Isobelog

My Day as Irate Berkeley Resident

2009-11-23T13:17:00.001-08:00

Leverage = making it more of a hassle to ignore you than to deal with you.

That's my recollection of a quote my old boss had on his wall at one of my SEIU jobs. Meaning: if you are able to disrupt business as usual, you win.

Right now UC students are trying to disrupt business as usual in protest of huge fee hikes. News helicopters flew over our house all day Friday and for a couple hours today -- filming the demonstrators, who are about a mile away. So I decided to play irate citizen and call around to show how these helicopters were disrupting my business as usual.

1st stop: the police nonemergency number. "Ma'am, the police dept has no helicopters." "Ma'am, we don't control the airways." Finally: "you'll have to call the FAA."

2nd stop: FAA. Appears (from recording) that they don't deal with noise issues that aren't safety issues. Could go down that rabbit hole and find another number to call, but moved on.

3rd stop: UC Chancellor's office. "But they're news helicopters." "Well, I want the Chancellor to negotiate with the students so that the news helicopters will go away." "Okay, thanks." Click.

4th stop: Mayor's office. After a bit of confusion, told him outright that my goal is to tell the Mayor to tell the Chancellor that he has to deal with the students because Berkeley residents are getting pissed off at the helicopters. Will the message get passed on? We'll see.

Thinking of forming a group. POAH. Pissed Off at Helicopters. Or Negotiate with Students so Helicopters Will Stop. NSHWS.

Other ideas?

Stuff I said in kindergarten today

2009-11-17T13:56:00.000-08:00

"Boys can be pretty too, if they want to be."
"What's most important is what makes you feel pretty."

Though one girl giggled, others seemed to listen. Just one small attempt to broaden these kids' perceptions of gender, in the hopes that some time in the future, Transgender Remembrance Day will be just that -- remembrance, not reality.

Yes, they do grow up so fast!

2009-10-09T16:48:00.000-07:00

A FB friend (and kid I knew growing up) posted that his 6 month old daughter has started trying to say words. That prompted me to try to remember when Norrie started talking, and that prompted me to find this post from Angela on our lesbian moms yahoo group, from when Norrie was just shy of 10 months old:

Norrie said her first real word this very morning! She has been practicing "cat" for days now. Yesterday we heard her whispering in her stroller "ga" "ga" after we had seen a cat. As you may know, Pretty is the most exciting thing in the world to her. I was thinking cat would be her first word because she tries to talk to her all of the time. A while ago we started referring to the "Pretty kitty" as "cat" to make the whole thing easier. This morning when we were all together in bed we said hi to the cat and Norrie said "cat" twice as clear as can be - hard "c" and hard "t". It was SO exciting! Two more teeth came in this weekend (for a total of 6) so I think that had something to do with being able to do the "t" sound for the first time. Norrie has been saying "mama" and "baba" and "yum" but this was definitely her first serious word. I'm beside myself with joy today.

Sweeeeeet!

Is this what McCarthyism felt like at the beginning?

2009-10-03T21:55:00.001-07:00

Every great activist I know and love is probably one degree of separation from Van Jones or ACORN. And how odd it feels that these groups I've known for years are finally becoming a household word not for their good works, but in the name of propping up the right wing. It's like finding out your cousin and your high school buddy are being wrongfully accused of murder. Who will be next?

Overcoming pack-rat-itis

2009-09-28T14:57:00.000-07:00

The time has come to admit it: I'm a pack rat. My mother is a pack rat, my father is a pack rat; my sister may have escaped but that's only through sustained effort. My partner is a neat freak, but she also likes to stash things in "special places" that she can never remember subsequently. Even my daughter appears to be a pack rat. She loves saving little pieces of paper and scraps of fabric.

What's a pack rat to do? For now, I have set myself the task of spending 1/2 hour going through stacks of papers, 3 times a week. Not much, but about all I can tolerate.

Today I recycled 3 or 4 inches worth of papers. Some fun themes emerged:

Paid Family Leave background material, from when the law was implemented and I helped write a brochure. What I had saved did not include the brochure I actually wrote, and everything can be found online anyway. Toss.
MY Paid Family Leave material from before Norrie was born. It was fun to reminisce about what I was doing 5 years ago today (preparing to stop work for maternity leave), but I don't need to save copies of the actual forms I gave to EDD. Toss.
Pages ripped out of a guidebook on the Philippines, from when I traveled there in 2003 for work. Okay, so that doesn't really fit into the theme, but it reminded me of what I did pre-kid. Can all be found on the internet now. Toss.

Tomorrow: file the stuff I should keep, but don't need to have easy access to (like taxes from 2005). We have file cabinets in our basement and that stuff will do just fine down there. Make room for files that are actually relevant to my life today!

Baby Kindergartner

2009-09-22T22:14:00.001-07:00

DSC_0008.JPG
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Good friends of ours are about to adopt a baby -- quick quick. They had nothing and we had saved *everything.* So we gave them bags and bags of baby clothes this weekend. We're hoping we'll need it all back in 9 months or so ourselves!

Norrie had a blast discovering her old baby clothes -- and got a big smile on her face when I showed her this photo of her in one of the outfits we decided to keep, one of those full-body gowns to keep newborns snuggly and warm. Such a big smile that she needed to try on the gown herself.

The results speak for themselves. And she's wearing this gown/tight shirt thingy to bed tonight.

2009-09-22T22:09:00.001-07:00

DSC_0043.JPG
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

2009-09-22T22:08:00.003-07:00

DSC_0048.JPG
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

2009-09-22T22:08:00.001-07:00

DSC_0053.JPG
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

"Chopped" for Parents of Creative Kindergarteners

2009-09-09T11:37:00.000-07:00

In this Michael Pollan article, I just learned about the Food Network show Chopped, in which young chefs "figure out how to make a passable appetizer from chicken wings, celery, soba noodles and a package of string cheese." Pollan has observed that the main answer is always to add bacon. And -- on a side note -- he observes that this kind of show bears little relationship to reality: when in real life are we stuck with such a random assortment of ingredients?

That random an assortment, no -- but today my new kindergartener has given me her own Chopped challenge of sorts. Perhaps because we introduced her to this meal wheel adopted by her school district, she picked out a bunch of vegetables at the grocery store yesterday and announced she wants to make a soup. Here's what we've got:

- dried split peas
- white mushrooms, just a few that she bagged herself
- some funky oblong squash
- carrots
- white potatoes

I welcome ideas on how to use all this in a soup tonight! Without bacon.

It's begun!

2009-09-04T22:31:00.000-07:00

Herewith, some photos from the first day of kindergarten. What a big week it's been! Norrie has mostly been thrilled -- she woke up this morning singing "kindy kindy kindergarten!" And you'll see she was a-skippin' to school on that first day!

She told us yesterday that "school is kind of boring," and when asked why, said "because they don't really let us play." My heart sank. It's also been sinking each time she tells us something that smacks of a school factory, like that she learned how to "drop a knee" on the playground when they want all the kids to stop running.

But I did happen upon her joyfully romping with two new friends at recess, playing pirate with nothing but their imaginations, so I felt better today. And certainly we plan to be active parents, so we'll get to see how the classroom is really working.

First day skip to school!

2009-09-04T22:01:00.001-07:00

First day skip to school!
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Holding hands with mama

2009-09-04T22:00:00.001-07:00

Holding hands with mama
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

First day

2009-09-04T21:59:00.003-07:00

First day
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

The walk in

2009-09-04T21:59:00.001-07:00

The walk in
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Baba tears up

2009-09-04T21:58:00.001-07:00

Baba tears up
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Mit schultuete

2009-09-04T21:57:00.001-07:00

Mit schultuete
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

One wedding and a funeral

2009-08-29T07:40:00.001-07:00

A brief jaunt to Boston for a cousin's wedding turned into a trip to the Swan Boats, the Common and Faneuil Hall -- and twice coming across crowds awaiting the procession of Ted Kennedy's hearse from the Cape to the Kennedy Museum on Thursday. While the relatives drank a beer in his honor at an outdoor Faneuil Hall restaurant, I dashed up to Congress Street to see all the black cars go by. I couldn't miss the moment.

The crowds were so thick that I couldn't see much. One woman across the street wept profusely; lots of people quietly clapped; and some waved flags, white handkerchiefs, or signs saying "Labor for Kennedy." Tonight I'll be at the cousin's wedding while every former head of state is at the funeral. Quite a time to be back in Boston.

Crowd on Beacon St

2009-08-29T07:25:00.001-07:00

Crowd on Beacon St
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Kennedy Procession 2

2009-08-29T07:24:00.001-07:00

Kennedy Procession 2
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Norrie Ducklings

2009-08-29T07:23:00.001-07:00

Norrie Ducklings
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Norrie Frog Pond

2009-08-29T07:22:00.003-07:00

Norrie Frog Pond
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Brian Breakdancing 2

2009-08-29T07:22:00.001-07:00

Brian Breakdancing 2
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Blackberries!

2009-07-01T20:59:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite things about my childhood home was the blackberries. We had bushes and bushes of 'em, lining one side of the road up to our house. Blackberries so deep there was no way you could reach them all.

But you could reach a lot, and I did. Every day walking to and from camp or school or the library. My dad would go out a few times a year in protective gear from head to toe, pick tons, then we would eat them with vanilla ice cream. Yum.

