Grilled versus Steamed

We went to the fabulous Maine Diner today. Set on Route 1 in Wells, I can honestly say it is the best diner I have ever eaten at. I challenge any diner, any where, to take on the Maine Diner for fresh, delicious true diner food.

And they have their famous lobster pie.

The kids have, willingly, waited up to an hour at times to eat in the Maine Diner. Over the years, we have collected tee shirts, baseball hats and more kids cups than can be counted.

Today, Zachary got a meal with mac and cheese, cole slaw and a huge hot dog. The dog was grilled, as all dogs should be.

It tastes like it's steamed, he said approvingly. I like it.

It's grilled, I pointed out.

Yeah, I know but I only like steamed hot dogs.

You're eating a grilled one.

But it tastes steamed.

I rolled my eyes. I do not understand where they get the love of steamed dogs. When they were little, I took the Julia Child approach- cut the dog in half, and fry, with a heavy lid on it, flipping once to be sure it's nice and crispy on the outside. Put on a grilled bun and ... that's a hot dog.

Yes, Julia Child did in fact talk about how to cook a hot dog.

And if the weather is nice enough? Well, on the grill it goes, until it's got some serious black lines on it. Mmmm.

My kids like Hebrew Nationals- spicy, good texture- or Ball Park's- excellent chew and more "normal" flavor.

They like them steamed.

Except today. Yes, I need to be right about this. It was a Pearl hot dog, it was bunless, and it was grilled. Yes, I am precise about food. I don't like it when people salt food before they taste it- except my sister in law Cheri who uses so much salt there is no food in the world that is salty enough for her. I don't like it when people say they don't like something they have never tried.

And a hot dog should be grilled.

Delicious, Zachary said.

Tomorrow, I am going to have a battle of the dog. We have, on different occasions, had blind taste tests. Root Beer- we found A&W to be the best and surprisingly a store brand to be second best and the most expensive IBC? last place. Peanut butter- Jiff won and even Walter who insists Skippy is the best picked Jiff.

It's a fun way to learn about packaging, marketing, and what you really like about a food.

After years of steaming hot dogs against my will, I'm throwing down the gauntlet.

Who knows, maybe I'll pick a steamed dog.

And I'll say, hmmm, tastes grilled.

Streamers, Votes and a Great Wife

I have the best wife in the whole wide world.

At least today she is.

Without my request, without my begging, she took today off. We have two teacher parent conferences, plus it's Jake's birthday. Oh, and it's Tuesday, my most dreaded day of the week.

On Tuesdays, Zachary and Jake get out of school at 12:30pm. Don't ask me why, it's just the way it is. It tends to be a day of playdates, running around, friends, lunches, and often appointments. Ben and Zachary always have their music lessons on Tuesdays. One of my friends said she can tell it's music lesson time because I start sending endless emails via my iPhone.

It is always the longest day of the week for me.

People often think with four parents, it must be easier. It's not. It can be a scheduling nightmare. No one is ever happy. Always something forgotten, always another thing to plan. As the stay at home parent, I am usually the one left with the running around and the object of ire when things don't work out.

Not today. My wonderful wife is helping and I didn't even have to ask.

I've been doing this "job" (I use quotes because god knows I don't get paid for it) for 14 years. Like any job, it has it's ups and downs. There are things I love doing and things I don't. I am on call 24//7.

A friend wrote to me yesterday and said even something as simple as wanting to go to a lecture at night, or a movie, or anything, results in a major effort. And if someone is sick? Or it's raining so practice is canceled, forget it. You're on.

Whatever you've had planned, it's thrown out the window.

When the kids were little, it was easier. Okay, it wasn't easier it was different. I had more control over what was going on, when it went on, and could plan the week without a huge amount of effort. Not anymore. They have their own ideas about what they are going to do- and I believe that is how it should be.

As I write this, a historic debate is happening in Vermont. Ninety nine votes are needed in the House to override the veto- the Senate is all set. Me? I have to go decorate the house with streamers and balloons, wrap presents and go buy the ingredients for a much loved, birthday boy requested taco dinner. Jeanine is at the dentist with Ben, and I'll be able to make a conference call today that is very important.

I think she knew I was running thin. She's a good woman and I know this was a treat.

I love being the mom of three boys. No question. Lately, though, the lack of flexibility in my own life has left me on empty. No time to write, to really sit down and write, no time to have a thought that is not interrupted. My office is a mess of urgent things to do, like those pesky bills to pay, taxes, forms to fill out. Not to mention the laundry, the every day picking up of the house, kitty litter to be changed.

