Brains: an update

Thanks for the Ts & Ps, y’all. I didn’t realize how much anxiety I had about so much of this until I wrote it out, and then got a migraine in the middle of a meeting and came home and lost it with my sweet L.

I went to see the neurologist today. After describing what I am experiencing, she concluded that there are a few things that could be going on:

  1. Something in the vasculature of my head or neck that is preventing blood flow return.
  2. the fainting is an aura for  different kind of migraine.
  3. Orthostatic hypotension.

She did a bunch of exam tests today, including measurements of my blood pressure sitting, standing, lying down, after 1 minute, 2 minutes, 5 minutes, on and on and on. My blood pressure was normal and stable throughout. She said that while this doesn’t rule out orthostatic hypotension, it does make her think this is less likely.

She said that because of my family history of brain aneurysm and vascular bleeds, she would like me to have a CT angiogram of my brain to rule out aneurysm or other potential issues, though she doesn’t think what I’m experiencing is caused by an aneurysm. She did say that with a family history, this is generally a good idea on a somewhat regular basis to look for aneurysm. This can also see anything funny in the veins and arteries of my neck.

She has also ordered an ultrasound of the neck to check the vasculature here and make sure there aren’t blockages or other issues.

She’s going to run those tests, and asked me to wear compression stockings (exciting!), add more water (not sure this is possible since I drink upwards of 100 oz a day already, but . . .) and add some salt to my diet (I personally do not think I need more salt as that isn’t something I skimp on, but . . .ok) If the CT and US come back normal, she will repeat the blood pressure checks at sitting/standing/lying and, if I’m still having episodes and the blood pressure checks don’t indicate anything, she’ll put me on a migraine preventative medication to see if that helps.

So, there’s a plan. It involves a catheter going from my arm to my brain, which is scary, but it’s a plan and I’ll get some information.

And maybe the compression stockings will work?




You may recall that after years of getting migraines very ‘seasonally’ (ie: like 3-4 times a year on ‘special occassions’) I started getting them 2-3 times a month this past summer. I attributed this to the move from Denver to Seattle, although in retrospect, the increase actually started before we moved. I went to the doctor in September and was given a prescription for sumatriptan (Imi.trex) which works, insofar as it stops the migraine pain (mostly) but also sucks because I get weird hot flashes and a general warmed-over shit feeling which is at least a more functional misery than a migraine but still mostly blows.

So, with the imi.trex, I’ve been able to handle the migraines, which still happen between 1-3 times a month now. I’ve found if I take a half a pill with a bunch of water, then some ibuprofen, then the other half about an hour later, I can kind of ease out of the migraine/ease into the imi.trex barfo feeling, which is generally more palatable than the alternative. So, it’s managed but not, like, “good” or anything.

About 5 weeks ago, I was walking from my desk in the middle of cubeville to the kitchen to wash my spoon, I think. (Details are hazy) I got back there and started feeling a little funny . . .light headed, my vision got a little dark and blurry, my head was throbby. Someone said something to me – I think maybe there was something caught on my skirt? – and I could barely respond because I felt so crazy and I knew I needed to sit down but for whatever reason felt like I needed to go back to my desk to do that? I was walking back to my desk and I knew I was going to pass out but, again, I stayed focused on getting back to my chair, and right before my legs started buckling I made eye contact with one of the (many, many) nurses I work with who said, “Are you ok?” I got out, “uh, no” before I abruptly sat down, probably just seconds before I would have hit the ground anyway. She ran to get the (nurse) supervisor, who asked me if I was ok. I took a few minutes to sit on the group , then stood up and felt . . .well, mostly fine. I went back to my desk and sat a bit more and, aside from a throbbing headache, I was ok.

I figured I was probably dehydrated and didn’t think much of it. I have had the occasional dizzy spell and even full on fainted in college while smoking on my RA’s balcony, so it didn’t feel that out of the ordinary. I pushed the water that night and the next day.

The next day, I got out of my car to walk into Staples, made it all the way into the store from the parking lot and it started again, the darkness closing in and weak legs and swimming head. This time, at least, I had the sense to just sit down where I was (right there in the printer aisle!) and avoid actually falling. I waited a few minutes, it passed, I stood up and went about my office supply shopping.

