It’s spring in Oklahoma, which means that crap is blooming, my allergies suck like crazy and that we’re being hit with wave after wave of thunderstorms. It’s been really good though because our summer last year was bone dry and extremely hot, so our vegetation suffered here. All of the spring rain has helped things bounce back and I sorta love it.
I just like the pattern the limb shadows made below. :)
But the interesting part of these very loud, very frequent thunderstorms would be Bean’s reaction to them.
They seem to crop up overnight most of the time and the thunder claps are loud enough to wake Jeremy and I from a sound sleep. They’ll even rattle the house at times.
Bean’s reaction? Absolutely nothing. He sleeps right through every single one.
But, should we use the restroom, which is right next to the Bean’s room, and flush the toilet, instantly he pops up and starts talking and/or crying.
No, the loud, house-shaking thunder is enough to wake his Daddies, terrify the dogs, but isn’t enough to wake the Bean as he sleeps peacefully. But the quiet, gentle woosh of a toilet flushing is way too loud to sleep through.
Methinks my Bean may have selective hearing, much like his Daddy. :)
Posted in Bean, Fun, Jeremy, Life, PhotosTags: bean, black and white, oklahoma, pic, pics, shadows, spring, thunderstorms, trees, tulsa
I have something to share with you, friendz.
Yes, it’s begun.
I had hoped that we’d avoid the dreaded terrible twos because Bean has always been such an easy, happy little dude. But no such luck. We’re about a month away from officially turning two and all of the hallmarks are starting to emerge: the stubborness (although this is simply amplified since he was already stubborn), the talking back, the fits, the “mine, mine, mine”, the “NO!” and the behavior we have no way of explaining.
From the time Bean popped into this world, we’ve always had a really tight bond. For some reason, I’ve almost always been able to read what he’s thinking, what he needs or what his motivations are without having to discuss it with him. When he was a tiny infant, I knew immediately what each cry meant: I’m hungry, I’m dirty, I’m hungry, I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m hungry (he ate a lot). As an older infant, I could always tell when he was off his schedule but needed something nonetheless. One of my friends calls it Dad-tuition.
But not anymore – at least not in one area.
Bean has become a biter at school. We have no idea why, but it’s become a real problem. He’s bitten six kids in the past two weeks. We officially have “that” kid – the one other parents are fearful of. The one where other parents question his parenting, no doubt. (Well, you know, he is being raised by those homer-sexuals.)
With each incident comes an incident report, which explains what happens, when, where and all of that jazz. It was Bean, in the library with the teeth. It’s like a Clue game. But the report has to be signed by Bean’s parents and a copy is provided to the other kid’s parents as well before going into his “record”. They make it sound like he’s a felon! He has a “record”. He’s almost-two and he has a “record” already. #parentingfail.
We’ve been talking to him and reading books about not biting. There doesn’t seem to be a pattern other than the fact that he’s stubborn, assertive and he doesn’t have patience for other kids. Want to take Bean’s toy? You get bit. Want to get into the play car while Bean is in it? You get bit. Taking too long to down the slide when Bean is ready to go? You get bit. It’s clearly a situation where he’s upset, frustrated or irritated but he doesn’t know how to communicate it in words yet (at least that’s what we’re thinking). We’re 99.9% certain that he isn’t a zombie, therefore he shouldn’t be craving human flesh. But the problem is that it never happens in front of us, so it’s difficult to correct. His teachers pull him aside and say “no bite” and things of the sort, but it doesn’t seem to register with him so far.
For the first time, I’m really questioning if we’re missing something with Bean or if we’ve done something incorrectly. I’m feeling really shitty and like I’ve somehow let him down. I should be able to tell what’s causing the issue and help him work through it, but I am totally clueless here.
I know we’ll get through this phase. But, for some reason, this situation specifically has been really hard for me to deal with emotionally.
In the words of Liz Lemon…blerg.
Posted in Bean, Dear Bean, Life, Parenting, Photos, SuckyTags: bean, biting, blerg, frustrating, liz lemon, parenting, toddler, upsetting
Sure, he looks cute and sweet. But I’m on to him.
I know that behind that adorable, twitchy little nose, is a monster who’s blood-thirst can’t be quenched. He’s just waiting for his moment to strike.
So, every day, we stare each other down.
He stops, looks me in the eyes.
I don’t flinch – that would show weakness.
I stare into his icy gaze until, finally, he submits momentarily.
But I don’t let my guard down. I know his motives.
He moves higher into the tree – a better angle to launch his attack I presume.
He spins around, leaving only his bushy, evil tail showing, presumably looking for weapons or sharpening his razor-sharp teeth.
….and then he’s back, locking his steel gaze on me once more.
And I know.
This is it; this is where his attack begins.
I prepare myself for the impending fight for my life. All of my senses are heightened. I am machine of pain – who’s sole purpose is to destroy Snow White’s friends.
….and then it happens.
I wake up.
You ever have dreams like that? I can’t be the only one who has dreams about fighting vicious squirrels to the death, can I?
Posted in Fun, Life, PhotosTags: dream, fight to the death, funny, photos, pic, pics, picture, scary, squirrel
Today I found out through a friend that another friend of ours (and a former boss) passed away unexpectedly. He was in his early 40s and seemed to be healthy, so this was really a surprise. I hadn’t spoken to him in a few years but I had just thought about him recently and had hoped to eventually track him down and catch up.
I was really upset to hear of his passing and shocked that his life had been cut so short. He was a wonderful man, a good friend and he was one of the few people I really looked up to as a young gay man.
