Verbatim.
(some illustrations by Mommy.)
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Prepare for Man-to-Man coverage
Today, he is pushing a wheeled toy, on carpeting and hardwood. Tomorrow, he and Asa are running in opposite directions.
Yikes.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Playing with one's food: joy edition
Elias generally prefers to self-feed now; spoon feeding is not nearly good enough.
So Elias plus squash = interesting mess.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Birthday Bug
So Elias' birthday was not all sweetness and light and presents and wrapping paper.
Rather, it was a high temperature and a nasty cough that landed us in the Emergency Room late in the evening.
We went through this once with Asa, and have the nebulizer routine down to a science, but this was Elias' first go, which made it a little nerve-wracking. But our boy was a champ, charming patients and nurses alike, giggling and clapping and making faces.
Having arrived at the ER around bedtime, the happiness didn't last the entire time. And Elias, who has long been reluctant to sleep anywhere but his crib or carseat, finally consented to sleep in Mummy's arms, and then (as my arm fell asleep), on my chest. Much as he had done exactly one year earlier, although he was a lot smaller - and lighter - then.
Everyone is home now, the medications are being given, our smiling boy is smiling again, and should be recovered in plenty of time for his birthday party on Saturday.
At which I'm sure he'll get presents; this time, though, I'll make sure none of them is pneumonia.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
525,600 Minutes
This year went way too fast.
Not surprisingly, of course, because of everything that happened. First there was this:
Five days later came the call from the Search Committee of the church, moving that process forward. And, inevitably, moving us to New Hampshire. New job, new house, new school for Asa, new church (for all, but especially Mummy)... an ordination, a baptism, a birthday...
A year.
Elias has been the least affected by this transition. This year, as crazy as it's been, is all he's known, and he's just lived each moment joyfully. He laughs and crawls and sits and chews and claps and laughs some more. Lucky us.
For the rest of us, it's been a hectic year, skewing our sense of time and growth - the dearth of blog posts being a prime example. So how do we measure, from one picture to the other?
In love.*
Which for you, little Elias, is exponential.
*in case you missed it: the title and response to this post are from the song "Seasons of Love", from the musical Rent.
Not surprisingly, of course, because of everything that happened. First there was this:
Five days later came the call from the Search Committee of the church, moving that process forward. And, inevitably, moving us to New Hampshire. New job, new house, new school for Asa, new church (for all, but especially Mummy)... an ordination, a baptism, a birthday...
A year.
Elias has been the least affected by this transition. This year, as crazy as it's been, is all he's known, and he's just lived each moment joyfully. He laughs and crawls and sits and chews and claps and laughs some more. Lucky us.
For the rest of us, it's been a hectic year, skewing our sense of time and growth - the dearth of blog posts being a prime example. So how do we measure, from one picture to the other?
In love.*
Which for you, little Elias, is exponential.
*in case you missed it: the title and response to this post are from the song "Seasons of Love", from the musical Rent.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Thankful
The 2008 election seems a long time ago.
It was before Asa was born. A lifetime ago.
It was an exciting, an exhilarating time for us, but it was also a time of grief. As wonderful as the legislative election was that year, in our view, that was also the election that brought us Prop 8 - a law that had no direct impact upon us, but that sent a tremendous shockwave throughout the LGBT community. We were pretty used to having marriage equality fail at the polls, but to have an existing law repealed - to send thousands of couples into limbo - was horrifying.
What a long way we've come.
This election was huge in our house. Living in a swing state might have had something to do with that, but given everything that was at stake this year, it probably didn't change all that much for us.
And like all kids, Asa picked up on the vibe. More than that, he picked up on a lot of details, although we tried to shield him from some of the unpleasantness - some of the downright meanness - that an election year can bring out. We talked about the President, we talked about the importance of voting, we talked about disagreeing without becoming unpleasant. The morning after the election - with circles under our eyes and much less sleep than we'd have liked - we shared our delight in the outcome: legislative elections that weren't quite as spectacular as 2008, but the first ever victories for marriage equality at the polls - in four states.
