Just Expecting Greatness

Happy New Year!

2012-01-04T04:36:00.001-05:00

2012... Does that even seem possible? Time really does just disappear sometimes doesn't it? I can hardly believe that Mad Max is just one month away from turning two and even more unfathomable, my sweet girl will be TWENTY this year! And re-reading that sentence reminds me of how absolutely crazy I am!

2011 was full of many things to be thankful for. Good and bad it all makes us who we are. I, like many other people didn't see my all of my 2011 resolutions to fruition and like those same people I made resolutions again this year. Except this year I decided to make my resolutions more attainable. I am giving up dark liquor and cigarettes. That shouldn't be a problem.

Do you ever wonder why people don't resolve to just be a better version of themselves? It seems like it would be an easy one. Small changes would make the resolution a success. For some of the people in my life, I can help you achieve that goal. (Don't worry, I won't use names!)

For instance, if you don't typically say please and thank you, you could try that. Even part-time manners would be an improvement to no manners at all.

You could stop using social networking sites as a way to gain sympathy from your "friends." I don't know many adults who actually feel sorry for the Poor Me Facebook poster. Remember what you put out is what you get back. Try it, you might like it!

You could stop wondering why your job is crap when your performance is crap. Just a thought.

You could self-reflect - just once or twice and really try to see where your responsibility lies in any given situation. It's very easy just to own up to your mistakes and people will actually... Wait for it... Respect your commitment to honesty and responsibility! Bonus!!

You could lose the passive - aggressive behavior. I've spent thousands on therapy learning how to deal with people like you. It's old, it doesn't work. Try something new.

You could remember to think about how your actions or inactions affect those around you. It's not always all about you.

Once in awhile, you could think beyond today. Unless the world really does come to an end this year, there will be a tomorrow, a next week, month and year. Your behavior today just might affect your tomorrow. Be more mindful of that.

Think about how your actions, behavior and attitude DIRECTLY affect your children. Every day is a lesson for them and it's important to ALWAYS remember, you are showing them how they should behave as an adult. Your children will become what you are; so be what you want them to be.

Tell the truth. Nine times out of ten, we all know you're lying. It makes you look stupid and makes the rest of us angry that you think WE are stupid.

And lastly because this list really could go on forever, just try to do the right thing at least once a day. You have 15-20 hours a day to do it. Fit it in somewhere!

Easy right?? Maybe being a better version of oneself is more difficult than it seems. I'm going to try it. I'll let you know.

Happy Mother's (Women's) Day!

2011-05-07T14:46:00.008-04:00

Happy Mother's Day! Many of us have amazing Mothers in our lives, whether they belong to us or not. All of the Facebook posts started me thinking about the incredible women I have in my life.

I have a three wonderful people that play the role of mother for me. The woman that gave birth to me. Bless her heart. She's the one that deserves the credit for my survival. She did allow me to live, even after I borrowed her car (more than once) when I was just 13. (See Not Like Me) She put up with my attitude and hormones. She celebrated my successes and loved me through my failures.

My "other" Mother (aka Step-Mother) came along right as I was at the age of plotting to borrow the car. She married my Dad, even though he had one teenager and two more right behind. She will earn a special place in heaven for that act alone. She too has loved and supported me though all things. She is truly one of the best mothers I know and I have two incredible siblings to show for it!

My Mother-in-law is probably the luckiest of them all. She got the good me. She didn't have to put up with my teenage antics, she never had to discipline me, cover for me or be remotely embarrassed about something I had done. She got me after the others had put in all the work. After I had learned from not only my own mothers, but the other mothers and women around me. She acquired me at my best after the other two had seen and known all about the worst. AND I even took her daughter off her hands! ;)

Thinking about how these three women touch my life on a daily basis made me think about some of the other women who have made a difference to me and mothers or not, I wanted to acknowledge some of them in some small way. Don't panic ladies... in most cases, I won't use names.

My newest friend - who I met on Craigslist. (NO, I wasn't looking for friends - I was looking for a glider.) Your story amazes me every day! You have come back from things that you only see in movies! You are a genuinely kind and wonderful person. You are an amazing mother, wife and friend.

My SoCal to Seattle Friend - You are really my vision of a warrior woman! You are so brave. You have the faith and fearlessness that most women (myself included) only dream about. You keep on going even when things don't go as planned and you never miss a beat.

Max's Workday Mommy - You know firsthand how hard it is to leave your baby at daycare. What you may not know firsthand is how awesome it is to know that your child is completely safe, well taken care of and loved while you are at work. Thank you for loving our little guy Monday - Friday!

My co-worker turned real life friend - You show me every day that you don't have to be SuperMom to be a really terrific Mom! You constantly keep me off the ledge by reminding me that even the very best moms sometimes have to give their kids frozen dinners once in awhile and that none of that matters by the end of the week.

My amazing sister-in-law - We all know what you have had to endure to be part of this family. (Ha!) You are smart, funny and courageous. You are a great Mom and a wonderful Aunt to my kiddos and I am proud to call you my sister!

Max's GodMommies - There really aren't words to explain how we feel about you two! We watched you through your adoption journey and knew that our son deserved Godparents like you. Watching and waiting through your pregnancy made us proud to call you Max's Godparents and our friends. Emersyn is one of the luckiest little girls we know!

The most talented writer I've ever met - You are not only the funniest, most kind and warm person I've ever met you are the only person I've ever met who was granted a divorce on Valentine's Day and had the heart and soul to get married again!

My friend whose heart is in Alaska - You my friend are truly one of the best women I have ever met. You are an incredible mother. You make it look so, so easy. You are a wonderful wife and while I know it's not always easy, you have more determination in your spirit than I will ever have in mine.

Oregon Mother of Three - You have endured what most of us can not even begin to imagine. Yet you went on and continue to be the kind of mother your girls can be proud of.

Last but not ever least... My very best friend on the planet - You have shown me over the last 15 years what true friendship looks like. I know without a doubt you always, ALWAYS have my back. You have dug me out of some pretty dark places and while I will probably never have the opportunity to truly repay you, I do know a few secrets and they are safe with me. Toothbrushes and Weed-Be-Gone. Enough said.

I have many friends and many who are wonderful, incredible and amazing in their own right. I can't acknowledge them all, I have to work in the morning but take a minute today to let some amazing women know how you feel about them. It may just be exactly what they need to hear.

365 Days

2011-02-04T21:36:00.003-05:00

Exactly one year ago at this very minute my water broke. This was the first indication that our son would be born two and a half weeks early. Contractions ensued forty-five minutes later and that was a strong indication that we would be having a baby sooner rather than later. Less than five hours after that, our absolutely perfect baby boy was born. (You can read the entire birth story here: Birth Day )

One year later, our lives have changed in ways even we didn't expect. We've had to renegotiate everything in our lives from closet space to sleep. We've modified our work schedules, date nights and free time. We eat at noisy restaurants and plan trips around nap schedules. I learned to change a diaper in record time, but not before I had been peed on at least a hundred times before. I learned to nurse my son not only TO sleep but WHILE I was sleeping. I learned to make baby food and also learned that making Pomegranate Sauce should be left to the professionals. I’ve learned that the human body can survive on much less sleep than I would have ever imagined. I learned that the cry of a baby with colic can sound like the loudest cry you’ve ever heard. I also learned that the lack of sleep combined with that cry can make you cry…. sometimes in public. I learned that leaving your infant in daycare at only 12 weeks is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I learned that nursing my son through his first year of life and working full-time was not as easy as I thought it would be. I learned that sometimes people want to hang out with you just to see the baby. I learned that a baby cutting several teeth at once can drool more than a rabid Saint Bernard and I learned that even an 11 month old can do things you only thought started at “Terrible Two.”

I’ve learned that noisy restaurants don’t matter when all you care about is what your baby is “saying.” I’ve learned that being peed on, puked on and even pooped on can be funny under most circumstances because he’s just so cute, even THAT doesn’t matter. I’ve learned that making baby food made me feel a little closer to Max even when I was scrubbing Pomegranate seeds off the ceiling. I’ve learned that sleep just doesn’t matter as much as it used to. I’ve learned that in the middle of the night, no matter how exhausted I am, my son can look at me with just the slightest smile and I could stay up with him all night long. I learned that sometimes it’s just okay to cry… even in public. I learned that by making the very best possible choice for a daycare provider our son may not get to spend the days with his own Mommy but he gets to spend his days with another amazing Mommy and that is truly the next best thing. I learned that even when I was so busy and preoccupied at work that I actually forgot to attach the bottles to my pump being fortunate enough to be able to continue nursing made it all worth it. I learned that when our friends are more interested in seeing the baby than seeing us it serves as a reminder that the family unit we’ve created is strong, nurturing and stable and will be a wonderful place for Max to grow up. I’ve learned that drool (unless you’re wearing black) is virtually undetectable in a business meeting and I’ve learned that an 11 month old spitting his food out can be entertaining and even comical.

In the past 365 days I’ve learned that I’m not a perfect Mother, wife or friend. I’ve learned that I have a lot to learn about all three of those roles but I’ve also learned that when I look at the amazing blessing that we call Max, when he smiles, laughs, “talks” and even cries none of that matters because I am the perfect mother for him.

Dear Max,

On your first birthday, thank you for giving me one of the best years of my life. Thank you for your sweet smile, infectious laugh, the best hugs and the drooliest kisses. Thank you for making us laugh and reminding me that it’s okay to cry. I hope that when you are old enough to read this you will think that I’ve given you some of the best years of your life too! If not, it’s okay. We’re already saving for therapy.

I couldn’t have dreamt of a more perfect baby boy and I love you more than you will ever know!

Happy Birthday Sweet Boy!

Reflections and Resolutions

2011-01-26T21:06:00.001-05:00

It’s a New Year! Actually, it has been. For three weeks. There’s no question, 2010 was an amazing year! 2010 showed me a lot of things both about myself and about the people I surround myself with, some good, some bad but each a good lesson.

In February we added to our family with the birth of Mad Max! Our lives have never been the same and I mean that in the most positive of ways! Our family grew in size and strength as we all learned a different way of living life with a newborn in the house. As it turns out, I am much less flexible now than I was when Allyssa was a baby but I’m working on that.

Allyssa… Wow! What a year for her! My baby girl graduated high school in May. I have had hundreds of proud moments with my daughter but that (so far) was one near the top of the list. As I watched Allyssa cross the stage to get her diploma I tried hard to envision her as she was when she had her Kindergarten graduation but somehow the reality of her being a young adult took over and I couldn’t conjure up the image.

In June I moved her in to her dorm and she started a new chapter. Allyssa had a class that day, so I was going to go to the apartment early and she would meet me there afterward. I packed the car on move-in day and drove the 70+ miles in silence. When I got to the school I went to the residential office and got the key. The woman behind the desk said, “You don’t look old enough to have a daughter in college!” With that I burst into tears. It was a long day. I managed to pull it together before Allyssa came home and after the apartment was clean and everything was in its place it was time for me to go back home. Allyssa insisted on walking me to the car, even though I asked her not to since I could already feel the tears coming. As we got to the car I hugged my sweet girl and cried. I told her how much I loved her and how truly proud I was of her. She looked at me and said, “You should be proud of yourself. You got me here.” And with that… I cried some more. I see my daughter mature as the weeks go by and while I will probably always see her as my baby I couldn’t be more proud of the young woman she has become.

2010 was a year of many changes. I added a son and started sharing custody of my daughter with a state college over an hour away. I learned to manage my time at home more wisely and learned how to be okay with the fact that sometimes there just isn’t enough time in the day. I learned to truly accept people for what they are and to realize that some people are just not good. 2010 made me a better person and my resolution for 2011 is to continue that trend. Maybe I can update my blog more frequently too!

Allyssa's Graduating!

2010-05-25T18:44:00.001-04:00

Do you think she liked her Graduation present?

Birth Day

2010-04-11T13:02:00.015-04:00

It’s been two months since Max’s Birth Day and every day since then I’ve thought about writing about it… and then remembered (or was reminded) that my time is no longer my own and something else took precedence. Right this minute, I happen to have some time. How much time will be determined by the length of my sons nap, but I might as well get it started.

At the end of the work day on February 4^th, my new co-worker (who was in the process of being trained to do my job while I was to be out on Maternity Leave) left me at the elevator and said, “Don’t go having a baby over the weekend!” With two weeks left until my due date, I had no intention of having the baby over the weekend. I laughed, drove home, ate dinner, went to Target and got on the computer while Lisa got in the shower and Allyssa prepared for school on Friday.

It was raining (again) and I was ready for the weekend. About fifteen minutes into email and Facebook, I heard a noise that can best be described as the sound you hear when someone purposefully “pops” their back or neck but I felt it in my stomach. It wasn’t painful and for a second I thought I might have ripped my pants. After all, I was 37 ½ weeks pregnant – stranger things have happened. I stood up to find the source of the noise and to say that water was gushing out of my pants would be an understatement. I called to Lisa – at first a little panicked (mostly because there was SO MUCH WATER) and then laughed at the reality that I was in fact going to have a baby. Soon.

It was 9:00. We called the midwife to let her know what was going on and since I hadn’t yet had any contractions, she told me to go ahead and shower, try to get some sleep and if my contractions didn’t start on their own to call her in the morning. (This is one of the many wonderful things about planning for a natural childbirth!) While Lisa and Allyssa were loading the car and gathering last minute things I took a shower and dried my hair. At 9:45 I felt my first contraction. I got the timer and went about my business thinking it would 15 or more minutes before I would have another. Four minutes later I knew I wouldn’t be going to sleep – and more importantly, I knew I’d be talking to the midwife again long before the morning. We timed the contractions for about thirty minutes at four minutes apart. By 10:30 they were two minutes apart and relatively intense. By 11:00 they were a minute and a half apart and we timed them for about another half hour and then decided it was time to go. NOW!

The thirty minute ride to the hospital in the rain with very hard, very close contractions was the longest thirty minutes of my life. Allyssa followed in her car and we arrived at the hospital shortly after midnight. Allyssa and I got out at the front and Lisa went to park the cars. We walked in and were directed upstairs to labor and delivery. We took the elevator up and approximately 15 minutes later finally made it down the hall after I had to stop several times to beat on the wall to get through my contractions. Allyssa (having only attended one Bradley Class with me) did a great job talking me through and asking the nurses to wait to ask me questions until I was done. The midwife was already there and they got me to my room. I was put on a monitor for thirty minutes (standard protocol) and once that was done I was able to get up and move again. I was dilated to 8cm and my contractions were still a minute and a half apart. At this point things were getting kind of chaotic. I won’t pretend like I wasn’t in ALOT of pain, but for our family we knew natural childbirth was the way we wanted to go and I also knew at that point it couldn’t possibly be much longer. It felt like it was a hundred degrees in the room, although the nurses assured me that the thermostat was as low as it would go. Allyssa did a great job of getting me cold rags and Lisa did a great job talking me through the contractions and allowing me to use her arm as a punching bag.

