Why I live (and love) where I live.

I live in Vermont. But I am from California. I feel Californian. It's in me, part of who I am. Raised in the Central San Joaquin Valley and with parents still there, I think of that as truly home, but I've also lived in Southern CA, Northern CA and the Eastern Sierra. I know California towns, highways, and geography like the back of my hand. I miss really great Mexican food, fresh local produce year round, and the Sierras. Most of my family lives in California. I am frequently homesick, but at this moment in history I can't imagine leaving Vermont to live anywhere else, except maybe Canada. Here's why:

• Education. Vermont consistently ranks the highest among student achievement. I can vouch for this with my personal experience. As a teacher in CA I had about 32 students in each class and the only time another adult was in the room was to do an evaluation on me. In VT, there was a day where I realized that there were 5 adults available to work with 17 kindergarteners during their math block. I've seen for myself that students are prioritized and their individual needs met more in VT than in CA. In addition, we have a variety of educational options for our son, including more nature-based preschools. 
• Health Care. Vermont is about to go single-payer. It could take as long as until 2017, but I hope not. Already VT has very progressive policies helping people to have health insurance. VT wants kids to be insured. Dawn will soon have a decent salary, but C will qualify to remain on state insurance because his condition is very expensive. He has received 4 $200,000 IVIG infusions. So while I call him my million dollar baby, it's actually closer to two million. Parents shouldn't go into foreclosure trying to pay their child's expensive deductibles and co-pays.
• Gay Rights. Vermont was the first state to have civil unions. As of this writing 16 states, plus D.C. recognize same-sex marriage. It will only be a few more years before it's the law of the land in all 50 states, but for now it's good to be sure that we have all the legal benefits available to us. 
• Gay Visibility. I was thinking the other day about all of the gay organizations in town. And well, to tell the truth I can only think of one (besides softball and hockey). But that's because gay people are running everything else around here! From the Women's Freedom Center to local theater, schools, farms, and healthcare our LGBT peeps are everywhere. 
• Quality of Life. In nearly every measure Vermont consistently ranks near the top for positive quality-of-life measures.
• Efficiency. VT's small size makes the government more efficient. When Dawn needed her VT nursing license she went to the Vermont Board of Nursing, where there were two old ladies working there, who got it done for her in a matter of minutes. When we needed new driver's licenses we both got it done in less than 20 minutes with a toddler wreaking havoc all over the place. Getting my VT teaching credential was relatively easy with a CA credential.

As you can see Vermont's social and economic policies make it difficult for me to imagine living anywhere else.

The thing about in-laws

I have difficult in-laws. My f-i-l is best described as an extreme narcissist with borderline personality tendencies. He demands that he always get his way. He is controlling and abusive. M-i-l is a passive enabler. My wife lives in constant conflict over how to handle them. She really has no desire to have her father in her life in any way, but does not feel the same way about her mother. About half a year ago wife began a conversation in which she made clear that she was not going to ignore the abuse that she suffered. She was no longer going to pretend that things that happened never happened. Knowing my f-i-l as I do and seeing patterns in human nature I can see that my in-laws try to displace their anger and negative feelings away from their daughter and direct it toward me. When children come out parents frequently blame the significant other for "making their child gay." It's easier to deal with their own emotions that way. This is exactly what the in-laws do, except that my wife was already out and had even been married before. Still, whatever negative emotions in-laws feel about not being able to control their daughter they take out on me.

I hear (mostly from my wife's sister) of nasty, mean things that my in-laws say about me and my family. I've written before about his "just the real family" comment that was clearly intended to exclude me. The most recent (and entirely false) information is that we bought our house from someone in my family and we were bullied into it. Nothing could be further from the truth. We bought our house from a couple of old dykes and if we had asked for advice from my family, I'm sure they would have told us not to buy a house or at least to wait a little longer, until we had more savings. F-i-l actually did a whole bunch of dicking us around right around the time that we were signing escrow. My family was nothing but helpful and supportive. The irony of hearing them call my family bullies when it is they who have performed the entirety of the bullying is entirely maddening.

It's a difficult thing to let my in-laws direct all their anger and frustration toward me. I don't like being their punching bag and letting shit slide isn't my style. I'm considering sending an email to m-i-l, but don't know what I am really trying to achieve.

Terrible Twos

Almost three months past his 2nd birthday it's clear that Mr. C has entered the terrible twos. He's defiant, screaming if he doesn't get to bring the toy he wants (sorry, dump truck is too big for the car) or go where he wants (it's usually to the sandbox out back, especially when I'm trying to keep him clean). If he was talking he would be saying "NO." He shakes his head and pouts, that is when not yelling or whining.

