St Paul Saints and Larry Craig?

This just in via Cousin (yet another reason why she's cooler than we are!).

Lee Badgett Rocks the House: Plays part in CA Nuptuals

A fellow economist and semi-mentor of mine helps the CA same-sex marriage law. See the article here!

Doubting My Ability to Survive Their Childhood

Because every moment is an "opportunity" when you're a parent, I've been (until today) delighted to ride bikes with Eight to school in the morning (her school starts at 7:55 a.m. and it's about 10 blocks away).

This morning, I pointed out her bike, which had been left almost literally at our front door, and said to meet me at the corner (see diagram) as I went through the garage to get my bike.

We had been running out of time to be able to bike because she had a bit of math homework to do before school.

For those of you who don't have school-aged kids yet, you can look forward to helping with math problems (she said facetiously). Eight year olds, being themselves, are literally immune to help due to the fact that they are already in possession of all relevant knowledge. Or any real direction, advice or anything resembling any of the above.

Anyway, I ambled down to the garage (no coffee in my body yet), and reported promptly to the designated meeting location where Eight was nowhere to be seen or heard.

My heart sort of skipped, but I just waited.

And waited.

And waited.

At some point the neighbors across the street pulled out of their garage, heading toward school and, because they were in a car and on their way, I realized that we could be cutting it a bit short, on bikes as we had planned and still, she was nowhere in sight.

I thought, could she have already headed out on her way to school?

Had she taken a "quick" warm-up around the block?

Where in the %$#@& was she???

At some point I see her round the alley.

Me: Where were you?

She: You said to meet at the garage?

Me: Okay, but how did you GET to the garage?

She: Through the backyard and two back gates? They were locked, you know. . .

Me: ??

Me: Um. Why didn't you just come down to the sidwalk and go to the garage?

She: I didn't know there was another way to the garage.

Two Spring Pictures

Yeah CA!

Today's headline: California Supreme Court Overturns Gay Marriage Ban

The Associated Press (my bold):

"The California Supreme Court has overturned a voter-approved ban on gay marriage, paving the way for the state to become the second in the United States where gay and lesbian residents can marry.

The justices released the 403 decision Thursday, saying that domestic partnerships are not a good enough substitute for marriage in an opinion written by Chief Justice Ron George.

Outside the courthouse, gay marriage supporters cried and cheered as news spread of the decision.

In striking down the ban, the court said, 'In contrast to earlier times, our state now recognizes that an individual's capacity to establish a loving and long-term committed relationship with another person and responsibility to care for and raise children does not depend upon the individual's sexual orientation, and, more generally, that an individual's sexual orientation--like a person's race or gender--does not constitute a legitimate basis on which to deny or withhold legal rights.

The cases were brought by the city of San Francisco, two dozen gay and lesbian couples, Equality California and another gay rights group in March 2004 after the court halted San Francisco's monthlong same-sex wedding march that took place at Mayor Gavin Newsom's direction.

'Today the California Supreme Court took a giant leap to ensure that everybody--not just in the state of California, but throughout the country--will have equal treatment under the law,' said City Attorney Dennis Herrera, who argued the case for San Francisco.

Irregular Monthly Newsletter: 29 Months

This newsletter is about a week late, but I'll blame that on you, honey, as you are seriously in the throws of being two.

That and finals and a research deadline and volunteering at your sister's school....

I've finally realized why I'm slowly losing my mind, or at least acquiring a disproportionate amount of gray hair, Big. Basically, if one of us (BioMom or I, or some other caretaker) is not directly watching you, SOMETHING happens. It may be as small as you peeing all over the floor, or picking on the cat, or getting into your sister's paint, or gum stash or, as we regrettably found out a little to late the other night, that you can now open the gates in our backyard on your own (we found you, luckily, moseying down the sidewalk on the little blue Carebear trike that your grandpa gave you -- as opposed to underneath the tire of a moving car, or in the back of some windowless white van accompanied with a ransom request).

You're nearly two-and-a-half years old now and sometimes I look at you and I see this stretched out, tallish-looking KID, and it's really weird. And that's just LOOKING at you. Watching you and listening to you just exaggerates it. You're really competent physically and, well, it's a bit of a relief to me. Just today, I watched you crawl all over a neighbor's backyard jungle-gym-ish sort of thing and, although I watched you carefully, I no longer panic at the thought of you climbing higher than me and possibly falling. I know that you can either handle it, or the fall.

You've started that two-and-a-half year old semi-sensical babble that is so fun to try to decipher. BioMom will ask you about your day and I love to listen to what you remember, what affected you, and what bubbles up from past experiences. Sometimes you'll totally bust me. Yesterday, for example, we ran into Father and Mother of Four (who were, incidentally looking for their ten year old who had gotten off the bus at the wrong stop and was casually making his way back home, despite his own serious homework deadlines and not telling his parents of his plans ahead of time). Father-of-Four commented on my clean car when you started telling them about all of the garbage I put in the back and front seat during my stealth mission to discard of the yard waste that the city hadn't picked up in a month.


Lately, when something is important to you, say, you don't want to share a recent garage-sale purchased truck with your sister, you say "It's for Easter!" emphatically. Other times, people and events will randomly bubble out. My brother just visited for Eight's first communion (!) and you wander around the house saying "Uncle Mike".

You call those windy slides at parks the "Tomato Slide" because you heard someone else call it the "Tornado Slide".

It now takes us nearly 45 minutes to get to the park that is just 4 blocks away. You refuse to ride in the Burly (to my great chagrin as I just got a new mountain bike with my BushII-economic-stimulus package), a wagon, a stroller, or even your own vehicle after a block or so. You get distracted by every dandelion, signpost, anthills in the sidewalk, bird, or blade of grass, and you whine until I carry you on my shoulders, which, has become increasingly difficult as you are as dense as a black hole.

You're really happy. Any tough spots or "tantrums" are really short-lived and usually solved with a little snack or sleep. And although I do like to get stuff done or just read a bit during your naps, I literally run up the stairs to get you when I hear you stirring from your nap.

Mothers Tag Missives

Overheard (already) in the BioMom-Baba-Eight-Big household:

This morning at 6 a.m. by our bedside whispering in my ear: Get up! Let's make Mom breakfast in bed! 'B.I.B.!"

My response: But Mom doesn't appreciate the B!

Her response: But I do!

My response: But you're not "I.B."!

Why isn't there a 'kids day'?

In getting Eight to get moving for her last day of Sunday School (BioMom enjoys going to church): I was thinking that I wouldn't have to rush today. . . That I could have a long breakfast. . . For Mother's day!

Why is it that every time I get you a present, you forget two minutes later and start bossing me around again?

I suppose I subconsciously, or even consciously downplay mother's day. As I've said before, we separate the two days, BioMom getting mother's day and I get father's day (or Baba's day as it is known around here). The kids and I have been giving BioMom a stepping stone with their chubby little hands imprinted on them while the cement was still setting, since 2002 or so, and we usually join with a neighbor or two and have a nice dinner.

But there's no real fanfare around the day in the sense that, I suspect, our Eight, with her penchant for the dramatic, would prefer.

I lost my mom when I was nine.

I certainly think of her today (as I do on most days, I suppose). And yes, I have, on occasion celebrated her more formally, a tree planted in her honor here, a bush or rock placed there.

But there is always this little pang in my heart as BioMom wraps presents for her mom and makes plans for lunch or a run to the Dairy Queen.

And hence the somewhat passive downplaying of the day.

They're at church now (BioMom and Eight). Big just woke up (9:15 a.m.!) and I'm thinking of turning the day around, turning up the fanfare.