Lincoln’s Obituary


Dear Hoomans, If you are reading this, you know that I have crossed the rainbow bridge…gone belly up…walked my last walk…eaten my last bone…licked my last hooman…barked my last bark…kicked the bucket…died. Now I’m enjoying life with my old friends, Milo, Chester & Oakley, while Calvin looks off into the distance still refusing to join in on the fun. I enjoyed all 14 years of my life on this earth, even when Moms brought home two baby hooman brothers for me. I am going to miss my family greatly, just as I know they are going to miss me, especially at dinner time when I would loudly beg for their plates of food. I’m going to miss running through the vineyard terrorizing all the trespassers that weren’t my family members, and I will absolutely miss sleeping on the couch, the bed, going to Tahoe to dig in the sand and run in the snow. Luckily, the great thing about death is that I no longer feel pain, and this huge lipoma (who I named Thor) is no longer cramping my style. I feel great now! And forewarning for anyone who lives near my grandparents’ property: If they spread my ashes on a windy day, you might get a piece of me in your mouth that will remain with you furever. It’s ok though. And for my family, I promise to send you another puppy in the near future that won’t take my place, but will be a great addition to our family. I love you greatly! -Lincoln

🤦🏽‍♀️

I haven’t had much to say lately. Rather then share my random thoughts and goings-on, I’d like to hear more from those I care about. Weirdly, listening to a friend or family member share their fears, happiness, or whatever helps to quell some of my own. Why? Who knows. Perhaps it’s the empathetic side of me that just needs verbal or written confirmation from you on what I’m already feeling. Then I feel better that I haven’t lost my “touch,” and perhaps my lending an ear can help you feel a bit better as well. Because let’s face it, pandemic life is a bit of a rough go some days, so we should do what we need in order to feel better.

So what is actually going on in my life? So much that until certain dates arrive, I honestly don’t know how I will handle it except to just roll with the blows life throws at me. On January 11th I start my second round of graduate school in the MPH Certificate program at UNMC. (I’m starting with the certificate, and then planning on entering the MPH program after acquiring the certificate.) Yep. I’m one of those weird fucks who jumped at the waived GRE opportunity to return to get more schooling in and increase our debt a bit more. It’s a year before I was actually planning on returning to school, but I just could not pass up the waived GRE bandwagon.

Am I scared? Hell yes. I graduated from graduate school in 2004–FOREVER AGO. And I’m in the online program now, which means I have to learn all of these different programs for classes, assignments, quizzes, etc., and all I can think about is how much I miss pens, paper, and sitting in a classroom. Oh, and on top of all that I still will be working with clients, raising two highly energetic sons with my lovely wife, and hopefully getting a free moment here or there, along with good nights of sleep so my depression doesn’t start to creep back in and push me out of the positive head space I keep working so hard to maintain.

So that’s where I am, with perhaps a few other things that truly don’t need to be mentioned in this blog because I’ve spent enough time on them already to want to lose more.

Cheers to you and your adventures in 2021, especially if you hopped on the waived GRE bandwagon like I did to return to school. I wish you all safety, happiness, and the COVID-19 vaccine.

P.S. If you try to get a hold of me anytime after January 11, and I don’t respond for a bit, now you know why.

Oh to be young again with so few responsibilities.

Oh to be young again with so few responsibilities.

Argh…

Anyone else having an especially rough time these last couple of weeks? I sure as hell am. I know it is definitely the stew of pandemic life, the wild fires, all the political BS, the possibility of ACB joining SCOTUS and slamming every door closed that RGB worked her whole life to open for us…all of that and more I’ve already buried in the vaults of my mind refusing to deal with, has me losing sleep (which wasn’t much before to actually lose having two young kids in the house). Sleep is extremely important for repair, recovery, a healthy immune system and maintaining sanity, so losing it because of bull shit…well, it sucks. Losing it over kids when they wake in the middle of the night, I will gladly handle. But this? Isn’t this what leads to cancer, CVD, and other chronic illnesses that will further increase stress levels and the amount of money we owe in bills?

