Our pastor (who is a married lesbian with a little boy who is 4 days older than Sam) and C and I decided it would be uber-cute to have Sam baptised by his two moms on Mother's Day.

We picked our godparents (the fabulous Striga and Snakefeathers as well as my church-mom and favorite buddhist-buddy, Meredith - aka Mermom to me) and after a little debate, we decided we would invite our family (C's mom and step-dad and my dad & his wife and my sister & 17 year-old nephew), figuring they probably would not bother to make the trip for a relatively short ceremony.

Well, with the exception of my father's wife (who is recovering from some kind of abdominal surgery), they *all* showed up.

When I sent the email to my sister she replied that she would come and maybe we should do brunch afterwards. I replied that Sam would be napping right afterwards, so brunch at a restaurant wasn't an option. Then she suggested that she could bring a dish to the house for us to eat.

With a sigh I resigned myself to cooking brunch for 12 people (for the record, I actually like to cook and most of the time what I cook turns out pretty well, but cooking under pressure is not my strong suit). I menu planned and figured out that a couple of quiches and some cold salads work work fine, since they could all be made beforehand and then just put out on the day of the baptism. I made one veggie quiche and a ham and swiss quiche, then a bean salad, a pasta salad and a take-the-greens-out-of-bag-and-dump-in-bowl salad.

C was a huge help and just let me cook for most of a day on Friday while she took Sam out of the house (and most importantly the kitchen). All the prepwork was smooth and before I knew it, I was done with just about everything I could do before the event on Sunday and it was only Friday!

The day of the baptism arrived and I was remarkably non-stressed leading up to the day (usually when my father and sister are coming to visit I get very uptight and concerned about how they will judge and criticize the house/me/etc.). Everyone was on time, and we got to the church with time to spare to meet with the pastor and review the ceremony briefly.

When the time came, the ceremony was beautiful, and I was teary the whole time with happy tears. Sam at one point during the explanation leading up to the ceremony was quite squirmy and we just let him squirm on the floor for a bit. Once we picked him up so Rev. Laura could do the actual baptism, though, he was very cooperative. Mermom noted later that it really seemed that Sam got the gravity and power of the ceremony, and I agreed that he did seem almost awed by it. Hard to know if that's actually the case, but maybe so...

Anyway, it was perfectly imperfect. I am so grateful to have a church community to be a part of, but also that Sam will have that community growing up.

The best part of it all was, though, that I got a nice email from my father after he returned home thanking us and saying that he "approved" of our church & pastor, and I came to the realization that while I'm happy for *him* that he approves, I myself really don't care if he approves or not. I'm not sure if I ever thought I'd get to this place (and I keep reminding myself that this lack of interest in his approval/judgment may not be permanent, but I am relishing it now) - I don't think my father ever did with his father and I saw how it taxed him until his father died and to some extent still does.

Here's to creating new family and breaking old family patterns!

Tuesday at 9, someone knocked on our door. I assumed that it was just one of the midwives we were interviewing that day who had come early for her appointment.

Instead, it was someone that I hadn't met before, but who apparently lives in the neighborhood. She asked if we had a black cat (she thought she had seen one in our window and outside of our house from time to time), and I said that we did. She then informed us that a black cat had just been hit by a car near our corner and taken by Animal Control.

I thanked the woman while I had my internal mental meltdown, and C rushed to our back yard to see if she could find Emmy (usually when Emmy's outside she mostly just hangs out in the back yard). Sure enough, there she was, and C scooped her up and we both loved on her and just had a beautiful moment of gratefulness that it was not Emmy who was hit by a car.

Later that night I came home from my meditation class to find C looking as if she'd been hit my an emotional truck - as it turns out, Emmy had gotten out and was still out (it was almost 10 o'clock by this time), and wasn't responding to C's calls.

We try very hard to keep Emmy to outside only during bright daylight - since she's black and I think it would be hard for a driver to see her without the aid of daylight (although I know plenty of cats get hit in broad daylight), so C was very upset that Emmy was out so late.

I went out myself and called for Emmy a couple of times and sure enough after a while she came in, much to the relief of C and me.

For the first two years that we've lived here, we were pretty strict about the cats being indoor only, but, let's face it, Emmy is an extremely crafty cat. Secretly I think she and the dog have worked out some kind of deal - the dog takes an inordinately long time to get in and out of the house and while she is taking her sweet time, Emmy ducks out.