I hope we get the votes in Vermont. I hope they realize this is not the changing of the world, but the acceptance of the change that has already happened. If I'm a threat to society as we know it, it's only because I haven't done my boys laundry in the last few days.

Let me tell you, that smell is enough to kill anyone.

Now, onto the streamers....

A Bright, Shining Light

Today, the Gay and Lesbian Advocates and Defenders (GLAD) filed a suit in federal court in Boston, MA to challenge the denial of critical federal benefits to same-sex couples.

Yes. It's time for the Supreme Court.

Years ago, when GLAD was pulling together a group of plaintiffs to challenge the marriage laws in Massachusetts, many said it was not time. Many said, we are still lacking in basic rights- how can we go for marriage? It'll put us behind by decades.

Today, we are approaching the fifth anniversary of marriage equality in our state. We have recently had an unprecedented majority of House and Senate co-signers for a Transgender equality bill and look to celebrate it's passage later this year. We have secured dollars in a difficult state budget for LGBT youth, AIDS funding, and money to address issues facing LGBT seniors.

We have pushed the envelope, no question. And we will continue to.

The lawsuit addresses Section 3 of the federal Defense of Marriage Act- and only section three. It targets the rights and protections denied in Social Security, federal income tax, federal employees' and retirees' benefits, and in the issuance of passports.

Only in MA and CT, where marriage is recognized by the state. For over 200 years, the federal government has not interfered with state's rights around marriage- until DOMA.

I find in my travels, that people assume that being married in MA means married on a federal level. It does not.

This action does not effect any other state. It will not repeal DOMA or every state's right to have some ridiculous anti-equality law on their books, as many do. It does, however, put a bright, shining light on the inequalities our families face even in the state where we have so much.

Shining that light, as Mary Bonauto said, should generate support in all the states. When the country gets to know the plaintiff couples, when they meet the State Trooper, Mary Ritchie who puts her life on the line every day for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Her wife is not eligible for the full line-of-duty benefits for surviving spouses should she die in the line of duty. Or Herbert Burtis, 78 years old who lost his partner of 60 years last fall. He is denied the additional money his husband's social security would pay him if he was a recognized spouse.

After 60 years together, sharing lives, income, a home... nothing. But the married heterosexual couple in MA or CT- no questions asked.

These stories, this case, is about that bright, shining light. It is about understanding why we fight for equality every day. It's about why we need to continue the fight on all levels, in every state.

Years ago, people thought the marriage fight was wrong. Today, we have two states with marriage equality, and are fast approaching many more to have the same decency and fairness for all their citizen. Some states are still fighting to have civil rights bills.

The movement forward is never easy. As we enjoy these debates in this country, people are hung in others for the suspicion of being homosexual. Should we stop our rights to further theirs first?

Or do we all keep moving, the best we can, with the resources we have, to tell the stories that will ultimately make the difference for all.

I say, move forward.

And with Mary Bonauto in charge? We're not going to lose.

No one will lose.

Moving Forward

Denver... you have to love a city where they don't run you down when you're in the crosswalk. And everyone is actually in the crosswalk.

Strange for a Bostonian to see.

The community continues to digest the Prop 8 loss. Sure, people are talking about AZ and FL but the focus is on California. What went wrong? How could we have lost? Will we ever win a ballot question or are we destined to lose them forever?

The most productive statement came from Nadine Smith, of Equality Florida. We must, she said, be out on every form, every moment, of every waking day. If we travel, we fill out forms as married people. If we file taxes? We file as married people. When ever, where ever we can, we must identify ourselves.

It's Harvey Milk's message. It continues to be relevant.

It is an act of non-violent civil disobedience. We must refuse to be considered single when we are families.

There is still a level of finger pointing going on that makes me very uncomfortable. I don't see the point. Positive messages, like Ms. Smith's, is where we need to focus our energy.

Let's move forward, folks.

Perfect Parents

I'm at the Creating Change conference in Denver. A massive gathering of LGBT folks put on by the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, it is something to behold. An entire hotel filled with every beautiful aspect of our community.

I've never been to one before and I must say, I'm a little overwhelmed.

I went to a session today on "Invisible Families," which talked about LGBT parenting and how we are identified in the community- or not. It was a six hour session and I'll be honest- I didn't stay for it all. But in one small group session, we talked about the changing nature of how we are seen in the community today.

One woman talked about her fears as a soon to be mom. The challenges that face her, her partner and their baby to be felt incredibly scary to her.

It is, I thought, but I didn't want to freak her out.

