Wingspans and Reflections: Day Eight of Our Christmas Vacation

Our last day in Texas was really nice. We got up early for breakfast and headed over to the Guenther House. The Guenther House belongs to the family of the founder of Pioneer Flour Mills and is right down the street from my uncle's house. The food was really wonderful (no pics, sorry), and so was the decor.

I found it immensely entertaining that the majority of the fireplace detail was ears of corn.





I loved the gigantic house made of sweets on display on the second floor.









Some fun facts about the candy house:



Ninety pounds of candy?!

We went to the gift shop on the third floor, and I saw these. They reminded me of someone:



I tried on a chef's hat and discovered that it was a good look for me.



After we'd had our fill of the Guenther House, we came back to Uncle Charles's, where Roy and I began the final stages of packing for our trip home. We had a couple of hours to kill afterwards, so we took a walk.

Roy is my absolute favorite person to walk with; for some reason we always have the absolute best conversations while we're on a walk. That day was no exception. We walked and talked and admired several cranes in flight.




The ducks were endlessly entertaining but not very social.



We drove down to another part of the river and walked around. It was all very quiet and peaceful, a very nice thing to experience at the end of such a hectic trip.





And soon it was off to the airport, where we boarded our flight to Phoenix. For some reason, Roy and I were assigned seats at opposite ends of the plane, but I was able to use my charms to convince the guy who was originally sitting next to me to switch seats with Roy.

I had been feeling good all day (pain/pressure-wise and cold-wise), but the cold symptoms got pretty bad on our flights due to the change in altitude. Once we were back in California, I was feeling pretty crummy. Roy's uncle and grandfather picked us up from the airport and took us home. We were both really happy to be back.

Reflection time:

Our trip was very much a mixed bag. I had really high hopes for it, and it just didn't turn out the way I expected it to. I always tend to forget that family complicates things in unexpected ways. But it was really nice to be able to spend some time with my people, because our time together is always so limited.

I came back from our trip with the notion that in many ways, it seems easier to have a relationship with my family from a distance. There's less dealing with my mom's anxiety; there's less facing of the reality that my dad is not a well man. It's not that I want to live my life in a state of denial, but the distance often helps me to deal with the aspects of my family that are less-than-thrilling, not to mention those parts that are painful.

My time in California, away from my family, has (obviously) yielded a life that is completely separate and totally different from the one I had in Texas. In my late teens and early 20s, before I moved away, I had the distinct feeling that I was not living life on my own terms. I also often felt that there was no real place for me, nowhere that I actually fit in.

I've come to realize that there's probably no perfect place that will fit a person exactly as they need to be fitted every moment. But there are people who fit you. They're like a favorite pair of old jeans, a comfy sweater, or those days where you can watch the rain fall outside. They're flawed, but ultimately they get you in a way that can never be explained or completely understood. They know you.



People are what make a place home. I've got a home in Texas, and I've got a home in California. I've got two families, neither of which is perfect, and frankly, I love them despite (and because of) their imperfections.



But it's love that makes things so damn hard. It's love that makes my heart ache for my mom when she's away (even though I know she will drive me crazy the next time we see each other). It's love that makes me think of my dad and wonder if he'll remember my name the next time we see each other (even though I know he will probably say something thoughtless that will hurt my feelings). I cannot divorce myself of this love any more than I can separate myself from the place I grew up. I cannot stop the pain that comes from loving other people so much, and I cannot escape the problematic past I left behind in Texas when I moved away years ago.

To think that I could come to some sort of peaceful resolution by having every aspect of our Christmas trip fall into place was naive of me. Not because I didn't plan for the unexpected, but because peace is often elusive - it's rare to find oneself standing at the top of the Mountain of Clarity. Life is muddled and complicated, but ultimately this has been one hell of a crazy ride that I want to experience for many years to come, dysfunctional families and overwhelming love and all.

A River Runs Through It: Day Seven of Our Christmas Vacation

To continue the Christmas recaps...

I woke up feeling awesome on December 29. Despite developing a cold the day before, I felt pretty good. I was pleased to note that the pain/pressure in my uterus area had subsided a great deal. We went to El Mirador for lunch with my mom and Uncle Charles. I had enchiladas, of course. I didn't take any pictures, but here are a couple pics of the bathroom doors that I took when I ate there back in June:




Who takes pictures of bathroom doors, anyway? Apparently I do.