This uncertainty around our present and future is like a tumbleweed. It starts small, but as the wind swirls and it continues to roll, it just keeps picking up more dead foliage, increasing in size. Or as I like to call it, an even bigger cluster fuck of uncertainty. It’s enough to drive a person into a deep depression. How the hell do we cope? How do we heal? How do we live as fulfilling of a life that we can right now? How do we find peace? How do I stop asking “how?”

Oh, and before I forget, fuck you Trump, Barr, McConnell, Pence, Graham, and all the other white supremacist dicks that have chosen to fulfill their greedy wants over the needs of the people. I always knew I was not one who had patience for greedy people, but these past four years have really brought my intolerance to greed out with a vengeance. I seriously do not want to have anything to do with greedy people. It’s a whole ‘nother level of evil when your greed doesn’t just hurt those directly within your “circle,” but the whole USA, and other countries.

So I am begging you to vote those assholes out of office. Vote for democracy, a better today, a brighter tomorrow, equality for all, the ACA, pro-choice, BLM, LGBTQ rights, education, taxes for the 1 percent of the top 1 percent…just vote blue. And talk to everyone, and implore them to vote blue. And if you run into a Trump supporter, keep your mask on and walk away—they are not worth it.

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9/16/20 Random Thoughts

If you owe someone an apology, don’t wait for them to come asking for one in order for them to heal.

Will my knee ever heal from this last surgery so I can run again in order to maintain sanity, or will I have to take up biking and recreational drugs instead?

WHY? WHY? WHY do people think that voting for Trump and a majority of the asshole Trump-supporting Refucklicans is a good idea for our country?

How is it that I still love a good PB&J when I am 40 years old?

Why do so many things go wrong during a pandemic, yet so many things also go right?

What do I want to be when I grow up? And on that note-shit! I need to put some money away for retirement!!

Will our two sons ever run out of energy?

Does anyone know the name of this plant so I can plant one in my front yard?

Does anyone know the name of this plant so I can plant one in my front yard?

Some Good Has Come From SIP

We are absolutely blessed to be living where we are during this shelter-in-place (SIP) order due to COVID-19. NorCal is quite abundant with local farmers, restaurants and coffee shops for food delivery/pick-up; an abundance of trails; kick-ass weather; WINERIES AND BREWERIES; and plenty of space for everyone to spread out in order to maintain physical distancing. Are a lot of businesses closed? Yes. But some folks put their thinking/adjustment hats on and found a way to stay open-THANK YOU!

Having two young boys not being able to hang with friends, go to school, play at the park, and escape down every fuckin’ aisle of Target or the grocery store practicing their evasive maneuvers is wearing on them. However, at least we have a home with a yard, and we’re not trying to parent 24-7 in a small studio apartment in a major city where everyone is practically on top of each other and green grass is tough to find to let the kids roll and run through.

And as much as SUP is popular on a lot of the open water we are blessed with in this state, unless you own your own board and paddle, you won’t be enjoying it during SIP, unfortunately. So most likely no SUP during SIP folks. Same goes for you yogis that enjoy SUP yoga. Okay…I’ll stop now.

As a reminder to myself that there is some good coming from this (I will not state #blessed), I thought I’d list a few:

  1. Loads of quality and memorable time with our sons, dog, and my wife. And yes, we haven’t threatened to kill each other, nor hire divorce attorneys…yet. In fact, I’d say we’re a bit closer.

  2. More time to bike, get a bit of running in, and increase my fitness overall.

  3. Tons more time for gardening, and enough time to watch the plants actually grow!

  4. Extra time to read in the evenings after the boys fall asleep since I don’t have to wake up at 4:30 for work.

  5. Time to work on another certification, although I am also finding out how hard it is to study while parenting two young boys.

  6. More greedy decisions and inaction from Trump and his GOP thugs to show THE WHOLE WORLD HOW SCREWED OUR FUTURE WILL BE IF WE DON’T VOTE FOR BIDEN in 2020 and other Democrats in all local elections.