I met A when I was about 19 and still trying to figure out my life. I was working part-time at a local department store in women’s shoes and he was the manager I reported to. A was an approachable, kind and honest boss that made working there a lot of fun (as much fun as working with feet could be). More than that, I took a lot away from our conversations about A’s relationship with his long time partner, C. A was the first person that talked frankly about the barriers and challenges in a relationship and specifically a gay relationship. He never sugar coated the fact that being in a long-term relationship was difficult, took a lot of work, sacrifice and, most importantly, it took communication. I soaked up so much from our conversations and valued his friendship.
After I left the department store, we slowly lost touch as or lives went in different directions. But every now and again, we’d run into each other and spend time catching up. I was so eager to track him down and tell him about marrying Jer and having Bean. I knew that he’d be proud almost in the way that an uncle takes pride in the accomplishments of a nephew.
I’ll never have that chance now.
More than that, C is left without a partner. His family lost a son, brother, uncle and a friend. It’s just a terrible situation. It breaks my heart.
When my friend told me about his passing, he sent me the link to his obituary. I opened it and I was immediately surprised that, after the initial summary of his life, it began listing his parents and siblings instead of his partner, C. I kept reading – a little confused. Towards the end, after nieces and nephews were listed, the obit mentioned that A was survived by his “long time friend, C”.
Wait. What?
Long time friend?!?
One thing that I knew from my discussions with A was that his family, although important to him, never fully accepted his orientation or his partner.
That’s when it hit me: his family had written his obit. And, in the process, they had all but cut out the presence of his partner, C.
Suddenly, my sense of mourning for a friend turned to a deep sense of anger. I was furious, I was hurt for C and I was feeling a deep sense of loss for the legacy of A’s life.
How on Earth could A’s family think that they have the right to essentially strip away the most important relationship of his life? To minimize the deep, committed love that A and C had for each other? Regardless of their opinion on his orientation, A had chosen to live an out, proud life and a life that he shared with C for well over 15 years.
How could they be to cruel to C? He has to be completely devastated with the loss of his spouse and now he has to deal with the fact that the obituary of his beloved refers to him as a “friend”. That adds so much insult to injury and, to me, that’s just unbearable.
It made me wonder how we really measure the worth of someone’s life. How do we determine whether or not someone succeeded on their journey as a human or if they failed?
As cheesy and as gay as it sounds, I kept coming back to Seasons of Love from RENT.
How do you measure a life?
Measure in love.
At the end of all of this, what will we be remembered for? It won’t be for the car we drive, for the fancy laptop we had or even for the career we chose. We’ll be remembered based on the relationships we build and the love we share with our family and friends. Our legacy is carried on by our loved ones.
So, in summing up A’s life…how could you miss even a single opportunity to celebrate the true achievement that sustained him for so long? How could you choose to strip his legacy and rewrite his story?
If A’s family truly loved him and wanted to celebrate his life, C should have been in the very first line of his obit when discussing his family. A always put him first in life and he should have been prioritized after his passing.
I fully intend to be A’s memorial service and I hope I have a chance to wrap my arms around C; to offer our support in any way possible, however trite it may be.
But…here’s part of the reason that I’m writing about this.
If you are part of a same-sex couple or are half of a hetero couple that’s not yet married, please talk to an attorney today about protecting your rights.
Especially with the LGBT community, if your spouse dies, in many states, you will have NO power to plan your partner’s service, to make the arrangements, you may have no rights to your joint possession and, equally as scary, you may not be allowed to see your spouse in the hospital or make medical decisions for your spouse.
This is not something can wait – you never know what’s ahead of you. Take the time NOW to protect yourself, to protect your spouse and to protect your legacy. Make sure your life is recorded true to who you are.
Don’t allow yourself to be in a position where your story is altered to leave out what matters most – the love. However supportive your families may be, do not leave it to them to grant your spouse what he/she deserves, which is full rights over your care and treatement, your estate and, most importantly, your legacy.
That’s what it’s called when you have an unhealthy love of vintage Pyrex. But, in my defense, it’s lust worthy kitchenware. And it’s functional. And it’s happy.
I mentioned the other day that I have a collection of Pyrex Snowflake pieces but I didn’t have any pictures (shame on me). So, when I had a few minutes this weekend, I snapped a couple pics of the pieces I have out (I have other pieces still in bubble wrap from the move). Here’s a little peek at my collection.
Top to bottom (above): Small blue refrigerator dish (called a “friggie” by collectors – you’ll sound way hip calling them that. You’re welcome), large yellow friggie and a turquoise and white split casserole (it’s divided inside so you can cook two items at the same time, in the same dish. Genius).
There’s my Snowflake rectangular casserole (my favorite of my Snowflake pieces) surrounded by Temporama serving pieces (in front of it), Fiestaware (either side) and an unmarked candy dish.
This is a Pyrex mixing bowl in the Friendship pattern. It stays out in the kitchen and houses fruits and veggies before they’re consumed. Right now it’s holding Cuties for my little cutie. :)
You can see my 3 Snowflake oval casseroles peeking out in there. Directly left is my set of Verde Pyrex mixing bowls. Then you have assorted Fiesta pieces, candy dishes and a vintage salt and pepper set of Paul and Babe the blue Ox.
Another shot of the ovals.
Like I said before, I love the vintage Pyrex pieces because of the beautiful colors and patterns, the build quality and their ease of use. They clean up so easily and they’re just total fun to use. Which you would rather use? A happy little vintage piece for lasagna or a clear glass, soulless piece of Pyrex that’s made today? No question in my book!
Posted in Aqua, Cathrineholm, Design, Dining Room, Fiestaware, Friggie, Fun, Home, Mid Century Modern, Mixing Bowls, Photos, Pyrex, Snowflake, Temporama, Turquoise
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