Liza

Politically Inclined Lesbian Mommy Blogger & Bibliophile

Happy National Coming Out Day – 2011

 2 Mom Family, Opinion, Personal  2 Responses »
Oct 112011
 

Happy National Coming Out Day, Everyone!

I’ve been thinking a lot about being out, and why being out matters, and for that matter, why it matters that I am a lesbian, and in particular, a lesbian parent.

There are times when I hate National Coming Out Day. Sometimes I feel like its a day when I “should” come out, even when there isn’t a good context, and it will be awkward, and I don’t wanna and you can’t make me. I know that’s me doing my thing — there are no Lesbian Police checking to see if I’ve made my coming out quota or anything like that.

And quite frankly, fear of awkwardness isn’t a very good reason not to come out. Fear for my safety, fear for my kids, fear for consequences that really matter — those might be good reasons. Awkwardness is just awkwardness, and life is full of awkwardness.

And being out really does matter. Why else would there be more than 1800 It Gets Better videos, and almost half a million people who have pledged to help it get better? It is a lot easier to be scared, and to believe scary stereotypes or rumors about people when you don’t know anyone “like that” — or don’t think you do. And while there certainly are LGBTQIA people who run the full gamut from “ordinary” to “extremely unusual,” once straight people know that they know someone LGBTQIA, their attitudes nearly always change. It’s hard to be scared of someone who sits two cubes over when you hear them kvetch about their boyfriend the same way you do, or someone at the school playground whose kids exasperate them exactly the same way yours exasperate you. Or to think that someone you know from a volunteer program, is really that different from you, after you see them survive and rebuild after having their heart broken.

When straight people see LGBTQIA people, whom they know to be LGBTQIA, in our full humanity, it makes a difference.

Why should anyone care?

In theory, they should not. No one should care who other people date, are attracted to, love, or with whom they build families.

But in reality, some people care.

Our government cares.

And if I want to change their minds, coming out is step one.

I do want to change their minds. Partly for me, but more for my kids. Right now, they still accept that some families have two mommies, some have a mommy and a daddy, some might have two daddies, or even just one parent. But over time, that matter-of-fact quality will not work as well as it does now.

The idea that someone might try to make Noah or Josie feel ashamed of being part of our family…it breaks my heart.

So…I am out. As much as I can be. Every day.

(But I still try to prevent it from being too awkward.)

 

 

 Posted by Liza at 8:26 pm

Education at the Doctor’s Office (and not just for me)

 2 Mom Family, Baba-Mamas, The Real Live Girl  7 Responses »
Sep 202011
 

Let me preface this by saying it: I love my doctor. She is one of my closest friends. She is the kids doctor, and also my mom’s doctor. We’ve been friends since we were 12. Noah would move into her house if we let him.

We are not her typical patients. She works for a community health center, which is code for “health care for poor people.” Obviously, her choices and values are part of what we love about her. The quality of care is just as good as it was when she was in private practice, but there are no toys in the waiting area, there’s a guard in the entry, and today was the only time I’ve ever noticed another white patient waiting. (There are often attractively dressed, perfectly made-up white women around the waiting area, but they are pharmaceutical company reps.) Sometimes it takes a ridiculous amount of time for a nurse to return a “can we get in today?” call, leading us to have a close relationship with the neighborhood Urgent Care receptionist as well. Apparently, when you are uninsured, you have to spend a lot of time waiting.

Today was Josie’s 3 year old checkup. (For the record, she is perfectly healthy, 39″ tall, weighs 35.2 lbs, and is almost exactly on the 50th percentile line for 4 year old girls in height.)

The nurses were lovely — Josie didn’t even cry at her shot. (We had missed a vaccination last time; they were out of what we needed.)

But the support staff is still learning about a few things — like families that are not quite typical.

The discussion started like this:

Receptionist: Are you her mom?
Me: I’m one of her moms.
R (looking alarmed): Are you her legal guardian?
Me: Yes.
R: Are you her birth mom?
Me (looking stunned): I don’t think that’s any of your business. Why are you asking?
R: Legally, I’m required to ask that.
Me: What? No you aren’t. I am her legal parent. What difference does it make whether or not I’m her birth mom, or she’s adopted?
R: I have to make sure you are authorized.
Me: What? Why don’t you talk to Dr. Tully? She can assure you that I can authorize medical care for Josie.
R: She’s with a patient. You’ll have to wait.
Me: That’s fine.