There was the one year Paul B., our paper boy, ate enough that we noticed they were missing. He confessed. And there was the year Joanna and I tried to color t-shirts with blackberry juice. This involved a lot of stomping around plastic buckets filled with blackberries, getting them all good and mushy. The t-shirts looked great but by the next wash they had turned an ugly brown.

Fast forward to Berkeley. Every year that we've lived in the house, 9 years now, I have cut back a small, thick, dark green vine that appears in front of our house near our boxwood hedge. This year, I never got around to it. It grew, and grew. Then I started noticing flowers that appeared suspiciously like berry flowers, and then....green berries that turned red and now black!

Norrie tried to convince me it was going to be a raspberry bush -- but the minute she saw the first sign of dark blue, she said "no, mom, you thought it was going to be raspberries but I knew it was blackberries."

I ate my first sufficiently ripe berry today. Bliss!

Sometimes I wonder

2009-06-18T23:16:00.001-07:00

if I would have ended up in the Bay Area if I were 5 years younger. It was the place to go for progressive Brown graduates -- er, that means pretty much all Brown graduates -- in the late 80s and early 90s. The Bay Area, plus Seattle. Or Boston for those who didn't want to go far. Now that I've hooked up on Facebook with neighborhood kids from the old hometown, I see that the younger folk ended up in places like Austin and Boulder. Equally progressive but, I'm guessing, a good bit more affordable. I talked with a local friend tonight who feels like she's paying an awful lot to have crazy people wander down her street and to subject her kids to bad air quality.

And then there's the state budget. Oy!

I was going to write that the Bay Area has one saving grace, which is that it's a pretty good place to be a lesbian family. But oops...we're behind Iowa, New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine, Connecticut and Mass on that front.

Maybe we're still here because of folks like our next door neighbors, parents to Norrie's best friend in the whole wide world. That's worth a lot.

I just hope we can all afford to stay here. Or all go somewhere else together.

Feeling all "in the mix" today

2009-06-10T18:49:00.001-07:00

Great day for getting my opinion out there, and using my skills to help others do the same -- all in the service of social change:

- Posted to my HuffPost blog about being one of the 18,000 same-sex couples who actually are married in CA.
- Successfully pitched a reporter to write front page article in the SF Chron about the launch of online loans to U.S. microbusinesses.
- Had a hand in editing this op-ed in the LA Times about how California can't afford the death penalty.

This is what I love most about my work!

My Family Values Love

2009-05-27T15:44:00.001-07:00

Isobel
Originally uploaded by cerambycidae.

Taken by awesome straight supporter Carol at the Prop. 8 Day of Decision rally.

Infinite deniability

2009-05-02T21:02:00.000-07:00

Took Norrie to see the movie "earth" today.

I'm yet again amazed by the capacity of the mind to only take in what it can handle.

Her film commentary follows.

*** Spoiler alert***

When the wolf catches the caribou: "the caribou went into a hole where its home is. It's in its home now." When the cheetah catches some gazelle-like animal: "I think they're becoming friends. See, the cheetah is hugging the gazelle." And when starving lions are stalking and then attack an elephant: "Their claws don't hurt the elephant because it's so tough. It hurts humans but not elephants."

I think I ruined it all for her when I told her that the polar bear was dying. She would have very happily thought it was lying down to rest.

(In fact, after the movie she told me she didn't like it because the polar bear died. I think I thought I was teaching her some lesson about life, but it's actually much nicer to live in a fantasy world. At least while you can.)

Our Cheeky Baby!

2009-04-07T22:20:00.000-07:00

Happened to pop over to my friend Whitney's blog and find her here. Boy she was a cutie.

And maybe all that signing helped her become a four year old fairy-tale-weaver who wants nothing more than to pretend Grandpa is a hedgehog and Mama is her friend opossum and Baba is her Daddy seal.

And now, in a complete reversal of history...

2009-03-31T20:22:00.000-07:00

Overheard yesterday in a cafe:

A white guy talking about his four year old son.

"He told me I wasn't a man. He said only people with dark skin are men."

"'What?' I said."

"He said, 'You know, like Barack Obama. He's the man.'"

"Yellow Panther" Dies

2009-03-23T13:41:00.001-07:00

Just read a long obit about Richard Aoki, one of the highest-ranking members of the Black Panther Party. Very impressed and moved by his life's work. Maybe it's because I'm spending part of my week at the ACLU of Northern California, which took on the internment of Japanese-Americans during WWII; how could anyone go through what this man went through and not become a radical?

See here for the obit and here for a preview of a documentary about him.

I'm starting to feel like I have the evil eye

2009-03-18T22:02:00.000-07:00

Just got an email that the Parkway Theater in Oakland is closing. Here's part of what they said in the email, also up on their website:

After more than twelve years of serving the great cultural crossroad of Oakland, the Parkway Speakeasy Theater will be closing at the end of business day, Sunday March 23, 2009.

From African Diaspora to Thrillville to lesbian fashion shows and educational porn, the Parkway has offered an eclectic array of movies and events. It was the first theater in California to offer food, beer and wine service in a lounge style movie theater. With a nudge or a push from the community, there was little programming the Parkway theater would not try in order to better be a community center and a safe haven for diverse ideas. The Parkway brought Baby Brigade for the shuttered and abandoned parents of newborns, the first international black gay, lesbian, bi-sexual, transgender film festival and Sunday Salon, a free event for cultural and community enhancement.

After Elephant Pharmacy closed, I started making mental lists of all the community institutions I'd be sad to lose. The Parkway was at the top of the list.

Here's the email I sent to them immediately after I heard the news.

I am sure you will be utterly overwhelmed with emails and I don't know when you will get to reading this. But I want to say I am truly, truly sorry to see the Parkway go. I have a very soft spot in my heart for the Parkway. I haven't been in a long time, but that has a lot more to do with the circumstances in my life -- 4 year old daughter and not much money for babysitters -- than any loss of love. I am sure you will be hearing the same thing from many many people. This is a tough time for so many of us and I understand why you had to make this decision.

I saw some great films thanks to you, but most of all I will just remember the comfy couches and the great popcorn and wine. I will remember going there with my partner way back before kid, taking our daughter there for many Baby Brigade movies (until we realized that, at 11 months or so, she was sitting up and watching the entirety of the latest Batman film), and sneaking out every once in a while when we did pay for a babysitter, and feeling very lucky the Parkway existed.

Thank you for everything you did to provide such a valuable service to the community. You have been a community institution and I am very sorry to see you go. For me, you join the list of places I loved that don't exist anymore, like Elephant Pharmacy and Waddle and Swaddle in North Berkeley, both of which also played very important roles in the 1st years of my daughter's life.

I'm really not exaggerating to say that places like yours are one of the reasons I love the Bay Area. I am really hoping you can hold on to the Cerrito theater. It's not the same, but it is something. (And yes, I laughed when you first came to El Cerrito and made some joke on the video about introducing black people to the neighborhood!)

My condolences to staff and family for this tremendous loss.

With a lump in my throat,

Isobel

Would you join this group?

2009-02-17T12:38:00.000-08:00

So one of my contract gigs right now is doing some work for the local ACLU...I wanted to see how many words were on an old brochure (so that I could write roughly the same number of words for a new brochure), and I figured the easiest way was just to type in part of the content and use word count on MS Word. I did it really fast and didn't look. Here's what I came up with.

The American civil liberties union is the only nationals oganizaiton dedicatd to defending the rights nad greedom of all people.s founded in 1920, the nonprofit nonparisan acul has 53 affilieates nad hundreds of htousansds of membes across he nation. The aclu of nerothern califrnis works to proc vivil liberties thorugought this ddives region. We dfefned your right to speak your mind,mainstina your privacy , nad receive fair treatmen under the law. From fighting police abouse thto ensring reproductive choice, the aclu nc ans bene at the foreforntof every icivil librties battle int eh state sinc e19342. we rpsernt ordinary people – incldig dimmgirnats, people of colr, gays an lesisna, nad students – int eh courts when their righs are threaten. With the support of uoru members, volunttes nad youth activists, we also work iwht eh meida , educate and lobby legisalators, and conduct gasorts campgins to defnen and eavnce vcilc liberties.

149 words!

Five Years Ago Today

2009-02-13T23:31:00.001-08:00

Five Years Ago Today
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

We were at City Hall getting married!

Angela's first words when we found this photo so we could post it today: "we look soooo young!" I was five weeks pregnant with Norrie, meaning I had known for a grand total of one week. Which was such a big deal to me. As it should have been -- because look who we have in our lives five years later.

Yesterday -- Feb. 12 -- was National Freedom to Marry Day. And just like every year, some couples went to SF City Hall to mark the day. But this time they didn't ask for a license to be married -- they brought roses for the City Hall folks who had helped us all be married in 2004 and again this past spring, summer, and fall, until the right was taken away from us. Read the moving article here.

Kind of like Christmas trees

2009-02-07T17:45:00.000-08:00

Old No on 8 signs. Haven't taken ours down yet. And according to the ACLU, they can stay up.

(Not that anyone in my neighborhood has said boo about it, but it's interesting to hear it's a bit of a fight).

Who's Next?

