The Glory of the Brightest Eye Blinking

I've not been too much in a blogging mood lately, but they do start to feel like obligations. Maybe to break the spell I'll try going to the topic that I love best.

We were at the kids' school this morning to read to them. On Brian's class bulletin board they had colors and each kid had to describe them; for example, one kid had "Green is... like an apple growing". Alan didn't do this exercise but Brian did and I thought his answers were particularly evocative (even trying to imagine them without my obvious parental bias :-)):

Brown is... the spring mud oozing between my toes.

Orange is... a playful dog's warm fleece.

Purple is... the royal king swinging his cape.

White is... the glory of the brightest eye blinking.

Really, where do they come up with such things? I think we're raising a poet.

I don't like to post just on one kid without equal time, though, so... The other day I was at my computer and Alan was behind me with paper and scissors on the floor. He was abnormally quiet for the sort of kid Alan is, and after some time he tapped me on the shoulder and gave me this:
This work is entitled "Alan and His Papa Playing Together". For him to put that much attention and planning into a project he thought up himself was very special to me; it went right up above my desk. If I owned such green leggings and a purple onesie I'd wear them just to match the feeling I get from such works of art :-).

Speaking of Curiosity...

We had parent-teacher conference last night. I'm fighting off a bug but had to go; I don't think most parents could stand to get such information second hand. We all sit out there in the hall, nervously awaiting the verdict about our children's education, the details that are so hard to divine out of the accounts of 1st graders. They generally think the only salient events of their school day involve who brought what to lunch or who got in trouble :-).

We got there a bit early and Rob took a seat outside the door while I read through the adorable poems our kid's class had on their bulletin board in the hall.

From behind me I heard a boy, about the age of 12, come up and ask Rob, "Are you Brian's Dad?"

"Yes, my name is Rob; what's yours?"

The boy said his name and quickly and nonchalantly shot off, "Where's Brian's other dad?"

At that I turned around, a bit surprised an older kid we didn't know would come to ask that and so plainly. I said hi and introduced myself as he offered to shake hands. I recognized him by his mother's attention as the older brother of one of Brian's classmates, from a family we hadn't socialized with much.

Then he asked me where I work, followed quickly by "Which one of you was Brian's dad first?" This kid was quick with the questions. His mom interrupted before I could answer. She apologized, assuming the question was offensive. I assured her it absolutely was no bother, and we're used to such questions. Very often people assume one of us must have had our children in a heterosexual marriage, never considering we may have got together a decade before their birth. I just told the kid becoming fathers happened at the same time for us. His mom jumped in with an "Isn't that great?", one of those nice injections in casual conversation I've noticed other parents will give to let us know they're okay with our family. You just wouldn't say such things about heterosexual couples, and so it must be code :-).

At that, without pause, he went on to "What gym do you go to?" Giving him the benefit of the doubt--that this wasn't some stereotype ;-)--I told him, even though I probably should get some more exercise, we don't go to a gym, and that was that. He moved on to quizzing another set of parents waiting for their time with the teacher.

It turns out this adorably inquisitive and matter-of-fact kid goes to the same school and has some form of high-functioning autism. What stands out to me, of course, is the fact that another family there, one we don't know very well, seems to have felt fine discussing "two dads" with their children, and made clear to their kids that's okay, "great" even; though yeah, I know "great" means "okay" and it's just difficult to know how to put it :-). I eat such assurances up, knowing what they mean for our kids. Though his mom feared her son made us uncomfortable, I hope I got it across that I found the conversation heartening and found her son's forthrightness refreshing.

And on top of that, we left the conference inflated with the wonderful reports from their teachers. I keep going to these things nervous and leaving feeling ridiculous for the nerves, but what you gonna do? It's in my nature to be overly concerned about them. We do still have this "problem", I say, knowing full well I'll sound like one of those insufferable parents :-): "Brian is well above grade level in all areas", and Alan is "right where he should be, high first grade", and the problem is they tend to compare. But Alan has really blossomed into his own skills over this year.

At the end of each of these I always have to ask, just in case the teachers are too unsure how to bring it up, if our family is ever an issue or if there are any problems on that front we should be aware of. But nope, it's all clear, if not better than that. Heck, if our family ever needed to call independent witnesses for our defense, with the way their teachers talk, they would be the first people I'd call. Still and of course, I know we'll have to be vigilant and make some tough decisions to keep it this way, to keep them buffered from the rough waters of politics and religion out there.