The irony is, most of what she needs to be afraid of isn't about being a lesbian and being a parent. No question there are hurdles and discrimination but when that sweet baby comes into the world, the obsession about when the last diaper was changed, how often they are nursing and please god, will there ever be sleep again takes over the angst about being different.

Until they are school age- then it comes back and rightfully so.

One point made, that hit home for me, was the concern that we are so afraid of being judged harshly simply because of who we are, we try to be perfect.

And there is no such thing as a perfect parent.

The pressure, though, is there. Some of it is self imposed but some of it comes from the community at large asking questions- do you have appropriate role models for your child? If you are two women, you must have a man in your life to help teach children manly things. If you are two men, well, how can any child possibly live without a mother?

Questions not often asked of heterosexual couples. Or single heterosexual parents, although I do think single dads deal with similar issues. I wonder if people who ask "do you know the father?" realize how incredibly insulting that is. Do they? Are they sure?

There is also an overriding fear of being too sexual. One woman quoted a couple in Canada who had a newborn, who swore they were in bed by 10:15pm every night and went straight to sleep.

As if that makes them OK to parent? I say get them a babysitter and remind them that without a healthy sex life, chances are they won't make it through the next 18 years.

And yet a Florida pastor urged his heterosexual congregation to have sex every day for a month. He believed sex was important to relationships. And that while "Jesus disapproved of pre-marital sex and promoted sex in marriage."

But since we're seen through the lens of sexuality, we have to go overboard to prove we are sexless. Only there to parent, nothing else. Because... well, I'm not really sure why.

Except that we all feel the pressure to fit in, to be okay in the communities eyes, and our community, when we become parents, changes drastically. We are thrust into school situations where we are the only ones. We want our kids to be accepted.

We want to be accepted. It's human nature.

So we tuck away parts of ourselves, and our struggles to look the right way.

I wanted to tell that young woman it would all work out. Get a strong group of other gay parents to have time with- some of it is for the kids but mostly? For you. So you have a place to say, I'm struggling. I'm scared. Where you don't have to be the role model for every gay person who ever had a child.

For goodness sakes, don't ever stop having sex. We didn't go through all this bullshit, discrimination and angst to give up an essential part of being human.

There are no perfect parents. Parents are, as a whole, are messy, make mistakes, wish back things we've done. It's the most terrifying and exhilarating experience you will ever have. You will feel joy and love in a way you never knew imaginable- unconditional and on a cellular level.

Try, please try, to let the world's judgment stop at your doorstep.

There are no perfect parents.

Ground Control...

to Major Tom...
commencing countdown, engines on.
check ignition and may God's love be with you...



I'm telling you, it's never dull around here in the morning.

Here Comes the Sun...

The sun is in the perfect spot on the horizon and the light is pouring into my office. Sure beats a SAD light box, not quite as good as Hawaii. It almost seems to radiate enough heat to go sit outside in but I know better.

Our president-elect has been making the rounds in the last couple weeks. Most recently, splashing the airways with his Surgeon General nominee. While the media seems thrilled with opining over the choice, I can help but wonder about the real tasks of the administration ahead.

We love a sunny outlook in this country. Perhaps because we were weaned on Bambi losing mom, but when anyone even begins to tell a happy tale, we are quick to believe.

I love the sun. I don’t particularly like reading about the bombing in Gaza, children found huddled with their dead mothers. Or the reality that one out of every seven homeowners will be foreclosed on this coming year. Or how billions upon billions of dollars are needed to move our public school systems forward in order to remain competitive with the rest of the world.

I know I have to. I am in the sun. So many are not.

I hope Obama stays clear of the media drama. That he stay focused on the war, the economy and education and not the pictures of his “abs” from the beach or his choice of an appointment to a relatively minor post.

The LGBT community has been disrespected- see Rick Warren’s part in the inauguration events next to our, um, marching band- and passed over in this administration already. I’m not surprised. He said “gay” a lot in his campaign speeches which was great but the actual embrace, a real seat at the table, is still a far away dream.

To be honest, if he gets the war, Gaza and the economy right? I’m happy to let him slide until he builds the credibility to go ahead and make a few things happen- like the end of DOMA, DADT and a fully inclusive ENDA. If you’ve fixed those things, some civil rights should be a piece of cake.

Let’s not forget, rights are free to give. They don’t increase the budget. Leaves the country with good feeling, no raised tax ceiling.

This is Obama’s moment in the sun. He may never again reach such high levels of popularity. Please, for the country’s sake, may he not be blinded by it. I don’t mind a somewhat goofy choice for Surgeon General and as long as the General in Regional Command is dedicated to leaving Iraq.