We went back to my uncle's house to rest. Roy and my mom took naps, my uncle went back to work, and I hopped on the laptop and spent a good amount of time organizing my photos. Would you believe that I've probably taken 5,000 photos in the last year but haven't bothered to organize them? (Actually, I am normally an organizing fool, but this has been one hell of a busy year.) It was cool going through old photos, because I got to find some like this:



I love it! It was taken in November 2007, and I had completely forgotten about it. I love how happy we look.

Once everyone was up and rested, we went out for a bit. My uncle is a big collector of art objects from different countries, so we went to a shop that he frequents. Again, no recent pics, but the shop sold stuff similar to this:



Then we decided to brave the Rivercenter, a mall that is built on the Riverwalk. The only reason I wanted to go was to get a present for Mandy and Paul. It was a dumb decision. The traffic to get there was awful because of some event going on at the Alamodome. Some of the streets were closed down, and we ended up having to get on the freeway due to lack of options.

It's a freeway, right? No big deal, right? But if you remember, nothing is simple with my mom at the wheel. You might as well tell her the world is ending. You'd get a similar reaction.

It was so frustrating trying to get my mom to understand that being on the freeway and going the wrong way for a short while wasn't really such a terrible thing. I told her many times (calmly, to my credit) to get off the freeway and to turn around, and she finally did - but not after much nail-biting, fretting, and swerving (yes, swerving!).

We pulled into the Rivercenter parking garage and parked. Hooray. Success.

The mall was a mess of people. I hate crowds, truly. After picking the perfect gift for Mandy and Paul, the three of us sat outside for a brief moment until it got too cold. The Riverwalk is especially gorgeous at Christmastime.





We inched home (through tons and tons of traffic). It was nuts. My mom was a bit on the stressed side, but she handled herself much better (probably because we weren't on the freeway). Once back at my uncle's house, we hung out. And I took photos - really distorted and sometimes overexposed photos.





Yes, those are my crazy eyes (in the first picture).

And that was our day. Not terribly exciting, but after all the "excitement" that came before, it was a nice day - very wonderful to be feeling like myself again. I'll take my mom's anxiety over a hospital visit any day.

Final recap coming soon!

Quaint Christmas: Days Two and Three of Our Christmas Vacation

Both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were laid back days. Considering that my uncle's weakness from his illness earlier in the year, my brother's kidney stones, and my pregnancy, we weren't in the best shape to go out and party. Instead we stayed in for most of both days.

On Christmas Eve, we decorated the tree...



...ate candy...

...gave Buster lots of love...

...took Buster for a walk and took lots of blurry-on-purpose pictures...

...looked at the Christmas lights...

...and opened gifts!

It was a small, quiet Christmas Eve with few gifts, but it was still good.

On Christmas morning, we crowded around the laptop and showed my mom and uncle a couple of our favorite videos.

I introduced my mom to i can has cheezburger. These were her favorites:

We hung out and took it easy...

I'll Take a Little More Dysfunction, Please: Day One of Our Christmas Vacation

Roy and I got up dark and early at 3:30 AM for our flight on December 23. Our brother-in-law Paul was nice enough to take us to the airport and watch over our kitties in our absence. Our flights were without incident, although I began to get extremely uncomfortable during the second (longer) one. (I will definitely not be doing any more air travel during this pregnancy.)

My mom and brother (Wade) picked us up from the airport and took us to eat at Taco Haven, a Mexican eatery in downtown San Antonio. (One thing I miss about Texas is the Mexican food. California just doesn’t know how to do it, in my opinion.) Afterwards, we went to my Uncle Charles’s house, where we got all settled in for our stay. Roy and I took a long nap; it was much needed.

When we woke up, it was nearing dark. We still hadn’t told any of my family about the sex of Bunlet - I was waiting until I could get them all together in the same room. I decided on the very spur of the moment to set up the surprise for my mom while she was out walking Buster (my uncle’s dog) - it only involved my putting out all our ultrasound pictures and the “it’s a ____” teddy bear Roy had found for her. I needed someone to stall my mom until I was ready, but neither Roy nor Wade jumped to it. Thus I decided to take my chances and set up the surprise and hope she didn’t walk in. I started laying out the ultrasound pictures on my uncle’s dining room table, when all of a sudden, I heard the front door open.

