I love the holidays. I think it's such a fun part of the year. Thanksgiving is not my favorite holiday but I do love the parade and the early dinner and since I'm now a full fledged vegetarian, I love the side dishes - thank goodness there's a lot of them on Thanksgiving!
I'm not really the type of person who would do an "I'm thankful for ..." post. Really because I think that whatever I write is going to be stuff that everyone knows anyway. Here's something you may not know: I am the person who never really came out to anyone - I just figured they'd all get the picture at some point anyway! Maybe that topic is a post for another day. But I've decided to do a "thankful for post" despite myself. It's been a big year ...so, here goes,
I'm thankful that the woman of my dreams decided to take the plunge and marry me this past year! And that our wedding was everything we wanted it to be.
I'm thankful for my beautiful wife and for all that she does for me and the bean. I'm incredibly lucky that she has chosen me to spend her life with and the bean is so lucky to have her as a Mom.
I'm thankful for the bean. She's definitely put things in perspective for me and brought me back to looking at the simpler things in life. I've spent my life being more impatient than patient, but for the bean I have a never ending supply of patience. She never ceases to amaze me and her smile makes me melt.
I'm thankful for the way her birth went and that the midwife allowed me to catch the bean. I was scared and the midwife saw that in my face but assured me it would be okay.
I'm thankful that I continue to feel like my life is on the right track. I've made a whole lot of mistakes in the past that have led my life astray but now everything just feels right.
I'm thankful that even though I hardly post, my blog still has a few readers :)
Happy Thanksgiving!
Yesterday morning while I put on the bean's socks and shirt, I said to her:
So, we are going to see the judge today. I want you to know I've been one of
your parents since even before you were born. Momma and I planned to have a baby and we are so lucky to have you. We are both your parents even back when
you were just a thought. It's confusing because the laws of this world are so screwy that we have to do this. But this will protect us if we ever need protection... and I hope that we don't.
(side note - since we were married before the baby was born my name was already on her birth certificate, but since not all states recognize our marriage we had to also do a second parent adoption).
Second parent adoption day which was a little bittersweet for me and Krafty too (you can read all about it on her blog as well, complete with pictures). Of course we do this to protect our family but it doesn't make me feel all warm and fuzzy that we had to let strangers into our house to scrutinize my relationship with my daughter. That I had to reach out and ask 3 friends (thank you!) to write me letters of recommendation to adopt my own daughter . That the baby needed to have her own lawyer to make sure we were doing the right thing by her. But what else can we do but make sure our little girl, our family, is protected and afforded the same rights as other families. Of course, we're fortunate to live in a state where this is all possible. It's not that I don't see that and I'm not grateful for it, I am. But it's hard not to look at all the hoops we had to go through and think that we wouldn't have to do this if all states and the federal government would recognize our marriage and allow same sex couples to marry everywhere.
But I try not to dwell too much on all of that. And we did celebrate because I am legally the bean's parent outside of our home state and the other states that recognize our marriage. Our family is now protected on a state level and a federal level. It was an important day for us.
The actual hearing was very nice. The bean was sleeping when we arrived at court. We all filed into the court room... Krafty, me, the bean, the bean's lawyer, the DCF worker (the woman who did the report couldn't make it so she sent someone in her place) and the judge. The judge mentioned that we all wanted this to go quickly but "the agency" took a long time doing the report. I was glad he mentioned that because it's been 4 months and I too thought the state agency could have done this a bit quicker. The judge had us swear that there were no other adoption proceedings for the bean in other jurisdictions. Around this point the bean woke up, which was nice. Everyone was cooing at her and she was smiling away after she got over the initial shock of having fallen asleep at home and was now in front of 3 strangers. The judge asked the agency worker and the bean's attorney if there was any reason not to allow me to adopt the bean and went through some legal mumbo jumbo... they had read the reports, the letters etc, and everything was favorable. The judge showed us a certificate of adoption in a nice presentable folder and other legal papers and went over them with us. Then he came around, put his gavel in front of the bean, put his hand on it and hers and they hit his gavel. The decree was finalized, a picture was snapped, the bean blinked.
