Lobster

When Steve first mentioned this trip to Florida he described it in terms of back-to-back business meetings. He also said that it was important that Patrick and I come with him. This seemed kinda oxymoronic to me. Not that I have anything against Florida (except the sun and the humidity, as noted) but I always dislike hauling the child to unfamiliar locations where I will then exist as his sole source of entertainment. If that's going to be the case I would rather just stay at home where the Legos are. When I stated this, however, Steve looked stern like some sort of village elder and assured me that it was vital to the existence of the business - the very business that puts the sugar in my tea - for the families to spend time together on an annual basis. I think this is a managing practice founded on the principles of Victorian melodrama; to wit, they are all less likely to club each other over the head at the newly discovered gold mine entrance and lie about it afterwards if they can picture the others' wives and wee bairns back at home in Jolly Old Wherever.

My Dear Mrs. Hippogriffs,

It is with a heavy heart that I write these Sad Tidings: Poor Steven succumbed to Fever and was buried in the jungle.

Yrs Trly, X

PS We did not (alas!) find the gold mine we sought so I am afraid your husband's stake in this Accursed Venture is forfeit. I did, however and by remarkable coincidence, find a completely different gold mine on my way home.   

So I went to Florida and Steve did indeed work the entire time but it was actually lots of fun, primarily because one of the partners has a four-year old daughter named A who thought Patrick was the coolest thing ever and he returned the sentiment. He likes trains and she likes dressing up like a princess, and it all meshed beautifully because he would look up from his train works to admire the gown with the heels with the crown with the veil and she would sit there looking pretty and complimenting his clever track layout. Yeah I know Gloria Steinem just rolled over something but what can you do? Then they took turns making up poems and telling each other how good the poems had been. Most importantly they have the same sense of humor so they laughed for three days straight. It was, in a word, delightful and for the first time in my life I discovered that two children who click really do make life much easier than trying to amuse one by yourself.

We talked a bit about my IVF cycle and she said she didn't know how I do it. She said she could not. Would not. She knows about Steve's quest for his birth family and his decision to not adopt any children himself and she asked a bit about that. I answered as best I could but, honestly, the more I read stories from other adoptees and the more I try to REALLY listen when Steve talks about it, the more I realize that it is just a very complicated personal issue and I'm merely a by-stander. Affected, certainly, but not involved. I cannot explain him or his feelings. I just accept them. 

I think if she and I had had this same conversation online it might have rankled. The difference in how we have approached a similar problem (and our reasons for doing so) might have been interpreted as implicit criticism. But sitting on her couch, watching our children play so nicely together and taking a deep mutual pleasure in their joy; it was just... easy. Easy to be different and easy to respect and sympathize with those differences.

After we got all misty agreeing that we each have the most perfect child ever imagined and we are each the luckiest woman alive we took them 80 miles across Florida to the Astronaut Hall of Fame (for Patrick) and the beach (for A). Five hours later we could cheerfully have murdered them both. The sand! The sun! The stickiness! The not listening! The sand! The incessant talking! The throwing themselves on the sand to make SAND ANGELS after we had just given them a final rinse! Aaaaaaaaaaaaah! 

And speaking of the beach, check this out...

Isn't this the most pathetic thing you have ever seen in your life?

No, I don't know why I didn't ask for help with the sunscreen. Yes, I am aware of the fact that I am not physically capable of reaching my entire back with my own hands no matter how wide they are. Yes, I realize that I am very sensitive to sun exposure. No, I don't like not being able to sleep on my back. Yes, I did have squamous cells removed from my abdomen two years ago. So, um, YES I am a total fucking idiot. DAMN IT.

Finally, TRA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA! [That was supposed to be a trumpet voluntary]

The REDBOOK Infertility Diaries are up tomorrow, April 17th, um, at some New York Standard Time as yet unspecified. I have no idea what it looks like yet but I DO have three posts up and, urhhhrphm, remember our deal? About leaving comments? *NUDGE NUDGE* Go. Say something. Anything. Don't make me beg. Did you see my back? I've been humiliated enough this week.

I think this is my link: www.redbookmag.com/your/infertility/

PS I am re-doing my sidebar but I'll have it back up again this week.

*Updated to add: I fixed the link so it should work now. And I was personally blinded by the hot pink skin (focus people!) but now that you mention it, that IS a flattering photo of my silhouette- you're right. It is also completely misleading as gravity is graciously pulling everything forward and hiding it. Truth in blogging, right here.

Comments

[Jen P]

Dude, Julia. You have to register. And it's not one of those simple 2 line ones either. Argh. If I have to I have to...

I'm glad Patrick found a friend. Sometimes the purest happiness is the feeling you get when someone laughs at your jokes and gets them.

After the burn is over get some self-tanner and you can get someone else to even it out. My husband has had to play this game after eventful gardening accidents; not true plant accidents, but you know, like when your pants roll over accidentally and leave a strip of tan vs the rest of your white backside. Yeeeeeah.

I imagine that's why we get married these days. Someone to self-tan our backsides.

Oh, and I upped my count: 2 D&Cs and 1 D&E for retained product. Is that internet folklore material or what?

I hope you're doing well.

[Flicka]

I love that you had an awesome time with Alayna and her mom. Even more that Patrick found a soul mate (if only for three days of intense playing.)

But I have to admit, I don't think it's fair that you should be such a talented writer and skinny, too. Would you be averse to me shipping you some pound cake and a can of lard?

xo

[Slim]

Blah blah blah gravity, sure, you bet.

I think the photo is somehow connected to your reference to 19th century explorers' wives, who no doubt looked like this when corseted (not the burn, the narrowness). I assume Steve can span your waist with his hands.

[-Blue]

1) ouch, ouch, OUCH!

2) Gravity ... right. Darn you to heck for being so svelt.

3) I'm so glad you and Patrick had a grand time. Hey, i have a Patrick Lite as well! My Boy, who is not in school as yet, and so is 'forced' to socialized only with his siblings and his (also a lovely, bright, and gorgeous Russian adoptee) cousin, who has been in day care and pre-school and is teaching him about the rough social ways of the world. *rolls eyes*

*scurries off to Redbook*

[LMM]

Just got back from FL last night myself and I look very similar. After coming out blotchy and burned two different days we were FINALLY able to discern that it was bad sunscreen. Apparently it expires? Who knew? So I have streaks and blotches of red everywhere. Lovely.
Welcome back and congrats again on the new gig.

[Wendy]

Gravity and lobsters aside, you look mahhhvelous dahling.