreciate all the effort this office makes to be positive and encouraging. This is far preferable to cold and clinical. BUT. This isn't a magical process its a scientific one; I avoided the mental trap of magical thinking by reading blogs and playing Tetris on my phone during my wait instead of meditating on a process over which I have no control. I'm a rebel, I know.

Early

I forget how much I love quiet late nights, no matter if the quiet allows me to hear crunching snow or crickets. I forget how much I really love quiet early mornings, sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee and ignoring my crossword to watch a robin gather breakfast for her nest full of hungry mouths, or observe the parade of turkeys, groundhogs, rabbits, and deer meander through the salad our new plantings offer before I release the hounds into the yard.
Today, at least, I am remembering.

Naked Noodle

Guess who fell, fully dressed, into the shallows of the icy lake at the park today by accident? She had a super time once we stripped the soaking clothes from her body.

Backpeddling

Open blog, insert foot. I clearly overstated the amount of negativity
I've received, since no one who emailed me distressed at the thought
of hurting my feelings is someone who actually hurt my feelings. I am
so grateful for the support I have. I am sorry to have made people
worry about what they said, how they may have phrased something in a
conversation with me about me trying for a third. My last post was
vague, and I'd like to clarify a bit.

Me sharing my decision to try* to grow my family invites others to
imagine themselves in that position. For most folks, that causes some
chuckling, disbelief, and bemused comments. My posse of mom friends
and close bosom friends** are in that category. This has been ok - it
IS a lot to take on and I know they will rejoice at the new baby
should we get lucky. Even my mom thought it was nuts, and, um, I am
one of three kids.

The people who have hurt my feelings have not seemed to be imagining
themselves with 3 kids, they have seemed genuinely upset that I would
do 'that' to my existing kids, my relationship (wtf?), the earth***,
myself, my career, etc. What they perceive 'that' to be is beyond me;
I am far from the first person to have a 3rd kid, and many folks
actually like a bigger family. Someone that I hang out with fit all
the following comments into a 7 minute conversation we had; I had
mentioned, when she encouraged me to get a tiny sedan, that we were
getting the Mazda 5 because it will hold a 3rd car seat if need be.
"Oh my god, that is so irresponsible. Your older kids will never get
enough of your time. I can't believe you're serious about that - in
this day and age it is stupid to put that kind of burden on yourself
and your family. And it wouldn't even be an accident because you're
gay!".

Ahem.

Those of you who have emailed me an apology because you may have
teased me or asked if I'm sure about this? Really, don't worry.

I don't want anyone to shy away from me about this. Most of the not
talking about it is because even in the best of cases getting pregnant
is fraught with failure. A 10 percent chance of success is not that
great. Blogging about it is easy - I get to control the flow of
information. There's nothing quite so awful as having to tell someone
about a miscarriage when they ask how the baby making is going. In
this sense, I'm an idiot for telling anyone we're trying at all. It is
my curse, and some may argue my blessing, that I am pretty open and
invite folks into my life. If I really wanted full privacy, I'd say
nothing (although my head would explode after a day or two).

*our history of infertility is hard to shake. In pro creation, nothing
is a sure thing, ever.

**if you thought that 'bosom friends' are some weird lesbian thing,
culture up! Read the Anne of Green Gables series.

***I have two child less-by-choice friends who have assured me I am
not over populating the earth. They have given me their baby rights,
so my baby footprint will not be a burden. You know, like emissions
trading to cap pollutants. (Hah ha - get it - emissions trading?).
this means that any other kid I may have has some pretty serious
built-in fairy godmothers.

Third Time is the Charm

I never know how to approach blogging about our attempts at advanced procreation. It is a sensitive matter, and this blog is, sadly, not terribly private. I very much want to blog about the things going on in my life - this blog is my record, my diary, my manner of keeping in touch with friends all over the world, and since we had Pequita, one of the only references that help me remember a huge amount of what goes on in my life. Mommy-brain, indeed. But with the attempt at a third kid? Mostly I don't want to talk about this issue in real life unless I bring it up.

The few people IRL [in real life vs. online, Mom] I've told about our plans to try for a third have almost to the one been aghast, surprised, they've burst into laughter, told me I was crazy, told me to definitely not go through with it. I hear a lot of, "Oh my god, you can have mine! He's acting up so much lately!" Hardy har har. It all feels negative. This means that sadly, most of my IRL friends won't hear any news about this until after I successfully pass an amnio. This means I'll be a bit lonely in the process, which means my desire to blog is all the stronger. I guess I'm a little thin skinned about this. Mostly, I want to point out to everyone with an asshat response that I'm not the bloody first person to try for/ have a third kid. I have wanted this for decades; I know it will be hard/ nuts/ crazy-making. I nonetheless reserve the right to mourn a bit if I fail at this attempt and also to whine a bit about how awful some of it is should we be so lucky to succeed.

