About That Cat

While we were in Texas, I talked about the cat that Anonydaddy and his brother (allegedly) tricked Anonymama into adopting.

I also posted a video of said kitty helping Shrike to settle Peeper during a crying fit.

Oh, but that's not the end of the cat stories!

---

After Anonyuncle left, "WhiteCat" (one of several names they went through before finally settling on one) spent a big chunk of the day in Anonymama's lap, consoling her as she watched the Cowboys/Eagles game that she'd Tivoed the day before.

Peeper was already in her lap, but he's obviously used to babies, because he snugged right up to her. Actually, he tried to "make bread" on her, but since he has claws, we didn't allow that.

At one point, I looked over, and they were holding hands - his paw was right on top of her hand - but, of course, they'd moved by the time I got back with the camera.

Then their FirstKitty saw him sitting on her mother, and ooohhh, she did not like that at all.

She yowled at him, and when he didn't leave, she took a step toward him and yowled again.

(That's when I removed Peeper from the scene. I wasn't too keen on my mother maybe ending up in the middle of a cat fight, but I damn sure wasn't going to let my baby stick around for it!)

Still no reaction (he's deaf, remember).

Stalk.

Yowl.

Nothing.

Stalk.

Yowl!

Nothing.

Stalk.

Yowl?

(I swear, there was a question mark on the end of it.)

Until she was literally right behind his head, and he'd still not twitched a whisker.

Finally, we think she actually touched him, and he turned around as if to say, "Oh, were you talking to me?"

She walked away, defeated.

---

Every time the cats started yowling, I'd think, "Oh! Is that Peeper?!" even if she was in my arms at the time.

The similarity of their cries was not "all in my head" though. . . .

One day, I was thinking "Hmm, I hope Peeper wakes up to nurse soon. Wait, it's not been that long, why am I feeling so. . . ? Oooohhh!" and realized that the cats sounded SO baby-like that they were triggering my milk let-down!

How crazy is that?

I said to Anonymama, "If neither of those cats plans on getting goody, they'd better stop making those sounds!"

Of course, she reminded me that they have sandpaper tongues and one has claws and I wanted no parts of that!

---

WhiteCat had an appointment with the vet on Tuesday for vaccinations and removal of various offending appendages (claws, testicles). That evening, I received an email from Anonymama:

When WhiteCat went to the vet for his operations, the vet discovered that he had
a diaphragmatic hernia and had most of his innards up in his chest.

He was sure that he had been hit by a car in the past. Said not much else would to that.

After much thought and discussion, we decided to go ahead and have the surgery to repair the hernia and move stuff where it belongs.

That was done yesterday and he is doing well. Will go back in 3 or 4 weeks to do the other surgeries.

He has become one very expensive cat. And I did not want another cat, but once he was ours for a few days, what could we do? The other choice was to put him down as the condition was going to get him before long.

I guess we are just suckers for our cats.

Suckers who now own one very lucky cat.

Some/Thing New

For several months now, of course, we've been trying pretty hard around here to create something someone new, and to embark on a whole new chapter in this adventure that is our lives.

Of course, I can't wait til we're actually pregnant and, more so, til we actually have a baby, rather than just thinking and talking and planning about it but, still, the idea of it actually happening is rather, shall we say, daunting.

It's easy to get caught up in the pursuit of the baby, and to not think about the reality of the baby . . . and the toddler . . . and the child . . . and the teenager . . . but when I do stop to think about that, sometimes I'm just, well, I think "terrified" would be the most accurate term.

As much as I want this - as much as I've always wanted this - I still, at times, want to say "You know what, let's just wait a little longer . . . ."

But, of course, as I was reminded last week, that's not really an option at this point.

And, I do think we're ready. I mean, as much as anyone can be ready for something so completely life-changing.

But still . . . New. Change. Scaaaarrrr-eee.

I am comforted (I think) by something that Anonymama once said about getting married, but that I think applies even more so to having children:

You're supposed to be scared. If you're not scared, you obviously don't understand the seriousness of what you're doing.

Wordless Wednesday #39: "A Little Something To Open"

The brown-paper-packages-tied-up-with-strings are our Christmas gifts from LadyKay and her kiddos, and the rest are "a little something to open" from Anonymama and Anonydaddy.

(In addition to our real gift, which is the big-ass check they'll be sending in a couple of weeks, with which we are going to make a human).

I'm doing my best to resist peeking!


Learn more about Wordless Wednesday.

The Next Step

After talking with a financial person at our RE's clinic, I realized that the whole insurance appeal is to get coverage for the IUIs that we've already done, based on the fact that they never told us there was a limit of three.

We might get them to pay for that, but there's no way they'll cover any future IUIs.

Based on that, we've decided that if we don't get some good news from my beta on Friday, we will be moving on to IVF.

"But, wait" you say. "I thought IVF was going to be prohibitively expensive?"

Well, yeah, it was going to be, but my parents have offered to cover a significant portion of the costs, leaving us with a quite doable amount to pay ourselves.

They'd said, a couple of times over the past few weeks, that they would help "big time" if we had to go to IVF, but I had no idea until last night just how much they had in mind.

With that part worked out, I made some calls today, to the donor IVF nurse and financial coordinator, trying to sort out the rest of the details. I got a bit more information, but I think I may have come away with more questions than answers. They are both working on getting us more information.

I've also asked Nurse E to check with Dr E on whether there is a possibility of getting approved for shared risk using my eggs, because that would be about half the cost.

I don't have a lot of hope for that, though, so we're expecting to go forward with using Shrike's eggs.

I'm trying to get things lined up to go right into the mock cycle if things don't turn out as we hope this cycle, but I don't know if I'll be able to.