Curiosity

I've been going the rounds over on Evan's blog about gay parenting. It's taken up all my blogging time and so I'll just link to it as my mid-week post :-).

here

The post that spawned all that commenting kind of reminds me of the time Brian came home from school the first day and started running around the kitchen yelling "mommy, mommy", an event I related, here.

In Evan's post an account of one of Rosie O'Donnell's sons is related. In it he is said to ask why he doesn't have a father and that is used by Bill Maier to argue against same-sex parenting. Of course, a child's wondering about the way his family is should not be a big deal and no one would judge heterosexual families by celebrity parents (I hope); anyway, I went over all that in those comments.

Still, I'm kind of left wondering, if that truly is the case for the O'Donnells, why it hasn't been for us or really all the children of same-sex parents we know here I can think of (and you bet we nervously ask each other about such things at our monthly get-togethers). The topic only comes up with our kids if we bring it up, aside from that nothing of an event I mentioned above. Our kids simply show no idea there is a "thing" about our family's difference, and, frankly, while I'm happy for that, it's kind of surprising. I've been bracing for at least a tough question here or there. I remember even a jewish friend telling me how different she felt her family was early on here in Utah, but our kids just don't seem to notice and their classmates don't seem to care.

Maybe the fact that they aren't even curious about our difference is a bit more evidence that things are changing quickly, even in Utah. If only it happened a decade before we got here.

Weekend

Not much of an event, as this is not an election year, but on Saturday we had the Salt Lake County Democratic Convention. Both Rob and I are delegates, and so we are both obligated to go and represent our neighborhoods, even if all we have to vote on is vice chair and maybe the secretary. Our chairman ran unopposed, but he's a good guy, brought into politics during the gay clubs fights many years ago. It just seems important for our representatives to see us involved, to keep us in mind; not to mention the fact that I want our caucus, the Stonewall caucus, to remain the largest in the county.

Because our only trusted baby sitters are out of town, the boys got to go and they were amazing in their patience and silence as candidate after candidate came through to ask for endorsements. To look at them you'd think they were 100% engrossed in their coloring, but Brian must have been listening as he asked me what "redistricting" means on the way home :-).

I hope they do take something away from such experiences. I hope they fold them into their future as a normal part of being a citizen. I have only been so involved in politics for about six years now, and it is clearly no coincidence that our boys are six years old. Their birth changed us in many ways, of course. I regret that it took becoming a parent to put a fire under me, but without them I'd probably be content as just another quiet guy, concerned mainly with what goes on in his home and his lab.

However... Sunday we spent the morning up in Ferguson Canyon. I used to spend a lot of time hiking and rock climbing up there with friends as a teen. Man, I remember going up there some weekend nights... It's a good thing I was always the designated driver, as wild teens and cliffs at night do not mix well even while sober :-). It's surprising, in retrospect, no one got seriously hurt. Anyway, it's one of our favorite places to take the kids nowadays.

We hiked up and sat by the stream and let the kids play with the dog in the water for about an hour. Nothing but the stream, my husband, a canopy of trees and the sounds of our kids playing... I just wish it didn't take Saturday to protect Sunday.

A Not-So-Grave Marker

Brian asked if he could go outside this morning with a piece of tissue in one hand and a paper in the other; I said yes and watched him go out to the garden and back. When he came back in I went out to find this monument:
This post is dedicated to all those ants needlessly killed by bathwater each year.

Refrigerator Door

Something different.

Naturally, when you find a drawing like this, you wonder what your kid is picking up from other kids at school:

At first look it seemed to capture the exact sentiment I'd like to put across to a certain local senator, and the legislative leaders here who say they don't disagree with him...

However, when asked what the hippie there is doing with his hands, Brian said that dot on what appears to be the middle finger is actually the "o" in the "okay" sign. Upon further questioning, it seems that's intended to be the meditation fingers. You know: the sort you see folks hold under bodhi trees. It seem Brian thought those in deep meditation were just sitting there signing "okay", which, I guess, isn't too far off.

