Holiday Letter

It's that time of year when we're starting to get those holiday letters from friends and family sharing the highlights of their year. Family trips, home repair, a few photos thrown in for good measure. Being the kind of people we are and the family structure that we have, our lives don't lend themselves to these letters. If we did publish one, chances are great that we'd alienate many of the people we send them to or at least they'd look at us ever more skeptically than they already do. But if we did write a holiday letter, here's what it would say:

Mr. Man grows into a man more every day. He began fifth grade with confidence and has found his footing in his upper elementary class. His matter-of-fact approach to chaos and challenge are an inspiration to me. He is concluding his fifth year of martial arts training and is looking for a new and exciting physical activity to keep his body strong. While he loves video games, Minecraft being the latest obsession, we believe he will be one of the rare gamers with washboard abs. He loves physical activity, loves to challenge himself and has amazing balance and strength. A pull-up bar is soon to be installed in his room.

In the fall we moved to House of Eris West 3.0. We weren't looking exactly, but a good opportunity arose and we took it. More space, same price, two floors, utility room for washer/dryer. All on our list of must-haves. It's a quirky space that took us a while to settle into. We're still working on small design and decorating elements to make it just right. It seems the cats, Mr. Man and his moms are all pretty happy with the change.

Our family grew stronger and larger this year. My wife and I celebrated our long-awaited Tipping Point and we threw a big bash. My wife's man became my man, too, and we learned new poly lessons about sharing. I added to our tribe with a man of my own, who has his own wife. For those counting, that means my wife has two partners and I have three. Scheduling is a bitch, but our family has found a constellation of people who add even more to our already beautiful and rich life.

My wife toggles between periods of really good days and challenging bits. She started having a "good spell" around the time of our move and immersed herself in Occupy Wall Street actions. She had about three weeks of largely symptom-free days and for a moment I think we forgot she was chronically ill. We were really thrown for a loop when that ended. Nonetheless, this fall has been a productive time for her, both with activism, her spiritual practice and her business. She's on the verge of stepping her professional activity up a notch and we're learning the best ways to do that, hoping that her health will continue to cooperate.

For me, this year has been about promoting the things in my life that support my mental health. I've lost weight, changed my eating habits and have become much more active. I've been regularly bike commuting since August and have developed a love for Crossfit. I felt like I had a handle on things in early fall and decided to try life without an anti-depressant medication. The verdict is out on whether I need it or not. In the time since I stopped taking the meds, my boss died, my work life exploded and we moved unexpectedly. Things have certainly felt harder in the last few months, but I'd like to hang out for a bit longer to see how I do.

This year is also the year our family kicked the sugar habit. In early January we stopped eating processed sugar as much as possible. I no longer bake and we don't buy sweets or dessert when we're out. It is actually a pretty hard addiction to curb, but we've done very well. I think all of us feel much better when we don't consume sugar, most notably Mr. Man's mood seems more stable.

There are plenty of things that haven't changed. Chester, our needy, frat-boy cat, continues to pee in inappropriate places. Pumpkin, the black cat, is his same old ornery and feisty self. We continue to live happily without a car, with Mr. Man and I biking most places. My wife has the worst lot, stuck in the rapidly-deteriorating public transit system for hours every day ferrying Mr. Man to and from school. We continue to love vegan living, and added green juices to our diet this year with the help of a new juicer. Our life continues to be wonderful, full of both joy and challenge and a healthy dose of gratitude.

The Air I Breathe

Here on the precipice of Equinox the landscape seems vastly different from Lammas. Clearly there has been growth, for now all around me I see bounty and beauty. Like the cycle of the garden, some of my personal bounty is withered and dying and returning to the Earth to fertilize future growth. I'm enriching my soil. In other areas I see nothing but fresh fruit, ripe for picking and enjoying.

Mr. Man has settled comfortably into school, such a relief from the difficult adjustment he had last year. I think I see the hint of pride in his eyes as he describes how he confidently began to dig into his work on the first days of school. His teacher agrees that he has matured so much.

My wife, ever the amazing woman, still wrestles the beast of migraines. Like the stock market recently she has great good days and awful bad days and it's anyone's guess what's the cause. Tonight she seems taken by some crazy food poisoning or food allergy reaction that's had her puking by the side of the road and huddled over the toilet all night. In her weakest, sickest state I still find her beautiful and powerful.

The joy of the start of school is that once again my wife has need to pass by my office on the way to and from school. I've seen her three times so far this week for lovely lunch, coffee and kissing breaks. Her face brings pleasure to my otherwise painful work day. I pity the other schmucks around me who don't have it this good.

My own wellness is at an all-time peak. I'm riding to work every day and enjoying crossfit classes. In July and August Mr. Man and I rode three 28-30 mile rides. I'm stronger and leaner than I have been in at least two years and I feel fabulous. Aspects of my life are stressful and busy, but I feel well-balanced enough to ride the waves instead of get pulled under.

There's even new joy in my life in the form of a suitor. It's been years since I've started a relationship with a new partner and I'm finding this beginning to be particularly sweet.

So you see, bounty is thick in the air I breathe. Happy Mabon.

Light Returning

As the light returns, I reflect on darkness. The last year felt dark much of the time. It was the most challenging year our family has faced. My wife's debilitating pain and persistent migraine symptoms had quite the ripple effect on our family. I was lost in a world of hopelessness and despair where I was unable to help those I loved most. How I wanted to take away her pain, dizziness, nausea, etc. How I wanted her to have a functional life back. I could do nothing. The love and comfort and support I gave, while significant, felt worthless.