Right now, we're trying to find out what kind of insurance coverage Shrike has that might help with her meds and / or testing. If it's good coverage, we might go with the shared risk option that does not include those, and pay them separately.

On the other hand, that money would then not be guaranteed. We'd be out it either way.

But, if even a few cycles would cost significantly less with insurance than the difference in the full versus partial plans, it might be better to go that way.

I'll have to discuss it with my parents, of course, since it will be mostly their money at risk.

There are still a ton of details to work out, and also a ton of things to process personally, including coming more fully to terms with giving up on my own eggs and a genetic connection to our child, but with my parents' offer, it's like a huge weight has been lifted, and suddenly IVF looks possible, rather than some crazy fantasy.

I am still just blown away by their support and their generousity. I have, of course, thanked them, but there is no way that words can ever be sufficient for a gift like this.

We are very, very lucky, indeed.

Comment-o-Rama

As you may have surmised from some recent comments, I finally gave my family the link to this blog.

(Hi, Mom!)

On Saturday, I received an email from my niece (LadyKay's #2 kiddo), who is 20 (Oh my God, that can't possibly be right, can it? People with 20 year old nieces are old!) which included comments about several of my early posts.

Had she commented here on each individual posts no one would see them except new readers who are catching up (as she is).

But, sending it via email, I'm the only one who gets to see them.

And some of them are definitely worth reading.

So, with her permission, here are her comments about my first couple of months of posts.

(The links will take you to the original posts to which she refers.)

Along with a few counter-comments of my own.

Of course.

And, So, It Begins
"...followed her north to a very red area of a fairly blue state."

We should switch places?? 'Cause we're in a blue dot of a fairly red state...

Yeah, we don't like to talk about this, but my sister and her kids are - shudder - Republicans.

"What will I be writing about? Everything. And nothing. And a few things in between."

Oh!! Thank makes so much more sense than "Shrike and Whozat...between." Before I thought maybe you'd turned into a 14 year old... X-P heh.

"...perhaps, the occasional political rant."

You?? Nooooooo...you NEVER talk politics...roflmao

And, as a Republican, she kind of hates it when the Democrats in the family (ie - everyone else) talk politics. Which, I suppose, is understandable.

"...and tend to assume that everyone is just dying to hear exactly what I'm thinking, doing, or obsessing about at the moment."

Really? I hadn't noticed.

"...being a bum currently between assignments,"

Between assignments...gotta remember to call it that. :)

"...I realized that I'm starting to narrate my life in my head, as though I were writing a blog post."

That's just sad.

True enough.


Laissez le Bon Temps Rouler!
"If you can't read the packaging in the photo, let me explain. Ranger, the border collie-ish dog here, is one of several who run a day care. In this playset, Ranger is also operating an ice cream stand. The dog. Is selling ice cream. To be-diapered babies. With pigtails. Well, of course."

W. T. F.
Who the hell came up with THAT idea!? And when is CPS [Child Protective Services] going to check on their kids!?

"If anyone is interested (Bueller?) I'll be happy to post the recipes that I used for the cake, as well as the muffalettas and hurricanes."

I got the good stuff down here... X-P mwahaha


The Thinks I've Thunk: #1
"Food coloring bottles have always reminded me of tiny little men - gnomes, perhaps - wearing pointy, color-coded hats."

AHHHH!! They do!!!!!

"Is that wierd?"

Yes. Very much.


How Not to Cook a Pot Roast
"It seems that when I put the ceramic-put-the-food-in-it part of the crockpot into the metal-gets-hot-and-makes-it-cook part, I caught a bit of the cord between them. As it heated, the insulation on the cord melted and it must have shorted out."

THAT'S WHY YOU DON'T LEAVE THE CROCKPOT ON WHEN YOU LEAVE THE HOUSE YOU NUT BUCKET!!!!!!!!!! But I'm glad you still have a house. :)

That's the whole point of a crockpot, though. To cook dinner while you are gone all day!

A Word About Anonymity
"Hell, if they know my real name, they can just Google it, and all that info will probably come right up, because I've put it out there in about a zillion places, for one reason or another."

You are THE only [Whozat's real name, including hyphenated last name] on the planet. "[Whozat's real name, including hyphenated last name]" with the quotes brought up 676 hits on Google. All you.

"I like the idea of being free to rant about specific people or situations that piss me off, without worrying that the subject will read what I said."

And if they do read it, hell, even if they know it's them you're talking about: as long as you change the names they can't sue you. If you don't change the names they can attempt to sue you for crapping on their character. Then innocent have nothing to fear; all names have been changed to protect the author from the guilty.

Well, I also worry about pissing people off, or hurting their feelings or making it awk-ward when I have to continue to deal with them on a regular basis. But you do make a very good point about the legal issues. Of course, if it's true, it's not slander.

"Also, you've probably earned immunity from my public rants. Unless you really piss me off."

Dun dun dun.


And the Oscar for Most Inane Response Goes To . . . .
About Tammy Etheridge breastfeeding their twins:
"Or is that just what's to be expected of Joan Rivers?"

Yep...sad, isn't it?

"On the other hand, I saw the shots of Tammy in that strapless dress during the ceremony, and I certainly can't argue with Joan's assessment ;-)"

There's a show called Yes, Dear and there's one episode where the mom sneaks and breastfeeds her kid after having said she's going to wean. When the husband finds out about it he confronts her about her lying and says that if she's not ready to deal with that separation then she shouldn't force it and she breaks down and says she doesn't want to wean and loose the wonderful boobs! ROFL.