I hope he uses the power of words carefully, especially when talking about the economy. A single Hank Paulson speech can tank the markets for weeks. What we need is economic stability, not the current panic driven roller coaster.

Mostly? Let’s all stay focused on the real issues of the day and not be suckered by some of the ratings-driven, sexed up nonsense the mainstream media throws at us.



Because just like now, as the sun is slipping down behind the house next door, the sun will go away. I hope we have the real change we need when it does.

It Doesn't Make Sense

My son came home from school yesterday after having watched a movie about the Civil Rights movement in the 1960's.

It was horrible, he said.

As he described the church bombing, the hoses and the police dogs, he asked me, why?

People who were in power wanted to stay in power. They wanted to beat them down but they fought back.

Jake was listening to this conversation. After about an hour, he came up and asked me, Why did they kill the girls that were changing their clothes?

I said, They bombed the church. They didn't care who was inside.

He kept asking questions, throughout the rest of the day. Finally, I said to him, You're trying to make sense of this. It doesn't make any sense.

Eleven gay bars in Seattle had ricin threats sent to them in the mail on Tuesday. Last night, hackers brought down a bunch of LGBT blogs.

"Pam's House Blend, RadicalRuss.net, American Liberalism, BeThink.org are some of the sites affected. I haven't gone down the whole Soapblox blogroll yet, so far it seems the state blogs were not affected; I assume the hack is restricted to only one server."

As I listened to my sons try and digest the horror of the Civil Rights movement, I wanted to say something about what is going on today in the LGBT movement. How transpeople all over the south are being killed with no real police effort to do anything about it. How Sean Kennedy's murderer is being set free after little time in jail.

How could I? How could I explain that people do hateful things to people who are different and that I, their mother, am one of the targets? Just because the one I am in love with, the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, share the responsibilities of adulthood with, share my bed with, is a woman instead of a man.

It doesn't make any sense.

Neither Great Nor Horrible

It's been a long day and I'm tired. We made it to Florida but not without major fireworks along the way.

Just normal teenager stuff, I guess.

It was hard to have my sister in law come up and nail Ben's outrageous sense of privilege. I mean, she had only spent a couple hours with him. But she's right. It does ooze out of his pores.

Because so much of the family is down here right now, we're actually staying at a hotel. It's a little odd to be here on the beach instead of our usual space. I'm sitting on a balcony, though, and listening to the waves crash.

It's a nice change of pace.

I had a terrible moment with Ben this morning. It made me feel like I was no better than my mother in the parenting world. Maybe worse because so many people think so highly of my thoughtfulness.

I was not thoughtful.

The irony? My mother would have cut me slack, soothed me, and said I did the best I could. She was generally very kind about my parenting.

It's not about me, though. an easy place to slink to for comfort- I'm a bad person- instead of realizing it's a hard moment in Ben's life. He's struggling, anxious and afraid.

And he's still a boy in so many ways.

Except when he uses the "f" word with me.

He's a good boy. I'm a good parent. Neither of us are great. Neither horrible. Just average and trying our best to figure out the world.

Tomorrow, we will hit the beach. The Floridians we are visiting rarely like the beach in "winter" but luckily there are many other folks here, all from cold climates and dying for the sea breeze and sunshine.

It'll be okay.

I hope.

Radical Change in Ordinary Moments

All I can say is that is one helluva lot of work for a single day of celebration.

It's quiet in the house now. The boys went with Walter and Allan to sleep over last night. This morning? Haircuts. We are off to Florida to celebrate Jeanine's Mom's 70th birthday and there will be a family photo taken. I'm not going to have them look like orphaned children pulled off the streets.

The cats are snorting their catnip toys. I fear for the tree but it's going to be taken down today, along with all the dishes piled up being cleaned, the decorations all put away.

I think that's my favorite part of Christmas- getting back to normal again.

Jeanine is still sleeping and there is much laundry to be done before I can pack for the trip.

Last night, we all played the game the boys gave Jeanine for Christmas- Rock Band 2. Allan scored a perfect 100% singing "Spirit in the Sky." We had a fabulous dinner of homemade wontons, finishing just in time to see the Celtics choke and lose.

As much as I love being a grinch and complain, I have to say, Christmas was very nice this year. Jeanine and I talked about how we only have a few more years with the kids being so excited they have to be up at 6AM. We'll have to give the cats their little 'nip stash the night before so they tear across us in the morning.

This holiday has been filled with old and new friends. I've mended a relationship with a friend that was very important to me. We went bowling with our Moms group that has become my extended family the weekend before Christmas which was playful and fun. As we all lounged on couches eating pizza after, I tried my best to soak in all the love.