So it wasn't surprising that at dinner the next night, Asa announced his plans to paint a picture for the President. He'd paint a picture of the President's family, he decided - one that he could show to his mommies. (A heartbreaking statement on more than one level, that one.) We were delighted, and encouraged him - M. promised to get out real canvas and good paint. And then Asa thought for a moment, and said:
"I'm going to paint a picture for Mitt Womney, too."
I'm not proud of this moment, but it had been a long election season and I was tired; the first words out of my mouth were, "But honey, he lost."
"I know, Mummy. But it might make him feel better."
Nothing like having your kid make you feel like a jerk.
Mitt Romney said a lot of things during the election that I found offensive. His statements on women, his backpedaling on healthcare, his choices of surrogates were almost uniformly off-putting. On LGBT issues, he was entirely uninformed. (Yes, Governor, we do have families. We do have children.) I had been so horrified by his politics, by the strange chameleon nature of his campaign, that I could no longer imagine doing this man a kindness. Politics had trumped humanity, as too easily happens.
Asa understood it differently. He knows what it is to win, and what it is to lose. He has felt both, and can empathize. And in his loving, unbiased way, he tries to do what he can to make things better.
This year, I am thankful for many things. For a renewed faith in our political system and our country's values; for the growing recognition of my relationship and our family.
But mostly, I am thankful for my children, who are better people than I am.
It was before Asa was born. A lifetime ago.
It was an exciting, an exhilarating time for us, but it was also a time of grief. As wonderful as the legislative election was that year, in our view, that was also the election that brought us Prop 8 - a law that had no direct impact upon us, but that sent a tremendous shockwave throughout the LGBT community. We were pretty used to having marriage equality fail at the polls, but to have an existing law repealed - to send thousands of couples into limbo - was horrifying.
What a long way we've come.
This election was huge in our house. Living in a swing state might have had something to do with that, but given everything that was at stake this year, it probably didn't change all that much for us.
And like all kids, Asa picked up on the vibe. More than that, he picked up on a lot of details, although we tried to shield him from some of the unpleasantness - some of the downright meanness - that an election year can bring out. We talked about the President, we talked about the importance of voting, we talked about disagreeing without becoming unpleasant. The morning after the election - with circles under our eyes and much less sleep than we'd have liked - we shared our delight in the outcome: legislative elections that weren't quite as spectacular as 2008, but the first ever victories for marriage equality at the polls - in four states.
So it wasn't surprising that at dinner the next night, Asa announced his plans to paint a picture for the President. He'd paint a picture of the President's family, he decided - one that he could show to his mommies. (A heartbreaking statement on more than one level, that one.) We were delighted, and encouraged him - M. promised to get out real canvas and good paint. And then Asa thought for a moment, and said:
"I'm going to paint a picture for Mitt Womney, too."
I'm not proud of this moment, but it had been a long election season and I was tired; the first words out of my mouth were, "But honey, he lost."
"I know, Mummy. But it might make him feel better."
Nothing like having your kid make you feel like a jerk.
Mitt Romney said a lot of things during the election that I found offensive. His statements on women, his backpedaling on healthcare, his choices of surrogates were almost uniformly off-putting. On LGBT issues, he was entirely uninformed. (Yes, Governor, we do have families. We do have children.) I had been so horrified by his politics, by the strange chameleon nature of his campaign, that I could no longer imagine doing this man a kindness. Politics had trumped humanity, as too easily happens.
Asa understood it differently. He knows what it is to win, and what it is to lose. He has felt both, and can empathize. And in his loving, unbiased way, he tries to do what he can to make things better.
This year, I am thankful for many things. For a renewed faith in our political system and our country's values; for the growing recognition of my relationship and our family.
But mostly, I am thankful for my children, who are better people than I am.
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