Surrogacy and Adoption

I know it's been a LONG, LIKE SUPER DE DUPER LONG time since I've authored a post here.  I hope Frenchie can forgive me.  But tonight I have something on my mind and lately with how cutthroat Facebook has become, it doesn't seem the place for it.  I know we have a small but friendly and powerful audience here, but I also welcome, in fact REQUEST that if this blog post hits your heart, that you share it in any way possible: your blog, another mommy blog, tell a friend, etc.  Tim and I are at a junction where we are trying to decide if, when, and how to grow our family.  And I have been told that in situtations like this, even though one's first instinct might be to clam up and stay low until everything blows over, the exact opposite is what you should, or in fact NEED to do.  When looking for help growing your family in a non-traditional way, miracles are possible and at times more likely when more people hear your story.

Because of the heart trouble that happened when I gave birth to Tybalt, I have been HIGHLY discouraged from getting pregnant ever again.  Some womens' doctors (ob/gyns as well as cardiologists) differ in their opinion, but because of the severity of my post partum cardiomyopathy compared to some other cases, both of my doctors say no.  Or, in more clearer terms, "HELL NO."

This makes me sad.  It makes me depressed.  It makes me want to raise my arms to the heavens and say, "THANK YOU GOD FOR MY WONDERFUL AND HANDSOME MIRACLE BABY.  I LOVE HIM MORE THAN WORDS CAN EXPRESS,  AND I LOVE YOU FOR GIVING HIM TO ME.  DON'T GET ME WRONG THROUGHOUT ALL THIS--I HAVE FAITH, BELIEVE, AND AM VERY THANKFUL.  ALL THAT SAID...WTH?  YOU KNOW I DIDN'T WANT AN ONLY CHILD!  YOU KNOW MY HEART AND 'WOMB' ARE ACHING AND THAT I CRY DAILY!  I MAY ONLY BE ONE OF YOUR DAUGHTERS IN THIS WORLD OF BILLIONS, BUT PLEASE, REALLY, COULD YOU DO ME A 'SOLID' AND PUT ME UPWARDS ON THE LIST A BIT?  I SWEAR ONCE YOU GET ME A KID YOU CAN TAKE ME AND PUT ME RIGHT BACK DOWN WITH THE REST AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PRAYER LIST.  HELP ME HAVE ANOTHER CHILD!  PLEASE, I BEG!  SOMEHOW, SOMEWAY (THOUGH SAFELY FOR ME, SO NATURAL PREGNANCY IS PRETTY MUCH OUT, UNLESS YOU KNOW SOMETHING I DON'T.  I NEED THIS GOD, I REALLY, REALLY NEED THIS.  (And here's where I humbly admit that I'm a tiny bit pissed you haven't already just left one on my doorstep at this point, seeing I've been praying so long, and even when I'm not you're supposed to know the desires of my heart.  Right?)"

So, Tim and I are planning on either adopting or trying to use a surrogate.  I don't know much about the surrogacy process.  I'm wondering if any of you out there know anything.  Perhaps you've done it yourself or have a family member of friend who has?  And when I say "done it" that could mean being involved on either end--using a surrogate to have a baby, or even being a surrogate for a couple.  If this applies to you or someone you intimately know, could you possibly work on connecting us for an online conversation?  I have SO many questions about it.  My brain is just swimming.

As for adoption, it is obviously more widely practiced.  And I visit many blogs of adoptive mothers to read their stories and get a peek into their lives.  However, again, if one of you have been through adoption or know someone who has--either adopted or given a child "up" for adoption, I would really apprecaite the opportunity to connect with you/them online.  Most of the bloggers seem too busy to really talk.  Either that or they haven't really opened up for the chance to talk because they don't have contact information like an email address on their blogs, oddly enough.

Anyway, this post isn't meant to be a sob story.  If someone is waiting for that kind of post in order to help Romeo and I, I guarantee if they wait long enough it will come.  At this point, I'm really just kind of hoping that by putting this ponderance out into the universe and asking any of you readers who are willing to spread it further--as far as possible, that someone somewhere will see I am a loving and hopeful mother and woman, who is just fervently praying for the chance to have another child or two (twins!  why not?) and that they find it in their heart to help me in my next step.  Whatever that is!