I stood through my contractions and at some point I knew it was time. I told my midwife it was time for me to push. I laid down… and that’s what I started to do. The room was very dimly lit and as I was pushing, I was thinking about everything going on around me. I knew that everyone there – two nurses, a midwife, my spouse and my daughter were now all waiting on me to do my job. Everyone else had done theirs. The nurses and midwife had been very accommodating to our requests and had been very supportive and helpful during the last difficult hour of labor. Lisa and Allyssa had been nothing short of incredible. Helping to make me as comfortable as possible, talking me through the contractions, cheering me on and letting me know when each contraction was almost over. Although I later found out that their words of encouragement – “It’s almost over” was actually just something they were saying to pacify me. Neither had the heart to tell me when I asked only seconds in to a contraction, “How much longer??” that the contraction had only just started and there was nearly a full minute left. (This fact could present a problem with their credibility should I decide to have any other children.) My in-laws were in the waiting room and everyone was waiting on me, including my son.

It was then I began to think about my son who was about to be born. With every push I thought about how loved this little boy was and he wasn’t even born yet! I looked at Lisa, wide-eyed with excitement and knew without any doubt that her life would never be the same. Allyssa, with her sweet face next to mine, I knew in that moment I couldn’t be more proud of her. With every push I knew everyone was waiting on me.

As the baby crowned, I knew I was getting closer. I knew our little family of three was about to be four and that God was about to bless us more than we could have ever imagined. I don’t know how long I pushed – Lisa said it was about ten minutes. I know that on the last push, my nurse said, “This is it!” and I pushed with everything I had, I was ready to meet our new family member and I was ready to rest. Max Adric Bailey was born on February 5^th at 2:44 AM.

As he was placed on my chest, with Lisa and Allyssa beside me, at that moment there was no one else in the world but us. As we looked at Max and each other, I knew we were starting a new chapter in our lives. Lisa was about to be the mother of a newborn and Allyssa was going to be a big sister and I was about to parent a newborn in a way I never had before, as an adult, and with a partner.

About thirty minutes after Max was born, Lisa’s parents joined us in the delivery room and the birth team left us to be with our family for the next hour. We spent the next hour talking, laughing and adoring our beautiful baby boy. We left the hospital a day and a half later.

We’ve spent the last two months adjusting to life with a new baby. Allyssa has been the most amazing big sister and Max grins at the mere sound of her voice. Lisa is an amazing Mom and takes every opportunity to be with her son – even if it means that time is spent changing a dirty diaper. I have come to grips with the fact that Max is not Allyssa. He does not sleep all night and he does not wake up smiling. I am no longer making all the decisions for my child on my own and I actually have to consult with someone else on the more important ones.

Our lives have been changed. We are busy, some days we are covered up in chaos. We are unorganized and tired but as I sit here nine weeks after our son was born, finally finishing this blog, I am staring at him sound asleep in his swing and know that no matter how messy my bedroom is or how little sleep I’ve had for the last nine weeks, I don’t know how we managed to live so long without him!

Thirty-six and a half weeks down….

2010-01-26T13:54:00.000-05:00

I’ve learned a great deal about life in general while being pregnant. I’ve learned that our bodies really are amazing. A fact that escaped me when I was pregnant the first time at a very young eighteen. I’ve learned that hormones can be a powerful thing… and not always in a good way. I’ve learned that just when you thought your belly couldn’t get any bigger, it does and that no matter how much weight you have or have not gained, you still can’t bend over and touch the floor (or the numerous objects you continually drop) from a seated position. I’ve learned that if the floor wasn’t so cold, the master bathroom might be a viable sleep option since I am in there 4-6 times a night anyway.

I’ve learned that people, no matter who they are and what their intention are bound to say things that they (probably) don’t perceive as rude, but that any other pregnant woman on the planet would agree is in fact rude. The following are included in that list:

“You must be so over being pregnant!” - No, not exactly. Not every pregnant woman on the planet is miserable just waiting to get the baby out of her! However, even MORE rude than the initial assumption that you are indeed miserable is the follow up after you tell them how great your pregnancy is and how great you feel – “Well, that is just so unfair!” – Why don’t they just say, “I was miserable and I wish you were too!”

“Wow! You are HUGE!” - Thanks, I didn’t FEEL HUGE ENOUGH before you said that!

“OMG! You are even bigger than you were yesterday!!” - Really?? Even if that were true, must it be pointed out?

“You look like you could have that baby RIGHT NOW!” – Except that I’m not due for five weeks – so probably not!

“Are you SURE there’s just one in there??” – No, we decided to make it a surprise?!

“Oh… You’re pregnant???” – Seriously??? Do you think I’m just this big WITHOUT carrying a baby around in my uterus for the last 36 weeks??

And last but not least… Calling me any name other than my own. Included but not limited to; Fatty, Chunky, Preggo, etc.

I’ve come to accept all of the above as just a part of being pregnant and truthfully, I’ve enjoyed every single minute of it. The only part I haven’t accepted is that in four weeks or less – everything about our lives will change.

Stay Tuned…

Just Expecting Greatness

2009-12-14T11:01:00.002-05:00

Just Expecting Greatness…. That is what I named my Blog three years ago. Little did I know how true that could become for me in just 36 short months.

In the last three years I’ve gone from being a single parent of a fourteen year old girl, living in my house, enjoying lots of closet space and my own bathroom to now parenting a mini-grown up, getting married moving her house into my house, adding two step-dogs and now expecting a baby in just ten weeks. ALL IN THIRTY SIX SHORT MONTHS! But looking back at my very first public blog entry, reading it forward, and reading my personal journals – nothing has changed. I am still expecting greatness and in many ways, I’ve found it.

Our pastor approached me after church yesterday and asked (for sermon research purposes) what am I expecting from the journey we are about to embark on. It made me think about my expectations for myself, for my family, and for this new baby and my expectations still have not changed. I am just expecting greatness.

Greatness for me isn’t fame, money, a fancy job title or an expensive car. It’s not in an overpriced home, overpriced toys and over the limit credit cards.

Greatness for me is found in the other things. Things that others may never even notice. It’s not found in my daughter’s GPA – but in her humanity and desire to make a difference in the lives of others. It’s in her genuine smile and her open mind and heart. It’s in her sincerity and her ability to just be who she is. Even when that means ripped jeans, old converse and a hoodie. It’s in looking at her and knowing that while she may never have a clean room or be a great student, she really is a great person.

It’s looking at my spouse and knowing that every day she goes to her job, she does the best job she can. That she is reliable, honest and caring. That at home, no matter how our day went, at the end of every day I know that she’s brought me closer to the greatness I am trying to achieve in my own life.

For me it’s finding the value in my relationships. It’s trying hard to be a good spouse, mother, daughter and friend… even when I feel like I am failing miserably. It’s working hard to remember that the future doesn’t have to resemble the past. It’s trying to exceed someone’s expectations every day, even if that someone is only me.

For our new journey, the expectations are relatively high. For starters, we are quite literally expecting greatness. We chose the name Max Adric for our son. Max is my grandfather’s name and Adric was Lisa’s grandfather’s middle name. When we chose the name for it's family origins, we had no idea that the name Max means "The Greatest." So he already has allot to live up to.

We’ve spent allot of time and money preparing for this baby. We have surrounded ourselves with great family, great friends and great support system to bring him into the best world we can provide for him. I expect to have a beautiful labor and delivery. I expect to have the perfect birth story to tell and I fully expect to lose every ounce of baby weight before I go home from the hospital. Those expectations may be slightly unworthy of reality and we’ll continue to think positively and hope for the best, but once Max is here and in our arms I truly do expect great things to happen.

I expect that I will love him as much as I thought I could love no other child since the birth of my firstborn over seventeen years ago. I expect that we’ll show him how much we love him every single day for the rest of our lives – whether he wants us to or not. I expect that I’ll be better prepared for motherhood this time around. I expect that Allyssa and Lisa will be the perfect big sister and Mom and that Max will be a very happy and much loved baby. I expect that we’ll experience some growing pains as our family expands but will look at our children – one nearly an adult – and know that we are so incredibly blessed to have been given these children, any pain is definitely worth everything we have and will continue to gain.

My expectations for Max as he grows I can only assume will change as he gets older. For now, I expect that he will take on all of the positive traits that his family has to offer and become the little person he is meant to be. I expect that he’ll have Allyssa’s happy, carefree demeanor and positive outlook. I expect him to have Lisa’s sense of humor and charm. As he grows I expect him to have strong values and a sense of responsibility, not only for himself but for the things he can change in his world. I expect him to know how loved he is and to love back with all that he has. I expect him to be everything he was put here to be and more.

I imagine him to expect great things, even if his ideas of greatness don’t always match those of the rest of the world.

National Coming Out Day

2009-10-11T20:15:00.000-04:00

Today was National Coming Out Day. A day when Americans should feel comfortable enough in their own skin to “come out,” as in, out of the closet. I myself, as well as my spouse are already very comfortable in our skin and it is not a secret of any kind that we are gay. By choice we live in a very conservative state and an even more conservative county, but that does not and has not ever kept us from living our lives genuinely and we’ve never had any regrets about doing that. In fact, I oftentimes forget that our family is in a situation where we have to “come out” at all. We live like our neighbors, we work, we have a well-adjusted child, we belong to an amazing church and we have incredible friends – most of whom are not gay at all.

We have never felt personally discriminated against and while this is truly a wonderful thing it makes you forget the really important ways that the gay community IS discriminated against. This is not a political post per se, and most of you know, I don’t use the rainbow card often – but sitting in my attorney’s office two days before National Coming Out Day reminded me of why it’s important. Not only for us as gays and lesbians to live our lives genuinely, but for our straight friends and family to live that way too.

To date we’ve spent the better part of $10,000 to become pregnant with Max. TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS. To some people that is a new car, a down payment on a house or college tuition. We discussed the possibilities, pros and cons of having a baby long before we ever made an appointment with the fertility clinic. We had many conversations about how we would raise this child, the issues we might face being a two mom household with an infant and how our family and friends would react. After the decision was finally made – we began our journey. A decision made with such care and thought, we made the step and ten thousand very well spent dollars later, we are pregnant with our son.

Most people, even some of the most educated people I know are baffled by the amount of money it took and believe me when I tell you I know we were lucky to have gotten pregnant for that amount of money. We have friends who have spent double or even triple that to become parents. The even more unfathomable piece to that is that we are not done spending money to be parents.

We sat in our attorney’s office on Friday afternoon to determine the steps we have to go through to make Lisa Max’s LEGAL parent. After all the time, thought and money we’ve put into the decision to become parents, in the eyes of the law, Lisa is still not considered to be Max’s parent. If she were a man and we had met in a bar, had a one night stand and I had gotten pregnant – THEN she’d be his legal parent but the law doesn’t see our diligence, care and determination to be parents as a good enough reason to allow Lisa to parent. Instead, we have to go through an adoption process. Yes, Lisa will have to adopt our baby.

That may seem like an easy answer, but in the state of Georgia – of 159 counties there are only FOUR counties where a same-gender second parent adoption has been granted and the county we live in is not one of those counties. This means our family has to establish a “residence” in one of the other counties so that we may file our adoption papers there. It can be a temporary residence, but one has to be established. So the house that I have owned for six years, the taxes I have paid for six years, the community that I have supported for six years…. None of that matters, because I am a pregnant lesbian.

The laws set up to protect the sanctity of marriage against the gays are discriminating against our children. If for any reason we were unable to follow through with a second parent adoption, Max would be born with only one legal parent – and if anything were to happen to me, Lisa could be living without her son and Max would be living without his other mom. So we paid our $500.00 consult / start up fee and when Max is born we’ll pay another $1500.00 to give Lisa the legal rights to the son she so desperately wanted. We’ll also be paying to give Max the rights to his Mom.

Next time a vote for gay marriage comes up in your state, think about the other ways these laws discriminate against gay and lesbian families and most importantly, their (presumably) straight children.

21 Weeks... and counting.

2009-10-10T13:34:00.003-04:00

I can hardly believe it's been 21 weeks already! Finding out you're pregnant literally on your tenth day after conception can make time go by a little slowly - but looking back on the last 21 weeks -- it hasn't been so bad.

My pregnancy has continued to be one of the easiest things I've ever done and I still feel great! Aside from the occasional heartburn, it's been a really wonderful experience! We had our anatomy scan two weeks ago and found out that we are indeed having a boy! Lisa LITERALLY jumped up and down and has been grinning from ear to ear ever since. Allyssa is also excited to be having a baby brother and we are all preparing for how life will change once we have a little one in the house. He may be the one who needs to prepare since we've been testosterone free for over a decade! :)

We finally decided on a name for our little man last weekend. In the running were; Mason, Sawyer, Kellen and Max and Grant. We finally agreed on Max. Max is grandfathers name and the middle name, Adric - was Lisa's grandfather's middle name.

SO... In just 19 weeks he'll be here. Max Adric Bailey. I can only hope the last half of my pregnancy goes as wonderfully smooth as the first half has!

Birthday Breakfast

2009-09-09T11:15:00.001-04:00

Today was our 4th Annual Birthday Breakfast. For those that don’t know, birthday breakfast typically takes place on Allyssa’s birthday. We get up early, we pick up two of Allyssa’s best friends and then we go to Cracker Barrel. The girls are always in their pajamas and Allyssa is always wearing a tiara. There have been talks of adding boas or a birthday sash and I think the idea of going into C.B. in a wagon even came up once, although that never materialized. Cracker Barrel is never really crowded at 6:30 in the morning, but we are always the youngest people in there.

We’ve done Birthday Breakfast since Allyssa was a freshman, a tradition I wish we’d had begun earlier. From the silly, Layla wishing for a serenade from E.W. until K.S. stole him away – which we established this morning wasn’t necessarily a bad thing since E.W. turned out to be a dirt bag. To the serious, which I won’t discuss here but the one I’m talking about will know who she is and what it was. I think we’ve covered it all. They laugh with each other, they laugh at each other and they make each other laugh.

Not a whole lot has changed since our first Birthday Breakfast. Physically, they all look about the same. I think Layla will always have long curly red hair and while Allison’s hair has purple streaks in it at the moment, the girls just are who they are and have been since the day I met them. I watched the girls this morning and much like that first birthday breakfast four years ago, the girls were happy and excited. Allison ate off everyone’s plate and probably could have eaten more, Layla pretended she would share the last bite of the birthday cake and ice cream but then scooped it all up and finished it off herself. Allyssa had us all on the verge of wetting our pants when our crabby waitress decided to sing Happy Birthday in hushed tones and then Allyssa proceeded to imitate her with amazing accuracy.