Ok…so #6 isn’t a good thing, except that perhaps more people will actually get out and vote. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL, VOTE BLUE!!

Just a few additional thoughts…

Please be safe and smart-our health care workers and first responders are busy enough already. They don’t need any of our stupid actions to lead towards additional hospital visits if we can help it. On that note, I need to remind our oldest to stop jumping on the top bunk of his bed…which he is currently doing right now. 🤦🏽‍♀️

Go buy stamps. Mail letters, parcels, baby chicks, and bees via the USPS. Trump and the GOP are doing their evil best to get rid of a public right and major piece of our lives.

Join a local CSA (Community Supported Agriculture). You will be purchasing seasonal food and supporting local farmers who desperately need your help, especially during this pandemic.

On that same note-purchase fresh roasted coffee beans from a LOCAL roaster. If you want to support small roasters from all over, check out Trade Coffee.


If you are having a shitty time, I’m truly sorry. I hope you have someone to talk to, walk with, have a drink (or six), and laugh with in order to perhaps feel a bit better. This can’t last forever. It won’t last forever.

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A Bit of A Rant…just let me have it

Well folks, I woke up to the sound of the recycling truck picking up our bin, which means it’s Friday. Did you know it was Friday? Typically I would be at work by 6AM, so I don’t get to wake up to the sounds of our bins being picked up by a mechanical arm and dumping our weeks worth of trash, yard waste, or recycling into the back of a truck being driven by people who are working hard through this pandemic. There are moments I wish I was able to work, but for the most part, I’m secretly enjoying this time so much at home that I’m hoping my wife is clairvoyant and today she is going to sit down, look at our finances, and see if I can continue to be a SAHM after all this is over…OR return to school full-time for a chance at another career since my body is falling apart and I’ve been questioning for a while now if I should continue in my current profession.

I’ve been working as an Exercise Physiologist, Kinesiologist and Personal Trainer since the early 2000s, and as much as I love my clients, my body has just had so many injuries that the arthritis reminding me of those injuries sometimes for a few days back-to-back, is a daunting fatigue. Not to mention, compared to most people who work in this field, I’m not that egotistical, so I don’t fit in. I’m not the type of person who needs to post my workouts and pics of my body online in order to receive the thumbs up and hearts to boost my ego like some people I know. If I’m posting a workout, it’s actually to help people, not for me to feel good. Or if it’s a pic of a location I hiked/ran to, it’s because it’s a beautiful view, not so that I will receive affirmation on social media that I’m doing great at making my calves look good. 

I am in this profession to help people improve their health, not help them look good in a bikini. I mean, sure, if that’s your goal, I’ll help you design a program to reach that, but there’s more to a healthy life than the look of your body. For some reason, that seems to be the draw for most people to exercise, which I disagree with. It’s sad, shallow, and eventually everyone’s body changes. If you can’t begin to accept that, it’ll be a shock to your psyche when it does eventually happen. Focus on loving yourself, not trying to forge yourself into who you aren’t, and who you think others want you to look like. Looks are definitely not everything.

With what everyone in the world is currently dealing with right now—a pandemic of un-limitless proportions that is affecting every race, class, and gender—overall health (not just our looks), is what we need to focus on. This fuckin’ virus is non-biased, regardless of what our wanker of a President thinks, and during a time when we all need to be following physical distancing and doing our best to remain home if we have the luxury to do so, those who are still obsessed with the look of their bodies without any place to go…well, your looks won’t save you from this pandemic. Your overall health by exercising, eating well, getting plenty of sleep, and trying to keep your stress levels low will help you be able to cope with the changes in your life, and possibly help you if you do contract COVID-19, but you fitting into that damn thong bikini will make no fuckin’ difference.