Plus, I have to admit, Emmy just seems a much happier cat being outside during the day. Of course I worry, and I've worked with rescue groups long enough to know that the average lifespan of an outdoor cat is just about 2 years and to know about the diseases and harmful situations that come with having an outdoor cat. It's a hard place to come to - and I find myself doing it with Sam, too - where do you draw the line about what feels safe and comfortable to you versus for another being? Many situations are very clear-cut, but some are a little fuzzier (or should I say furrier?).

Well, since Sam as a fetus was Grommet (a surfing term), the best surfing nickname I could come up with for our next family addition is Gidget.

OK, let me just say it - I'm pregnant.

We don't know the gender yet (although I know Gidget is a decidedly female nickname), and we won't know until probably mid-February.

However, assuming all goes well, we should be giving little Sam a sibling sometime in July!

C a few months ago picked a couple of movies for our Netflix cue and I really liked them so I thought I'd post a quick synopsis/review of both.

A Good Year - Russell Crowe plays a soul-less investment banker who inherits his uncle's villa and vineyard in Provence. What he discovers there are old memories and his soul. There are some cute sub-plots as well as the "love interest" portion. I wouldn't necessarily have picked Crowe for this role, but I was very definitely pleased by his performance. His uncle is played by Albert Finney, who is just superb overall and particularly fitting for this role of a witty, insightful, life-lesson giving uncle. The other big surprise for me was that it was directed by Ridley Scott, who I really associate with action films, but he pulls this off really nicely, I think.

The Good Shepherd - Basically follows the making of a CIA man (Matt Damon) from his days at Yale. I'm not much of a "spy movie" kind of gal, sure, I like the Bond films, but other than that, meh. This however, for me was a really interesting mix of not only the psychology of the individual CIA man, but also the historical context that his intelligence work takes place in. It's a dark film, that's for sure. Not quite a "movie to slit your wrists by" but not one to watch if you're sensitive to such things. The rest of the cast is excellent - Alec Baldwin, Robert DeNiro are splendid in their somewhat peripheral roles and the Ruskie bad guys are good, too.

Today I caught up on sleep, had tea/wandered around/caught up with a dear friend that I don't see near enough (which had the bonus effect of magically making me feel more connected in the world - I love being a stay-at-home-mom, but I have to say that there is a serious isolation factor), found out that my father loves his birthday present, had dinner at our local favorite Chinese - Panda on Park Street (nice crispy veg, good sauces and they serve brown rice, not to mention the very reasonable prices) and also ran into quite possibly my favorite former co-worker from the Lung Association because we were at the Chinese place and she and her family had just had dinner at the Mexican place next door and saw us through the window.

Then I come home and I find an email saying that I've been taken off the wait list for a meditation class that starts Tuesday (this is a class I really, really wanted to take and with a teacher I've heard very good things about).

What a lovely start to the New Year.

OK, just to be clear, this is not a Larry Craig (Senator for Idaho) kind of bathroom run-in story :)

Friday night naomitraveller and I went to Freight and Salvage to see Girlyman.

Just before the concert began, I popped into the bathroom only to run into one of the Girlyman band members while I was washing my hands. I fortunately didn't do anything stupid (it helped that it was the girlier of the girls, not the really incredibly cute butch one - I might have just fainted if it were the butch one), just smiled and said "hi."

Similarly a few years back (post planomatic - were you with me when this happened?), I saw Dar Williams perform at Freight and Salvage, and again, just before the show started, headed into the bathroom and lo and behold, there was Dar Williams washing her hands in the sink next to the one I was washing my hands in. Again, I think I managed not to do anything stupid, but I was really excited to be so close to one of my favorite musicians.

Now, Freight and Salvage is going to be moving to a new building in downtown Berkeley sooner than later, so I asked one of the staff after the concert Friday if the musicians would have their own bathroom, and that I hoped not because I now had not one, but two really cool run-in with musician stories.

The staff person, with absolutely *no* regard for my excitement explained that in the new building the musicians would have their own bathrooms. "But I won't have any more cool bathroom stories!" I complained. Again, without pity the staff person replied that the musicians needed their own bathroom because as it was now they had to wait in line with everyone else...

OK, I guess if you put it that way, it makes sense. I'm looking forward to the new building, but I'm hoping I can catch a couple of more concerts at F&S before they move to see if I can get one more bathroom run-in story...

So the past couple of days when I heard that it might hail during the storms that were coming, I thought "Oh, please, please let it hail!"

