Birthday Wishes

This isn't me, but it could be!

From as far back as I can remember, I have been drawn to big tractory type creatures.  They lumber around, scoop things up, tear things down, move big heavy stuff, and turn humans into SUPERhumans.  The way some little girls fantasize about their wedding gowns, I've played dress-up in my mind with carhartt coveralls, orange safety-vests and personalized hard hats and ear muff(in)s.

Several months back I mentioned to my boss that it was my 35th birthday wish that I drive a backhoe.  We laughed about it, and in my overly busy way, I promptly forgot.

But my boss and co-workers did not.

We do office celebrations for birthdays, and each year I duck out on my own and ask that we not do much, that I don't enjoy being the center of attention, etc.  And they, begrudgingly, agree.  And so yesterday, I got a very nice card with lots of sweet messages in it, and some happy birthdays and it was blissfully a non-event.

Today, when my boss lured me away for an office errand, they surprised me with Heavy Machinery.  (ok, really is was medium heavy machinery, but still!!!)

I learned how to drive one of these:

which they called 'the Ferrari'.  It goes back and forth, AND UP AND DOWN!!!

And one of these:

which I got to scoop and dump gravel with!  The dumping sounds a little like a rain stick, and was my favorite part.  Well, and the having to ram the tractor into the gravel pile before scooping.

And when we got back to the office, my co-worker had prepared pans of 'dirt' that had hidden treats in it, and there were little front loaders to drive through the delicious 'dirt'.

Best Office Birthday Party EVER!!!

On Being a Step-Parent

Ok, so I had NO IDEA.  None. How can one single thing be so so hard?

Let's get this out of the way right up front.  Their Mom?  She's great.  She's a wonderful mother, and she's been a step-mother, had a step-mother.  She's knows it. 

I liked her before I met her ex-husband, and still like her.  So, this really isn't about her.  I mean, it is, of course, but really it's not.  She doesn't make my life hell, she doesn't poison her kids against me, or any of the myriad other nasty ex-wife/real mother stories that are out there.  It's a complex relationship, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't bumpy, but we all have it pretty good.

And WondefulMan?  He's great too.  He backs me up, he works with me to parent collaboratively, he tries to walk that very difficult road between being her ex-husband and father of her kids, and my partner and co-parent.  He holds me when I cry and gets upset that he can't make it all better.  And he changes his processes to meet my needs, just like I change mine.  Wonderful.

Here's what is hard.  These aren't MY kids.  These are kids that I get to love, that I have to/get to help parent, that I share a home with, that I share a love with. But they aren't MY kids with WonderfulMan.  They are HER kids with WonderfulMan and I am, at best, SecondBest.

So, that's me.  SecondBest.

The kids like me.  Which is nice.  And they don't enact open warfare.  Which is also nice.

But I'm SecondBest and it is so so so hard.  I don't want to replace their mom.  She's a good mom, she loves them, takes good care of them, and she should always come first in their mind.  But you know what?  I don't love their kids second best.  That's not how I'm built.  I love them the same.  I worry about their health and safety like I worry about mine.  I lie in bed worrying about them, and they take up just as much time in my head as mine do.  So being SecondBest?  It's hard.  And it makes me cry.

And so I went looking for information, and research and stuff to help me figure out how to handle these emotions.  And most books tell me how to make it easier or better for the kids (which I'm pretty ok at doing), or tell me how to be a better communicator with their mother (which I'm also ok at), or how to put my marriage/love first (hard to do with kids everywhere, but we manage pretty ok at this too).  But they don't tell me about ME.  They don't tell me how to make myself feel better.  Or how to reframe things.  And so many delight in bashing the first mother, and I don't like/want/do that.

This is so very very hard.

(and wonderful.  because I love the dad that WonderfulMan is.  And I love sharing his joy over his kids, and I love seeing tons of shoes tumbled all about at the door, and I love that my kids wonder and ask when his kids will be back from their moms, and I love that sometimes I get a special moment with the kids where I can feel the love bond grow, and so much more...)

step-parent, blended family, ex-wife, step-mother, stepmother,

Update

It's been a over a year since my last blog, and a fairly momentous year too!

Tomorrow I turn 35, and I find each year is better than the last. No one tells you that growing oldER is a joy, but truly it is!

The man I fell in love with (to be known as WonderfulMan herein) is still an amazingly beautiful man, and I can say this past year has been one of the biggest for personal growth. We moved in together last May, and we have been together for a year as of December 8th. We have been working hard at loving one another, managing a large (!) blended family, and still holding on to our personal autonomy.

On Previous Topics (this is an update post, after all):

Queer Girl dates Man: I no longer feel conspicuous or out of place walking down the street holding hands with a man. However, my social community has definitely changed. My queer friends continue on with their lives, and we don't see eachother as often. While I understand that is part of what happens when you couple, it feels a profound loss to me and I often feel alone and a little lost. My partner is amazing, but he isn't, and has never been, queer. It's hard to share a world with him that he doesn't relate to and has little impact on his life.

Tango: I've reached new places this year, and I am so thankful. Tango isn't angsty anymore! What a relief. SERIOUSLY. I fall deeper in love with the music and find myself in deeper introspection. And it is lovely to share tango with my partner. I heard so many warnings about dating/loving in the tango scene, but it enriches my relationship with tango, and also with WonderfulMan.

Parenting: My role as a parent has expanded. WonderfulMan and I now parent 10 kids:

• My two biological boys (ages almost 15 and 10),

• my live-in foster son/adult (19),

• my former fosterson (22--and he'd probably bristle at the idea that I'm parenting him still, but I am even if he doesn't know it),

• and WonderfulMan's children: ages 5, 8, 9, 12(the only girl!!!), 13. WonderfulMan also has an 18 year old son that doesn't live with us that I get to love.

WonderfulMan's kids are with us almost half-time. It has been a lot of (rewarding) work on everyone's parts to learn to become a family, and we are still working on it. But, I think, overall, it's been a really lovely thing.

Surrogacy: The twins turned two right about the same time WonderfulMan and I, and our families, moved in together. They, and their brother, are amazingly beautiful, and the older I get the more warm glowy my heart gets. I continue to value the relationship with their parents in a way I can't really begin to explain, except to say that there are many things that I am proud of in my life and that bring me joy, and carrying those kids for that family is way up there at the top.

I am looking for a new family to carry for, and it's been interesting beginning this process again. I have been looking informally for about 6 months, and have talked with many people, but haven't found the right ones just yet.

I hope to keep up a bit more with the blog, but life is full. I also imagine it will take on more of the (dreaded) MommyBlog thing, as I work through parenting littles again. I appreciate you hanging out with me, and understand if you bail.

Where in the World is Fledgling Tanguera?

Hello Friends...

I know I have been remiss in blogging and I apologize.

Shortly after having the babies, I enjoyed a very short respite of normality, enjoying my children and life. And then disaster struck.

I am a board member on my children's school board. We are a very sweet 230ish kid K-8 public charter Montessori school. Well, our school burned down. Since then, we have been feverishly working to locate a new home, deal with insurance, order supplies, mobilize parent groups, etc.... the list is never ending. It has been a heartbreaking, and equally moving, time. I am touched by the commitment, dedication and love that the parents and staff express, and the kindness and support of our community as we attempt to pull ourselves up and rebuild.



So, no, I am not done blogging. I will return to sharing and purging when things slow down and our future is more secure.

In the meantime...I am doing some dancing. :)

Happy 1 Year Blog-a-Birthday!

I missed it because I was busy off having babies, but as of May 25th, I've been blogging for 1 year!

Those 6 weeks took a toll. I can't even begin to describe how frustrating it is to only be able to dance two or three tandas in a night. I just don't have the stamina for more. Where did it go?

And my balance! Ugh. I feel like a very beginner again, only this time I know enough to know how bad it feels. It's so discouraging. I haven't actually had to use my partner for balance since I started, and now... if the leader does anything that isn't perfectly centered it throws me off.

I had a lovely night on Friday where I had people signing my dance card before I could even get my shoes on but I just couldn't dance more than a few tandas and I was so disappointed. Last night was the same.

Those of you that have taken extended breaks, was it hard to come back? Did you notice a difference? I'm hoping my lack of stamina is just because I was so sick and it will return, but other pregnant people seem to think it's their job to burst that happy bubble.

Pregnancy Icks

I have been struck by the pregnancy icks. Food is gross. Driving in cars is gross. Even my beloved coffee has finally become gross. Saltines are good. And so is gatorade. Gatorade! Never in a million years did I think I would be drinking Gatorade. But it has a nice salinity that makes my throat feel nice.

I have never had morning sickness. I bow to all you women that had it for long stretches and then had more children. You are amazing and marvelous and I hold you in awe. Because this sucks.

And, interestingly enough, the only thing that keeps it all at bay, that makes me forget the whirlpool in my stomach: Tango. I feel not yuck when I'm immersed in the dance.

However, this feeling made Tangofest really hard for me. The traveling was hard, the being somewhere when I'm feeling icky was hard, and at about 2 am I was done for. Could Not Dance Another Step. Like Cinderella at midnight. I didn't have the most lovely of festivals. But my consolation is that Valentango will coincide with my second trimester, so I should be full of vibrant energy!

57%

Who would have thought that a lime green corset would be such a popular thing?

Fully 57% of my search engine hits in the last week and a half have had something to do with "lime green corset" in their search.

huh.

TangoClothes

BlogDay 2008

Tassili, over at La vie en rousse, a charming blog (in french) that I can only read with Babelfish, which makes for some interesting translations, included me in her list.

Thank You! I'm honored.
(not that you can see it on that screen shot, but if you really want to go over to her blog and check it out!)

That Lezzie Thing...

So, after my short-lived love affair, I've returned to the mental musings of a lezzie. I guess that just means my primary orientation is lezzie? I don't know, whatever...

So, on Saturday a couple of my very bestest (lezzie) friends came to the milonga. (Since all my Pre-Tango friends have dropped off my social spectrum, I've realized I have to import them!) Now, these are the friends from this post, the ones that I always feel comfortable with, the ones that I can cry or scream or laugh or just simply be with. But it was a bit weird for me.

Here's why.

When I tango, it's a different side of me. The me that is completely feminine. (I didn't realize I am so compartmentalized....think I need to work on integration?) And with these friends, well....we are part of a drag king troupe. We spend our free time as male impersonators. It was weird to have the two worlds come crashing together. I had a few moments of feeling very exposed when I was embraced by one of my tango crushes....because I love being in his arms so much. (For the record, this is totally my own insecurity--these friends would love me even if I grew 6 heads. In fact, they'd love me 6x as much.)

This is so weird to me, friends. I am so confused about where I am on the spectrum right now. Now that I'm settled with being attracted to men as well as women, I think it's time to sort out what to do with all these facets of masculine and feminine.

I like that I can work on my car and then dress in sexy clothes and dance. But maybe there's a way to integrate those sides without it being so drastic.

Less drama, more flow...

Naughty Misbehaving Toes

Thank you, AlyTheRed, friend, photographer and designer extraordinaire.

Beautiful Feet

Is it possible to be a dancer and still have beautiful feet?

I used to have beautiful feet. And now? They aren't so beautiful. Or maybe they are just beautiful in a different way.

Today, I have toenails that are a mess (How do I keep doing that to my toenails? Why don't I notice it when it's happening?), a blister peeling off, calluses that I don't seem to be able to rub off no matter how pumicey my pumice stone is, a giant bruise where some mislead young thing stuck her sharp sharp heel into the top of my foot, a nasty scratch across the top of the same foot from MY heel, a fading tan that doesn't match my heels...

Maybe I need to redefine beautiful feet.

C-R-A-P Week

It has been a crap week. Seriously. There were several times where I considered drowning myself in my toilet. Except, as my oh so charming (and very dry sense of humored) twelve-year-old let me know, my head is too big to expect to reasonably drown myself in the toilet. Perhaps I should try the bathtub.

I know a lot of people will assume it is because of the end of the my brief love affair, but I moved through that one quickly. Today, I'm at peace. It was bad timing for both, and oh but we made each other feel good for a short bit of time. How can I feel anything but joy over that? And, as I explained to a friend before, my life was so good before and he only added to it. Him being gone didn't ever take anything away, and ahhh, the reminder of the luscious juiciness I have (and had!) inside me.

But it wasn't C-R-A-P because of him, but for a whole bevy of communication issues with others. People I disappointed, made angry, misconstrued, didn't construe at all, whatever.

I went to the practica last night with the intention to listen. Just really listen. Not filter, not push my own, but to just listen because apparently this week I've dropped that ball on listening and/or interpreting in my other relationships. And what I got was a warm reminder that I am worthy, that people want my input, that misconstruing something can be turned into a different movement with equally pleasurable results, and that an off moment is just that--another moment.

I needed to dance last night. I needed it. Funny how it has become more than just music, more than just connection, more than an ever-pounding series of thoughts. It's become something my body craves, something that soothes my mind, something that allows me to reflect. It's become part of me and how I move through my day. How did I get by before tango?

Thursdays

I don't plan it this way, friends. But for some reason, on Thursdays, the words literally come flying out my fingertips. I have little else to say all week, but Thursdays....

So, I apologize for cluttering up your readers, for overwhelming you, or for just taking over your day (narcy of me to think that I would get that much attention from you, no?), but the blogGODS have apparently decreed that Thursday is Throw-Up day....

so there you are.

Enjoy!

Flat Out Fitness

Last week I rode my lovely cruiser bike to work. I wasn't able to ride all summer last year, and couldn't ride this school year because I was transporting children. So, finally, I pulled out my bike, loaded up and made my way to work.

It's not far, but oh it was sad. I was hot, I was exhausted, and I was mortified at my fitness level. How could it have gotten so bad? How could I not have known it had gotten so bad? My friends assured me I would regain my fitness level quickly, while looking at me pityingly. I told myself repeatedly...Each time it will be a little easier.

While my friend Tom was tuning my bike for me: "Hey, do you know your tires are flat?"


Who would have thought tire pressure would make such a difference? I'm feeling much better about my fitness level now.

Thanks, Tom.


Thanks, Robby Russell
Thanks, Phitar

Mushy Arms

I'm joining Johanna from Tangri-La (and several other tango bloggers) in building strength in my arms. And, I'm going to match each push-up with crunches.

Thanks for the cyber-inspiration.

One Hundred Push-ups

How to do a push-up

Mistressing the Push-Up