I watched the girls and thought about the kind of women they are becoming and the kind of friends they have been to Allyssa. I thought of her other best friend Megan who goes to a different school and couldn’t attend birthday breakfast and wondered how one child, my child, has managed to surround herself with such good kids. I thought of their families and the friendship their own parents have shown us. I wondered if their parents know what amazing young women they've all turned out to be. Megan with her strong values, intelligence and ability to make us all laugh, Allison with her determination, naiveté and ability to laugh at herself, Layla with an incredible sense of self, her convictions and her ability to make light of any situation and Allyssa with her sense of humor, open mind and genuinely sweet spirit. I thought of the other “friends” Allyssa has had along the way – the ones that I knew very early on would be trouble and thought about all the reasons these four turned out different.

I was saddened by the thought that for next years birthday breakfast I just might be alone since the girls could very well all be away at different colleges. I thought about how much these girls mean to Allyssa and how much their friendship to her has meant to me. I thought about how truly blessed my daughter is to have such strong, amazing young women as her best friends. I thought of my own best friends from junior high and high school, some who are still dear friends to this day and hoped that these girls know what a true gift their friendship is.

Nameless Peanut

2009-08-26T06:53:00.001-04:00

Nameless Peanut. That is what we are calling our baby. Nameless Peanut Bailey. We don't know what we are having yet, we can't agree on a name and at last look our little fetus resembled a peanut. So there ya go...

We were 9 weeks and three days pregnant when we met our midwife for the first time. We thought we would get to hear the heartbeat but couldn't so she let us look at NPB instead. We sat in the ultrasound room waiting on our midwife (who is ABSOLUTELY amazing by the way) and were talking and laughing. The midwife came in and we started looking for NPB and there he/she was! Moving around like he/she was doing the Cha Cha Slide and posing for the ultrasound camera.

I looked at Lisa and was reminded how much my life had changed in the last three years. I was reminded with every laugh how blessed I am to have found who I believe to be my souls mate and how incredibly lucky we both are to be experiencing this together. I thought of our friends and family and realized how deeply loved this child will be. I thought of Allyssa and how I would have loved to have had an older sister who will be as great as she will be! I thought of our parents and know that even though they sometimes struggle with our family make up, they'll continue to be the most terrific grandparents a child could ask for. I thought about our house, our cars and our neighborhood. I thought about how much we have to offer this child and how much this child will have to offer us. As the midwife printed off our picture and turned off the ultrasound machine I thought about how in love we are with our little peanut and he / she doesn't even have a name yet!

All is well in pregnancy land.

Pregnant...Again.

2009-08-19T21:02:00.000-04:00

So… I’m pregnant. Again. I haven’t been pregnant in almost seventeen years, but this time I’m pregnant on purpose. If you are a reader of my blog or just a friend, you probably know about my first pregnancy so I won’t bore you again with all the details, but will update new readers on the basic facts: I was a relatively responsible teenager, on birth control pills, even took them every day, had sex three times and was pregnant at seventeen. It was shocking, difficult and frightening at times – but sixteen years later I have an incredibly amazing daughter to show for it. There are several past blogs with details about how great she is if you’re interested.

So here I am again… Much older, I hope to be much wiser and 8 weeks pregnant. (By the time you read this blog I am more likely to be 12-14 weeks pregnant.)

It is absolutely mind-boggling how things change in seventeen years! I was speaking to my friend Cerena on the phone last night. She gave birth to her first daughter the day after I gave birth to mine. A few years later she had a son and ten years after that she had another son and now has an additional daughter who is two. We discussed how different our grown up pregnancies were from our teen pregnancies. When I was pregnant with Allyssa I had zero fear of anything other than gaining weight and my skin breaking out. I didn’t fear miscarriage, genetic disorders or SIDS. I didn’t obsess over the size of my fetus, my HcG levels, how fast or slow the heart rate was and whether or not I should eat certain cheeses. With the Internet and age, I’ve learned to obsess (rather well, I might add) about all those things and more. I have visited more pregnancy web sites than I ever would have imagined existed. I have read about the baby’s development from week 4 to week 40 more times than I can count and have the “How Big Is My Baby” chart memorized. For the record, Baby Bailey is about the size of a grape this week! When I was pregnant with my daughter, I threw up daily from week 7 to week 18. When I reached week seven of this pregnancy and wasn’t sick, I was instantly worried (not relieved) that something must be wrong. With every ache, cramp and twinge, I am certain that something could be going wrong and on most occasions I’ll spontaneously burst out in tears.

This brings me to hormones…. When I was pregnant at seventeen, I didn’t notice any changes to my body – other than my jeans were too tight and that throwing up thing. I didn’t recognize the difference in my emotions; I was a seventeen year old girl, I was probably already moody. At 35, things are very different. For instance, Braves player Jeff Francoeur was traded to the Mets last week. The Mets played the Braves at home last night and when Francoeur came up to bat, the Atlanta crowd gave him a standing ovation and the pitcher stepped off the mound to give him a few seconds to take everything in. I wasn’t at the game, didn’t even watch it on TV. I am a Braves fan and I guess Jeff Francoeur is a good guy but don’t know for sure. However, when I heard the sports news on the radio and heard the DJ talk about the crowd and the standing ovation. I literally cried. AND I recognized that it was ridiculous – which I think might make me even crazier! I cry over my Pastors blogs, I cry over movies, television shows and commercials. I cried yesterday after my conversation with Cerena and she told me she loved it that her last two didn’t sleep all night because she wanted to have more time with them. I’ve turned into my own water source!

Other than the obsessing, crying and the need for an 8:00 pm bedtime… my pregnancy is going great and we can’t wait for the next 32 weeks!

Moving on to Plan B

2009-08-09T14:06:00.000-04:00

So we've had three more fertility cycles since my last post (Soooooo???? February 2009) my intention was to write and write until I couldn't write anymore and document the entire process. However, the failed cycles cut allot deeper than I ever thought they would and I was simply tired of talking about it. So I stopped.

We started our Journey To Baby Bailey in May of 2008, so EVERY MONTH for over a year I've been poked, prodded and / or peed on a stick to check my ovulation and in three of the cycles to check for pregnancy and frankly - I was over it. I thought when we started this we would try until we got pregnant. SEVERAL thousand dollars later and countless hours of tears, I was done. I thought I was stronger but I just didn't have it in me.

I went through all of the emotions and with each failed cycle it got worse. I looked around at countless children who are not adequately cared for by their parents and wondered how someone like that could have not one... but two... or three or more children but we couldn't manage to get one. I heard the good news of friends and family members who were adding to their families and wondered why it seemed so easy for the rest of the world but it wasn't happening for us?

After the third failed cycle, I admitted defeat and we talked about ending our fertility treatments. We talked about money, we talked about the emotional aspect and we talked about regret. At that point we decided to give it one more try. I knew for the sake of my amazing family, I should try one more time. We had enough room in the budget for one more round and I felt like Lisa deserved that. I have a child and know that there is nothing better (to me) than being that child's mom but Lisa didn't know what that was like. I felt like I owed it to her, myself and our family to try again... and we did.

I spent the week of the pending insemination irritated and almost angry. I was angry at the money we had spent. I was angry at the results and I was angry that almost a year of my life had been lost to failed fertility treatment. The day of the insemination (one of two – since our doctor inseminates twice per ovulation) I waited in the doctors office and was looking around with the understanding that this would be one of the last times I sat in this office for this procedure. I was relieved. When I was called back and the doctor came in she said, “It’s good to see you.” I said, “It’s good to see you too, but I’m really getting tired of hanging out with you people.” She laughed. I told her I was on my way to Six Flags that morning when I got the Smiley Face indicating ovulation and asked her if it was okay to go forward with our day as planned. She said yes… and we completed the procedure in silence. I was bored. I didn’t lie there staring at the ceiling like before with visions of chubby faced babies and pacifiers running through my head. I stared at the ceiling tiles and wondered how long the line to Superman would be when we finally got to Six Flags. My mind and heart had clearly moved on. It was then I made the decision to move on to Plan B.

Plan B is what allot of 35 year olds dream of. It’s having raised your child, sent her off to college, having no bills except the mortgage and vacationing at very cool places a couple of times a year with NO KIDS, all before the ripe old age of thirty-six! It's moving in town because you don't care what school district you live in, it's driving a two-door, staying up late and sleeping in until noon. It’s eating where you want and not wondering if the restaurant has a kids menu or a high chair. It’s laughing on the inside when your friends with infants can’t hang out past eleven because the babysitter has a curfew. It’s long motorcycle rides and overnight trips to nowhere, for no reason. It’s wearing your “good” clothes because you know they won’t get spit up on and it’s having a family, a career and a savings account and never again having to clean up a toddlers vomit. The more I thought about Plan B, the more I was getting used to it. If we couldn’t have another child we might as well be young enough to enjoy our empty nest! Separately, if my wonderfully amazing daughter follows the plan I have in mind for her – she’d still make me a Grandma before I hit fifty and I’ve heard that is an even better alternative. You can send those kids home! Yes, I had decided... Plan B was a good way to go.

I finished the first week following insemination and truthfully never really thought of it again. We talked about the new car we were going to be buying now that our sixteen year old had taken over the family sedan and decided where we would go on Allyssa’s graduation cruise. I went to work and shared with the one co-worker and friend who knew we had gone ahead with the fourth and final try that I truly had gotten over it. I was very ready for another negative pregnancy test so that I could move on with my life, so that I could get busy on Plan B! I even continued to use the Espresso machine that I got for Mother’s Day and had adjusted (rather excitedly) to the fact that I will never in my life have to change a diaper unless I just want to. The second week I could feel the elation in knowing that on Monday, June 15th (the day after we got confirmation from the fertility clinic that we were once again negative) my life would continue on, KNOWING not WONDERING that we would continue to be blessed with the one and only child that we already have.

Friday, June 12th at 4:30 AM I got up to get ready for work. I walked into the bathroom and looked at the pregnancy tests staring at me from the cabinet. I decided to take one since we were having dinner with friends the next day and I was more than happy to be able to indulge in a margarita… or three. In less than five minutes, Plan B went out the window with one word…. “Pregnant.” I picked up the Clear Blue Easy and looked at it again. I stared at it for what felt like an hour but I am sure was less than a minute. My eyes filled with tears and I went and woke Lisa with the news. I was physically shaking when I told her and we both agreed that it was a very bizarre feeling to be so completely surprised to be pregnant when we had been trying so hard to become that way.

So… Plan B has now reverted back to what THIS particular 35 year old is now dreaming of. Morning sickness, weight gain, out of control emotions and child birth. Late nights, early mornings, diapers, spit up and sneakers instead of four inch heels. An SUV instead of a two-door and a nursery instead of an office. Chubby cheeks, toothless grins, the smell of baby lotion and the sight of tiny toes. Watching a child grow into an amazing young person like their older sister who is a happy, healthy, extremely well-adjusted sixteen year old who will be seventeen when she FINALLY gets a sibling. Having it all… my family, my career and a baby that will have cost us more to get him / her here than it will cost us in his / her first year of life… all the while I will love every single second of it. Morning sickness and all!

Seniors 2010

2009-08-03T10:07:00.008-04:00

Seniors 2010... that is what I heard and saw all weekend long. When my daughter excitedly talked to her friends on the phone about the impending first day of school and the fact that they are now Seniors. More than one of her friends who are on my Facebook friends list commented on the fact in their Facebook status updates. From my faux daughter Allision - "I'm not excited about school tomorrow, but I'm a Senior!!" From someone else that will remain anonymous - "Seniors 2010 - F*@K Yeah!" And my favorite from my would be adopted son Evan - ... "I've already got Senioritis!" Allyssa's update was an inside joke from our Annual Mother / Daughter weekend.... That thankfully did not include the F word.

It's hard to believe that my daughter is a Senior in high school. I remember my Mom telling me that time flies. She wasn't lying. On an almost daily basis it feels like yesterday that we were going to pre-school. For twelve years I've driven Allyssa to school on the first day. Even last year when she had friends that were driving I still drove her and faux daughter Allison to school. I always expect a hug and a kiss and last year, the front of the school was packed with kids and she didn't want to hug and kiss me goodbye. I told her that if she didn't, I would start honking the horn until she did. She laughed (although I wasn't kidding) and promptly gave me a hug and a kiss.

Yesterday on our way home from Mother / Daughter weekend we talked about the upcoming school week and talked about clothes, friends and lunch. Allyssa stopped and said, "Oh! This is the first year I get to drive to school!" I said, "Oh yeah! Did you get your parking permit?" "No, we pick them up in the morning! But this is the first year you won't have to drive me to school!" The very second she finished her sentence I could feel the lump in my throat and my face begin to get red. I knew I was going to cry right then... And I did.

This morning I woke Allyssa up as I was leaving for work. I went in and sat on the side of her bed for a minute. I looked at the child who on her first day of Kindegarten was just over 35 pounds. The child who for five basketball seasons was dwarfed by other girls her age. The child whose first pair of soccer cleats had to be ordered because I couldn't find them to fit her tiny feet. I looked at my child now, standing as tall (or as short) as I am, the child who wears the same size shoe I do and the child who is now old enough to work, drive and date. I touched the side of her face and told her it was time to wake up. She opened one eye and gave me a half smile and closed her eyes again. I kissed her cheek, reminded her of the time and told her to have a great day. I stood up and looked at my child, the child who lives for music, text messaging and chinese food. My child who no longer needs a ride on the first day of school and who will never again be bullied into hugging and kissing her Mom goodbye in the school parking lot. I turned to walk away and she said in a half asleep voice, "Momma... I love you." I looked back and saw my teenager. A kid who doesn't have a mean bone in her body, a kid with a great sense of humor, who loves her friends and even still loves her family. A kid who even though she can't remember to feed the dogs or hang up her towel is still by all accounts (not just that of her Mother) one of the greatest teenagers around!

Times... They just might be changing...

2009-05-19T06:30:00.001-04:00

I spent my entire weekend in church. Friday night I was at a wedding rehearsal to meter the lighting for the wedding I was to shoot the next day. Saturday I arrived an hour and a half before the wedding to prepare and shoot the details. As I prepared, I watched as everyone else also prepared. The wedding planner was gathering last minute items, waiting on the caterer and lighting candles. The musician arrived and was tuning her guitar. The sound guy was setting up her mic and the cake was coming in the door. The minutes passed quickly and before I knew it, the right song was playing and I knew it was time. The candles lit, the music perfect, the pastor entered and the attendants followed. The couple’s song began and they entered the church together. Hand in hand they walked down the aisle and met the pastor at the front of the church, in front of the communion table. This wasn’t my first job as a wedding photographer, but it was my first experience in the UCC Church setting.

The pastor gave the standard announcement and the couple joined hands and prayed. There were a couple of readings and a short homily. The pastor invited the wedding guests to stand and offer their support to the couple and then the couple passed their wedding rings around the church so that every individual could bless the rings in their own way. As the photographer, all of this is kind of a blur. I am not sure if I have the order of events correct and I am not even sure if there may have been another song in there somewhere. As the photographer, you get lost in the moment of the frame and lose some of the experience....