But now I was a little worried. So, I made a point to really focus on drinking water and to start splitting my snacks and lunch up better so I was eating every couple of hours. I googled a little bit, and mostly I found two explanations for the kind of fainting spells I was experiencing. Vasovagal – which is almost always triggered by something like standing, heat, anxiety, fear, blood, needles . . .not, you know, walking. Or from orthostatic hypotension – where your blood pressure drops from standing up too fast. But, this fainting seems to happen almost immediately after standing and is usually associated with dehydration. So, I was doing what I could.

Since then, these dizzy/fainting spells have happened between 2-4 times a week. And yes, now I’m starting to get scared.

I mean, for one . . .losing (or almost losing) consciousness is scary once, let alone multiple times in a month. Second, there doesn’t seem to be a connection to anything – they’ve happened before eating, after eating, in the morning and in the evening, at work (mostly) and at home, and a few times at public places. Now that I know what’s happening, I can sit down when they come on. It’s always soon after standing, but not immediately upon standing. Sometimes it’s after sitting for an hour or more, sometimes after just a little while. I’ve tried stretching my legs and standing in place before walking, getting up every half hour, and none of it seems to matter.

But whenever something related to my head happens, I get a little extra freaked because weird brain shit runs in my family. My maternal grandmother had a brain aneurysm which doctors tried to surgically repair. During the surgery, something happened (my mom says “she didn’t have a back up blood supply” which doesn’t make sense to me but, you know, not a doctor) which caused her to have a stroke on the table. The stroke cause paralysis on the right side of her body, which she lived with for the last 25+ years of her life. She was bitter and mean and while she was like that before her stroke, she was resentful that they hadn’t just left the aneurysm alone to let her die rather than be paralyzed.

When I was a junior in high school, my uncle (my mom’s brother, aka the above named grandmother’s son) – who had been estranged from our family for most of my life, just weird side note – was rushed to the hospital where they discovered he had a bleed in one of the carotid arteries, and a blockage in the other – at the same fucking time. This is particularly bad because the treatment for one is the worst possible thing for the other, and vice versa. In this case, they did leave him alone and he ultimately ‘recovered’, albeit after weeks in the ICU and months in a trauma rehab center. He also never worked again and can’t remember chunks of his life so . . .recover is, you know, relative.

Basically, as my aunt says, “bad shit happens in our brains.” My aunt who also suffers from migraines. My aunt who did not undergo the recommended testing after her mother’s brain aneurysm and subsequent stroke. (my mom did and was assured she’s ok as far as the ‘back up blood’ thing goes and then said, “you’re MY daughter so I’m sure you’re fine too”, because her understanding of genetics is, you know, lacking.)

ALL of this + knowing someone my age who recently died from a fluke brain thing coming out of nowhere has me feeling . . .uh . . .nervous.

I went to my doctor yesterday and told her about all of this. She didn’t seem worried, but she did seem confused and a little concerned. She decided to run a bunch of tests – mostly looking for deficiencies, metabolic issues, etc. I thought – YES! B12 or magnesium or something must be lacking  . . .hell, I’d even take a diabetes/pre-diabetes dx!

But the blood work came back this morning – all normal. Nothing even borderline. “I’m making a referral to neurology.” She wrote in my chart.

So, this morning I called the neurologist and somehow managed to score an appointment tomorrow (thanks to a cancellation!) rather than having to wait another 6-8 weeks.

Guess it’s time to walk forward, right on into that fear, huh?

Hearts and Eggs and Springtime Dandies!

Just as a follow up from my last post . . . thank you all for your kindness and the prayers, love and light sent to the Conductor and B’s communities and family in Seattle and Denver. Care was withdrawn last Saturday and B died soon after. There is a lot of grief, but also love and celebration of the magic and friendship and love B brought to the world.


Last Saturday, L reached the half-way point in her pregnancy! She let me take some belly pictures of her in drag!



I don’t want to speak for her (maybe she’ll want to speak for herself . . .ahem . . .since she reads this blog!) but I know being a genderqueer person and pregnant hasn’t been the easiest for her self-image, either. I think she looks like a perfectly hot androgynous pregnant dandy, don’t you?!? I’m hoping we can keep these up, though maybe not weekly – the moustache takes a lot of work!



She still feels like shit, especially if she doesn’t take her zo.fran regularly. Last Saturday, we ventured out on a hike in the (magical enchanted fairy) PacNW forest (our first since we moved here!) and she forgot the pill. It seemed like she was doing OK and so we got excited . . .and then it rebounded and she was miserable for days. I know it’s super demoralizing for her to feel so crappy all of the time, and we both were feeling hopeful that maybe it was getting better on its own.


