The near birthday fiasco…

I’d say it started yesterday but it really started just over a month ago when my ex-husband had his birthday. Ever since we separated he’s insisted he wants no birthday celebration at all. No calls… no cards… no presents. He doesn’t want to remember he’s ageing, leave him alone. Then, after the date, he’s mad because no one remembered his birthday. General cognition and cause and effect are not his strong suits.

This time he decided to get back at Emma for not calling. Never mind Emma never calls anyone. Never mind she’s having problems with her phone. Never mind she doesn’t keep track of dates. He was mad and he was retaliating. So he called Kait and told her he was going to deliberately misgender “Colin” in a birthday Facebook wish to get back at her. A) because that’s what loving and kind Fathers do and B) because there was no way posting his ignorance on Facebook could blow back at him…

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Emma knew just what to say

The first thing that confused James was absolutely no one wanted to here his side on why he’s misgendering his own child. So he explained anyway…

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Then my friend Robin told him to step on a Lego and he literally took that to be a death threat…

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And my friend ran with the Lego death threat. Because we all know how deadly a block of lego is when you step on it…

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It’s funny in some ways but this is a grown man, Emma’s father, on her Facebook page the night before her birthday. And here is when he really started showing his true colours. First by using gay as an insult, then his above comment about not supporting “lgbt crap”, and finally by deciding Robin must be trans and referring to her as “it” and that “trans freak”. Along with this…

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Kait finally had enough of him, after being on the brink for months, and blocked him…

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… and her post whooshed right over his head

Then it just got plain pathetic…

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My ex and I talked a lot about being parents, when we were young and engaged, and how we wanted to raise our kids. He wanted to be a hands on Dad, something he hadn’t much experience with (as much as he loved his father). It’s like he set out to do the exact opposite.

I almost never mention my ex-husband on the blog and this thread is exactly why. He’s a living train wreck of a man, a person who lives solely to tear down other people.

Today is Emma’s birthday. She played Undertale before school while I watched then we went out for dinner with her Nana (mmm… potato curry), and now she’s heading out to Value Village to look for computer parts and/or a phone… as happy as can be. Then she’s having birthday pudding, since she decided it was too hot for cake. There was no mention of her Dad, he’s a non-existent part of her life and, sadly, that’s how it should be with him.

Emma and her new purse

Emma with her new purse and sucker

Facebook memes…

I was on the bus this morning, scrolling through Facebook, when I saw a meme… one of those “Like and share if you love your son with all your heart” images. My first thought was ‘it would be nice to have a meme to share for Jeremy’, my second was ‘I could make one’, and my third was ‘with all my heart?’ Zie takes up a lot of space but I’ve got another kid and cats and chocolate too. I decided to make at least one meme when I got home and some chocolate pudding.

I was on my way home this afternoon, once again scrolling through Facebook, and I saw a post asking if anyone had seen any gender neutral kid memes. I wasn’t alone… for the meme at least and probably not for the leaving space in my heart for chocolate either.

I’ve made two memes, one for non-binary kids and one for gender creative kids and stuck them on my Facebook page. Now everyone can join in on the meme sharing craze 🙂 Also, if you have a kidlet that’s being missed by the meme’s let me know and I’ll see what me and my decade old scrapbooking program can do.

Life with Jeremy (second edition)…

I just got a notification on my phone, a finger with a string around it. I don’t know how to make notifications so it wasn’t from me. It was a reminder that I am weird, complete with an option to be reminded of this tomorrow.

“Jeremy?” I called as I walked into the living room. “Did you just send me a notification?”

Zie slid my headphones off zir ears and looked up. “My phone’s not even on. How could I send you a message?” Zir tone was artfully innocent. And really? Zie’d been playing with zir phone, asking Google endless questions, not ten minutes earlier.

“Well I got a notification saying I’m weird and I didn’t send it.”

Jeremy’s lips curved into a smile. “Are you saying it’s wrong?”

Well no. I just shook my head and walked away, leaving zir laughing. I did, however, click no for tomorrow’s helpful reminder.

I never know what to expect with zir. Jeremy woke up crying yesterday morning and was in tears when I got home from work. Zie was laughing and cheerful last night, thrilled to be cleaning and rearranging zir room in preparation for this weekend’s painting. Jeremy didn’t sleep at all last night, which means today should be interesting. Zie has counseling this morning, a visit with zir Dad this afternoon, and a doctor’s appointment this evening. I’m planning on buying a few chocolate bars and throwing them at zir from a safe distance when zie gets growly.

I am getting glimpses of my rainbow. Jeremy’s dug out zir feminine shirts and is wearing them again, including to a family visit this weekend. Zie’s kept zir toenails polished and is back using perfume. And zir sassy attitude is back.

“There you go Angel,” Jeremy crooned. Zie placed the cat onto my bed and tucked a fuzzy blanket around her. “All nice and comfy.”