Sunday we slept in but I made my way toward the church at 12:30 for Confirmation Class. No... I am not being confirmed at 35 years old. I was actually asked to be a confirmation mentor. A thought that still gives me pause.... Me. A confirmation MENTOR?? A MENTOR FOR A TEENAGER? I was pregnant at 17, married at 18 and divorced at 20. Ten years ago I discovered my inner Lesbian and last year ran off an married a woman! Am I really fit to be anyone's mentor? Apparently at my church they think I am. I sat in the class and listened. I listened as the kids, some wiser than they should be at fourteen talked about how they haven't been welcomed at other churches because of the religious beliefs of their parents among other things. I looked around and listened to these middle and high school students talk about what they thought prayer was, what they thought worship was and what part of worship was important to them. We talked about communion and what it means to some of us and why we think it's important to each of us as individuals. We gave our reasons and my own personal reason brought me back to the wedding on Saturday...

With the couple smiling from ear to ear, I changed my lens and the pastor prepared for communion. The communion prayer was said and everyone was welcomed to the communion table. I heard the pastor say, “No matter where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here.” Or at least I thought I heard that, I really can’t be sure, I know I've heard it before – but at the moment when communion began – I moved to the back of the church and had one of only a handful of still moments to myself. No lens to obstruct my vision, no person making a request for a family photo, just me in the back of a church, looking at the enormous cross behind the pulpit, watching as two women were being married. Where two women were serving their friends and family communion. Where the female pastor blessed the rings and welcomed ALL to the table. Where the wedding guests came from all walks of life and all came together to celebrate the love of two people, even if those two people were of the same gender. I looked at the church, my church. I looked at the pastor, my pastor and I looked to the front of the church where my daughter and my own spouse sat and realized how unbelievably blessed I am to have found such an amazing community to be a part of.

Re-Married... Withouth a Divorce

2009-04-14T08:29:00.002-04:00

I officially made it through my first year of marriage! I think it’s safe to say that it exceeded my expectations – because frankly, I had none. I made a great choice and hoped for the best... and it worked! In the past year we’ve had personal successes and personal failures. We’ve laughed, cried and laughed some more. All in all, it’s been a really great twelve months.

When we were originally planning our wedding we had every intention on going to the great state of Massachusetts, the only state at the time to allow and recognize same-sex marriage. However, they had a residency loophole so we decided just to do our wedding our way and legalize it some other day. Just one short year later with Massachusetts no longer requiring residency we now have FOUR states that have marched into the 21st Century and are allowing and fully recognizing same-sex marriages. So... We flew into Boston a week ago last Friday and did the tourist thing for three days. After that we headed out to Cape Cod to hang with some friends and to get RE-Married on our anniversary.

In order to get married on our actual anniversary, we needed a waiver from a local courthouse excuse us from the three day requirement Massachusetts has for marriage licenses. As we walked up to the courthouse is a VERY small town called Barnstable on Cape Cod, I could feel just the slightest bit of nervousness. I am completely open and honest about my personal life, but I have spent most of my adult life in the South and I would NOT feel good about going into the courthouse in my county with my female partner and inquiring about a marriage license.

We walked in and were greeted by a female Deputy who appeared to be straight; she smiled and asked in a very heavy New England accent if we knew where we needed to be. I told her we were there to get a waiver for the marriage license. I thought she was going to come across the table and hug us both! She smiled and told us what floor we needed to be on and what we needed to ask for. She congratulated us and sent us on our way. In the court clerk’s office, we received the same response and had our waiver signed by the judge in less than 20 minutes. We proceeded to the Town Clerk's office in the town we planned to marry in and received an almost warmer response with the clerk offering up romantic spots for walks along the beach.

Lisa and I finished preparing for our "Re-Marriage" feeling a little surprised and also a little saddened. We were surprised that EVERYONE we came in contact with; male, female, old, young – they all gave us the same response – sincere congratulations and well wishes. At the same time we were saddened that there are 46 other states (our own home state included) that wouldn’t recognize our union and in most cases have and continue to adamantly fight against same-sex marriage.

With that, Wednesday, April 8th Lisa and I celebrated our first anniversary as a married couple saying our religious (and legal) vows with a UCC Pastor on a rock jetty in Provincetown Massachusetts. It was a lot colder on Cape Cod than it was last year in Key West but we made it through the year and now have a legal marriage license to prove it! Maybe on our second anniversary we will have recognition in our own state??

A girl can dream can’t she??

Funny Face Pancakes

2009-02-24T09:33:00.003-05:00

It’s never been a question of whether my daughter was going to attend college, she’s always known it was an expectation and she’s always wanted to go. She’s maintained that she wants to teach since about the third grade and that is still her goal. However, while looking at my third grader, with her braids and bruised shins, far more interested in softball and soccer than school - none of that really seemed like a reality. Driving nearly 200 miles from home last Thursday to her first college visit it all suddenly seemed very real. Very real.

We left our house at 6:30 AM. The campus tour didn’t begin until 11:00 but for those of you not living in Atlanta I-75 traffic can never be underestimated. We made it through the city without even a tap of the brakes, so we knew we’d be early. We stopped on the way down at an IHop for breakfast. When Allyssa was younger, she used to love the Funny Face Pancakes. We went in to the restaurant and she was still excited to order the Funny Face Pancake. Much to her dismay, they were on the children’s menu – for kids 12 and under. We talked about the unfairness of life in general and when the waitress came Allyssa ordered the regular Chocolate Chip Pancakes – but had “a small request.” “Can you please ask them to make it a Funny Face Pancake? I used to love ordering those, but they are on the kids menu.” I laughed and thought about how the lady must think the kid is crazy but then she turned to me and said, “It’s so nice to see a teenager who is still interested in being a kid.” As she turned and walked toward the kitchen I looked at Allyssa and agreed…. It is really nice.

After Allyssa’s carb overload at breakfast she promptly fell asleep in the car. As I drove in silence I realized how far away from home we were. In the physical sense, we were literally in the middle of the state and in the middle of nowhere. But in the general sense, I looked at my sleeping child and wondered where the time had gone. How on earth could I have a daughter old enough to be visiting colleges? I thought about how both our lives had changed so much in the last sixteen and a half years and how far away we were from where we had started.

We arrived in the small (VERY SMALL) college town about an hour before the tour was to start. Allyssa woke up in time to realize that we had left the city or any indication of a city in the IHop parking lot. We drove around the town to see where the important landmarks were. Target, Publix, the AT&T store, the mall… We found that all those places were thirty miles away. However, there was a Piggly Wiggly, (which is a very small grocery store) a Dollar General, CVS, Walgreens and a gas station. There were also the two token fast food restaurants right across the street from the college.

When we pulled into the parking space in front of the college, I looked around at the students and felt the lump in my throat. I closed my eyes and vowed not to start crying in front of her. We went to the information center and waited for the tour to start. We were joined by three other families and our group was led by a second year female student with an accent so thick I had to ask her to repeat herself, more than once. I looked around the campus at all the other kids. They didn’t look like my daughter. They looked older, smarter and more independent. I quickly (and sadly) realized those were things I wanted for my daughter, even though the realization stung just a tiny bit.

We learned about the schools history, the class sizes and campus life in general. We toured several of the buildings, a couple of cafeterias and one of the dorms. I learned that college kids eat allot better than one would have thought and that unless you maintain a 3.0 you live in a co-ed dorm. I watched as Allyssa interacted and asked questions. I could see the excitement in her eyes when we toured the Drama building and looked in the theatre. My minds eye took me back to the days when she would beg me to come watch her performance of the Little Mermaid’s Under the Sea – but she didn’t know the words, so she sang it as, “I’m not a C.” Or when her very soulful (eyes closed and everything) rendition of Swing Low Sweet Chariot turned into Swing Low Sweet Cherries On. I thought of my nine year old quoting every line – voices included – to Dana Carvey’s Master of Disguise for what felt like days on end and how much I JUST WANTED IT TO STOP!!! I smiled to myself and wondered if I could get her to do just a couple of the lines again.

When the tour was over, we headed home, Allyssa grinning from ear to ear. She was very excited about the school, what it had to offer and the reality of the fact that in the fall of 2010, she’ll be a college student if not there, somewhere. I was genuinely happy for my daughter but as she went back to sleep somewhere around Macon, I went ahead and let the tears fall because while we have our good days and bad days just like every other family in America, not only do I really love that kid but I really like her allot too!

Soooo??

2009-02-15T02:09:00.006-05:00

Sooo.... it's been over a month since my last post and most of you already know, we are not pregnant. While I can almost actually HEAR the disappointment... it's okay... really. Admittedly, I was disappointed at first, but had some pretty good indications that I wasn't pregnant before the actual test. So I had about a week to get over it. We are getting prepared for another cycle. SO... keep your fingers crossed for us.

Separately, I am back on the Clomid! WOO HOO! (See post from December 19th.) Except THIS time - as luck would have it, I get to have an INCREASED dosage. Which let me tell you is EFFEN AWESOME! (I know sarcasm is hard to read in email... but if you DIDN'T get it... THAT was meant to be sarcastic.)

So this time (so far, I am only one day into the med cycle)
I've been a raging bitch, (although I could attribute that to another situation) I can't sleep, and when I actually WAS sleeping, I was having the most bizarre dreams that I am not sure that I wouldn't rather be awake. BUT the best part is I've been extremely tired since about four hours after my dose - which was at 9:00 Saturday morning. It's currently 2:00 on Sunday MORNING! Which really helps with the aggression factor.

All that to say this: No, we're not pregnant and PLEASE pray (or whatever you do) for me (AND my family's) sanity while we go on to day two of the Clomid.

Only three more days to go....

The Wait Is On

2009-01-05T06:15:00.000-05:00

I’ve always wondered about the people that know the exact date their child / children were conceived. Are they so Type A that nothing can be spontaneous, are they working really hard at building a family or is their sex life THAT non-existent? I never really thought about the fact there is another sexless option, that is until we started going through our Quest for Baby Bailey.

Two weeks ago our journey took us to the final phase of our first cycle of treatment, the insemination. After countless vials of blood, multiple ultrasounds and hundreds of dollars, we were ready to inseminate. Since we made the decision to grow our family, I have had some pretty strong impressions of how things were going to go. Being a very traditional oldest child, Type A personality myself, I knew that every vision I had of the entire process would certainly be exactly the way things would go. I hadn’t thought much about the testing phases, or the drugs, but I had ideas about the insemination.

Surprisingly, (since I am a lesbian with friends who have become pregnant this way) I had NO real idea of how the actual insemination would be but in my minds eye it was going to be beautiful! I would wake up, get another smiley face on the little pink stick and call for the appointment. It would be a wonderfully warm day, the sun would be shining and all things in nature would be in perfect harmony as we walked into the fertility clinic. Hand in hand we’d laugh and joke about the names we discussed, visiting with other parents-to-be while we waited to be called back. The exam room would be warmer than usual and have a soft glow to it that I hadn’t noticed before. We’d briefly talk to the doctor and would lovingly look into each others eyes while the painless process was taking place. Anyone who has done it knows that is exactly how it goes, right??

Anyone who knows me knows I firmly believe that every single thing that happens in your life happens for a reason. I believe that there are lessons in everything and if you fail to learn the lesson, you’ll continue to encounter situations in which the lesson can be learned again. Knowing this, I have yet to wrap my head around this life lesson – Everything does not revolve around me AND things will not always happen the way that I think they should. (Regardless of the fact that my way is almost always the best way!!)

This is where I’ll stop. I’ve written and re-written this blog… and just didn’t really find anything interesting or amusing about the long drawn out version… so the short of it is this: The insemination was not what I expected it to be. It was raining outside, Lisa wasn’t able to join me, the room wasn’t warm and the procedure wasn’t painless. Hell, I was (hopefully) getting pregnant and they didn’t even dim the lights and turn on some music and let me tell you, for the amount of money, that (insert expletive here) should be included! Nevertheless, it’s done…. And now we wait.

The Process Continues

2008-12-17T19:45:00.002-05:00

Since my last post we finally got the ever coveted LH Surge – which indicated ovulation! So now that my eggs are doing what they are supposed to do, our quest for Baby Bailey took us for our first phase of treatment.

The first phase was to do an ultrasound to make sure I had egg follicles. SCORE! We have a total of FOURTEEN! This sounds like an incredible number, but in reality, is really just a little above average. Being the Type-A that I am… Average didn't sound good… but I guess in this case it is. Then they went for the blood. NINE (not exaggerating) vials and FIVE needles later they had what they needed. Tests all came back normal and I started the fertility drugs.

So my drug of choice (coming from someone who literally does not take Tylenol and hasn't for over a decade) is Clomid. If you've ever known anyone on fertility medication, you may have heard about some of the less desirable side affects, the main one being homicidal tendencies. Needless to say, it's been an interesting couple of days. While I haven't yet wanted to literally kill someone – well, there was that one incident in traffic – I have definitely had to TRY to keep my emotions under control. I felt myself tearing up when my daughter told me she wanted to eat cereal for dinner and the other day at work I nearly cried when I opened my lunch box and saw the contents. The lunch that I myself had packed all of it very good and balanced, I even included a fat free pudding cup but stopped shy of writing myself a note. I don't know why this alone turned on the water works but it did. Just like the newest Publix commercial, a State Farm commercial, (www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_dkyByzD-Y) the trailer for Marley & Me and a Jennifer Anniston plug for St. Jude. All brought me to tears and the last two in a packed movie theater before the movie had even started! Never mind the crying that took place DURING the movie… a comedy that I am fairly confident didn’t have anyone else crying in their seat!

This process is teaching me allot about myself, the Lovely Lisa and the Amazing Allyssa. I am learning that yes, indeed I am a control freak. So… being completely out of control of my emotions has taken some adjusting to. Lisa is truly a jewel. She looks at me with a look of utter confusion and disbelief (one would if nearly every holiday commercial on TV brought you to tears) but still smiles as if to have me believe she doesn’t think I’m crazy and Allyssa… Allyssa has a great sense of humor. One day, should she survive this process, it will serve her well.

And so it goes….

Ovulation, Smovulation!

2008-11-17T17:44:00.001-05:00

It's Monday again... and we've been on our journey for Baby Bailey for what seems like years. I've learned allot over the past few months, about myself, about the lovely Lisa, about other people and about the human body. More specifically MY human body. The body that isn't really cooperating with this whole process to pregnancy.

