I'm Home!

Dude, the Mass Pike never looked so good.

Wow!

Well, Ms. Scary was just as rude to our social worker, Ms. Stork, today as she has been to Clementine. She is being quite impossible. I think I may look into becoming a member of their board of trustees (if they have one) once we adopt Hester. What goes around, comes around! he he he he

Busted

Snapdragon, his wife, his in-laws, and I went to the Denver Art Museum's new wing that features modern art. It was interesting, weird, and disturbing. My favorite was when all of us were discussing a instillation of 18 hubcaps on a wall. We were unsure of the artistic message and how it is any different from the road side vendors of lost hubcaps. Anyway, most of us walked away from it, leaving Snapdragon. He turned to a man beside him saying something about how he did not get how it was art and the man turned out to be the artist. Ooops.

Calls

Yesterday, I called every one of our friends that I had on my cell phone and left messages about what is going on. I then asked them to call Peaches and check on her this weekend so she did not feel so alone while I was so far away. Each time Peaches and I talk, she gives me the latest roll call of friends who have called, offered to hang out, offered to have her come over for dinner, etc. I have said it before and I will say it again, Peaches and I are blessed with amazing friends who are so loving and caring. If you are reading this right now, this post is for you. Thank you!

UFO or Dyslexia

I was telling some friends here in Colorado about the birth mother being in the hospital and that I may have to rush home. I was trying to explain what was going on and said she had a placenta abduction instead of abruption. What sort of crop circle would be left when a placenta was abducted?

Holy Fuck!

So Peaches gets a call this morning that the birth mother's placenta has abrupted and she is in the hospital on steroids. We could be mothers TODAY!!! To top it off, I am in Colorado for my brother's graduation! I am so torn; I have been planning to come to this for a year and really want to be here for Snapdragon but I don't want Peaches to do all this alone!! Right now, we are leaving it at continuing my trip as planned as we wait for more developments. Also, now seeing my parents is so not a worry. Who cares what they may or may not say. I have a baby on the way!

I'll say it again.
Holy fuck!

Travel Fun

So I don't know if anyone is reading this post after the last one but I thought I would share my FUN trip details.

• I took a cab from home to the train station and he drove so SLOW! I thought I was going to miss the train. I made it to the train with three minutes to spare.
• I sat in something not right on my seat so I had to change my pants and undies at South Station.
• I get to the ticket counter at the airport with 45 minutes until take off. My credit card does not pull up the reservation on the e-ticket thing. I talk to the lady and she says, oh that is USAir Shuttle. They are the next counter down.
• I go to USAir Shuttle and it does not work. Again I ask the lady and she says, Oh, that is a United flight. They are in the next terminal. Now, you must understand I have the mother of all colds with a horrific cough right now. But I booked it across the parking lot and through the terminal to C terminal.
• I got on the plane with about 5 minutes to spare.
• Everyone gave me dagger eyes for being the sick one on the plane. Hey, I have done it too when I sat next to sick people on planes. It also was wicked hot on each flight. But I did get to eat some delicious party snacks and watch the a movie.
• I wait and wait for my luggage. It did not make it. I ask that kind lady at the counter and she says it is coming an hour and a half later and gives me a $10 food certificate for my wait.
• I get to the car rental agency and they had canceled my reservation. Some how my reservation was made for 10 AM not 6 PM (which I did type in) and it was cancelled. There were no compact or economy cars so I got a Dodge Charger for almost $80 more.
• I drove to my friend's house and was greeted by a wonderfully loving family who took great care of me.

I guess, all is well that ends well.

Who is the Reason for the Season

Good times at the potato house

Clementine (singing): "Santa loves the little children."
Hashbrown: "The correct words are 'Jesus loves the little children.'"
Clementine: "Jesus, Santa, aren't they the same person? I mean, the song says, 'He knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good...' See, they are pretty much the same person."
Hashbrown: "Not really."
Clementine: "Santa is a stalker; he knows if you are asleep or awake. Santa is scary."

Later

Hashbrown (singing): "Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world
Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight..."
Clementine: "It does not go like that!"
Hashbrown: "Yes it does."
Clementine: "That is so racist. You don't sing it that way, do you? Red, yellow, oh my god!"
Hashbrown: "I know but that is how children still sing it."
Clementine: "That is so fucked up."

Good And Bad

So the birth family saw our letter and photo album and really liked what they saw. They were both happy that we want to parent their child. So we passed that hurdle, thank god. Next, we will be hearing from Ms. Scary at the birth parents' adoption agency to talk about money, forms, get consent to talk with two other doctors, and about making arrangements to talk to the birth mother on the phone and then meet the birth parents. It is not certain but it is looking good that we will be the parents of this child. Cool, huh?

The other good news is that my mole was so not cancer. It only had mild to moderately abnormal cells and they were too close to the edge of the original biopsy. She had to shave some more off of the site to hopefully remove all of the abnormal cells. I'll find out in a week or so how the pathology report came out and if I have to go again for another shaving.

A coworker who is a friend found out this morning that her brother died. He had MD. Clementine's and my thoughts go out to her and her family.

Crying Over Shattered Deodorant

I am a wee bit stressed out lately. So many big things are happening all at once and this Saturday, I lost it. Let me tell you about it all.

1. Over the last ten days, our lives have changed dramatically. We are in the consideration of the birth parents for this child to be born early February. We are the only parents being considered and we will hear in the next few days if they want to meet us. If it works out, we have to get the funds together in very little time and prepare for the baby. We have done so much but I worry that there is so much left to do.
2. Thursday, I fly out to visit Snapdragon and see him graduate with his pre-med degree. I also get to visit my dear friend Chica, Psycho Kitty, and Rae. The down side is that I will be seeing my parents. I so do not want to see them or talk with them about the adoption. They are so very unpleasant. So that part of the trip is wicked stressful.
3. I had two moles removed about a month ago. Two weeks ago, I got a call from the doctors office saying that they "could not rule out cancer" in one of the moles and they needed to "shave the site down." It was clear that I was talking to the secretary and she did not have any good answers about what "could not rule out cancer" meant. I plan to find out tomorrow. Deep down in my brain, I have a very strong belief that it is not that serious. But my god, hearing the C word in relation to your body is quite frightening. This one tipped the scales over to the side of crazy Saturday.
4. Also, over the past two weeks , I had one abstract for a conference turned down as well as a manuscript for a journal. I have had maybe two rejections of conference abstracts EVER in my career, and I present a lot. My other three manuscripts were accepted for publication with minor changes. This one, one of the reviewers seemed to have it out for me. I revised that damn thing four times for her. My rejection letter contained the comments from both reviewers. The evil one had five things she did not like, things like arguing that it is not actually a pilot study. The other reviewer said it was ready to publish. This is my first manuscript to be rejected. I know it is all part of the process but I feel like I have lost my golden touch. I realize this may seem rather petty or dumb in relation to the other things like adoption and mole cancer worry, but these goals have a very important meaning to me.
5. Christmas is coming and that is always a stressful time. I don't feel at home with my in-laws. Now don't get me wrong, they are super nice and caring. It just is so very different from what I grew up with. I miss my family a lot during the holidays but know what I miss does not exist anymore. I love Peaches and my private celebration of Christmas. That is so wonderful. The spirit of the holiday lives in that wonderful evening each year. There is no complaining about gifts, yelling that someone ruined the green beans, fear that someone will not like a gift and berate you, or being left out or passed over because I am gay.
6. We were planning a party and we needed to clean the house, cook the cookies, make the other food, and get ready.
7. Oh, my period started that day and I was severely PMS-ing with the erratic moods.
8. My cold from THANKSGIVING is still around and getting worse.