Aside from his new artistic direction, he's just began taking a strong interest in math, to my excitement. I've been introducing him to the basics of algebra, and he is absolutely eating it up, making me write down an equation for each letter of the alphabet each night this week. I swear, I don't push this on him; I am, though, happy to oblige :-). He did this one yesterday:
I only had to give him some help on only about a third of them.

Of course I certainly wouldn't leave Alan out of this refrigerator door blog post. Our boys are just so different; it's very easy for Rob and I to find unique ways to connect with each of them, but Alan's interests leave less of a paper trail.

He may not like math like his pop did and does, but he likes many other things. We make a lot of Lego structures and vehicles together, when we aren't in a pitched lightsaber/martial arts battle. He's more rough and tumble and, to that end, he does do something on paper I remember doing a lot as a kid:
We play this game, the result of which is above, where you start out drawing your character and then take turn dreaming up ways to beat the other in "war". I know, I may not get the parental peace prize, but Alan was the McCain supporter last year in our family, and just because "armies are pretty cool". In that one he started off as the moth-man and I was the tank that eventually surrendered, after my moth-man-eating plant, and sonar-locating-of-invisible-moth-men bats died. Alan seems to win every time :-).

Anyway, I guess I was just sick of anything serious today and finding the "peace man" was just what my day needed :-).

The Man Behind the Header

Of course, our kids don't get to read this blog :-). When they're older, I wonder, though, if they'll ever care to go through the many posts about what's gone through my head in this period. Will it matter to know how the politics were, or why we live where we do or did, or why I got stressed with every legislative session and the sorts of things it literally brings to their front door? Though I live in a town where most folks are supposed to keep a record of some sort for their kids, it's still strange to think the adults they will become may someday read what their old man was thinking when at their same age.

I mean, I can remember the week the realization hit me that my dad is just a man and my mom is just a woman, just as human as the rest with fears, mistakes, and conflicting emotions. Don't get me wrong, they are great, good and strong people and great parents, but, when you're a kid, parents have almost magical qualities as providers, nurturers, teachers. It's no wonder it's common to keep all that behind a supernatural curtain even after you've seen behind the mortal curtain.

I'm certainly not saying it's a bad thing to come to that realization as an adult, though. My parents, they may be human, but they are some of the best humans I know and I cherish our relationship; besides, every person on a pedestal is done a disservice. I guess I'm just wondering how much I'd care to read through their thoughts. If our adult boys ever do read back through this, though, I'd want them to know what I hope they know by heart: that I love them with all I am. I'd want them to know that I desperately hope the decisions we make, especially in this next, precarious year, are made correctly. And if they aren't, I'm sorry.

Anyway, all that wondering came to mind just because there's a new picture in the header here; my mind does ramble :-). They may not understand a blog, but every now and then Brian has noticed his old drawing in the header, and he didn't like how big he made Rob.
FYI, I'm the littler guy with the big ears there. He has been trying all weekend to get me to put a new picture of us "on the internet", and thus the header change. Though I'm attached to the old one, I've changed it. I wonder, when I'm 65 and they're 36, if they'll still do my artwork; thing is that's about my current level of drawing skill right there :-).

My Yearly Christmas Problem

My kids, they are nearly impossible to shop for for Christmas.

They aren't like I was as a kid. I was obsessed with Transformers. Each new Autobot or Decepticon may as well have been a crack rock. I'd go through the toy magazines and mark them up with ranked desires, and leave them out for parents or Santa to stumble across. I was, in short, way into getting gifts as a kid. That seems like (and was) childhood selfishness, but looking back now it had an upside for my parents; they had it easy.

Our Alan, though, he asks for very little. Usually it's something like a specific stuffed animal, and trying to get him to list more only sets him firmer in his insistence that that one thing is all he wants.

Brian, well, he usually wants the unattainable (by mankind or by children): a real blue light saber, a purple magic wand (must also be "real"), a red cell phone, a blue camera. This year all he wants is a silver laptop, which he, as a 6-year-old, will not be getting, and a trip to Hawaii, which he, as long as we can come along, will be getting. Fortunately, Brian isn't the sort of kid to be upset by not getting a laptop, though he'd be thrilled to get one.

Between the two of their lists there's nothing to make a big eye-popping scene of under the tree for when they wake up, and so I'm improvising again.