I know, I’m ranting. I shouldn’t even have time to type this rant up because we have two energetic young boys at home we love dearly, but who are missing their friends, grandparents, the playgrounds, and they are taking up every minute of our day. Personal time is rare. You know that pic of the small little toddler hand under the bathroom door? That’s 24-7 now. But I look at them and they remind me of what is important—not my looks, but my overall health, and our family. So get your priorities straight: take care of yourself physically, psychologically, and spiritually so that you can be there for your loved ones, and for yourself; make sure you have enough toilet paper, since that is now a rare commodity; if you’re of age and not in AA, go ahead and treat yourself to a relaxing drink in the evening; get outside as much as you can; stay in contact with people over the phone and/or FaceTime; turn off the news so you can mentally have a break from the virus (We don’t allow the news on in our house. We either read about it, or listen to it.); exercise (but don’t post a pic of your body in your underwear on social media); meditate; get in some yoga; go to bed at an early hour; watch some comedy so you can laugh—in fact, do whatever you need to do so you can laugh; read a book; cook; garden; and spend quality time with the loved ones you listed on your census form.

Anything that entertains them (within reason), we do. Especially if it allows us to get a few gardening projects done!

Anything that entertains them (within reason), we do. Especially if it allows us to get a few gardening projects done!

Good luck out there. Hopefully this blog post didn’t offend too many of you, but I have a feeling that if you actually do read my blog, you aren’t offended too much by what I write…except for my family members. I tend to upset at least one family member with each blog post. Sorry.

Our family is craving some time at the beach.

Our family is craving some time at the beach.

My Plea

It is imperative that I die before my wife does.

NO! This is NOT a suicide note, nor a blog post because of COVID-19. I actually wrote this a few months ago, because weirdly, I’m one who constantly tries to be prepared for the future, and even as a kid, I would worry about my parents dying and me being the person who would need to raise and care for my three younger siblings. It’s how I am, it’s how I’ve always been—a planner who enjoys life a bit more when I am prepared for the worst-case scenario. Of course, due to COVID-19, this blog post is quite relevant to the current situation a bit more then before.

I must die before my wife NOT because I feel she’s a better mother than I. She is a wonderful Mom, but I believe even she’ll admit that I am also a loving and natural mother to our children. Almost to a fault sometimes even, and neglecting my own personal needs. I have to keep reminding myself, “Larisa, you can’t pour from an empty cup.” That reminder hits home since I’m a coffee fiend that understands the lack of results when the coffee is out.

On that note, I’ll be right back. I need another cup of coffee.

So, back to my request to die before my wife does. This plea is for a few major reasons:

First, she has a job that gives us wonderful health insurance. If we were to take the health insurance offered by my employer, only the tongue depressor used in an exam would be covered once per year.

Second, my wife’s job pays a hell of a lot better than mine does. Hers pays well enough that she can afford the mortgage, preschool, the nanny for our youngest, internet, TV, food, legos, and clothes for our children. She can also afford to keep and feed our soon-to-be 13 year-old dog. If she died, my job would only feed us, there would be no more legos, our dog would have to go and live with another family member (probably willingly—he’s had a “go bag” packed since our firstborn was brought home from the hospital), definitely no more TV and internet, and we’d have to rent out our house to supplement our income. We would then be forced to go and live in our tent at a local campground in order to continue saving money. Eventually the authorities would be notified that two young children are permanently living in a campground with their Mom who visually seems like she’s going to have an emotional breakdown at any moment. The kids would be taken away, I would be committed, and then forced to constantly prove I’m a great Mom who should be awarded her kids back to her custody even though we reside in NorCal and I earn wages practically at poverty level.

Fuck.

Okay, perhaps this blog is not just a plea, but a confession of one of my worst fears—my wife dying before me. I should also let you know that this fear’s outcome is similar to another fear I have—my wife divorcing me and I’m kicked out of our home. Again, I have a sleeping bag, a tent, and two camping stoves, but living part-time in a campground with two small children is frowned upon by authorities.

Perhaps, instead of focusing on fears that will most likely never come to see daylight, I should breathe and enjoy the present. I need to look at what I currently have—a smart wife (who hasn’t died nor divorced me yet) who has this beautiful and loving personality and through her consistently calming ways is a solid pillar in our family that supports us (even when she drives us crazy with her iPhone screen time); our two highly energetic ornery sons that brighten our lives even more than we ever imagined; our small bungalow I would never trade for a large house, but wish we had the money to add onto; our cranky, arthritic dog who barks to remind us he’s still alive and we get to enjoy three walks a day with; a job I fairly enjoy, even though I wish I was paid what I’m worth; and lovely campgrounds we can visit on short camping trips, not live permanently in.

