The house – which, by the way, we took off the market for now; more on that later – is quiet. My mom was here today, which means we had a great great day. Bram just lights up around his Bubbie, and for my part, I love getting to see my mom be a grandma. Love it ferociously. She’s just amazing. But now the house is quiet. Bram and J are sleeping, and I want to drink a glass of wine, and do some stretching, and read a book. And maybe watch an old episode of something. But first, a wee update.
Yesterday was my thirty-fifth birthday (shout out to ’78ers!), and I think it was my best one yet. J surprised me by taking the day clean off, so I slept in (until 8:30!; she was up with the boy at 6), and was awoken with a card Bram picked out and colored himself, and breakfast on the table. My wife, she knows her girl. So what else? Oh yeah, then we did a little insemination (J’s body) before heading on a smashingly great day-trip that included shopping (with a gift card: a skirt that as it turns out is also a dress because the universe loves me after all!), and eating at an amazing outdoor cafe (local produce. local meat. big umbrellas to shade the tables. the honor system for seating.), and a ferry boat ride (which B LOVED of course, and which came with white boys rapping), and a dozen other lovely birthday delights. It was a great great day. I seriously cannot stop smiling when I think about it.
Oh, but that insemination I just glossed over. :) J’s cycles are still screwy and we had pretty much decided to just send the sperm back because the timing was so strange, but when she surged the day before my birthday, the possibility felt charged, so we went for it. I mean, a birthday insemination worked out for our friends N, D, and R, and that’s good company right there. We may not try again while we live in Michigan. Or we may try once more. We can’t try much beyond that even if her cycles regulate because if I find tenure-track work we’ll be moving next July, and I’ll be starting full-time teaching the following fall, and I’m not willing to have no maternity leave. (More on this, the new only big thing that tortures me.)
So anyway, we’re likely not to get pregnant. Or, you know, we could. But here’s something you’ve never heard me say before: we’re feeling pretty damn laid back about the whole thing. Really. Open and excited, but not attached. Staying in the moment and not making a thousand decisions ahead on every possible contingency. We’ve also just completed (almost totally) our licensure to adopt through the foster care system. We have an AMAZING social worker, and we’re all set up for placement of permanent wards of the state, which means kids whose parents have already had their rights terminated. That means a (likely) much longer wait, but the alternative is reunification being the goal, and that’s just… we’re not there. Anyway, our social worker has warned us that placement is unlikely given our timing, but she’s concomitantly optimistic, so who knows. We are open to being contacted about children birth through five (with lots of caveats), so we’ll see. We’ll just see. It’s as much of a waiting game as anything else, and I’ll be damned if we haven’t sort of embraced that. We could have a four-year-old by September is what I’m saying. Or we could be pregnant now. Or we could leave here next year as a family of three. And yet (enter the crazy part): I’m not frightened of any of these possibilities. They each come with their own challenges, but they each come with their own gifts too. I’m excited to see which gifts are in store for us. Really. Like, almost no trauma or feeling tortured. As my wife said tonight, this is the new laid back RLG. She may not stick around, but she’s fun while we have her. ;)
In the meantime, this winter-girl is madly in love with summer. We are soaking up the playground trips, and Bram’s little bike, and the new bat and ball we got him today. That kid, man. Just try not to be happy around him. And J and I are good. I had a GREAT time at the insemination yesterday (which because of timing, we had to do with an actual MD in an actual office). I wore B on my back through the whole thing. I wandered the halls with him while J rested after. We checked out the roof. I love the freedom of supporting her. Of being with our boy. NGPhood has so many profound privileges; it just takes a little work to see them.
Things aren’t perfect. I’m falling down on the friend front and I don’t know how to fix it. I feel like all the minutes disappear. It’s mostly parenting a toddler with no childcare, but it’s also grief and it’s also family and it’s just that time feels so different now. But friendship, my sisters… they mean so much to me. How do y’all manage friendship when your kiddos are young? Especially with friends who don’t have kids? Anyway, things aren’t perfect. I’m pretty sure grief is making me sensitive and rabble-rousy and contentious. I actually told a mama that I wouldn’t help her with babywearing because she openly supports “traditional marriage.” I told her this publicly. Through social media. In a babywearing group that I started. I keep wondering if that’s douchy (and stupid? because I might have opened her mind?) or just reasonable. Mostly, though, I just don’t care. It’s a fucked up world, and I try to do my part, but holy hell sometimes it has to be reasonable just to say fuck off, right? So things aren’t perfect. But seriously, folks, they sure are sweet anyway.