My wife was gone in the darkness, unable to reach out to anyone. Alone, she summoned all her will to stay sane through the pain and watch many aspects of her life slip through her fingers. The wife I loved for over 17 years had gone away in many ways. I thought of the foreigner who inhabited her body as the stunt double who got her through the dangerous times, but who you could tell was not quite the same. I loved her stunt double with all of my heart because I knew the real player would one day come back into her role.

Amidst her pain and isolation and its impact on me and on us, there was Mr. Man. He's a hard nut to crack, so his feelings were tough to get to, despite my repeated trying. How do you parent when the landscape of the family suddenly changes? I worried and I fretted and I hoped the stress wasn't taking its toll on him. Most of how we coped is a blur to me. Months of one mom being broken and one mom overfunctioning. Neither scenario was healthy, but we did our best. The only answer I had was to love him. The only lesson I could think to teach was that change and challenge happened, but that love would carry us through. I pray it was enough.

As fall rolled around the corner, my wife's migraines lessened somewhat, enough that we operated in crisis mode less each day. What came next was a wave of awareness that as her symptoms subsided we would not magically pop back to "how it was before". We had weathered this storm and come out of it differently. We marveled at what we had survived and familiarized ourselves with whom we had become in that process. It resembled dating with its fears and uncertainties to uncover and new connections to make.

Our post-crisis debriefing process enabled us to move forward together in positive ways. Debriefing allowed us to make plans for what might work if we encountered similar situations in the future. Grieving together for what the last year had stolen from us was cathartic. My wife's personal exploration of the inner hell and how she coped helped me to understand and support her. As the days grew shorter we brought more understanding, forgiveness and compassion into the light. We shone more light on what our life had become and how it might be different now and the future.

This solstice as I rejoice in the return of the sun, I remember most solemnly the darkness that passed over us the last 16 months. I honor our family's courage in the face of the darkness. I praise the spirits and forces that guided us through treacherous sections of road. I am grateful for the friends and loved ones who supported our family in many ways, known and unknown.

There will be darkness again. We know the wheel turns. I may not know what lies ahead, but I know we are powerful enough to step into the light again.

Power Tools

I was in the kitchen packing lunches when I heard, "Mama, we have an interesting request."

This is what greeted me.

Why, yes, that is Mr. Man's finger stuck in the hole of a wooden Brio train track. The things 7yo boys do when they're supposed to be sleeping!

Olive oil and soap didn't work. We resorted to a wood saw (which only my wife would have on her pocket knife) and a drill.

After three drilled holes and some sawing later, the finger was out and no blood drawn. Victory!

Quote of the Day

As Mr. Man crawled under our bed (at my request) to fetch a ball of yarn, he found a few other things. He pulled out my eye pillow. Then he said, "Here's a funny hair tie."

Funny, indeed. He wasn't far off in its round, black shape. Any bets on how old he is when he gets the explanation of how a rubber O ring comes to be found under your bed?

Recent Events in Pictures

For our 16th anniversary, my wife and I did what Oregon residents can now do - register your relationship. So romantic! The city employee in his jean shorts and sneakers handed us this lucky certificate:

Mr. Man cut off all his hair. The green mohawk was temporary, however.

One week of his summer camp was unexpectedly canceled, wreaking havoc on our work lives. However, I worked from home one day and in the afternoon I took him to the amusement park at the bottom of the hill. Even though it's in walking distance, this is the first time we've gone since moving here two years ago. It's great fun! Here's Mr. Man on the family rollercoaster. Notice the position of his hands.


Now look what he does when a cute girl asks if she can ride with him and dares him to keep his hands up the whole time!


Then came the first of the nieces. Welcome Molly Elizabeth!



Visiting Molly and her parents meant spending 4th of July weekend in Seattle. Mr. Man insisted on visiting the Fremont Troll.


and picking the troll's nose.


We played on a super cool playground.


And visited our friends J and Z where we ate at an awesome vegan sandwich shop. This is dessert.

Still on the Road

Last year on this day our family was en route to Portland. Specifically, we were in the town before Green River, Wyoming on I-80. It was the calm before the storm and the friendships of the adults on the trip were still somewhat in tact.

We're settled in Portland now and I am grateful. This week is our Portland-versary. We'll march in the peace march next weekend, just as we did last year, except this year we'll know where we're marching.

Mr. Man and I bum around town on warm days like today, only to return home to snuggle mountain. There is beauty everywhere I look.

spring has sprung!

The daffodils and crocus are in full bloom. There are bushes and trees flowering. We picked up this bloom to give to my wife.



The forecast calls for snow on Monday.

The Cat's Meow

When we returned from our trip to Seattle it was clear Pumpkin the Cat was unhappy with our absence. We fed him ounces of extra love and attention. For two whole days he didn't bite or scratch us. Clearly, he was sick.

My wife dutifully carted the cat off to the vet, only to learn he had a bladder infection. She brought back a $120 bill, antibiotics and pain relievers (for the cat). While he may not have been in pain, the drugs didn't stop his constant diarrhea. Regular readers will remember that Pumpkin is not the neat and tidy ass licker.