Yes... it's true. The same body, albeit older and wiser (and wider) that got me pregnant on birth control pills (thank you Ortho Novum) at the ripe old age of seventeen has decided that ovulation and a regular menstrual cycle really needn't be part of the plan. So while I pee on a stick every morning and hope for the smiley face that tells me that I have the achieved the ever so coveted LH Surge (at a cost of $40.00 per week) I relive the day I realized I was pregnant with my daughter Allyssa. I had been dating my boyfriend for a little over a year. Had been taking the pill for about three months, had sex three times and when I didn't get my period on day two of the little pink pills I just knew it. I got in the shower that morning and cried. I even said a prayer out loud... it went something like this, "Dear God, PLEASE, PLEASE don't let me be pregnant. I will NEVER have sex again... just PLEASE don't let me be pregnant." That was on a Thursday.

I don't think I could have been any less prepared to be someones mother back then. I was a senior in high school, I was counting down the days until I went away for college... Away from my parents, away from the small town I grew up in, away from what I perceived as my boring reality. Soon I realized the only place I'd be going was to Lamaze Class. I never weighed my options. The thought of an abortion or adoption never occurred to me and that September I gave birth to my almost nine pound baby girl and have never thought twice about it.

Here I am sixteen years later and if it were humanly possible for me to get pregnant by accident, I'd pray for it every day! While I think you can always be MORE prepared to have children, we've done a pretty good job of preparing ourselves for our future and whatever it may bring. My friend Heidi said I'd get pregnant right away if I'd just quit my job, blow through my savings and start sleeping with losers. I think for now I'll just continue to wait.

SO COME ON EGGS!! Do your thing!!!

What I Do Know...

2008-11-10T16:32:00.004-05:00

A week ago Saturday, Kim – who is the mother of my daughter's best friend called. Her sister who was diagnosed with Leukemia over the summer was succumbing to the illness and had been sent home to pass. Through her tears she asked me to help with her daughter's birthday party while she was out paying for her baby sister's burial plot. My heart broke for their family.

A day later on Sunday after a really great day; church, lunch with friends, seeing our friend and now pastor being ordained and installed we went home to wind down. After we had been home for about an hour, my daughter called to me from upstairs. Her voice was quivering and we immediately knew something wasn't right. When we got to her and asked what was wrong, through tears and terror she somehow managed to tell us that her friend Ken had killed himself earlier that day. Through shock, horror and a deep sadness I clung to my daughter and mourned for his family. My heart broke for my daughter. My heart broke for Ken and my heart broke for his family.

As I spent the next several hours consoling my child and myself I wondered how this could have happened. How could a young man, so full of life and so full of promise have found himself in such a place of despair? How could the son of a minister, a student on an ROTC Scholarship at Auburn who had everything on earth to live for, someone’s son, someone’s brother, someone’s friend and someone who by all accounts made everyone else smile…. How could that someone take his own life? How would his poor mother ever manage to wake up and go on knowing that her oldest son couldn't? How would his father hold on to his faith while he was missing his son? How would his brother (another good friend of my daughter) get up every day and carry on without his big brother, his hero, his friend? And how was I to console my own child who was suffering her second tragic loss in her very young life when I could hardly console myself?

Wednesday my daughter's best friends Aunt passed away and my daughter spent five hours that night at a funeral home because her best friend wanted her there. In two days we had two visitations and two funerals on our calendar. Saturday we attended Ken’s funeral. This was the second funeral for a child we’ve attended in just over two years. One child's funeral in a lifetime is almost inconceivable… I am not quite sure how I managed two.

I was amazed that Ken's father preached his own son's funeral. He didn't seem bitter, angry or confused but was clearly holding on desperately to his faith while mourning the loss of his oldest son. His mother hugged me tightly but still managed to put a smile on her tear stained face when she told me it was nice to see me. I sat through the service wondering how those poor people would go back to a house where their son had taken his own life. How they would set a table, minus a place setting. How the upcoming holiday season would be like none other while there was one less person to shop for and one less smiling face opening gifts on Christmas morning. While I cried through a two and a half hour service I recognized that they have a strength I will never possess.

Anyone who knows me knows that I firmly believe there is a lesson in everything. I don't know what my lesson is but I do know that a week later I still physically ache for this family, for my daughter and her friends. I do know that while a young mother of two lay dying at home wishing for just one more day with her loved ones, a young man was on the other side of town wishing that he were dead for reasons that anyone over the age of 30 would have known were just not that serious. I do know that my daughter has experienced loss like I never had to at her age and I wish more than anything in the world I could kept her from that.

And the lucky number is.....

2008-09-18T09:43:00.000-04:00

Blonde hair, blue or green eyes, 6'0 or taller, athletic, funny, smart.... You wouldn't think these traits would be that difficult to come by! Think again!! Six sperm banks and approximately one hundred and eighty-three donor profiles later, we've finally found our guy. The specimen that will someday contribute to our future child's DNA is on its way to Atlanta via FedEx and dry ice as we speak.

Admittedly, my attitude about the whole thing had become less than positive. I had been beaten down by the dozens of profiles that were not only NOT perfect -- but in my opinion wouldn't even qualify as mediocre. There was the very self-assured guy who said while he never wanted to have children of his own he was donating so that as many children as possible could be blessed with his athletic ability, good looks, well above average intelligence and amazing physique. There was a political activist who used his essay portion of the profile to explain how corrupt our society is and how he would probably never bring a child into the world, but since the money was decent, he'd donate so others could if they wanted. Then there were the donors that while I thought they would be a good candidate - the yoga loving, philosophy major… the lovely Lisa didn't feel the same way. I think her exact words were - He's a total and complete tool. Then there were her choices - the manly man that loved sports and the outdoors - but when it came to the clinic staff impressions he was polite, but all business and seemed nervous. (What is there to be nervous about??) Oh, and there was a slight case of alcoholism in his family.

Monday night, at the end of my rope -- I suggested to Lisa that we re-enter our search criteria at the bank we had decided to use and look again. Maybe we had missed a good one? Surely there had to be ONE that we could both agree on??! So we did. We checked all the appropriate boxes and hit the search button. We opened up the second profile on the list. We read through the short profile and opened up the longer version -- we both (almost simultaneously) agreed that he was the one. The sky opened up and we could hear the hallelujah chorus! We had found the perfect man! He was everything we both wanted in a donor and maybe even a little bit more. He was athletic and sensitive, gave good answers on his essay and had a good speaking voice. The clinic staff impressions of him were also really good! We had found a winner!!!! Lucky number 184!! (Or as the clinic calls him 1923.)

Tuesday I called to make the arrangements with the bank. I placed the order, gave them my credit card and uploaded a baby picture of our donor. He was a really adorable toddler and amazingly enough he resembles Lisa quite a bit. When we looked at the picture together, we both felt it was the perfect decision. The perfect decision on the donor, and the perfect decision to try to have a family.

I've read the profile a dozen times. I've printed the picture and have looked at it over and over. After months of discussion, searching, testing and at times even procrastinating - regardless of the outcome, our lives are about to change.

The Search Is On!!!

2008-08-28T07:01:00.000-04:00

When you decide to have a baby our way, things can be a little bit tricky. I have always thought that the choice to have children and who to have them with was an extremely important one. In my current predicament, I am considering our donor to be a very significant part of the equation. I always assumed that the rest of the world, if in the same situation would feel this way too... until we started telling people about our plans for pregnancy. That's when it started. Friends, acquaintances and even a stranger or two began volunteering to donate to our cause. Some offered in jest, but others were really willing to give it up all in the name of goodwill or in some cases friendship.

At first I thought it was kind of funny. A very close friend (gay) mentioned almost in passing that he would be glad to assist if necessary. Surprised and somewhat uncomfortable, I mumbled something about the fact that we hadn't really decided what direction we were going to go with that. The next day I received a follow up email to our conversation. It read something like this, "Hi, I wanted to check in with you about our conversation at the party yesterday. Just let me know when you are ready and we'll make a plan." Hmmmm.... Just let me know when you are ready...and we'll make a plan. We're not planning to go shopping!!! We're planning to procreate?!!? I could almost envision the conversation in my head. "Hey ________, it's Angel. I appear to be ovulating. Can you come over here for a few... and don't forget your cup! Give my best to the husband and kids!"

I ran into a close friend at a dinner party, (female, straight and married) told me she would "gladly" give us some of her own husbands stuff and reminded me that her children are extremely cute. I laughed and then she repeated the offer and said, "No really, he'll totally do it!" Again, I thought about conversation when it came time. "Hey ______, send your husband's sperm over, it's time to make a baby!" Separately, what if her kids WEREN'T cute??

Then you have the friends who want to volunteer other people's DNA to your cause. Like my friend who doesn't live anywhere near here, has never met Lisa or her brother and very generously offered to use his. "Call Lisa's brother! I am sure he's be glad to do it!" Ummmm.... NO. "Uncle Dad??" I don't think so. Not to mention... you should see the size of this guy's cranium! The plan for a natural childbirth would need to be reconsidered.

Long story short, for personal, ethical and mostly legal reasons, we are using donor sperm. So we've been "shopping" online for weeks looking for a suitable person to help create our child. Our search for a donor has gone on for what seems like months now and I will eliminate otherwise very qualified candidates at the very mention of anything that doesn't come across to me as masculine, fun, or otherwise desirable in a male partner. For instance, the guy whose favorite animal is a cat. Your FAVORITE animal?? Is a cat?? Or how about the guy who when asked what he enjoys doing in his free time he responded, "I like role playing games and LOVE, LOVE, LOVE Comic Book Conventions." The egomaniac whose only line to potential parents to his offspring, "I've done my part, now go do yours!" Or the donor whose list of mental health issues in his immediate family would have made for a good movie. Believe me when I tell you, this list could go on.

I've sorted through DOZENS and DOZENS of viable donors and haven't found "The One" yet... but we're still looking!

hCG, LH Surge, Oocytes … Oh My!

2008-08-16T09:18:00.004-04:00

Ahhh… the world of fertility treatments! Yes, you read right… FERTILITY TREATMENT. The treatment of one's fertility.

Now you ask, "Why would two women, moderately successful in their respective fields, virtually debt free (except one mortgage) who take a minimum of two vacations per year, with a SIXTEEN year old daughter with only TWO years of high school left need to be talking about Fertility Treatment???" Well, the short and very simple answer is, we're clearly crazy.

I have known since Lisa and I were just friends that someday she would want children. She just hadn't found anyone she wanted children with. Early on in our relationship, I suppose she realized what a great catch I was (HA) and we talked about the potential to have children together. Lisa is a great person. She's great with kids and is amazing with the one we already have but having a teenager, admittedly, I wasn't entirely sure this was a path we should take. However, Allyssa was not necessarily an only child by design – but more so out of necessity so had my own situation been different, it's very likely she wouldn't have been an only child. So after MUCH conversation, deliberation and the outright pleading from Allyssa (who until now has been perfectly happy being an only child) we have decided that we are going to add to our family.

That is where all of this fertility stuff comes in. We don't really have a fertility problem. Or at least we don't think we do. However we are lacking a small (but important) piece to the pregnancy puzzle and in the state of Georgia you can't just do that sort of thing on your own. So we decided to take some referrals for a reputable clinic and went to a consult to find out everything we needed to do. We made our appointment… and canceled our appointment…. And made another appointment… and almost cancelled that appointment but didn't.

The looming appointment had me on a street corner looking for Xanax. The day finally came and we actually went. We went in, surrounded by seemingly straight couples (you never really know do you??) and waited what seemed like forever. When we were finally called back I was somewhat surprised to see our doctor looked as though she had stepped right out of a Vogue Magazine – although she did have on a white coat. Our "dedicated" nurse (you get one nurse who is assigned to you so you always see the same nurse – which for the money, she should move in next door) looked much like someones grandmother and acted like one too. I half expected her to pull out some homemade cookies, but sadly she didn't. The doctor explained everything in a way that appeared on paper and in the drawing to be very simple, but really isn't. She was very nice, forthright and accommodating. I wanted to make sure that our being a gay couple wouldn't be a problem, so near the end of the consult I said, "We are a couple, (I think she may have laughed a little at the obviousness of my statement) and we want to make sure our doctor and the staff are comfortable with the situation." She assured us that this was nothing they hadn't seen before and that it was no different than any other couple trying to conceive. She gave us a list everything we needed to do between that visit and when we actually want to start trying to get pregnant. (Remember, I got pregnant the first time at seventeen ON birth control pills, trying NOT to get pregnant. Who knew there was SO much to do when you are trying TO get pregnant?!) They took what seemed like gallons of my blood and ran some other ridiculously uncomfortable tests – and it seems everything is still working the way it's supposed to.

So… now the quest has begun. We have all of the details… now we just need to find some suitable "samples" and we'll begin. Keep your fingers crossed.

If I'd Known Then

2008-06-14T06:48:00.003-04:00

I bought a book this week called "If I'd Known Then: Women in their 20's and 30's Write Letters to Their Younger Selves." The author asked the women (All noteworthy on some level) to write letters to the girls they once were, letters filled with the advice and wisdom they wished they'd possessed when they were younger. Several of the letters were based on specific situations or timeframes that were mentioned in a short story that precedes each letter.

The book was relatively small but big on emotion as I flipped through the pages and cried on more than one occasion when I recognized something I would have put in my own letter to my younger self.

The more I read, the more I thought that every woman SHOULD write a letter to her younger self. Maybe no one ever reads it. Maybe it serves as an open letter to your own daughter or another young girl who might never admit that something in the letter made a difference to her. Maybe its only purpose is a sort of therapy to recognize what you didn't know then and how you might change things knowing what you know now. Maybe, like my letter – it's a way of your grown up self to just let go and know that the person you were then made you the person you are today.

So here is my letter… and if you feel so inclined… write your own. It might make a difference to someone someday.

Dear Angel,
You're getting ready to celebrate your 16th birthday! I know sometimes you're surprised you made it! I know it seemed like you would never arrive here – but you did! Believe me when I tell you that as you get older, time goes by much more quickly, so slow down… You have all the time in the world to grow up!

Don't worry about all the drama that surrounds high school girls. The circle of friends that you have now is large… but the circle that truly matters will be small. The friends that are important will remain part of your life for a very long time. So don't get caught up in all that seems so serious right now. I promise, it's really not.

I won't lie to you, the next few years are not going to be at all what you are expecting. I know you have some ideas of how things are going to be but life is happening. Choices are about to be made and sometimes things just don't happen the way we think they should. It will be very difficult and at times will even be scary but you will know in the depth of your spirit that this is not permanent. So hold on tight… it will be a very bumpy ride but trust that one day it will all be just fine and the things you are about to go through will seem like a bad Lifetime Movie.

Hold on to who you are and don't ever sacrifice that for anyone. Not friends, not family, not a husband or a lover. Stand up for yourself and don't make decisions based on fear. Wake up every day and know that no matter what you are facing you are taking it head on and as long as you do that, you will make it. Challenge yourself to be better and to want better because you KNOW better. Even when you think it can't get any worse, try to smile to yourself once in awhile. I can assure you, it's all going to be just fine!

Wishing I could walk you through it,
Angel

PS..
Two more things, I am sorry to tell you that while Troy really is a good guy, he isn't the love of your life. The great news is… by standards outside the halls of Hemet High School, you're not fat at all.

