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.
29 September, 2006
28 September, 2006
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.
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.
27 September, 2006
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.
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.
That is all. The End.
17 September, 2006
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.
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.
16 September, 2006
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.
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.
11 September, 2006
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.
10 September, 2006
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.
07 September, 2006
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.
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."
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."
05 September, 2006
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.
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
02 September, 2006
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.
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!
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