How To Make a Baby
How to make a baby checklist
1) Go to bar
2) Find willing "donor"
3) Consume alcohol
4) Go to bathroom with "donor"
5) Make baby
6) "Lose" his number

Of course, that's the evil way to make a baby...but it's ahellofvalot cheaper so things even out.

She makes a good point. A little hard to do the genetic screening that way, of course. And Shrike's not so keen on the idea.


Who's Your BabyDaddy?
"We also agreed that the third one (who turned out to not be "ID Consent") was a distant third choice, because we were less than impressed with his academic record and test scores. Is that elitist of us? We were saying "Well, we shouldn't rule him out completely . . . ." but then we kept finding ourselves referring to him as "the dumb guy.""

Yes, because of all the crap Hitler pulled about breeding a master race, we find ourselves feeling guilty about ruling someone out because of certain qualities. But think of it this way: if you were looking for a husband to father your children, would you choose someone who didn't challenge you mentally? No. You wouldn't. He'd have to be at least as smart as you, wouldn't he? Same thing, you're just taking out the insert tab A into slot B part...and the husband part.

"The sperm bank recommends that we choose at least three, since they can't promise that our first choice will be available."

You could always hack into the database, get his home address, knock on his door and say jack off into this cup. We want you.

Don't think we haven't considered it. Of course, if we're at, say a restaurant, and see a cute guy, we often joke about asking for a "to-go cup." Yeah, I know. Ew.

"Our better sides tell us that shouldn't matter and we should only get the adult photos of TheGuy, so that we can show them to the kid, but our shallower sides want to make sure he's cute!"

For the record, I LOVE looking at old pics of my ancestors (however distant or near they may be) at various ages and seeing/comparing them to pics of me at various ages and seeing all the similarities. It's neat.

Yeah, I'm kind of torn between wanting things to work out with BowTie, since we like him best, and hoping for Popeye, since we have more photos for him.


It Occurs to Me . . .
"That I've formatted our "donor wish list" in exactly the same way as the ingredients lists for the recipes I've posted. Is that wrong?"

I don't know about wrong but it is creepy as hell.


Our Other "Kids"
"How will you keep BigGaloot from eating the baby?"

Yeah, if only there were some piece of furniture that you could put the baby in where the dog couldn't get them...maybe something with bars and a soft pad for baby to sleep on...hrm...if only.

Touche' - But, note that this is coming from a person whom I'm not sure has ever seen the inside of a crib. My sis was an attachment parent before attachment parenting was cool.

Google Cooking: Chicken, Pineapple, Rice
"Googling "Chicken, Pineapple, Rice" (I think) gave me a recipe for Chicken Pineapple Stir-Fry, which I made for lunch today."

Why'd you google those ingredients?? That's easy: Hawaiian Chicken on a bed of rice.

That's what I wanted, but I didn't have a recipe. Shrike gets kind of nervous when I just "wing it" in the kitchen.

Google Cooking II: Broccoli Boogaloo
"So, back to Chef Google to search for "rice, chicken, broccoli."

Broccoli Rice Casserole!! Chicken either inside for a complete meal or on the side as the meat. Good night woman! Read a cookbook!!

Again, that's what I wanted, but it's much faster to Google the recipe than to read every cookbook in the house.


Saturday Meme
"1. Things that scare me: Bugs (especially roaches)"

Decapitated body of a poisonous snake in hand, she jumped on the table to flee from the tree roach and screamed Kill it, kill it, kill it!

True story. It happened at summer camp. I had just decapited the coral snake myself.

"10. Things I think you should listen to: Your heart, Your gut, Your partner"

Grandma says, "Your mother." She didn't really say that but I'm guessing she would.

Good point. Although, Shrike and I once had a long talk with them about our life plans (when we were considering our move to BlueState) and she talked about how, at some point, you have to live your life based on what's best for you, not based on making your parents, or anyone else, happy. It was kind of wierd. But very cool.


Family Day
"Shrike's grandma turned 81 on Thurday and, that same day, went into the hospital with some gastrointestinal issues."

Well...happy fucking birthday to her!!

No kidding.

Mingle - Mingle - Mingle
"Pour yourself a big glass of beverage-o-your-choice, serve up a plate of horse durveys . . . hors deour . . . hor d'ourves . . . appetizers and join the conversation!"

lol


Small Talk Question #2
"I live on the internet and get twitchy if I have to go a few hours without checking my email."

Somewhere online is a picture of what appears to be a skinny girl snorting crack...but the white powder spells out "MySpace"
ROFL


Thursday Thirteen #3
"Songs To Get Stoned By (Mix Tape)"
Nice...real nice... X-P

Hey, it was the 80s!

Okay, well I'm in April of your blog but I've been up all night and am really drooping so I'm off to sleep and snuggle kitties. :)
God sent us BabyKitten 'cause He knew I needed a lap cat :)

They have a new baby kitty, whom she rescued from the dogs next door.

Thanks for stopping by, I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Keep up the commenting, and I'll see you soon!

Thursday Thirteen #8

Since most of the 100 Things that I've already told you about myself are pretty wierd, I will skip the "13 Wierd Things About Me" from my list and instead, do some reminiscing about my school days.

13 School Memories

1. Kindergarten - I was always getting in trouble for talking in class, and having to sit "under the clock" at the back of the room, for time out (back before it was called time out).



2. First Grade - Every year, the first grade classes put on a "circus" for the whole school. We had these great costumes that were used year after year - elephants, tightrope walkers, trapeze artists, clowns, strongman, bareback riders, lion tamer - you name, it we had it. I think I was a trapeze artist. It was also the same script every year. By the time you were in sixth grade, you could practically recite it along with the Ring Master.



3. Second Grade - Our teacher would tell us stories about her pet monkey. Or, perhaps, our teacher made up a story about having a pet monkey.