2009-02-04T12:46:00.001-08:00

I am unexpectedly really, really bummed about the sudden closure of Elephant Pharmacy, a flagship store in my neighborhood. I walked by there with Norrie just this past Monday and she said "can we go in to get a leeetle something? Can we go in to get a movie?" She loved this store. She got her 1st lunchbox there....I bought eco-friendly diapers in bulk....fertility tea for me and now for Angela....sunhats....vitamins....fancy diaper cream and sunscreen....and every kind of alternative lifestyle magazine you could imagine.

But perhaps the operative word is "walked by," instead of "shopped at." It's true that I hadn't been in there in a few months. We've really been trying to cut back on all extra expenses and a lot of their stuff could be considered "extras." Which was probably part of the problem.

Just across the street, the delicious (yet admittedly poorly run) Cafe de la Paz also closed recently after 15 years. And down the street, Waddle and Swaddle, a baby goods store with classes and armchair advice, also closed just last weekend. Waddle and Swaddle was a life-saver on many occasions when I needed a place to change Norrie's diaper. Once she and I took refuge there in a rainstorm until Angela could come get us! But I couldn't tell you when I last actually bought something from there.

Part of what I love(d) about where I live is all the rich variety of alternative, funky, and yes, kind of expensive stores within walking distance. Bookstores, cafes, sushi places, clothing stores, collective bakeries, wine bars, drugstores, dry cleaners, grocery stores, everything we need. And a lot of stuff we don't really "need," which is why so many of these places haven't been doing well.

I am afraid something vital is being lost.

Twitter x 365 = Holiday Family Newsletter

2009-01-08T23:00:00.000-08:00

Just posted this to Huffington Post.

My partner and I just finished sending out our holiday cards...er...New Year's cards, featuring an image of our 4-year-old daughter. (Isobelog exclusive: the image is below.) But to some people, especially the assorted older women who love her, we sent more photos and artwork. And notes. Handwritten. Personalized for the recipient. In other words, letters!

Letters are the anti-Twitter. And the anti-Holiday Family Newsletter. Instead of putting out to the whole world how I want to be seen, with little regard for the individual (as I'm doing with this blog entry), when I oh-so-rarely sit down to write a letter, I'm thinking about my last interaction with each person and what I think they'd like to know about.

What amazes me is that I used to take the time to write this type of letter regularly. In college, twenty-page tomes to various high school friends were not uncommon. During this last presidential campaign, a minor stir was created when a man Hillary Clinton had corresponded with prodigiously during her college years revealed her letters to the New York Times. He wasn't particularly close to her then or now -- they just both liked to write, so they wrote to each other. I had friends like that. One fellow letter writer was my high school nemesis of sorts; we liked to get into heated political battles and often ended up pissing each other off. He interned for Congressman Barney Frank the year he came out. Now this made for some interesting reading! (Long ago recycled, unfortunately.)

I suppose it's not coincidental that I chose to write these most recent letters to women of a certain age. They grew up in an era when letter writing was even more common. At 40, I am right on the cusp, between old school and new media. No, who am I kidding - I am old school, but trying my best to keep up. I vow to actively use LinkedIn and Facebook this year. Twitter? We'll see.

When my daughter gets a letter from one of these grandmother-types, her immediate impulse is to sit down and draw them a picture. It's a marvelous impulse, hands-on and personalized, a desire I want to nurture in her. Even though I know she'll surpass me digitally in a matter of minutes.

Groovy Girl

2009-01-08T22:55:00.001-08:00

Groovy Girl
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Our holiday card image.

It finally happened

2008-12-04T21:41:00.000-08:00

I finally got called "old school."

Actually it was a post on a progressive PR professionals list I'm on. Someone asked for an "old school PR expert" to help on a campaign to get Robert F. Kennedy Jr. appointed to replace Hillary Clinton as Senator from NY. The guy said he was great at social marketing but hasn't been able to make any inroads into "old school" media, meaning, I presume, print, radio, and TV.

As an example of his campaign's success to date, he cited the 300 folks who have become members of his Facebook page in support of RFK Jr.

That, in and of itself, speaks volumes about the cultural shift we're living through. 300 Facebook members? I don't think "old school" media care. Show them visits to the governor, calls, emails, letters to the editor, rallies, actions -- I think these are the benchmarks by which traditional media gauge a campaign's importance. How do I know this? Because they're the benchmarks by which I gauge a campaign's importance, and I am often successful at getting media attention based on these.

But the media attention I get is mostly "old school." Occasionally I make inroads into new media, getting a blogger to mention my client or issue I'm working on, but I don't really know who to reach out to, what to ask of them, or how to measure success. It's pretty easy to measure success with "old school" media outreach -- how many newspaper articles, how many TV spots, and how many radio reports did we get on? And everyone knows it's more impressive to get into the NYT than the Oakland Tribune, for instance. I know there are sites like Technorati that measure relative importance of blogs, and I have started blogging on the Huffington Post, but still.....it's just not a world I know well.

I found the guy's post kind of annoying, if you haven't guessed yet, because I didn't appreciate being identified as "old school." But when I think about it, I could just as easily post to a new media group (let's say on Facebook!) with a post that asked for someone skilled at new media to help with my campaign. I could just as easily say "I'm great at getting traditional media coverage but haven't been able to make inroads into new media...."

And I imagine I would get the same advice I gave him. The best way to get attention from a media source is to be a consumer of that source. To follow it, understand what it covers and why; know the reporters and their beats. (See, I did it again -- old school terminology! Reporters? Bloggers!)

National Day of Protests Against H8

2008-11-14T20:25:00.000-08:00

I can't be here because I'll be conducting a workshop with these folks on how to get local media interested in their stories. I wish I could be at a rally, but it's all related, it's all good work, and I'm inspired!

I love this image

2008-11-07T20:53:00.000-08:00

Here. This is exactly how I feel.

Never again

2008-11-03T23:01:00.001-08:00

Norrie, after we had our marriage certificate recorded this morning at the County: "I hope you guys can stay married because I never, ever want to be a flower girl again."

I'm up on the Huffington Post!

2008-11-03T12:17:00.000-08:00

See here!

The Soiling of Old Glory

2008-10-23T10:57:00.000-07:00

Doing some more thinking about my encounters with racism as a child during the controversy over busing in Boston, and how it relates to the battle we're dealing with today over Prop. 8, I came across this photo. And then I check my email and hear about people being called "faggot," being harassed and threatened for holding No on 8 signs in Oakland. In Oakland. In Oakland.

Lexingtonians Unite! No on Prop 8!

2008-10-21T21:18:00.000-07:00

I was beyond stunned to learn today (to the point that I said "those fuckers are from my hometown!" on a conference call) that the latest Yes on Prop 8 features that family in Lexington, the Wirthlins, who sued the schools after their child brought home the book King and King! Their story, which of course has nothing to do with same-sex marriage being legal in Mass., has become one of the rallying points for the proponents of Prop. 8.

Here's an article from a LGBT Mass. paper that explains it all.

I'm taking it as a personal challenge to reach out to everyone I know who has called Lexington home. I just sent out an email and I'm hoping it'll be forwarded far and wide. In fact, I'd like to start a Lexingtonians Against Prop 8 fundraising page! I want letters to California papers from Lexingtonians! I want my aunt, who has volunteered for the Lexington schools for probably 20 years, to write an op-ed explaining what really happened with the Wirthlins.

But in the meantime, as always, you can donate at
http://eqfed.org/equalityforall/fundraising/isobel-695168

One final, very important note: King and King is a fictional tale of 2 princes who fall in love and get married. It's a lovely book. I'm happy to say that the day before our wedding, Norrie's teacher read King and King to the class and presented our family with a paper flower bouquet made by the kids. Now that's love and acceptance. And that's why I love where we live.

Help our honeymoon last more than a month

2008-10-12T20:59:00.000-07:00

Prop. 8 in CA is getting really scary. The opponents of marriage equality have raised for more than our side, and they've been using it to blanket the airwaves with outright lies. The problem is, their ads are working -- recent polls show marriage equality failing and bigotry prevailing. By a few percentage points. A few moveable percentage points, we can only hope.

I have heard this battle called the 2nd most important vote in the nation. A vote not just for LGBT equality (which would be reason enough to vote no) but truly a vote for equality and justice for all, and a vote that will have resonance for so many progressive issues for years to come.

Check out this page we just created on the No On Prop. 8 site to encourage everyone we know to donate. We got a bunch of donations at our wedding (photos to follow, we swear!) but this is a new effort to get our friends and family to dig deep. The campaign needs everything we've got.

Something Borrowed

2008-09-25T21:54:00.001-07:00

Something Borrowed
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Just after getting our marriage license! See Flickr for a few more photos.

First ad for our side!

2008-09-24T22:53:00.001-07:00

Watch it here.

5 Days Til I'm Legally Married!

2008-09-23T21:49:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's true, for the 4th time I DO!

The problem with being a mom

2008-09-16T13:24:00.000-07:00

is that now I see everything through the eyes of my daughter. Like this essay by Eve Ensler. By the time I got to the end of it, I had a lump in my throat as I thought about what Norrie would say if she knew what Sarah Palin wants to do to this earth. If she knew what we are doing to the polar bears. What we are doing to ourselves. She would be stunned, shocked, horrified. She would wonder what kind of species we are.

White privilege in all its glory

2008-09-16T00:18:00.000-07:00

Thought provoking (and ultimately sad) essay here.

Our Big Adventure

2008-09-01T21:30:00.001-07:00

The Start of Our Big Adventure
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

See my Flickr photos for an account of my Big Adventure with Norrie last Wednesday. She is the perfect age to start doing this stuff, and I'm glad we did.