I've got a bunch of stuff they've not asked for from white boards for their bed rooms to Wall-e action figures. I'll be going out and making more guesses tomorrow. I'm pretty sure on some of the stuff I already got, knowing our boys. For example, Alan will go crazy over the punching bag I got, and Brian, I'm sure, will carry around the thesaurus just as he does his tattered dictionary now. But I thought I knew they'd love the parakeets last year too, and now no one in our home likes those noisy, messy and vicious flying vipers. In short I guess, each Christmas I wish my kids were more greedy, or, in Brian's case, had more practicality to his material desires :-).

You know what's odd? It seems, if it's a toy or product advertised for children on the TV, my kids won't care for it. Never have they asked for anything they've seen a commercial for that I can think of, and that's the exact sort of thing that, when I get it for them anyway, it just ends up at the bottom of the toy box. It's not that we don't let them watch tv, either; we're not above using the electronic child mesmerizer every now and then. They just seem to have different tastes from what the commercials are selling.

Anyway, do any other parents out there have some good, alternative gift ideas for the hard-to-shop-for child? Quirky things that your kids like that may not be on the radar?

It Took A Political Scandal...

...to make us decide to get Brian's haircut before the holidays.
Curse you Blagojevich!

Welcome

I just thought this was cute.

A refugee family is part of our holidays this year. They're from Africa and Brian wanted to write their son a card, as they are about the same age, to welcome him.
I printed out one of the journal pages so he could add a picture too; that's a butterfly and a bee hive dripping with homey on the tree.

I love seeing them take this kind of interest on their own. I only had to tell him to probably not wish a Muslim kid merry Christmas. I also love that he thinks the important things to know about Utah is that it gets cold in November and pizza should be given a chance.

And yes, I'm the one who told him how to spell sincerely wrong :-); he'll be a much better speller once he stop's asking me how to spell.

Laundry

Sometimes I lose track of our children when we're tying to get ready for school in the morning...

Tough Religious Question

I'm kind of tired of the serious. I've been wanting to share this semi-serious anecdote for a while though.

We attended a baptism not too long ago. It was the baptism of the oldest son of one of our good friends, another family who was put in legal limbo with Proposition 8!

Okay, okay, I know. Focus...

We've tended this boy since he was a baby and he's been a friend to our boys and so we wanted to be there to support him. Also I wanted to show the boys what a church service is like, to address the eventual curiosity.

We are not Episcopal, though I've respected them for their strong focus on the teachings of Jesus. Also, I was impressed with the minister's understanding of the origins of the Bible (is that what they are? Ministers?). He actually admitted imperfections in the text and gave examples of scribe-inserted changes, books about Jesus that the early Catholic Leadership left out, and conflicting accounts that were left in when they compiled the Bible, but only to emphasize that the exact wording and assurances of inerrancy were distracting from the core of the teachings of Jesus. None of us left interested in becoming episcopal--I know we'd still have many differences regarding what can be a justifiable belief--but I left with a new respect for them.

Anyway, we're sitting there waiting for the baptism, trying to do all we can to be respectful in our participation, but not disrespectful or patronizing in participating too far into something we don't hold true. Eventually they got to the Eucharist and the minister, along with the congregation, begin talking about the blood of Christ and the flesh of Christ as they prepared the sacrament up in front of us all. Then people began filing up to perform this ancient ritual of bread and wine (Which they all drink from the same cup! Score one for the LDS and their hygienic, if-not-totally-green individual paper cups.).

I felt a tug on my arm as we were waiting for the ritual to end. It was Alan and he asked, "Papa, are they eating a person?" :-). I hadn't noticed how unusually quiet he had become next to me. He paid attention to nothing there but that, of course.

Now, this is not an easy question to answer, and this was not a conversation I anticipated, as I probably should have. This breach of such a strong taboo was likely chosen to be shocking and thereby powerful, and it is, but over the years it's lost shock value... not, though, for a person hearing it for the first time apparently. Do episcopals believe in transubstantiation, anyway? I doubt it. Nevertheless, people have been killed over similar questions, and early Christians were hunted down like witches for their practice of "cannibalism".

I just told him "No, it's symbolic. That's just bread and wine to us." Then realizing another can of worms opened up... "Symbolic is kind of like pretend but it has important real meaning to them. It's important to them. But yeah, eating a real person would be disgusting." (I wanted to make sure I didn't come off as condoning cannibalism :-))

Anyway, I thought that was cute... and a bit disturbing. Did my kid really think I'd take him to a place where they ate human flesh?

