Depending on where you live it’s likely your kids are either already back in school or headed back soon — possibly leaving you with a bit of free time that would usually be spent organizing the house or shepherding everyone from one evening summer event to another. I know we tried having an Offbeat Families Book Club last year to varied degrees of success, so we don’t have to go that route — but I’d love to know what you guys are reading nowadays!
My best friend “Maria” and her adorable two-year old lived with Maria’s mom. Said Mom has basically made the situation unlivable and they need to get out of there immediately. Now, she’s going to be staying with me for a few days, but we are trying to find a more long-term solution.
Connecticut mandates that all couples with children who are seeking a divorce attend a series of parenting classes (not together, thank GOD.) The classes are intended to offer advice for co-parenting post-divorce. These classes were long. And often boring. And filled with a lot of “Well, duh” information. But I learned a few good tips that I assumed I would never use because I was certain we would never be able to effectively co-parent.
I’ve tried to just grin and bear it. I’ve tried crafting things for the future baby in hopes of convincing my brain that we’re moving forward. I originally started all of the over-planning in hopes of combating the Baby Fever but I (obviously) got carried away and it’s so much worse now. Nothing I’ve tried has worked.
I have a hard time explaining to non-transgender people how I knew I was male from the start; I just did. I sometimes ask them, “How do you know you’re male or female?” Often, they go quiet and look stumped, because they can’t answer it either. Most people seem to just know, right? You can’t pinpoint what makes you feel that way or when exactly you realized it, can you? You likely always just knew.
It happened when I was 18. I was going to an all-girls Catholic college, and one morning — a particularly chilly late-autumn morning in Massachusetts — I looked up at the chapel, and I couldn’t feel him. He was gone. It took a bit of adjusting. For 18 years I’d believed in him. To just stop, well, it was jarring.
I’ve seen lots of resources online for dealing with poor labor care, lack of support, and unwanted interventions during childbirth, but none of those resources deal talk about labors and births that were just bad on their own. I had a precipate labor — which means from start to finish, the entire process took less than three hours and the baby was expelled quickly. My labor and delivery included falling down the stairs, choking in the car, having to consent to an epidural, barely getting it in time, etc (among other delights).
Thanks to my son, I’ve now got a better understanding of who I am and why I should be proud of it. You won’t hear me tell my boys that I’m fat, or unhappy with my body because I’ve truly learned the value of self image. I still watch what I eat and exercise, but it’s not to change my physical self. It’s to stay fit and healthy so I can keep up with these boys.