Sarah Palin

2008-08-31T22:51:00.000-07:00

One of my loyal readers said she's eagerly awaiting comment on Sarah Palin. My first thought upon hearing the news was "oh, no." What a smart move, I thought, choosing a woman. But the more I've learned about her, I, and one hopes most of America, realize what an incredible lightweight she is. I had to check myself a few times to see if I was being unduly critical of her lack of experience because she's a woman -- after all, Barack isn't exactly the most experienced legislator himself. But no, I think if anything I'm unduly critical of her because she's a hyper-conservative Republican.

Some friends and I tonight came up with what would have been a much more formidable choice for McCain -- Condoleezza Rice. Now that would have thrown in some interesting twists.

A choice like Palin makes me feel so out of step with mainstream America that I am hard-pressed to guess if it was a good move on his part or not. I'm just hoping that because she wasn't on the short list, she wasn't properly vetted. I hear talk of an ethics investigation in Alaska -- let's hear more, more!

The new kitchen!

2008-08-31T21:48:00.001-07:00

DSC_0090
Originally uploaded by Baba Dawn.

Newly painted, that is. For those who haven't seen it, a before photo would help, but since I don't have one handy -- here's a visual. 1970s tuxedo blue walls mixed with 40 year old wood cabinets. Wood that was probably a fine color at one point but that had yellowed, chipped, peeled, etc. We really don't have the cash to gut the whole kitchen, so we installed marmoleum floors and Angela re-tiled the counters herself back in 2004. She left a strip and various slices in the tile for her to do a beautiful mosaic. We also re-did the floors. Then we had the kid. Need I say more?

Finally we were planning a long enough trip that we figured the whole thing could be done while we were gone. Not quite -- we came back to a kitchen in chaos -- but now we love it! Seriously, this is the 1st time Angela has said that about our kitchen in 8 years.

Glowing kitchen

2008-08-31T21:41:00.003-07:00

DSC_0107
Originally uploaded by Baba Dawn.

Tile n paint match!

2008-08-31T21:41:00.001-07:00

DSC_0106
Originally uploaded by Baba Dawn.

"I love our kitchen"

2008-08-12T22:31:00.000-07:00

Quote from Angela. First time she's ever said that. We just got it painted. I will post a photo I take during the day (too late at night to photograph).

I'm gonna do something

2008-08-01T00:14:00.001-07:00

something, about this still-brewing ire when it comes to how the police handled that meeting and more importantly, when it comes to the radical drop in my feeling of safety in my own neighborhood. I've never left my doors unlocked for long (I leave that to my Minnesota friends) but I have never been worried about leaving my front door unlocked and open when I walk down the front stairs to retrieve my bike from the garage. Now I am. Because the attack that occurred about a week ago was in a woman's home 3 blocks from my house, at 4am. It's unclear if the attacker was in the house beforehand but he may have been -- which means he could have slipped in when she went down the front stairs to retrieve her bike.

So I'm gonna do something. I have been talking to friends about a Take Back the Night march. Or a community meeting with a self-defense demonstration. Or both.

We're heading to family camp on Sunday so all of this is moot until I get back. But with these blog readers as my witness, I'm gonna do it.

So not 1989

2008-07-29T21:13:00.000-07:00

Just got back from a meeting sponsored by our local councilmember and the BPD, about the rapes. Somehow I was hoping for something different. I was hoping for small group break-out sessions. For collective discussion of how we can make our community safer. For excitement, inspiration, anything that would show that we're not just passive victims. Instead what I got was "lock your doors and windows, report anything suspicious to the police, leave the rest to us."

So I listened. And I thought about locking my windows and other smart steps I can take, like not leaving a 12 foot ladder open and visible in my backyard. But somewhere deep inside I felt all those feminist check-ins and speakouts from 20 years ago coming back to me....saying "this is disempowering! This isn't giving us the tools to do anything!"

Two women asked very valid questions that were both answered with pretty pat, ultimately unhelpful responses. One said she often comes home late at night and can't find parking on her street. So she ends up parking far away, or else she parks in a red zone right in front of her apartment. She asked if any kind of accommodation could be made. The answer from the cops? "Well, we can't start talking about individual police escorts or parking situations"...But what about asking the 100 assembled community members for ideas? What about finding out who lives near her and could help out? What about a neighborhood escort set-up? What about a neighbor offering the use of their driveway, or finding someone else who comes home late at night and joining forces? Back at Brown, people even put up special green porch lights to indicate "this is a safe place to come if you're in trouble." (Of course, I always wondered what would happen if a rapist figured out the code and put up their own light....)

Another woman asked about renters' rights with regard to creating a safe living environment (because most of the advice had been geared towards homeowners). Instead of telling the renter what rights she has -- instead of educating her-- the cop just said "you call me and if your situation is unsafe, I'll talk to the landlord." Talk about holding on to all the power and authority.

Don't get me wrong -- the cops mean well. I definitely heard that they are seriously concerned about this rash of assaults and are doing all they can to stop them. But nonetheless it is really striking how UNcollective the meeting was, how NONparticipatory. No one collected email addresses. No one announced next steps. No one had us break into small groups by neighborhood. No one offered anything to do besides locking ourselves in our individual silos.

I walked out with Laura, my good buddy from back in the day at Brown. She had the same complaints I had. As we rode our bikes home together, we talked about what Josh Kornbluth would do. He's a monologist who just concluded a hilarious and moving one-person show on his search for democracy; he also happens to be our neighbor. In fact, much of his show focuses on neighborhood activism.

Laura and I agreed that we would at least look up Take Back the Night on the web. See what resources they offer.

As I write this, I feel a little sheepish -- I think I'm coming up against some of my own limitations when it comes to taking on a leadership role. I want someone else to plan a march and then I'll help publicize it. I'll talk about it and network about it. But stand up and take it on myself?

I'll think about it.

Fear, 20 years on

2008-07-24T22:59:00.000-07:00

So there's a rapist stalking our neighborhood. There have been 3 attacks in the past couple weeks. I heard about the 1st one from our nanny, but it was a few blocks away and seemed random...it wasn't until she told us yesterday about an attack that had occurred in a woman's house 3 blocks away that I got scared.

Today all my female neighbors were out on the sidewalk talking about it as they got ready to drive their kids to school or camp. Everyone mentioned how they leave their back doors open when they're home, and how they're often home alone or with kids. I myself am home alone all day working and often leave the back door open; hell, just yesterday I by mistake left the garage door open for an hour after a bike ride. I even went in and showered. I was quite chagrined when I walked out the door and saw the garage door still open (important note: one can get from the garage to the rest of the house). I checked around the basement, as I always do when I've left the door open, all the while thinking "what the hell would I do if I did catch someone?" Sometimes I hold the phone and dial 9-1 so that all I'd have to do is dial another 1.

I realized today that the last time I was actively scared about a rapist loose in the neighborhood was a full 20 years ago, in college. It was a huge deal to my household of 4 women. A huge deal. It was our 1st year living off-campus; we lived in a kind of sketchy neighborhood (where we each paid $150 in rent).

We were all die-hard feminists, volunteering at the women's center on campus, at the rape crisis center, the battered women's shelter. Somehow as I write this, it all seems so dated, so '80s. And that in itself is a strange feeling. It's not like these issues have gone away, but battered women's shelters are closing their doors due to lack of funding and I don't even know if the Take Back the Night march still exists. At least Katha Pollitt is still writing about feminism, bless her.

Back in '88 when the rapist was stalking our neighborhood, one of my housemates was actually the rape crisis center volunteer on call when one of the rapes occurred. So she accompanied this woman to the hospital and later, when they caught a suspect, to court. I don't remember if the guy was convicted or not, but I do remember how around the same time, we housemates all marched together through the streets of Providence in the Take Back the Night March. Strong, fiery, in solidarity. Pissed off and proud to be taking the streets. I still remember how great it felt. At one point we even ended up at the front of the march. Amazing, and a feeling I haven't had enough since.

What's the equivalent today? Talking with the neighbors before we drive the kids to school. Not a bad difference, necessarily, but a big difference.

Back in '88 I was a columnist for the Brown Daily Herald. I wrote a column about the rapes and the Take Back the Night march, and I cited the stat that 1 in 3 women is a sexual assault survivor. The column caused a stir with the lone conservative columnist on campus. I don't remember what his argument was except that he doubted my (reliable, at least at the time) 1 in 3 figure. Just now, I googled him and immediately found his blog and have no doubt it's him in all his smarminess, but I'm hesitant about linking to it because I'm not sure I want to start a blog convo with him....or at least I gotta think about it for a day or 2. I also just now went to the Brown Daily Herald's website to see if maybe, just maybe, some soul had uploaded old articles to the archives and I could find my column online. Bwa ha ha. Want to know how far back the online archives go? 2005.

The Next Big Thing?

2008-07-23T10:37:00.000-07:00

As many of the readers of this blog know, I’m a consultant in business with one other woman. There are times when we motivate each other and there are times when we have big complex projects with exciting clients. But right now, a few big projects ended recently and nothing very substantial has emerged. And my business partner is going through some health issues right now that mean, at the very least, that she’s not super focused on our work. So that leaves me.

On the one hand, time without a big project should theoretically offer me time to think. Time to ponder what I’d like my next contribution to be. Time to suss out my passion. Time to write.