So, I was so crazed that I picked stupid fights with Peaches. I tried to rein it in but it kept busting through. Finally, I was getting ready and reached for my crystal rock deodorant. It fell into the sink, slid across the bowl of the sink and did an Evil Kenevil jump over the counter onto the trash can lid where it shattered into a zillion shards of odor killing sharpness. I stared at it and started sobbing. It was immensely stupid to cry over my deodorant but then that really was not what I was crying over, now was it.

Today is day two of my period so the irrational, hormone influenced emotions are gone. I have apologized to Peaches and together we processed "like good social workers" the whole fight picking incidents. She is a wonderful woman and I know I am very lucky to have her love.

The cookie party went well. Our many wonderful friends we had not seen in a while came and it was just so nice to sit in the room with loving friends. We saw a few more this morning for breakfast. Everyone is so supportive of the adoption, asking about it, offering help, expressing excitement at the prospects of this baby.

Tomorrow, I find out about the mole. I'll let you all know.

I got my plans on how to deal with my parents. Chica and Psycho Kitty are coming to Snapdragon's graduation so that will help buffer the parents. My therapist helped me rehearse what to say to set limits. It will be ok. It is just scary when you only have seen them twice in six years and both times sent you to therapy afterwards.

As for the manuscript, I have another journal picked out and just need to work on undoing the stupid edits of the evil reviewer.

I am going to Price Chopper tomorrow to buy another crystal deodorant.

Nuts

Clearly, I am loosing it. This morning, I woke up to Neil Diamond's "Turn on Your Heartlight" playing in my head.

Lord, it is late and I am over exhausted.

Oh my God, what a weekend. We assembled a kick ass photo album for the birth family as well as a letter telling them all about us, why we are pursuing adoption, how we are able to care for child with medical needs, and our supportive community. For the part about what we believe in, I felt like I was writing the freaking Nicene Creed. We believe in ….. Oh, Catholic joke!

Oh yeah, lurkers, why not comment! It is fun and it may start an interesting dialogue.

Soooooooo........

Wednesday, I am in a meeting when I get the “EMERGENCY: There is a BABY for us” page (911911911) (original, yes?). I get up all calm and tell the teacher, I need to use her phone. My coworkers keep discussing patients and the upcoming Christmas carnival as my shaky hands dial the home phone number. Clementine answered and her voice told me immediately that something serious was going on.

So here is the skinny.

A private agency has an expectant mother making an adoption plan. The baby has medical issues very similar to what we were expecting from a Department of Social Services Adoption. The family has been turned down by a few adopting families already due to the medical issues. So our social worker, Ms. Stork, thought it may be a good match because we are cool with that. So Clementine and I discussed it and decided to take it to the next step.

The next step involved a very large fax (69 pages) of the birth mother’s medical records and adoption application. It was heart wrenching to read her paragraphs to the baby about why she has chosen adoption. We also found out the baby’s due date and that it is an Aquarius (same as me). We reviewed these and then gave a copy to our future pediatrician to review. We want to have professional views on the possible outcomes for this child based on the medical history.

Since it is private, it has costs attached that we were not expecting. Clementine is fantastic and has already applied for multiple grants and identified possible loans for us to apply for. She also has born the brunt of the contacting people which wasn’t too bad until today. She talked to the birth mother’s social worker who was not pleasant at all. She also raised the price on us but she evidently does not know she is dealing with Clementine, the big C*.

A huge barrier that stands before us is whether the birth family is down with the G-to-the-A-to-the-Y parents. We also need more consents to we can talk to the birth mother’s doctor and that of her child. Then if everyone is cool with this stuff, we will meet.

This weekend, we must put together a “Dear Birthparents” letter and a photo album of 40-60 photos!! Fun times in la casa de las papas**! Wish us luck.

I will for sure be writing more about the process as we learn more, as we progress, and as I have time. Thank you all in advance for your support and ears through this crazy road we call life!

* Big C stands for Big Consumer which means she is great at getting kick ass deals on things.
** House of Potatoes

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

There are not enough hours in the day. I was nonstop all day yesterday, slept 4 hours, and now am back up getting ready for work. And today will be just as full and intense as yesterday. I have so much to say but the timing is not right.

Optimism Ahoy!

I am such a freaking optimist, it makes me ill. Rather unexpectedly, we got a package in the mail from my parents. Yes, the parents who did not respond to my email telling them we are adopting. Apparently, while abroad, they thought of us and bought us each a silk scarf from France. They sent them to us, addressing the package to both Clementine and I as well as using our correct hyphenated last name. The note with it was simple and kind. We were shocked. Actually we were shocked because the scarves were folded up to be about a 6x6 inch square, the size of a quilt submission for our 100 Good Wishes Quilt. We froze and stared at the cloth saying "Oh my God, how did they find out about the quilt?" You see, being the estranged daughter, I did not tell my parents about the quilt. Anyway, I digress.

Once we realized they were scarves and a gift, we relaxed. But then optimism began to creep into my mind. At first I was saying to my self, "This is kind of them to think of us. It is a limited gesture from them but in their way, they are trying." Within a day or two, my internal talk became, "Maybe they have changed and they want to embrace our marriage and our child as part of the family. Maybe they will be grandparents to our child and be loving to Clementine and I." OH MY GOD!!!! This is my road to demise. For some people, it is drinking. For others, drugs. For others, too many blow up Christmas things on their lawn. From me, it is optimism for change in others.

I guess, this is what makes me a good therapist. If I did not believe in the power to change and that people have a natural tendency to move towards health and change, I would be a piss poor humanist music therapist. But that freaking sunny side of things view really back fires when I am trying my best to keep up healthy boundaries (limited contact) with my parents in order to protect myself from being hurt. It is that freaking optimism that is my Achilles heel.

