Archive for December, 2009

Pointless update?

December 29, 2009

Still here, still queer, still used to it.

Been overrun with facebook requests to come visit us from people I have not seen in like 15 years.It’s hard as I haven’t been home in four or five years and prefer to spend time with family, but don’t want to make people feel bad!!  I am tastefully ignoring them. Except Tatiana – I don’t have your phone number! I also am not getting online  much.

We leave for Country B next Sunday, and are At The Location here in Country A until then. Will fb you my mom’s number as I don’t have yours! My mother is anti-company, I’m afraid, and already asking why someone would drive from Country C (ever notice the initials, Tatiana? I only just realised…) to Country A to visit us, and I’m like dude, because it’s easier than driving to Country B? Ok. Not sure if I have Country A and Country B the right way round anymore. Whatever…

Have to go now as we are packing up baby bags – taking Coconut and Snort to meet my crazy ass father. When they meet him, I’ll say, ‘This is the old man you will probably only see once every few years for a few hours. Yeah. Play nice.’


The eagle has landed

December 25, 2009

We’re here- went through immigration (accidentally) as a lesbian family. No problems, but suspect that is because the officer didn’t know what I meant by “partner.”

On my sister’s phone so need to run. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. Or, you know, good afternoon.

Everyday miracles.

December 18, 2009

Curved from both sides, a little bit lumpy and a little bit smooth

the day before you both came out from under my heart.

And when you came, carefully birthed from the cut in my

stomach, I really couldn’t comprehend where

these two beautiful children

had come from.

Such beautiful twins, they said, such a good size.

So healthy, they said, so wonderful.

We just looked at you

and our hearts delighted.

Now you grow, grow, change every day

into curious, happy, wondering little people.

I carry you both now, tucked against me, curled against my back, my front.

Tiny little sighs puff against my neck, a cheek rests on my breasts.

I sometimes look at you and think, Can this be real?

Are you mine, ours? Are we yours?

Rounded from both sides, a little bit lumpy and a little bit smooth

this day as I wonder at my body.

Each stretch, each tear, each kick I felt as you pressed against

my skin

from the inside out.

This time last year we had just found out you were

inside me. Your hearts started to beat the day after Christmas.

This year, you are here.

Yes, you are here.

Lesbian bicontinental mummies.

December 16, 2009

What’s on my mind tonight? Immigration.

When we set foot on the soil of Country A this weekend, a lot is at stake. A ‘normal’ family would just pick the ‘citizens’ or ‘foreign nationals’ line and line up together. Fill in one form.

Us? I am a citizen of Country A and Country B, as are the babies. TMD is only a citizen of Country B, as Country A is a giant big fat redneck ho-down of ignorance in terms of gay rights. Country A can actually refuse her entry into its hallowed fields of grain, etc etc as she is legally married to little ol’ me. (With a legality that is erased and unrecognised by the unbelievable arrogance of the federal laws of Country A.)

Before we had children, we would separate at the immigration lines without being coupley at all. We went through our independent lines. I was never questioned about anything regarding relationships, though I faced a fair number of questions like this: Why don’t you want to live in our great country? What is wrong with it? Why would you choose to live somewhere else? I’ve had my bags ripped apart, I’ve been shamelessly flirted with by male customs and immigration men, I have been questioned and had my answers recorded into their giant database thing.

TMD has had the odd question as well. Coming here for Christmas – what, aren’t your family mad about that? You’ve been in this country a lot recently….why is that? Do you have a boyfriend here?

I have felt belittled and angry about having to be closeted at all. I have no shame about myself, my wife, and our family. But I’ve kept my mouth shut because, well, sometimes that is easier, particularly when the people you are talking to have guns and shiny badges.

With children, things get a lot more complicated. For me, I’ll be asked to prove that I have the right to be taking them abroad on my own – I suspect this will be a bigger issue on the return trip home rather than going into that country, but still. The issue is there. I’ll be asked who I’m travelling with, as I’m actually not able to fly alone with two four month old babies.  We both have full parental responsibility for Snort and Coconut, which makes things even messier. TMD and I do not want to lie. But we don’t want to overshare, either.