Yes, I’ll focus on the positive. Thanks for reading a blog about my crippling fears. I think I’ll schedule a FaceTime session with my therapist right after I check to make sure both boys are breathing, and convince my wife that in the midst of this pandemic and with all the extra time we are spending at home, we should write our Wills. You know…just in case…

Wash your hands people, be safe, and practice physical distancing, but not social distancing!

The campground is always a 1/4 mile away.

The campground is always a 1/4 mile away.

Shelter-In-Place Positivity

These are trying times. Sheltering-in-Place for 2.5 weeks without work is not something most of us would ask for. The fear of possibly not having any work to return to when they lift this “order,” or for those who already lost their jobs so they may apply for unemployment benefits with the hope of being rehired when this shit storm blows over, is stress that we are all struggling to deal with.

Some families with children are stressing over home-school. Our children are 1 and almost 4 years old, so we’re choosing to not stress over home-schooling and just letting them play, entertain themselves, and helping us a bit here-or-there with some chores. Anything to lower their stress level and ours is a plus in my book. Besides, they’re toddlers. They’re not suppose to have school work yet. Their daily To-Do List is literally: wash hands singing the ‘Happy Birthday Song’ twice; eat your meals and snacks; drink plenty of water and milk; PLAY; take naps; enjoy your bath; read books; color, paint and draw; mind your ‘Ps’ and ‘Qs;’ run, walk, scooter, and/or bike outside; help Mommies when we ask; and occasionally be bored.

It’s actually perfectly ok for our kids to learn how to entertain themselves and occasionally be bored. We as adults, should also be ok with boredom. We have gotten into the habit of overwhelming our schedules with events and have forgotten how to just hang at home.

This time at home with the family, minus the fear of a lack of income if this shelter-in-place extends past 4/8/20, is honestly how we spend most of our weekends—we relax at home (some people think we’re asocial…and I’m ok with that). We are doing our best to approach each day just as if it’s a typical Saturday or Sunday for us. Unfortunately we are repeatedly having to explain to our oldest why we can’t see any of his friends at the park right now, and why he isn’t allowed to see Grandma and Grandpa either, which is probably the worst part of this whole thing. I hate telling to him that we can’t see them because we’re trying to make sure they don’t get sick, and that we don’t get sick. It’s very difficult during FaceTime sessions with Grandma and Grandpa when their Aunts and Uncle are over there hanging out. No matter what we say, he just doesn’t understand why we don’t drive to their house to also hang out with them and the rest of the family. Toddlers are only going to understand so much, and honestly, I kinda don’t understand either. I mean I do, but I feel for him, so I also don’t.

And perhaps their minimal understanding is best right now, given how scary the present and future is. I have a feeling this is not the first pandemic our sons are going to have to deal with. ( I mean, let’s not forget the climate crisis that is currently going on as well.) I can only hope that how we are handling this fuckery is a lesson they will hold onto, and then implement when they have to deal with it in the future. Hopefully they’ll try to remain calm and maintain some normalcy in their lives with the necessary steps in place in order to stay safe. Hopefully they’ll also have a savings account for an emergency situation, along with at least 2 weeks of pantry goods, enough toilet paper that they don’t have to go to the store in the early morning to get a ticket and stand in line in order to purchase a small package of toilet paper because assholes hoarded all the TP thinking that was one way they were going to defeat COVID19. And maybe they will also use birth control until they are fully capable of supporting 1 or 2 children, keeping in mind that due to the climate crisis the food will perhaps be minimal, and you never know when there is another pandemic around the corner that might take your child(ten) away from you.

On that note…I think I will do some deep breathing, perhaps meditate, and go for a bike ride. I think this blog post has helped me, but that last bit raised my stress level a bit and it’s time for some self-care.