I Should Be Bald

I swear that with all the stress lately, I should be completely, 100% bald.  So much, there's just so much.  Sorry for my much extended absence.  This is obviously Frenchie's blog now and I'm a guest writer occasionally.  But, lucky you, lucky lucky you, my goal for lent is to write twice a week here at least.  May be long, may be short.  But it should be good, at least for me, because I have things to get off my shoulders.  NOT that I want every entry to be heavy, you wonderful women don't deserve that.  (Though on the absolute worst days some might be more serious than joking.)  But part of this is writing as an escape.  Writing about random happenings and off-the-top of my head thoughts so that I can dull the volume of the rest of the world around me if only for 30-60 minutes.

Just a [not so] brief listing to give you an idea of that loud world around me:

• Tybalt is 2.5 and not talking yet.  We have started seeing a speech therapist and developmental specialists.  All say he is very smart, quick, and either on par or advanced in ever other aspect.  But speech is a problem that needs to be dealt with.  1) I worry about my little boy.  2) I feel like the worst mom in the world.  Only Frenchie and B, and our fellow best friends J&D (see "host" and "host's wife" in entries such as when Terror almost sets the house on fire) who are Tybalt's Godparents are aware of this.  A friend posted something on Facebook the other day that made me think:  She basically said, "Why is it when you child can't/won't do the one thing they should and every other kid around them their age and developmental level can, the biggest dose of mother guilt sets in and you feel like the worst mother ever?"  I know I love my son and give him practically every opportunity we can.  I know he's very smart in general.  So why the frick is he not speaking?  And why can't I shake the feeling that it is somehow my fault?

• My lawsuit against the medical facility we are claiming was allegedly negligent in my care, resulting in a Stage IV bedsore and permanent damage, is coming along.  (I don't actually know how much I can say.)  I don't know how much progress, that's like OZ behind the curtain, but I did my deposition last July and am waiting to probably be called in again, and Romeo and his mom were deposed this week.  I know that this blog is a member of a MILP line-up.  You are all probably thinking that depositions and trials (if no settlement is reached first, my tentative first day of court is in November) should be the least of my worries.  Well, what can I say?  I don't deal with any of this regularly on a daily basis.  And while I knew in deciding to pursue this case it would get difficult, as the plaintiff I had NO real, actual, serious idea of the nerves, the jump my heart makes from chest to stomach every time my lawyer's phone number appears on my caller ID with a new update or question.

• We are buying a house.  Fantastic!  Great!  It's about time!  And we got pre-approved for like $50 grand more than we want to spend because we know how we prefer to budget our money.  So that put us in a particular bracket of housing, that in Las Vegas, is low on inventory because cash investors are buying them all up.  Doesn't matter if a good, hard working family like ours will ever get to live in one.  The investors just want them for business.  So shopping and finding something we wanted was more rough than we thought it would be.  But we couldn't wait any longer.  Home prices in Las Vegas have gone up something like 20% since January 2012, and continue to rise.  That, plus the reduced inventory means you have to view houses in the morning and make bids by the afternoon.  We finally got a bid accepted.  We are OVERJOYED!  I should correct that--Romeo is.  I am oh, let's just say "cautiously optimistic "  For once, I sincerely want to be overjoyed!  I want to be throwing items in boxes willy nilly and doing my own silly version of some victory end-zone touchdown dance.  Finally, I will be living in a place that doesn't have an apartment, suite, or dorm number!  For me, a 28 year-old coming straight off of that, it is huge and a dream come true.  Even if it sounds odd or petty to anyone else.  Guess I should throw out an apology just in case.  We are currently in escrow.  I know very few close friends who have bought a house, so I don't know if it's urban legend or what, but I've heard of multiple cases where people enter escrow and then never close escrow and get the house.  If any of you readers know why, can you help?  My only gut feelings would be that these stories are before the big economical crash, so people were being pre-approved quickly for mortgages and entering escrow just to find out that the lender didn't approve them properly or at all and thus the money is not there.  Or, that the families never bothered going through the pre-approval process, started to shop for houses, found one they fell in love with, tried to secure approval on a mortgage then, and didn't qualify.  Am I right on any of these situations?  What are some other reasons escrows fail and never close?  Anybody know?  At least in our situation, none of that should be the case.  We have hit at least one major road block (keep reading) but we are completely pre-approved for our mortgage loan by a woman who has such a positive reputation in town that both realtors we have worked with have individually told us that in this day and age they don't take on "just any old clients. But if Mrs. _____ _______ has pre-approved you, you're good to go.  In my 20+ years (or 30+ years for realtor #1) she has never given me a couple/family pre-approved who wasn't good for it.  If she pre-approves you, you're gold to work with.  You are basically approved already."  This should all comfort me, right?  Yeah, hello Ms. Pessimistic  My Name is Juliet.  Welcome back, I hear you'll be checking in and staying for a while.