It's a little overwhelming sometimes.



Ben was thrilled with his gift from his most inappropriate Aunt- Flava of Love, seasons one through too many.



Zachary ended up outfitted for... something.



And Jake... Jake is still little, in so many ways. He pretended to believe in Santa, although quietly he did tell me he knew better. I told him the magic of Santa never goes away.

There were a few tears- the new Star Wars lego set was hard to assemble even with Mom Jeanine's help- but nothing dramatic. I took my dog on a long walk in the woods and it was a glorious, sunny day.

As I get ready for the clean up, I can't help but wonder what it will take in this society to recognize my family. Do we have to be victims of brutal crimes to be sympathetic? Do we have to be dying or sick in hospitals before someone believes asking for our rights is a reasonable thing?

Why can't it be simply because it's the right thing to do? In so many ways, as I sit here this morning, I'm like every other suburban housewife. I don't understand.

Maybe it's because no one takes the time to see the ordinary. It doesn't make you cringe, nor laugh out loud. I hope to create radical change in those moments. I do not want to be a victim to be heard.

For now? I'll go fill the dishwasher. Start taking the lights down off the tree. Wake my wife up and get her to unclog the sink in the bathroom downstairs.

Christmas is over. I love my family.

And just like every other suburban housewife, I will do my best for them in this coming year.

Quiet Sunday Morning

It's quiet this morning. Ben and Jake are at their dad's house and Zachary and his good friend are here munching in the other room on their most favorite sleepover breakfast- fried egg sandwiches.

These two are the sweetest of boys. They played video games last night for a while then went up to Zachary's room- and Zachary played his saxophone for his pal. Christmas songs.

Earlier in the night, Zachary had come up to me and said, Mom, you are so stressed.

I was. I couldn't deny it.

You need to relax, he said.

Too much to do, I said to him. He and his friend looked at me and shook their heads. I made no sense to their eleven year old minds. Recently, Zachary had compared me to Zeus and himself to Atlas.

You rule the sky, he had said. I just hold it up.

Such a middle child. And how foolish I must have sounded, as ruler of the sky, saying I could not take time to relax on a Saturday night. He knew he didn't HAVE to hold up the sky. There was Hercules to be tricked, after all.

Last week was absolutely insane for me. So much going on, many things to do. I've hardly had time to breathe. I need to slow down today. Take a walk. Read the paper.

And listen to the collective wisdom of two fabulous eleven year old boys.

Happy Birthday, Ben

Today is Ben's birthday. 13 years ago, after many many hours of labor, he finally joined the world.

He is officially a teenager.

My sweet baby has been replaced with a very tall, grunting guy.

Yeah.

Nah.

I dunno.

That's pretty much big conversation from him. Unless it's American Idol season.

But when he was little... oh, the curls on his head. (Zachary is in blue. Jake was not born yet.)



He loved a rocking giraffe my mother gave him and Zachary for Christmas. It was the same year she was there and let them play with her fur coat. In this video, you can hear her laughing off screen.





He's grown up now. Not completely, by any means but he's taller than Jeanine. He's handsome and full of teen angst. There are days when we get along great and days I have no idea what to do with him.

Okay, to be honest? It's more of an hour to hour thing.

Tonight Walter and Allan will come over and we'll have the birthday dinner. Until this morning, I thought I was going to have to have Kentucky Fried Chicken, as that was his choice until I finally begged to make him something at home, please please please. He chose chili, corn bread and chocolate cake. I should let them all have Coke and we can have the "C" meal.

I watch those early videos and I cannot believe he was really that little. That he was so free to be himself, wearing pink slippers and dancing a ballerina move. He was full of energy and excitement all the time. He laughed out loud and said I love you all the time.

I know that little boy exists inside the rough, tough, teenage exterior. I know there are times he would love to twirl. I also know all that kindness is still inside, wrapped in anger and frustration from not fitting in the way he thinks he should.

Not to mention the curls which now exist tucked under a "gansta" baseball cap.

I love him and some day, he will be able to love himself.

Happy Birthday, Ben.

A Deep, Man Voice

Every time I hear it, I look to see if Walter is here. If someone has come in the door I didn't know about.

A deep, man voice.

It's Ben's. His voice has almost completely changed into a deep baritone. I don't expect it in my house. I have little boys. Babies, really. Not almost grown men with hairy legs and voices with resonance.

The words that come out of the madly growing body don't quite match the maturity of the sound.

Jake! You smell like farts! Doesn't scream responsibility and social awareness. When those words come out, I'm never surprised, or caught off guard. It's the single words, or the chatting with the cats- to whom he is enormously polite- that I find jarring.