Have your cake and eat it too

2008-05-31T08:46:00.002-04:00

I love Carrot Cake. I’ve always been a fan, but as an adult I would almost always forego chocolate cake for Carrot Cake. That was until I met my mother-in-law. I don’t remember for sure how long ago it was when I had my first taste of her Carrot Cake, but I remember knowing I could never look at just an ordinary Carrot Cake again. Lisa told me her mom was a great cook (which was a gross understatement) and Lisa knew I loved carrot cake and had her mom make me one. Lisa brought it over and it looked amazing. Three layers high, covered in thick cream cheese frosting, all completely from scratch, of course. I was almost afraid to eat it out of worry that it wouldn’t taste as good as it looked.

Some of you know what my previous relationship was like and some of the stories behind it. For those that don’t, I will just keep it short for the sake of space and tell you that my ex-girlfriend’s mother was CRAZY with a capital “C!” Not only was she crazy, she was a mean, manipulative, narcissistic, pathological liar. (And that is my way of erring on the side of nice.) She rarely cared about how her actions, words and behavior affected her own husband and children and she definitely didn’t care how it affected me. When I went into that relationship I had all sorts of ideas of how things would be. Her parents (Who lived minutes away) would love me, they would love my small child and we would all live happily ever after. I was very quickly brought to the reality of the situation when I found her mother excluding me at every opportunity, blatantly ignoring me and on more than one occasion spreading outright lies about me.

When that relationship ended, per the request of my therapist I made a list of all the things I wanted in my next relationship. I decided that one (of the MANY) items on my “List Of Things I Will Not Live Without In My Next Relationship” was a loving and supportive immediate family. I have parents, I have grandparents and I have siblings. I didn’t want a lifeline; I just wanted my next relationship to have a family that was supportive of their daughter’s sexuality, and would at least try to get to know me… some people even grow to like me! I shared my list with some of my closest friends and some responses were, “You need to scale that down unless you plan on being with several people.” “You’ll never find one person who fits ALL of that criteria.” “You’ll have to sacrifice something, you can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

Since Lisa and I were friends before we became romantically involved, even though I hadn’t met her parents, I knew she came from a good family. I knew her parents knew she was gay, I knew that they were supportive and accepting of her and I knew that she always spoke very highly of her parents and brother. I very clearly remember the first time I met Lisa’s mom. I had been visiting Lisa and we went to lunch. Afterwards, she said she wanted to take me somewhere and I agreed. We drove for about 25 minutes and not being from that area I had no idea where we were going. As we drove into a small, quiet subdivision I knew she was taking me to her parents house. My heart began to race, I thought I might throw up and I think I even asked her not to take me there. We pulled into the driveway and I could feel the anxiety swallowing me. Lisa laughed as if it were no big deal and after a minute or so, we went inside. Her father wasn’t home, but her mom was. As we were introduced she was smiling and full of humor. (She’s somewhat sarcastic and very witty.) We stayed for a little while and when we left her mom hugged me and told me how nice it was to meet me. I left thinking she seemed nice… but so did Medusa. (The name I not-so-lovingly gave my ex girlfriends mother.) Knowing how family impacted my last relationship, in the beginning I was always concerned (on the verge of paranoid) about Lisa’s parents and whether they liked me or not.

Here I am what feels like many years later. I just finished the last piece of Carrot Cake that Lisa’s mom made ME for LISA’S birthday and I am very happy to say that the Carrot Cake was every bit as good as it looked and Lisa’s family…. They too have been just what they appeared to be. Warm, funny, welcoming and loving.

I’m so glad I added the loving and supportive family to my list as my last relationship was ending, I am so glad I didn’t settle for anything less.

Not Like Me

2008-05-19T16:03:00.006-04:00

Not Like Me

The following story is absolutely true and can be verified by several people. The names have been slightly changed to protect the not so innocent.

The 8th grade was a year of many changes for me. My family relocated to Southern California from Missouri and my mother married my stepfather. I was not happy about either of these changes. Not because our home in California wasn't a good place or because my stepfather was not a good person, mainly because I was a self-centered spoiled brat. SO… I decided to make every attempt to make my family miserable by being just that. When my mother re-married, my siblings and I stayed with my aunt and uncle while my parents were on their honeymoon. I was one month away from being fourteen.

One day into our hiatus from home, I decided that I could very easily "borrow" my mom's car while they were on their honeymoon and my friends and I could cruise around Hemet in the middle of the night enjoying the freedom of having a drivers license and a car without actually having either of those two things. I had also determined that on the very small chance that I would get caught, it would be by either my very cool aunt or my very cool uncle – neither of which (in my mind) would have ever turned my into the warden. (A term I lovingly gave to my mother.) On the second night of my parent's seven-day honeymoon, I waited until the whole house was quiet, I grabbed the key that was haphazardly lying inside a dish on the bar and slid out the front door of my aunt and uncles house. I approached the baby blue 1980 Chrysler Cordoba as if it were some sort of untouchable treasure chest. I slowly unlocked the door, opened it carefully, slipped it into gear and pushed it two houses down before I got in and started the engine. I was thirteen years old and had no valid experience behind the wheel of a car.

I felt like I had just won the lottery as I made my way toward Grand Teton to pick up one of my best friends, we'll call her "Not Danette." In hindsight, I am pretty confident that I cared about being "Not Danette's" friend way more than she cared about being mine. She was my idol. She was everything I wanted to be back then but didn't have the guts to actually pull it off. She was rebellious but not in the sneaking out and stealing your mom's car kind of way, in the up front and in your face kind of way. "Not Danette" was very cool. She even had a mohawk that I myself would have loved to have had if I'd had the nerve, which I didn't. Everyone seemed to like her and wanted to be in her circle. Even though she was a FRESHMAN, she allowed me in. She brought me into her fold and allowed me to be part of her world even though I was sure I was unworthy. I wanted "Not Danette" to think I was cool too. I wanted her to understand why she let me in. I never wanted her to wonder why I was there or to forget why she found me and started including me in the first place. Thus, "Not Danette" was ALWAYS first. First to be seen at school, first choice to sit with at lunch, first to call on the phone, first to be considered for anything special and first to be picked up when I "borrowed" my Mom's car. After "Not Danette" came the others. "Not Cerena," "Not Melissa," "Not Tina," "Not Regina," "Not Michelle" and more. Anyone who wanted to come could, and we would cruise down Florida Avenue making stops at Games Plus and the local bowling alley.

That night it began and many more nights for the next month or so we repeated the process. My aunt and uncle didn't catch me so when my parents returned from their honeymoon, I kept "borrowing" the car. The only differences were, I had my own key made so I wouldn't have to "borrow" my mom's key, I snuck out of my bedroom window instead of the front door and didn't have to push the car because our driveway was on a hill so it would coast down to the street where I would crank the engine and take off for a few hours of freedom.

Just before summer, I did get caught. Not from an accident, thank God, just by failure to properly parallel park.

I sat in the passenger seat of my own car Friday afternoon at 4:30 pm and wondered how on earth I found the courage to put myself behind the wheel of a car at just thirteen years old. I had no fear back then. I probably would have "borrowed" a plane had one been available. Sadly and sometimes tragically, fear is a foreign concept to many teenagers. As adults we realize the potential implications of being a first time driver. I was reminded of this when realized that I was scared out of my mind as my daughter buckled the driver's side seat belt and began to put the car in gear. Allyssa finally decided she wanted to get her learner's permit. She passed the test and is now legally allowed (and encouraged by the DMV) to drive a motor vehicle. At top speeds of about 35 MPH, five stop signs, three traffic lights, ten miles and twenty minutes later we arrived safely into our driveway. As I took deep breaths to keep from throwing up, I looked at Allyssa, white knuckles to the steering wheel and wondered how we got here this quickly. Not here in the driveway, but HERE. Her sitting next to me, DRIVING! While I was thanking God for allowing us to make back to the house safely, I also said a little Thank You for Allyssa not being at all like I was at her age.

One month and counting!

2008-05-10T07:00:00.002-04:00

One month and two days... We made it ONE MONTH and TWO DAYS! On some level even I am surprised that Lisa hasn't made an escape, passport in hand, never to be seen or heard from again. Not because married life is bad - it's the opposite actually - but because there is still a small (or not so small) part of me that thinks I am not good at relationships and that at any minute she will have figured that out.

I've had this conversation with some of my friends over the past year or so. Me, creeping out onto the crazy ledge worrying about everything from losing my identity to adapting to new toothpaste. Living together, sharing finances, having three too many dogs, having a enough hormones in the house to keep a therapist on retainer and obsessing about the FACT (not opinion) that I was someone's wife before and I wasn't very good at it. And my friends, talking me down and reminding me that first and foremost I am just a tiny bit controlling and it would be good for me to give some of that up in the form of cohabitation and joint accounts, that there are worse things then having to share space with FOUR dogs, (although sometimes I wonder) and that I was very young when I got married the first time (for all the wrong reasons) and that my husband at the time (probably along with the fact that I was a lesbian in a straight girls body) had allot to do with why our marriage didn't work. My best friend finally said to me, "Get over it. Anyone who's ever been in even one relationship that didn't work is still a failure at relationships. We are all failures until we find the right person to be with." So... I got over it. Kind of.

So here we are. Everything is still in tact. She hasn't tried to escape in the middle of the night (although I did hide her passport just in case) and while I do think our relationship is different now that we are fully committed to each other and sharing every aspect of our lives, it's all very, very good!

I am doing the best I can. I am playing nice with my space, I even let her use MY closet, when there is a PERFECTLY good closet just across the hall. I had allot less trouble with the joining of the accounts than I thought I would and even don't mind the dogs and will mind them even less when they learn to vacuum. She and Allyssa get along fabulously and even though there are about 17 days out of the month when one or more of us is a bundle of emotions, there has been no blood shed. I get up and make her breakfast and lunch every day and see her off to work, (even though she wakes up over an hour before I do) and I have even done her laundry a time or two. So I feel like I am doing okay at this marriage thing.

I know it takes allot more than sharing, making lunch and doing laundry but we did celebrate our one month anniversary with some great food on the grill and some good wine, so we must be doing something right.

One month down and only 720 more (give or take a few) to go!

The Wedding Of A Lifetime

2008-04-20T06:10:00.005-04:00

We've had so many friends ask about the wedding. Was it wonderful? Was it raining? Did you go on a Rosie Cruise? Did you have any strange looks / reactions on the "straight" cruise? Do you wish you had done it at church? And the most requested item of the day is to see our vows. So here goes, for anyone who's interested.

We left for Florida on Saturday, April 5th and headed toward Cocoa Beach where Lisa's "second parents" reside. We spent a couple of days with them – ALWAYS MUCH FUN – before we hit Miami on Monday to board our Carnival (not Rosie) Cruise. (Which was wonderful by the way!) The weather in Florida (as you may know) is unpredictable at best. It can be raining one minute and the sun can be brightly shining the next. Well, the first two days we were in Cocoa Beach, there was little to no sun shining which prompted Lisa, Allyssa and two of the unnamed parties attending to doubt my theory that at MY wedding, (outdoors, on the beach) there could be NO RAIN and I begged them to stop use of the word immediately as not to throw the negative energy out into the universe.

We got on the ship on Monday and met with most of our party, my best friend Kelly, her husband Stan, my brother Jeremy and his fiancée, Elizabeth. I was surprised the Friday before we left by one of my dearest friends Race and his partner DJ by letting me know that they too would be at the wedding in Key West, so we looked forward to seeing them there. Monday night we hung out, had some drinks and enjoyed each other's company. Tuesday morning we docked in Key West. We all got ready in our cabins and had agreed to meet at 8:00 AM. I instructed my brother the night before NOT to be drinking and told my best friend that while I have learned to tolerate her CONSTANT tardiness over the last 15 years – today would be an exception and I would be seriously pissed if she were late. My hair and makeup looked great! Allyssa and Lisa looked great! We walked out of the ship for our big day… and it was raining.

I bit my lip to keep from crying, knowing that my naturally curly hair would be a mess in about 30 seconds and waited for the trolley to take us into town. We called the amazing woman who was performing the ceremony for a plan B and she instructed us to go to a different beach where there was a small pavilion in case it didn't stop raining. I teared up at the mention of rain and told anyone within earshot to stop saying the "R" Word! There would be NO rain at my wedding!! I had imagined my day much like the scene in Snow White, where she enters the forest and there are birds singing, sun shining, and butterflies greeting her with a visible happiness in the air. I was NOT HAVING RAIN, DAMMIT!!

We got off the trolley and waited for the rest of our party to arrive and just like I told it to, the rain stopped and the sun came out.

Everyone arrived sober and on time and we went to the beach. The ceremony was beautiful and couldn't have been more perfect. (Even though my hair and make up was a wreck – pictures to be posted soon) We wouldn't have done it any other way. Surrounded by some of the most important people in my life and knowing that the ones that couldn't be there were thinking of us, Lisa and I said our vows and promised to love one another until the end of time. Here they are… A reminder of why I love her, and why I can't wait to spend the rest of my life doing just that!

(Note… Lisa and I had not shared our vows with each other prior to the ceremony. I was supposed to read my vows first – BUT alas… I was crying before I could get a word out so I managed to peep out, "You go" and she read hers first.)

Lisa:
Angel, first and foremost I want to remind you of how incredibly lucky I feel to be standing here before you, vowing to spend the rest of my life with you. You are a remarkable woman, who has put me on a plateau of happiness that I never dreamed of. You move me, and have brought me to such a better place in my life – my dreams are now reality and I owe it all to you. In your eyes I see a beautiful and exciting future filled with love, laughter and complete happiness. In you I see the half of my soul that makes me complete. I choose you, Angel, as my partner, my lover, and my best friend. In front of friends and family I promise to cherish you through every obstacle that may be put in our path.

I promise to love you, even when you insist on listening to 80's soundtracks. I vow to be your faithful partner in good times and bad and even when the Steelers are having a losing season. I will trust and respect you, laugh with you when you throw me off the bed and cry with you during a Publix Commercial. I promise to make you laugh as often as possible by poking fun at myself and promise to sing Tim McGraw's part in "It's Your Love." I vow to care for and protect you, to comfort and encourage you and to support your decisions if you ever decide to make any. Lastly, but most importantly, I swear to spoil you and to treat you like the princess we all know you are.

From this day forward, I give you my hand, my heart and my love, for as long as we both shall live.

Those of you who know Lisa – know that the vows wouldn't have been hers had there not been some humor involved.

Angel:
On November 13th, 2005 I sat across the table from a very good friend and enjoyed a very long lunch. In hindsight, I know I fell in love that day. Just two and a half short years after that six-hour "lunch", I have the honor and privilege of marrying my very best friend, my biggest supporter (and challenge) and my greatest love.