• On the house front--close of escrow was predicted by February 28th.  We are purchasing a foreclosed home which means Fannie Mae (Government) is the owner.  And they contract with a local Title Company to do their "bidding" here in town.  Well, after over a week with no updates from our realtor or our lender, we found out the title company was dragging their feet because they were hoping no one would find out a clerical mistake had occurred and the title was TECHNICALLY not in Fannie Mae's name yet.  Please cover the eyes and ears of any children nearby--WHAT THE FFFFFFFFFFFFF? You're selling us a home (you've been sending your own hired maintenance crew for raking and mowing, etc that I already met out there one day, so you think you own it as much as we do) but anyway  you're selling us a home, that TECHNICALLY you don't own yet?  Knock me unconscious people, just do it, I can't take the stress.  But at least that was supposed to be done by Monday the 11th.  Putting us only about 2 weeks behind and making a February 28 closing date (or at least real close to it) still completely possible.  Tuesday the 12th comes and our realtor (lovely man, seriously, but by now his Irish blood is boiling and I think he's resisting the urge to tip some cows, lol) still hasn't heard back and now must call and ream someone out to get an answer.  The answer?  They never could have had it resolved by the 11th, they were blowing smoke up his angry butt to get him off their backs.  Apparently there is a trash lien on the house.  Yes, either the former owner, or Fannie Mae as they have been tending it, hasn't paid so many trash fees that the City WILL NOT release the title to Fannie Mae until it is paid in full.  More government interference, which means more time.  Which means forget getting out of here and moving by Feb/March.

• Two Huge Fears on top of all these others: First) if this trash lien has been out there for so long and the Title Company dropped the ball in paying it to clear the title and get it fair and square in Fannie Mae's name in order to sell this house (which has been on market since mid 2012--quite long for this Las Vegas Market)  and has just been sitting back playing computer games all day and hoping no one got the wiser, what else have they screwed up on, overlooked, etc., and are just waiting to see that they can't cover their own asses over anymore?  How many more things will arise? Secondly) What was their ultimate plan?  They couldn't keep quiet regarding a trash lien (or anything else that might come up, AND PLEASE I BEG YOU ALL TO PRAY NOTHING ELSE DOES) forever.  Like I said, the house is a foreclosure   It is the Title Company's job to be Fannie Mae's local eyes and ears.  And if it wasn't us showing interest, putting down earnest money, getting our offer accepted, and signing a contract, it would have been some other family a week or two later.  Did they really think things such as this would never get discovered?  Come on now, it just doesn't even make sense.

• Oh, and on top of that, seeing we have to be in our apartment longer, the management is charging us $400 extra for March and then prorated based on that exorbitant rate for April 1-14.  But we signed a 60 day notice, so as far as getting through escrow without anymore bumps, bruises, and scrapes, and for hopefully convincing the apartment management to stop trying to milk an already dry cow (the extra money is just not there) prayers, chants, meditations and crossed fingers--WOULD ALL BE GREATLY HELPFUL LADIES!  Thanks.