But on the other hand, time without a big project is kind of driving me crazy. And it’s not just because we’re short on money, which is one very real issue. It’s also because I’ve realized, not for the 1st time but with a vengeance this time, that I am largely driven by external motivators. I’m loyal; get me working on a project and I will work it to death. I’m a social being who gets motivated in the company of others. I’m also realizing that some of the most creative times in my life have been when I’m busy and humming and really engaged. For instance, just a couple months ago when I was in the midst of 2 big projects, I churned out a Perspectives piece in one hour. I sent it in and got it on the air. It all happened in less than a week.

And I think back to my time working for Justice for Janitors in the early ‘00s. It was a big exciting campaign, all-consuming. I worked endless hours – not something I want to do with a kid. But I don’t remember the hours as much as I remember the power of working together and winning.

I’ve had some thoughts about the next big thing, thoughts I’ll write more about in the coming days. For now, I’ll just lay out the categories: global warming. Same-sex marriage. Obama.

Lucy?

2008-07-10T16:30:00.001-07:00

Talking with lesbiandad about our respective lack of total euphoria regarding the whole we-can-get-married-now deal. It came up because she and her sweetie are indeed tying the knot tomorrow after having gotten a license last month; I had been feeling a bit like we weren't keeping up with the Joneses until I realized that they, too, are having mixed feelings.

To wit: Angela and I haven't yet gotten our license or even found out how to go about doing so. We have chosen a date for our wedding, at least: September 28. It'll be the 6th anniversary of the day we got married in what we consider our real wedding. The wedding where we wouda become legal if we coulda.

But we've made no move to find out more about the process or to do any planning. Why? I think the reasons are multifaceted. One reason can be found here in my Perspectives piece on KQED from mid-May -- when the ruling came down, we were in the midst of coping with the news that Angela's pregnancy wasn't viable.

Another reason -- and I have to tread carefully here -- is that last month Angela was dealing with the fallout from a homophobic coworker. I have to choose my words because you never know who might read this, but suffice it to say that a) I am tremendously proud of Angela for how she dealt with the situation and b) it threw us for a big loop right when the marriages were starting in June. Right when the 1st couples were getting married, Angela was at work dealing with homophobia.

Her situation with the coworker highlights an essential truth, a truth that ultimately may be the real reason for our hesitation: it's not like they all love us now. On the contrary, "they" are fighting tooth and nail to pass the initiative that would ban our union. Meaning we'd be going through it all for naught. Again.

I don't know exactly how the initiative is polling right now, but I do know that a few months ago, for the 1st time EVER, a majority of Californians said they support same-sex marriage. Just 51% -- a very slim majority. A majority that needs to VOTE.

So right now, I'm feeling a little bit like Charlie Brown. We were already married in 2004 and they took it away; will they grab the ball out from under us again? And this time, will our daughter feel the impact? That would make it all the harder to bear.

My dad says that similar shenanigans were attempted in Massachusetts but that ultimately, it seems as if the state realizes same-sex marriage is here to stay. So if the marriage ban goes down to defeat, perhaps we will finally feel more of a sense of peace and solidity and acceptance. At least until we try to win marriage rights at the federal level.

Out of the mouths of...

2008-06-24T21:50:00.000-07:00

Angela, at video store with Norrie, noticing the new season of the L Word is available on DVD, talking mainly to herself: "oh, maybe we should get this..."

Norrie: "No, Baba, that show is only for women with long hair."

For the 4th Time, Yes!

2008-06-24T21:47:00.001-07:00

In honor of this month's events in California, photos of two of our weddings, below. We became domestic partners in 2001. And later this year, we will get married a 4th time.

The 4th time's the charm?

2004 Wedding

2008-06-24T21:46:00.003-07:00

2004 Wedding
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

2002 Wedding

2008-06-24T21:46:00.001-07:00

2002 Wedding
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Joan

2008-03-20T21:27:00.000-07:00

I found out from my mom earlier today that her oldest and dearest friend Joan has died. They met in NYC when they were around 18 and 20 years old, both working as models. One of my main memories of Joan is sitting at her house, probably around age 5, listening to her stereo playing "you are the apple of my eye...."

Over the years they were in and out of touch, but I gather that in recent weeks my mom had been talking with her almost every day, reminiscing and trying to give her some comfort. Most of the readers of this blog know that I have a difficult relationship with my mother, one I don't write about much. It was really hard to talk with her today but I knew it would be important for her to get some support from me.

Hearing the news certainly does make me think about how many years my own mom has left on this earth. The reasons for our difficulties could fill much more than one blog, and aren't easily solvable, but I did think today -- if she has 5 or 10 years left, and that's all, how much of that do I want to spend trying to avoid her?

Claiming my authority

2008-03-15T21:44:00.000-07:00

When I was 13, I wanted to write the book that would change the world. Over the years I have done a lot of communicating around social change, some of it very successfully, but often giving voice to someone else's hopes and dreams for change instead of my own. Today I took a class that brought back a taste of that 13-year-old desire.

The class was an all-day seminar on opinion writing for women. It was really fantastic! The class aims to increase contributions by women to the op-ed page (3/4 of NYT submissions and 4/5 of Washington Post submissions are by men, a fact that came to light a few years back after Larry Summers, then president of Harvard, said some boorish things about why more women aren't scientists which led to discussion about why more women aren't on the op-ed pages).

Taught by Catherine Orenstein, who herself has published op-eds in both of the outlets listed above, the class was also about claiming our authority in public debate more broadly -- be it on blogs, in books or in interviews. Orenstein has found, over and over, that when asked what they're an expert in, men will jump right in but women will hem and haw and say "well, I'm not really an expert, but I know about...." And she aims to change that.

As for why write an op-ed -- it's definitely about writing to influence public debate and create positive social change, but it's also about publishing op-eds as a way to advance professionally, by making ourselves known to agents, bookers, producers, editors, everyone out there who is trolling for smart and relevant opinions.

At the end of the class, she gave us all a big kick in the butt to go out and write. And submit.

So I'm off to make a list of all the issues I now consider myself an expert in.

The class reminded me of this poem by Marianne Williamson, originally attributed to Nelson Mandela:

Our Greatest Fear —Marianne Williamson

it is our light not our darkness that most frightens us

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,
talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.

There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other

people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of
God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

The Choice is Clear

2008-03-02T21:40:00.000-08:00

Our family walking by a house with an Obama sign:

Isobel: Look, Norrie, there's a picture of Barack Obama. Those people want him to be president.

Angela: Mama and Baba voted for him too.

Norrie: I'm hoping for Hillary Clinton.

Portland

2008-02-23T23:16:00.001-08:00

I knew I've been busy with work, but didn't realize I hadn't posted since mid-January! Most recent family adventure: a jaunt to Portland to see Bev and Ruth in their brand-new, pristine, untouched by muddy-kid-feet home. (They were remarkably mellow about the 4 days of kid energy. And then I'm sure the slept for an equivalent number of days after we left).

While we were there, they showered us with books and toys for Norrie, including this great video aimed at kids of same-sex parents (and allies). Norrie loves it! My favorite part of the video is the black male construction worker who cries because he misses his boyfriend, who's gone on a trip. Now that's not typical children's TV.

I've noticed a few impacts of the show, only one of which is slightly irritating:
- she imitates the characters nonstop and wants us to do the same (that's the irritating impact)
- she's been playing with calling Angela "mom" or "mother." Up until now she had been convinced that she has a mama and a baba and that's it. NOT two mothers. In fact she told us once that she was said she didn't have two moms like some of her friends! But now she seems to understand that this is the category, for lack of a better word, that she fits into. I think it's a sign of developmental growth.
- she's referring to two of the characters on the show as "partners." I've never heard her use that word before! Even though that's how Angela and I refer to each other, we're so much in the parenting mode with her that sometimes I think we forget we're anything but parents.

Below, some photos of Norrie while we waited for Angela to pull the car around at the parking lot. It was "Baba's light," which means the perfect light for photos, and Norrie was in the mood. Probably helped that she was busy "washing the windows" of the little waiting area in the parking lot. Some parents would think that was gross...I thought using water from her sippy was at least marginally better than her 1st idea, which was to lick her finger and then smear it on the glass, over and over.

After the plane flight

2008-02-23T23:10:00.005-08:00

After the plane flight
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Pretty in purple

2008-02-23T23:10:00.003-08:00

Pretty in purple
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Washing the window

2008-02-23T23:10:00.001-08:00

Washing the window
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Washing the window 2

2008-02-23T23:09:00.001-08:00

Washing the window 2
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Crazy Hair!

2008-01-18T21:48:00.001-08:00

Crazy Hair!
Originally uploaded by Baba Dawn.

A fave Baba Dawn photo from back at Thanksgiving -- the weather was so dry that every time Norrie went down the slide, her hair had this effect.

Like Taking Candy from a Baby

2008-01-03T22:18:00.000-08:00

Or is it stealing? Anyway, that phrase went through my head just now as I popped another piece of candy that Norrie had found lying around after the holidays and brought to me, asking "Mama, can I eat this?" "No, not right now, honey, candy is just for special occasions like Christmas," I said. Then left it out of reach on the counter. And then ate some (most) of it when she wasn't around. It's not that I was actively trying to be devious, actively trying to prey on her naivete, but...there you have it. Writing this is making me feel kinda guilty, actually. I better giver her that last piece tomorrow. And then feel guilty about rotting her teeth.

