Monday, June 30, 2008

If You Go Down to the Woods Today...

The title of this post is from a song I loved as a child. I hope Baby Bear is going to like it too, though I seem to have lost the tape that played it (and come to think of it, we don't have any devices that play tapes in our house anyway).

The reason for the title, however, is that the Bears are coming to town today. (The song is Teddy Bear Picnic, and it's kind of scary, considering we're talking about teddy bears and not real bears in the song....Google the lyrics, they're kind of ominous.) I'm excited about their arrival, because they are, quite honestly, the best in-laws anyone could ever ask for. And I'm not saying that because I think they might read this blog, because they don't even know about it. So there. I'm saying it because it's true.

Grandpa and Grandma Bear are the hardest working folks you'll ever meet. They never stop asking what they can do, or better yet, just figuring out what needs to be done and doing it. Grandpa Bear reminds me in many ways of my father.

My father, Baby Bear's grandpa who he will never get to meet, was the exact same way. I remember vividly the day he came to visit and I asked how to fix a drawer that was off its tracks. Instead of doing it himself, he told me how I could do it. I remember feeling proud, but strangely sad about that interaction. I was proud thinking that he now viewed me as such a grown-up that he wanted me to do it myself, and sad thinking that somehow that made me less his baby.

I now know, looking at the dates of that visit, that he was beginning to lose his fight with cancer at that point. This was the reason he did not offer to fix the drawer, because the fight his body was raging against itself just left him too damn tired. That was the turning point, the beginning of the end, and from that point forward, it was only through his sheer determination that he fought it off.

He fought because I was to graduate later that year, and nothing was going to make him miss that. I was his baby, and I was accomplishing something no one in our family had. Not because of lack of drive or discipline, or intelligence, but because I had far more opportunity and privilege than any family member before me. That was his doing, so I thank whoever was responsible for letting him see the fruits of his labor that year.

I do miss him though, often more when the Bears are in town, thinking of how many wonderful and amazing things could be done in our house with my father and Grandpa Bear working together. We'd likely have a swimming pool, or an addition, or at least a basement that doesn't leak water in strange places. I know he's watching though, and will be through all of what is to come for Mama Bear and me in the next few weeks.

And I know he'll be watching Baby Bear throughout his entire life. When I was a kid in Catholic school (again, two mentions in two posts!) they told us we had guardian angels to watch over us. They never explained who these people were, and I found it slightly troubling that some randomly assigned angel was deciding what I should and shouldn't do. I mean, where was the line between my free will and their helpful guiding hand? How did the assigner of the guardian angels know how to match us up? Did I get a gay one? The questions went on and on (much to the chagrin of religion teachers).

Guardian angels are not high on the list of my beliefs, but I do believe that those who have truly loved us, and gone before us to wherever it is we go, keep an eye on those of us who are still back here. I will sometimes catch myself thanking my Dad when I remember something important, or narrowly miss some calamity or another, or have something really great happen. And if I know my father at all, he'll certainly be looking out for Baby Bear.

So, with the Bears here in the everyday, and my dad looking on from afar, you should be just fine Baby Bear. Just fine. Despite the fact that Mama Bear and I may not know the slightest bit about choosing a baby monitor (?!?! have you ever seen the choices available?) or actually putting those cloth diapers on a human baby. Honestly, it will be okay. But now, it's time for me to get moving, so I can be ready for the cavalcade of projects that is a visit from my in-laws.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Ready or Not, Here He Comes!

I'm not sure that this blog should start yet, as the true reason for it won't be here for at least a few more weeks, but I'm still typing, so I guess it will, whether I'm sure or not. That's quite an apt way to start for this subject, since our family is about to change in much the same way. Here he comes, ready or not. I suppose I should explain all of this, lest this blog become some sort of Virgina Woolf "To the Lighthouse"-esque in media res exercise in literary devices. (Ohhh, I love it when that English major my father found questionable comes in handy for sentences like that!!) So without further ado, it begins....

I am a soon to be lesbian mama of what I suspect will be a brutally handsome baby boy. I suspect this, because my partner, who we will call Mama Bear, is, quite honestly, the must beautiful and glowing pregnant woman ever, save for possibly the Virgin Mary. (Before you get all up in arms and suspect I am some Bible-thumping homo, you should know something. I'm a recovering Catholic-14 years clean-but some old habits die hard, so when I refer to all things Catholic, know that it is not in any sort of devout way). Mama Bear resembles one particular old-time movie beauty, and has an amazing laugh and perfectly proportioned features, so I'm glad she's donating half of her DNA to this fellow, because he's bound to be a heartbreaker.

But let's get back to the point, shall we? And that point was me. Me, the most amazingly lucky dyke, who in a few weeks will get to see Mama Bear bring this little man into our home, and watch as her pregnancy glow changes into the glow of a thoroughly exhausted but, I suspect, ecstatically happy new Mama Bear.

So our family is about to change in ways I'm sure we can't even imagine. Or might not want to. Or may be unable to due to some survival instinct adaptation of the species that won't let you know what you're in for, because if you did no one would ever give birth. Who knows, but I do know it's about to change.

This weekend, however, is Pride, and Mama Bear and I have a lot to be proud of. We've both overcome a fair number of obstacles in our day, and have both worked hard to get to a place where we enjoy our jobs (most days) and are doing something we each love. We have some great pets and a great family on the Bear side, despite what that Goldilocks story may have you believe. We have a great home that we will actually own in 28 or so years (why do people say they own their homes? No you don't, the bank owns your home, you rent from the bank), and on many days, that home is filled with friends and neighbors that we love like family.

All in all, we have a lot to be proud of, but this will be the last year we are not "proud parents." It's strange and wonderful and exciting and scary and crazy-making to contemplate that, especially given that I often feel as if college was yesterday and that someone should really be paying closer attention to me, lest I hurt myself. But, someone, somewhere, saw fit to send those $300+ per vial sperm hurtling into Mama Bear's egg about 9 months ago, so we'll be the ones paying attention quite soon.

I don't know what I intend to do with this blog, but I feel like it's important to get thoughts and pictures all together some place, so that this little man can someday look and know how very much he is loved. Some of my own larger obstacles grew from a place of not knowing that, so this guy, my guy, is going to know that better than anything, and starting even now, before he confirms that handsomeness that I know is on the way. So, sit back and get ready, because things are about to change, ready or not.