• And my relocating parents, Lady C and Lord C?  They spent 4 days here in sunny, chilly, but definitely not frigid (70 here compared to 10 degrees when boarding in Chi-town) to look at apartments two weeks ago.  After Las Vegas they were on to Salt Lake City, which is 45 minutes from my sister and brother-in-law.  My gut had been saying they were going to choose UT.  I was actually fine with it.  A little sting feeling like it meant choosing her over me, but I forced past that juvenile thinking.  And focused on how UT means more family time, more bonding time for them and Tybalt, yet no doorbell rings and *poof!* there they are on my front stoop, no "The car broke down, can you come jump me 45 minutes away?" no "What do you MEAN you're spending this Sunday with Romeo's mom.  We want you here!"  Well, guess what, they are now apparently 99.9% sure they have chosen Las Vegas.  That unreliable gut of mine.

Sigh, its 3:41, and you know me, re-reading and editing my own work will take me until 4am. *Note, yep, it's 5:19am now, oh how off I was on that one, lol.*

Oh, one thing I forgot is an answer to my anniversary conundrum back in October.  Our solution is in the final comment I left.  Not bad, but still room for improvement, which I feel should be the soundtrack to my life right now.  Hmm, I wonder who I'd get to sing it--I do like Kelly Clarkson. ;)

• Oh, and Harold, F-I-L, returns for three months either February 27 or March 6.  "Insert haunting "Law and Order Theme Hear."  And I'm done.

Anniversaries?

I've got a topic/question/situation/issue that I'm looking for feedback on: What do you ladies and your husbands or significant others do for your anniversary each year?
I'm wondering if for most people anniversaries are not really huge deals. If in fact I'm the crazy one making more of a deal out of it, or WANTING to make more of a deal out of it, than I should, or rather if most people do truly quite a bit for their wedding anniversary and my husband needs a slap upside the head for being so casual.
I was going to spell out what I wanted to do this year, vs. my husband's desires, vs. what we plan to do as a compromise now. Instead, I'd like to hear from you ladies first as to what you typically do, and if those plans, gifts, etc., are your first choice or usually a compromise because you and your man's opinions differ (heck, maybe for some of you, HE'S the one who thinks bigger than you do). Then after some responses I'll fill you in on Romeo and my current situation.
FYI: It's the middle of the night, but technically Monday, and our anniversary is Wednesday, so the more dialogue the faster, the better, in case he does deserve the dog house and I deserve a change of plans in time. (Or perhaps vice versa, like I said, it is possible I'm the extreme one.) But no matter when you gals have time to respond, even after the "big" [?] day, I'd still appreciate it all for future reference.
Thanks!

What Do I Actually Want?

***Yeah, this is really, really, long, and I apologize.  I don't know what happened.  Read it in more than one sitting if you must, but I do think it hits on some primal, yet unspoken thoughts we all have when it comes to our parents, no matter what our age and situation.  Or, of course, maybe it's just me.  :)  Oh, and it's almost 6am and I haven't slept yet, so sentence structure and grammar?  Yeah, not really happening.  Bonus points for every word you find that isn't really an actual word, but just something I made up that sounds passable.  See?  That right there.***

Here's what's up:  I found out today that my mother lost her job.  I've glanced through all my posts and realize I haven't written a lot about my parents.  A ton about my MIL and FIL, but not my own folks.  This also means I haven't nicknamed them yet, and first initials won't do, because my dad shares his first initial with someone we already write about.  Um, gosh, why did I save trying to be creative and coming up with blog nicknames for my own parents at 5am?  Think, Juliet, think.  Oh, okay, let's go "Lord C" and Lady C," for you know, Lord and Lady Capulet from the play.