I have been trying to talk myself out of wanting a third kid since I delivered Monito; there are a lot of reasons not to, but just as many good reasons to go ahead and give it a go. I really feel that I was born for this. I am good at it. We already have an embarrassment of riches - two of the most beautiful, clever, athletic children ever. If we stop with that, my life will be rich. If we are lucky enough to have a third? My lifetime dreams will be coming true.

I am doing an unmedicated FET cycle, and I will be transferring two 5-day thawed blasts on Saturday morning with a 1O% chance of successfull pregnancy. We'll have to bring the kids to the appointment since we can't get a trusted person to sit with them at the ass-crack of dawn. I've had no meds until now, and since ovulation I'm doing the low-dose aspirin, PIO [progesterone in oil] injection routine until transfer; after that we'll keep an eye on my levels and deal with any issues as they come.

Tonight Homestead Mama went to bed early with a bad stomach ache, which hopefully won't manifest into Monito's bug. I was unable to convince her to give me my PIO shot before she collapsed, so I had to [gulp] give it to myself. Large bore needle. Viscous oily med. Thank goddess for my ample behind - the needle is most of the length of my thumb. Ouch.

Big Girl

Pequita is using the mouse to click and drag a Barney game at the library. She is so proud, and repeating loudly the praise the computer gives at the end of each 'match the vegetable' game, "GOOD JOB, MOMMY! WELL DONE, MOMMY! FUN FUN FUN!".

This is a riot. She is so excited by this new kind of success. We'll have to start looking for home games and a kids keyboard/ mouse for the computer, maybe for her birthday in October. (Hear that, Grandma?)

Cheery

He may be still sick, but he is cheered by his new helmet and insisted on wearing it shopping.

Green in the Gills

Homestead Mama out of town, no help on hand, one boob almost out of commission due to some weird occurrence of blocked ducts that I am almost over - THAT is when the boy gets a stomach virus. He woke up at the usual 10 pm-ish for his nursing/snuggle time, then sat up and hurled all over me, the couch, and the carpet. Oy. We cleaned up, laid down some waterproofing on the bed and went to sleep. We were up again at 2, 4, and 6. He had such explosive diarrhea that I had to wash his hair in the tubby. He tolerated all the ministrations and tending very well, clearly out of sorts. All he wanted to do was nurse and snuggle. He was up by 7:30, but Thomas the Tank Engine came on and he watched it with no volume happily while Pequita and I dozed. I called H-Mama in the Adirondacks as soon as it was a decent hour begging her to hurry her work up and come home to spell me. I was pretty sure that more than one puking person at a time would have put me over the edge.

After a lunchtime of only ginger ale ["Spicy soda, Mommy! More spicy soda!"] Monito crashed for nap in the living room, and Pequita soon followed. We slept in the living room because every single stitch of bedding, all my towels, and all my chux pads were soaked with assorted bodily fluids. Also the carpet runner in the master bedroom, but who's counting? So I did laundry while the bairn slept for two hours.After nap they played with the new Playmobil camping set. It was fortuitous that I bought it on the off chance they'd sit still long enough to play with it; Monito had no energy and was happy with it, and Pequita just loves the tiny parts these days. Since she ate only a half of a banana today, I'm pretty sure she's about to fall prey to the bug as well. The house rule is don't encourage them to eat if they seem ambivalent.

By the time Homestead Mama arrived home, Monito was feeling better enough to join in on the mowing extravaganza.



Here's hoping we make it through the night uneventfully.

email to my parents

Dear Mom and Dad,

I wish you were awake so I could call you both and chat. I am awake; it is 12:41 am and Monito has just fallen asleep after throwing up vigorously at 11pm. He is asleep now, but I am loathe to bring him up to bed so he can throw up there, too, so I am watching Cosby Show reruns and biding my time. I reek of puke. Pequita is due to wake up in the next little bit and want to be nursed back to sleep in my bed by Homestead Mama, and H-Mama is at her dad's until sometime tomorrow. I'm not sure how to get the day's worth of food Monito just upchucked out of the wool living room carpet, and I KNOW he'll throw up more soon in my bed. Sigh. It would be nice to commiserate now over the phone, or better yet know that you could pop over tomorrow and sit with them while I get a nap, since I will most certainly be tired. I can't wait until you have some kind of home nearby. It is not ONLY a selfish desire; the kids talk of you daily and crave your presence even more than I do.