4. Third Grade - I remember several of the books that the teacher read to us - Charlotte's Web, Old Yeller, The Incredible Egg, Johnny Texas, and more.



5. Fourth Grade - I remember the class being divided into groups to do research projects on different places for Social Studies. My group was studying Hawaii, and our presentation included some kind of (supposedly) Hawaiian food. Something with pineapple.



6. Fifth Grade - I remember stories circulating about the dramatic way in which one poor girl got her period for the first time. (It involved a classroom chair full of bloooood.) I kind of suspect there was some exaggeration involved, but true or not, I still feel bad for her.



7. Sixth Grade - I was captain of our school's team for Brain Battle, a local TV quiz show for sixth graders. It was a single-elimination tournament and we won four matches, but lost in the finals. My brother captained his team the next year, and they matched our performance, also losing in the finals. It was heartbreaking both years.
   


8. Seventh Grade - This is the year that I got my first boyfriend, and my first ex-boyfriend. The moment that we broke up he dumped me, I realized that all those traits I'd found so charming before were actually just annoying and assholic. We never did get along again, mostly because we were academic rivals.
   


9. Eighth Grade - Chanting, with my Algebra class: "In a right triangle / The square of the hypotenuse / Is equal to / The sumofthesquares / Oftheothertwosides.



10. Freshman Year - Another boyfriend, this one was a junior. With a car. I guess that's not really a school memory, but we hung out alot at school, too, of course, so it kind of is.



11. Sophomore Year - This memory is actually from the summer before my sophomore year, but close enough. My brother and I, along with a few other people we knew, took Health in summer school. Half the class was folks like us, getting the one-semester course out of the way, to make room in our schedules for "real classes," and the other half was kids who had failed Health during the school year. The teacher was a coach. You can imagine the dynamic.
    
    We had to do research papers on "any topic in the textbook." The teacher also approved topics that were tangential to any topic in the book. So, for example, if the book talked about "mental health," we could write on any mental health issue.
    
    One day, on the way home from school, my brother announced to my mom that, "I'm doing my research paper of the Oedipus Complex."
    
    Mom's reply: "Well, just leave me out of it!"
    


12. Junior Year - There were three high schools in our district. Each year, band students from all three schools tried out for the All City Band, which would rehearse together for a couple of days with some college band director from out of town, and then put on a concert. This was the only year that I made All City Band, but during the rehearsal, I got sick. And I mean sick.
    
    While we were playing, I came down with what I now know is a migraine and was very nauseated. I finally worked up the nerve to excuse myself and, let's just say that I should have done so about thirty seconds sooner. I made it into the bathroom, but not as far in as would would have hoped.
    
    After all that, I waited around another thirty minutes or an hour for the bus to take me back to my school, so I could drive myself home. To this day, I have no idea why I didn't just call my mom to come pick me up.
    
    I missed the concert the next night, but my boyfriend brought me a copy of the program (which was pretty sweet, for him) and, although you were technically required to actual perform in order to receive the All City Band patch for your letter jacket, the director was understanding enough to let me have one anyway.
    


13. Senior Year - Our AP Biology teacher was diagnosed with ovarian cancer this year (she died a few years later) and her substitute, for most of the spring semester, was a girl I'd gone to camp with, who was right out of college and only about four years older than us. We didn't learn as much as we should have, but we had a lot of fun.

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You Like Me, You Really Like Me!

Toni, my number one only blog fan, has honored me with a Thinking Blogger Award!

Here's what she had to say:

Whozat - You are such a perky wonderful gal! I am so glad I found your blog! I pride myself on being non-judgmental- you and Shrike re-enforce that for me! Plus- I just find you F**KING HILARIOUS!!

Aw shucks!

On the other hand, to paraphrase my mom, Toni doesn't get out much.

But, seriously, thank you. It's really nice to know that there's someone out there reading this - and enjoying it!

And here are the folks I'm tagging for the next five Thinking Blogger Awards:

1. Willa - Yumminess Ensues
2. Willa - Plants and Animals: All Sorts of Yumminess
   I know Willa in the real world, but I feel like I've gotten to know her a lot better since I've been reading her blogs. Yumminess Ensues features recipes and more, while Plants and Animals... is mostly the "more" but both blogs have some really interesting insights into her strong convictions about eating primarily locally produced foods. This is something that I admit I've not thought much about before. I also admit I'm not ready to actually undertake it at this point, but I'm learning alot and have been thinking more about these issues lately, thanks to her.
   
3. Roro - Creampuff Revolution
   The thoughts this blog inspires are generally along the lines of "Good-God-Almighty Roro is one funny woman!" Shrike and I spent Pride Weekend 2005 with Roro and Katr and I can vouch for the fact that she really is just like this. (Although, she did wear pants for most of our visit. Most of it.)
   
4. Katr - The Dramaturge at Home
   Roro's beaverancée and a long-time friend of mine, Katr blogs about everything from their Big Gay Wedding plans to the nature of online communities to . . . um . . . well . . . I don't really know what else, because sometimes I'm just not smart enough to keep up.
   
5. L and J - Desitin's Child
   This is the only blog I'm tagging that's not written by a personal friend of mine. I've never even left a comment for them, so they will probably be a bit creeped out surprised by it. However, I love the way they chronicle their daily conversations with their 2.5 (?) year old daughter, Emmie. Complete with phonetic spellings that totally capture the speech patterns of a child that age, little Emmie's words and her mom (L) and dad (J)'s commentary can be hilarious, touching and downright poetic. Often at the same time. Extra credit for the great title!