So, Lady C lost her job.  Details are fuzzy, as in non-existent.  I missed her teary voice mail on my cell by literally 10 minutes, and by the time I called back, she wasn't picking up.  We have been playing phone tag the entire evening.  What I do know is that I'm shocked but not surprised, and yes, before you pause too long wondering, it is entirely possible to be shocked yet not surprised.  I am not surprised because she has been worried and talking about fear over losing her job for probably 2 years now due to the fact that the company replaced her direct boss (she's an administrative assistant) and he didn't like her as much as the previous person did.  Not being there first hand I have never known whether this was just my mother being a worrywart like me (hey, you wondered where I got it?)  or whether there was due cause for her concern.  Thus, my lack of surprise, however I was shocked by the actual news, because while I've heard her worry for years, nothing ever happened nor were there any warning signs that something might.

What makes matters worse than "simply" being laid off in an economy where jobs are still scarce, the fact that Lady C doesn't have a college degree (she worked for the company 16+ years and climbed the ladder from receptionist to her final position as admin assistant to the office manager), and that companies seem to want young doe-eyed 20 somethings they can pay minimum wage and no benefits, is the fact that my mother was the bread winner (and source of health insurance benefits) in my parents' household.  My dad, Lord C, lost his full-time job at least 3 years ago.  He's been working from home selling health insurance, but it doesn't have benefits, and while he's tight-lipped, I know he's struggling finding clients and making a living because a year ago he picked up a part-time job at Bath and Body Works, and a few weeks ago a second part-time job as a gas station attendant.  (For those of you playing along at home, that's 3 jobs total.)  Not exactly how I pictured my 63 year-old father, who used to make $60,000+ a year as a top department store salesman, living out what should be his last working decade.

Oh boy, this post is way too long, and I haven't even gotten to the real actual reason for writing tonight.  Let me cut to the chase-- if that's even possible at this point.  I miss my parents like crazy.  I moved to Las Vegas 6 years ago, straight out of college, not really knowing what would happen, how long I'd be here, etc, etc, etc.  But I do acknowledge it was completely my choice to move 1,735 miles-- the exact distance from my front door to theirs.  What I didn't plan on was falling in love, getting married, and having a child 1,735 miles away from them.  And it's hard.  Hard as hell.  My son only knows Grandma MIL and Grandpa FIL.  I want him to know Grandma C and Grandpa C.  Romeo has tried to comfort me by saying that as a kid he had one set of local grandparents and one set of long-distance ones.  And while yes, he was closer emotionally to the local set, he doesn't have super, amazing, one-of-a-kind memories of them.  Those memories are reserved for his long-distance grandparents.  The fact that those visits were fewer and far between makes the memories sweeter.  I appreciate the sentiment, but frankly, I think it's a load of crap.  I want my parents here.  I've wanted them here since I was pregnant.  And not just for Tybalt's sake.  I want them to know him as well.  I also am sick and tired of everything from holidays and special occasions to everyday excursions to the park or the mall being only with Romeo's mom.  I want my own Mom (and Dad).  I miss them.  I want Christmases with them that don't require trying to budget $2,000 for airline tickets, hotels, rental car, etc.  I want my parents to just drive to our place for a dinner every once in a while, and us to them.  I want them to get the chance to babysit Tybalt instead of that right and privilege only belonging to Romeo's mom.