Every day of being a mom makes me more aware that you guys did a great job with us, and I know it wasn't easy. You both had a lot going on in your own lives with which to keep up. I am grateful for all that you DID do, and still do. I appreciate your willingness, acceptance, and love. And I am grateful that you will make time in your day - any time - to talk over speakerphone to me about parenting and all its foibles and the kids about their potty escapades and successes; it means the world to [me] them.

I love you, and miss you every day that you aren't here.

Homestead Mom

And Then...

Right outside the doc's office was this. I will never have a difficult time getting the kids to come to the docs with me. Backhoes and a mall with a carousel only a couple miles away - heaven on earth.

(No) Thanks For The Memories

Here we are, sitting in the crappy overflow exam room at the docs waiting for the dildo cam, or 'po-po x-ray' as we call it in front of the kids. The very same room that about 3 years ago to the month I found out that I had miscarried twins. Good times. My whole soul cringed as we were ushered into THIS room - amazing how the memories take over. Nice to have the kids here to help heal that piece of my mind.

Great Plans in the Works

I want to make my own cheese, then make my own pizza. I'll let you know if I find the time.

Enjoy the blog this is lifted from, though, it is in my regular reading rotation these days - I'm really enjoying it.

Overload

Boy, it has been an intense week. Both kids are really pushing
boundaries, testing authority (mine) and developing in leaps and
bounds. There is a lot of screaming that is inconsolable; mostly this
starts when Pequita is foiled in some way, or - god help me - I HELP
her when she wants to do something by herself. Once she is wailing
with tears streaming, snot bubbling, body stiff and uncuddleable, then
Monito decides that he is also stressed and joins in the festivities,
matching his sister in volume and vigor. If Monito starts the cycle,
then his sister chimes in after a while. Ack.

To their credit, they *mostly* save the really good tantrums for the
house. I like to think that they feel safe there and can relax into
the morass of feelings that must be swirling through their brains in
times of meltdown. I do give them space to feel all their rage and
frustration, to make a lot of noise and express themselves in whatever
way they need to, but have also created a time line so that this
doesn't keep going. We have a house rule now that they are allowed
to carry on for a little while in the general population, but if they
can't pull it together pretty quickly AND refuse any help/ comfort,
then they have to go upstairs and finish their fit in their room. This
generally is pretty unpopular and brings on a hastened end to the
episode. Monito hasn't ever been escorted upstairs, but Pequita has
had a few trips to solitary. Usually she is sniffling and calling to
me from the top stair within 3 minutes. I want to point out that the
refusal to accept any comfort is the key to being sent upstairs- I
feel awful and punitive sending them away from me and I hate to do it,
but when they are really over the top they are typically biting and
hitting too, and I can't let them do that to me and their sibling. I
guess this is the part of parenting that is hard now but pays off?
The part that parents of kids who end up on "Super Nanny" can't bring
themselves to do and end up creating little tyrants and monsters? It
makes me feel like a bad parent, wrong, lonely, punitive and just
generally unpleasant all around. It is the thing that makes me doubt
myself more than anything.

EXCEPT for the spanking. Whoops! Did I just say that? Yup, I've gone
there. Monito is the only recipient of this little 'correction'
technique of which I am so ashamed. A couple times for running right
into moving traffic, scaring the bejebus out of me and the oncoming
driver and then laughing. I know he isn't laughing because he thinks
its funny; he probably doesn't know what to think or do. And I imagine
the level of excitement I am exhibiting is overwhelming to him. BUT it
can't happen. Pequita is not a darter-into-traffic, or the
what-else-can-I-stick-into-the-electrical-outlet kid, Monito is. Last
night I spanked him because he climbed on the table and knocked over
the $400 stained glass lamp* that he knows is off limits. I heard it,
walked into the living room and asked what had happened, and both kids
pointed to Monito; I lost it. In my limited defense, I've been a solo
parent for much of the last 5 days with no break or help. Homestead
Mama's grandma had a stroke last week and H-Mama has spent three of
the last five days hours away spending time with Lillian as she slips
away, either staying away overnight or not returning until after we
are all asleep. This is as it should be, but I've been a little thinly
stretched at times. After the lamp incident, later in bed while
snuggling and reading books, I talked about it with the kids and
apologized for getting so angry and losing control, but I still wish I
could have a do-over. I was up at 6:30 this morning and got to see my
beloved as she was leaving for work, and she pointed out, gently, that
since he owned up to the naughty act it may have been better to talk
it out and not punish the honesty. Duh. That didn't even occur to me
at the time.