She’s feeling Tiny move a lot now – I think it’s gone from occasional and not-quite-sure to quite a bit in just a week or so – which I remember being the case with Ansel as well. I’m super psyched for when I can feel Tiny on this side of things, though I know it might still be a while.


Yesterday, we had our 20w Anatomy Scan ultrasound. Tiny is looking good, still definitely has a penis/scrotum, and is measuring just a little bit ahead at 14oz. He was all cozy, head down and posterior, tucked into L’s cervix like he was just gonna keep getting more comfortable until it was time to come out. For this reason, they were able to see most of his parts and reassure us of his health and anatomy . . .except for his heart. They didn’t see anything concerning, they just didn’t get a clear enough view to rule everything out. So, back we go in 2 weeks to see if they can get a better look at his little heart!




(also, PS – the U/S place at the hospital will only give you pictures on a GD writable CD like . . .does anyone have a CD drive on their computer anymore? Because we do not. Which means we have to take the CD to walgreens or whatever and have them print or e-mail or whatever the pictures. REALLY? Is this actually more economical? Also, even with badass insurance we are still paying like $300 per U/S so maybe give us a little parting gift?! So, that’s why these are at a funny angle because I just took them with my phone.)

Our Easter was very quiet and a little rough around the edges. On Saturday, we set out for a hike – both because we’ve been wanting to get out into our new home’s natural beauty, and because our insurance offers an incentive if you do a “Parks Challenge” – so we can get discounts on our deductible and out-of-pocket if we go on 6 hikes. The hike we chose was about 2.5 miles and should have taken us about an hour total. Of course, I misread the instructions and we ended up going in the opposite direction of the chosen trail (and the text code we needed to get credit for the hike!) and just about tripling the length of time and distance of our hike. Ansel was in our sweet new (to us) hiking pack on my back, so he was happy (and I was tired) but we ran pretty significantly into his nap and didn’t bring lunch with us. So . . .he ended up falling asleep on the car ride home but waking up when we got back. We fed him lunch and then tried to put him down, which was a struggle (not typical for him) and meant he didn’t go down until almost 3:30pm – and he didn’t wake up until 6!



We knew we were probably Totally Fucked © , but we kept him up just a little later than usual, and he seemed to fall asleep ok. But he slept terribly and woke up for the day on Sunday just before 6am. The EB had delivered a basket full of arts’n’crafts gifts from the Grandma’s and a wooden tool set from the Moms, and he dove right in playing. A bit later in the morning, L hid some eggs full of Annie’s bunny cookies and a few jelly beans around the front yard, and he dutifully and happily retrieved them – and didn’t actually care what was in them! He spent the rest of the day semi-obsessed with counting the eggs, lining them up into a train formation, and opening and reassembling them over and over again. He also went to bed that night with an egg clutched in his hand (Librarian – I know you feel me on this, girl!) and at 2:30am awoke screaming because his little fist had cracked it in two and he could only be consoled by the egg being reassembled and placed back in his hand. Toddlers, man.


We did get Ansel’s picture taken with The Bunny which . . .I dunno, guys . . .The Bunny is waaaay creepier than S.Claus, right? I mean, they had us pick out a weird psychedelic background (I swear, they were all this intense) and the Bunny was, like, super uninviting and just weird and awkward. Ansel tolerated it, but you can see that behind his smile is a clear message: “I am doing this for you and I want to get the fuck away from this weird thing as soon as I humanely can.” Like, he is DEFINITELY doing us a favor in this one.


And we made cheesy potato casserole with ham in it, which feels about as Easter-fancy as you get when it’s just two moms and a toddler. But, it was delicious.


Finally . . .will we ever get more than a single night of uninterrupted sleep again? I mean, I know we just signed up for a double-down on this thing, but I had forgotten the pain of hourly wake-ups until just this afternoon, when my eyes are burning and I feel kind of nauseated just from the exhaustion. To be fair, Ansel probably woke up so much because (stupid stupid stupid) we gave him a pillow in his bed last night because he’s been somewhat pillow obsessed when he’s in our bed and we thought he might be into it. While the theory is unproven, I feel pretty sure it contributed significantly to the many, many instances of screaming fits in the night. Of course, when I tried to remove it from the crib, I was met with wailing, “pih-oh, no mihne mihne, pih-oh!” so all we could do was suffer together.


The great thing is, I am officially out of fucks to give about going to bed before it’s fully dark out.