And the thought of my parents moving "out west" from Chicago has never been absurd.  My sister and her husband live in Provo, UT.  Which, while it's a lengthy drive, is, in all honesty a very do-able trip for a long weekend.  However, while my mom was the breadwinner, and in this position, as I've [too lengthily] tried to describe and show is not just a normal title and job she could transfer to, let's say, the Las Vegas branch of the national company she works for, a move while not absurd, was not practical.  Or, more straightforward, pretty much impossible.  While my dad could do his "things" anywhere, my mother definitely could not.  I've begged, I've told her to start applying online for administrative assistant positions in any company, any field, anywhere in the west closer to my sister and me.  I've always pushed for Las Vegas, because I selfishly want them with me and their grandson, not my sister in Utah, but still, anywhere out west where they are a drive away would be fine.  But my parents' response has always been that they wish it could happen, but like I said, while my Dad is flexible, my mom couldn't leave her steady job without another job lined up, and even doing that, she wouldn't be making nearly as much by starting over at some new company that doesn't know her.  And while it's painful, I've accepted that.  But when I got the voice mail this afternoon, I couldn't help but actually feel HAPPY.  I should feel horrible and upset for the injustice my mother is feeling.  And yeah, I do.  I should be worried about my parents--my father has heart problems and my mother has arthritis, knee, and lower back problems-- and now they just lost their health insurance.  And again, yeah, I do.  Yet I also feel like this is IT.  This is the time for them to pick up everything and just move out here...NOW.  Don't scramble to find a job, Mom, and then use that one as an excuse to stay in Chicago still.  In one of her voice mails today as we played our incessant phone tag, my mother said they are in fact talking about taking the opportunity, yet at the same time, "this probably isn't the time to make rash decisions."  And I want to say, "Why not?  Now is actually the perfect time to make a rash decision."  Romeo has already told me not to get my hopes up.  Moving is expensive enough.  Imagine trying to move now that you have only the balance in your checking account to live off of.  And I get that.  I get that it seems impossible financially.  But I'm so scared that if they don't scrape the money together and do it now, they'll get tied into Illinois again, and they never will.

Here's the last thing though for tonight.  I cry myself to sleep sometimes over how much I miss my parents.  I hug Tybalt tight sometimes and cry into his shoulder that my parents aren't around to see his milestones and witness his amazing personality.  But does that truly, honestly, mean, that if and when my parents got here, I wouldn't regret them being here?  I want them here on my terms, and that's just not possible.  They'd be here on their terms.  I said somewhere up above here that I wish they lived so close they could drive to our place, or us to theirs, for dinners every once in a while.  But that's the key right there--"every once in a while."  If they are here, they are HERE.  Do I want the pressure of being expected to see them whenever they want to see me?  Do I want my parents, who arise even on their days off no later than 6am, to find out that I sleep until 1pm on the weekend when Romeo can wake up with Tybalt instead of me?  And how would I deal with the jealousy (I can see all three of their skin turning green now) when MIL, who has never had to share Tybalt in her life, now has to share with my parents?  And my parents who will want to see him every possible chance, seeing they didn't get to before, realizing they must still in fact share with MIL?

So, do I push as hard as I can and tell them exactly why they should move this instant and come out here?  Or should I resist the urge and just stand back, with my hands clean, and see what happens by fate, and by their own decisions, without a word (or much of a word) from me?  (I mean at the very, very least I would think that I need to state once again that I would welcome them here.  No?)

There is an infamous "joke" that really truly happened when I was hospitalized and only semi-conscious two years ago.  I've only been told what happened because I was so drugged that I have no memory, so I'm paraphrasing the following dialogue, and for the sake of the story you should also know that Henderson, NV is a bustling town with jobs and shopping and basically all Las Vegas has, as it's suburb, and is only about 20 minutes away from our current apartment, whereas Bullhead City, AZ, is just across the state border, with no real economy or job opportunities (let alone a mall, so who'd want to live there anyway!  lol) but about 90 minutes to 2 hours away:  My mother was at my bedside, along with Romeo.  (It was her first visit, when I was touch and go still in the ICU.  And I couldn't talk because I had already been given a tracheotomy.)  She was crying I guess and holding my hand and saying, "Daddy and I need to move out here.  We can't keep living this far away from you, 'Juliet.'"  And apparently even in my stupor I nodded and smiled and even teared up.  So she said "How would you like that, if Daddy and I moved here, huh?  Wouldn't that be good?"  And again there was more emphatic nodding and smiling on my part.  Then she said, "What about Henderson?  That would be a good choice."  At which point, I stopped smiling and shook my head 'no' violently!  Luckily my mother laughed and replied, "Too close, huh?"  And Romeo chimed in saying, "What about Bullhead City?"  To which I apparently went back to nodding fiercely and smiling widely, and the whole room busted a gut laughing so hard.

