O H M Y G O D
I cooked a three-course (two, actually, unless you count filling -- then later opening -- the rice cooker) meal for my family, Saturday, and THEY ALL SAT DOWN AT THE DINING ROOM TABLE AND ATE. TOGETHER. AS IN, SIMULTANEOUSLY. LIKE, CONVERSING AND STUFF.
It's still sinking-in. It's still a little hard to believe.
You see, that's a FIRST. It's never happened before, not in three and a half years of parenthood. Weirder still, it's happening while my wife is 7 months pregnant. I checked, the sky still looks securely attached. I dunno.
Oh, and better yet? WE DID IT AGAIN ON SUNDAY.
My world is a little shaky. Go figure.
In other news (news? it really is something of a conceit to pretend this is any more than a diary: isinterested googlebots, yep, that's my traffic in a nutshell ...), I'm seeing a dermatologist for a hair removal consultation, Thursday. WOO. I'm practically counting the hours. Once Epic comes along (mid-to-late November, depending on how fast he grows), endocrinology here I come! That'll be such a relief.
Sunday afternoon, my wife and I hit-up Macy's for maternity bras. Well, she got the bras; I sat and read Reviving Ophelia. I kept finding myself wondering (for what must be the umpteenth time) if maybe this time Alice Miller's Drama of the Gifted Child might not be too impenetrable. Really, I have got to read the blasted thing from cover to cover one of these years. *sigh*.
The nice thing about the outing, though, is that we were able to joke casually about how I wasn't really "joining" her in her quest for bras, this time. She also observed that chances are, I won't have quite the same fitting problems she has (ribcage size -- she's 41" around). I disagreed, but couldn't quote numbers (I checked this morning: 40". Ha!). It was ... comfortable. There was something profoundly relieving about the whole experience.
Speaking of outings, I get to come-out to my voice coach on Friday. I don't think there'll be any problem -- we've already sort of discussed this -- and it's really the only thing I can rationally do. Adjusting my speaking voice may wreak havoc upon my blossoming bel canto production, and to continue to study (stopping is not an option; I need this venue) without sharing with her what I'm up to, vocally, would be a waste of time, effort, and tuition. None of this reasoning, however, makes the anticipation any easier. Feh.
About Rachel
- Rachel Alder
- Rachel is a thirty-something software engineer, singer, gamer, and mother of two. Occasionally, she blogs here. And tweets a bit.
2 comments:
Hey. I just found your blog today, and I just wanted to say hello, and that I look forward to hearing more about your journey. I can definitely relate to much of what you have said so far, I too am transitioning with two young children. Keep it up!
Kathryn
Thanks; I've enjoyed reading your own journal as well. I'm heartened by your experience with your mother. I was open with mine through my questioning teens and beyond, but have run into a wall, now, as she disagrees that my transition will be better for my children than its suppression or deferral would be. It's been such a challenge finding material to support my perspective.
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