In your soul I have found my mate, in your eyes I have found my happiness and in your heart I have found my home and even though a lifetime will never be long enough, I can't imagine living one day of my life without you by my side.

Thank you for taking me as I am; loving both Allyssa and I, and welcoming us both into your heart. You fill my world with meaning, inspiration, joy, laughter and love. Thank you for being all I could have ever dreamed of and so much more.

Today I promise to be your partner in all things, standing beside you through both challenges and successes. I promise to encourage and nurture your hopes and dreams, always respecting you as an individual. I promise to be faithful to you today and always, understanding that through this perfect love has been born a perfect trust and I promise to love you with everything I have, knowing that you have loved me more than I have ever been loved before.

Lisa, today I choose you to be my partner, and commit to you my whole heart for my whole life.

Following the ceremony, we spent time with our friends at brunch and headed back to the ship. I waited my whole life for her and this relationship, and the day we said our vows was absolutely perfect and well worth the wait!

The rest of the trip was full of birds singing, sun shining and a visible happiness in the air. I think I may have even seen a butterfly or two.

I wonder....

2008-03-07T17:35:00.000-05:00

I was browsing Internet news yesterday and listened to a clip from Good Morning America that included an interview from 2003 with Amy Yasbeck – John Ritter's widow. She tearfully spoke about her husband and how he treated people. "To go back and look at his life… He talked to you like that was the last time he was ever going to talk to you, every time he saw you. He'd give you a little summary of how wonderful you were and how proud he was of you and you felt loved and supported and sent off with a little bounce in your step out into the world. He did that every day."

After I listened, with a very heavy heart I thought of one of my oldest friends (since junior high) and the fact that just two weeks ago she very unexpectedly became a widow at age 34 - with three young children. I thought of another friend who several months ago unexpectedly lost her mother and is continually comforting her young sons as they miss their Grandma. I thought of my own daughter who at only 13 had to experience the unexpected loss one of her own very close friends and is planning to donate an Easter lily at our church in his name as the second anniversary of his death is coming up. Then I thought about myself for a minute and wondered if the people in my life know, truly know, every day how I feel about them.

I wonder if my Mother knows that even though we rarely see eye to eye, I value and appreciate everything she has brought into my life. If my father knows that if given the choice, I still would have chosen him to be my Dad. I wonder if my step-parents know that I wouldn't have rather grown up any other way and I am very happy to be the only person I know that truly feels as though I have two moms and two dads … and neither of my parents are gay. I wonder if my brother knows that I love him with all my heart and through good times and bad, I've got his back and if my future sister-in-law knows that I love her as if she were my biological sister. I wonder if my sister knows that even though there aren't two more different people on the planet, I only wish the very best for her and if my two youngest siblings know that regardless of the differences in our age, I am so very proud of them both. I wonder if my niece and nephews know that not only am I the best Auntie ever… I love those kids like I love my own. I wonder if each of my friends, no matter how near or far know that they hold a very special place in my heart and in some cases have done or said things that have had lasting impact in my life. I wonder if my daughter knows that even on her very worst day, I love her more than I could have ever fathomed loving another human being. That my love for her is absolute and unconditional and that I am more proud of her than I can even express. I wonder if Lisa knows that without a shadow of doubt, that I love her with my whole heart, that she is the best thing about me and that she truly makes me a better person… The list could go on…but I wonder if when my time here is up if the people that are a part of my life will say that with me they felt loved and supported and sent off with a little bounce in their step out into the world…

I wonder if I could do that every day.

Spoiled? Who? ME??

2008-02-16T10:34:00.001-05:00

Over the last few days, my wonderfully witty fiancée has made mention (more than once) that I am spoiled. Each time I think, "Spoiled?? ME?? Surely, she's using her humor to try to charm me, she can't be serious??" Last night while we were in the middle of an impromptu date night at home (that happens allot when you have a 15 year old) with take out and a movie she said it AGAIN! And I started thinking about my past, present and future and started to determine where on earth she would come up with such a notion.

Those of you that have known me since childhood, (and there are a few on this list) I think would concur – I was not a spoiled kid. I did allot of things I shouldn't have been doing but that was because my parents didn't know – not because they let me do whatever I wanted. My Mom was a single parent of three kids until I was 13, so there wasn't an overabundance of money to shower us with and most of the time I wondered if my Mom even knew I was around she was so busy dealing with the other two monsters. (Oops! I mean kids.) *NOTE: Don't misunderstand, I am not complaining. Back then I thought that was awesome! I could do whatever I wanted and as long as I was getting decent grades, my Mom would never even question me. In my early adult years I was a young mother who found herself single after just a few years of a nightmare marriage. Stayed single, struggled financially and at times worked three or four jobs at a time to stay on top of everything. It's only been over the last 5 years or so that things have evened out and all of that work has paid off. Still… I don't know that I would call myself "SPOILED??"

So then I started to think about what was going on when she made mention of my pampered life. Once she was making sure I had everything I needed for bed, I had been sick and she had been over taking care of me for about a week. BUT – I was sick which RARELY happens! The other night, I fell asleep unusually early with my ring on – which I usually take off – and she removed it for me and put it in the spot, I usually keep it. BUT – that has NEVER happened before. She makes dinner if she's over and is home before I am. BUT – she needs to have a broader cooking repertoire. She had no problem rubbing my feet when I mistakenly wore four-inch heels on a day when I knew I wouldn't be home until after 8:00 with back-to-back meetings in multiple locations. BUT – she NEVER has to (nor would she) wear heels and NEVER has to spend literally ALL day in meetings. She even very willingly takes care of my dogs and my daughter on days like that. BUT – those days don't happen very often. She fixes things. She replaced four light fixtures and installed a ceiling fan. BUT – This will also be her house soon. She built me new shelves in my closet. BUT – she will need somewhere to put her clothes. She loves me with all my many flaws. BUT - Who wouldn't??

Okay…. She's right. I'm spoiled rotten and my next blog will be about how I TOTALLY deserve it!

Notice: She's very spoiled as well, but I don't build things.

Exactly What It's Supposed To Be

2008-01-28T09:29:00.001-05:00

Last week I received a package at work. I knew what it was, I had been expecting it. It was my fiancée's wedding band. I looked at the package for what felt like an hour and finally opened it. There were no surprises, it was exactly what I had expected. From the metal, to the finish, to the inscription (a line from the vows I wrote for the ceremony) it was exactly what it was supposed to be. Packaged very nicely in a black velvet box – exactly how it was supposed to be. I looked at the ring, examined it, even tried it on my own hand and wondered if our marriage would be like that ring. Exactly what it's supposed to be. Then I had to wonder… What is it supposed to be??

Some of you know it's been a long time since I was married the first time. That was by design. I've had other offers in the past 13 years, one formal offer (twice, same person) and one informal offer, different person. I declined every time. When I was divorced 13 years ago, I really thought I wasn't cut out for marriage and at a mere twenty years old, I was right! I didn't know the first thing about being someone's wife and when my marriage ended after two years of HELL I was NOT about to try that role again! Life went on and I had two other long term relationships that ended for a number of reasons – but not before the subject of marriage had been broached. With both of those relationships, I knew there was not a chance that I could commit my life to either of those people. Not only would it have never worked – hence the inevitable demise of the relationship, but I was just too damn selfish. I didn't want to share my space, I didn't want to share my stuff, I DEFINITELY didn't want to share what little money I had and I didn't really want to share my daughter. Somehow… even though this relationship (on the romantic level) has only been in existence a fraction of the time of the last two – somehow, thankfully this is different.

Someone asked me the other day how long Lisa and I had been together and I had to think about it. I thought about it later and realized I had to think about it because it seems as though it's just always been. Lisa and I were good friends before we took our relationship to the next level and even since then, it just seems as though we have always been together. Everything just clicks. There is a flow about our relationship that just works. It's impossible to imagine my future without her, but even more strangely I can barely remember a past without her in it.

All of that aside, I still am not exactly sure what a marriage is supposed to look like, feel like and be like. I've never been in a successful one and with divorced parents, I didn't grow up looking at their relationship and wishing for a marriage just like theirs. I don't know very many people that I would consider really happily married, (beyond about 5 years) so there aren't many couples I feel like we could learn from. * PLEASE DO NOT EMAIL ME THAT YOU ARE HAPPILY MARRIED! I SAID I DON'T KNOW MANY – I DIDN'T SAY THAT I DIDN'T KNOW ANY!) That's when I took a deep breath (to ward off the panic that was setting in) and decided maybe THAT it what it's supposed to be. Trial and error… learning from our mistakes and loving each other through each one of them. Remembering that at the end of every day, even if we are angry, we still love each other more than anyone else ever has. Realizing that one of us has never been married and the other one shouldn't have been, so we're both learning something new.

I read a quote once that said, "True love does not come by finding the perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly." That like Lisa's ring… is exactly how it's supposed to be.

Learning How & Who To Love

2008-01-12T06:57:00.001-05:00

I don't remember exactly how old I was when my grandmother first told me that you should never make someone a priority when they only consider you an option. I do remember that I furrowed my eyebrows and half smiled pretending like I understood only to be thinking in the back of my mind that she was crazy. As something called "Life" happened, I began to understand what she meant. Unfortunately, I didn't choose to actually act on the advice, but I did start to understand it. Just about three years ago, I decided that I would actually start acting on that principle and while in some instances it's been heartbreaking, I know now that the most important people in my life don't consider me an option.

It's a shame that it took me all of thirty years to figure out how and who to love, but it did. While I am one to believe you are always where you are supposed to be, that everything happens for a reason and I genuinely value even the most horrible of times over my adult life knowing that it only brought me closer to the person I was to become – I can't help but wish or at least wonder how things may have been different if someone had told me just the most basic truths about relationships. So this, my friends, is a small (very small) list of things I think are important in relationships. Relationships of all kinds… romantic, platonic, etc. Nothing profound - just my opinion. Just an open letter of sorts to my incredibly amazing daughter and anyone else who might need it. Hoping that someday she will be writing a blog about what she learned from me about relationships…. And I hope every word of it is positive.

Of course it begins… "Never make someone a priority if they only consider you an option."

Fall in love with your best friend and if you are falling in love with someone who is not yet your best friend, make sure you can envision them in that role. Be honest with yourself and be honest with the people you love. Tell the people you care about exactly what you expect – your relationships will be better for it. Be confident in your worth and expect the people you love to know your worth as well. Don't get involved with people you need to change – it won't happen and it shouldn't happen. You have to evolve on your own, and so do the people in your life. Know the difference between friends and acquaintances, both are important, but there is a difference. Treat your friends, family, partners, spouses and even strangers the way you want to be treated. You never know how or when you can change someone's day, week or even life in a positive or negative way. Spend your life with someone who will do little things that make a difference, even if that difference only means something to you. Be certain that the people in your life love you for who you are and for no other reason. Know that the only unconditional love is between parents and their children, understand your limitations as well as those of the people who love you. Love and be loved with all your soul can give and take.

And one more – because this blog has gone on way too long… Spend your life with someone who makes you laugh, even when you're dreaming.

Myth vs. Reality

2008-01-05T07:30:00.000-05:00

So I officially "came out" via the world wide web. This still makes me chuckle a little bit because I suppose I didn't realize how many people that I don't see in "real life" didn't know I was gay! That being said, after the shock wore off most of my friends were very happy for me and very supportive. I did find out that LOTS of people don't really KNOW any lesbians – or not well enough to ask them very personal questions --- oh wait, if they didn't know I was gay, they probably don't know me well enough either…. Just kidding. So I decided I would occasionally write on the topic to close the gap between myth and reality.

My first theme… Girls Dating Girls.

So now we ALL know, I am a Lesbian. I live in the South, do not live in a "gay" neighborhood AND… I do not even remotely resemble your stereotypical lesbian. (Please don't pretend not to know the type, just because you judge by appearances doesn't necessarily mean you are homophobic.) I have had the question asked - MORE THAN ONCE – "So, which one of you is like, uh, the uh, guy?" I am here to tell you, we are both very much girls – and we both happen to like it that way. Now, anyone of you that has met my lovely Lisa can attest, that while we are both definitely women, she on most days is less feminine than I am. Not all couples have these "roles" but I would like to share with you the advantages to being of the more feminine variety and finding that your attractions lie with the opposite.

So here are my Top Ten Reasons I completely understand (and highly recommend) loving a woman of the less feminine variety.

10.) If you play your cards right and choose carefully, you can double your wardrobe. (At least where cargo shorts and t-shirts are concerned.)

9.) You will never have to cry over IKEA's horrific directions again!

8.) Mowing your own grass, a thing of the past.

7.) More counter space for your own hair care products.

6.) Being allowed to choose any and as many home décor items as you like and not having to argue over decorators' colors.

5.) Never again will you blow a fuse due to too many hair care appliances being plugged in at once.

4.) You will never look all over for your eyelash curler only to find it's in her purse.

3.) Never having to go to the bar for my own drinks.

2.) You will never receive a gift that was given in hopes that you will share. Example: bags, hats, shoes, perfume, etc.

And the number one reason I love a woman less feminine than myself….

1.) I get all kinds of ME time during football season!

Learning From Mom

2007-12-20T22:32:00.001-05:00

We learn to be parents from our parents…Right? My Mom didn't have very good teachers and THAT is putting it mildly. My Mom however, was a decent parent. Always doing the best she could with what she had and I would like to think I've built on that and become a fairly decent parent myself. Although I suppose my daughter will have to attest.

Monday evening at about 7:00 PM, I had a conversation with my Mother via the telephone that I have been waiting to have for the better part of ten years. My mom has known I am "you know" (she can't say the G word) for several years now. However, we have not had an open conversation about it. She has avoided my attempts at all costs even at times going as far as leaving the room to avoid a conversation about my personal life. As time went on, she was so afraid she would somehow hear something about my personal life that she would even avoid conversations about my job, house, weekend plans or anything that might bring us to mention the name of someone I may have been dating. So we basically talked about Allyssa and allot of nothing.

At first I was fine with that. In the beginning it was new to me too, so I didn't know what to say to her. I had only come out to a few people and all were very accepting. I didn't know how I would deal with my mother who has said out loud that she wished that Jerry Falwell's church was closer so she could attend because he was such a powerful and insightful man. So while she was obviously in a place where she didn't / couldn't talk about it – I was fine to instate my own "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy. Nearly ten years later, much like the American military, we were still operating on that policy. Until about 2 weeks ago….

Long story short, I decided to write my Mom a letter. It was a long letter that detailed my feelings and emotions surrounding the last ten years and the lack of interest my Mom had shown in my life. I apologized for not more openly inviting her into my life and basically gave her an invitation to get with the program so to speak. My Mom came to bat like a champ! Those of you who REALLY know my Mom know that this was NO SMALL feat. That it took everything she had and then some to pull herself together and do the right thing where this was concerned. BUT she did it… and our relationship will be better for it.

