In preparation for preschool, I ordered 2 toddler-sized pillows, one for
That was 4/4. The pillows were in stock and the shipping was priority
mail. That should have meant they'd ship soon, right?
4/22 rolls around and no pillows. I email the merchant, they say it had
shipped that day and that they'd send a tracking number. Great, fine.
As of today, still no fucking pillows. So I email them again, no
response. I escalate it to yahoo.
The people finally write back, pissed off that I've escalated it and
finally sent me a tracking number.
They sent it out yesterday, 24 days after I ordered it and a week after
they said they would. I'm so not impressed.
The place is Peanut Tree Designs, in case you're searching on them. If
you have a choice, spend your money someplace else.
This weekend was just crazy busy. I had an end-of-season party for my
In between all that, we had time to do something I'd been putting off
for a while: we shelled out for a new laptop for me. Thank God. I
didn't realize how slow mine was until the shiny new one arrived. It is
lightning fast and is solely responsible for me staying up till 4 am
playing Packrat on Saturday.
New lappy, I love you.
The biggest news is that we bit the bullet and let Val sport underpants
all weekend. She did SO well until Sunday, when she had 3 accidents
hanging out at Isaiah's house while I coached and Andrea played. But
today, she had 0 accidents so I think it's all good.
One other big thing is that I realized the preschool we'd picked out
isn't the best fit for us. It's just too far from home, especially with
gas at $4 a gallon. So we checked out a Christian preschool that's 4
minutes from home.
It's bright, sunny, clean and big. They have care for infants up
through pre-k, each group in a different room. We first looked at the
toddler room, for 18-30 months old. Those kids were babies who could
walk. Seeing all of them, kids who could be Val's peers, made me
realize that she's more of a little kid and less of a baby than I'd been
willing to own up to.
So we checked out the 2-3 year old room and even though there are more
kids per teacher than in the other room, it was quite clear that Val
belongs there. She went right to the toys and dug right in, she even
went and played with some of the other kids. One little girl fell and
hurt herself, Val went and asked if she was okay.
They have little kid-sized potties and work with them on potty
training. We liked the people and how clean the place is. The younger
kids play with older kids twice a day, there's learning and art and nap
No matter how much we like the place, it still breaks my heart a little
to think of her going to a school where she's 1 of 20+ kids. I know
she'll do great, I have no doubt about that, but me? I might just be a
wreck at first.
I'll let you know.
When Take Our Daughters To Work Day started (I can't remember if it was
Fast-forward to now. I have a pretty decent job and lo and behold, a
daughter who amazes me anew every single day. My company throws a
gigantic to-do for this day, only now it's interpreted as a giant
fucking party, complete with more than one bounce house, a fleet of
balloon animal 'artists,' a gift bag that includes a blowup ball and the
only sort of redeeming thing: a badge just like mine, only with Val's
cuteass picture on it.
As Val and I waded through the crowds gathered at the carnival games,
past the bounce house and free water bottles, the feminist in me shook
her head at this. It is not what the intent was, the founders surely
didn't envision little kids trying to knock down plastic bottles or a
sea of popcorn being popped. No, I'd imagine they pictured little girls
and bigger girls alike sitting with their moms in meetings, helping them
work through the pitfalls of a typical work day.
Though it sounds nice, I can assure you that my typical workday does not
include face painting or temporary tattoos.
I do hear that the afternoon program for the older kids features a long
presentation about our company, so that's closer.
Val was there for all of an hour, she sat nicely at my desk writing with
every marker and pen I have while I wrapped up some work. By the time
we braved the registration table, the place was packed, wall-to-wall
kids and parents waiting in longass lines. It was almost impossible to
get back through my building to the lobby.
We went out for a nice panera lunch and she was so wiped out that she
konked out on the way home, then stayed down for 2 hours. Realizing that
almost everyone at work was knee-deep in face painting and afternoon
movies, I logged in for a while, then took a nap myself.
Not a bad way to spend an afternoon, but still not what it was meant to
Since Ohio really isn't that exciting, I've bravely offered to take Val
I've been scouring the interweb for tickets for months, ever since this
wacky idea crept into my head. But no luck. Just as I was about to
give up and pay more than I ever have for a ticket home, I decided to
wait one day.
So this morning, I looked again and didn't see the crappy fare with good
times I'd almost bought yesterday. Fuck fuck fuck.
But then I search again and ta-da, there's an even lower fare, by almost
$100 per ticket! My dear friend Jennie will be so proud of my savings!