I've been thinking lately about how C's hyperinsulinism affects my parenting. A couple of times C has gotten himself so worked up that he vomited. We were lucky that when that happened his sugar didn't drop too much and we were able to bolus him soon after without further emesis. We try to keep him from vomiting at all costs. This means me being a huge pushover instead of the rule enforcer I was born to be. C gets to eat whatever he wants. Anything to keep the sugar up. Jelly beans for dinner? Why not. I've become experienced with the art of distraction. "Look, Calvin a SCHOOL BUS!" If not for hyperinsulinism I would let my child eat what I made for meals and healthy/occasional semi-healthy snacks. He could cry and scream all he wanted, but that wouldn't get the ipad in bed with him. I give in to most of his demands. I worry about how this will affect him.

Speaking of ipad...C has lots of fun toddler apps, but he's also figured out netflix. I'll put on Dinosaur Train or Bob the Builder, themes which C loves in other situations, but he frequently changes it to Barney. Dawn and I are both distressed by this. As much as I can't stand Barney (well actually, I have to admit to the tiniest of soft spots due to a Barney stripper at Beth Phillip's bachelorette party in 1997) he is still preferable to a room full of vomit and a midnight trip to the ER.

Poop on my hands

So far I have refrained from discussing B.M.s on the blog. Not anymore. When it comes to poop we have gotten pretty lucky. Calvin hasn't really had too many blowouts. He's never covered his stroller or car seat in feces. There's never been a huge accident in bed, aside from urine. I can't even remember Calvin ruining an outfit with poop. This is in stark contrast to stories I hear from other parents. One of my favorite baby poop stories is of my uncle trying to change my cousin's huge poopy diaper on the tray table on an airplane. Apparently the recirculated air bothered the Oakland Raiders that my uncle happened to be flying with.

As lucky as we've been with baby poo, when we began doing food boluses we noticed a change. There was suddenly a lot more of it and it was looser and wetter. Today was his worst yet. I first noticed it on the chair he was sitting in. Then on the back of his pjs. It was the kind of poop that necessitates a bath, the kind that lead to an extra load of laundry, half empty bags of trash being taken out, and cleaning of furniture. I picked him up under the arms and using all the strength I could muster, carried him up the stairs while still holding him as far away from my own body as possible. The gag reflex would have been activated for many. I measure how messy a b.m. is by how many wipes it takes to clean it up. An average poop for Mr. C is about a 4 wipe poop. I used 10 wipes on his body pre bath. I didn't count how many I used on the furniture. We are lucky it happened at home. If this poo had happened out in public...well, that's the kind of stuff that legends are made of.

To out or not?

I may not appear an obvious lesbian, but if you talk to me I will out myself within 5 minutes. It's usually because of the important role that my wife plays in my life. There are some instances, however, in which coming out just seems a lot more trouble than it's worth. These are always brief exchanges with strangers, who make assumptions. Today, for instance, at the post office a woman commenting on Calvin's size asked if my husband was a large man. I responded in the affirmative because the sperm donor is 6'2". I feel completely comfortable avoiding the truth in these situations. I'm not denying myself or ashamed of being gay, I just didn't feel like getting into it. The thing is that soon Calvin is going to start to understand. What is he going to think? Will he think I'm ashamed of our family? What message will he internalize by watching these interactions? The idea of having to explain our lives to everyone who makes a mistaken assumption is exhausting and intimidating, but I would never want Calvin to think for a second that I am anything other than 100% proud of us. On the flip side, I also want him to learn that he doesn't have to volunteer any information that he doesn't want to and that he shouldn't give out a lot of personal information to strangers. I hope that when the time comes I will know what to do and how to explain it to him.

C-scare

I've been waiting for weeks to write this blog entry. Sometimes it seems like my family can't catch a break. During Calvin's CHOP hospital stay, last fall, my Crohn's disease steadily made its presence more known. Even before the seizure I knew that I was within the window of time that I could expect to need a bowel resection. During the hospital stay I came to realize that the sooner the better. So I had the resection a month and a half after returning home. At the same time my wife discovered a malignant melanoma. She nearly canceled her dermatology appointment because of the difficulty of getting there when CHOP felt like our permanent residence. The dermatologist didn't think it was anything, but malignant it turned out to be. After having the area excised it was difficult waiting for the pathology report. Waiting really sucks, but it was good news. The edges were clean! It was stage one and hadn't spread.

