Archive | December, 2012

Year in Review: LD 2012

saintnicktreeThe year 2012 in a single run-on sentence: Work, work, work, meet some great people, accomplish some things I’m really proud of, learn a lot along the way; have a little bit of family life but not nearly enough, though for the first time, pay for enrichment classes and summer camp and vacation without going into debt; have hardly any writing life a’tall; get sacked; be flabberghasted in a way fresh to me in umptity-ump years of employed life; lick wounds, and in the yawning space that opens up before me, contemplate fresh possibilities and look again, longer and harder, at old neglected ones; turn 50 (Jubilee!) and, with much struggle, commence the process of giving myself the priceless gift of unshakeable self-esteem, because while others can abet or thwart this, it is at its core something one can only really give oneself. A truth yet to be sufficiently well-lodged, at 50. Never too late.

Gift of loving family: there all along and, in the final quarter of 2012, mercifully back in all three dimensions. Not giving that up again, or even setting it aside,  for the world.

Or, the year 2012 in ten LD posts:

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Christmas Lullaby

“Christmas Lullaby,” by Jason Robert Brown, performed by Mrs. Dad, eavesdropped after dinner early December 2010, our first Christmas in our newly established home. [Ed note: Once you start the video, double-clicking the image expands it to full screen, a decidedly mixed blessing since then you get more jostled by my improv’ed lo-tech iPhone cinematography.]

I re-posted this a year ago, and that was a repost from the year before. Still sweet, still–with the exception of the diapers on the boy–true.  Love to all who read and listen here.

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Thought that counts

keepcalm-2
Worthwhile placebo, Berkeley, CA.

 

I posted this self-same picture almost a year ago, soon after I took it. His knee is bigger now, and he no longer fits those shoes. But he still believes kisses and Band-Aids contain some kind of inherent analgesic power, and until that belief is shaken, I’m not contradicting it. Though if I were to amend the WWII-era British admonition, I’d say, “Keep heart as open as can be, always leave the door open to hope and magic, and then do your best to carry on. Taking comfort in the knowledge that others are treading similar paths somewhere in the world, and that love, no matter what the plot of the story, is always its last word.”

 

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Greetings, Babble folk

Greetings folk coming to visit from Babble, and thank you Babble editors for naming this blog one of this year’s Top 50 Dad Blogs!

I  consider many of the other bloggers on that list friends and colleagues, and am honored to be recognized alongside them. Together I think this generation of writer dads, blogging their parenthood daily, is blowing the lid off the whole “fatherhood” thing. That’s going to be nothing but good news for both my kids, daughter and son.

If you’re new to this blog, here’s a primer: I’ve been writing it since 2006; my kids call me “Baba,” which is a diminutive or straight-up name for “father” in a ton of languages. I identify most comfortably as a parent (the elbow room!), less so as a mom, more so as a dad, socially at least. Legally speaking, only small bits and pieces of me are recognized a’tall. My partner gave birth to both our kids (a son now 5, a daughter now 8), and our donor chum is the ex-husband of one of my oldest friends. Our kids know him as family and, along with his own kids, know that he helped us be able to have them. He is their “special uncle,” his kids are their “special cousins.” Socially, it makes complete sense to us all.

A whistle-stop tour of useful posts, lesbian fatherhood-wise:

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