So I'm going to do it, load up my carryon bag, screw the gogo kidz
thingie onto Val's carseat and brave the wilds of the airport by myself,
with toddler in tow. I have to say that it's only after travelling to
TN, a trip where Val had her own seat the whole way and we made
judicious use of the gogo kidz thing (just google it, it's hard to
explain but oh so fantastic though please note that you must remove it
when you install it in the car, it can, however stay on while on the
plane, just GET A SEATBELT EXTENDER FOR YOUR SEAT, this I cannot stress
enough) that made me think I could pull off a trip like this.
That thing let us roll Val, in her carseat, all the way through a very
large airport. Seriously, magic.
So we're all set for a wacky wild 4th back east while Andrea gets a
little quiet time at home. Wish me luck.
Val has unearthed two of her Abby Cadabby dolls. The reuniting of Val
Oh, she said, here's Abby.
At least our hearts can stop breaking every 5 minutes as she asked
Today was Abby's memorial, at least the public one. I think the family
After much discussion we decided to bring Val. I went back and forth on
it, what would be appropriate, what would be respectful and in the end
it just seemed right to bring her along.
I'd tried to prepare her for it, I said we were going to church for
Abby, that she'd need to be quiet. When I told her, she listened very
earnestly then asked if she could bring along the piece of breast pump
tubing she's been having a blast with lately.
As you might imagine the place was packed. Young and old, we filled the
place, spilling out into and eventually filling the lobby. Val decided
to ask where Abby was, over and over. Talk about the most heartbreaking
question that anyone could ask right there and then, this tiny voice
saying 'where's Abby?'
It was a lovely service, as these things go, but in the end the only
thing I can say is that it was absolutely the saddest thing I've ever
My heart goes out to Abby's family. I suspect the hardest days are just
beginning. She was a beautiful girl who absolutely did not deserve what
happened to her.
How exactly do you teach a kid to hold in their poop while you're not
Since Val has had very very few wet diapers during the day recently I
And no, we're not going to have her wear the same diaper for more than 1
day. I wouldn't do that with underwear so there's the standard.
As of today, Val is wearing underwear during the day. Even if we leave
the house. I have 2 spare sets of clothes in my car, ready to swap out
but so far, we are 1 day into this Brave New World and it's going okay.
She had one minor poop incident at home before we went to gymnastics but
that doesn't count because 1. Less than half of it was part of the
'incident,' the rest made it to it's proper resting place, 2. It was at
home so cleanup was convenient, if not all that pleasant and 3. She knew
to tell me it was happening.
Daytime, diaper-free world, here we come!
Apparently my co-worker's comments struck a chord with the three of you
To respond to what some of you said... no, we're not looking to move to
Canada just because someone at work spoke without thinking. And no, in
case I wasn't clear, I wasn't giving his random marital assvice any
merit, I was merely noting the fact that it completely excluded my
Hope that clears things up a bit for y'all, whoever you are and however
you found me here.
No, I haven't talked to my co-worker who patently ignored my gayness the
Why? Because I've been busy working on stuff that's pretty
interesting. Also, in having switched to this new job, I took a ton of
pressure off and removed myself from a lot of the drama that had made me
I didn't grasp how miserable I really was until now that I'm away from
I'm back to thinking that I work at a pretty decent place. For now,
that's a very good start.
Today a co-worker was talking to a bunch of us about his marriage.
Completely glossing over me.
For the record, Andrea and I are coming up on 12 years together. 12
years and it's not enough to count in the eyes of the guy at work who
hears me talk about my family every single day.
Real fucking nice, like the lessons we've learned in those 12 years pale
in comparison to all the straight people in the room. It's not separate
but equal, folks, it's equal. We fight the same fights as everyone
else, we battle the same inner and outer demons, we love the same and we
are a family just like any other. And yet it's amazing to me how
consistently people forget that.
Yes, of course I'm going to say something to him about it.
And if somehow, the ruling comes down this summer that lets us get
married, you bet your ass we'll be down there getting hitched and you
bet your ass I'll mention being married a thousand times today if the
mood strikes me.
So the next time you find yourself talking relationships, please take a
half a second to acknowledge the many varieties of families that might
be represented in the room or in the conversation.
We are starting to grasp something really key to our ability to rest at
Today she napped for an hour and a half. Guess what I've been doing for
the last hour and a half?
I'm thinking she's ready to give up her nap. She wasn't that into it,
anyway. I also think she's ready for a switch in the bedtime routine
but I'm not sure what that might mean.
Going to bed has just never been her event.
I stayed up waay too late, farting around on pac.krat so by the time 4
Dude needs his rest.
I get up, go outside to call him in. The telltale drool is there on his
chest but we'd slept through most of the seizing festivites because,
thank the Jesus, his tail is already back to wagging. I slip him an
extra dose of his meds and check for damage.
Ew. Ew. Ew.
Usually when he seizes, he's sleeping in a bed or in a crate. He'll pee
and drool a lot but we can wash the bedding without too much trouble.