Love and Loss

My first real girlfriend was The Conductor. We first met when I was in college, and she lived in a punk community house with a friend of mine. I was immediately smitten, but it took a few more years, until we were both working at the local bookstore/coffee shop, before we got together. We dated for almost three years. Most of that time, we were in an open relationship (and it was awesome). Some of that time we were just friends who slept together. We never lived together. We never talked about having kids. We were 22, 23, 24, and we rode bikes and drank coffee and talked about politics.

I loved The Conductor deeply, although I feel more clear that I was never ‘in love’ with her in that terrible, consuming, soul sucking way. I loved her, and I still do. And probably because we had such a lovely, mostly easy, free spirited friendship-relationship, it was pretty easy for us to stay great friends after we broke up. For a long time, she lived in a house just two blocks over from me, and I’d stop by to sit on the porch and drink coffee and eat day old bread.

The Conductor taught me a lot of things: how to true a wheel and fix a bike chain, how to cook a really good soup with just the vegetables that Whole Foods wants to throw out, how horrific the insurance industry is when you have a life-long chronic disease, what it’s like to be the shorter person in the relationship (at 5’11”, once I came out I thought that ship had sailed . . .but The Conductor is 6’1″), the difference between kindness and niceness, that you can love love but hate romance, how to show up as yourself wherever you go. The Conductor loved weddings (though she was a terrible girlfriend in the traditional lovey-dovey way and will likely never get married herself) and happily agreed to be our wedding stage manager/coordinator.

A few years ago, The Conductor started dating her partner, B. I’d never seen her eyes light up like that. She hated to be in love, I could tell, but she was. It was that kind of can’t escape, soul sucking, follow you wherever you go love. She tried to stick with her sensible reserve, but she couldn’t. For better or worse, she did things she never would have done before because she was in love. By the time The Conductor and B were together, we weren’t hanging out as much. I was married and pregnant and we didn’t live so close together anymore. But we kept in touch and I knew she was a goner for B, that she was full scale in love. And I knew that, for that reason alone, B had to be a pretty remarkable person, because The Conductor’s head doesn’t turn for just anyone. (Not ever me, not really.)

A little over a month ago, The Conductor took B to the emergency room because some things were seeming unusual. While in the ER waiting room, B had a seizure. And then another and another. The doctors put B in a medically induced coma to help stop the seizures, or at least their damage. And they ran tests and tried treatments and still, B was in a coma. A week ago, they tried one last thing to get the seizures to stop. It didn’t work. The seizures had so badly damaged B’s brain that she could no longer breathe on her own.

So, a few days ago The Conductor and B’s family decided to withdraw care. B will die.

My heart is busted for my friend, for the person who taught me so much about love and kindness and taking care of each other. The Conductor took her love to the hospital and then . . .that was it. B went from, in many ways, totally fine to coma to unable to live in the space of a few weeks. B is 30 something. B was healthy. Everything about the situation is heartwrenchingly sad. It’s sad in the tangible sense of my dear friend losing her love. It is sad in the theoretical sense that yes, really, it CAN happen to anyone and yes, fucking awful tragedy happens all the damn time and no, it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair. It’s never fair.

Last night I went to a queer parent networking dinner, hosted by a great organization and organized by one of our only friends here. We broke into small groups to share what’s up in our lives, and I mentioned this story – it’s weighing heavy on my heart. And two of the 4 people in my group said, “You knew B in Denver? We are her friends too.” I’d almost forgotten that B moved to Denver from Seattle and of course she’d have friends here, of course the tragic unbelievability would ripple this far west. They knew B very well – I just knew her in passing, as my friend’s great love. But it still felt important that the universe had brought us together. But the echo of just how small and deeply entangled the queer community is also felt a little heartbreaking.

Today, L and I celebrate 5 years since our Big Gay Love Extravaganza Event (aka the B-GLEE, aka our wedding) It’s a big deal, somehow in my mind, to have been married for 5 years (I mean, we also got for real married about 3 years ago but I can’t even really remember the date because it was on a whim when the 9th circuit ruled another state’s marriage amendment unconstitutional. And there was the civil union on May 1 2014. But, I digress.) And it feels somehow heavier, more important to acknowledge the fleetingness of all love, all life.  I feel even more deeply in love with my girl, and our boy and the tiny fetus Tiny, too. But I also feel scared. I guess that’s what love is, tenuous and fragile and scary.

Say some prayers for my friend, won’t you? And the vast community in Denver who is mourning for B and trying to handle the reality of this impossibility. They need some extra light right now.