Three days ago he pretty much stopped eating and what he ate he just vomited back up. My wife and I drew a line in the sand a long time ago about who was the poop mom and who was the throw-up mom. We were clear about the distinction, but the topic pertained to our son's bodily functions, not those of our cat. Cat vomit and diarrhea are exponentially more disgusting than anything that has thus far come from our son's body. With neither of us willing to stake a claim to a particular substance, we shared the duties.

On one occasion when the upward convulsions overtook the cat and I knew he would soon throw up, I experimented with a technique I use for Mr. Man when he is sick. The bucket. If you can't get to the bathroom, you throw up into the bucket. Since I'm not the throw up mom, I hate holding the bucket or dealing with vomit in any way, but on this particular evening, my wife had just gone out for a walk and the cat was about to hurl. So I grabbed a bowl and put it under his mouth. Turns out cats aren't like kids. In my efforts to catch the disgusting vomit and prevent yet another carpet cleanup, I followed him around with a bowl under his mouth. He just kept moving away from me until finally instead of just one pile of puke, there was a trail. Mental note: don't use the bucket method for a vomiting cat. It's futile.

Thursday morning my wife took the cat back to the vet, helpfully also a cat hospital. She proceeded to do something I didn't think we'd ever do in our life. She applied for a line of credit for pet health care. The vet anticipated no more than $800 if she ran all the possible tests.

Friday night we brought him home with a mere $250 bill and no explanation as to what made him sick. However, he's not vomiting and he's back to pooping "normally".

My wife loves to remind me that I was the one who suggested we take in the cute mewing kitty that appeared in our yard that fateful October 13th two years ago.

Winter Starts with Family

I had a marvellous three days off work before traveling to the five-day family extravaganza in Seattle with the in-laws. I got to take Mr. Man to his winter camp for three days. Going to school is usually my wife's privilege, but not last week. I spent the first day off downtown in the library and cafes finishing my paper. The quality of the paper is appallingly bad, which is similar to the quality of the educational standards of my particular university. Nonetheless, I'm done class for a while.

The next day I cleaned the house and baked amazing amounts of vegan cookies, bread and candy. I had not made vegan candy before, but I enjoyed making caramel and almond/walnut brittle. Both turned out very well. I also made two kinds of cookies - spicy oatmeal with raisins/chocolate chips and peanut butter. The oatmeal cookies are better; the peanut butter are extremely rich, almost like fudge. For lunch on Friday I made homemade corn dog muffins - cornbread muffins with sections of veggie dogs baked inside. They were super yummy and a great treat for the train ride to Seattle.

On Friday we packed and closed up the house for our trip. I hope you all did your part for world peace on Global Orgasm Day. We did.

The trip to Seattle was enjoyable. We got one of the cool seating areas on the train with a table. We were next to another two-mom family with 2 daughters. When we arrived there was debate about whether the whole family should go out to eat, but since it was Mr. Man's bedtime, I decided to stay home to put Mr. Man to bed. I enjoyed the quiet time alone to read for pleasure. I started reading Mad Cowboy, which ironically also intrigued my brother-in-law, who was born on a farm in northeast Texas with plenty of cows.

Saturday started with massive cleaning and organizing to help my brother and sister-in-law, who recently moved into their new house, after gutting it. I helped organize the kitchen, unpack and clean. I enjoyed helping. Each of required brief excursions out of the house in order to escape the insanity of the parents. Astoundingly, the entire family ate my vegan chuckwagon stew for dinner.

Sunday, being Christmas Eve, gave the pagans solace as the four Christians went to two different church services. My wife and I enjoyed the unique pleasure of flipping around cable stations.

Christmas Day greeted us with the general present opening, followed by a pancake breakfast. My sister and I planned out dinner preparations and started by baking pies. I made my first vegan pecan pie, with fresh pecans that we shelled ourselves (courtesy of the Texas family farm). Vegans sat at one end of the table with their tofurky, dumplings, gravy and veggies. The omnis sat at the other end with a big hunk of prime rib. My sister and I had an awesome time cooking together. The cranberry pecan stuffing and green beans with sauteed onions and pine nuts, both vegan, were enjoyed by all. An hour after dinner we had dessert and I'm proud to say my pecan pie was awesome and disappeared well before the non-vegan pumpkin pie. The rest of the day was spent playing.

By the time Tuesday rolled around we were ready to be home in our own little two-bedroom apartment. Our cat was in serious trauma over our absence, even though a friend came and fed and visited him. I anticipated the worst about this visit and it turned out to be quite nice, laced with a just-bearable amount of parental insanity.

Time Stamp

If you had asked me at 8am this morning, I would have told you that today was going to be a horrible, no good, very bad day. At almost 9pm, I'm here to tell you it rocked.

• 6:45 am: Mr. Man wakes up in our bed [We've instituted Friday family bed night.] and asks if he can go play. The answer is always a definitive yes because he occupies himself while his lame ass mommies get a few more minutes of sleep.



• 7:30 am: Mr. Man comes back from his room and announces he wants breakfast. I get up and make him oatmeal. I eat leftover mushroom stroganoff from last night's dinner.



• 7:45 am: Mr. Man decides he wants to watch the rest of the Heffalump Movie which came yesterday from Netflix. (Sue us - he finally succumbed to the damn ads that precede the one and only video he owns - Mary Poppins.)