One last thing: we've been to a couple churches for several reasons in the last couple months. From the episcopals to even the New Age temple we visited they're all a lot like a LDS church, but for one thing: cry rooms. I never noticed this before but I remember the Baptist having cry rooms for fussy babies as well. They're nice too, with a sound system piped in from the pulpit, toys for the kids, and a glass window to watch the service along with the congregation. LDS parents IIRC go out into the hall and listen. There's got to be some deep sociological reason behind it. Something to do with baggies of cheerios and back rubs :-).

Busy Day, and Phychic Powers

Let me see if I can explain how impressive my man is. Yesterday we woke up, he prepared and got cooking a ham and a turkey. Then we went off to karate, and then right off to the anti-prop 8, pro-marriage rally at the city and county building.

We then hurried home, where, within an hour, he finished off the ham and turkey, separating the white from dark meat while making the gravy.

Then we arrived, just in time, for the thanksgiving party for our group of same-sex headed families.
We had a lot of fun. It was held in one of our member's church, which was much better than the cramped quarters we used to use; the group is just getting to big for homes and the GLBT center. It's just nice to let the kids socialize and run wild, while the parents get to commiserate about politics; is there a sound more joyful, though, than the sound of a herd of children chasing each other? It's hard to commiserate with all that laughing :-).

We had a surprising amount of new members: people with infants and some grown families moving into the Salt Lake valley. One couple moved here from Ca to be around family, which made me reconsider our thought of moving away. But their family was completely on their side, not part of the politics fighting against us, and not part of the predominant faith here. So there are some differences; besides, we'd be taking the grandparents with us.

After we were stuffed with stuffing and turkey, we headed up to the candle light vigil at the capitol.
Here we were trying to spell out "EQUALITY" on the lawn. You can see it partially done by ksl's coverage, and it eventually got done, but it was tough to fight the wind and shelter the flames from going out faster than we could light them... There's an analogy in there somewhere :-).




Also, I thought this was cute: On the way home, Brian asked me what a mutant was (something he saw on T.V.?). I explained again about our genetic codes and such and then talked about some special mutations humans sometimes have. We talked about some genetic and semi-genetic differences humans have, like albinos, dwarfism, perfect pitch, and synesthesia. With each they were more and more enthralled and I was loving it.

After we talked about synesthesia and some people "hearing" sights and seeing numbers as colored, Alan wondered if some people can hear other people's thought. I told them that was called telepathy, and, without telling them what I believed, I asked them what they thought.

On the freeway on the way home we ended up conducting many experiments, trying to read each other's minds (and me trying to teach a lesson about science and skepticism :-)). Most tests were, of course, unsuccessful... but when it was my mind's turn to be read I picked a thought and thought hard, and they tried to hear me.

Alan asked if I was thinking of our dog and I said no. Then Brian asked if I was thinking "I love you."

I was! I laughed and said "Yes, how did you read my mind?" Wondering if I'd now inadvertently initiated him into new age magical thinking :-).

Brian said, in his little kid incredulous voice, "I didn't read your mind; that was just a lucky guess."

I'm lucky for many reasons. I'm lucky to have two sweet boys and an amazing husband. I'm lucky to have these teachable moments. I'm lucky, even in Utah, to have groups of tens and hundreds and thousands of activists and families to gather and hope with us.

I'm especially lucky my son finds it to be a good guess that his pop is thinking "I love you".

Bullies

A couple days ago Brian came home and he suddenly started crying and wanted a hug. Eventually we got out of him that a girl was very mean with him and told him he was too little to be in 1st grade and called him a baby. I, admittedly, got furious. They are the youngest in their grade and they are little but who the *bleep* does she think she is, right? Someone would teach her a lesson. I reflexively wanted to tell him to tell her “I’m in the highest reading level in our class and you’re not. Maybe you’re too stupid to be in 1st grade”, but, of course, I didn’t :-).

It was a chance to learn a sad lesson about people for Brian, though, and we talked about it quite a bit.

He is such a sweet kid and doesn’t have anything near that kind of cruelty in him, neither of our boys do. They’ll fight over toys and tease each other for laughs, but I can’t remember them saying things just to be mean like that. What to do?