Be well and safe everyone, and try to not verbally attack people just because your stress level is high. Wave at people as you walk/bike/scooter past them from 6+ feet away. Smile!!! A smile can go a long way. We will get through this.

LET THEM PLAY!!!!!! Playtime helps to lower their stress levels, and besides, happiness is awesome!

LET THEM PLAY!!!!!! Playtime helps to lower their stress levels, and besides, happiness is awesome!

If you can't say anything nice...

Margaret Atwood so blatantly and eloquently taught us (like she always does with her writings), “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” (Lady Oracle). Even Thumper shared that lesson in Bambi yet it is only lately that I’ve been trying to adhere to it in order to not go through the roof with anger and frustration towards those I clearly disagree with on most moral fronts. I need to just bite my tongue and move on…maybe.

I believe in having an opinion, and I believe in standing up for what is right. Lately, since a large-ass number of individuals think they are right all the time, even when they are blatantly making choices and moving through life based purely on conservative religious grounds that are misogynistic and xenophobic, or those who are making decisions purely for greedy and hateful platforms geared toward attaining power, this has been a difficult time for me to keep quiet. I’m not saying I’m going to smile while keeping my mouth shut, but sometimes I should just let the person go, knowing full well that the IQ and heart of that individual have no capability of understanding and changing. I also do not value their opinions (because I have no respect for them), so I block out their words, and focus my breath, sanity, and joy on what is actually important—my family. When I do need to respond I am going to try to state facts, share my opinion kindly, and try to not voice the karma-inflicting cartoon-like situations that flash through my head whenever a Nutball opens his/her mouth on how there’s no global warming, or how Trump and his goons are the best for our country/wallets. Even though my thoughts are quite entertaining, I will share them only with my wife…or maybe even through this blog, but not with the idiot standing in front of me. They are not worth it.

We are scared for good reasons, and a lot of people’s anxiety is through the roof due to the fears of possible future events that should only occur in dystopian fiction. Thumper said, “If you’re scared, just be scarier than whatever is scaring you!” Now I don’t know how scary a cute Disney rabbit can be, but it’s also some good advice. We need to play a smarter game of political chess and focus on gaining back more government offices that are run by people who actually respect others and are there to do a job for the people, not just to push through their illogical, greedy, and hateful agenda. Our dreams of a peaceful, accepting, and loving society scare the shit out of those who enjoy border walls, a country without Planned Parenthood, and women quietly being submissive towards the men in their lives. It’s time for them to be scared.

It is up to us to stand tall against the wrong-doings and ill-will that is taking place towards others, and towards our planet. Make decisions that will positively affect your life, the lives of others around you, and the environment. VOTE. Not just for you, but for those who are too young to vote, and who our decisions greatly affect. And if you happen to come face-to-face with a belligerent asshole who refuses to show you some humanity, you can politely tell that person to “fuck off” with a smile on your face, and move on towards the voting booth. I’m sure Margaret Atwood would approve.

I vote for these two, and the bright future I want them to enjoy on our precious earth.

I vote for these two, and the bright future I want them to enjoy on our precious earth.

The dryer is my new drawer

Life with two kids. Oh…so many things…so little time.

We have a load of clothes that have been in the dryer since last Thursday night. I refuse to go out with the laundry basket and get the whole load. (Our washer and dryer are in the garage. Just a clue as to how small our house is.) Each night I go out and grab what we need only for the next day, leaving the remaining clothes behind. My goal is to not have to fold that pile of clothes and just go straight into wearing it as needed. We don’t have tons of clothes (especially underwear), so I’m thinking I might accomplish this goal.

My next goal is to get our oldest to sleep all night in his own bed. Wait…I don’t see us achieving that goal too soon in the near future.

I should pick an easier goal…

My new goal is to see if our youngest likes sorbet as much as his brother, and doesn’t require a bath after eating it. Now that’s a goal that we’ll enjoy going for.

It’s the little wins that keep us sane.