My parents are arriving tomorrow for the long weekend, and I'll get a
respite. I've also arranged for a friend to start babysitting once or
twice a week starting tomorrow morning at 8am so I can clean a bit
before my parents arrive. We'll see how it goes.

--
Sent from my mobile device

Tweet tweet

Can you let me know if you read and you twitter?  I just joined with even more trepidation than with Facebook.  I'll tell you my login if you tell me yours...

Cupcake

Pequita is getting better at sentences. Why, just this afternoon I said, "Ok, kids, time to pack up our healthy whole wheat snacks and go the playground" and she remarked, "Mommy, not all done finish cup cake yet".
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Ho Ho Ho

We are so lucky. Not only was Santa still there, but he had been joined by his buddy the Easter Bunny. She lights up too.
I also found a nice sturdy stool to use for teeth brushing. The kids have been perfecting their body checking skills to jockey for space on the single stool we have. Now maybe we'll have more peaceful brushing.

Oh, I can't wait for the next holiday.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Siesta (part deux)

All right. Behold the annoying one in all his face-stuffing glory.

We are parked outside of the thrift store because yesterday I declined to purchase a 4' high plastic Santa that plugs in and glows. Monito spent 15 minutes hugging him, patting the toy horse in the toy bag and exclaiming "Santa!". It wasn't until I got home and Homestead Mama had a similar response that I realized the size of my gaff. When the elder child wakes from her nap we'll go back in and see if any other sucker plunked down their $5.99 for Santa before us. I'm taking this time to quietly mourn the loss of good taste at the Homestead.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Siesta

Angelic, no? Looking at my sleeping babies cracks my heart with love, longing, hopes, amazement, gratitude.

We'll not mention the other one who is right now NOT sleeping after 45 minutes of nap but is instead stuffing his face with cheese, cucumber spears and strips if hotdog that I must first peel for him. (That is real love).
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Zoomah Love

My new car just got 28.6 mpg in a mix of around-town and lite highway driving. With intermittant a/c use AND sitting in the parked but running car for a few hours to keep napping toddlers napping. I love it!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Emotional Project

I am on day 3 of this bad cold, the kids are on day 1.5 or so; H-Mama
hasn't gotten it yet. Sometimes she misses these things entirely, but
usually we eventually drag her down into the bacteria soup in which we
stay-at-homes wallow.

Last night we found out she got a good raise, and through odd events
in upper-upper management, a good shot at a promotion into her bosses
job right in her current office. The tidy part of my brain would like
to point out that her raise more than pays for our new monthly life
insurance bill, which is lovely. So we celebrated with a nice pasta in
homemade red sauce with meatballs from the freezer, a bottle of
Vaqueyras and a rebellious bit of movie watching that had us up until
almost 1 am. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Pequita woke up at 1:30 and was
hungry. I took her down stairs for some leftovers, and she wanted to
work on her new 'school work' books* I just bought her. For almost 2
hours. She and I didn't fall back to sleep until around 4:30. Monito
was up at his usual 7am, but deigned to watch Curious George on DVR
for over an hour while I lolled on the couch half comatose. I think he
really liked having me topless and in a stupor - play, nurse, play,
nurse, snuggle, repeat. I just woke up** from a 2 hour nap*** with
both kids still sleeping soundly alongside me to the faint melodious
and much maligned sound of the rider mower doing its thing under
H-Mama's guidance in our yard. Our nap gave her enough time to get the
spring tune-up done, filters cleaned out, gas changed, tires pumped up
and ready for action. Spring always comes too fast to get the mower
ready before it is time for the first mow - this year, that day was
today and she's getting it done. I am so pleased! I love a tidy yard
and I'd like to point out how much easier it is to scoop poop from
short grass. 'Nuff said.

*Pre-K workbooks I saw at the bookstore when I wasn't finding any
gay-themed books. They are full of simple picture matching, rhyming
words, and letter/ number activities, with some sticker fun thrown in.
She absolutely loves them. I didn't really know how ready she was for
workbooks! Aside from crippling exhaustion, I really enjoyed spending
some quiet time alone with her.