I’d just stopped zir from putting Blackie, and then Oreo, into my underwear drawer. Angel likes perching in there but the other two cats don’t. Plus all three cats are overweight and could use some exercise.

“If she wanted to go there, she would have walked there on her own.”

“Does it look like she doesn’t want to be there?” zie pointed out. Angel closed her eyes and purred a bit louder. Thanks cat.

“You seem to forget the cats have four perfectly good legs to walk themselves around with.”

To which Jeremy promptly replied, “Well you seem to forget that I have two perfectly good arms to carry them places.”

Then I posted it on Facebook. My friends promptly sided with Jeremy. Thanks friends (and I honestly mean that).

How to make my block list…

… aka why school based sexual education for children is so important.

These comments happened in the middle of a discussion about Ontario’s new sexual education curriculum, during which poster #1 and #2 argued they could teach their children just fine at home, thanks. They’d have no problems teaching their children about “the birds and the bees” and could handle their questions without any outside assistance.

Meanwhile I, as usual, referred to Jeremy as my teen and used zie/zir pronouns…

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Then came a specific question about what you would say if your eight year old child asked a pointed question like “what’s a blow job?”

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Because answering questions honestly is “abuse”

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Conventional families… what are those again?

I pointed out that she’d have a great deal of difficulty teaching her children about the LGBTQ community considering the ignorance she’d shown regarding trans issues.

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transphobic4Between these posts were ones where Poster #1 claimed Jeremy would always be a male because of genitals, continually and intentionally misgendered zir repeatedly, and flat out stated she did not want her children to learn anything at all about the LGBTQ community. To make it more interesting, before I blocked her, she admitted she’d never even met Jeremy.

I commented in the thread that she was the perfect example for why mandatory school sexual education was needed and I stand by that statement. Luckily, and even more weirdly, it turns out that her children are nowhere near elementary school age. I figured she had preteens considering her 8 to 12 year old comment but her children are university age. Hopefully they’ve grown up to be less ignorant than their mother.

Ignorance is not a family value

What defines a woman?

An open letter to women and a rebuttal to Emilee Danielson

Emilee, your story is simply one single thread in a tapestry of women. It is not the whole cloth. Living for almost 50 years does not give you a magical ability to tell other women they’re wrong about themselves; all it does is allow you to identify yourself.

We are women from the moment we first heard the word girl and felt it click inside us… whether the word was aimed at us or not. We are a women from the moment we looked into a mirror and recognized the girl within… whether we could see her face or not.

A woman isn’t defined by breasts. You’re a woman whether you’re flat or have breasts that go on for days. Neither is it defined by the ability to carry an infant to term. It most certainly isn’t defined by being a martyr.

Being a woman isn’t defined by horrendous cramps or your ability to fake it through them. It isn’t defined by the size of the baby or the amount of medication you received. You’re still a woman and a mother if you adopted your child or if your partner gave birth. You’re still a woman if you’re child-free.

Emilee, you are a privileged woman in the United States. Unlike friends of mine, you have never been chased down dark streets by strangers while having slurs shouted at you simply for daring to be yourself. You have never had store clerks look you in the eye and misgender you repeatedly and on purpose because they don’t like that you exist. You have never looked at yourself in the mirror and wished you were dead when faced with the stranger staring back. You have children but you don’t have my child. You don’t stand beside your child and have strangers stare… turning so they can continue to stare as you walk past. You worry about strange men on the side of the road while being blissfully unaware of the dangers that trans women face every single day. Unaware that their risks of violence and death from strange men are staggeringly higher than yours.

No, Emilee there is more to being a woman than you could ever experience or even imagine. I find your claim to know and speak of womanhood on behalf of us all to be insulting. A real woman is defined, not by beauty or dirt under her nails, but by herself.

Ms Jenner is a woman, I am a woman, and you are a woman. Tapestries are nothing if every thread is identical. We need our differences in order to make life vibrant.

The people we leave behind…

Meme from the blog early mama

Sometimes I wonder if they think I’m blind; if they think I don’t notice their absence on Facebook… the empty space in my like and comment sections. Sometimes I wonder if they even see my posts or if they’ve quietly unfollowed me. They’re there… but at the same time they aren’t.

I grew up in a wide spread family. My grandparents lived four hours away by car. My great-grandmother four hours away by plane. The rest were scattered across the country (and now the globe). When we all got together, we were a close-knit group and our visits were full of laughter and hugs. While we were apart I was assured our family was always together in spirit.

Our last big family reunion was almost a decade ago; combining both a wedding and a memorial service. It was nearly two weeks of family bliss. Everywhere we turned there was family. We took up huge tables at restaurants and booked half a motel. I loved introducing Emma and Jeremy to cousins, uncles and aunts… showing them the family they belonged to. We went to the town my mother, grandparents, and several great-grandparents were born and spent a glorious afternoon on a nearby island, simply sharing time together. I collected several chunks of sea-worn beach rocks from there, along with shells and driftwood, that I’ve kept on my fireplace mantle ever since; a visible reminder of family and our time together.