• 8:00 am: If the Heffalump Movie isn't bad enough, the cat decides to take the mother of all dumps. The stench wafts through the apartment. Some of you who know our cat may remember that he neither remembers to fully cover his shit or to take a shit gracefully. You might also remember that he has very long hair. Chalk this up to a cat smearing shit around the kitchen floor at 8am in the morning. I am tired. I have cramps. I am hormonal. I run to the sleeping wife and insist she must come help me. I clean the cat shit off the kitchen floor only to find that he'll continue smearing it around until we get the gobs off of his tail. The wife and I trap him in a tub full of water. This is the only positive use I have found for sliding shower doors. Yes, it sounds cruel, but we leave him in there until he's sloshed around enough to get the shit off his tail. We've covered the bathroom floor with towels to soak up the shit water that is likely to come off of him when he emerges. (Trust me - we've done this before.) Fortunately he comes out clean. Let's just say I was a tad bitchy to the wife during this process. Mr. Man is all the while watching the Heffalump Movie.



• 8:30 am: The three of us snuggling on the couch conclude the viewing of the Heffalump Movie. We go to the bonus features on the DVD and find a recipe for the type of cookie the Heffalump likes. Pumplerumkins or something stupid like that. Mr. Man decides we should make them.



• 9:00 am: The baking commences, followed closely by a coffee and cookie breakfast.



• 9:30 am: I scrub the kitchen floor. My wife goes back to bed.



• 10:00 am: Mr. Man and I begin making salt dough for holiday ornaments. We rolled out the dough, used cookie cutters and Mr. Man put all the holes in each one so we could insert a string when they're finished. The first two dozen ornaments are baking and we make braided candy cane ornaments with metal hangers with the rest of the dough.



• 12:30 pm: I begin making a menu and a grocery list for the week. I hear the gate open and there's a knock at the door. The woman from NWVeg has come to deliver the basket of goodies we won at the Vegan Holiday Festival two weekends ago. It was like Christmas. In the basket was 2 books about food, a cookbook I really wanted, a bar of soap, a gift certificate to a vegan grocer, 3 boxes of Fantastic food mixes, 2 cans of Amy's lentil soup, a head of garlic, an acorn squash, 3 gravy mixes, 2 Peanut Better peanut butter spreads and 2 Bumble Bars. I might even be forgetting something. It was awesome. My wife rouses herself to come see and we sit down to a bit of lunch.



• 2:00 pm: I get input from everyone and finally finish my weekly menu plan and grocery list. The list is massive. I slowly entice Mr. Man to come to the store with me. We have no idea how we will carry everything back home the 3 blocks from the store.



• 3:30 pm: Mr. Man and I finally finish shopping. He got tired of pushing the cart and eventually climbed in the cart. I piled everything on top of him. Our cart was overflowing. We checked out and I asked the clerk to pack as compactly as possible since we were on foot. By the fifth full bag he said, just take the cart home. I said, okay, we'll bring it back. "No, don't bother bringing it back, he advised. We give the homeless $1 for every cart they return." There was a dilemma I wasn't expecting. Mr. Man loved pushing the cart three blocks home. As it was I carried one bag and the cart was still full of bags. We had to work tag team to get the cart up the hill to our house. We wheeled the grocery cart right up to our door and unloaded it. What fun.



• 4:00 pm: I proceed to reorganize the fridge and pantry to make room for all the food I bought.



• 5:00 pm: I begin making vegetable chowder for dinner. Mr. Man decides he wants to eat the pomegranate we bought at the store. None of us has ever had a fresh pomegranate. My wife conducts internet research so we know what to do with it.



• 5:30 pm: The pomegranate has been scored and is soaking so we can easily peel of the husk to reveal the juicy kernels. We have agreed to sprinkle the seeds over ice cream for desert. In the meantime we eat dinner. The vegetable chowder was okay, but not the best recipe to come out of the Uncheese Cookbook.



• 6:00 pm: We all strip the pomegranate seeds from inside the fruit and have dessert. I loved the seeds. Mr. Man was 75/25 in favor and I think my wife was the opposite. Nonetheless we had a great time with a new fruit.



• 6:30 pm: We attempt a family game of Parcheesi, but Mr. Man tires and we suspend play.



• 7:00 pm: Mr. Man goes to bed. I venture out into the blustery, cold night with a shopping cart. I return it to the store and pick up the tea we forgot to get.



• 7:30 pm: I watch the tail end of the Veronica Mars episodes my wife is watching.



• 9:00 pm: My wife is in the tub. I'm in bed under blankets. I might go make almond biscotti. I might curl up with my sparkly clean wife in bed.

Learning a Lesson

This morning, like yesterday, my wife and I enjoyed a few late-morning snuggles as Mr. Man occupied himself playing. A few stolen caresses at the 7:30 am hour as opposed to the 5:30 am hour are glorious. It's sort of our unspoken tradition that on weekend mornings I get up with Mr. Man and lure him into the kitchen for breakfast (which we typically do brunch style) while my wife steals a few more precious minutes of sleep.

This morning, I began making biscuits and tempeh gravy for breakfast while Mr. Man played PBS Kids at the kitchen table. Things were going smoothly and as usual, I asked Mr. Man to go gently tell his mother that breakfast was ready. She appeared a few minutes later and we were all seated at the breakfast table ready to eat.

I explained to Mr. Man that he must try a biscuit with the gravy on it, as it was the primary source of protein this morning. He proceeded to throw a temper tantrum, complete with pinching my lips in an effort to make be stop saying what he didn't want to hear. Of course the screaming came in the middle of a bite of plain biscuit, so in addition to tolerating the most obnoxious behavior we had to prevent the choking and vomiting that ordinarily occurs when you inhale food mid-scream. We quickly timed him out to his bedroom to calm down, but largely our primary purpose was to prevent us from acting on our intense need to make him shut up, be rational and behave.