I was supposed to be in a wheelchair in both airports, but have decided I will probably try to walk in Country A. This means I can go alone through the citizens immigration line with the babies and TMD can go through the foreign nationals line. Hopefully no one will want to fuck around with me too much, as I will have two babies and a giant ass twin stroller (we need it for the car seats!).

We shouldn’t have to have conversations about whether we should split up or go through as a family. We shouldn’t know that to go through as a family is inviting questions at best, TMD being detained or deported at worst. We shouldn’t be planning all of the documents we will need – including TMD getting a letter stating that she has a full time job over here and is due back at work on 5 January.

TMD shouldn’t be crying because she is scared that somehow, the unthinkable will happen and she will have to spend Christmas alone. (Incidentally, we would fly back with her…assuming they would make provision to find the babies and me seats…but why would they, if they were already fine with not recognizing us as a family?)

I shouldn’t be angry about the fact that only a few years from now, the babies won’t be babies any more and we’re going to have some tough discussions about why immigration is so different here in our home as compared to Country A.

While I know it’s very unlikely either of us will be questioned that much, and that there is no way they could stop her entering – we have a life in this country, a mortgage, full time jobs, she’s clearly not looking to make an illegal and lifelong move to The Country That Time Forgot – it’s still upsetting and scary. I won’t get my wheelchair, true, but what’s a million times more important is that we are going to be treated as less than a fully human family.

So fuck you, Country A.

Babywearing of the last couple of weeks…

December 14, 2009

Don’t claim to be an expert, do claim to be creative in (tandem) times of need…

This first picture is of both babies in one wrap. A wrap is a wide, very long piece of fabric. I prefer woven wraps, but this is a semi-stretchy one. I got this because it’s apparently hot shit for tandem (two kids) wearing, but I don’t actually like it all that much. Still, it cuts a pretty picture:

Next up, I had Snort in one woven wrap on my front when Coconut started fussing. I didn’t know what to do, so I grabbed a ringsling and, well, slung her next to him. This was surprisingly comfy, very easy to do, and I would probably do it again for an emergency quick fix. Not for long walks.

Finally, two babies in two wraps. This happened because the very secure wrap I wanted to do with one wrap wouldn’t work (it wasn’t long enough). As I was on my own, I felt safer getting one baby onto my back and securing him before then getting her on my front. Have done several variations of this during the week. Would still prefer one wrap as I only have very long wraps, and wearing a baby on your back actually doesn’t require too much fabric, so I have tons left over. With only one baby, this isn’t too much of a problem, but with two you don’t want huge swathes of fabric everywhere. Still, I felt pretty awesome doing this all by my lonesome!!

So, what do you think? If you want to know more, just ask questions in the comments and I will happily answer them in a future post. Babywearing is about the best thing in the universe….after actually having the babies, that is.

If blood makes you squeamish, don’t read.

December 14, 2009

Thank you for all the great travel tips – we hadn’t even considered bringing tops for us in the carry-ons, and as soon as I read that comment we laughed and realised we were fools.

So the packing continues.

And the sleeping. Ever since I had the swine flu shit-a-thon, I have been tired tired tired. On Saturday I went to bed around 4 pm. I surfaced for about an hour at 10 pm, then slept right through till morning. Even once I was ‘awake’ yesterday, I could not more. Actually couldn’t. It felt like being a teenager again.

I think I coming down with a little cold or something. My job is to eat echinacea tablets like they are going out of style, and to make sure I don’t bleed anywhere. Yes, yes, my period is here for another visit. AND IT IS FUCKED UP.

For about the last week, my SPD has surpassed itself. It’s really going all out to make it hard to move. Didn’t click in my mind that perhaps my period was coming, although my SPD went mental last time as well. And the new thing? My C section scar hurts on the inside. Like it is ripping apart, like it is brand new.