I must keep my eye on the big picture.

Pregnancy Fun

So, while at the conference, our social worker sent us the final draft of our homestudy for our final look over to make sure the info was correct. So Thursday night, I miss the opening session because Peaches and I are on the phone looking over the homestudy together. The email from the social worker said that it was approved and that we were officially waiting/pregnant on paper. I was a wee bit freaked out that it finally was into that phase of the adoption process. So when Peaches and I finished, I went down to the auction to join my friends and let them know.

Hey, you wanna know what is wicked fun to do? Walk into a big group of music therapists (some you know and many you don't know) who are near a open bar at a function and say really loud, "Oh my God, I just found out I am pregnant! I need a drink!!" The looks you get are fantastic!

Conference Highlights

Oh, girls and boys, I had a BAD cold. It is nearly gone now and I feel more like myself again.
So, let me summarize things from the big music therapy conference in Kansas City.

1. I had meetings upon meetings to attend but most were not the type where you are so bored that you want to poke your eyes out with your pen. No, actually they were entertaining. In one meeting, we were waiting to hear if there were any new charges for us so we all started talking about our home lives. It was weird but nearly everyone in that room had adopted a child. They were all giving me advise about adoption and telling stories about traveling to get their kids or telling their kids they are adopted. I was so shocked and thrilled that there is such a supportive community right at my fingertips.
2. My presentation went well. I think that I caught my cold then from one of my co-presenters; she was quite ill and rather voiceless. It is fine; I don't begrudge her at all. She is wicked smart and talked about tweaking the presentation and "taking it on the road." My response was "Hell yeah!" or was it "sure."
3. I saw my SMWC buddies! We had lots of fun talking, drinking, goofing off, and listening to a crazy trio! I feel so close to those friends. We went through 2 intense week long trainings in our masters program which cemented our friendships for life. Two in particular, L1 and L2, are just dear friends and when I am with them, I feel so loved and at home. I am so grateful to have such wonderful friends but am always so sad that we live so freaking far apart. Also, thankfully, they find some things that happen at that conference to be weird too so I have someone to turn to and say "Did she really sing that?" A shout out to L1 who just got engaged to a very wonderful man! Way to go! Another shout out to L2 who should consider the whole lesbian wife thing!
4. Each year at conference, I see my old profs from my undergraduate degree. I still feel like I have to prove myself to them and want to show off. It is crazy cause it has been like over 13 years since I graduated. But I saw one in the hall and I said hi and then blurted out, "Did you see my article in the JMT?" I was like a freaking puppy looking for a pat on the head. He said he had and congratulated me. Later we talked about me guest lecturing at the school when I am in the area. I hope I grow out of the "puppy needing praise" phase soon.
5. Some straight man flirted with me. Canada can attest to this. She saw it all. This has not happened in years and years. I think the last man to flirt with me, straight man that is, was the psychotic straight men at the state hospital where I worked. I did not know what to do.
6. Canada and I shared many meals of sushi and a couple martinis! Oh, we took a fantastic training together on NICU work. It is always fantastic to see her. A shout out to you, Canada! Did all the Bath and Bodywork stuff weigh too much for the airline? Did you have to pay extra?
7. I procured another speaking gig (for money)! I was also recruited quietly for a doctoral program. I am not pursuing that yet.
8. The lobster slippers I made for the silent auction were such a huge hit. The package they were bundled with went for $125. And I have already gotten one request for rhinoceros slippers!
9. I had dinner and drinks with my first lover and her wife. It was great to see them again. And yes, Peaches knew we were getting together for dinner. NBD. It was 18 years ago. Ancient history!
10. It is all such a blur now but I met lots of great people, heard about some fantastic work, and networked a ton.

Great News

For those of you who do not read my wife's blog as well, our home study was approved. We will be parents.

Dear Parents of the Toddler on Both of my Flights

I had the extreme displeasure of sitting in front of your child on the way to Kansas City and back. I have three suggestions for you when you travel on a plane with that child.

1. Your child should use his indoor voice. The rest of us may not be thrilled to hear the shrill expansive vocalizations of his dear voice for four hours straight. (Please note that I am not talking about children who are crying. I am talking about a child just talking and playing.)
2. Do not allow the said child to kick the seats in front of him or repeatedly smack the tray table.
3. The plane is not a gymnasium so please do not allow your child to run up and down the aisle screaming, stomp loudly, or bother other travelers.

Thank you.

Hashbrown

Away

I will be away from this blog for a week as I must travel to a conference in Kansas City. I blogged a few entries today to make up for the time I will be away. I hope you have a great week.

Superstar

Peaches is a superstar! For five minutes at least, a child in her care bellowed "I want my dad!" at the top of his lungs. Peaches remained calm and helped the boy to calm down. She is amazing!!

Best Laid Plans

I have been planning for at least six months to go to my brother's graduation this December. This is my brother, Snapdragon, with whom I am very close to. After working as a massage therapist for years, he decided to go back to get his pre-med bachelors degree and then to go to Chiropractor school. In Dec., he will be graduating with a double major in chemistry and biology. He has a 4.0 average. I am so proud of him!

The beauty of the trip to his graduation was that no one else in my family was planning to go. I was thrilled to share such an important day with Snapdragon without the stress of the the rest of the the Potatoheads. Snapdragon was really excited that he and his wife would have all that time to spend with me as well.

That changed the other day when I called him to chat. Evidently, my parents who earlier had said they were not going to go, are going to go to his graduation. This posed a huge dilemma. Do I go and endure their crap? Do I go visit them another time? I had to take a few days to decide.

I am going to go. After thinking and talking with Peaches, I came up with quite a few ways to limit the impact of my parents' crap. So I am making my travel plans now and will go celebrate Snapdragon's great achievement with his wife.

Potty Mouth

So, yesterday morning, I was scooping the kitty poop and putting it in the toilet to flush. We use Feline Pine so you can do that. Also, I love the Feline Pine. It is 1) Economical, 2) Non-Toxic, 3)You flush the poop and can compost the rest. So I was scooping and dropped the poop into the toilet and water splashed up and hit me in the face! EEEEWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What is a gal to do in this situation, I ask? Wanting to sanitize my befouled face and lips, I Purell-ed my face. What a great start to the morning!

Oh Dear!

You know what is not cool? Spinning rims on a tan Taurus station wagon.

Interns are not all bad

One of the interns I have been training finishes today. It really has been a pleasure to train her and watch her growth. As we spoke yesterday, she told me that what was lacking at her previous training site was having a supervisor who was a music therapist that she wanted to be like and that she found that working with me. That is one of the biggest compliments I have ever gotten from a student or intern.