A few minutes later, Josie was summoned by the nurse. We were about to take off her shoes so she could get weighed, when the receptionist announced that we were NOT checked in yet and should not be taken to an exam room. The nurse looked confused, so I explained, “We’re having a dispute over whether or not it is any of her business whose vagina Josie came from.”

The 4 or 5 women staff in the immediate vicinity began to buzz. Josie and I returned to the waiting area. The receptionist and I went back and forth a few more times. (My main point became, “The terms ‘birth mom,’ and ‘parent,’ and ‘legal guardian’ are not synonyms.”) I knew that if I caved and said, “Yes, I am her birth mom,” things would move along more quickly. But someday, Jill will be the parent at the doctor’s office. And sometimes, other parents in 2 mom or 2 dad families will come there too. So I stood my ground, unwilling to answer the question.

(Let us also leave aside the apparent weakness of the receptionist’s powers of observation. The fact that I am this child’s biological parent is so obvious as to be remarked upon by strangers in parking lots. But that is not the point.)

Eventually Josie was weighed and measured, her blood pressure was taken, and she had charmed and been charmed by a lovely nurse.

Not long after that, Madelaine arrived. She had already seen my Facebook status update, which noted my love for her and lack of love for her support staff. She had spoken to the receptionist about what happened, and explained to her and why “are you the birth mother?” wasn’t the right question. Madelaine arrived and immediately conveyed the receptionist’s contrition.

Some days it is harder to feel like the Ambassador from Planet Lesbian Mom than other days.

 Posted by Liza at 9:08 pm

Best. Meatballs. Ever.

 Mmm yummy  No Responses »
Sep 152011
 

When I was in Istanbul last summer, I had a meat dish at the Hamdi Restaurant that was, I think, the second most delicious meat dish I have ever eaten. (After my Oma’s roladen.)

It was kebab made with minced beef and lamb, and pistachios, and magical deliciousness. It was so good that I insisted on returning to the restaurant again later in the week, so I could eat it again.

Yesterday, I stopped at the co-op for milk, and noticed that they had fresh, local, ground lamb. And pistachios. And, of course, good ground beef.

So I bought those things, and attempted to recreate this amazing delicious dish.

I have a few disadvantages, like having no idea what spices were in it, and not having a grill. Or skewers. But I do have the Internet. I found a few not-quite-right dishes, most helpfully including a Jamie Oliver lamb meatball with pistachios recipe.

Here is what I did instead.

Liza’s Turkish Meatballs, aka the Best Meatballs Ever

Ingredients:

  • 1 pound each of ground lamb and ground beef (I used chuck).
  • 1 cup salted, shelled pistachios
  • 2 eggs
  • ~20 saltine crackers
  • 1.5 tablespoons cumin
  • 1 tablespoon cinnamon
  • 1 teaspoon lemon zest (dried)
  • 1 tiny pinch red pepper flakes

First, I dumped all of the pistachios into a marble mortar & pestle that we got for our wedding and hardly use anymore. This was a bad idea — some got pulverized, others barely cracked. Next time I will do it in 2 or 3 batches. The goal is crushed, not pulverized, think “ice cream topping” size bits.

After they were crushed, I dumped the pistachios in a large glass bowl. (Also a wedding present.)

Then I crushed the red pepper, which was tricky given the minute volume. I should have thrown in a cracker or two. Dump. Followed by the rest of the spices. And although I listed amounts above, I didn’t measure any of them. I cook by shaking out spices until I think that’s about right. It mostly works, although I recommend measuring salt. Or adding it one small shake at a time. What I wrote above is my best guess of the volume.

Then I crushed the crackers in two batches, and dumped them too.

(Crushing things with a mortar & pestle is fun — I highly recommend it!)