We took several other pictures with everyone and were on our way, a fully legal family. After the proceedings, we went to lunch at the same place we got married. It seemed fitting since the justice of the peace for our wedding was also the judge for the adoption.
I've thought a lot about not blogging anymore and had been trying to decide if I would just quietly disappear from blog land or post something to signify the end. But every time I logged onto blogger I kept writing about the bean , so here's a post that I've written in bits and pieces over the last 4 months. And I guess I'm not giving up on blogging just yet.
The bean has completely changed life in ways that I probably could never really communicate here or verbally. It's almost too big to even imagine. When she looks at me, I melt. Everything is incredible to watch and I'm afraid I may turn into one of those parents who constantly talks about their kid. Really it's because I'm in awe at the bean - at every little tiny thing she does (and because when you have an infant you have to do crazy things like count poopy and pee diapers so even that can be a topic of conversation).
Krafty has been at home with the bean since her birth. After my two weeks off, I headed back to work. It was almost weird being at work where really nothing had changed when in fact my life was completely different. And though I was physically at work and going through the motions, my mind and my heart were home with Krafty and the bean.
At work, when we get a voicemail we also get an email indicating that there's a voicemail waiting for us and what number the person called from. Whenever I see one of Krafty's phone numbers I always text her to find out if everything is okay. There was the day when I saw she left a voicemail and I was at a meeting. I texted her and her response was, "everything is okay. You have to listen to your voicemail." So, I anxiously waited for my meeting to end, headed back over to my office, sifted through a bunch of voicemails that I had not yet listened to and then got to Krafty's. I'll never forget it, ever. I could tell from her voice that she was so excited. And what she called to tell me was that our little bean ROLLED OVER! It was the first time the bean had rolled back to belly. Krafty caught some of the roll on video and that weekend, the bean showed me her rolling skills. Now she rolls back to belly, belly to back and she rolls and rolls. It's so cute to watch especially if there's any road blocks (the bean is not at all deterred by road blocks, she just keeps trying to roll).
Getting the bean to take a bottle was quite the task. We waited to introduce the bottle so that we could avoid any nipple confusion and we succeeded for sure. Bean liked to gum the bottle but actually sucking and drinking from it was another story. We kept trying and finally she figured out that she could suck on the bottle and get that same stuff she was getting when she was breastfeeding. I never really felt very strongly about wanting to give the bean a bottle but I found once we got the bottle thing down that it was and is something I enjoy doing with the bean. I practically jumped for joy the day I was feeding the bean and before she could finish her bottle she was fast asleep!
I told someone who has been encouraging me to blog that I felt like I didn't have much to write. She responded that I should blog about what it's like to be a parent. I'll say this, I feel lucky to be a parent - lucky to have Krafty and the bean in my life, lucky to be a witness to all that the bean does. It's hard to explain but I guess the best way I could is - I'm filled with love and awe.
My Mom and Dad divorced when I was around 6 years old. Honestly, I don't ever remember my Dad living in my house. He was really good about picking up my brother and I on his visitation days - well actually that's what HE'D tell you but leaving two small kids sitting around waiting for your arrival and finally showing up hours late isn't what I'd call "good". He'd take us to my Grandparents house and once we went to sleep (I went to sleep around 6pm until about 3rd grade - by choice believe it or not) he went out partying. The following day the man slept all friggin' day. Sometimes we'd go to the beach, where my Dad would sleep and tell my brother and I that we weren't allowed off the beach blanket. Sometimes he'd take us on vacation and we'd do things together, like go crabbing.
Still I worshipped the ground he walked on - I can't tell you exactly when I stopped worshipping him but here's some highlights for you:
There was the time that my Mom and Step Dad had a fight on the same day my Father was picking me up. I was upset - so upset by it that my Mom explained to my Dad why I was so upset. I got into the car and we drove away...I think I might have even been crying. I was maybe 10 years old. My Dad turned to me and said, "Your mother deserves all the misery that man gives her."