Other examples of her profound innocence and attempts to assert herself in the world:

- we've been having a struggle recently with the phrase "I'm still hungry." As in, "I'm trying to delay doing something I don't want to do" or "I didn't eat enough of my dinner," so now it's bedtime and I'm still hungry. As a result, we've been trying to be strict about reminding her that dinner is her last chance to eat for the night. Last night I was putting her to bed on my own and she pulled it on me again. I told her no, dinner was her last chance, repeat, repeat. She got really upset and tried all sorts of tactics, including telling me that if I wouldn't give her food, then she wouldn't talk to me, then asking for just a few pieces of cheese, and then finally telling me, tears streaming down her face, that she would tiptoe into the kitchen when I was in the living room and take a banana and I wouldn't see her do it. Is that the epitome of age 3, or what? Perhaps needless to say, I did finally allow her to have some plain yogurt, which she wolfed down. But then just in case I thought it was a one-time thing, tonight, after she's ensconced in bed and WAY past any chance to eat, she half-grins at me, "I'm still hungry. Can I have some yogurt?"

- recently I was sad about something personal (honestly I can't remember what) and she saw me crying. For some reason I thought it would be easier to globalize my feelings as opposed to talking about the specifics of the situation. So I said something to the effect of "Mama's sad because of sad things in the world." She looked at me, very concerned, and said, "you mean because of Bush/Edwards?" Well, not exactly, kid, but close.

- in that vein, we've been explaining the elections to her -- it started when we got this issue of The Nation in the mail. She was fascinated by all the cartoons and has really taken to some of the names. At random, she will tell me she wants me to vote for Mike Gravel, or Hillary Clinton, or Dennis Kucinich. But she also thinks it's funny to tell us to vote for "cup," or "tree," or another word that pops into her head. Yesterday she told me she would vote for Edwards, I would vote for tree, and Baba would vote for car. I had to heavily resist the temptation to launch into "well, in fact a vote for the Democrats is like a vote for tree and a vote for the Republicans is like a vote for car...." But I did ask if she likes cars or trees better. Trees, she said.

- which reminds me. Driving home from Old Navy tonight - yes, Old Navy, bright and cheery and sweatshoppy and in a big mall that is SO not sustainable in ANY way -- she saw a parking lot with a good bit of water in it. "Mama, look! It's a big pond! Where a great blue heron could live!" Sigh. Yes, 100 or so years ago, you woulda been right, kid.

Princess Daisy

2007-12-07T21:58:00.001-08:00

Princess Daisy
Originally uploaded by jccwhite.

You gotta check out this photo from my dad. Yes, this is our very own kitty and our completely useless attempt to keep her off the pee-sullied couch.

The cardboard sheets filled with "donuts" of packing tape, however, has worked. Of course, it also keeps *US* off the couch, but at least no more peeing. We're afraid to see what happens once we remove the tape...

Parenting judged

2007-12-07T20:31:00.000-08:00

Well, I think I made it 3 years without having visible, unavoidable signs that my parenting was being judged. Today I was out in the evening with Norrie, by stroller, Angela on a business trip so no opportunity to get a ride home, Norrie was refusing to put on her coat, it was dark, it was cold (at least by Berkeley standards, I must note to my midwest and east coast readers). We had about 8 blocks to go, which, as you know, can mean anywhere from 20 minutes to 2 hours with a 3 year old.

The trouble started with negotiation involving the necessity of saving her stroller seat for a chopstick and a glass jar filled with colored noodles. Then argument about whether I had bought enough almonds and whether they were properly lined up in the plastic bag. After a bunch of conversations along these lines, I decided it really was too cold to have a kid outside without a coat, so she would have to either a) put on her jacket or b) get in the stroller so we could go home quickly. Both were unacceptable. Her jacket would lead to a "puppet show problem," which is when the shirt underneath gets bunched up by a jacket. Her stroller would lead to her glass jar being displaced.

So finally I had to take action, and I chose to put her in the seat. She screamed bloody murder. For a long block. Loud enough that two young women -- two women who didn't have kids with them, mind you -- turned around and gave me really dirty looks. One turned around twice. It was all I could do to keep from shouting after her in her pristine clothes, lovely bouquet of flowers under her arm, "do you have kids? Do you? Huh?" But I didn't. I avoided looking at her completely.

I have to admit that I found myself talking extra sweet to Norrie the rest of the way home. But you know the strange part? The screaming just wasn't that unusual. It's pretty much a daily occurrence when I pick her up from school. It's what she does when she's overtired and doesn't want to be constrained. I can understand her feelings but sometimes it's necessary. So it hardly phased me. Not that I could tell any of that to those women.

Is there something evil about this?

2007-11-09T16:35:00.000-08:00

Just discovered, by accident, that the Berkeley Public Library's wireless signal is strong enough to reach to Peet's across the street. How much nicer to sit in the artificially cheery java-scented capitalistic environment of Peet's, sipping and trying not to spill my decaf with a shot of eggnog, than to sit in the quiet-as-a-library library. Sick, huh?

I guess as long as I pay my property taxes, and don't spill coffee on library books, no one's gonna really care if I'm bogarting the library's wireless.

"I wish I had two moms"

2007-11-08T22:43:00.000-08:00

With Angela in L.A. for work, Norrie and I spent yesterday evening at a gathering of about 40 other lesbian and gay families (in reality, it was 95% moms, and those that were dads were all transgendered, I think). It was co-sponsored by our favorite tot play space and our favorite queer family nonprofit, Our Family Coalition. It was a kick-off to what they hope will be a monthly opportunity for parents to connect while kids play in another area entirely. Seems like a heavenly idea.

I had prepped Norrie earlier in the day that it was a special event for kids who have "two moms, or two dads, or a mama and a baba, or [thinking quickly - what about kids with stepparents or multiple parents] three dads, or..." Norrie finished, "or five moms, or ten dads," in the exact same sing-song voice I was using. I realized later that this was really the 1st time I had talked about a group gathering specifically for kids like her - when we see folks from our lesbian moms group, we just refer to them by name and haven't really talked about what we all have in common. But she's definitely starting to notice; she met a new kid at the event tonight and asked her, "is that one of your two moms?"

Then, on the way home, it became clear just how much she was noticing. Norrie: "I wish I had two moms like Jasper." "You do have two moms, they're just called mama and baba." "But I wish I called them mom. I don't call them both mom." More explanation of Baba being a mother but just not being called mom. Persisting: "I wish I had two moms." "You know, if you wanted to call Baba 'mom' some time you could talk to her about it. We like calling her Baba but ultimately you can choose what you want to call her." Back and forth in this vein for a while: "I wish I had two moms, like [names of a bunch of kids, some of whom have 2 moms and some of whom actually have a mom and a dad]." No grand conclusion: eventually I felt like I was talking too much and just said "I hear you, Norrie."

Later, talking to Angela in L.A., she pointed out that we should also focus on how great it is that Norrie has a mama and a baba. Because while right now she might want two moms, any day now she may utter the phrase "I wish I had a mom and a dad," and we won't be able to argue that all she needs is a reality check.

Norrie Turns 3 Today

2007-10-24T21:59:00.000-07:00

Starting last night, I’ve thought a few times about where I was exactly 3 years ago today. To Angela at 11:30 before we went to bed: “three hours from now I woke up with contractions. I tried to let you sleep. That lasted about 10 minutes.” Then at 9:45 a.m. as we drove away from her school after a little celebration (no cupcakes, just a play-dough birthday cake with candles): “About now, I was pissed off at that doctor who came in talking on his cell phone.” Then just now, at 3:30 p.m., I thought to myself “I was really pushing hard by now. I thought I was almost done. Little did I know it would be another 2 hours!”

This morning when Norrie came to bed for her usual snuggle (which is getting briefer and briefer), I listed a few details from the 1st year of her life: “you were soooo little. All you did was cry and nurse and poop. Then you started reaching for things and smiling….then you rolled over and got really interested in the world….then you started to crawl…” Angela stopped me there. I think she probably felt like I was moving into the maudlin stereotype of the mom recounting on every single birthday, “I was in labor for 48 hours, blah blah.” Also, she wanted to show Norrie her new dollhouse!

Now that I’m a mom, I finally understand the roots of that stereotype, and how compelling it is to think of her birthday through my own lens. After all, it was pretty much the biggest day of my entire life, besides the day I was born! And I think it’s right and appropriate for me to mark what it meant to me, which is what I’m doing with this blog entry. But I also try to be attuned to letting Norrie have her own experiences, her own emotions, her own birthdays! I’m really working on meeting her where she’s at, even if (right now) that means forcing myself to play her frankly quite tedious make-believe games. I’m sure I’ll be practicing this ‘til the day I die.

*Meantime, we have started trying to create our own 2nd human being. Will let my faithful readers in on any news….

San Diego Mayor's Change of Heart on Same-Sex Marriage

2007-09-24T15:25:00.000-07:00

Very moving. I just wanted his wife to reach over and give him a big hug.

One week into preschool

2007-09-13T23:28:00.000-07:00

One week in, here's how Norrie has changed already:

- "I'm a nice girl," she said to me, looking in the mirror, after I put a ponytail in her hair. She has also started pointing out girls in books, telling us she likes them. And yes, she is officially obsessed with pink.