Donkey all the way!

Ever since I moved to the Commonwealth, I like saying that word because it sounds so much more important and elegant than state. State sounds so drab. Anyway, ever since I moved to the Commonwealth thirteen or so years ago, there has been a Republican governor. This has always baffled me. I mean, come on, this is home of the Kennedys. How can there be Republicans, especially governors? Well there were. A whole succession of them. Each a bit worse than the last. That finally all changed on Election Day when the people of the Commonwealth turned out in large numbers and voted in a Democrat, who is also the first black governor here and only the second in the country! I am so thrilled! I went to bed so happy in the knowledge that at least the people of the Commonwealth had pulled it together and saw the light.

Imagine my thrill when I awoke the next morning to see that Democrats had won not 15 but 28 seats in the House and Nancy Peloci would be Speaker of the House! Can you imagine, a Democrat and a woman? Simply amazing!! I felt like a dark cloud that had moved in six years ago when W was elected started to lift and the sunlight began to shine. It has been a dark time of abuse of power by our administration, filled with too many deaths of our troops, the people of Iraq and the people of Afghanistan. There are so many other things wrong, I could go on for hours. But I felt change coming with Pelosi leading the House.

At work, I was checking my email and blog and saw that Rumsfeld resigned. Wow! Changes I thought would come seemed to be starting immediately.

Finally, last night, Petunia and I were so surprised when we heard the news that the final Senate race in Virginia was decided and it went to the Democrat. This tipped the balance in the Senate to the Democrats and that dark cloud lifted some more.

Now, I don't want to leave you with the impression that all Republicans are bad in my eyes. Not at all. But this current administration has abused power in a horrific manner. With control of three branches of government, the voice of reason was lost. Without different points of view to balance things and stop the government from the most extreme actions, we are lost. I hope the Democrats control of the House and Senate will put the brakes on some of the horrors that are happening.

Autumn Leaves

Dear Autumn Leaves,

You are so pretty on the tree. But when you fall down, I have to rake you. As you can see, there are two giant piles of leaves on the street (for street pickup) that I have already raked. Please for the rest of the season, fall into the neighbor's yards. Thank you.

Love,
Hashbrown

Favorite Day

I love to VOTE! It is the best. When I give my ballot to the elderly ladies at the polling station, I feel so elated. Sadly, I have to wait until tonight to vote because I get on my train at least an hour before the polling stations open. I cannot wait for tonight!

Addition

Here is an equation for all you math loving people.

Take

One letter telling my parents we are going to adopt a child and prompting them to be happy for us (which they probably are not since they view our marriage as mocking a sacrament and a sin).

Add

No response from my parents.

Add

Taking a baby care class.

Add

Assembling one crib from IKEA and then seeing the nursery completed.

EQUALS

One enormous freak out with crying.

Ah, the sweet passion of life.

What a load of crap!

Life just sucks sometimes.

If my old friend who called me Saturday night is reading this, perhaps you understand why I did not know my ass from a hole in the ground.

Quick Update and Photo Essay

So, I have not had a ton of time lately for writing so I thought I would do a few more photo essays of live here. Here is the bare bones update.

• We have completed our home study and will be in the waiting pool next week or so.
• I have a new intern starting and one old intern finishing.
• A while ago, I was asked to join in a presentation at the national music therapy conference and I have not really worked on it until yesterday. I have less than two weeks to get my part of the presentation done.
• I had another manuscript accepted for publication in a journal in 2007.
• I have been knitting like a fiend (photos to come).

Below is a photo essay of things we recently bought for our baby.

Recent Pet Pics

Reuben

Josie

Clara

Jack-O-Lanterns

Do you like my carving?

Wolf

Shark

Skeleton head with wings from old gravestones

Thanks Peaches

Look at my diaper bag that Peaches bought me! Isn't it rad? I love it! She is the best!!

Next Door

I have been sitting on this one for a few weeks because I just recently could actually think about it. So a level three sex offender moved next door to our house. Frightening at best for someone who is a survivor herself, like me. I could not even deal with it at the time. Peaches would talk to me about it and I could feel myself shutting down to only ears. I could not think about it or even feel the fear that was clamping about me. I have to give her a huge shout out for she is nothing if not resourceful. She got the info on the laws. She called the sex offenders registry board, the police, our state senator, and our city councilor. The police came to arrest the man about a week after he moved in. Now the apartment is being shown to new people. Thank fricking God!

My reaction to this man is so different to my reaction to the people who lived on the other side of our house last year. They were selling drugs and their behavior was getting out of hand. I was all over that one, calling vice and talking to our state representative. I felt extremely empowered to utilize the avenues available to me to stop the drug trade next door. I was a frightened by their behavior and retaliation but that did not stop me. But this sex offender really paralyzed me.

I hate it so much that I am still so deeply affected by being molested. I hate that I can be frozen by fear. But I understand why and do not direct the anger inward.

Thank you Peaches for bravely taking this one on alone. I know I was not any help. I hope you understand.

I'm Sorry, So Sorry.

Hello Blog.

So many things have been happening and I have not had a moment to write. Well, that is not completely true. I feel I must be completely honest with you. You see, about two weeks ago, my wife and I started two registries for the upcoming baby. I have been spending lots of time with the registry site on MyRegistry.com. I know, I know, I was unfaithful to you. But the promise of people buying things for the baby was too much and I strayed. I spent many long nights, up for hours after my wife went to bed, searching for items to add to MyRegistry.com. I searched many indi women’s websites for cute and kitchy baby things, like this and this and this (fun, huh?). I am so sorry. I stayed up way too late many nights in a row with MyRegistry.com and not only did I neglect you, this illicit affair started affecting me at work. My coworkers would ask why I had big black circles under my eyes. My interns would come across me dazing off, dreaming about more onesies I need to find. My patients would catch me yawning mid-song. It affected me at home too. The kitties walked in front of the screen many times as I dallied on the registry, wanting to be loved. I would growl at them to move for they were blocking my view of the latest pop culture phrase ironed onto baby t-shirts. I was wrong to stray. I see the errors of my ways. I know I spent a lot of time with MyRegistry.com and that was time I should have spent with you, my faithful blog. You have always been there beside me through thick and thin. I abandoned you for the promise of gifts for the baby. I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?

Remorsefully yours,
Hashbrown

This is a Sweet Wedding Dress

click HERE

Kitty Scarf

Our cat, Josie, is slender, long, and graceful. She does not like to be held but loves to climb upon your lap or chest and love on you as you pet her. But don't hold her because she will growl. And she is FIERCE!