I did some research and found out that the child has problems at home, and at mother’s visiting day yesterday I watched her (I wrote more about Mother’s Visiting day at the isocrat blog). I can see what the problem is, the mother understands, and it’s not just with Brian, but he’s more likely to take it personally; Alan is so much more carefree with his feelings. So my plan is to bring it to the attention of the teacher and ask her to keep an eye out for now. I want to protect him, but know part of learning in school is social learning about how to manage these situations.

It does cause worry though, specific to us. When I first heard him say a girl was mean, I immediately thought she may have picked on him because our family is different. I can only hope other parents will do their part to make the learning environment civil and inclusive for all children or there will be a situation. I have to hope we can continue to keep the outwardly benevolent hostility nurtured here by our predominant culture out of our home and school. But people who vote to bully us out of equal protections have children too, I'm sure they pass on their bias, and we will interact. Maybe we can do it civilly. If not, though, I feel I’ve got armies of potential waiting to deal with that moment, and we will.

All that aside though, yesterday at Mother’s Visiting Day was wonderful. I learned about vertebrates with Brian, I sang a song, played dodge ball, and wrote a fairy tale with Alan about a talking leaf and the sun. We are so lucky to have the school administrators, teachers, and parents there that we do.

Roadie

Brian wants a badger.

It will be named Roadie, it will live in our back yard, and we will feed it pumpkins, because that is what badgers eat, apparently. Furthermore, it will be mostly purple and will not be like your typical badger in disposition… or maybe I’m a badgerphobe? Maybe to say you're being "badgered" is just as unjust as saying something is "so gay"? Either way, I’ve been assured this one will be well mannered and gentile.

So we are in the market for a badger.

To this end, we bought a pumpkin a couple weeks ago (not for lack of trying to grow one). This pumpkin was placed in our garden, at Brian’s direction, in order to lure the creature, and the fruit sat there for many days without event.

Now, though, it has disappeared, vanished. Only the dry stem was laying there in the garden, just as though it was the inedible bit of a purple badger’s snack. This, of course, caused some gaping smiles because, really, not even Brian thought that would happen. He was pretending just for fun, like pretending we were in the Star Wars universe, but instead of light sabers we get badger pets.

I am a scientist and am, of course, purple badger agnostic--some neighbor kid probably went to pick up the mushy thing, the stem pulled off, and he ditched the rest of the evidence--but Brian says he thinks he may have heard Roadie in the trees the night after the pumpkin disappeared.

I think I like Brian’s hypothesis better; too bad it doesn't work that way :-).

Hand Holds

I used to rock climb quite a bit, before our boys were born. Once, due to a mistake of communication and a blinding overhang (note: not hangover), I almost dropped a friend to a rocky riverbed and, long story short, I caught him and dropped the desire to do that again.

A couple days ago it felt kind of like it did when, while you’re ascending a new climb, you look around to be unable to plan an obvious route to the top. I couldn’t see what our next move should be, with family, law and the simple geography of where our family should live. Really, I still don’t know how to surmount those large questions. Nevertheless, it seems the analogy holds in that you don’t really need to see every move to get to the top; you know others have done it on far more difficult climbs. You just need to see how to move one hand or foot even an inch higher, and you’ll eventually find a higher place on the rock for your other appendages.

So I'm feeling good after inching up a bit in a couple areas.

Family: My Father in-law, well, I asked him if he’s been involved in any the pro-prop-8 movement, making calls or asking his congregation to act on it, and he told me no, he hadn’t. But that was it; his reaction was abrupt, the sort that says "no but let's not get into this". Okay, I learned the minimum of what I needed to know. I can live with leaving it at that without a debate on what the LDS church is doing. I love my in-laws and it continues to hurt us that they indirectly support people working so hard to undermine our family, but it’s not direct support. Maybe I’m a hypocrite for not holding more ground, but I see the way Grandpa is with our boys and I can swallow some of it for now, rightly or wrongly. Maybe these are things that defy measurement anyway.