I quickly gathered all the stuff together and hurried upstairs. I was pretty annoyed but quickly got over it. Being as we were going out to get dinner, I figured everyone else could get in the car and I could stay behind for a few minutes and set up the surprise. My mom, brother, and uncle were all in the living room discussing something, so I hid in the downstairs bathroom while Roy went to go tell them to go out to the car and that I would join them shortly.

My mom is famous for carrying on a conversation for-frickin-ever, and I suppose she and Uncle Charles thought this was the perfect time to discuss the merits vs. dangers of acquiring driving directions from an online source. (Neither one of them has the Internet, if you can believe that.) So there I was, crouching in the downstairs bathroom, ear to the door to figure out what was going on. I finally texted my brother and said, “Get her out of there! I’m trying to set something up.”

I finally just gave up, because my mom would not stop talking. I hid the ultrasound pictures and the teddy bear amongst my uncle’s supply of toilet paper, walked out of the bathroom, and let everyone know I was ready to go. I thought it would have been cool to have my mom come home to the “it’s a ____” set up, and I was a little bummed (and again, annoyed).

As it turned out, it was probably best that it didn’t happen that way. Because while we were on our way home from picking up dinner, we got lost. When I get lost, I don’t get nervous - probably because I have a crappy sense of direction and am used to getting lost. My mom, on the other hand, has spent the majority of her life living in small Texas towns. She is a slow driver who doesn’t really know how to drive on freeways. What’s worse, she’s an anxious driver. So when we got lost, my mom’s anxiety really hit the roof. I kept trying to tell her that we just needed to turn around and go back the way we came, but instead, we just kept driving, and my mom just kept fretting. I don’t think she really understood that there were three rational adults in the car (me, Roy, and Wade) and that between us, we could figure out how to get back to my uncle’s house. (Plus, I have spent a lot of time driving around San Antonio, so as crappy as I am with directions, it’s a city I feel comfortable in.)

It truly was only a matter of time before someone got pissed off, because at this point my mom’s driving skills had dwindled to those of a 14-year-old (due to her high anxiety) and yet she wouldn’t do anything to remedy the situation. That someone who got pissed off was Wade. There was an outburst of anger (on both their parts), but my mom finally stopped the car and let my brother take over. He turned the car around, and we drove back to my uncle’s house.

Wade retreated to the third story of the house, where he had set up his home away from home. My mom stayed downstairs with my uncle in the living room. Roy and I ate dinner and hung out a bit in the living room as well. My mom looked awfully sad, and as much as I could relate to my brother’s frustration with her, I felt really sorry for her. I had Roy grab the camera, and I did the big reveal of Bunlet’s sex on the spur of the moment. It was a really nice moment, and it made a huge difference in my mom’s demeanor. It would have been better if Wade had been there as well, but I figured I would tell him in the morning when he was in a better mood.

As it turns out, sound carries very easily in my uncle’s gigantic house, and Wade heard everything, even though he was three stories up. Naturally, he was hurt at not being included. My intention was not to leave him out, but to do something to cheer my mom up. And I had no idea that he would be able to hear it all. So that aspect of it sucked. But we cleared it up, and Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were less dramatic days.

That recap (with pics!) is coming up.

Family Values

Thanks to you all for your comments on my post on Prop 8. Amy rose to the occasion and linked to an article that does not use the Bible as a means to justify Prop 8. (Thank you, Amy! I appreciate it very much.) I've read the article several times, and I feel compelled to respond.

First of all, I grew up with the traditional notion of family being made up of a mother, a father, and kids. That's what I knew growing up, and that's what worked. But issues related to Prop 8 weren't in the forefront of my consciousness back then. During my undergrad days, I began my exploration of what family is and what it means to me. I took a class called Perspectives on Gender, and this was my very first introduction to different types of families. One of the professors who taught the class was bisexual, and her sexuality resulted in her having a very different family than what I had previously been exposed to. We spent one day discussing the notion of family, and honestly, it was the best class period of the whole quarter. I thought her family structure was very cool.

Little did I know then that I would marry into another different sort of family in a few short years. As I discussed before, my husband's mother is a lesbian, and, together with her partner Cherie, they are raising Cherie's three grandchildren. The specifics of why my two mother-in-laws have custody of these kids are not really relevant to this, but I will say that the kids were not receiving adequate care from their parents.