And here are the rules for the Thinking Blogger Award:

1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think,
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme,
3. Optional: Proudly display the “Thinking Blogger Award” with a link to the post that you wrote. (Silver / Gold)

Questions, Decisions and Announcements

So, I had that job interview on Wednesday, and spent the next day or two worrying about what I'd do if they didn't offer me one of the two positions for which they are considering me.

Then I started thinking about it more . . . and more . . . and more . . . and started having some real concerns.

One of the positions would definitely involve some travel, but I don't know how much. When they mentioned it in the interview, I wanted to find out more but, instead, what I said was "Oh, that's no problem!"

It could definitely be a problem both now and down the road. Now, if they want me to spend a week on the other side of the state conducting a training when I'm ovulating, and down the road if they want me to do it when I have a nursing four-month-old at home.

Also, a big issue is that the job is in CapitalCity, which is about an hour away - before you take into consideration traffic, parking, etc - and it starts at 8:30 am.

Now, part of me feels like I'm just being lazy to worry about the time factor but, as I might have mentioned before, Shrike works evenings and doesn't get home until around 1:30 am.

If she's getting in at 1:30 am and I'm leaving for work by 7:15 am, we basically have one of three choices:

1. I don't wait up for her, and from bedtime Monday until we get up on Saturday, we have zero awake time together.
2. I do wait up for her, and get about 3 - 4 hours of sleep per night.
3. I wait up for her, oversleep and get to work late. On a regular basis.

I suspect that Choice #3 is the most likely.

And that's not even considering the $2000 - $2500 of my salary that I'd be spending on parking and additional gas.

So, starting around Friday and just building more and more, I've found myself thinking, instead of "Oh no, what will I do if I don't get this job?" more along the lines of "Oh my God, what will I do if I get this job?"

That ought to tell me something, I think.

But, I am not without options. I hope.

A couple of weeks ago, I got a call from the office manager at my old job - the one I left to go to work for the BlueState Democratic Party, back in August.

She told me that, basically, they are getting ready to fire the guy who replaced me there. At first, I thought that she might be going to ask me to come back and, at that point, that's not what I wanted to do.

However, she was just asking me to fill-in if they didn't keep him around til they found a replacement, and to help train the new person.

But, as I've been thinking and talking about the ideal working conditions, in terms of a flexible schedule, being able to telecommute when needed, etc, I've repeatedly found myself saying "If I were still at OldJob . . . ."

So, I emailed them on Friday and said that, if they're open to the idea, I'd like to discuss the possibility of going back full-time, if StateJob didn't work out.

Over the weekend, I talked with Shrike about it a lot more, and talked to my mom on Saturday, which always helps, and discussed it with someone else today.

By the end of all that, I think I've decided that, no matter what OldJob says, I think I would probably turn down StateJob if they offer it to me.

Yikes.

So, after more talk, and rehearsing what I'd say with Shrike, I called OldJob and talked to the officer manager (who seems to be more of a decision-maker in the company that that title might indicate).

Well, to back-track just a moment - OldJob isn't exactly my old job. The company where I worked for 6.5 years was sold last summer, and the ownership changed hands on July 1.

Because of issues with moving all the equipment, etc, I was still actually at the old owner's location when I accepted the job for BS Dems. I left in mid-August, and they didn't move the stuff until I was gone.

So, I only actually worked for OfficeMgr and OldBoss for about six weeks, but we had talked about working conditions, etc, and I know that they are very flexible with scheduling, and are okay with telecommuting when necessary and are very family-friendly. Both OfficeMgr and NewOwner are single parents, and they are fine with employees working around their parenting responsibilities.

So, I called up OfficeMgr, and told her that I wanted to give her the whole story, because I would certainly understand if they had some questions about why I wanted to come back.

I told her that our priorities have changed because we're planning to start a family, and that I'm now looking for a job that's more conducive to that.

I also told her pretty much everything above, including that I will probably turn down StateJob, regardless of what OldJob's answer is.

She seemed pretty positive about it all and even told me that she'd left the company for a while and come back.

She said she'd talk to OldBoss about it this afternoon and, "He might need a couple of days to mull it over, but we'll call you back within the next few days, and we can talk about the details."

Or words to that effect. Now, OldBoss might veto it completely, but it sounded like she was okay with the idea, once I explained everything and assured her that I'm not just desperate or looking to go back til something better comes along.

I had to do a lot of thinking, and struggling with my ego, to get okay with the idea of going back, and to get past the feeling that I've tried to do something new and failed.

I just keep reminding myself that I didn't fail at getting a job in the political arena - I decided that's not what I want to do right now.

And, if I'd not been looking at the political stuff, I never would have been considering working in CapitalCity.

And, if my ego is the only thing stopping me, then that's a dumb reason.

And, I can always tell people that they begged me to come back, rather than the other way around. :-)

As my mom said, "If one changes one's destination, one may have to change the route to reach it."

There she goes again, with the great advice.

So, after talking with OfficeMgr, I feel like a huge weight is lifted from my shoulders. Not that I have any answers, but at least she didn't say "Hell no!" (or, "Sorry, we've already hired someone.").

I've done what I can for the moment and now I just have to wait and see what they say.

I should have an answer from them before I get an answer from StateJob, so at least I'll know what the situation is before I have to make a decision on that.

I'm seriously considering turning it down, even if OldJob won't take me, but that's awful scary, with only two months of unemployment left.

The other big announcement we made today is that we told Shrike's parents about our baby plans.

We had dinner with them, her sister and sister-if-there-was-a-law, niece and nephew.
I knew that they'd ask about my job search, so we talked about it before hand, and decided that if they did, we'd tell them the whole story.

(Minus some of the job decision angst.)