On my side of the family: I came home from work to find out that, after my mom read that “go viral” article, she spent the day calling all our family and asking for their help and asking about what they’ve done on Prop-8. There was some good news and some bad; sadly, the wedges have been driven deeper for some others, but my family is still attached to the bulk. I’ll deal with the bad new when we have to all interact again. But it was a great blessing to find out that my mom had done that. I feel grateful and phenomenally lucky to have the parents I do. They have always understood and are probably the reason I have the home I do; they gave me the freedom and example to do so all the way back to the day I came out. I’ve been too lucky both as a father and a son, and may deserve to be told to shut up when I complain too much about the extended family (Note: not a license to tell me to shut up. Shut up are the only two words that are "a bad word" in our home.).

Doing Something: I spent my lunch calling organizations. If only the gay community were more like a church or a business. If only it really had a monolithic gay agenda. But no, there’s a bunch of people with a bunch of aims and we’re brought together by others' bias and demonetization, sometimes literally by our local culture. No one really had an organized reaction to the interstate LDS push, and we really need help getting organized here. One local community leader suggested that the members of these various boards should meet once a month, just to know what everyone is doing (I think that’s a great idea and hope it’s implemented). Anyway, I’m going to try to help put something together; just waiting a weekend for suggestions from HRC. I know whatever we come up with may not do much, but it's something.

PTC: We had parent teacher’s conference and our boy’s are doing great. Scholastics come much easier for “way above grade level” Brian, but Alan is not struggling either; he’s “where he should be”. Their teachers told us they are doing great socially and have a lot of friends. Hoping to head off any problems, I asked if our family structure has been an issue in any way. They both separately gave back a quick no, almost shocked that I’d ask. They both even went on to compliment our family for our extra involvement and familial support. One said "Everyone here thinks so highly of your family and I can tell your son has all the support he needs", and the other said "I wish we had 20 more like him". I eat that stuff up :-).

I think we’ve been very lucky with teachers and parents at their school. While it is predominantly LDS, it seems to not be your typical suburban Utah political atmosphere; most don't seem to be buying what their leaders are telling them about our family. Or perhaps it just changes the atmosphere by breathing it and giving others the chance to see us for what we are, instead of amoral monsters backed by activist liberal judges out to destroy The Family (TM) and convert their children (Brian’s teacher even has an Obama pin… Brian must have convinced her in political debate ;-)).

So maybe, as a repeating theme of this blog, I worry about our family here in Utah more than is justifiable, but not less than I want to; just in case.

Anyway, there are still problems to face, opponents to challenge, and more hand holds to find in this climb to equal rights, but at least we’re moving. In leaning on our loved ones, whatever November holds, we'll be okay and we'll keep inching up.

Oh, and today is National Coming Out Day. FYI, I'm gay. Your 18th (or 19th?) coming out day really ain't that special :-), but kudos and good luck to those for whom this is their first.

LDS Videotaped Conference: Go Viral

Young Mormons urged to join fight against gay marriage in California

In their videotaped conference M. Russell Ballard encouraged young member to "go viral" and told them "God will bless you as you do your part."

Why is not it clear to all how dangerous this is? God will bless you for campaigning against my family, for degrading the union of many children's parents? It is, at best, low to use God for such a goal and it's worse to bribe young people with supernatural rewards. The sad part is that, as one can see in many religions, you will get people to act against and alter their conscience with such talk. It's tried and tested.

Robert Chambers, an LDS area authority for Pocatello, Idaho, wrote in a letter to stake presidents in the Rexburg area. "We ask you to commit initially to a minimum of 150-200 volunteers from your stake."

I have to wonder what my brother and my father in-law are asking of their local members? How can I be around them on the holidays without knowing? If they truly do act to so directly to undermine our home, how could they come into it? This is a mess.

"If tolerance is the premise, it should go both ways," Bednar said. "There could be sanctions against us for teaching our doctrine."

This could almost be funny. Again, I've never once asked for your "tolerance", Bednar, and don't care how you or your faith regards my family or what you sanction in your church. Why can't anyone over there see that? We are asking for morality in your actions in the public sphere, in the sphere we have to share no matter how much sharing it disturbs you. We are asking that you follow the golden rule and stop doing to my family in law what you would never want done to yours.

The funny thing is that, with the LDS church's actions, they are making it far less likely that anyone will care to "tolerate" them down the line if they win this battle. If you want the world to do what you say, you should be an example.