But according to the article in question, "[every] child being raised by gay or lesbian couples will be denied his birthright to both parents who made him. Every single one. Moreover, losing that right will not be a consequence of something that at least most of us view as tragic, such as a marriage that didn't last, or an unexpected pregnancy where the father-to-be has no intention of sticking around. On the contrary, in the case of same-sex marriage and the children of those unions, it will be explained to everyone, including the children, that something wonderful has happened!"

Knowing what these kids went through at the hands of their own biological parents, and knowing how my two mother-in-laws rescued them from a very destructive and dysfunctional family life, the points made in this article piss me off. They piss me off more than anything else I've read on the issue. There is just so much that is wrong with what's being said here. And frankly, I take it personally.

And here's why: Prop 8 threatens my own family. Yes, I am a straight woman who is married to a straight man, and we plan to add to our own little "normal" family. But these kids, although they are not blood relations, are my family. And I love them. And I love my mother-in-laws for giving them a wonderful home, even though they are both in their 50s and should be planning for retirement. And actually, I would say that when these kids were adopted by my mother-in-laws, something wonderful did indeed happen. If, by being adopted by a gay couple, the kids are being denied their birthright (of abuse and neglect), then I say, "Screw birthright. Let's focus on love."

Besides all this touchy-feely stuff, what is this nonsense about marriage being designed for procreation? What century are we living in? What of those married couples who don't want to have children? Does this mean they shouldn't get married? What of those couples who suffer from infertility to the point where they may need donor eggs or sperm in order to have a child? Should they just forget their dreams of having children because they have a medical condition? After all, if they resort to using donor eggs and/or sperm, they might be denying their child his/her birthright! It's absolute rubbish.

As the author himself stated at the beginning of the article, "[marriage] as a human institution is constantly evolving, and many of its features vary across groups and cultures." And this is exactly right. Our notions of marriage and family have changed. My family is not threatening anyone else's family by being a little outside of the norm. But if Prop 8 passes, it will hurt my family. How is this fair or right? How can anyone justify this?

Bottom line: children primarily need love. We all do. It is simply not right to deny others the right to love and to have a family structure that reflects that love. I don't mean to belabor the point, but this is really an issue of human compassion and decency. I will lose so much faith in the human race if Prop 8 passes. It's just not right.

Still not liking Ike.

I didn't update on Hurricane Ike yesterday, so here's the latest.

The hurricane's path has turned slightly north towards the Houston area. My hometown is an hour and a half south of Houston. This is good news for my immediate family, but with the very unpredictable nature of hurricanes, they are far from being out of the woods.

I said in my last post that my mom had already evacuated, but I had assumed wrong. She actually hadn't at that point. Yesterday she got her whole house boarded up and then decided to stay until this morning and reassess the situation. Let's just say that I hope her reassessment has her driving to San Antonio where she'll be much farther inland. As a matter of fact, I just read on CNN that those who decide to stay and stare down the storm are doing something similar to staring into the barrel of a gun.

Yikes. Mom, are you listening?

I spoke with both my dad and my aunt on Wednesday and figured out that my dad will be safe and taken care of through this. Good - one parent down, one to go.

Ike is expected to make landfall late tonight or early tomorrow and be at least a category 3 hurricane. You can bet money on the fact that I will be sleeping fitfully or not at all.

As always, thanks so much for your comments, thoughts, and prayers.

(image from here)

I do not like Ike.

I just found out a few minutes ago from my brother's blog that Hurricane Ike is headed straight for the Texas coast - and thus, my parents. My mom has evacuated, and I haven't been able to track down my dad yet. It's times like this when I really wish we had actual TV channels at home, so I could easily keep tabs on this damn monster.



When I was a kid, I used to think that a hurricane was a big candy cane floating around the sky. Unfortunately, life is not like Candyland. Hurricanes are pretty awful to live through. Back in 2003, Hurricane Claudette wreaked havoc on my hometown. I had moved away by that point but came to visit the next month. I took a lot of pictures of the damage - which reminds me, where's that damn scanner I've been wanting for years now?

The point is, Hurricane Claudette was only a Category 1 storm, and it did a shitload of damage. Ike is already a Category 2 storm and is projected to become at least a Category 4. The very famous Hurricane Katrina was a Category 3.

Yeah, I'm freaking out.