I haven't seen hail in years and I don't know why, but it's always been fascinating to me.

There were some very dark clouds heading our way while Sam and I were out at the store and we hurried back (we were on foot) so as to miss the rain that was surely going to ensue at any moment.

Not 5 minutes after we got in the house the rain began and in another 10 minutes there was some lightening and thunder. Then came the hail - and a fair amount of it. I was so excited to see the hail.

Now the sun is back out.

Yay for exciting weather!

Last Thanksgiving was quite possibly the most chaotic I have experienced as an adult. Making a full Thanksgiving feast for 7 people ordinarily would be mildly stressful, but added to that was C's being in early labor and working hard to get it further along before we went to the hospital.

This year, by comparison, was a breeze. On Wednesday C and Sam and I did a pre-Thanksgiving dinner since C was going back to work on Thanksgiving day (don't feel too badly for her, the holiday pay rate makes up for quite a bit of the inconvenience of having to work on a holiday). I put together the food while C kept Sam entertained.

Thursday Sam and I went to our neighbor down the street's Thanksgiving extravaganza. Holy Turkey - I have never personally seen so many people at a Thanksgiving in my life. I'm guessing there were upwards of 30 people there at any given point.

( Here's more about the giant Thanksgiving )

I don't think last year I thought about what Sam would be like this year. There he was at the party though - walking, jabbering, grabbing, exploring - a far cry (so to speak) from his little blob-like self a year ago. As lucky as I considered myself last year to have this wonderful being in my life, now that he's becoming more and more like a little person, I am even more wowed by the experience of being a mom.

So, we're heading down tomorrow to lala land to visit my bff Chris for his birthday (and we'll see his mom, too, which will be great since she hasn't had a chance to see Sam yet).

While we're down there, we'll pop in to see my father and his wife (and [insert sarcastic voice here] if we're really lucky, their totally insane birds).

Not sure how a 6-8 hour car trip will be with little Sam (who is addicted to movement, particularly of the two-legged variety), but I keep reminding myself that back in the day people traveled cross-country in covered wagons with little ones. How bad can it be, right?

OK, let me start by saying that I really do believe, in general, that there are no such things as bad dogs, only bad owners.

It all begins with our locally grown/organic produce box that we get from our green grocer every week. Among the other lovely things that have appeared in our produce box every week, apples are in season, so we've been getting lots of apples. Now I like apples, but despite the tried and true belief, I can't eat one every day, even if it will keep the doctor away.

What to do with a surfeit of apples? Make an apple pie, of course. (It helps that C loves pie, so this is one way I can stay in her good graces ;))

Also, some people we know from our baby play group just had another baby last week, so in addition to making them a dinner, I thought we could also give them a home-made apple pie ('cause there are *plenty* of leftover apples).

So this afternoon I set to - peeling, cutting, and spicing the 6 cups of apples, making the crumb crust for the top, etc. Put the pie in the oven and made sure the edges of the crust didn't get too brown, doting on it and telling the pie how pretty it was and kept myself from getting heatstroke from being in the *hot* kitchen.

Finally the pie was done and gorgeous and a lovely thing to give to the family with the newborn. I just had to let it cool. I put it outside, on the top stair of our small back porch. I didn't want to put it on the rail because I thought it might fall over. I figured it would be too hot for the dog to eat for a bit, and I would come back and block of the back stairs from the dog after I put the other thing I was making for the family in the oven.

[Time passes]

C came back from taking the baby for a walk and asked how the pie was. I said, "Oh, I'll show you, it's on the back porch."

As we opened the door, there was the big yellow dog on the back stairs, muzzle deep in the apple pie. She looked up with a guilty face [insert doggie belch here] and immediately went down the stairs to get some water.

More than half the pie was gone.

C and I almost collapsed with laughter and I seriously haven't had my sides hurt from laughing so hard in a long time.

Went up to Seattle, with a little difficulty.

First I thought I'd reserved a 8:30 a.m. flight, but actually I did the 10:30 flight (the 8:30 would have gotten me in to Seattle at 10:30, so maybe that was the source of my confusion?), which was scheduled to arrive at 12:30 - cutting it a bit close to get to a 2 pm memorial service in downtown, but doable.

Ah, but then there was the mechanical problem on the flight. So, I got off that flight, rebooked onto the 12:30 flight thinking that I'd be late, but still make it for some of the gathering.