In the precious quiet that followed in the wake of his retreat to the bedroom, my wife and I quickly checked in about how we felt and what we should do. Not a good way to begin a morning (especially with a nice breakfast spread out before us) and my wife's first instinct was to give him up for adoption. I could hardly disagree. While we were negotiating the consequences of his actions and how his lost privileges would totally fuck up our day, his door opened. He comes back to the table slightly less rude and says, "I'm going to teach one of you a lesson." Uh-oh, I think. Round two. He proceeds to explain (aka demand) that my wife try a new food, too. He tells her she must try an apricot while he takes his test bite of gravy biscuit. They proceed to both try their new food and the rest of the meal goes off without a hitch and Mr. Man's mood is much improved. He proceeds to eat more than two-thirds of the biscuit and gravy serving.

Despite the fact that it's easy to believe that my child is out to make my life a loud, screaming fit of a living hell and act like a demon incarnate, I know this is not the answer. In his own way today, he was looking for a way to exert his own influence. Most of the day, people outside of him give him anything from orders to suggestions. Do this. Don't do this. If you choose this, you also choose that. To him it must seem like everything that happens to him happens because someone outside of himself told him to do a certain thing. How frustrating it must be to feel bereft of internal stimulus about major life patterns. He pushes against us so much perhaps because he needs to hold the reigns himself a bit more.

As a parent it is overwhelming to know when to set healthy limits and create boundaries or when to let him sit in the driver's seat. I want him to feel he is able to control or not control his life as he chooses, which means he must have the opportunity to learn how. If I give too many orders or instructions, he might begin to think that the only answers lie outside of himself, that only others can tell him what to do. That road is not far from another path I am familiar with, that of thinking that only others can tell you that you are good.

His tender heart and mind search for understanding of his place in the world, and as one of his few guides, I have no answers for him. I, too, am learning lessons every day.

Beautiful Poem

With your beautiful eyes, I see a gentle light
my blind ones could never see;
On your feet, I bear a burden
my lame ones could never bear.
With your wings, I fly though featherless;
By your mind I'm lifted ever upward;
At your whim, I pale or blush,
cold in the sun, warm in the cold of winter.
In your desire alone is my desire;
my thoughts are forged in your heart,
my works are breathed in your breath.
Alone, I am like the moon, itself alone;
our eyes see it in the heavens
only as the sun enlightens it.

- Michelangelo, 1534

I discovered this poem while reading The Sacred Depths of Nature by Ursula Goodenough. This book is an excellent example of how scientists can understand the physical world and from this learning find deep spiritual meaning.

Pespective on Wealth

I'm not poor, I simply don't have enough money [to support two households]. I am rich in ways that are more valuable than wealth. Perhaps my discomfort with our shortage of money is rooted in being so rich in other ways. My wife and son are beautiful blessings. Our home is safe and welcoming and conflict-free (save for the occasional temper tantrums...). Love, humor and creative abound in our lives.

It's as if I've learned the difficult part of living and am tripping on the mundane motions that are required to "survive." I am able to intuitively parent my child and help instill pagan and nonviolent values, but I am unprepared to decide whether to buy cheap, less nutritious food to feed us for a week or more expensive vegetables and whole foods. I can attune myself to my body's cycles and am capable of caring for my soul, but I wring my hands over the reality that our life insurance policies will lapse.

The veil of security I so desperately cling to exposes how far from poverty I truly am. The man who panhandles outside my office each day and who sleeps on the Springwater Corridor does not contemplate life insurance premiums. The dozens of homeless folks sleeping on the sidewalk on Burnside do not question whether to get broccoli or 99-cent pasta at the grocery store. That I have the luxury of these dilemmas makes me rich.

The beauty of the present and my many riches drives me to secure the future. I want to insure more todays.

Each day I go to work for a division that supports the affluent and acquires the investment accounts of more millionaires. I spend hours handling account size data, knowing the people I serve aren't burdened by my dilemmas of groceries vs. creditors. Do I want their wealth? No, but I do want their ability to insure the future.

When I release my fear the only shoes that fit and that I like are my own. So I'll continue to walk, carrying all my riches with me as each day like today becomes the future.

Night Stage in Portland

Last week was Michigan Womyn's Music Festival, which many of our friends attended. Our family reminisced last week and randomly discussed where the girls would be and what would be happening on the Land. Well tonight it was our turn to enjoy spirit-filled and land-inspired music.

Here in Portland there is a 15-day free music festival in Washington Park. Last Thursday we went to a Taiko drumming concert. On the way to get our seats in the beautiful terraced amphitheater surrounded by a huge rose garden and overlooking the city, we were offered a program by a festival volunteer. I declined, but my wife accepted and perused the program before the concert. Good thing she persisted because she learned that Rhiannon (one of our favorite MWMF performers) was playing tonight!

So we planned ahead and my wife packed a backpack full of essentials - napkins, utensils, blankets and coats. We went to Whole Foods and bought some great food from the deli for dinner. It felt like going to the Night Stage at Festival with all our provisions.

Rhiannon came out and the first syllable that came out of her mouth gave me the chills, just like her sets at Festival. She did some of our favorite songs as well as ones we'd never heard and, of course, her famous improvisation. The audience didn't fill up the amphiteater, allowing Mr. Man plenty of room to run around. We actually got to enjoy the whole concert!