It went well, and they seem to be on board. Her mom did ask when we'd make this decision, and when Shrike had changed her mind about it all. I pointed out that a big part of the reason that she didn't want kids pre-me was that she doesn't want to actually HAVE one - and I'll be doing that part!

As we were leaving, her mom made a comment about "I wish you hadn't waited so long . . . ." because our kid will be so much younger that his/her cousins.

(They are 9.5 and 6.75. Which is nothing compared to his/her cousins on my side, who are 22.5 and 19.75!)

So, a couple of huge weights off our shoulders, but still in limbo about the job.

I'm hoping for a positive response from OldJob by the end of the week - and maybe I could even start back as early as Monday?!

So, after all that, lunch out (Chinese buffet), dinner out (mom and dad's treat) and two (quick) grocery trips, I'm exhausted and calling it a night soon.

I'll brag about my grocery accomplishments tomorrow, but will give this one hint now: Candy for less than free!

Our Other "Kids"

We share our home - and everything in it - with our three cats and two dogs.

I got MamaCat as a kitten, in July, 1995. In March 1997, she gave birth to four kittens. I kept two, BoyCat and GirlCat, and gave the other two to mysister.

Of my sister's two, one insisted on being an outdoor cat, and used up his nine lives much too quickly, but his siblings were all content with a life lived safely indoors, and will turn 10 later this month.

MamaCat will be 12 in May, but is the "kitten-y-est" of them all, still playing "bed mouse" on a regular basis.

PerfectPup and her three sisters were left in the emergency drop-off yard at a Humane Society about three hours from us. We spotted her on PetFinders.com, made a call and picked her up that weekend. She is the smartest, most beautiful dog ever. She never really did all that pain-in-the-ass puppy stuff, was basically potty trained when we got her, didn't chew things up and doesn't jump on people (yeah, that would be the hip dysplasia). Her only fault is that she's not so great at coming when called, but other than that she really is about perfect.

We got BigGaloot in June 2006, at the age of 8 weeks and he is, um, not so perfect. He's what we get for being so cocky about what great puppy parents we were, based on PerfectPup's behavior.

Shrike had been convinced for months that "PerfectPup wants a puppy." (A much different situation from "Shrike wants a puppy," you see.)

Finally, I decided that since about 99.999% of the stuff we do is my idea, the least I could do was let her get a dog. She'd found a two-year-old at a local shelter that she was interested in, so we went to check him out.

He turned out to be way bigger than PerfectPup, wasn't so great at walking on leash, and had gotten out of the fenced yard the day before.

Yeah, not our dog.

"Well," says the kid working there, "we do have a puppy. Would you like to see him?"

I said "Sure, show us the puppy," knowing damn well that what I was really saying was "Sure, we'll take the puppy!"

Damn those puppies and their infernal cuteness!

Nine months later, BigGaloot is way bigger than PerfectPup, was a nightmare on-leash until we bought him a no-pull harness, and has gotten out of the yard a couple of times.

Yep, that's our dog.

While visiting my family in Texas at Christmas, we were talking about our baby plans, and my mom said "How will you keep BigGaloot from eating the baby?"

We admitted that it is a concern that we have, but we're hoping he'll have settled down more by then. (He is much better than even a couple of months ago.)

She said, "You should take him to visit a friend who has a baby. Then, when he eats theirs, you should fuss at him. Alot.""My+Mama+Said" Pets Photos

Who's Your BabyDaddy?

Yesterday, we ordered and downloaded profiles for two sperm (or, as Shrike prefers to call it, "baby-juice") donor candidates.

We got info on a third one today, but had just about decided to rule him out anyway when we realized that he didn't actually fit our criteria; not sure how I missed that.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Here's what we're looking for, ideally:

ID Consent
(When the kid is 18, s/he can get his name, address, etc.)

Lifetime Photos available
(About 6 photos from infancy through adulthood.)

Caucasion
(Because we are. Let's not complicate the kid's life any more than necessary.)

5'10" or taller
(Shrike is 5'0" so this is important to her, although I'm 5'4")

Thin or athletic build
(Very important to me, to balance my genes for morbid obesity.)

Smart
(Very important to both of us.)

No family history of any kind of disease that's possibly genetic

Attractive

We're not being particularly picky about hair or eye color in that the important thing (I think) is that the kid just look enough like both of us that no one questions that it belongs to whomever it's with at the moment.

Shrike and I look enough alike (very similar coloration, hair type, etc - and that's really what people notice first) that we figure my genes will make it look as much like her as it does me, in that regard.

We are (although I feel a bit guilty about this) avoiding guys with red hair or red-headed relatives. We both like red hair alot, for looking at, but I think we should avoid setting the kid up to have to deal with every little old lady that s/he meets making comments like "Where'd you get that red hair?" and "Your Daddy must be red-headed!" So we're going to play it safe on that one. (No offense to you carrot-tops out there. Actually, you probably understand our concerns better than anyone!)

So, we've searched our sperm bank's database for white guys over 5'10" who are ID Consent donors, and then started narrowing from there.

Today I finally broke down and made a spreadsheet, so I can compare them side-by-side, including availability of photos, and whether there's anything in his summary profile (medical info on him and his parents, grandparents, siblings and children) that is of concern to us.

My dad is a doctor, so I emailed him and my mom to ask how picky we should be about things like diabetes, heart disease, cancer, etc, and also whether there's anything in our family that I should know about and avoid duplicating from the donor's side.

My mom encouraged me to avoid guy with issues that are already in my family (like diabetes), but also said that, "You are unlikely to find a donor who had a family in which no one ever died of anything."

Um, yeah. I guess she's got a point there.