He met a woman and they eventually got married (he actually had been engaged prior to this but that didn't work out). The summer when I was 14 I went to stay with them and I asked my father if I could move in with him and his wife. His answer to me was that his life (which largely consisted of him and his wife going out drinking every night) was not conducive to bringing up a child and I should continue to live with my mother. This, of course, didn't make me especially happy but I accepted his answer. That same summer his wife got pregnant. For me this was a huge blow - uhm, Dad, did you remember that your life wasn't conducive to raising a child? [btw - even though his life would now have a live-in child, I was still not welcome to live with him]. Still, when my step-mother went into labor I spent the entire 18 hours at the hospital alone in the waiting room.
But at 14 I was also starting to get more interested in spending time with my friends then spending Fri night through Sunday night with my Dad, his wife and their child. They had a vacation home in NJ that we all went to every weekend and one day I asked him if we could start leaving Saturday morning or go every other weekend so that I could still see him and go out with my friends. His response -- Why should I not go away every weekend for you?
I chose to hang out with my friends all weekend, every weekend.
One day around that same time I was in the car with my Dad and the song Cats In The Cradle Came on. At the time I didn't know the song very well so I didn't really understand but my father turned to me and said, "I hope we don't end up like this song." When I heard the song years later I really paid attention to the lyrics and I look back on that day like it was some huge foreshadowing in my relationship with my Dad or maybe a self fulfilling prophecy on his part.
Fast forward to college -- one Christmas Day my step-mother said something (I can't even remember what) and we had an argument. My Dad asked to speak to me in the other room and before he could say anything I said: "I feel like a stranger in my own father's house." To which he responded, "If you don't like it, leave." I left.
After this incident with much pushing from my family my Dad and I went out to dinner to work things out. When he was dropping me off at home he said to me, "This was nice, we should do it again." Seemed like progress and then he said, "But you know, I tell people what they want to hear and then just do what I want anyway."
For years I hardly saw the man - I'd show up periodically at family functions and call occasionally. He, of course, never called me just to say hi or anything.
Several years ago he was in the hospital after having had a mild stroke and I woke up one morning with this feeling that I should go visit him. I got to the hospital and his room was empty - I assumed he was off having tests. The nurse saw me and asked if I was family then told me to wait for the doctor. The doctor came in and like some bad scene in a movie she fumbled through her words -- he had a stroke, a heart attack too...we've been trying to reach the family...can you get in touch with your family so everyone can come to the hospital...we don't think he'll make it... you'll need to make some decisions so have me paged when your mother (she was talking about my step-mom) gets here. I lived in that hospital for a full week -- and I mean lived -- I left once a day for a shower and that was it. Fucker wasn't going to die before we had a chance to work things out.
After that I realized that he was who he was and there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted a relationship with him but it was never going to be the kind of relationship I wanted NOR was it going to be the relationship he wanted (which judging from all the hoops my brother jumps through was one where the child did whatever the parent wanted, whenever, regardless of what else was happening in the child's life). So after he recovered I began to do just what I was willing to do, to give of my time as much as I was willing to and to not give a crap about all the stuff that he or my step-mother said about when I did or did not show up at things.
For my part, I'm fairly happy with my decision. Although it still hurt when recently my phone rang and I saw it was my Dad. I thought that he was just calling to say hi because there wasn't any holiday coming up or anything. I answered the phone and he was surprised to hear my voice -- "I was trying to call your brother, I must've dialed wrong" to which I responded, "oh hey Dad, how are you" but he had to go so he could call my brother.
To be fair, over the years I've asked him for some help on a few things and he did help. And when the complete drama of breaking up with my ex was happening, my Dad and I had reason to go to dinner alone -- where he gave me some good insight into how he felt about his breakup with my Mom.