- "I don't want to wear diapers at CCC. Only at home." (Although actually today she reverted).

- "My toys are all fucked up." Yup. Said in reference to her toy box being disorganized. Honestly I think she has no idea of the weight of that word, and she probably heard it from us in a fit of anger (not at school), so I just employed my poker face.

- This afternoon, we were outside and she decided she wanted to change her shirt. I couldn't go in with her because I was also watching some neighborhood kids. So I sent her in to the house on her own. I figured she'd find some shirt that was already lying around and bring it out. Instead, she came back outside having opened her drawer, chosen a shirt, and put it on, all by herself.

What were they thinking?

2007-09-13T23:20:00.000-07:00

Front page of Tuesday's Chron was a massive rendition of the proposed tallest building in SF. Er. Hmm. Did anyone notice that Tuesday was Sept. 11? Did anyone think that a full-page spread of a gigantic building on that day might arouse painful memories, might appear insensitive, might look like .... a target?

I was really surprised not to see any other LTEs about this, so I decided to write one. Here's what I wrote: "Six years after the September 11 attacks, maybe we don't need a full-page spread on the anniversary -- but in its place, are we ready for a full-page spread about the proposal to build SF's tallest tower? Any other day, fine. But on September 11, that gigantic rendition of the proposed building looked too darn much like a target."

Let's see if it gets in...

Snippets

2007-09-08T00:03:00.000-07:00

- Norrie recently discovered her old mobile and asked us to put it back up in her crib (yes, she's still in her crib, we have to address it but since she hasn't tried to climb out we haven't been rushed...). So it's back up there and she calls us into her room to wind it up at night, repeatedly. The other night I had wound it a couple of times and told her that's all, no more winding, goodnight. Then I got in the shower. I later found out she had called Angela in wanting water, wanting a different pacy, wanting any of the myriad things she wants at night. Then she asked Angela to wind the mobile. Angela agreed, not realizing I had laid down the law. With a grin on her face, Norrie stood up and said "I have two of you!"

- Multi-culti kid: At a Mexican restaurant the other night, I told Norrie I was going to get utensils. "What kind of utensils?" she asked, in all seriousness. "I want chopsticks." Later that same night, we walked past a Chinese restaurant. She made sure to point out the gato in the window.

Little person

2007-08-28T20:39:00.000-07:00

Norrie is asleep. She went to bed early tonight because she had no nap. Angela isn't home. So I'm here alone eating leftover thai and thinking that for not having a nap, Norrie did okay this evening: on a scale of 1-10, she wasn't a totally beatch. She didn't scream too much when I had to bring her inside, and teeth-brushing went okay, and she didn't want me to come back into her bedroom a million times. And then for just an instant -- just an instant -- I realized how very bizarre it is that I have this little person in my life who I have to manage. Whose moods I weigh at the end of the day.

She is very little, yet she packs a powerful punch.

Winning Kitty Names

2007-08-14T21:49:00.000-07:00

And the winners are....Crown Kitty (the white one) and Princess Daisy (the brown one). Origins? From the books "King & King" and "King & King & Family," by Linda De Haan and Stern Nijland. Readers may recall that King & King was the book that stirred up all the controversy in my hometown. It's the story of two princes who fall in love. King & King & Family follows the pair on their honeymoon, where they end up adopting a young girl.*

Our Crown Kitty is a dead ringer for Crown Kitty in the book, and Princess Daisy... is the name of the little girl. If she were a cat, I believe she'd look like our Princess Daisy.

*Not so p.c. on the race front -- the little girl is a stowaway from their jungle adventure. Hmmm.

Aaagh!

2007-08-14T20:49:00.000-07:00

It's begun. Here we were this a.m. getting ready for the day, pleased that Norrie seemed occupied "reading" Wondertime* magazine (which we got suckered into subscribing to before we realized it was basically a Disney vehicle) when she piped up with: "I want this. I want this chair and this crib. I want this."

What was she referring to? None other than the Playskool Rose Petal Dream Town Cottage. Unfortunately I can't find the exact ad online, but trust me when I say that it features the most soft-focus, girly-girly, blond-pony-tailed, sweet-smiled image possible. Along with the cushy pink chair and delicate pink crib, it has a dishwasher, stove, everything a pretty little girl needs to prepare to be a pretty little housewife. As Hasbro says, it helps "little homemakers feel right at home."

Angela didn't freak out quite as much -- she reminded me that Norrie sees us doing lots of dishes and cooking lots of meals, so of course she would want to be able to emulate us.

Yes, yes, that's all well and good, but after we told Norrie she already had a play kitchen and a play crib, she said "I want to move it all into my bedroom." Just like the little girl in the picture.

Wondertime is going up on the high shelf.

*I'm not linking to it because the site itself is too annoying.

Sittin' sisters

2007-07-24T23:23:00.001-07:00

Sittin' sisters
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

This is one of the few photos we've gotten so far with the "black one," as Angela and Norrie call her, or the "brown one," as I call her.

Is it a play string or is it a belt?

2007-07-24T23:17:00.001-07:00

Is it a play string or is it a belt?
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

She has mixed feelings sometimes about letting the kitties play with her toys. "Hey," she says "that's MY string. I'm playing with it right now."

Thrill of kitty

2007-07-24T23:15:00.001-07:00

Thrill of kitty
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Kitties kitties kitties!

2007-07-24T22:39:00.001-07:00

As I write this, lounging next to me are two fast-asleep 15 week old kitty sisters. Yes, we are once again pet people. We had been talking for some time now about what kind of pet to get -- Norrie was clear that she wanted two cats, a dog and a cow, or was that two dogs, a cat, and a cow? Angela and I discussed the first two but instead of cow, we thought about rat. Seriously: they're friendly and clean and daytime animals.

But now that we have the two sweet kittens I wonder: how could I have wanted anything else?

Angela went on a walk Saturday afternoon with new kitties the last thing on her mind. But she found herself in front of a pet store that was hosting a nonprofit pet adoption agency....found these sisters...and was smitten. It didn't take me long to say yes. Carpe diem and all that.

Immediately when I brought them home, I felt like we were more of a family. Angela and I both started kicking into high gear with our own memories of childhood pets, including remembering how my family's oldest cat (of 4) was entranced by the crinkle of cigarette wrappers and how we found our youngest cat in a snowstorm. We're even going to take a page from my dad's home repair book and cut a small hole in the floor of some built-in shelves, then create a carpeted ramp leading down into the basement, where their food and water and litter box will eventually live.

And Norrie? She has been in heaven. She has been really great about following our lead in her 2.75 year old way. After first trying to pick up the white one by the neck (eek!), then trying to scoop them up by their bellies, she has mostly realized it's better just to kneel down next to them. They are amazingly tolerant of the blankets, stuffed animals, snugglies, and pillows she brings them.

They say a first pet can be a child's first love beyond her parents. When she wakes up in the morning now, she doesn't ask Angela "where's mama?" She asks "where are the kitties?" And the other night when I put her to bed, I said "I love you Norrie" as usual, only to hear her respond "I love my cats." I'm trying to take it in stride.

Names? Not chosen yet. We want some literary, film, political or TV reference that isn't immediately apparent but gives a little thrill to those in the know, something like my sister's kitties Willow and Xander. Thoughts?

"My earthquake"

2007-07-24T21:51:00.000-07:00

Writing about our 4.2er a little belatedly....but that's because the next day we got kitties! Kitties! As you know from the post I will be writing next.

The facts: we were awakened at 4:42 a.m. by the earthquake. Or more accurately, I might have slept through it but Angela woke me up. The shaking was brief but strong. Angela jumped out of bed, got Norrie, and then we proceeded to go a few rounds of trying to sleep all together in the bed, then back in her crib, then the couch...until we all gave up around 6am. The only physical damage we saw in the house was that our framed marriage vows tipped over on the mantle.

The interpretation: after we all got up, we talked about it with Norrie. At first we weren't sure she had felt it, but then it became clear that she had -- because she was the one who mentioned "shaking" first. Here's some of what else she said:

"If there's an earthquake it will go down the elevator and go away. Earthquakes don't have hands to say bye bye." And a lot of other statements to indicate she thought it was a big monster.

"When Ghaka (imaginary friend) was a baby I put him to sleep and gave him his pacy and snuggly and then there was an earthquake and I picked him up. I mean his mom did and she brought him to bed and then everything was okay!"

And upon seeing her 3.5 year old next door neighbor later that morning: "I had an earthquake today!" "I did too!" They then proceeded to recount for each other the most relevant details, which, for our neighbor, included the fact that his mommy had to go pee pee after they woke up.

The birds: The day got stranger and stranger. As Angela opened the door to leave for work, she spotted a fledgling bird that had fallen out of the nest on our front porch. Then a couple blocks from our house she spotted two baby hummingbirds. It felt really apocalyptic, like the animals were dying off first. And then I ran the washing machine and our nanny told me later that Norrie got really scared during the spin cycle -- just another sign that she had been aware of the earthquake itself. A strange day for all of us. In fact, I don't think we really got over it until the next day when we got the ...kitties!

We're all bunnies.

2007-07-05T22:06:00.000-07:00

Last week Norrie and I took one of our every-so-often trips to Children's Fairyland. It's a local amusement park geared (well, in some ways geared...see below) towards tots. Over 50 years old, it's a bit of a dump at this point, but it's got a good heart and kids love it. I remember it fondly from my own childhood -- though I didn't realize until I moved back to Berkeley in my early 20s that the magical key I had kept in a special box all through childhood, the key to a place my dad and I went where only children could unlock the doors, was in fact a key to Fairyland.