Our search yielded 22 results. We've complete ruled out about ten for things like pet allergies, the diseases above, and the one guy who's mom had a cleft palate. (Surely they would have eliminated him if that's genetic, but why take chances?)

Then we've flagged about eight as "iffy" based on similar criteria.

That leaves the two guys that we downloaded yesterday and, I think, two others. We'll probably download them later today.

Of the two that we've seen, we like them both and agree on which would be our first choice.

We also agreed that the third one (who turned out to not be "ID Consent") was a distant third choice, because we were less than impressed with his academic record and test scores.

Is that elitist of us?

We were saying "Well, we shouldn't rule him out completely . . . ." but then we kept finding ourselves referring to him as "the dumb guy."

I told Shrike that, whether it's right or not, if our gut reaction was to think of him that way, he's probably not who we should choose to father our child!

The other two are anything but dumb.

"Doc" is an emergency physician and my dad said that his MCAT scores are "good enough to get you into Harvard or Yale."

"Popeye" (he lists spinach as his favorite food! WTF?) has a BA in English, is working on a Master in Journalism (which is what Shrike's BA is, so that's cool) and scored a 1470 on the SAT. He's evidently pretty darn good at math, too, for an English major!

Both of these guys have lifetime photos available, but the other two that seem to be at the top of our list don't.

Our better sides tell us that shouldn't matter and we should only get the adult photos of TheGuy, so that we can show them to the kid, but our shallower sides want to make sure he's cute!

Both of their baby photos are pretty cute, but as my mom also points out, "All babies and little kids, as long as they're well-nourished, well-cared-for and well-dressed, are cute."

(She's a smart one, that mom o' mine.)

The sperm bank recommends that we choose at least three, since they can't promise that our first choice will be available.

We'll probably wait til we've settled pretty solidly on our top three before ordering any lifetime photos, at $100 per set.

Some of the guys also have audio interviews available (and one-question clips available online for free). We will probably wait and just get the CD for TheGuy, rather than using that as a criterion for making a decision.

So, that's where it stands right now. I'm dying to check out these other two guys, but I promised Shrike I'd wait til she gets home and can look over the spreadsheet with me again. "Adventures+In+Baby+Making" "My+Mama+Said"

Before the Blog: My Coming Out Story

I never really know where to start with my coming out story; so I guess I'll start at the beginning - coming out to myself.

I suppose I've always been interested in women. In retrospect, I can see that, growing up, I always had a crush on one friend or another, but I was probably in high school when I first consciously thought about a woman in "that" way.

I dated guys (well, a couple - I wasn't exactly Miss Popularity) in school, and was with one from my junior year in high school until after I'd graduated from college. After he and I broke up, I became the classic girl in her 20s, "out to find a man."

Through all that time, I was still getting crushes on girls, and still thinking about girls, but still convinced that it was just something that was fun to think about, but not something I'd ever actually do.

When I was 28, I was having a few drinks a good friend (on whom I'd had a crush for a while) when suddenly the converation turned to the subject of being with another woman.

Suffice it to say, I soon began thinking that perhaps I might be "bisexual," rather than just "a little bi-curious."

(I was still a long, long way from claiming the label "lesbian.")

Over the next year or so, I started visiting a lot of gay, lesbian and bisexual websites, and that's when I met Shrike. During the time that we were involved online, and were beginning to plan her move to Texas, I came out to a select few of my friends and they were very supportive, but then, it was a very select group.

I had no plans of coming out to my family any time soon. I told myself that if they knew Shrike and liked her before they found out about our relationship, that they would take it better. To be honest, I was just plain chicken.

Right after Shrike moved in with me, I spent a month working as director of a summer camp. Shrike and I spoke on the phone at least once a day, and a couple of times she drove up to see me, or to bring me things. At the beginning of the camp season, I was out to two of my staff members.

By the end of the season, the entire staff, and many of the campers had figured it out. I knew that one counselor, in particular (an ex-Boy Scout - coincidence? I think not!) did not approve at all, and I was somewhat concerned that he - or any of the other people who'd drawn their own conclusions - might out me "publicly" and it might get back to my family.

I knew that as much I as didn't want to tell them, I'd much rather they hear it from me than from someone else.

I decided to start with my brother, because he would be the easiest. I didn't really know how he'd react, but I don't worry as much about having his "approval" as my parents' or my older sister's, so I wasn't as worried about telling him.

As it turned out, he made it even easier for me. We went to dinner one evening, right after I'd come home from camp, and he told me about his friend from law school who'd just come out to him, and about going to PrideFest with her and her girlfriend.

After a few drinks, I said, "OK, I've got something to tell you." He just laughed and said, "You and Shrike are 'really good friends?'" Of course, he'd known all along, and had laid out all that information about his lesbian friends to let me know that it was ok to tell him. After I'd told him he said, "You know, our family just got like ten times more interesting!"

My brother was also a great help in convincing me to come out to my parents. Although I knew that they had never been anything but accepting of other gay people that they knew, I thought they might feel differently when it was their own kid. I really expected to get a "What will the neighbors think?" attitude from them.

He told me, though, how cool my mom was when he talked about his friends, and that he didn't think they'd have any problem with it at all. Of course, that didn't stop me from being terrified.

The next weekend, I finally told myself that I had to do it, and showed up on their doorstep unannounced. I went in and said that I needed to talk to them about something. I'm sure I scared them half to death, because I was shaking so badly. No telling what they thought I was going to say! I realized, of course, that I was now beyond the point of no return, I couldn't just say, "Oh, never mind," and leave, so I somehow managed to get through my little prepared speech.

I said, "I have something to tell you - it's about Shrike - well, it's about me and Shrike - we're not just roommates, she's my girlfriend."