I think he must have come to some kind of similar conclusion after he got sick about our relationship as I did because he no longer gives me a hard time when I don't show up for family functions. I try to go to most everything but sometimes I have other things going on. A few weekends ago I missed his birthday (though there's going to be another "surprise" party that we plan to be at) and when I called to tell him I wouldn't be there he didn't give me a hard time at all and he actually told me to tell Krafty he said hello.
My relationship with my Dad is what it is, but it gives me a lot of things reflect on and say, "I hope I never make the bean feel that way." I don't think I will though. I can't really see myself not being considerate of our child's feelings. I'm sure I'll give her some other things to complain about but at the very least she's going to know how important she is to me, how much I love her and that our family is the most important thing in my life.
Have I mentioned that I am a bit of a germaphobe? Actually I would call myself cautious about getting sick but other folks have called me a germaphobe and well, you know, when enough people say something you have to start to think maybe there's truth to it.
On a normal day to day basis, I don't think much about germs - I don't wash my hands a gazillion times or take any steps that maybe an over-the-top germaphobe would (like use an elbow to turn on the faucets). But if there's some reason for me to be concerned about germs then I do all sorts of stuff. Anyway, who would want to touch a dog that has ring worm -- not me. Is it taking it a bit too far not to touch anything else in the house where the dog lives? I don't know, maybe. Share my plate of food with you - I don't think so. I'm the person who will come visit you in the hospital but on my way out will wash my hands and when I get home my clothes are going right into the hamper...and I'm probably going to take a shower. What's wrong with a little precaution? Maybe I'd need some help if it stopped me from doing things I want to do (I mean I did visit the dog, I do visit folks in the hospital). Anyway, it's become somewhat of a joke and I can laugh at myself about all this.
When all the press coverage started on the flu I started taking some precautions like washing my hands a little more often. I wasn't exactly happy sitting on the plane this weekend next to someone who coughed the entire 6 hour plane ride. Who can blame me -- I'd like to stay as healthy as possible -- after all there's a pregnant wife for me to worry about getting sick. I find myself moving away from folks who are sick on the subway, cursing the vendor who came to a meeting today clearly sick and popping wellness formula pills like they're candy.
I would really love to blame all of this on an old girlfriend who wouldn't share her drinks with anyone. But today it hit me... when I was about 5 years old my brother had pneumonia. While my Mom was at the hospital with him, I spent a considerable amount of time at home with a babysitter. The babysitter just hung out in the living room while I pulled the kitchen chair up to the cabinet where my Mom kept the vitamins and proceeded to eat the entire bottle of Flintstones kids vitamins. I just wanted to be sure that I didn't get sick like my brother. When my Mom found the empty bottle she quickly called the poison control center. It was okay - the vitamins weren't going to cause me any harm. I'm pretty sure my Mom moved the vitamins after that. Apparently though, old habits die hard.
At times there it felt as if the painting of the new place would never be completed. Maybe I had a few meltdowns here and there about it too. But looking back it wasn't so so bad and thankfully the only things left to paint are the unexpected things -- the stairs (story over at Kraftys) and the trim around both sliding glass doors. This doesn't seem like much to me though I am not too motivated to do them this weekend or anything like that.
I have to admit I love what we've done to the place -- the colors we chose, the floors, the lights -- all together it looks even better then I had anticipated. My two favorites -- the nursery and the floors!
The nursery is still in progress but here's a picture of it from when I finished painting. I love the colors of this room although when I just had the brown done I thought it might be too dark. In actuality the brown and the green go really well together and the room looks so cute! I was a little worried about my painting abilities and having two colors besides the fact that I can't draw a straight line let alone paint one or place painters tape straight. But Krafty can! She put out the painters tape so all I had to do was not cover the tape when I painted. I painted the brown first then we let it dry for several days. We removed the tape and Krafty put the tape back up to align with the top of the brown color and then I painted the green.
And here's a pic of the new floors - that's our dog, Pebbles and this is her blogger debut! She seems to like the new place though the floors are probably her least favorite -- she'd prefer to have lots of soft places to lay with her bones.