So we went there last week to take in some rides and a puppet show. The show, this time, was "The Rabbit Who Wanted Red Wings." Here's how the website describes it: "Our little rabbit friend Skippy wishes to be things that he is not. He wants flippers like Miss Puddle Duck, sharp quills like Mr. Porcupine and finally he settles for red wings like Mr. Bird. But what will everyone think of him when they don’t recognize him? The importance of being happy with who you are is the lesson of our story."

Hmmm. So that's what they say. But here's what I saw. At a wishing well, a little rabbit wishes to have red wings and he gets them. He's so excited to be flying! He races home to show his mother. But his mother doesn't recognize him and won't let him in. The next morning he goes back to the wishing well and wishes to have his wings removed. This time, his mother recognizes him. Moral of the story: don't try to change your life or you won't be loved.

And here's what Norrie saw, based on what she said as she burst into tears: his mama won't let him in! His mama won't let him in! This is upsetting me!

I knew what she meant. In fact, I have never liked comedies (or tragedies) based on miscommunication or mistaken identity. Doesn't matter if it's a Friends episode or The Importance of Being Earnest -- it's too damn frustrating. And what kind of mistaken identity could be worse than a mother who doesn't recognize her child when s/he tries to change? Ever hear of unconditional love? Huh? Huh? I'm not the only one who thinks these fairy tales are creepy.

So Norrie was crying but said she didn't want to leave the play. I certainly know that for an adult, that kind of tears can be cathartic, and I thought it might be helpful to see the ending. So I settled on holding her and repeating that it would work out okay, and also that I would never leave her and would always love her and recognize her no matter how she changed. She was still crying when the show ended, but after a few minutes I convinced her to head over to the trains.

We rode for a while and had a great time. Then we sat down at a picnic table with another family to have lunch. The mom mentioned the puppet show to her kids. "The puppet show was upsetting me," Norrie said to the mom, crystal clear. She didn't seem to feel the need to say more, but she definitely wanted her review noted.

At the end of the day, we went to the gift shop to buy a present for a friend's birthday. I had told Norrie she could have a small gift too. "Do they have any bunnies?" she asked immediately and repeatedly. The accommodating clerk found a few. Norrie wanted two -- because otherwise her bunny wouldn't have a mama. I convinced her that one of her bunnies at home could be the mama.

As we walked back to our car, Norrie gently cradled that bunny in an ersatz crib (aka sunhat). She told me solemnly that "I'm a little bunny. You're a bunny too, and Baba's a bunny." I could only agree.

Postscript: six days later, this bunny is still her favorite. Today she left it on the floor for a few hours. Upon finding it: "Oh, I remembered the bunny! Here it is. I'm so excited! I never forget her."

Proud Grandpa

2007-06-29T16:52:00.000-07:00

Video from the Pride Parade by my dad. As he marched down Market Street, he marveled that in his 71 years, it was never one of his life dreams to march in SF's Gay Pride Parade, but there he was, having a great time! More photos soon....

Angel from Montgomery

2007-06-18T20:35:00.000-07:00

I drove today to pick up my bike from my fellow tri-er. The sun was setting, rays dancing on trees in the fog. Just as Bonnie Raitt's acoustic version of "Angel from Montgomery" came on the radio, I realized with a start that I was passing the home of Sherry R., the amazing convener of probably twenty years' worth of Berkeley moms groups. The first day of my first group was 5 weeks after Norrie was born; Angela had just returned to work the day before.

Passing by Sherry's house, I had a body memory of hauling a sleeping/wailing/fussing baby in her car seat down the driveway to the back room where moms group was held. All 11 of us had snap 'n' go car seats that we would line up in front of us, in a circle like rays from the sun. One day I tried to eat a take-out salad with my left hand because Norrie had fallen asleep in my right arm. Another day, Sherry held on to Norrie, bouncing her and rocking her in the car seat, trying to get her to sleep while she wailed extra loud. Loud enough that I thought my baby was the most unhappy of them all. But then the next week, someone else's baby had that honor. Which was the whole point of moms group.

Sherry's gift was in helping us to coalesce as a group that would live on long after our 8-week session was over. It didn't work for everyone I know who was in one of her groups, but it sure worked for us. Over the 2 1/2 years since we met, we've written volumes of emails about sleep, eating, outings, sleep, more sleep, and as time has gone by, 2nd babies, tantrums, and preschools. We meet once a month for moms night out and we get together informally with our kids often. I have learned so much from these women and I can't imagine early motherhood without them. A certain other Baba calls them the "het moms group," but in true Berkeley fashion, 3 of the 11 of us are lesbian moms.

The thing is, Sherry is dying of cancer. She was actually quite close to Aurelia ever since she was in one of the groups; as a doctor, albeit a cardiologist, Aurelia helped Sherry make decisions about treatment and hospice before her own cancer returned.

Sherry had her 60th birthday shortly after our moms group concluded. I heard through the grapevine (remember, she has touched a lot of lives) that she had an all women's dance/meditation to celebrate her birthday. I've also heard that she is coming to grips, as best one can, with her own impending death. She's healing as she dies. She has told friends that she feels she is in a very different position than Aurelia was; her kids are grown, she is older...I like to think that she is finding some peace. And that she is deeply aware of all the lives she has touched.

Make me an angel
That flies from Montgomery
Make me a poster
Of an old rodeo
Just give me one thing
That I can hold on to
To believe in this livin
Is just a hard way to go

Moving in for the....

2007-06-18T13:21:00.001-07:00

Moving in for the....
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Baba's Day Kiss

2007-06-18T13:20:00.001-07:00

Baba's Day Kiss
Originally uploaded by Mama Isobel.

Jock Lion

2007-06-17T21:42:00.001-07:00

I did it!! I completed my first triathlon! What can I say - it was really, really great and I am proud of myself. Having the support of my family plus really great preparation plus the support of my training group was just what I needed. Here's the wonderful video Angela spent her Baba's Day putting together for me (thank you, thank you!).

I've learned a lot about myself during this whole training process:
- I have a tendency to hold myself back, but if I'm conscious about it (or swept up in euphoria) I can overcome this tendency. I noticed it when we did our first "brick" in early May. After our bike ride, the coaches told us to run for 3 miles if we could, or at least 10 minutes. So I ran for 10 minutes. Afterwards, some of the other participants talked about how beat they were, and I realized - I'm not really tired. I could have run further. From then on, I made a conscious effort to push myself. That's when I started running 3 miles on the treadmill, trying to increase my speed each time, and that's when I decided to ride up Spruce for my birthday.
- I also noticed that I would slow down or stop *just short* of the goal when we did track practices. Like if we were doing 100 yard dashes, I would slow down like 5 feet from the orange cone. But yesterday, I ran hard at the end. This was hampered a bit by feeling really nauseous the minute I kicked into high gear during the last quarter mile, which made me realize:
- I'm a grownup. I know how to take care of myself. The only other time in my life I've entered a competitive race, I was 12 or 13. My friends and I decided on a whim to run the 10k on Patriot's Day. I had no idea how to train. I'm sure I didn't eat well that morning. So as I was approaching the finish line, I practically fainted. I was freaked out and didn't know what to do. This time, I ran right to the fruit table, downed two honeydew slices, and felt fine.
- Most importantly, I learned that I'm a Jock Lion. That's what Norrie called me a couple weeks ago. What could be better! I wrote it on my left leg under my tri-shorts yesterday. On my right leg, I wrote Aurelia. Her death came at the beginning of our training; often when I'm out at a beautiful place riding my bike, I think "Aurelia would do anything to be here." It helps ground me in the majesty and joy of what I'm able to do with my body.

So yesterday was for my daughter, for Aurelia's memory, and most of all, for myself!

The Three Bears

2007-05-28T15:41:00.000-07:00

I've been chugging along with my mini-tri workouts and this week I did perhaps the hardest thing yet -- the Three Bears! For those not in the know (tee hee, like I was in the know before a month ago!), it's a 25 mile ride up and down 3 big hills along Bear Valley Road in Contra Costa County. I am very proud of myself, even if I really do come in dead last among our tri-club. I can feel that my body is much stronger than it was, and that feels great.

Also wanted to write that I realized a couple weeks ago that the coach who rubbed me the wrong way on our 1st ride was actually not a coach. She's another tri-clubber who reminds me more and more of a sixth grader. At one of our meeting places along the most recent ride, she actually said to me and the main coach that she wasn't going to hang with me because she wanted to go faster. There really wasn't any reason to point it out -- I hadn't asked for her help and we had a very nice person being "sweep," i.e. my personal companion since I was dead last -- so all I can chalk it up to is plain jerkiness. Annoying, but other than that, all the actual coaches and participants have been great. Here's what our coach posted afterwards.

"Congrats to all the Tri-ers who made it out for our Three Bears ride and completed it successfully. That was ALL of you! For you new cyclists, let me tell you, that ride is not for beginners! You notonly finished it but you were smiling AND talking about the next time
you would ride! The ENTIRE Tri-For-Fun Triathlon is MUCH easier than that bike ride. So big KUDOS to all of you."

The mini-tri is on June 16 -- stay tuned!