They both looked at me, absolutely expressionless. So I continued, "I don't necessarily expect you to like this, and you may have trouble even accepting it at first, but I hope that with time you will, and that you will come to accept Shrike as a member of this family."

Then I sat there for what seemed like hours (of course, it was probably more like a second or two), praying for either of them to react - anything - just stop staring at me!

My dad spoke first; he said, "Well, it's your choice." I had a sigh of relief about half way out, when my mother said, "I don't agree with Daddy on that."

The sigh of relief turned back into terror in the split second before she continued, "I don't think it's a choice."

I was amazed. They were absolutely cool about it. Later in that conversation I told them my concerns about being outed at the school where I was teaching, and their reaction was basically, "So?" As my mom said, "It's not like they're going to fire you - they have a girl's PE department, you know."

Then she said, "But you don't want them talking about you? They'll make things up to talk about if they don't have something real, don't worry about it."

We talked about a lot of other things that afternoon, including my plans to leave teaching, what I might do instead (I had no clue, at the time) and that Shrike and I were thinking of moving to BlueState. It was the first real, honest, serious conversation I think I've ever had with them.

At one point during the conversation about possible job options, graduate school, etc, I said "I can probably get that information online."

To which my mother responded, "Evidently, you can find everything you need on the Internet."

Indeed.

Later, as I was getting ready to leave, my dad hugged me - we are not a hugging family, so this was a big deal - and then he just kind of shrugged and said, "Whatever." I don't think there's a much better reaction to be had from a dad finding out his daughter is a lesbian than a hug and a "whatever."

Once my parents were out of the way, I still had to tell my sister. In a way, she was even harder than them, because she is very religious, very conservative and very convinced that homosexuality is a sin.

I knew that she would still love me, but my biggest concern was how she would handle the information with her kids, who were barely 12 and almost 15 at the time. I wasn't really afraid that she'd stop me from seeing them or anything like that, but I figured she wouldn't want them to know, and I really didn't want to have to always be worrying about what they might see lying around our house, or always be afraid I'd slip and call Shrike "Honey" in front of them or something.

It took about another week to work up the nerve to tell her, and even then, I did it over the phone, lying in bed, with Shrike holding me while I talked to her. She had pretty much suspected as much, but was pretending it wasn't true. She wasn't real thrilled that I was forcing her to acknowledge it; I think she was hoping it would be a "don't ask, don't tell" situation. She was very surprised that I had told my parents already, she didn't expect me to do that, at all.

She decided that her kids needed to know, although she did ask that we not be demonstrative around them. A few days later, she told them. For a good while, neither of them acknowleged that they knew, but in the last couple of years, my niece, in particular, has been very matter-of-fact about it. During as recent t visit to Texas she even outed us in the middle of TCBY!

I didn't used to believe that there could really be such a thing as "hate the sin, love the sinner," but if it exists, my sister is the embodiment of it. It really impresses me that as much as she thinks that our relationship is wrong, she still treats Shrike like family, and I can still talk to her about our relationship.

She's given me "in-law advice," we can make jokes about it, she even read through our family history one night on the phone, looking for good last names, when Shrike and I were thinking about taking a whole new one when we got married. That turned out to be quite interesting - we discovered we have an ancestor whose last name was "Dyke"!

In case you're wondering about the last name thing, we legally hyphenated them in October 2001. Hers comes first, because it just sounds better that way; I have one of those "first name" last names, so with mine first, they sound like some guy's whole name! (Perhaps some long-lost cousin of Shrike's?)

I've been out at my current job from the beginning; I actually included an earlier, much more primative version of [my old] website on my resume. My boss is very cool; he even sent an angry email to Jerry Falwell after he blamed the September 11 attacks on "gays, lesbians, feminists...."

When our name change was final and I ask him if it was ok if I told the truth to any clients who asked (they'd see it on my emails) he said "That's your business who you want to tell what; and if they have a problem with it, then I'll have a problem with them."

At Christmas time in 2001, I wasn't quite sure how to handle sending cards to my extended family, since I would either have to use my old last name for the return address, or no last name, or explain why I had a new last name.

So, with my mom's blessing, I sent the usual cards to the extended family (aunts, uncles, cousins), but included a "newsletter" recounting our year, including the wedding (that went to everybody), and an additional "coming out" letter (we were already out to everybody else on the list).

The response was great - I heard back from several of them, and they all - even my mom's seventy-something-year-old Baptist preacher cousin - addressed their Christmas cards to both of us. One aunt and uncle even sent a belated wedding gift - a check for $100!

Now that my extended family knows, I can't think of anyone whom I really "know" that I'm not out to. Out of all of them, the only negative reaction I've gotten was from the one guy at camp, and even he never actually said anything to me (and I never actually came out to him - he'd just heard rumors.)

Other than that, the most frustrating reaction, which I've gotten from many people, has been, "Hell, I've known that for years!" - I always think, "Gee, thanks, wish you'd told me!"

I'm amazed at how far I've come in just a few years. I'm out to pretty much everyone I know, I out myself to strangers pretty nonchalantly, I have multiple pride stickers on my car, I wear a "freedom rings" earring all the time and Shrike and I share a last name.

We're not always comfortable walking around town holding hands and things like that, but we do it quite a bit, and I kind of enjoy "pushing the envelope."

A while back I realized that just because someone stares at us walking arm and arm, it doesn't mean that they are shocked or appalled or planning to hurt us - maybe they're intriqued, maybe they're impressed with us for having the guts to do it, and, even if they are shocked and appalled, at least they're being educated by seeing that we eat at the same restaurants and shop at the same Walmart, and have the same boring lives that they do.