**have I mentioned that I love my smart phone with unlimited internet?
I blog mostly from it in stolen moments.

***Pequita woke up as usual after the first hour snuffling for the
boob like a truffle-trained pig. As she latched on I patted her
lovingly on the butt only to realize that we let her come to nap on
our bed in panties, not a diaper. She is only mildly potty-trained,
and sleep is not a controlled time. I yanked her out of bed, had a
pull-up on her and was back to nursing in bed before she could even
work up a proper cry.

Update of the post that won't end: we are now cresting the third hour
of nap; it is 3:45. Pequita just awoke, nursed for a few minutes on
each boob and sat straight up asking for Mama. I pointed to my ear and
then the backyard and waited or her response. (We've been working on
the senses, and when the kids hear something now they touch their ear
and name it. When they see something they usually say 'I 'py' because
we play the I Spy game constantly). Pequita listened, put together all
the info in her brain and said "Mama mow-mow eh yahd! My-ah mow-mow
too!". (My-ah fills in for me, mine, and I for both kids. 'Eh'
represents most prepositions, like in, on, and, etc.). So I got her
shoes on, showed her H-Mama out the back window and sent my big girl
downstairs to let herself out of the house to mow with her beloved
Mama. I watched, smiling, from the window seat in the master bedroom
as she strode across the yard and positioned her tiny body in the path
of the mower, as H-Mama stopped the machine and got the extra ear
protection for Pequita, and as they got back on together. I am back in
bed alongside still-sleeping Monito. It is highly unusual for him to
sleep the night really well and then sleep for 3 hours and 15 minutes
(and counting) during his nap. He is sick, but maybe he's got his own
little emotional project brewing.

If / when he wakes up, we'll go down and plant stage 3 of Project
Privacy, another 3 3' high holly shrubs I bought at the garden store
to continue to fill in our hedge along the busier road. I can't wait
until they are 6' tall.

Final update: he woke after 3.5 hours. A new record.

--
Sent from my mobile device

Author, Author

As soon as we graduated from super simple baby books it became obvious that there was a serious problem. So many books about straight families, and most of the few LGBT friendly books out there are so do-goody that they are saccharine. (Can anyone make recommendations otherwise?). If ANY of the dads are even vaguely gender neutral, metro sexual, or - easiest of all - animals, then I make them female and voila, a lesbian family structure for my kids to relax into and identify with. (Goldilocks and the Lesbian Bears is a regular on our bedtime story list.)

Yesterday Pequita brought me the only book in the food coop play area, about Father's Day. Luckily, the little bunny selected plants and yard tools as presents for his bunny dad, and it was easy to transpose the pronouns into Mommy and Mama. But I had to think hard with a sick headachey brain, and I stumbled several times, and sheesh, how annoying.

I have grown weary of having to track the kid's books closely as I read them to carefully make sure we are represented alongside the dads. We have lots of gay friends with kids, so the kids see families like their own, but I want more fiction books for them. So I decided to write them and self publish them. I guess they'll be about our exact family structure, and maybe I'll even illustrate them. My sister and mom are both excellent artists, so maybe I can wrangle one of them to help. Maybe I'll even sell the books if they end up having appeal to anyone other than our family. But for right now, we just need some books about a sister and brother with two moms. And maybe a dog named Cosmo.

Safety Net

Around Christmastime I realized that if Homestead Mama met an untimely demise, I'd be jobless in a recession with no huge stock portfolio or trust fund with which to support my kids in the manner to which they have become accustomed. They may love the Zoom-ah Cah (Mazda in Monito-speak) but after living in it for a few weeks they would likely have tired of it. So we signed up for life insurance for us both. I am actually sleeping better because of this. It was overdue by about 3 years.

Urban Living

We spent 7 hours downtown yesterday in the stroller whilst the Volvo got new brakes. Quite the shift from weeks at home. Monito timed out of every place we went, causing us to leave quickly due to misbehavior; this caused him to scream. Leaving each place she was so calmly enjoying - the diner, the kid consignment store, the food coop play area, the coffee house, the playground - because of her brother's naughtiness caused Pequita to scream and cry. We made quite the picture of familial bliss about town. I can tell who has children by who smiled at me empathetically and who sneered at my loud snot-covered family.



I totally take credit for the fact that my kids nap at the same time every day, whether at home, in the car, or in the stroller. I chalk this up to the fact that I feel a special sort of panic when one is rested and the other isn't. It is virtually impossible for an afternoon and evening to go well with uneven naps. Co-napping is a manufactured occurrence that is based on a proprietary blend of white noise, nursing, pacifiers, pretzels, singing, threats, very close observation and timing. I would totally medal in a synchronized sleeping event if one existed.