The eggs went in last. When everything is in the bowl, plunge your hands into the gooey meat mixture and squeeze everything together in a sort of knead-squeeze-knead-squeeze pattern until you can’t see different kinds of meat or identifiable bits of egg, and the spices seem more or less evenly distributed. For me, that takes about 3 minutes. If you are squicked out by all the meat texture, it might take longer.

That’s when I remembered that I hadn’t preheated the oven, so I washed my hands, and turned the oven to 385.

Next, I took out 2 cookie sheets and sprayed them with a tiny bit of cooking oil, which turned out to be completely unnecessary.

I made oblong meatballs that were about the length and width of two fingers. This recipe made 25 of them. I cooked them for 15 minutes, but thought they needed a little bit more time, so left them in for 18 minutes total. They were beautifully browned and delicious when I took them out, and Jill and I each ate one immediately.

They aren’t QUITE as fabulously wonderful and magically delicious as the ones I ate in Istanbul, but they are very good, and I am very happy with the results of my Turkish Meatballs.

(Next: Will the kids eat them?)

 Posted by Liza at 4:12 pm  Tagged with: , , , , , , , , ,

First Day of School 2011

 2 Mom Family, Personal, The Real Live Boy, The Real Live Girl  2 Responses »
Sep 012011
 

2011 First Day Mosaic

Today was the first day that BOTH Noah and Josie are in “Big Kid” school — or for those of you who speak Montessori, Children’s House. Josie is in 3-year-old kindergarten, and Noah is in 5-year-old kindergarten. They are in different classrooms, but in the same school and similar groups of children.

As I told Facebook:

I really thought that The First Day of School was going to be no big deal. The kids were there for summer program until 10 days ago! Josie spent afternoons in the very Big Kid classroom that is now hers. So wrong. Noah tried to hide behind me instead of greeting his teacher — the same one for the last 2 years. Josie sobbed. And when I bent down to comfort her, I split my pants.

That’s right. I split my pants on their first day of school.

And as Jill told Facebook, I was wearing orange undies. (What can I say? I like bright colors. And I didn’t expect anyone to see them!)

Mercifully, I carry a large purse, which I was able to sling over my shoulder and back, and butt, without it looking completely weird. Or at least without it looking so weird that anyone commented on it. And I was able to comfort Josie, who was fine within a few minutes after we left.

And Josie continues on her current mission to do EVERYTHING her brother does.

 Posted by Liza at 7:16 pm

Noah is 5 and a Half

 Letters to Noah  No Responses »
Aug 092011
 

Running at State Fair Dear Noah,

You will be 5 years and 6 months old tomorrow. You are slightly obsessed with people’s ages, and with the difference between “X and a half” vs “X and a whole.” For example, in your mind, kids can’t start the next grade at school until they are “X and a half.” The fact that Josie will start 3-K just 2 days after her 3rd birthday is driving you crazy. You didn’t get to start 3-K until you were 3 and a half, and when you turned 4, you were bitterly disappointed that you were not immediately part of the 4-K class.

Last night, you began to ask exactly when you were going to be 5 and a half, and were very happy that the answer was “Wednesday.” I didn’t tell you that I’ve been thinking of you as 5 and a half for most of the summer. Rounding is a mathematical concept you don’t seem to quite grasp yet.

These days, you remain passionately into Legos. You love building elaborate space ships, and peculiar cyborgesque people with 9 heads, and smaller personal vehicles for them to ride. You also enjoy drawing, making things with play-dough, fishing with Jill, running, jumping, and reading. In reading, you are torn between a love of science — especially books about snakes, lizards, dinosaurs, and space — and exciting stories. We’ve recently been reading a book of Disney adventure tales, like Robin Hood and Aladdin. However, you prefer us to read to you, rather than you reading to us. This is a change since the school year ended — and one I miss. I loved having you read to us. Starting next month, you’ll be taking Taekwondo — you managed to break a board in your very first class! They offer family classes, which we are considering doing together.

This summer, you are one of the “big bodies” in the summer program. The oldest child there, Evan, has declared you to be his brother. This makes his mom and I giggle when we hear either of you say it. Josie is not amused. She doesn’t seem to want another brother. Strangely, you both get annoyed when the bad guy in the Spiderman vs Lizard uses the word “brothers” to describe the reptiles at the zoo, and identify that as a lie.