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Lacking

 Please forgive the lack of blog posts from me. This whole… Getting pregnant… Giving birth… Caring for a little one and a toddler these past few months… Well, my creative drive just was, and continues to be, nonexistent. I’d like to blame the hormone roller coaster, but I honestly think my creativity went into hibernation because my body needed to focus purely on me and my family.  

I am beginning to get small bursts of ideas that I think I should write a blog on, but those bursts are simply just bursts. Perhaps I can equate them to a male tween’s first ejaculation. I think. I honestly don’t know, nor do I want to know. They are simply fleeting, and by the time I grab a pen and paper...they’re just gone.

Another wonderful gift with pregnancy and childbirth is the inability to TALK. I can barely focus long enough to hold a conversation with somebody. It’s quite sad actually. I know it’s just my brain still in pregnancy mode. Except for surviving daily and making sure I leave every location with an infant in my arms, I am apparently not supposed to heed anything else. 

I am actually ok with this. I know things will come back in due time. I don’t feel guilty, nor sad, and I have never been one to suffer FOMO. I don’t care that I am missing out on events because I truly just want to either be home, or running on a trail.

So this is just simply a short explanation, not even an apology. I guess I shouldn’t be asking you to forgive me then. Which means you should scratch out the first sentence in this post.

Until my creativity returns...

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White Gold

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I would like to introduce you to the newest member of our family, and our second-born son, who within 6 weeks has perfected the art of light sleeping (Seriously—half the time he sleeps with one eye open!). It’s quite an amazing accomplishment. He’s already surpassed my abilities at light sleeping, and I’ve had 39 years of stress to aide me. Perhaps it was the brief stint on the pediatric floor of the hospital days 14-16 of his life due to RSV that aided his leap into 24-7 wakefulness except for bouts of 20 minute snoozing. Those alarms on the machines that tracked his vitals went off constantly, jerking me out of any sort of snooze, and I’m sure it fucked up any sort of sleep pattern he might have begun.

Or perhaps his wakeful state is fueled by his stomach constantly alerting his brain to alert his vocal cords to scream, thereby alerting my breasts to produce white gold to start flowing and soak the fourth shirt I’ve put on for the day because he demands to be fed every two hours. (Yes, you people might refer to aioli as white gold, but to those of us with a newborn, breast milk or formula is white gold.) His feeding frenzy has him in the 3-month weight class for crib MMA, and he’s only 6 weeks old!! Egads…we need to buy life insurance.

I went on Amazon to purchase a goat for the backyard the other night at 1:22AM and found out that Amazon does NOT sell goats. Perhaps that’s a good thing. I purchased $300 worth of formula instead to supplement the white gold in order to help stave off this kid’s hunger cries because I absolutely can not produce enough to keep up. (If you have an opinion here, please keep it to yourself. Lack of sleep has whittled away at my ability to hold my tongue even more then I typically would try.) The next night my wife rented the SNOO to help with lengthening his sleep. That was at 11:33PM. WE ARE DESPERATE.

He can’t keep this every two-hour feeding schedule up forever, right? I mean, at some point his teeth will come in and we can feed him a whole pizza, thereby perhaps getting three or four hours of uninterrupted sleep. It’s important to maintain hope. Until then…I need black gold…COFFEE.

Our Promise to You

I have been sitting on this blog post for weeks now. It has taken me a while to figure out how to write what I have so easily been able to recount in conversations with others as I recap the day we had the ultrasound that revealed the sex of our baby. It’s easy to share not just because I enjoy telling the story, but because typically this conversation is with someone who feels the same way we do on a lot of life’s topics.

After being pregnant for a certain number of weeks, at the start of each appointment, every nurse, medical assistant, janitor, coffee barista, and doctor would ask if we already knew the sex of our baby, and if we didn’t know, whether or not we would like to know. These questions are asked with such clarity and eye contact you immediately understand that each of them has fucked up at one time or another and let slip the sex of the baby to a mother-to-be when she obviously, for some weird reason or another, wanted to be surprised. (For those of you who want to be surprised, please stop. It drives the medical staff crazy trying to not let slip the news for fear that a crazy pregnant woman will attack them in their sleep. So just give everyone a break and find out the sex early. If you want to keep a secret, don’t tell anyone the name you’ve picked out for the baby.)