Even more ironic is that the main fears they seem to be spreading regarding Prop 8, like children learning of homosexuality in kindergarten, are going to happen regardless. Our children go to school too. The LDS church seems to think gay marriage leads to gay parents, but why then is Utah in the top three states of the percentage of same-sex couples raising children? We have to live together and unless you want to get medieval, so to speak, our children will be going to school with yours and, just like yours, they should be able to talk about their families and your children should be civil, right?

"Because you are here tonight," Clayton said into the camera, "there is hope for the family."

Yeah, "the family"... I'm sure most watching could feel the love, and the sad thing is that that's not sarcasm. You can't get people to act like this without feeling good.

I'm tired of this. Worse than all that, this morning, after I read this and got all riled up, I was notably short tempered with our boys. They were goofing off while they should have been getting dressed for school and I raised my voice when I could have just refocused them. I'm disappointed in myself that I let the yes-on-8 crusade get into my home; it's just hard to hold the line without a couple minutes to digest new news.

I wonder if we can stay here, or, really, if we should? We are here for family, but there is a wedge there now, and the family we need most, my parents, are retired and willing to go where we go. Or maybe, again, I'm just frustrated and it'll look different later. Or maybe it'd be best for us all if I remained frustrated this time. I don't know.

It's funny; yesterday we were driving to soccer practice and Brian asked if we got new rings when his dad and pop got married in California (he wanted to know if the ring was new because I've told him he eventually can have either the my wedding band or the ring I got the day they were born). I told him no, that we only got married again in California to get new legal rights. He said, "so that we can be more safe and you can't break up?"

He was cheery and nonchalant about it, but I thought of what might happen in November and had to recompose myself before I could answer yes without my voice failing. I can't let them know about this threat, I don't want to tell them if they do take those legal rights away, and I don't want them to see my worry. But it speaks volumes that he has picked that much up, right? He gets it. This 6-year-old gets the importance of marriage, when a church of adults misses the point.

More on the Debate

I asked Brian yesterday if he could tell me other reasons (besides war and peace) he thinks he likes Obama and his brother likes McCain. He thought for a while and said "Maybe because I look like Barack Obama and my brother looks like John McCain?"

I guess he kind of does.

While I would never advise to vote by who looks most like you, I was touched to realize the boys really have never noticed or mentioned the race of even the children in their classes. I hope it goes to show how hard people have to work to make children measure race as difference.

Now, as for Alan and Senator McCain, I wasn't seeing it. No offense Senator, but my kids are the most adorable children on the planet and it isn't easy to compare. The closest I got was in looking back at the baby pictures:

Heated Political Debate in Our Home

This morning I had to document the views of these little pundits:



I don't think we push political views on them, as may be evidenced by their partisanship. I'm disappointed, though, that a negative tone seems to come through in my voice after Alan says "McCain", complete accident :-).

I'm surprised they've picked sides because we don't really talk politics around them that much either, as we don't want them worried about such stuff, just yet--the future of the Supreme Court alone can give me a nightmare--but they pick a lot up from friends, family. They even chose to watch a fraction of the debates with us and with some interest, to our surprise (still that didn't change their minds and they've not been in the " undecided" camp for a couple months now; Brian was a Barack supporter throughout the primaries).

Anyway, the message they come away with is:

Obama = Brings Peace.
McCain = Sends Armies = "Pretty Cool".

Of course it's a mess more complicated than that. I guess I should explain to Brian about the extra troops Barack wants to send to Afghanistan and his expressed willingness to cross Pakistan's boarder. And maybe I should explain to Alan that war is not near cool.

Eh, but I won't, just yet.

My name is Scot and I approve of this message.

It's Happened Already

It's humbling, but I know my weaknesses and can take Brian correcting my spelling, as he has a couple times now. He does it so tactfully too. I'm even okay that he had to explain to me what 'expository' means when he was telling me about one of his stories the other day.

They are growing up and I can take it.

But yesterday I was dropping them off at school and I like to take them all the way in, you know, to see what they have on their bulletin boards and such. I went to leave and asked for a hug good bye. Brian didn't hesitate but Alan whined a "Papa" just like a teenager and motioned his head to two girls waiting to be let into their room.

What?! This is the kid who pats my hand as he goes to sleep, and makes sure I have a pillow and a stuffed animal every night. It's only first grade and his father can't get a hug in front of friends. No one told me that could happen so soon; it's too soon. Curse you peer pressure!