Who is that man?

My son is going to be thirteen this fall. Most of his friends will have bar or bats mitzvah's. They have studied long and hard a difficult language and how to read from the Torah. Even with candy studded events or sparkling disco balls twirling, there is a moment of being welcomed into the community as a man, or woman. A full member.

Of course these kids are still kids, by our American, modern standards, but there is something powerful about having to work for something that has a long tradition. The process does change them.

As an atheist, I'm not sure what makes the most sense for my boys. We attend the Unitarian Universalist church but have become lax in the last couple of years. But I'm not sure I want the passage to manhood be marked by some religious event.

I don't believe in religion as much as I don't believe in God. I think Karl Marx was right in that religion is the opiate for the masses. It sooths people into accepting plights they should never accept.

How does my son transition into being a man? The physical changes are clear. The emotional ones are harder to define. He has more responsibility now than before and more freedom.

And he still tells his brother he smells like farts.

It's going to be an interesting year, with this growing young man in my house. He will need to learn to be a part of a community, to be kind when it's hard to, to lose at times and graciously win, remembering the sting of being on the other side. He needs to do for others outside himself- more than buy a slice of pizza for a pal out of cash. He needs to start to understand there are great injustices in our world- and has been for centuries.

He will need to understand some people will hate him without even knowing his name.

At the same time, he is exploring a body full of new and amazing sensations. With all the tingles, excitement and joy comes responsibility. First loves. Heartbreaks.

He's not a baby anymore. All these years and you'd think I'd be prepared. I'm not. His deep voice, though, startles me back to reality.

I have a young man in my house.

With much to learn.

It's Sunday? Already?

It's been days since I've written. I miss my blog! But it's been good for me to take the break, to reach inside and to sit with a lot of big feelings that come up.

Ms. Moon, it was indeed refreshing and eyeopening.

As of Friday, though, it's been Moms' Weekend. Every year, for a weekend, the Moms and kids come to Ogunquit, Maine to stay at our house for a weekend. We eat, we drink wine, we eat more, we talk and talk and talk...

It is shocking to me, often, how many people don't take the time or care to know about their deepest inner selves. To think about and discuss interpersonal relationships. Not my Moms. We all get into the minutia of life and laugh on our way there.



We have the setting, that's for sure.

It is intimate and we have a chance to check in about our kids, where they've been over the last year, and our daily lives. More than that, we have time to both sit quietly on the beach with each other and take turns playing with the kids.

And did I mention we eat?



I don't mean to brag but we are all great cooks. Not good cooks, but great cooks. One cooks amazing desserts and Brazilian food- well, really, any ethnic food. One is the salad queen but please don't ever think salads are all she can do. One doesn't do the kitchen much but when she does, a great spanakopita comes out.

We love each other and over the years have come to delight in this treasured weekend.

I am truly blessed.

Middle School Picnic

I was allowed- and yes, I do mean allowed- to go to Ben's middle school picnic today for his "team" at school. The 6th grade is divided into three teams- Yellow, Orange and Red.

Ben is on Orange and today was a day at a park very close to our house for a BBQ and hanging out in the sun. Parents were asked to volunteer to bring some of the extras- sodas, chips, desserts- and come by if they wanted.

I signed up for sodas and stopping by. Ben looked at the slip and said, NO WAY.

Oh, come on, I won't talk to any of your friends.

Well...

ONLY if you bring soda and PROMISE not to talk to me at all.

Deal.

NOT AT ALL, Mom.

I know. Got it. I'll chat with the teachers.

He was a bundle of nerves last night but managed to not get in too serious of trouble. This morning, the soda list was given to me along with the reminder not to talk to him.

Got it.

After witnessing what felt like genetic-pituitary madness, I decided Middle School is the single most awkward time of your life. There was one boy who was over 6 feet tall and several of the girls who were barely over 4 feet tall. Boys who were all bones and limbs, and girls who were so filled out I wasn't sure if they were students or classroom aides.

Until they started to talk and then I knew the familiar lilt of sassy-knowitall- obnoxiousness that only comes from a 12 year old.

Not a single one of the 80 kids were even remotely comfortable with their bodies. They moved as if they were only half under control of the steaming pit of hormones inside them.

There were the quiet girls who brought books to read- they broke my heart. I remember being painfully shy. There were the table of mean girls- you knew they were tearing everyone apart, laughing at people and completely full of themselves. Tough boys, a few terribly shy boys who didn't even bring books to read but wandered around the edges watching.