Striving for more ways to bond with her, I thought it would be nice for her and I if I trained her to drape herself across my shoulders. I have been teaching her this at the computer desk because she sits on the desk when we surf or type.

Lately, in the evenings, she comes into the bathroom with me and will climb onto the toilet tank and then walks back and forth across my shoulders, rubbing her face on my head. It is very sweet. I think she may some day come around and be the Kitty Scarf I always have wanted.

Recently, we had a guest in our home who went to use the restroom in an emergency situation. Josie, being the friendly gal she is, climbed on to the toilet tank as he entered the room and then began to swirl about on his shoulders, rubbing her face into his head as he utilized the facility. I am sure it was a unique experience for him. I wonder if he will use the facilities any time soon after that.

Home Study Hangover

No, I did not go on a bender after the home study. Please. But I did feel like shit for about 24 hours after, which is much like a hangover.

It was hard on me to open up to Ms. Stork and reveal stuff that I don't talk much about. Yeah, I talk about my family stuff on this blog but I am very choosy of what I reveal and I get to decide exactly what is said. I also have talked to many of my friends about the situations in my life, like being a survivor of sexual abuse, like being estranged from my family, like not being believed by my family, like having dyslexia. But during my private home study meeting, I had to discuss all these issues for two hours. It ended good with me emphasizing that despite these things, I have always coped in the most healthy way I could, never harming myself or others. I always have gone to therapy to move through issues. When in therapy, I do not doddle over issues; I tackle them head on and work through it.

So in a brief amount of time, I told her things that I don't tell my friends in one sitting. And she took notes. And she asked for more info. I knew to increase our chances of getting a child, I had to be honest and answer the questions. But it was hard. When we ended, it was a hand shake and out the door I went. I stopped at Starbucks to pee and felt like crying in the bathroom. I was so open and raw from the interview. I had to go get on the commuter rail to go home but did not want to sit there with all the strangers feeling so open and hurt. (But Hell, I probably would get a three person seat to myself if I sat there and cried real loud!) I read my novel to keep the hurt at bay until I got home nearly 3 hours later.

All last night and much of today, I felt the tears were close to coming out. I felt so weary and defeated. My heart and soul felt open and so raw. And my eye twitched from the stress.

There has to be a better way to do this. I know they need the info. But it seriously fucked me up. I am not a mamby pamby cry baby about this stuff. But seriously, if I did not have hella work commitments this week, next week, and the following week, I would take a few days off to regroup. It was that intense.

Peaches, don't you worry your pretty little head about this though. I am fine. I will be back to normal by Monday. Our baby is worth the wait and the work. I just wish there were a better way for the social workers to get the info they need.

Foster and Adoption Story

This is a pretty cool story.

Bull Daggers Don't Wear No Princess Dress

So, at work, we always dress up for Halloween. That is cool. But we do it by department and have themes. Still pretty cool. This year, my department has struggled to come up with a theme. Nine of us will be there that day. This one intern suggested we dress up like princes and princesses. Then another staff member said the boy she cares for said we should dress up as a vampire (male staff) and ballerinas. I could take no more and put my foot down in the staff meeting saying, "I am not going to dress up as a ballerina nor will I dress up as a princess and I am not going to go in drag as a prince!" The intern looked quite crushed. But, hello, I am a big bull dagger and am not going to wear some poofy pink princess gown! Hell no! We then ended up deciding to be Old MacDonald (the male staff) and the farm animals (female staff).

What I've Been Up To Part 1: The Big E

What I've Been Up To Part 2: Pumpkin Paddle

Clara likes giant pumpkin regattas.

What I've Been Up To Part 3: Going for a Walk

What I've Been Up To Part 4: Shopping for the Baby

What I've Been Up To Part 5: Pumpkin Shopping

Late and Long Post

It has been a couple of weeks since we had our home study for our adoption. I have wanted to post about it but 1) wanted to get a handle on the myriad of feelings I was having and 2) needed to find some time to actually sit and write it all down.

The visit went well. The social worker, Ms. Stork, is easy to talk with. I was having a bit of weirdness with her. But after thinking about it, I realized she and a social worker at work (who is rather rude to me and the child life specialists) have similarities and I was mixing the two up. I am comfortable talking to Ms. Stork about most topics but she came upon the one that I was not ready for.

In the paperwork we filled out initially, there was a section called something like “Sensitive Subjects” or some other assy name like that. It was about drug use, alcohol abuse, sexual assault, family trouble, etc. I was honest and wrote I was seeing a therapist for family issues, mainly their estrangement because I am a big gay wad (Obviously, I did not use that language. I called myself a Gaylord.). I also wrote that I am a survivor of sexual abuse and have received therapy for that as well.

Despite the fact that I write about those topics on my blog, I am UNCOMFORTABLE talking to people about these two issues especially when I feel I am being judged about it. So when Ms. Stork asked me if I was still seeing my therapist, I started feeling defensive and frightened. Then she told me it would help our home study if I got an additional reference from my therapist as well. She said it was my choice but that having it would strengthen our home study. Peaches said I had my deer in the headlights look at that moment. Ms. Stork told me it was optional, but I was thinking, “If I don’t do this, what message will that say? That I am hiding something? That something is desperately wrong with me?” I knew that I had to do this despite my severe dislike of being judged by the events of my younger life.

There have been times when both being gay and being a survivor were used against me in my career. I have not gotten jobs because of revealing that I am a survivor. My supervisory skills and model were called into question by a stupid patriarchal male supervisor because of my survivor-ship. (Dude, I was using the feminist psychology model. It is a well-documented model with great outcomes. HELLO!) My professor told me that being queer would affect my career. I was questioned about working alone with children because I am a big lesbo. The list goes on. You can see how my experiences lead me to being very uncomfortable with these topics when I am being “evaluated” or judged.

But it goes deeper than that. The shame that I carry from being molested permeates this resistance. I have the illogical fears, which I know are not true, that I will be seen as unfit because of what has been done to me. That I will be judged by my sister inappropriate actions. Because of the utter failure of my relationship with my family, I fear my ability to parent will be judged based on that estranged relationship. But these are fears and fears are usually not true.

Luckily, the next day was therapy. My therapist rocks. In the time I have been seeing her, I have made more progress on my family issues than I had ever with my other therapists combined, except my first. We talked about my fears and their basis. Then we talked about how I can talk about my issues positively. She then told me what she would say in the reference. She spoke about me with such care and admiration. I got teary. It was so moving to hear her speak so highly of me. She said that she sees me for the successes I have built out of the tragedies of my past.

So I sent my therapist the reference letter. I meet with Ms. Stork on the 11th of October. I know she will ask more about my family, about being a survivor, and how I have dealt with these things. I am still so scared of being judged. But I think I have the tools to make it through ok. I’ll let you know.