Our commute home on the train and our local bus was beautiful. The sky was dark blue and the city skyline was lit up. Even though we've lived here for 5 months, we've never had the opportunity to see the city at night because we're always putting Mr. Man to bed. Tonight was a rare treat. While we waited for the #70 at Rose Quarter, I snuggled Mr. Man and wrapped him in a blanket to keep him warm. He fell asleep on the bus ride home and I carried him the 4 blocks home.

The dark, cool night embraced us as we headed home to put our son to bed. It definitely felt like Festival to us. For a finishing touch, my wife used her flashlight so she could see to open the front door. You would have thought we were camping in the woods of Michigan.

Fantasies

As mentioned yesterday, I'm quite happy with many, many aspects of my life. But along comes a day like today and I'm overwhelmed by the F&A about how little money we have to get essential and non-essential items. We've had tight times before, but since the move I feel deprived. I don't think that we've been in this position of having to forgo essential items like clothes, haircuts and food since Mr. Man was born.

This post is purely indulgent--a way to give life to the daydreams I harbor. Perhaps by voicing them, the universe will breathe life into them.

• I have a really, really full fridge with tons of fresh fruit and vegetables (all organic). There are rarities like heirloom purple and green tomatoes, baby bok choy, endless avocados for homemade guacamole and fresh basil for pesto. Each day brings two new pints of local berries. The freezer is stocked full of yummy vegan protein sources - bacon, sausage patties, neatloaf and soy chorizo. There is a non-stop supply of soy yogurt, as we empty a large container every other day. Even though we don't need the sugar, we can make chocolate-peanut butter cream pie because we have all the ingredients. There are at least two kinds of Stumptown coffee beans waiting to be ground. Two bottles of wine are available for dinner guests and a six-pack of Oregon-brewed beer is chilled for dinner.


• The sitter arrives at 10am after we've had a family brunch. The fridge is stocked with wholesome lunch and dinner options for Mr. Man and the sitter. My love and I catch the bus to the Hawthorne, Division and Belmont areas for a day of window shopping. We eat Thai or Indian for lunch (my choice) and head downtown for a stroll through the Chinese Garden. While downtown, we stop at Paddy's and have a few drinks--the really good whiskey, of course. We head to the Baghdad for a movie or catch a show. When we come home, Mr. Man is fast asleep and we crawl into bed to collapse after a very difficult day of nothing but fun.


• I take off one morning and head to a funky salon to get a haircut. My split ends land on the floor with a thud. I trim off 3 inches of the length and the stylist uses the fun curly product to produce maximum body. On a whim, I add some stripes of blond color.


• I am a bike commuter and I easily negotiate the transition from the sweaty commute into professional attire. I have a messenger bag for the few things needed for the day and other personal care items are stowed in my storage sacks on the back of my bike.


• Alternative Outfitters just shipped my order for two pairs of shoes - one sexy pair of black heels for work and a light sandal option for jeans day. Deva has shipped two items of clothing for work - both are machine washable, professional and unique. I browsed at Nau's new shop in the Pearl and purchased two items of completely sustainable outdoor apparel.


• My wife's multiple birthday gifts are wrapped in homemade wrapping paper and merely waiting for the day to come. All of my friends and family got a card and a homemade gift from me for their birthday.


• Mr. Man has socks that fit him and he has shorts and a clean shirt (not a t-shirt) for school, even though we haven't done laundry in two days. His winter coat is hanging in the closet in anticipation of the cold season.

High

I knew this city was cool, but I feel like only recently have I realized how much in love with Portland I am. Despite the recurring F&A (my wife and I abbreviate fear & anxiety) about going bankrupt, my mental health baseline is better than it was in Michigan. Is it this place? Is it that we're slowing getting settled and are really only missing 3 pieces of furniture? Is it that my son and I are slowly becoming bikers in a city that worships at the foot of chainrings, calipers and forks? Whatever the cause(s) and despite the 9-5 stint with el corpo, I am happy.

Mr. Man and I have been biking 10-20 miles for the last two weekends. Next weekend we're registered for the Portland Bridge Pedal. I have no idea if we'll finish the entire 14-mile event, but we'll give it our best. We'll do the 6-bridge event, which includes two high double-decker interstate bridges. Check out the Fremont Bridge and the Marquam Bridge. We've already traversed the Hawthorne and the Steel Bridge on our local rides. We live about 6 blocks away from the trailhead to the Springwater Corridor, an old rail line that was converted to bike path. Our 4.5 mile trip to downtown is through protected wetlands where we can easily spot a dozen herons and other migratory birds. We can stop for gallons of sweet blackberries anywhere along the trail and rest by an eagle's nest. We ride along the river and can rest on picnic tables, benches or stone art. We have taken the Hawthorne bridge across the river into town and today we learned that the Steel Bridge is far friendlier because bikers and pedestrians have a special route on the lower deck next to the freight and Amtrak rails. All cars, buses and the lightrail (Max) thunder across the river on the deck above us. We can ride up and down the river on both banks through a waterfront park or an esplanade.