The one new twist from when I was in middle school was the sports playing. It was completely co-ed, girls and boys playing basketball, baseball. In my day, I was almost always the only girl who played ball. It was great to see.

I helped set up the table for food. I chatted with teachers and other parents. Ben was not to be seen.

After lunch, he came up to me. Mom, bring Beanie.

Huh?

Bring Beanie over.

How would you ask that?

Please... please bring Beanie over.

Ok.

I was amazed he spoke to me so I went to get the dog. I did a few things around the house- dishes put away, folded a load of laundry- and Ben called me.

Mom... where are you?

On my way.

Recently, it's been clear that having parents- especially gay parents- is mortifying for Ben. He's uncomfortable with it and I'm guessing most of his new friends do not know. It's why he didn't want me to go in the first place.

It was nice to have him call and want me there.

Okay, he wanted the dog there, not me.

Beanie and I arrived. Ben ran over to get her leash and immediately became the center of attention. The shy girls put their books down and came and pet her. The awkward boys ran over to pet her. Ask her name. What kind of dog is she...

Mom... what kind of dog is she again?

He spoke to me in front of his friends. Whoa.

Golden mixed. She's a little of everything.

I was called into action when she did her business on the field- picking up poop seems to be one of my callings in life. Other than that, I went and sat on a shady bench.

Eventually, Ben tired of parading Beanie around and brought her over to me. The kids, however, didn't tire of petting the dog and asking questions. She is so demure and gentle even the most timid kids made it over at least once.

Watching those kids today gave me a new sense of empathy for Ben. The girl he used to "date" hounded him relentlessly around the yard. His buddy he's known forever- a goofy boy whose body is being completely driven by sugar and impulse with no volume control- danced around him suggesting a million different things to do.

He kept it all together, remaining cool, aloof and annoyed by everything and everyone. I know his fears about being different, not fitting in, desperately wishing he was like everyone else. A storm of uncertainly brews inside him and he is only just beginning to learn how do deal with it.

On the outside, today? He pulled it off masterfully.

And if you're ever feeling old, fat, insecure, unsure, or generally pathetic? Go to a Middle School at the end of the day and watch the kids file out.

If nothing else, it'll give you a little perspective.

LGBT Families Day: Rights or No Rights, We’re Still Parents

Fall soccer forms due August 8th, doctor’s appointments for summer camp forms and dinner cooked- but not yet eaten- by 4PM today. There is a little league baseball game and Zachary is pitching. By the time we get home, the baseball player will be too tired to wait another twenty minutes for the water to boil, the pasta to cook.

It’s another day of parenting. Not incredibly exciting or sexy but incredibly rewarding. I often am too tired at the end of the day to remember all that I did- the pick ups, drop offs, uniforms cleaned and lunches packed. But it always feels good.

Except when it doesn’t. Like when someone is sick, fighting about doing his or her homework or arguing over a toy.

Today is the third annual blogging for LGBT families day. Most of the posts are in the morning because we’re all too tired by night.

I find it fascinating that my neighbors have more rights than I do. I don’t see them as particularly better parents- or worse- we’re all simply trying to get our kids to bed at a decent hour and everyone to brush their teeth.

The only reason those parents have more rights is because they are heterosexual. They get to be married and recognized federally and internationally. There is no question about parenthood, or rights, or visitation, or inheritance or all the other rights heterosexuals enjoy in this country.

Not for my kids. My kids are being raised in a somewhat unusual family. My wife Jeanine and I decided many years ago that we wanted to have a family. Women all over the country were starting to have kids on their own, going to sperm banks and buying the best fit on paper.

Or at least what we thought was a good fit. It’s a complicated decision, to say the least.

We were reading about the ground breaking second parent adoption cases and realized we could have a baby. Raise a family. Things we never thought were possible when we were young lesbians, coming out in a world not so friendly.

We talked about it endlessly. We talked about names, how many and how we couldn’t wait to teach them how to throw a ball.

We also talked about what we valued, how we wanted our kids to be in the world. How we wanted strong girls and thoughtful boys. We talked about how we would deal with the homophobia they would face.

We never expected the reality. The long nights of wakeful babies ready to play at 3AM or the time that Ben, our oldest, was so nervous at his preschool graduation he threw up all over Jeanine.

Who had lifted him to her shoulders.

We did not expect to find such an accepting community. Or how our families of origin would open their arms to us. (Especially those Iowa people.)

We prepared endlessly for the “Where’s my Daddy?” question. The answer ended up being a simple, but firm, We are your parents, assuring our sons that in fact, they had parents like everyone else.