Instead of waiting in the 12:30 flight area, I went back to the now-empty original waiting area - stressed, sad and extremely frustrated. Then a Buddhist monk in his beautiful robes sat two chairs down from me and I thought, "OK, here comes some perspective." He saw that I was sad, and we chatted about death and life (he was on his way to a wedding) and impermanence. All good reminders at a time when I really needed them.

Then there was a mechanical issue with the 12:30 flight, so I went back to the original flight, which was now fixed and finally left at 1:30. Sigh.

Found a cab driver (with a Prius!) who got me quickly and safely to the Space Needle, where the memorial was being held. Chris B came out and found me and escorted me in. There was someone at the microphone speaking tearfully, and after he sat down and no one else stood up I hopped up there, offered a few thoughts (which probably weren't very coherent, but I at least did get a Hitchiker's reference in there).

There were some folks from High School there and it was good to see them. I also saw Morgan's dad and his brother, and I hadn't seen them in a very long time.

About 6 of us went to dinner and had a good time. After dinner we went up to Morgan and his widow Kiki's house and hung out for a couple of hours and then went back downtown and crashed for the night.

The next morning Chris and his mom and I went to Pike's Place and had breakfast and wandered around. I bought a few food things (huckleberry tea and some blackberry jam for me, coffee and apple cinnamon bread for C). We met up with Lara and then headed back to the airport.

The flight home was totally uneventful and it was so good to see C and baby Sam.

Seattle really is beautiful and I'm glad I got to go up. I'm really sad that I didn't go up to visit Morgan while he was still alive.

While I haven't completely fleshed this idea out, I have an image of grief as being like the rings on a tree stump - some years are thick with grief and other's aren't, but you can look and see the layers and what years were and it tells you about where you were in the moment in time.

To start off my birthday month, my dear wife and naomi_traveller very kindly plotted for me to have a night out (sans bebe) listening to music I like with someone I very much like (Naomi).

It was going to be a rough work day today and I almost didn't go out with Naomi tonight, but we did, and we heard an all women bluegrass band named the Barefoot Nellies at a little pub here in Alameda. They were really great and we had a good time. Plus, as it turns out, one of the players in the band is the sister-in-law of a friend! (Also by random chance I ran into a nice woman that goes to the church in Alameda we started going to...)

Afterwards we went to Tucker's ice cream and I had rainbow sherbert, which I haven't had in a very long time and it was tasty and just what I was looking for on a hot summer night.

All in all, a lovely night. Especially so because it really has been pretty rare in the past 9 months that I've gone out with a friend for the evening with no baby.

Huge thanks to C and Naomi for getting my birthday month off to a splendid start.

Tomorrow I continue the birthday celebrations with a day-long meditation retreat in Oakland, which will be a great challenge as well as a lovely chance to re-center.

Again, I couldn't do this without C's incredible support and encouragement.

Both of these presents remind me that while I love being Sammy's mom, I am also still me - and that is a tremendous gift.

Since I get Planned Parenthood action alerts, I got an email message from the President, Cecile Richards, and in it she said that her mother (former Texas Governor Ann Richards) would have responded to the situation with these words: "Women voting for this ticket is just like chickens voting for Colonel Sanders."

I couldn't agree more.

Well, it's official - Sammy has spent more time out of the womb than he did in it!

Here are some of the developmental milestones since last month:

* Feeding himself (mostly finger foods which he is getting really good at, but we're also starting to show him how to feed himself with a spoon with mixed success)

* Pulling up (if it looks remotely stable, he pulls himself up on it)

* Moving from one object to another (for example, moving between the coffee table and the couch)

* Really liking the baby in the mirror

* Waving (we're not quite to official "hi" and "bye" waves, but darn close)

Overall Sam's just getting more and more fun - the giggle fests we have are amazingly fun. We're also trying to teach him to say "Obama" (he can make all the sounds separately, so we'll see if he can put them together).

As an added bonus on Sammy's 9 month marker, today a meter maid (that knows us for our dog Henle) met Sam for the first time today when I was out with him this afternoon. "He looks just like you!" she said to me. I have to admit I did absolutely nothing to correct her :-) Hee hee.

Bleh - I have Sammy's cold.

Fortunately, it doesn't appear to be a particularly bad one, but I'd rather not have one at all.

Mmm, whine :)

This is a little late, as Samuel's 8-month birthday was 3 days ago, but better late than never.

Some of Sam's new tricks:

* Crawling (for a month or so now he's been doing some odd combination of moves that did roughly get him where he wanted to go, but now we have actual, bona fide crawling).