You’ve begun announcing that various friends are losing their teeth. I hope you aren’t sad that none of yours seem loose yet. Your first baby teeth grew in late, compared to many of your age-peers. And I didn’t lose my first baby tooth until I was 7. You and Josie will probably be similarly slow to grow your permanent teeth.

In terms of your personality, 5 and a half is quite a mix! From moment to moment, you might be helpful, whiny, stubborn, loving, clingy, independent, pseudo-babyish, or pseudo-parentish. In your clingy moments, you like to touch me with as much of your body as you can manage, especially pressing your feet to me and wrapping your fingers around my upper arms. Those are not my favorite moves — especially your feet. I love to have you snuggle next to me, most of the time. (While sitting with Josie in the hot sun, on the asphalt, at State Fair, was not one of those times.) But we are actively negotiating what works for a big kid and a mommy, and that physical space is different from a baby or toddler and a mommy.

I can’t wait to see what the next school year brings, and how you continue to grow and develop.

I love you.

Love,

That Mommy

 Posted by Liza at 5:50 am

Wish Us Luck

 Personal  No Responses »
Aug 032011
 

The month of August is going to be a crazy one around here.

Jill leaves today for a work detail — shorter than her usual ones, but still 2 weeks of her being away.

While she’s gone, Madelaine and I are taking all 4 of our kids to a Renaissance Fair, we have a trip to Chicago (where Jill will meet us) to celebrate her birthday at a WNBA game, and hang out with lots of friends. Also, the State Fair runs from this week through next, and last year we promised Noah we would go this year. I’m still not sure exactly how that’s going to work.

Just after she gets back, Jill is taking Noah to Washington DC for a 3-day weekend with This Grandma & This Grandpa. Instead of coming home, they will meet us in Florida for an extended family trip to Disney World for a week. We come home to my classes starting, but two days needing day care for Noah and Josie, before Josie’s actual birthday, and then the start of school September 1.

I am tired just thinking about it.

 Posted by Liza at 9:19 am

Josie is 2 Years and 11 Months Old

 Letters to Josie  1 Response »
Jul 292011
 

Dear Josie,

Today Tomorrow you will be two years and 11 months old. I can’t believe you are almost 3. Sometimes you are so sweet, and you have become so independent. For several days in the last week, you’ve instructed me to stay downstairs, while you go upstairs and get dressed all by yourself.

And at the same time, you have firmly and irrevocably entered the developmental stage that we call “threevil.” If we open a door you wanted to open, pick up a napkin you meant to pick up, or otherwise don’t read your mind and let you do what you want to do, you melt down completely, screaming, crying, and throwing things.

Most of what you want to do is anything that Noah is doing.

That means you often demand to “read” — hold the book, repeat what you remember of the story, or describe the pictures. Other times, you chase Noah, you try to “dance” the way he dances, or fight with him over some toy.

When Noah is not around, you love to sing the alphabet, count, draw pictures, play with play-doh, “be the singer,” take baths, read or be read to, and eat your own body weight in blueberries, raspberries, or strawberries.

This summer, you are the big girl in the toddler classroom. But in about a month, you will be one of the “small bodies” in “big kid school.” I think it will be a shock to your system, but really good for you. I hope it will discourage your habit of talking in baby talk.

The next month, before you actually turn 3, is going to be a little crazy and stressful. This Mommy will be traveling for work, we’ll all be visiting Chicago and going to a basketball game and a weekend-long visit with friends and celebration of This Mommy’s birthday. Just after she gets home from her work trip, This Mommy and Noah will go away for a long weekend, then we’ll meet them — and Grandma & Grandpa, and Aunt Anna, Uncle Jason, and your cousins, at Disney World! We’ll celebrate your birthday a few days early, while we’re there.

You are such a sweet, smart, beautiful, lively, charming little girl, at least most of the time. And This Mommy and I love you very, very, very much.

love,

That Mommy

 Posted by Liza at 8:36 pm
 Older Entries  Newer Entries
© 2012 LizaWasHere Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha