I need a Jeep

I've always wanted a Jeep. Hugely unreliable and largely not practical. It would, however, help get Benji to daycare in the morning.

We have one of those ordinary regular minivan/wagon crossover vehicles with no all-wheel drive. I know.. how strange for two lesbians. Turns out that we were broke when we traded in my old truck for the family mobile and opted for the Mazda instead of the fully loaded Subaru. Go figure.

Ok.. this is hard to explain without a picture, but I'll try. Our daycare is located at the top of Mount Everest. On an unpaved street. Off a cul-da-sac. When we interviewed this particular daycare, my old pickup started to smoke and let out an odd groaning sound about halfway up the hill. If we hadn't gotten rid of the truck due to the fact that we needed a back seat for the baby and his gear, we would have burned it out within a week of driving up that hill.

It's winter.

It has snowed approximately 17 feet over the past month here in the Great Boston Area (ok.. so maybe that is a slight exaggeration.. but the stuff just isn't melting!). As a result.. driving up the dangerously steep hill to daycare has redefined itself once again for the winter months. To make it more interesting this year, it seems that the neighbor of our daycare has some parking challenges.. I have lost count of how many cars they are trying to smash into their lack of a driveway.

As a result, I have to gun it at the bottom of the hill.. try not to wipe out the school bus that picks up a child in a wheelchair that lives halfway up the hill (what were her parents thinking?) and make the corner without hitting any of the vehicles parking along either side of the street and then get up the 47 degree rake to the landing while dodging parked cars and the cars of other daycare parents who are trying to drive the other way down this narrow street (only wide enough for one car at a time). To top it off, while they managed to dig up the four rocks that were threatening to rip out my undercarriage over the summer, there is now a hole (pronounced "cre-vahhhhssss") that I imagine my entire vehicle will flounder in one morning.

Poor Snickollet is going to have to throw me a rope from HER Subaru to haul me out...
(btw.. snick.. maddie told me this morning that Ben's hat didn't match his boots..)

Virtually "pain free" hair removal...

Check out my first blog posting over at Skirt!

I thought I'd jump right in.. *laff* I'm determined to make waves over there! This is what they get for labeling ME a trendsetter!

Virtually "pain free" hair removal...

This definitely qualifies as TMI:

Let me set the stage.

I am Italian and Irish. All of my hair follicles are Italian and all of my skin cells are Irish. I also have PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome) which causes lots of fun hormonal crap like infertility, weight gain and.. yes.. male-pattern hair growth. As a result, I have spent all of my adult life struggling with the topic of hair removal and self-esteem.

When I was younger, I was very self-conscious about my image. How gross was it that I could grow more facial hair than most 18 year old boys. I would take hour-long showers which would include shaving just about every inch of my body.

To complicate matters further, I have just about THE MOST sensitive skin out there. If I walk down a perfume aisle, my skin will break out in a rash (and I’ll have an asthma attack). I can only use certain soaps and one wrong move in the shaving department would leave me with little cute patterns of razor burn all over my body.

Tack on the weight gain associated with PCOS and I had a rough time during my teenage years!

Fast-forward. I’m now 34 years old and happily married. I have a 2 year old beautiful son. I am completely content with my follicular status. The solution? The product that saved my self esteem?

Hate to burst your bubble, ladies, but for me.. it was just a matter of growing up and becoming comfortable with myself. No magical cream or little gadget that painlessly removed all of the hair forever.

Now.. that said, just because I’m comfortable with myself doesn’t mean I still don’t try every product and procedure under the sun. I’ve tried every chemical ever labeled for sensitive skin hair removal (translation: it removes the skin and leaves the hair) and have spent hundreds and hundreds of dollars on needles and lasers and weed-wackers, oh my!

So.. as the self-proclaimed expert on the subject.. do I still spend an hour a day in the shower? Heck no! I have a toddler.. I’m lucky if I snag 10 minutes to myself. I usually have the shower curtain thrown back about 7 minutes into it by a little red headed dude who hands me my glasses and says “mommy, all done”.

To be honest, I seem to have become a bit bi-polar when it comes to hair removal. It’s currently mid-winter and we’re broke. As a result, I haven’t shaved south of the equator for close to three months and I’m starting to resemble something off of the Discovery Channel. I really could care less, aside from the fact that my hair is so thick that it occasionally makes my skin hurt from rubbing against my pants. Also.. I don’t wear skirts.. that’s key.

Like I said though.. I tend to go through mood swings. When I’m not on shaving strike, I tend to go to extremes.

wax.jpg



I’ve become a huge fan of waxing. It feels strikingly like sticking your arm in a wood chipper, but the results are fantastic. It’s also great for releasing tension after a long week at work. I’m not sure what it says about your life when going in for a waxing session sounds relaxing. I’ll blog about that another time!

Now. Leg waxing isn’t a big deal. Ripping out hair in huge chunks is never pleasant, but after the first few strips, you start to lose consciousness and it doesn’t seem to hurt as badly. There are a few areas that really hurt. For me, it’s the front of my calves and the backs of my ankles and from the knee up.

Oh, I’m just kidding.. go try it, you’ll love it. No.. seriously. It’s horrible.. but I do have some advice. Don’t go cheap. DO NOT DO IT YOURSELF. I don’t care how simple and painless those TV infomercials make it look.. spring for a trip to the spa.. and not just a trip to the spa.. a trip to an EXPENSIVE spa. I’ve tried it both ways and the experience at a real spa can not compare to having a cheap wax job done by a hair dresser with a wax melter who knows how to use it. If you go cheap, prepare to wear long slacks for at least two weeks while your legs heal from all of the bruises and ingrown hairs that you’ll get... you’ll be able to put those shorts on just in time for your leg hair to start growing back! Think “She-she-poo-poo”...

Ok.. now, I think the reason why I downplay the amount of pain caused by a full leg wax is because I’ve also started getting bikini waxes. Not just regular bikini waxes, but Brazilian bikini waxes. Those Brazilians sure are wacky! I’m not sure of the history of it all or why those folks from south of the equator get the credit for the ultimate hair removal for “south of the border”.. but it’s like the Mount Everest of hair removal. It may kill you.. but it’s the best thing ever.

Once again.. if you’re going to attempt this.. remember my words about the expensive spa. No trying to do this at home kiddos. If you’re worried about the embarrassment factor.. well.. think of it like sky-diving.. once you take the plunge.. it’s all out there and you’re in a free fall and there is no going back.

The good news is that, once you’re off the IV fluids and morphine drip, you’ll feel like a million bucks. Even if you’re the only one who knows about it (aside from your new best friend at the spa), guaranteed you’ll feel like hot stuff..

- Jen (Two Moms and a Baby)

New Years updates...

Well.. while it may not seem like it, I HAVE been up to things other than updating the colors on my blog and playing Guitar Hero World Tour. I *HAVE* been a bit of a space cadet though.. so I haven't really been sharing many blog bonding moments with you all.

First of all.. Happy Anniversary Mom and Dan! We had a great time spending Christmas Eve and morning with you guys and hope we can do it again sometime. Maybe someday, we'll actually have a room for you and you won't have to camp out in the back yard!

Other stuff.. Benji has spent most of the holiday break from school either being sick with an ear infection (flared up on Christmas Day) or with a rogue virus or two. He also is on a sleep strike. I'm sure that it's because our daytime schedule is out of wack with him not having been to school for two weeks. I totally feel for his daycare providers next week.. he's going to be a bear! The good news is that his development seems to have made a huge jump.. maybe it was all the birthday cake!

He's saying all sorts of words now (like "stupid", "hola", "ru" (Ruth), "Mommy" (instead of just MaMa), "I eat it", "no nemo", "nemo no", "no nemo no", "nemo no nemo" (catching a trend?) and lots of "ohhh noooooo's".. very dramatic.

I'm doing well.. no major complaints. I've decided to go back to work full time. It is a tough pill to swallow, but given the economy and the fact that things were already really tight.. well.. I want to keep ahead of the gang. This coming Monday will be my first time back in about six months.. I should be one cranky mom on Sunday.. watch out!

The other mom is doing well.. she's tired. Two weeks of vacation will do that to you.

Oh well.. I had planned on sharing a few pics from my fancy dancy new camera, but I didn't bring the cable and my card reader can't handle the high capacity card.. doh.. so I'll have to do that later. I also have more things to finish with the blog layout (there's a surprise).. given that my home computers are crap, i may pull an all nighter with some system install and norton disks.. fun fun fun! That's how I roll...

Gay Parenting

Wait.. what... we're gay? you're friggin kidding!

I got an interesting random message from a reader who commented that he/she was surprised that my blog wasn't more about gay parenting. It struck me as highly interesting and a bit funny and probably says a LOT about who I am and what our family dynamic is.

I don't think of myself as a gay parent. I think of myself as a parent. I don't think of my wife as a gay parent, or as a "second mother".. I think of her as a parent. We're both mom's. We both love Benjamin equally or would be willing to arm wrestle over the issue. We are both legal parents.. but that's really just a formality. We were together in this from the start.. we were both there during conception (along with a very nice doctor with a HUGE mustache).. were both there through the pregnancy.. were both there through the rocky end of the pregnancy and the birth of our little guy. If anything, I think Shiela has had to deal with more stress from the experience of trying to become, becoming, and being a parent because she's had to deal with me too... and i'm a handful. Dealing with a woman duped up on fertility meds comes in neck to neck with dealing with a cranky pregnant woman.. and was one-up'd by caring for an infant and a mother with post partum depression.

We're parents. We forget that we're "gay". We are lucky in that we live in an area of the country where no one gets confused by the fact that we're both his mom and no one does double-takes when they hear us refer to each other as his moms or if they see us out doing crazy things like having dinner together at a family restaurant.

My blog isn't about being a gay parent.. because in all honesty.. there really isn't anything to talk about. The rollercoaster leading up to becoming a parent has some elements in it that obviously relate to us being in a same-sex relationship.. but since conception, the topic doesn't really come up.

If you have any questions about it.. shoot away (but be nice of course).. but it really doesn't make the top twelve things that define our family unit... so I can't guarantee an interesting answer.

As an aside.. all of that doesn't mean that we hide that we're gay or anything like that. we're out and proud man.. we both own leathermans and have a sears bright red toolbox will all of the accessories. we own our own softball mitts and know how to use them.

to quote my friend's kids.. "that's baby's mom".. "that's baby's other mom"..

Edited to add: I do admit that it is a bit ironic given that the title of the blog is "two moms and a baby".. so no comments from the peanut gallery!

Happy Father's Day

Yesterday marked our first Father's Day with Benjamin. While he is far too young to have any idea how special his family is, we know that in the future, this day will trigger a wide range of questions and emotions.

In the simplest words, Benjamin was conceived through alternative insemination with the help of both infertility treatments and the generosity of a sperm donor. Reading it in black and white, it sounds very clinical. I often wonder if those who haven't experienced infertility and those who haven't needed the help of a sperm or egg donor can understand the depth of emotion wrapped around the clinical medical jargon.

I often think about the chain of individual moments that led us to where we are today. If anything had gone differently, we would not have our Benjamin. It's overwhelming to realize how important every step of our lives is.. every breath, every thought and every decision holds with it the weight of our future. I decided to write down a bit about how we came to find Benjamin's "donor-dad" in honor of Ben's first Father's Day. Maybe the words that I come up with now.. when Ben is just 6 months old.. will help answer some questions and put him at ease in the future.

We selected Ben's donor-dad in December of 2003 when we lived in Malden, MA. We had an appointment at the Fenway Community Health Center in Boston, where we had been participating in their AI (alternative insemination) program. There was a snow storm that weekend and Malden got almost 3 feet of snow. Because of the weather, we had to take the "T" downtown -- our truck wouldn't have made it there and back.

Here is a slideshow of pictures from our trip downtown and of our old neighborhood in Malden.

We sat in their upstairs meeting room and read through the long profiles for about two dozen donors that had made our short list. Our short list was made by filtering through the hundreds of cataloged available donors to select men that were similar in ancestry to both of us and based on a few simple characteristics -- brown hair, blue or green eyes, average height and build. One donor that made our short list that did not fit this description had strawberry blonde hair. There was something about this donor that caught our attention.

As we read through the long profile for each donor, we quickly brought our list from about two dozen down to two. It amazed me how "easy" it was.. we just knew. The other really interesting part of this is that both Shiela and I agreed every step of the way. There was never a point where one of us was trying to convince the other that one donor was preferable over another.

After about an hour, we had two charts on the table. The donor with the strawberry blonde hair was one of them. The final step was to check the donor's CMV status. CMV stands for Cytomegalovirus. If a mom becomes infected with this virus while she is pregnant, then there is a risk to the baby. If a donor has been exposed to the virus and the bio-mom has not, then there is a risk to the baby. I had been tested negative for CMV, so we needed to select a donor who was also CMV-negative. Of our two "finalists"... Mr. Strawberry-Blonde was negative and the other was not.

Selecting a donor was a very challenging and surreal experience, emotionally. We were selecting the biological father of our future child. This wasn't something that either of us took lightly. Overwhelming... yes! Surprisingly, the final decision did not end up feeling difficult. Something about our donor-dad clicked with us from the beginning and we never second-guessed our decision.

Ben was conceived in April of 2006. I remember some of my thoughts in the early days of my pregnancy. This man that was the biological father of my future child became very real to me. I wondered what he looked like. I wondered what his laugh sounded like. I suddenly had a hundred questions that could never be answered on paper. This was a person who gave me a child. I wanted to thank him.

Benjamin was born in December of 2006. I've thought long and hard about how to answer the question "Do I have a father?". Yes, Benjamin, you do. Your father is a wonderful, generous, man who we love. We do not know his name and he does not know ours, but there is not a day that goes by where we don't think about him and thank him for helping our family.

Yesterday was Benjamin's first Father's Day. We honored his biological father, his donor-dad, by making a donation to the March of Dimes. We thought long and hard trying to find a tangible way to thank Ben's donor-dad. Our experience with Benjamin being born prematurely gave us insight to this idea. The March of Dimes has made a difference for so many children and families from the days of helping children with Polio to their tireless fight to end prematurity. We plan to make a donation each year on Father's Day in honor of Ben's donor-dad. Thank you.