Ups and Downs

I can’t decide if I love or hate that so many of my recent posts have fallen into the bullet list format . . .but it feels helpful for organization and also maybe allows you all to skip to the things you are actually interested in?

So, here we go again.


  1. The Mortgage Chronicles (bi-polar feels): So, I have been talking to two different lenders – one of whom gives us a break on some closing costs thanks to an employer sponsored program, the other who is an old lesbian who really really loves working with ‘family.’ They started out giving us pretty vastly different perspectives on loans but, through a process of asking one about the other’s offer and vice versa, it’s narrowed to two very similar but vaguely different possibilities. Ultimately, this is really stressful because I am not super good at discerning these differences or making decisions once the differences are discerned and also, I am going to have to reject one of them and that sucks. What sucks MORE is that the loan program that would really be the BEST for us financially, we cannot qualify for. Despite La not being on the mortgage application, because we are married and file taxes jointly, her student loan debt has to be factored into our debt-to-income ratio at a 1% payment (even though we do not pay 1% of the balance a month; we don’t pay anything, actually – thanks, Income Based Repayment plans!) So, we can’t benefit from her amazing credit, but her debt gets counted? I hate financial shit.
    1. Side note: yes, this is actually how student loan debt is keeping people from accumulating wealth because the only loans that don’t do this kind of shit (where they factor loans at 1% of balance instead of the actual payment being made) are conventional loans, where you need a 10% down payment, which is a lot of fucking money. We have a 10% down payment only because we sold a house that had an FHA loan (where I only needed 3% down – MUCH more reasonable to save!) which means, like all wealth, it snowballs and. . . this whole situation makes me want to RAGE.
  2. Adjunctly, the house buying chronicles: So, now we know what we qualify for and are, in fact, pre-approved by two different lenders. But we can’t now run out and do the fun part of this process – house hunting. At least, not yet. But when? Well . . .I don’t know. You see, our lease ends on July 31st. Thanks to the way mortgages work, we can financially afford to close on a mortgage as early as the mid to end of June – since we wouldn’t have to make the first month’s mortgage payment (“technically” since it’s covered in the cash at closing, but . . .whatever) but we really can’t afford to pay both rent and a mortgage payment. We also cannot get out of our lease at all early, per the very strong language in our lease, even if we were able to find a sub-letter, without losing our deposit and still having to pay rent. Of course, it should be assumed that our asshole landlords would also not allow us to stay past our move-out date without incurring huge fees either, because they are assholes. This is all complicated enough, but what makes it even harder is that the market here is out of control. By which I mean, it’s a brawl to get a house as a buyer, especially in our price range. Buyers are doing ‘pre-inspections,’ waiving appraisals, putting crazy amounts of cash down, or writing multiple offers on different homes and not getting them accepted. Inventory is also at an all time low right now, so there isn’t even a whole lot for us to look at. Trying to straddle these competing priorities is making me feel crazy and anxious. The fact that we have the looming deadline of a baby just a month later just makes it that much more intense.
  3. So, that’s the hard stuff. And it’s definitely hard. But, it’s also minimal (for now, anyway) and I can ignore it for days at a time.
  4. This weekend, The Professor (my BFF from high school) and his family came to visit (they live in PDX) – he has a son just about a month older than A and a daughter who just turned 4. It was loud and intense, but also super fun. It gives me all the warm feels to see my kid and my BFF’s kids playing together, knowing we’ve been friends for 20 years. We went to the aquarium and to an easter egg hunt at another friend’s house. And Ansel slept like shit. And I judged my friend’s parenting, kind of intensely. These two things are, not surprisingly, connected. I am also pretty certain the Professor, or at least his wife, judged our parenting too, which makes me feel slightly less like an asshole. It’s hard, right? Because really, I don’t want to judge people’s parenting. We are all doing the best we can, and every kid is different, and we all have things we do well and things we could do better. But then again, OMGtheyletthe4yearoldstayupuntil1130. What is the middle path here, friends?17880174_10154528828506864_3380130826104212775_o.jpg
  5. On the upside, Ansel definitely benefitted from the exposure in many ways. He picked up quite a few new sentences/phrases. Also, even cuter, he picked up playing with his stuffed toys in pretend/imaginary play and I DIE of adorable when he does it. He’s been doing the pretend stuff for a while, but just with him and sometimes us. Now, he gets Elmo and the Bear and his two sock monkeys (wearing Duke and NC jerseys, because his Aunt and Uncle in North Carolina might have a little rivalry going on that they sucked him into . . .) and Petunia the stuffed bulldog and he puts them places and gets them drinks and makes them dance and puts us in charge of them and it’s really SO CUTE. He has also started saying, “Go away!” to the dogs when he doesn’t want them around. This is less cute. But still kind of cute.