NPR = Weird

Did you hear this story yesturday?

bruise, pickle, dream, and asshat

This Meme is for you, AJWP!

Bruise
I have a silly tuperware thing that is shaped like an apple for apples to keep them from bruising. I bought it from a friend at work to support her child's school. You know those sheets your coworkers bring in and you feel all pressured to sign up for something because everyone else is signing up. Then you look at it and look for the thing that you could buy for that isn't very expensive but isn't the cheapest thing on the sheet because you don't want to look like a cheap-skate. So I bought 2 fruit containers, one that looks like grapes and is purple, and one that looks like an apple and is red. When I got it, I thought, this is going to be a piece of crap, but it wasn't. It actually works great keeping fruit from getting bruised in my bag. Who knew?

Pickle
I recently, like within the past month, tried a sweet gherkin pickle. I have never liked sweet pickles. Even when I buy relish, I get dill relish. But something happened to me. After five years of the same meals over and over at work, I cracked and decided to try the sweet gherkins instead of the dill pickles with my grilled cheese. Low and behold, I liked them.

Half sours are fruit of the devil.

Dream
I dreamed last night that I was a pilot in a war, as well as a music therapist. A report came out that I had died in a bombing. My wife, friends, and coworkers were crushed by the news. A week later, I returned from my mission to find everyone in mourning. I had to prove I was myself. My coworkers told me of how I was missed; they had a moment of silence for me that lasted 10 minutes. My beloved Peaches clung fiercely to me telling me of her love.

I dreamed that dream over and over, focusing on different aspects of it, all night long. I did not feel stressed or upset in it or after it. It was unusual.

Asshat
My state representative is an asshat. He has been accused of domestic violence. He has had a 51-A substantiated for hitting his daughter. I have heard countless tales of how he intimidates people, propositions women, and goes to stripper bars. He is not for equal marriage. He is rude to his voters. Pretty much, an asshat.

My List

Blogger is on my list. Three times, I have lost a post. That is to say 3 out of the last 5 posts, not counting this one, have been lost. Not good quality assurance there blogger.

Reservation Reservations

Tonight, I finally made all my reservations for the upcoming AMTA conference. I have meetings a-plenty and am presenting with two other people I have never met. I still have yet to see the presentation content and plan out my part. But, I still have one and a half months. Good times!

I always stress out when I see the totals for the conference. They really add up; my costs this year are as follows: for the flight ($220), conference cost ($540 cause I was late and did not get the early bird rate and I am taking the NICU institute), and hotel (almost $800). It is silly to stress because my work is picking up the bill. But until I return and submit my paperwork, it is on me and the credit card. I know it is silly but even though I know they are paying me back, making that much debt really stresses me out.

Kansas City, here I come.

Lord, my stomach does not feel good.

Icky Poo Commuter Story

Today, the red line was wicked packed and this weird dude was breathing on the back of my neck. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!

That is all. The End.

It's Not That I'm Rude

Do not call or drop by, not even for a cup of sugar, cause girl, we are busy. You know we love you all but we don't have time to socialize or be friendly. So don't even try. Better yet, if you see us on the road, pull over and make way cause we gots things to do. Here's my schedule.

MONDAY
1. Get up at 4 to help Peaches complete the normal cleaning for her child care business 'cause after all the DIY and fixing up we did Sunday, we are too pooped to stay up and clean.
2. Work all day.
3. Call my doctor for an appointment so I can get her to sign my paperwork for the adoption.
4. Come home on time.
5. CLEAN!
6. Sleep so I don't look like complete ass the next day for the social worker.

TUESDAY
1. Get up hopefully at normal time, 5 AM. Drive myself to the train station.
2. Work all day.
3. Leave early to get home early to vote!
4. Come home and tidy up after the cherubs in Peaches family child care business.
5. Meet with the social worker for the first home study visit.
6. Pick up after the social worker leaves.
7. Go to Melissa Murgo's celebration party!
8. Sleep.

The Return of the DIY

OK. So let me just say, putting in trim takes for freeking ever!

Art Expressing the Horrible

We went to the Worcester African Cultural Center (WACC) today for the African Cultural Festival. It was a wonderful festival and I recommend it to anyone in the area. There were music and dance performances, vendors, food, and free admission to the WACC.

I was shocked to see the size of the WACC. We drive by it twice a day to get to and from the train. The place is huge. It has a large gallery of art and artifacts that are beautifully displayed and preserved.

Also displayed in the museum gallery was an art exhibit, called The Children of Darfur Surviving Genocide by the children of Darfur. When the children arrived at the refugee camps, they were asked to draw pictures of their homes. Nearly all the pictures included guns, bullets, planes and helicopters, and houses on fire. I was horrified to see that young children, who's drawings of people are still not fully developed, able to draw a machine gun with quite a bit of accuracy. The drawings tell the tragic events of Darfur so well. At the same time, their drawings were beautiful.

If you have a chance to see it, I recommend you see this project.

Nice Post About Clara

Clara went to a pet festival today. She had a great time. She is a wonderful pup, even if her mouth still stinks of skunk. Look at her extreme cuteness.

Here, Clara is rocking the agility course.

Clara is watching the Frisbee dog act.

Oh no, Clara! You better pucker up.

Peaches loves her Clara.

Thanks for the great day together.

Anniversary

20 years ago today, I came out to myself and my two college friends. That's a lot of years. I'll tell you more soon.

Indicator of Fall

Oh Yeah, Caramel Apples!

Sleep Peaches Sleep

I guess my restless mind is a good thing. It kept me awake to hear a scary domestic situation across the street and call 911 a few minutes ago. It appears to have calmed down now, post police intervention. I called our neighbor, Green Thumb, since it was happening on the street in front of her house. She and I called each other a few times through it.

Peaches slept through the entire event. She is amazing.

Across the Universe

I am up past my bedtime with thoughts swirling about my head. I feel the sadness of loss all around me. I don't know what sparked it off; was it the movie, therapy yesterday, my book, being tired?

I am thinking about macro verses micro vision. How, if I look at single events with each of my family members with whom I do not talk to, I will begin to feel that I am wrong to treat them this way, cutting them off from my life and my future child. My actions seem exaggerated and mean. When I look at it with macro vision, seeing my life with each in it's entirety, my actions make sense and are good.

I am thinking about the choices made by my mother, my father, my sister, and my elder brother. As with all our lives, there were times they could have made different choices and we would not be where we are now. But then, we would not be who we are now.

I am thinking about that in a few days, I will mark my 20th year since coming out. 20 years ago, I told myself, my friends, my parents, and my siblings. In two decades, neither my parents, my sister, nor my elder brother have made an effort to learn, understand, or try. The question rolls about my head, "Why don't they try?"