* Babbling (he's gone from just Mamamamamamama to babababababa and also has decided that blowing raspberries with your tongue sticking out is a very fun)

* Walking with assistance (he now regularly and steadily walks while you're holding his hands and often seems inconvenienced by mere crawling. Sam is also beginning to get the idea that he can hold on to things other than moms that will keep him standing.)

* Cat chasing (just the other day Emmy was in a sunny spot on the carpet and Sammy decided to go over to her. She was quite annoyed. Mya suggested I move her to another sunny spot, and I did, but she was so put out about the whole experience she didn't want any of it.)

* Eating solids - and not just mushed up ones (I gave him little bits of melt-in-your-mouth lamb that C had prepared and he seemed to like it a lot. We're also giving him cut-up cooked carrots and potatoes for him to grab and put in the general direction of his mouth in addition to the standard cheerios.)

* Socializing with other babies (Our friend Striga & Snakefeathers brought Sam's almost birthday twin over last weekend and we're also regularly going to Wee play - a Alameda Parks and Rec sponsored playgroup for kids 6 months to 3 years old.)

* Potty training (we're mostly just trying to get him used to the idea of sitting on the potty, but under C's guidance he's actually peed in the potty twice now!)


I'm sure there are load of other tricks I'm leaving out, but those are the biggies, I think.

So, the other day, I just happened to wander into the Williams-Sonoma store that is by my work.

Thinking I was going to be safe because while I drool over just about everything, just about everything in there is too expensive for me to actually purchase.

As I entered the store, I was greeted by the friendly salesperson who stays up front to assist you right as you walk in. "Be sure to check the back, there are items on sale on the back tables," he said. "Uh-oh," I thought.

Sure enough, in the back, there they were, the mighty temptations. Cast iron pots made in France by Staub. At 50% off. We're talking a $200 pot now for $100. O. Mi. Gosh. But, $100! There's a lot of baby food I could buy with that kind of money...

naomitraveler had told me that the Staub pots were superior to Le Cruset, which was my previous source of cast-iron pot lust. I immediately called her to explain my dilemma. Was it really a good enough deal? She assured me it was and that I should invest - "It'll last you a lifetime," she said.

So I bought it. Pretty, green, cast iron. For 50% off!

As I write this, I am cooking a roast in the Staub. According to my sources, the stipples in the lid make for very moist and tasty roasts. If it's half as good as I'm expecting it to be, it will be worth every cent that I paid for it.

If it's really, really good, maybe I'll go back and get the chicken-shaped pot. Click here to see what it looks like>

Six months has always been one of my very favorite baby stages and it is, of course, especially true with Sammy.

Now I admit fully that I am as biased as biased gets, but I find that Samuel is a particularly adorable and clever 6-month old.

For those of you who are interested in Sam's new tricks:

* He is eating like a pro now - he gets that the food is supposed to stay in his mouth (OK, for the most part he gets this), and he is even "helping" feed himself by grabbing the spoon when it gets close to his mouth. The result is perhaps a bit more messy, but it's pretty cool that he gets the concept and wants to do it himself.

* Rolly-polly baby now rolls across the floor with amazing agility and speed.

* Along the rolly-polly lines, he's also very close to figuring out how to crawl. He can get himself up on his knees, and also up on his arms, just not at the same time yet.

* Fascination with the world (and people in particular) - C took him to a 2-hour meeting at work and swears that he was looking at each person as they spoke and didn't fuss for the entire two hours. He also really loves watching the cats (and petting them from time to time).

* Fascination with the world, part 2 - we've officially reached the "the world is too interesting and if I sleep I might miss something!" stage. Very cool from one perspective, but quite sad when he cries so much when it's time for a nap or bedtime.

* Bookish? The other day C put him on the carpet and he scooted to the other side of the carpet because his books were there (yay!).

On a side note, C and I went to my sister's in Pleasanton last Sunday and my 16 year old nephew finally got to meet his most recent cousin. It was pretty funny to see J (my nephew) try to hold Sam.

Wow, we are ecstatic! The California State Supreme court overturned the same-sex marriage ban!

Hurray!

Here's a link if you'd like to see a more humorous view of the
Gay Agenda

The court had until June to state their opinion, but it looks as if they will be announcing their decision tomorrow at 10 a.m.

This could be an amazing day or a heartbreaking day for my family and for thousands of other queer families throughout California...

If you want to read the San Francisco Chronicle's article, click here