7 Going on 17

D and me are having such a good week. We're both off work, and we're both catching up on some much needed and deserved rest, and we're both working on renovating. Well, D is more than I am... she loves doing it, and I think it's kinda cool that I have a woman who is willing to try anything DIY related. She's talented :-)

On Christmas day, when we were over at my brother's house, his just-7-year-old and oldest of 4 kids ran off upstairs after losing it on her brother. My brother and wife are at the end of their rope with her, and it totally makes me sad to see. I can't imagine having 4 kids seven and under, and they're doing the best job they can, but along came a boy as number 3, and he is a tough kid to try to keep in check.

He is a sweet little thing, but as you can imagine, it's tough to be heard when you're living in a family of 6. He's got this endearing and absolutely relentless gruff little voice, which is all you can hear over dinner. The oldest, T, has always been a really good kid, but this year has started to act out. But so would I, if I was her... actually, I was her...

Though I don't know what it is like to be the oldest, I do know what it's like to have a brother who "ruins your life". My middle brother was horrible to me, and I endured years of pretty brutal "bugging" (reads full-on BULLYING, in retrospect). I've been locked in tuba cases (hence an intense fear of elevators). I've been pinned down and farted on with spread cheeks (lovely). I've been pinched and punched and scraped and treated like shit. He's an amazing man now, but he was quite a brutal older brother. If I complained about him, my parents would say one thing: "Just ignore him". That's all I was ever told...

And that's what T is being told to do. "Just ignore him." Your brother who, after you spend three hours setting up your Playmobile school, comes in and knocks it down with one speedy lap from Lightning McQueen. Your brother, who interrupts every one of your stories with his screams for attention. Your brother, who you have to come home from school right away to babysit because your mom is hard-up for help, is a tough kid to have in your life. At seven, you should be able to play, play, play. At seven, you shouldn't need to get grounded for not coming home after school because you wanted some time to yourself before starting your chores with the three younger kids...

It's really sad. My brother and his wife are doing the best they can, but this poor little chicky is stuck in this fucked-up world somewhere between playing with dolls or singing to Justin Beiber posters and having to look after a 7-month-old while her mom dashes out to get groceries.

On Christmas day, when I followed her up to her room, we had a chat about brothers. They can suck. I know - I had two. She just kept saying how frustrated she gets with him, and how her dad just tells her to "just ignore him"... and I had my little flashback. We had a heart to heart, and then I realized: this kid needs some serious alone time, with a hell of a lot of unconditional love.

So D and I took her on a date yesterday. We picked her up, took her out for pizza, went to see Megamind, then out for dessert and back home. She had an absolute blast, and it was amazing to see how excited she got (while totally trying to play it cool). D and I made a deal that, no matter how benign the conversation, we would not repeat anything she said to any member of her family, so that she can always trust us not to say anything. Obviously that goes within reason - if something drastic is said, we take it as it comes.

We had such an amazing time, and it made me realize that, although we are really active aunties, we spend time with the family as a unit - or at least the older girls together, but very rarely do we just hang out with one of them. It's so important. This kid, who thrives in everything she does, is so unhappy at home right now, and just needs some time to chill out and talk without having to talk over anyone.

I can't even imagine that household when all four kids are teenagers . D and I have already had numerous conversations at the large possibility that one of these four kids will live with us at some point in their childhood/adolescent lives, and we're okay with that. Every child should have a safe haven, and I'd be honoured if our home were to act as one for any child.

I'm a really lucky aunt.

Does this improve on silence?

I've been uninspired to write, feeling as though I have nothing to add to the blogosphere's conversation, especially when it comes to TTC or gay parenting or anything remotely associated with this blog title. It was funny too, with the timing: H2 commented on one of my posts, and because I was not familiar with the name, I clicked on her blogger profile and read her "About Me" and it is just a simple quote, which just took me in... one of those times where it felt like it was meant just for me. A quote from Sai Baba:

"Before you speak, ask yourself, is it kind, is it necessary, is it true, does it improve on the silence?"

I was going to write just to write until I read that, and thought, "no, this really doesn't improve on the silence". And though I know it's writing and not speaking, I still feel like this is a place where I have a voice, regardless of how many people are here to "see" me speak. But I do feel that what I put on these pages count. Or should. Or, I don't know.

Christmas was great. D and I had a fabulous morning together spoiling each other, and then headed to my brother's for Christmas dinner with his wife and four kids, who we adore. [side note: I'm going to rename "D" and perhaps give myself and other "players" in my life a pseudonym, as it's more personal. Plus, I *love* Insert Metaphor's cast of characters...]

We had lots of laughs and lots of great feedback from the gifts we got the kids this year ~ I have to say, we are pretty amazing aunties when it comes to this kind of stuff... especially when our 5 year old niece says that the only thing she wants this year is a Jasmine Barbie, but guess what? There is no Jasmine Barbie in Canada. D even went to Washington State to see whether we could pick up a Jasmine Barbie, but she only comes in the Disney Princess Collection. Long story short: we got a Jasmine Barbie from the storage room at the Disney store from Disney World itself! (We didn't go all the way there, but fate had it that a Santa-like person just happened to be there at the right moment). Anyway, we spoiled the kids without breaking the bank.

Besides Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Boxing Day, we don't really have many plans this season, which is good... I'm catching up on many months of under-sleeping, and especially as I'm weaning off the anti-anxieties (still no problems, knock on wood), this time is really important to me to just be good to myself, and my partner, and although we have an apartment to renovate, our selves need to revamp.