I'm guessing you folks are tired of reading about my painting woes so maybe just one more post about the stairs when I paint them and then I'll move on to something else.
Here's a long overdue post that I started a long time ago. With the renovations and the move it seems like the wedding was so long ago but I still wanted to get this post out. So here it is:
Krafty has blogged about the wedding in full detail - if you want to check it out you can find it here (lots of pics too!). I thought I'd fill you in on some details about what I was doing.
As Krafty mentions, the night before the wedding we had dinner at my Mom's house. I slept at my Mom's house that night, so I kissed Krafty goodbye and she went with her parents to our house for the night. After she left my 20-something year old nephew asked me if I wanted to go out for a few drinks! Ha! It might have been a nice evening out where some serious bonding would have taken place but the prospect of going out for drinks just wasn't very appealing to me. I opted to stay in. Once everyone went home I talked to Krafty to say goodnight and then relaxed.
I woke up around 5am on the big day - I didn't need to wake up yet but I was up and wide awake! At 7:30 my Mom came into the room to wake me up and left me a present and card from Krafty. Inside the box was really cool cuff links and the card brought tears to my eyes.
Meals at my parents house are almost always eaten together, so I joined my Mom and step-dad for breakfast. It was nice to sit down with them and talk. They were just chatting away and though I was keeping up my end of the conversation I was a little preoccupied thinking things like, the next time I eat breakfast I'll be married!
After breakfast I went to get my car washed and run a few errands. Nothing too exciting - really I was just trying to fill my morning up a little bit. Then back to the parents house where I found my mother looking for shoes she wanted and having to go through her closet to do so. We came across things like my old blanket, which she'll be giving us for the bean and my Mom and Dad's wedding album. My mother was a beautiful bride and looking through the photos was fun -- I hardly recognized my Dad!
I had to leave the house between 1 an 1:30 in order to be on time. So, At 12 I started to get showered and dressed. Being my first time wearing a tux, it took me a little longer then usual to get dressed. I had to call my Mom into the room to help me with my tie. Plus, the tux had a way to adjust the waist size and I started screwing around with that which made the tux fall funny against my thighs. Again, my Mom came in and helped me fix it so it fit properly. And off I went.
It was 1:20 and I was feeling good...especially since Krafty said to me a few days before, "you can't be your usual late self on the wedding day, we have a tight schedule." I was driving along the parkway absolutely sure that it would split into the interstate I normally take to get to our house and the other parkway I needed to be on to get to the wedding location (I should mention I've driven on these roads for years). And then I got to the end of the parkway...there was no exit for the parkway I needed...NONE. I really couldn't understand it. I got off and called my brother.
me: George, you have to help me. I'm lost.
my brother: Oh, so you are going to use getting lost as an excuse, huh?
It made me laugh but I was totally stressed out and luckily he got me back on track. However, not only did I lose my wiggle time I was now running 10 minutes late.
I arrived at the wedding location and ran a box up to the reception room. It was my job to put out the black table runners (especially since the center pieces hadn't arrived yet since it would be easier to do without moving them). I ran around the tables moving the plates and silverware and putting the table runners down. The very last time I went to reach for a table runner from the box, I cut my finger -- on my left hand..the hand I would need for pictures of the ring later. I didn't have time to dwell on it though, I had a schedule to keep.
I raced over to the hotel where Krafty was and called to say I arrived. I went inside and waited for Krafty to come down. The photographer came by to see me and take a few pics of me. Then I turned around and waited for Krafty to come into the room. My back was towards her and I heard her say, "Are you ready?" My heart fluttered and my stomach filled with butterflies. I think I responded with, "Are you asking me?" and then I turned around and saw the most beautiful bride in the world -- her hair, the dress, the makeup -- everything was amazing, Krafty looked stunning and I could not stop smiling and thinking how lucky I am.
Krafty goes into all of the details about freezing to get some good outdoor pictures, the ceremony and reception so I won't duplicate all of that. The whole day turned out to be so wonderful.
I did promise to post the video and I will as soon as I can. Until then, here's another picture:
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