I am thinking of how finally I am furious with my sister.

I am thinking about my loving wife who celebrates my successes, holds me when I cry, loves and respects me, shares her heart with me, and who has taught me more about family than I ever learned at my parent's home. Her laughter is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.

I am thinking about whether I should invite the nurses at work to participate in our 100 wishes quilt for our future baby.

I am thinking of a manuscript I need to work on making the corrections. The reviewer is crazy. I just need 3 good hours to complete it. But the acuity of the hospital is up and the intensity of the patients' needs has increased. Their stories, needs, music, faces, and words swirl about me.

I am thinking about stupid office politics and a rude coworker.

I am thinking about the young man I sang to sleep today. The intimacy of singing someone in physical and emotional pain to sleep is overwhelming some times. The suffering in his eyes coupled then with the trust in us to help ease him into sleep is a huge juxtaposition. And still, twelve hours later, one of the songs I sang, "Across the Universe" echoes in my mind. Here is a smidgen of the lyrics.

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow waves of joy are drifting thorough my open mind
Possessing and caressing me

Jai guru deva om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world

As a young teen, I discovered this song and loved it. The words "nothing's gonna change my world" brought me comfort. I clung to those words in hope that growing up, the impending coming out, going to college, etc. would never happen. I would always be with my friends Chica, Psycho Kitty, and the rest. I would always be with my family. I would always be with my younger brother. I would always have my church.

But tonight, pushing 40, those words bring a different comfort. A comfort that nothing that happens outside of me will ever change who I am, the worth I have, the strengths I possess, my laugh, or my heart. Lennon was right. I need to let go of all these things, let them "slip away across the universe."

Heirlooms

I have a lot of items from my family, furniture, paintings, pictures, letters, etc. Some, I am completely happy having out. Others I struggle with. I don't want to see the some of the items because they remind me of what I once had and do not have now. It stings my eyes and weighs on my heart.

But the other day, in sorting through things that do not bring forth such sadness. It is a bunch of letters and documents from around my birth. There is my birth announcement, congratulations cards from friends and family, notes from friends and family, and my hospital bracelet. Amongst these treasures, I found a letter to my mother from my Great Grandmother. It was a simple letter asking how my mother was doing and telling her about how they were. In it, there was this envelope of herb seeds. My Great Grandmother stated in the letter that she did not remember the name of the plant but it was in her garden. I do not know if these seeds will still grow but I am going to consult with a horticulturist friend. I hope they will grow for I would love to look out in my garden and see my Great Grandmother B's garden.

Ode to Oder

I dedicate this poem to my dog, Clara.

Stinkerella
Stinkerella
kissed a skunk
And now you smell-a

More Late Nights Keeping Me From Blogging

So, all of the home repair finished Monday night. Tuesday night was our last MAPP class, the horrible parenting class we have to take to adopt. As usual, I did not enjoy it. But this time I thought, fuck it, if I want to wiggle or look bored, I will. I had been trying to look interested and not wiggle the past seven weeks and it was KILLING ME! I would leave the class with a huge knot between my shoulders from holding myself still.

At the start of the class, the social workers said they would be letting us out early. I stupidly got my hopes up. Then at 8:30 PM they said the class would be running late. Everyone groaned. They gave us a test over the information covered in the class. Then they gave us an evaluation form. You know I was writing down a ton of stuff about stereotyping, racism, heterosexism, and sexism within the class, and not just in the participants. Hell, they asked for the feedback. Never ask a lesbian for feedback unless you want an earful!

Wednesday night, I sat down to blog and I hear Peaches crying for help. I ran down the stairs and was about knocked over by the most foul smell. Clara had been sprayed by a skunk at point blank range. Oh, the humanity! Let me tell you, that is not a good smell. If you want the full story, go here. So that night was messed up for blogging too.

Thursday night, we walked around our neighborhood with a fantastic woman who is running for state representative against the horrible incumbent in our district. She really is great. She supports LGBT rights, women's rights, openly talks about being a feminist, has new ideas, and has a dedication to changing things in the neighborhood for the better. If you are in our district and ward, Primary day is September 19th!

Friday night, Peaches had a date with her BFF, so I stayed at work, revising a manuscript for publishing. It is about the effect of music therapy on nurses doing procedures on children receiving music therapy interventions. This is the third time the journal has sent it back to me for revisions. One of the editors is great and has wonderful feedback. She has helped to make it a much better paper. However, the other one is CRAZY and obviously does not like music therapy. She even wrote on a previous form that the manuscript and study has no relevance to nursing care. But, if I want it published, I must address her stupid concerns. I stopped working around 8 PM and joined JPP and Peaches at Starbucks for a lovely coffee beverage, decaf Americano!

I am back now and maybe next week will not be so crazy. Let's hope.

One Reason for my Absence, Part 1

This is the remaining ugly vinyl wallpaper. We removed it last weekend.

It is not a quick and easy project as you will see.

Here is a picture of the layers of wallpaper. Our home was built in 1870 and it was never painted, only wallpapered, over and over.

Here, my beloved Peaches is stripping wallpaper.

This is the bare horsehair plaster which is used throughout the house.

This is post-patching the walls. The original horsehair plaster has so many holes, scrapes, and cracks, it took us a couple hours to patch it.

Part 2

After working until very late that night (11 PM), we went to bed and let the spackle dry. We got up at 6 AM the next morning to start the next phase, sanding. I sanded the walls as smooth as I could get it, which is not very smooth due to the age and shape the walls are in.


Then, we went to Boston and helped a friend move. I know, you are like "What?" It is odd to stop home repair to go schlep boxes up and down stairs. But we did. Then we came home to do the next phase of work.





Priming!









We did two coats of Whisper Blue through that evening and went to bed around 12:30 AM. The picture does not do the color justice.


The next evening, we hung the shelf/close rack which is wonderful. Then we moved the office to the other side of the closet and moved all the other stuff to the basement and shed. That night, we got to bed around 1 AM.

Good times!

Drum Roll Please

I want first to thank everyone for their ideas and input for my name as a mother. I thought a great deal about it and really enjoyed everyone's input. I was almost going to go with Poppy but then I had a thought. I want to be identified as a mother to our child, just as Peaches will be. Although Poppy has a parental sound to it, it has male parent sound to it (the main reason I wanted it). I want people to hear our child call to me and know that is the child's mother, well one of it's mothers.

Time for the unveiling!

Henceforth, my child will call me Mumzy.

This name is within my cultural and ethnic heritage of British Canadian (my mother's side). I felt that was important to embrace as soon I will be helping my child to embrace her/his culture and ethnicity of birth as well as my own.