It's simply beautiful to bike here. Everywhere I go with Mr. Man, people comment on his cool bike and how great he is doing. They're right, of course, but it's cool that this community sees how hard he is working and urges him on. He always gets comments from passers-by. He is strong and dedicated to biking. On Thursday we were taking a new route with a steep downhill toward our local creek when he got going too fast, braked too quickly and wiped out. He skinned both knees, but took serious layers of skin off his right elbow. In super kudos to me, I don't freak out as the blood begins dripping off his elbow onto the street and his shrieks begin. Some neighbors come out and patch him up (complete with the awful stinging of hydrogen peroxide! Yikes!). Nothing slows him down and we were back to steep downgrades on Saturday on our 8-10 mile ride.

We explore more each weekend, but we have barely scratched the surface of biking possibilities here. I've checked out two books from the library on local rides (ranging from 14-100 miles). We can get up to the Columbia River, cross it and bike around Vancouver, WA or head east through the Columbia Gorge and the breathtaking cliffs and waterfalls. There possibilities are limitless. We're loving it. I haven't had a chance to take an all-day adventure on my own, but hope to within the next month.

When money is plentiful, Mr. Man and I fantasize about getting Ama a cruiser so she can join us on journeys. We've seen ones that we like in nice shiny colors with a basket and wide-ass tires complete with whitewalls. Every time Mr. Man and I pass by a cruiser, we comment on how it would be good for Ama.

So, to review - I really like biking. I really like this city. I have an awesome family. I'll be finished with school in May. Our house will sell and we're getting rent from the new owner in the meantime. We're starting to find other queer families through monthly events at the Q Center (Yes, we have a queer center!). I'm happy and satisfied.

Release on the Road

So my intentions to post every day since BikerBoy got on the train haven't been realized, as you can tell by now. In short, the days before the trip went like this:

Day 3 - Realization that change was coming. It finally hits me that I have a new job.

Day 4 - Party Day. Mr. Man has 12 ~5yos running screaming through the house for 3 hours for his unbirthday/farewell party. This is followed by a wonderful party thrown for us by friends. Amazing vegan food, drinking and a great grownup time.

Day 5 - Work and Pack. Work and Pack. Stress. Work and Pack. Work and Pack.

Day 6 - Last day of Work. Stress. Work and Pack.

Day 7 - Load and Pack. Clean and Pack. Pack some more. Amazing friends help with all of this.

We were slated to leave early Wednesday morning, but we were delayed because there were more errands and yet more packing. We actually left around noon, just in time to hit Chicago traffic at rush hour. We sat on the highway parking lot for hours and eventually made it to Davenport, Iowa. The last 20 minutes was spent in a horrible storm - huge flashes in the sky, torrential rain and hail. In the morning before leaving Davenport we went to the Mississippi River.

On Thursday, we traveled from Davenport to Omaha. Iowa is beautiful and very sensual. The hotel in Omaha was downtown. The staff was amazingly unhelpful once we realized that the truck wouldn't fit into the underground parking lot. In general the service was very bad. The hotel gave me flashbacks to the hotel in Angel.

We spent the first part of today visiting the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha. They have a huge indoor jungle and rainforest exhibit with animals and birds and all sorts of stuff open and all around you. There is also a huge dome with a desert inside it. The aquarium was also very nice. This gave Mr. Man time to have some fun, which was much needed.

Nebraska is not Iowa! Let's talk flat for miles around. It's nice in it's own way - a great wind across the open space, but not much to make the driving easier. We made it from Omaha to Oglalla today. Another big storm front moved in so we were happy to get off the road. When you're out in the open, the storm fronts look huge!!! One cool thing is that Nebraska must be on the migration route for cranes. There were thousands of these birds all around - on the ground, in the sky, etc.

I guess it's Nebraska where there's nothing to do or think about in the great expanse except sex. We were goofy today and the tension among the 4 adults is high. The women of the trip, well, let's just say we communicate. When hotel plans were being made for a 2 bedroom jacuzzi suite, we started thinking of adult options for the group. When that hotel fell through because of the cat, Lovely Librarian Lady devised a plan to give my wife and I some much needed time together.

In perhaps the most irresponsible move since we Mr. Man was born, my wife and I sent BikerBoy and Library Lady to the pool with Mr. Man while we had a much needed quickie(s) to release some energy. It was all very good until BikerBoy returned with Mr. Man for a potty break. Enter lots of giggling and furious attempts to cover the birthday suits. Somehow BikerBoy missed all the planning we had done to orchestrate this event and was quite confused. All went well, the pee break finished and my wife and I got back in the sack. I'm quite relaxed now and can continue into any weather up ahead in the mountains.

Catching Up

Yikes. Over ten days since my last post. Updates in brief:

• I only made it to Thursday and then we went out to eat. So easy to cave...


• On Friday of two weeks ago I spent the day interviewing 6 candidates to fill my position when I leave. None of them are prepared or possibly able to face my daily workload. The experience of interviewing candidates with a Board member and my boss was a unique one. There's an entry to this blog entitled "Dufus, Sourpuss and Miss America" that will never be posted for legal reasons. Inquire in person if you want me to characterize the day further.


• I had an informal interview with the manager who is losing her staff person due to the internal hire. She seems interested in me and I like the sounds of the job. I expect to go through a more formal interview process for this position in the coming week(s). Meanwhile, the HR department from the company contacted me to say that they are considering me for another position and I should hear from the manager to schedule an interview soon. My favorite line from her message was when she said "and if he is as impressed with you as Pat was, then we may want to fly you out here." Anyone else hear that maybe the airfare lands on their credit card instead of mine? I'm feeling good about this company - especially now that they're considering me for positions for which I didn't apply and advocating for me to get the position higher on the hierarchy. (This new position reports to a VP instead of an AVP or a Director.) So I interview with the VP on Wednesday.