So perhaps, while I fantasize about a Norman Rockwell situation with my loving parents right here, I should take a clue from my no-holds barred, tell it like it is because the drugs are like truth-serum, semi-conscious mental state...20 minutes away?  Hell no, but feel free to move about 2 hours away so you have to call first before just dropping by for dinner...

The Crafting Bug

I have found a new craft I want to start making! This is big news because I love using my hands, but I'm not an artist nor great at all things naturally like our Frenchie, so while I like the look of many crafts, I rarely come across one I feel confident I could make and make well. And I found this and just fell in love.

What's even better is that I have not seen anyone sell them at the craft fairs in Vegas. So seeing it's not already out in the local fair and bazaar scene, I'd have a corner on the market of these. For once, I'd be doing something original! Woohoo! Usually I just follow the trends. (Okay, I got the idea from Pinterest, so not completely original, but something new to Vegas and the small community of dedicated crafters here.)

Anyway, my adrenaline is pumping. Hence the blog post at 3:30am!

Only issue-- can any crafters out there-- Frenchie I'm looking right at you, lol, but also any of our readers-- look at the pictures I've included and tell me: How would you attach the ribbon used for hanging? The "trays" are noted in the very basic description as being "fake silver" from the dollar store, so I am assuming that could mean either plastic or tin. I'm also seriously considering thrift store and garage sale shopping for better metal trays (though probably not real silver; depends on what bargains I can find). How would you attach ribbon to either material? If it was tin, I'd be prone to say a metal punch and put a grommet in and thread ribbon through, but there are no "holes" in the photos, so that's obviously not what the original crafter did. What do you think?

(Note: Picture is courtesy of more than one Pinterest.com board, and they credit "signaturestyleblog.com," but she credits back to Pinterest and no one person's specific account, so I don't have the copyright nor know the exact citation.)

Prude?

I didn't post about this immediately, because I've been taking a while to really think about it. I finally decided I'll leave it up to you readers to help me decide. It's not like some big momentous life decision or something, I just need to know if I'm sane or crazy.

It was somewhere between 90 and 100 degrees here in Las Vegas yesterday, so Romeo and I decided to take Tybalt out to the apartment pool for the first time of the season. During last year's pool season, as a 9-month to a 1-year old, we used a large flotation device that had leg holes and a fabric canopy on top and Tybalt would just float and kick and splash in the pool in that. This year, in an attempt to transition to the next "step" we bought him a suit that has flotation pads built into it-- kind of like a life jacket with trunks attached. Anyway, we wanted to see how it works and if it's going to provide enough support or if he still needs his large floating "cabana" this year. (By the way, the answer is no, the suit isn't enough and it looks like yes, we will have to rely on the big float for another year.)

Anyway, sorry, I got distracted. None of the above is the point at all. It was the long way of saying that we took Tybalt to the pool yesterday.

When we got to the pool at about 12noon, there were a handful of other people. It wasn't packed, but it's one of two pools at our apartment complex, and is the larger and more popular one. There were two young-ish ladies chatting and sunning, two older middle-aged women sunning privately, and one other young boy and "his adults." I say "his adults" because I couldn't tell what relation they were to him. I'm guessing one was his father. The other could have been an uncle, the father's friend, or for all I know the boy has two dads. Anyway, this boy and one of the men, let's say "dad" for the sake of this already long and complicated post, were the only other people in the pool besides Romeo, Tybalt, and I. We were at opposite corners of the pool. ("Man #2" was near them but sunning and not in the water.) And all the aforementioned female sunbathers were scattered around. *Just trying to set up the scene for you, folks.*