Because we are the boys parents. It may not have been either of our sperm, but we indeed created these kids. We chose to do it and it was not a simple process. There was no support in the greater world for our decision and while a loving community cushioned us, we were also denied insurance payments. We sought out a LGBT friendly doctor. We researched the best hospital to go to that would accept the other parent without question.

There are no “oops” babies in our house. AND we’ve always been clear this was a choice, a choice we made not only for ourselves but also for our children.


We’ve worked hard to create a family to address the kids’ needs. To have positive male role models, indeed surrogate dads to step into their lives. Sometimes, we’ve been right.

Sometimes we’ve been wrong. Pretty much like every other parent in the neighborhood.

In some ways, it is not any different at all. We all worry about high fevers or the cost of college. How to get them to pick up dirty socks or use the potty.

The only real difference? Some of us have rights, and some of us don’t. The irony is, it’s not going to stop us from raising families. Being parents.

Or putting our very tired starting pitcher’s to bed.

After all… I’m here. I’m queer. And I have to get to bed before 9:30PM or I’ll never be able to get up with the kids.

California Supreme Court Declares, “YES TO MARRIAGE EQUALITY!”

Today the State’s supreme court decided the issue of who can get married in California. The answer is, everyone. Gay or straight, marriage is a right and there is no second-class status in their state.

I’m a proud resident of Massachusetts and I will never forget the day the court ruled in favor of the Goodridge Plaintiffs. I raised my fists up to the sky and felt powerful in a way that I had never felt before. I was equal. Discriminating against my right to marriage was unconstitutional. It was not acceptable in the eyes of the law.

As a lesbian, I have never felt protected by the law. When we went through the process of second parent adoption in Massachusetts for our three boys, each time I had a lump in my throat. The laws were created to keep people like me away.

No more.

California has taken the next step in the fight for equality. Without question. There are many more to take before LGBT people are seen as equals in the law, equals in this country on both state and federal levels.

And there will be backlash, threats of the end of the world. Funny thing is, we’re still all alive and breathing in Massachusetts. Heterosexuals are still getting married- and divorced- at the same rate as always. The biggest difference is a lot of kids, like mine, have their families protected.

Rights guaranteed.

Because it’s not about “gay marriage.” It’s about equal access to a legal institution that has been created to ensure committed couples are protected. It ensures the children of that couple are protected under the law. There have been thousands of legal precedents based on the institution of marriage that simply cannot be replicated by a new term, or new legal definition.

And no one is going to force any religious institution to embrace is because in our country, we have a separation of church and state. I know it doesn’t seem like we do, but in fact, that is required by our constitution.

Congratulations, California. Welcome to the increasing number of states that refuse to discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation.

It feels good, doesn’t it?

Tide is Changing

If the California Supreme Court rules in favor of allowing gay marriage, as is expected, do we all understand the magnitude of this decision?

Massachusetts set the precedent with Goodridge vs. the Department of Health. The first state in the country that allowed equal marriage rights. Because it's not so much about "gay marriage" now is it? It's about fair and equal access to rights.

If California rules in a similar fashion? It is no longer a single rouge state. It's a movement across the country.

I don't think marriage rights are the end all and be all of the LGBT civil rights movement. But it is a cornerstone. A key piece.

And funny thing? California doesn't have an antiquated law from 1913 that doesn't allow people from out of state to get married.

There will be no stopping the tide of change.

California Court to Rule on Marriage Equality

Ah, the rumor mill was turning, but I just received verification from Lambda Legal


"Lambda Legal is co-sponsoring two events in Los Angeles... first, a news
conference at noon with members of the legal team and community leaders at
the Village at Ed Gould Plaza, and second, a community gathering at 7:00 pm
at the intersection of San Vicente and Santa Monica Boulevards in West
Hollywood. Please spread the word!"

I am spreading the word!

Bigger Fish to Fry

Yes, I’m in a mood today. I hated the way the media covered last night- again, Clinton gets very different treatment. Exit polls are fine for North Carolina, but not Indiana.

Whatever. I give up. Hands in the air. It’s over.

Besides, I have bigger fish to fry.

My son, my twelve-year-old son, has a girlfriend. She asked him out, he said yes and the phone has not stopped ringing since.

My question to you all is… he wants to go out on a date with her. Go to the movies. I’m not sure if this is a group thing or not- I think it is but then something he said yesterday made me think it wasn’t.

I thought this middle school dating thing was that they asked to go out with someone, then they talked a lot on the phone and that was it. A few days later, they break up so they can ask someone else. I didn’t think they actually went and did anything together.

Like sit in a dark theater with no parents around, alone.

Okay, that sounds like a really really bad idea to me.