Whatever the hell went on tonight resulted in dog crap spread somewhat
evenly around the dining room, though mainly on the hardwood.
I went to grab paper towels and get to work, mainly to prevent the
spreading of said crap throughout the house. Naturally the paper towel
holder was empty so I had to go down to the basement for some more. On
the way, I found a mostly full bottle, er, jug, of Nature's Mi.racle so
I got down on my hands and knees, grateful that we'd forgotten to turn
the living room lights off since that helped me see the wake of
destruction better. As I'm cleaning, Pat comes sauntering in and I see
that he's ripped his nose open again. The bleeding has stopped and he's
mostly back to himself so I decide to leave well enough alone.
There is still bedding and a dog to be washed but at 4 a.m., enough is
enough. I checked on everyone one last time, then came back to bed.
I'm sure Val will wake up any minute now, I hear her in there coughing.
I worry that Pat's seizures are getting closer together. We've already
upped his pheno dose once in the last year, it's probably time to do it
So as you know, we've said all along that if Val chooses to wear
Today, we returned some perfectly nice shorts and t-shirts my mom had
sent her a while back. I'd been saving them for summer when I tried one
of the shirts on her. Lesson learned: "boxy" cut shirts are waaay too
wide for itty bitty toddlers. Oops.
Instead of the shorts and t-shirts, Val now has 2 ridiculously cute
Hann.a Ande.rsson dresses. One striped, one with polka dots. She
helped pick out both of them, to say that she's proud of herself is a
Obviously it's not how we dress. But that's the point. It's how Val
chooses to dress.
If you have a child who is on the small side for her age and that small
Because those potties are made for regular-sized older kids and your
kid? She'll fall in.
Though a cough lingers, I think we're all on the mend. So that's good.
The job is also better. I'm growing into my new role, it's a lot more
interesting (possibly because I'm doing new stuff) and the pressure I
felt before is off.
God, this is such boring post. But at least it's short.
Whatever Andrea and Val have, I thought I'd avoided it. Until last
I had a meeting this morning, part of my new job. I didn't want to miss
it so I drove in, weaving a bit on the road and thinking 'hrm, I'm kind
of an idiot for doing this.'
So I went to my meeting and for what might be the second time ever, I
went home early. Val and Andrea were home sick, too, so the family
project became Let's All Nap.
It took like 2 hours to get Val to sleep. Note to self: now that she
sleeps in her crib, it's almost impossible to get her to go to sleep in
our bed. Sigh.
Finally, she fell asleep and I tried to get some rest myself. Until
Patrick starting his low arooo of lonliness because Andrea had taken
Zeus into the vet for bloodwork (yes, of course, as always, he's fine.
The new pain meds are helping.) Val woke up and came back to our bed,
where we both slept until Andrea got home.
I still feel like crap but at least I'm more rested. I can only hope
that tomorrow brings more health for all of us.
Today, I offered Val some Top Quality clothes to wear, fine cargo shorts
Where she spied one of the 2 dresses she owns and said 'wear my dress,
And thus, her dress was worn today. She twirled around every chance she
got and was quite pleased with herself. I suspect this means more
dresses in our future, which is fine because as we've said all along, if
she chooses to wear them, she's welcome to.
As I watched my daughter twirl around in her 'very nice' dress, I
couldn't help but think about Abby's family, in a neighboring town and
the fact that they'll never see Abby twirl in her dresses again. I
understand that Abby played hockey like her mom does: bigger than her
small size would dictate she should.
Every parent who I've shared Abby's story with has the same reaction:
something like 'wow, that's awful' but then quickly, they change the
subject. Because no parent wants to imagine going through that.
There are no good words. It's just too damn sad.
But that's not the right phrase. It's not enough. No words will ever
I'm so sorry to have to tell you that Abby Leslie, our teammate
If you'd like to send a card or flowers to the family, their address is:
18925 Bellgrove Circle, Saratoga, CA 95070.
Cheez-its that are really old taste like total shit. Just because the
Blech, blech, ew.
We're on this routine now where Andrea and I swap nights to put Val
She did get out of bed to poop in the potty, so it's not all bad. But I
feel the rising frustration and the creeping exhaustion that comes from
sitting there, waiting for her to fall asleep.
It's nights like those that make me wish that we could be the kind of
parents who, when she was little, forced her to cry it out and go to
sleep on her own. Those parents now just plunk their kids in bed,
trusting that they'll fall asleep. Sounds nice, so nice.
But then I think of her being so little both then and now, how well she
responded to being cuddled when she was little, how deeply she slept
between us all those months, how genuinely upset she gets when left
alone before she's asleep and I know that we have done right by Val,
even if it's harder for us.