Now, when we got there, it appeared the other little boy and the gentlemen had just arrived a few minutes earlier, as "dad" was just jumping in and the boy was testing the water. He must have been 3 or 4 years old. Hard to tell because he was small, but he was using complete sentences. And as we arrived I noticed he was wearing inflatable arm floaties and swim trunks. In the 5 to 10 minutes however that it took us to get ourselves situated: claiming a table for our towels, sunscreen, Romeo getting in the pool, and me passing Tybalt over to his care, etc, I looked over and saw that the little boy was no longer wearing his swim trunks! "Dad" and the other gentleman were allowing him to wander around, as well as swim, buck naked, with nothing but his arm floaties on! Romeo doesn't wear his glasses while swimming, so he didn't see it, and I couldn't successfully whisper to him in front of everyone. But to me, sitting on the side of the pool, glasses on, fully aware, it was completely obvious that this kid was naked and his little boy body parts were on full display for the entire apartment complex to see! Okay, in all honesty the entire complex of people were not there, obviously, but you get what I mean. Why would they let their chid do this? Our family of three stayed for about 20 minutes and he was still "streaking" when we left. I mean he was walking back and forth between Man #2's lounge chair and to "dad" in the pool, he would get in the pool with "dad" for a minute, and back out, and climb up onto and lie on a lounge chair next to Man #2. All repeatedly. All nude. It's not like I was trying to stare. It grosses me out to think anyone would, plus my Tybalt was adorable playing in the water with Romeo and my attention was focused there. But at the same time it was like a wreck you can't look away from. And yes, I glanced over a few times, mainly to see if this was real. "Were the men in charge of his care seriously comfortable with this? Or had the kid stripped down out of rebellion, and once they noticed surely they would be embarrassed and re-dress him," I thought to myself. But nope, like I said, at least 20 minutes, and we left first.

So, blogosphere-- am I a prude or am I correct that this behavior is really odd and wrong? I know some toddlers hit a stage where they strip out of rebellion and/or curiosity with their bodies. But I think most parents would re-cover their child. Add to the fact that this child seemed older than a young toddler who might do that. Not paying much attention to them when we arrived, I also don't know why the trunks came off to begin with. Choice? Or did the child have an "accident?" If that was the case wouldn't you take your child back to your apartment as quickly as possible to clean up? So I'm doubting that scenario. I do imagine that some parents let their kids go nude in their own backyard private pool, or maybe it's different in other countries and other cultures. (The boy and both men were very dark olive skinned and dark haired, and Las Vegas is known for being multi-cultural.) But still, this is not your own private pool, and this is not, let's just say, a European beachfront. Beyond that, as I alluded to earlier, I didn't want to look because it makes me feel creepy to even have seen it to begin with. I don't want to get graphic here, but what if all the other pool goers hadn't been 2 young women in their twenties and 2 grandmotherly old ladies? What if they let their son do this in front of a pedophile? I'm not saying we have one living here, but you can never be too sure who your neighbor's are in this society. Why would you even risk who might be at the pool (or the beach, or anywhere else) and let your child go naked?

So, what do you suppose the situation was? And what is your take on it? Am I prude or not? Verdict?

What To Do?

Two posts from Juliet in one day? What???? Yeah, I know. But there's stuff on my mind.

In this case, the "stuff" is what to do about that toxic friend/non-friend I wrote about recently. See, I took Frenchie's advice and feel passive aggressive is my best option right now at least for keeping my sanity and for making as few tidal waves in the friend circle we both run in as possible.

However, passive aggressive can work well like on facebook, but I am going to a party this Saturday night that "YY", let's call her that because I failed to give her a name before, will more than likely be at. After all, it's hosted by Tybalt's Godparents, who are friends with both of us.

Assuming she's there, what do I do? I've seen her before, obviously, while times have been tough between us, but I've been in a better state emotionally. And with my fragile (read: depressed) mental state right now about everything else, I just don't feel like I have the same "grin and bear it" resolve that I have been able to muster up before.

I WILL NOT start a "thing" (a fight, an issue, a scene, whatever you want to call it). I'm not that kind of person. I not only have far too much respect for those around me, but what I hope I also got across in my last post about YY is that I'm not the one that's ever started any of the stuff between the two of us! However, if she is snippy to me, I am more afraid of the fact that I might lose it and either cry and/or have a panic attack where I start sweating and shaking and hyperventilating. Her online and text comments and rants have caused me in the past to do both. And I definitely cannot do either Saturday night. I cannot break down in front of everyone and cause a scene.

So, what to do? How to handle the situation? I need moral support.