• In other good employment news, I got a call for a first interview for a position with an employer that offers really great benefits and has a good salary range. The web page describing employee benefits actually mentions domestic partner. I was really happy to get this call. I interview with them on Friday.


• On the home front, we had a crazy, trigger-filled 20 hours with my wife's parents this weekend. In theory this should also be the last visit we have with them before we move, as they go to Florida for the next 2 months. Let's just say they have a hard time thinking about anything else other than their million ailments and how the world is out to screw them (as rich white Republican rural folks). My wife wanted to cry from the moment we began driving home. We raced across the state at speeds of 85mph to get to a birthday party Mr. Man was attending. We arrived only 10 minutes late. The party was at the Y, so my wife and I got a day pass and spent over two ours walking together and working out to burn off the stress and frustration of the parental contact. As a bonus, we got to soak in the whirlpool together.


• Today was designated a cleaning day. At breakfast I announced a great plan to reorganize Mr. Man's art supplies to make them more accessible. We had been talking recently about going through his toys to decide which ones he didn't play with, which ones were for littler children and which ones were simply "cheap pieces of plastic crap." While I was cleaning up breakfast he marched upstairs and started to bring his first load of toys down for processing. He and I spent at least an hour going through ALL of his toys. He put a LOT into the "go" pile. I am so proud of him. We consolidated his toys easily by half. The only thing we didn't tackle were the stuffed animals. After a day's worth of work, the office and the living room are much more organized and pared down. My wife did a great job taking everything off the porch that we don't want to give away and loaded up all the stuff that we do want to freecycle on the porch so it can be easily distributed. We're getting it together!


• I tried a new recipe and made some biscuits for breakfast and they were pretty good. They weren't light and fluffy, but great with the vegan sausage and bacon and/or margarine and jam. In an effort to begin celebrating Imbolc, I made a pot of Brigid's soup containing all red ingredients (kidney beans, carrots, tomatoes, veg stock) and pureed most of it. Mr. Man ate it up! It was very tasty. We discussed transformation (and did some in our home) and fire and Mr. Man did a lot of creative things today. We're planning to make flaming bananas as a treat on Wednesday night. Stay tuned, I've never flamed anything before...


• If the flaming goes poorly, there's always an insurance payment to get us out of here, seeing as the sale of the house is stalled again because the buyers are having trouble getting approved for a mortgage with a real lender. Damn.


• On a personal level, I've put concerted effort this week into getting back onto the Weight Watchers plan. After growing out of most of my business clothes and gaining about 15 pounds in the last year, I had enough. I remained on plan all week. Instead of binge eating, I've taken up binge sleeping. Mr. Man and I are fighting a bit of a cold. On at least 2 or 3 occasions this week I went to bed with him at 9pm and chose not to get up and do work, sleeping through to 6 or 7 am.

I hope more frequent posting will resume, especially given the minimum of 2 interviews I have this week and the potential for things to fall into place for another trip to Portland.

P.S. Don't accidentally put a full bag of carrots into the freezer instead of the fridge. Once they freeze solid, they don't really thaw out into their old selves.

Highlights Part II: The Return

We departed Pennsylvania on Monday morning and made it to the state line by 3pm, which was good timing. As we were about out of the state, I got a call to learn that my Mom was being admitted to the hospital because she was having difficulty breathing. So the visit that started with Dad in the psych ward ended with Mom in the ER.

My wife was not feeling well most of the trip and wondered about the onset of a migraine. Midway through Ohio we were certain and by the time we reached Ann Arbor she was at a 10 for pain. Her sheer will got her home without puking. Mr. Man did not fall asleep as I anticipated so when we arrived home at 11pm this was the scenario:

My wife runs into the house, ignores the cat who is desperately seeking attention and beelines to the bathroom to begin puking. I carry the few essentials into the house with Mr. Man. I put the food items in the kitchen and he and I head upstairs. I know my wife is puking and I HATE puke. I yell at Mr. Man to run and hide in his room. He gets upset and goes back to his hissy fit about how he wants to assemble legos. My wife needs water, so I go and get some and give it to her with my eyes closed so I don't see the puke that has gathered in the bucket. I go back to the screaming child and dodge the bites and scratching of the cat, who is still desperately seeking attention. I try to get Mr. Man settled but I'm flipping out about the puke and the sheer chaos of everything and I'm not helping anyone. When I return to the bathroom my wife, who is smart but not lucid, has begun dumping the puke down the drain in the tub - which promptly backs up. There's absolutely no way I can deal with that, so I flip out some more. I forget what happens next. My wife tries to clean up the bathroom and console my son. At some point I go back in with Mr. Man and I help him calm down, explain why I'm upset and we go to sleep. My wife sleeps in the bedroom alone and in pain.

The next morning I am supposed to go to work, but my wife is still very sick and cannot be with Mr. Man alone, so I stay home. I am worn out from last night and I have little reserves to call on. After cleaning the shit off the wall and floor that the cat left for us, I begin putting legos together with Mr. Man, who is very hyper. Let's just say I won't kill you, but I'm not a very pleasant mom to be with.

It's at this point that I realize that I used every ounce of energy to get through the visit with my family and that now I have nothing left to call on. When we were visiting my family, my wife and I made it through and supported each other, for which I'm grateful. Now I'm just mad that everything took such a toll. Regardless, I feel worthless - not able to care for my son or to help my wife.