I learned something about my mother that day, she is much more logical than I ever gave her credit for and while her beliefs won't change per se, she is willing to change a little and that is a good thing. I learned something about parenting that day too, something I knew but have never been tested on. It really doesn't matter what you believe or how strong those beliefs and convictions are, if you are one of those parents, a parent always doing the best you can with what you have - the love you have for your children will always be stronger.

My Life As Most Of You Know It

2007-10-30T21:30:00.001-04:00

I found myself conversing via email the other day with an old friend. We've known each other since junior high and thanks to the wonders of the internet, our paths crossed again several years ago. We chat via email a few times a month and while I haven't seen this person in years, I would still classify her as a friend.

I had some exciting news to share with her on Monday and as I told the story I realized that somewhere back when we reconnected via the world wide web I had failed to completely explain what path my life had taken since I had left California. We had talked many times about our kids, homes and jobs, but there were parts of my life that I think are so ordinary, I just never thought to mention them. I have reconnected with several friends from my past. I never think to tell my people what kind of car I drive, or what kind of house I own. I don't think to mention that I am still a blonde or that I wear Nike tennis shoes. In the same respect, I rarely think to mention that I am also gay.

There was a time when I was afraid and didn't divulge information about my personal life out of fear. However, now that is not the case. It's not because I am embarrassed or ashamed, it's simply that I just don't think to mention it. It's such a small part of who I am, such an inconsequential part of my being, that it never occurs to me to warn people.

I am "out" in all aspects of my life. At home, at work and in my community, so sometimes it slips my mind that in my world you DO have to tell people otherwise they will assume you are straight. (Especially, if the last time they saw you, you were married and had a baby.)

So… for those of you who never asked if I was involved, for those of you that assumed I was straight, and for those of you who really never cared one way or the other, I am gay.

I am in a long term relationship with an amazing woman named Lisa. Who happened to ask me to marry her on Sunday. So… we are very happy and know that our friends will be very happy for us.

If you have any questions, comments or even concerns I would be more than happy to hear them!

Happy Halloween!

To Self Check or Not To Self Check

2007-09-07T01:24:00.000-04:00

Okay... so it's 8:45 PM on a weekend night and I, accompanied by another logical adult am on my way to a "superstore" that will remain unnamed. (ONLY because I don't want to send one ounce of energy their way.) I will call said Superstore - Satan's Lair. We enter the den of the devil and make a quick run exactly to the aisle we need and rush to get out of there before any of the reasons I despise shopping there rub off on me.... We head to the check out and see that true to form, there are 124 people in line at approximately 3 registers. (Yes, that is a slight exaggeration - but not much.) So I look to my right and see that the lights are on at the Self Check. **Note that I am ALREADY ADAMANTLY OPPOSED to self check - am I getting a discount? NO. Then why the hell am I checking out my own stuff?? ** So I get to the self check (further into the depths of hell) where I am greeted by a "woman" (I think) who has 3 teeth, bad grammar and is in the management program. She informs me that the SELF check lanes are closed. Apparently they close at 9:00. HOWEVER, I remind her that it is NOT 9:00 - it's only 8:50. "Sorry " she says, "we have to close 'em down and theys (YES - THEYS) closed." Okay...so let me get this straight - I am checking MYSELF out... I do not need assistance (THANK GOD!) from anyone working (or pretending to work) but you still have to close the self check registers? AND you have to close them EARLY? She mumbled something under her breath and I vowed again to avoid Satan's Lair at all costs. The store is dirty, on any given day I feel like I am on the set of Deliverence when I go in there and the customer service is NONEXISTENT!!

My best friend told me that said Superstore was the home of the devil years ago.... She's always right... I should have listened!

No Braids, No Uniform, No Disney Lunchbox

2007-08-06T10:30:00.000-04:00

Today was the first day of school. Back to school means allot of different things to different people. It means school supplies and backpacks, school buses and traffic. It means new clothes, new shoes and sometimes new haircuts. For me it means my baby is getting older.

The first day of school has ALWAYS been just another reason for me to have a good cry. For those of you who know me… I mean REALLY know me; you know that in reality, that doesn't take much. I'm not unstable, depressed or crazy – well, maybe a little crazy- but I am just one of those people who can cry over a good movie, or even a Publix commercial. (DON'T LAUGH unless you've seen it and haven't gotten the least bit teary-eyed!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHkqGgPpQOE
But the first day of school is a little different. It always opens the floodgates for all kinds of emotions and usually accounts for me crying all the way to work, randomly fighting tears throughout the day and crying some more in retrospect when the day is finally over.

In August of 1997 I pulled out of the parking lot of Harvest Christian Academy, after leaving my little girl in the hands of strangers. I never imagined that any other first day of school would be as hard as that one! She was headed off to Kindergarten. As independent as she was – even at only four years old and just under 35 pounds, she didn't even want me to walk her in. She only relented to my begging after realizing that there was no one else to carry in her cubby crate.

Fast forward ten (what should have been) long years…. And believe me when I tell you that almost every year – the first day of school is almost (not quite) but almost as hard as the day I left her at Kindergarten. The first day of middle school ran a very close second until last year, the first day of high school. But every year is hard.

Today I woke her up and true to her nature (most of the time) she looked at me with one eye open, a slight smile and said "Hi Momma." I could have sworn I saw my gapped tooth child through the face of the teenaged girl who I still think of as my baby.

Pulling up to the high school I was reminded of last year, her first day as a freshman. The kids all looked so much bigger and older then. The boys looked like men and the girls were looking for the boys. The parking lot full of kids that drove themselves to school and only a handful of parents dropping their children off. This year didn't look much different, but my daughter looked a little more the part than she did last year.

She and her best friend jumped out of the car the second I came to a stop. With no cubby crate she didn't need my help getting into the school. She kissed my cheek. "Bye Momma!" she said with a true twinkle in her eye and a grin on her face. As she walked away from the car I saw her, my tiny little girl in braids, a school uniform and a 101 Dalmatians lunchbox. Smiling, happy and talking. Not a care in the world, just headed for a new adventure. I blinked and looked again to see my nearly grown daughter. Now taller than me, hair that had taken 30 minutes to straighten, jeans, a t-shirt, a little bit of eye liner and no Disney lunch box.

Maybe it's that she is an only child. Maybe it's that I am a tiny bit protective. Maybe it's that the years have literally felt like minutes and there are some that I really just wish I could have back – even if it were for only a moment.

Women In The Workplace

2007-07-01T09:05:00.000-04:00

If you are a woman and have ever worked outside of your home in any type of setting, chances are you've heard at least one horror story about how women tend to treat each other in the workplace. From gossiping to outright physical confrontations, I've heard some of the best of them. It seems that sometimes when women get into work space with other women, they revert to high school like behavior. I don't know if it's a self preservation mechanism or if it's just that those women truly failed to mentally mature beyond the age of 17, but this kind of thing happens – apparently allot.

Four years ago I left my job of nearly 5 years where I was the only woman to go into a position where (at the time) between my two teams there were several women and only one man. (Bless his heart!) Spending my first five years of corporate life with men, I hadn't really even heard the rumors about catty women in the workplace. However, when I came to my new job and told my friends what my new situation was like, (several women and one man, all working very closely together) they ALL gave me the same warnings. Watch out for the women. Don't let anything get personal, take all your ideas straight to your boss sharing with no one along the way, don't make any female friends at work because they'll stab you in the back the second you turn around. The general consensus was that if I absolutely HAD to trust anyone at my new place of employment, it should only be the lone male on the team. I teased my friends about their lack of faith in womankind and continued on my path with my female led and supported teams and never gave it any other thought.

As the years passed, I saw what my friends meant in other divisions at my company. I saw other women lie, cheat and claw to get what they wanted and needed – even if it was only attention. Somehow, someway, when I would cross back over that imaginary line from wherever I was coming from back into my own department, I knew that the women I worked with were different. I knew that those women would have my back. It was never discussed how other women in business behaved, we were never told by our female bosses that we were to treat each other a certain way, we just did. Over the years we saw some women come and go but our core group remained in tact. We all had very different personality types. Among those, we had a cheerleader, a diva, a peacemaker, a realist, an organizer, a charmer, a comedienne, a mom, a planner, and a few that sometimes shared many traits. On most days we had no problem disagreeing and sometimes even though there was tension, at the end of the day, we were still a team. We've laughed together and cried together – with that many women you can only imagine how often we've cried together. We have been through marital and financial strain, babies, engagements, marriages, separations, illnesses and job losses. Somehow the stars had aligned and the paths of all these very different women had crossed and it worked. Most of the time it even worked well.

In four years through industry ups and downs our teams have gone from 20+ to eight. Sometime we are more like siblings, some are closer than others and of course we all have our favorites – myself included. But it seems we are a closer now than ever, as we've seen the rest of our team, taken apart by the mighty bottom line.

Thursday night, winding down an extremely hectic day (preparing for ANOTHER buyout) I went into my boss's office and knew she had been crying. I asked if there was anything she needed and she began to cry. She was told earlier in the day by her boss that I had been added to the list of countless people in our company who had already lost their jobs – there would be fifty more and I was one of them. She wasn't asked, she was told.

Friday morning at 6:45 AM tears rolling down my face, I looked around at the place I call home for some 40+ hours a week - my office. The office I had grown to love. The pictures, the funny notes and sayings that lined my collage of a corkboard and the other random things that would jog my memory of some really, truly good times I have had at work. And I cried. I cried out of fear, I have never lost my job. I cried because I am a single income household with a 14 year old daughter. I cried out of anger, I knew we were facing layoffs and sought out other employment and was offered a decent package from a global company but after the EVP of our company looked me and the rest of my team in the eyes and said he could personally guarantee each of our jobs through the end of the year, I decided to hang on until late fall for the sake of my bosses and our dwindling teams. Turns out he couldn't truly guarantee anything. I cried because as of Monday, July 9th I won't have a commute, or an office, or a job.

I cried because for four really great years, my life has been touched every single day by a group of truly amazing women.

So now there are seven…

Jesus, please protect me from SOME of your followers!

2007-03-21T01:00:00.000-04:00

Wow... Where to even begin this blog...

I began my day with a voicemail from an irate client - who (for the record) does not know me. We have never met, and we have never spoken on the phone. The voicemail droned on for about 30 seconds and ended with, "someone better call me - right F*@#ING NOW!" I laugh, go meet with my boss who lets me know he's already gotten to her and that this is his standard means of communication. (NICE!) Standard means of communicating... In a business setting!!

A few hours later I get a voicemail on my personal cell phone from a self employed aquaintence that I was trying to contact to send some business her way. As she's leaving me a voicemail she is yelling at someone else and using some rather colorful language that also included a quick F word or two. She asks me to return her call at her office. So I proceed to call her back at her office. (HER OFFICE = HER COMPANY..the company she actually owns) Of course, I get the automated phone message. After all the basic B.S. who we are, what we do, I hear, "Although we are family owned and operated, our true boss is a Jewish carpenter. May the Lord bless and keep you."

WHOA! Back the boat up! WHAT? Does Jesus know you are referring to him as your boss?? Does this imply that Jesus wants you dropping the "F Bomb" on random voicemails? I mean...He is your boss and all....

This lead me right up onto my soap box... What is with the people that claim to be followers of Christ that do these things that are seemingly so un Christ like?? I am perfectly fine with religions of all kinds and all walks of faith and spirituality, but if you are going to stick a whole school of little fish on the back of your car, don't you think you should refrain from using your middle finger to rudely gesture to other drivers? If you are going to have a bumper sticker that says, "Know Jesus, Know Peace" that maybe, just MAYBE you should not drive down the road screaming at your kids in the back seat, swatting at them with your free hand? Or my very favorite - which I actually witnessed first hand. The woman in the grocery store, with a shirt on that had a picture of a newborn in what was assumed to be the hand of God / Jesus and the shirt read, "Jesus Loves The Unborn." I am literally reading her shirt as she is grabbing her child (pre-teenage girl) by the arm and says in the talking through your teeth Mom voice... "I swear to God, I'm gonna kill you if you roll your eyes at me one more time." I wanted to stop and ask her if her Jesus loved teenage girls too? Or is just the unborn?

My point is... if you have these things on your car, on your clothes or in your office... and you REALLY want people to think you are a devout follower of the Christian faith... Go back and read up on Jesus Christ... Make sure He'd want you proclaiming to be one of His "employees."

Teenagers....

2006-12-30T12:11:00.000-05:00

Have I mentioned that I have a teenage daughter? Did you know that it is a universal law that once puberty strikes a teenage girl MUST disagree with everything her mother says?

Yes... It's true. Sad, but true.

I love being a Mom. Always have, probably always will. From her birth until last Friday night, I have loved every single second of being her Mom. There were no late nights with a sick or crying baby. The terrible two's were a myth in my house. Three and Four were fascinating and wonderful for both of us and the years that followed were equally fantastic! Even when other mother's warned me to prepare for middle school and I did… Like Y2K… Nothing. So admittedly…. I let my guard down.

Then she turned on me. How could this have happened? How did she go, in what seemed like minutes, from being a sweet, loving, fun, cheerful and carefree child to becoming an argumentative, sulking, petulant little brat???

The rolling of the eyes, the look as if to say, "Mom, you are a complete idiot," the big sigh with the arm cross in front of the chest and the disagreeing with EVERYTHING I say -- all mothers of teenage daughters know exactly what I am talking about… Don't get me wrong, all of those things combined don't begin to compare to the other stories I have heard and in some cases seen. With some teenage girls rapidly turning from happy kids who love life, to angry young women who are cutting, starving and acting out sexually… Admittedly, it could be allot worse. But still… WHY?? Why my daughter?? Was it too much to ask for her to be different than EVERY OTHER TEENAGE girl to ever have walked the planet??

In retrospect, having a teenager has quickly begun to resemble my labor and delivery with said child. I was a young mother and took all the childbirth classes I could handle. So when the time came, I just knew my own labor and delivery was going to go as effortlessly as any good Lamaze Movie. I had fully prepared myself for my contractions to begin 39 minutes apart, causing so little irritation that I would be able to continue doing dishes and animatedly laughing with my (then) husband. The contractions would over the course of several hours increase both in number and intensity but this time span would allow me to build up my tolerance and would surely allow for a smooth, happy and fulfilling Labor and Delivery. Enter my amazing unborn child. Two weeks past due... nearly nine pounds and not exactly wanting to give me the time I thought I needed to "Build My Tolerance."

I thought I had time to prepare. I thought wrong. My first contractions were a mere three minutes apart, not the 39 minutes I had envisioned, and were lasting over a minute a piece. There were no dishes to be done and the only thing I wanted to do with my husband in that moment was put him through a slow and tortuous death!! As quickly as it began, it ended and she came into my world with a vengeance just under eight hours later.

So I guess in hindsight, I should have been preparing for this moment for 14 years… And I am still shocked that it has happened so quickly.