Fast forward 6 months and a lymph node in her armpit is extremely swollen. She reported it being sore beforehand, but it seemed to have multiplied in size overnight. It was a couple weeks before she could be seen by student health and then another week before she could be seen by the surgeon. Waiting is miserable. For someone who already deals with enough anxiety in my life these few weeks were especially bad. Some of the signs should have been reassuring to us. Cancer generally doesn't get so big so fast and Dawn's labwork looked great. It is her family history, however, that is so frightening. Her mother is one of 5 girls, 4 of whom have had this particular type of cancer. Her youngest sister died from it. She had a melanoma removed from her leg and was told the edges were clean. Six months later a lymph node in her groin was noticeably swollen and shortly after that she passed. The similarities were frightening.

One week ago today we met Dawn's surgeon (I guess it's more accurage to say that I met her and she became reacquainted with Dawn, having not recognized her from doing anesthesia in her operating room). She was great, however, she wanted to put Dawn on the surgical schedule for the 22. That was a day short of 2 weeks from the appointment. If we were going to wait that long I thought I would lose my shit. I really did. Somehow Dawn got on the schedule for the next day. Surgery went well and the goofiest resident I have ever met came to tell me that "cyst-like fluid came out." I've never been so happy about a cyst before. I felt like so much anxiety lifted that immediately a 2 day headache set in. I wanted to share the good news immediately, but thought I should wait until we have official pathology reports. As of yesterday we have those reports. Good news, it was a benign cyst!

It feels hard to concentrate on this experience given the events of yesterday in Boston. I am so glad that my cousins are ok, but I've been reading about the Richard family. Father was running in the marathon, 8 year old son died from the blast, daughter lost a leg, and wife suffered a brain injury. I hurt for their family and so many others, but I realize my family has, in fact, caught a break.

Bully

Today I watched Bully. I wanted to see it in the theatre when it was first released, but with a toddler going out to the movies is something that just doesn't happen anymore. Going into it I was expecting to watch this documentary from a teacher and activist perspective. After all, I spent much of the 2011-2012 school year visiting Brattleboro schools, talking and exchanging emails with teachers about LGBT issues in school. Instead, I watched the movie as a parent. And I cried throughout, not just cried, I sobbed.

In one exchange our hero, Alex, is sitting in the office of an administrator who promises to do something about the bullying that he is experiencing on the bus. She asks him if he believes that she will do something. IT IS A LOADED QUESTION. She doesn't want to know what he really thinks. She prompts him with other questions until she gets the answer she wants. It's one of the worst examples of an administrator not listening to a student. As I watched the interaction I realized how commonplace conversations like this are. It made me realize how I can't wait for my kid to start talking, so I can listen.

A few weeks ago I wrote a post on a parenting forum defending public schools. As I watched Bully I wasn't at all surprised by actions and attitudes of the administrators, but saddened. I realized what conflicting and contradictory opinions I hold. On the one hand I absolutely know that everything this movie shows is only the tip of the iceberg. On the other, I believe in free public education. I believe that all children deserve a "free and appropriate" education. I believe that public schools are the places where neighborhoods coalesce, where children learn how to interact with people different from themselves, where communities unite. I'm still working out how to sit with these conflicting ideas.

In early 2010 I was substituting for a high school teacher. I was actually in the middle of a long term sub job at an elementary school, but being short subs that day I was pulled to the high school. Maybe it was for a reason. It just happened to be diversity day. Along with about 100 high school teachers and maybe 15 or so staff I watched a presentation that included a great deal of audience participation. The topic was bullying and the question was put to the students of how to stop it. Many of the students' comments echoed the sentiment that bullied children need to learn to stand up for themselves (this theme was echoed in the movie by a child's parent). It was nerve wracking, but I stood up in front of all these teenagers and adults, basically a stranger to everyone, and said the following:

Imagine an abused kid. Someone who's parents don't support them, don't tell them they love them, don't make them feel important. Someone who is basically taught that they are worthless from the people who are supposed to love them the most. Imagine the lessons that this kid has learned at home. Now imagine this kid out in the world. How are they supposed to stand up for themselves? It's easier to do when you believe that you are loved and important. What about someone who never learned that? And the thing is that these kids are frequently the target. It's exactly because of the differences in that kid's life that they are targeted for bullying."

This story is anti-climactic. After I said my piece I sat down, nervous and sweating. There was a pause before the next person spoke, but the assembly went on. I don't remember much more of it, but I hope that something I did that day made a difference. Perhaps I expanded a few kids' minds that day. I hope so. I'm going to go hug my own kid now.