I also made my choice because I have an affinity for unusual letters like X, Q, and Z. Those of you who know my secret identity know I added the x that was dropped two generations ago back to my name.

Thank you everyone. Tune in next time to hear about our super weekend of home repair and moving a friend.

Pluto

So what the fuck is going on with the planets? First I hear that there are four more. Then I read Pluto is not a planet anymore.

Who died and left the astronomers God?

Teva Stink

While you are all delurking, tell me what your cure for Teva Stink is. I have two pairs of Tevas that I LOVE but they smell worse and worse. How have you cured the stink? I hate to throw them away before they are worn out.

What to Call Myself?

As a semi-butch dyke, I am trying to decide what to be called by our child when we adopt. My wife will be going by Mama. The struggle is to find a name that I like, that fits my semi-butch status, as well as identifies me as a parent.

Here are a bunch of names we have have tossed around. None really fits perfectly.

• Mami
• Mom
• Mum
• Mumzy
• Mumz
• Mummy
• Poppy
• Mumma

Here are our rules.

1. No first names, like Mama Hashbrown
2. No made up names

So what do you think?

Here are my thoughts. I really like Poppy for three reasons. First, it does not have a history of specific traditional female role like the other names. Second, it sounds a lot like the Latin American name for father, Papi. Third, it is a flower that I adore. My fears of what others will think and assume is where the problem lies. People will assume that since I have a more father-like name that I am the "man" in the relationship with my wife. That whole butch-fem/man-woman role thing is so old and so tiring to confront. It goes on so much already because I have short hair, don't wear dresses, and like power tools. I do not want to compound the pre-existing assumptions with a man-ish parental name. I also think about the trouble it may cause for our child especially as s/he is a teen and adult, having to explain it to friends, bosses, coworkers, future in-laws, etc. But then I ask myself, why do I think about what others may think? They will think what they will think no matter what I decide. Why not just do what I want? Maybe I should just be called Parent.

So I am asking all my readers to chime in with what you think. I am not looking for you to make my decision but want some input and maybe new ideas. So delurk and comment, please.

Love, Hashbrown

Fun and Sun in the City

Yesterday was a gorgeous afternoon in Boston. Instead of working a few extra hours or going to a work function, I went to sit in the sun, on the grass, in Copley Square. A local radio station was sponsoring a free concert with Toby Lightmen and Shawn Mullins. Toby Lightmen was great! Shawn Mullins was a bit too depressing for me right then. It was beautiful to sit, enjoy the sun and music, and look about at the beautiful buildings surrounding the square.

I was there the day before too. Instead of waiting underground for the local train that would get me home 15 minutes earlier, I sat by the fountain, enjoying the sun and being in the city. It is times like these that remind me what a great city Boston is and how much I love it.

911 from 9/11

I got my copy of the Metro this morning from my favorite Metro Lady. On my way down to the subway platform, I started reading the front page. It was the story of one of the 911 phone calls from the World Trade Center. As I waited for the Red Line, I choked back the tears as I read how the 911 operator continued to talk to the woman for 21 minutes after the woman stopped speaking. The operator stated she wanted to encourage and support the caller even if she could not speak or was perhaps unconscious. The story ended with the line going dead and the operator’s exclamation of horror. The kindness, dedication, and humanity of that 911 operator, reading the caller's fear of death, and knowing the end of the story before it came, it all ripped through me like the subway entering the station. The doors opened and I swallowed my tears and strived to pull it together as I climbed into the jam-packed train and rode to work.

A Night to Remember

I saw bigotry rear its ugly head yesterday night. Horrible, horrible words were uttered and shouted. I saw the worst in people. It was shocking to see just how far we have not come. The comfort in which people asserted their racist beliefs, right here in Massachusetts, was horrifying. I guess I forget just how bad the beliefs and attitudes are; I had begun to believe we were further along. We aren’t. I was frightened. I was angry. I was disgusted. It was real.

Dear Ms. Know-It-All,

I just wanted to clear up a point with you after the meeting last night. During the meeting, you said my wife and I had an "alternative lifestyle." The term "alternative lifestyle" implies that our way of living is a substitute for when "normal lifestyle" is not available, such as alternative plans, alternative fuel source, alternative routes, and alternative treatments. These are all things that are not as good as the original but sort of suitable. This is not acceptable to my wife, the GLBT nation, or me. We are called lesbian, transgender, gay, bi, queer, trans, bisexual, two spirited, questioning, and omnisexual. If those terms are too hard on your lips, you can revert to the acronym GLBT.

I also want to inform you that I do not have a "lifestyle." The term "lifestyle" implies something transient, something chosen, something fun. I live a life. And I do have style, a style unto myself. Oh yeah!

I recommend you get some education but not from me. I am sick to death of having to be an educator to your ignorant, backwards, crazy-ass self. I am too busy living my life and maintaining my style.

Love,
Hashbrown

Everything is Back to Normal

Reuben must be feeling better. I woke at 4 AM from a weird noise so I got up to investigate. Here is Reuben with his big melon head inside the cat food container. He had pulled off the flip top lid and then the rest of the lid. Evidently, he did not get the memo that he is supposed to be on soft food only.

Josie is still growling and hissing at him anytime he comes around. I am sure that will go back to in a day, when he does not smell like surgery any more.

Also, I hear a familiar thumping. He is trying to open the lids again. Oh, Reuben!

Worry

About a year ago, we took our two cats, Reuben and Maddie, in for dental cleanings and extractions. When we adopted Maddie at one year old, she already had breath that could stop a truck from bad teeth so it was no surprise that she needed some teeth pulled at the age of 2. Reuben was 7 and had poor teeth as well, not to the extent of Maddie.

Maddie died after the surgery. She escaped while they were placing her in the carrier and ran about the OR. They finally got her back into her carrier. From all the excitement, she vomited and inhaled it. The blessing of this was that she died at home in Peaches arms with Reuben and I next to her. Maddie’s passing still stings; I miss her little cricket purr.

Maddie

Today, Reuben had to go in again for a dental cleaning and extraction. He has two more teeth that have gone bad. When I found out that he needed the surgery again, my heart ached again as it has not for months. It was with trepidation that I took him in to the vet this morning. I do not want to loose another cat that way.

The vet’s assistant called a bit ago to say that Reuben did well through the surgery and was waking up from the anesthesia. I can go pick him up at 4 PM. I am slightly relieved that he is doing fine from the surgery but will not be relieved completely until he comes home and plops on the bed.

Reuben

Update

Reuben is home now and doing ok. He is a bit nutty from the anethesia but that will wear off as the night goes by. He is fangless now. Poor Bubba!