It seems like this year went extra fast, which is good. It's actually been a flippin' horrible year, and though we are doing well now, and have been for some months, I would not want to go through anything remotely close to what we've/I've been through this year.

I have high hopes for 2011. I really do. I'm hopeful for the conversation that D and I will be having soon about family. I hope that she still wants to do this. I've been really respectful and have followed through on my promise to let the subject go for three months. But January is coming up, and though I'm not going to jump on D at 12:01 a.m. on January 1st, I'm looking forward to starting up a conversation that I hope sets up the rest of the year.

In my head, she says yes and we run out the door to the fertility clinic. In reality, we have some things to think through: I am currently in a job that ends this summer, and I need to find a permanent job in order to put in my hours before I take maternity leave or even start fertility treatments. I need medical coverage, which I have now, but D doesn't, so when this job ends, that's a top priority (though anything to do with reproductive "help" is unfortunately not easily covered). We are moving in the summer, hopefully, back to the city and out of Suburbia, which, although has done us some good, has mostly made us realize that our lives and our hearts are in the city. That damn, ridiculously expensive and beautiful city...

My health too. I will be off my anti-anxieties faster than I'd originally thought, if things continue to go smoothly. But there is more tweaking to do. My chronic pain issues are SO close to being gone (yay!) but I still have a little bit more to go there too.

And I'm not forgetting my wonderful partner. I have no idea what, if anything, she envisions when she thinks of our journey towards making a family. I respect that she is most likely not as eager as I am, and that's okay. I've been spilling out fears and hopes here, and she - for all I know - really did take a full 3 month hiatus from even thinking about babies. And that's okay. That was the point, right?

I'm getting antsy, yes. I just want to know. I'm a planner. I'm a dreamer. I'm a worst-case-scenario kind of person, so any answer can help me move on. I look forward to the conversation, and I trust that it will happen organically. I don't want to push. I don't want to harp. I want D to want to talk about this. I just have to remind myself that she is not me, and she will not, understandably, be on the same page as me... but this time, I'm hoping for at least the same book.

I trust that next year will be "our" year. We are going into it in a healthy place, and I do have faith that, whatever is in the cards, is the right thing for both of us. In the meantime, I will breathe.

Gotta remember to breathe.

                 [photo credit]

Trick or Treat

This year on Halloween night, D and I will be taking our nephews and nieces trick or treating... it's one of my favourite days of the year. Not only do I get to take my amazing little ones out, but I too get to go in costume - without even dressing up - I get to pretend that I'm their mom.

[photo credit]

People open their doors to my polite and adorable nieces and nephews, who look up at them with their  excited smiles, take their gifts and thank them profusely, and I stand back and hold a position of "oh yeah, they're mine" intense sense of pride. It's one of the best feelings in the world.

Probably not the healthiest thing, but fuck it - I may never get to take my own kid out, and the pride I hold knowing that these kids share just even a smidgen of their blood with me makes me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

I may not be a mom right now, and I may not be a mom for a while, who knows. And then there is the other possibility, but I'm not going to write that today.  So, we all need to dress up some time, put on a mask and as adults, we really just have this one day a year where it's acceptable, so yeah - they will be my kids on Sunday. Their smiles, their eyes, their manners, their excitement, their energy, their love... it all comes from me.

Except if they misbehave ;-)

Babies and Boys

I've become an aunt for the fifth time this week. I'm incredibly blessed, and love my nieces and nephews more than I ever thought possible.

Everyone is healthy and happy, and just thrilled with the new life - in all of my siblings' households... and though I feel lucky to have what I have, I don't have a baby for myself. Yet. And I don't even know when the last time D and I had a real conversation about it. We have a doctor's appointment this month, which is "the one" that makes or breaks our (my?) fate, which I've already rescheduled once and am looking forward to it in the most hesitant way possible.

The year is almost half up, and I feel as though it's just rushed by. And we haven't done much at all in our journey to parenthood. And we're only getting older. And it's scary. I've watched a niece and nephew born this year, and my siblings couldn't be happier, and I am jealous, a little guarded, and feeling like this is going far too slowly for my liking.

My best gay boy friends just moved away out of the city, and D and I (and the 4 of us) have joked about them being a donor - and we mean them... like have them jack-off into the same cup, swirl it around and pump it up inside, and then figure out who the father is when the kid ends up looking like whichever one of him.

It's become a running joke, but just before they left, I reminded one of them about it (we'd talked about it years ago), and he actually got a little sad that I freaked out and said "just kidding;" he said that he would be honoured. Seriously. And I almost took him in the back room to do it "old school". Am I that desperate? Perhaps...

But I wait - we wait - and find out what will be the best option for us. Do we get on an adoption registry before we figure it out? Before I deal with my issues around adoption? Before I give up my hope of carrying my own child?

As for donors, it would be nice and cheap to have best friends to do it, though there are so many layers to that. That said, there are layers to all pieces of this puzzle... and it's beginning to feel as though these pieces aren't fitting together right.

Perhaps it's a bit of unhappiness in other areas that is seeping through (work, money). Perhaps it's jealousy that I see all of my siblings with nice robust families. Perhaps it's because I'm losing my favourite fags to their more interesting life. Perhaps it's just the time of year. Spring... everything is growing new life. Even the orchid that I almost threw out over the winter because it hadn't blossomed in months. And now it's got two sprigs; twin growths.

I love looking through the extended families albums at all the smiles and facial expressions of older brothers and sisters seeing their new sibling for the first time - that pure, unobstructed love and... probably a little bit of fear...

Probably very similar to what I'm feeling now.