Okay…moving on. During that “reveal” ultrasound, when the tech finally got the ultrasound head on the right spot of my growing belly, and the baby just happened to turn the right way for us to see everything, she told us (although we could clearly see) that we were having a baby boy (the blood test results confirmed this two weeks later). We were thrilled, slapped each other a high-five, and after I exhaled a sigh of relief exclaimed, “Yea! Less chance of our child being raped.” The ultrasound tech was at first a bit shocked, but within seconds she nodded her head and sadly agreed, claiming she is also a bit relieved that she has two sons herself and that’s one worry off the table.

Here’s the sad thing—my exclamation rings true not just because of the #MeToo Movement, but because women have been, and continue to be, sexually harassed and assaulted by men. Here’s the next thing. It’s horrible, but due to the current white male supremacist-nationalist group claiming that it’s a scary time to be a white man, we promise you that as parents—MOTHERS!!—we will not raise rapists. In fact, when my wife was pregnant with our oldest son she promised him that she was going to teach him how to respect women and that she would make sure he knows to not rape anybody. (Why she didn’t include me in this in-utero promise, I have no idea, but I am definitely making sure I’m included in the same promise to our second-born who is currently in-utero as well.) 

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Our sons will be raised only knowing respect for women (especially), men, non-gendered people, animals, and the Earth. They will be role models for other humans. You would think that this would be an easy task—just raise your kid(s) according to the Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” However, given that 1 in 3 women are sexually assaulted, there are MILLIONS of parents who failed to raise their sons well. And no, if your son was academically, athletically, and vocationally successful, that does not make him a good human if he treats other humans, especially women, like shit. Lives mean nothing to your son if he fails to treat all humans (except Nazis) with the same respect he feels he deserves. Or even the same respect he’d want people to give his own mother.  

Our sons will be far from perfect, as each of us are, but they will definitely NOT sexually harass or assault women, men, nor non-gendered people. They will stand and provide solidarity to those they witness being harassed/assaulted. They will not laugh and jump on the bed like some jackasses have. Their actions will be a shining example for all humanity. I only hope that other parents accept this onus as well. 

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Differences in the Womb

It’s October, and I’m currently 19 weeks pregnant. The ultrasound on Friday went well, and our baby boy looked healthy and good...until the 3D ultrasound imaging. That’s when we asked if we could trade him in for a Bulldog puppy. Luckily they switched back to the 2D imaging pics and we felt more comfortable keeping him. 

We keep trying to explain to our 2 year-old son that he has a baby brother on the way; that he’s growing in my belly; and that he needs to stop kicking my belly and practicing his wrestling moves on my belly. It’s not clicking yet. I get that he is only two years old, and granted, minus his Mama getting fatter, he really has no visible signs. It’s not like we’re going to the shelter and looking at different babies to choose which one we want to take home. And when he was with us at the fertility doctor’s office we pointed to the room where his siblings are stored as frozen embryos and we said to wave “bye bye” to them, which he did, but we know he doesn’t get it. Hell...half the time we don’t get it! I’m sure that when he visits the baby and I in the hospital it still isn’t going to click that the baby is going to be living with us. It won’t be until we come home from the hospital, we’ve all finished getting ready for bed and have clicked the lights off when he’ll realize that his life has changed and he’s a big brother. That might possibly be the time that he and Lincoln agree on something, and loudly state together, “Fuck!!” 

We noticed an obvious difference in how our second-born behaves in the womb and how our first-born behaved. Our oldest looked like we had given him cocaine whenever he was having an ultrasound. This baby, except for some shifting of limbs to increase his comfort, stays in the fetal position with his bodily expression screaming, “Don’t look at me!” It’s fascinating the difference in the two, even this early on. We look forward to seeing other differences and similarities in the future. For now, we’ll give our firstborn full attention for his remaining time as an only child. 😁

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