And the masses of bleeding I thought were due to it being my first period a few periods ago? No, apparently now that I’ve had children my body thinks it is groovy to just create a bloodletting experience. Perhaps it assumes that I have kids already, so now it is okay to just totally let go. Blood everywhere.



As I said, thanks for the travel tips. A blog entry that isn’t about blood is coming soon, but that doesn’t guarantee there won’t be more blood entries at some point.

Travel, travel everywhere.

December 10, 2009

TMD and I are, quite simply, exhausted. I think seventeen weeks of baby-intensity might be where it gets a little hairy. Nothing has changed. The babies are lovely, cheerful, laughy kids. But, wow, you know. I almost miss when I had the swine flu and got to sleep uninterrupted for three days.

The thing is they are both closer and closer to sleeping through (okay, Snort did for a long time and is now weirdly not totally doing it). If the last feed is in the 7 or 8 pm hour, they will both sleep for hours and hours and hours. They wake up about 5 and 5:30 am. While it’s fabulous that they sleep so long, and also fabulous that they are (mostly) willing to go back to sleep after this feed, it’s killer to have to wake up at this time of day. We’re actually nostalgic for the days when they would wake up at 3 and 3:30. At least you can go back to sleep for a satisfying amount of time at 4 am. 6 am? Not so much.

We had an appointment for their eyes to be tested at the hospital this morning, and it was so painful to wake up. We hit snooze about seven thousand times. Luckily we are an effective team and we have easygoing babies, so waking up super late didn’t impact on our leaving time or the hospital at all.

I think what is making it tough is our impending trip. We are going to spend two weeks in Country A at my mom’s, the house where I grew up. While we are looking forward to this, we have been strategizing for months about travelling for such an extended period of time with baby twins. One website I like, where mothers of multiples contribute info based on their experience, had a huge and terrifying blog entry about plane travel with babies. It was like three pages of densely packed text, with little to no paragraph breaks.

How to pack for multiples. What to take on the plane for multiples. How to entertain multiples.

Her babies? 18 months old. Her plane trip? Two hours.

Yikes! We’ll have two four month olds, and our travel time from (hotel) door to mom’s door? Hopefully no more than 15 hours.

Think it will be okay. Going to ultilize all four carry on bags – one diaper bag, one toy and ‘ish’ bag, one feeding bag, and one bag for assorted other adult shit (you know, like our combined seven passports!). We’re probably going to bring ring slings on board, as they are way more portable and the babies like them. Plus, as good as I am getting with the wraps, 5.2 metres of fabric is a lot of fabric to be fucking with in a confined space.

So. Any tips for travelling with babies? Things you fucked up on that you want to share so we can avoid fucking up?

I think it will be okay. It’ll be, much like everything else, much more tiring for us than the babies*. We are going to be spending the night at a hotel close to the airport on next Saturday, so not too much time to pack. Especially since, y’know, you can’t make babies just wear the same shit over and over so you can pack their clothes.

Not that, y’know, we’re already wearing the same shit over and over, ’cause that’s how we roll.


* The most true sentence I ever wrote.

Wicked cool!!

December 9, 2009

You make me want to be a better person.

December 9, 2009

Other people’s blogs inspire me. Here are some goals I have because I read about them somewhere else:

1. Attend a Scientology introduction session (okay, the sick part of me wanted to do that for chucks anyway!) JUST SO I can get endless weirdo junk mail about giant lizards all the time. And post those letters online. And my responses.

2. Oh, okay. There is no two. I just want to do number one.

(I said ‘number one.’ Ha.)


December 8, 2009

It takes a brave person to apologize, and I thank you for doing so. It is very much accepted. I hope I didn’t say anything that offended you, in turn.

The thing is, we women have to stick together. The other thing is that sometimes we have to stick to ourselves, to say the things that are stuck inside. I now feel kind of uncomfortable about posting that, but also quite awed by your graceful response.

I was true to myself, and that felt nice. A lot of you gave me love in the form of comments and tweets, and that was nice as well.

So, thank you. For comments, for love, for the apology.