  6. Ansel is also much more demanding about our participation when he plays, or, at least, our observation of his playing while on the floor. Basically, we can no longer sit on the couch or chair without him approaching us both, grabbing a hand, and saying “Play, mama. Mama. Play.” And he has started using many more sentences and words, all of which is really helping assuage my ongoing concern about his language. We can now frequently carry on somewhat real conversations with him – ask him what he wants and get a response, point things out, get his perspective. There’s still a fair amount of interpretation that has to take place, but it’s a relief to feel like he’s really catching up!
  7. He had his 2 year well child appointment, and continue to be in the 50th %ile for weight and height* and the doctor felt like he was meeting the milestones (yes, Andie, even the verbal ones!) so that’s all excellent. He’s 28lbs, which seems impossible when he was barely 6lbs two years ago! Also, after having some serious struggles finding a pediatric practice we like, we are IN LOVE with this one. So in love that we may very well keep driving up to them even after we move south.
  8. I continue to feel exhausted by the awfulness of the world. Of our president firing missiles and deploying war ships and starting fights on twitter; of his advisors denying the holocaust; of the ongoing investigations into wrongdoing that never seem to result in anything actually happening. I’m so worn down and I’m starting to get numb to it in a lot of ways. And that feels scary too.
  9. It’s spring break for most of the school districts around, including the one I mostly work with. I’m not involved enough to get the week off, but my work is enough school related that I have a VERY empty schedule this week. Empty enough that yesterday I played hooky to stay home and do a lot of nothing with my family. It was really, really lovely to drink coffee and stay in PJs and play with my kid and just not be rushed. I’m grateful for the opportunity.
  10. Next week we see Tiny again, for the 20 week ultrasound. The midwife practice that we are at this time around has longer appointments further apart, which means it feels like forever since we had that comforting reassurance of a Doppler scan or other appointment. Next week, we get two – the ultrasound and then an appointment the next day. While it’s nice to have a low risk pregnancy really treated like no big deal, it’s also a little hard to feel connected when there aren’t opportunities to ‘check in’ with our little fetus. L is still only feeling Tiny on occasion, so she is also ready to have some medical confirmation that all is well. Mostly, I still feel somewhat disbelieving that we will have another child in just a few months. Saturday is 20 weeks, and L said she might finally let me take a picture!
  11. Can I get some recommendations on double strollers from all you parents of 2+? We’d ideally like one that isn’t a “double wide” because I already have a lot of feelings about the space strollers take up. Also, any other stuff you feel is a necessary item for baby #2 that we maybe don’t have already?
  12. You all, my mom. Mostly, moving away was such a good idea because I now really enjoy my parents so much more when I talk to them. But there are definitely some ongoing issues. For example: My parents are in the process of moving out of the home I (mostly) grew up in and moving into a new ranch house in the same neighborhood as my brother and SIL. My mom is, therefore, hella stressed out because she maybe has some hoarding tendencies and has amassed a lot of shit + my dad is basically out of commission physically with moving stuff because of his condition + financially things are always up for people with housing stuff + you know, other stuff. Before they made the (somewhat sudden) decision to move, she had mentioned that it would be better for us to come out to Denver rather than them travelling here again, and she offered to pay for our tickets. We are trying to figure out travel back to Indy + travel to Denver + maybe moving before Tiny comes in early September, and so I called to ask if some dates were ok and get the go-ahead for her to pay for the tickets. And she was super fucking weird about the whole thing. Like, she said “ok” but sounded really put out and concerned that we were coming to close to their move date but you know, we can’t exactly book a trip in July when L is 30 something weeks pregnant and also we might be moving with no family or much friend help so June is kind of the only option OK? And we have a long history of things being weird when it comes to money and my mom and it’s just so fucking stressful. I just want this stuff not to be an issue. UGH.
  13. I cannot wait to show Ansel this picture of him playing with a condom balloon when he’s a teenager!17855132_10154521604336864_5002901161705183433_o.jpg



*The asterisk is because technically they measured him in the 25th for height but L feels pretty sure that they measured wrong because he was wiggling around and he seems to be the same proportionally but I guess it’s possible he slipped into the 20th?