Newcastle beach

The first one to disappear off my statuses and updates was my sister Amy. We’ve never had a close, sisterly relationship. Our relationship could be described as tumultuous at best; when we meet, we tend to clash. The closest we’ve ever gotten is online. Then this thread happened last year, when I shared an article on Facebook discussing gender neutral washrooms in Vancouver BC.

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Click to embiggen. If Amy ever wonders why Jeremy’s not all that fond of her, this is the reason. Zie’s rarely on Facebook but did read this whole thread.

Amy hasn’t commented on a single post or picture since then. Birthdays, the death of two pets, Christmas, etc… all passed without a single like or comment from her. She also has yet to respond to my private message regarding Jeremy being trans.

Then came my big post, at Jeremy’s request, outing zir to our family and friends. The support we received was overwhelmingly positive and almost completely from friends. The solitary family member who responded on that post was my cousin’s uncle. And since then there’s been silence. The only family who likes and comments on my posts are Karen, her husband, and my Mom. To be fair, most of my relatives rarely go on Facebook but the ones who do make their absence felt. And it hurts. Ironically, I don’t think it’s because Jeremy’s trans. It’s because this should be private and I was uncouth enough to make it public. I’m being ignored because I’m socially inappropriate.

What they don’t seem to get is I’m not doing this for them. I’m not doing this for me either. I’m doing this for Jeremy, who is still floundering and still needs my emphatic and visible support. Jeremy still tries zir hardest not to think about gender or sexual orientation. Zie still isn’t sure what zie likes to wear (other than loose and comfortable). I don’t talk to Jeremy about sexual orientation at all as it’s a sure fire way to start a furious and hysterical argument on zir part because zie’s straight damn it! Even though zie tries zir hardest not to think about guys. Even though zir first reaction when they killed off the 9th Doctor in Doctor Who was “why did they have to kill the cute one?”. Even though when zie handed me the brochure that came with my camera, zir comment was “you should like this, it’s full of landscapes and cute guys”. I flipped through to discover the people pictures were split 50/50 with males and females; apparently zie never noticed. Even though zie stares at zirself in the mirror and wonders why zie looks so good in women’s clothing… before taking it off and pulling on an old t-shirt and baggy shorts.

I want Jeremy to be comfortable at home. I want zir to know this is a safe place… that I’m not only 100% behind zir but willing to step out and be in front of zir too, in the times zie’s too scared to walk alone. When zie briefly pondered wearing a dress outside, I assured zir that I’m like a pitbull, small and usually cuddly, but willing to cling on and rip out someone’s throat if zie’s threatened. Zie laughed. I wasn’t kidding.

“Mom! Guess what?”

Jeremy ran into my room, zir smile as wide as the sky and just as sunshiny.

“If I spend $6, I can subscribe to Cool Dude! I can go into his exclusive Steam group and play on Gary’s Mod with him. Oh and he’s gay.” I hadn’t thought Jeremy’s smile could get any wider, yet it did.

I will stand for Jeremy until zie’s able to stand on zir own and then I will continue to stand beside zir. If my family’s not willing to stand beside me, I’ll stand on my own. I’m grateful for the friends I have with me and the family who has stayed strong. Maybe someday the rest of the family will join them but I will not back down. I will not quiet myself for their comfort.

My child needs me. They can catch up if they want.

It’s not natural…

My alarm went off at 5:45am this morning and Jeremy bounced out of zir bed a few seconds later. Zie was awake all night again and had been watching videos on zir smart phone. I turned off my alarm then synched my Fitbit with my phone. Jeremy surprised me by making my breakfast. Hot chocolate (made with cocoa beans farmed halfway across the world) and an english muffin topped with peanut butter… all previously delivered to our 24 hour supermarket by train, plane, and truck.

I had a quick shower, using our wonderful indoor plumbing, then pulled on my work uniform before running out the door to catch the first of my two buses. The sun was just peeking over the nearby mall, bathing the field beside me with light, causing the dew to glisten. My bus hadn’t arrived so I set my phone’s camera onto macro, turned on the flash, and snapped a couple of shots… sending the best one to Instagram before messaging my best friend L and Jeremy. I also chucked it onto Facebook for my friends to see. Karen and my Mom have already liked it.

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I chatted with L while I was on the bus. Zie lives halfway across the world but, thanks to Facebook Messenger and our smart phones, we can chat instantaneously. Then, when I got to work, I reversed the camera on my phone and took a photo of my coworkers and I waving good morning to Jeremy, who was in another city entirely. Zie saw it a few seconds later.

Okay, my life’s boring. It’s also not natural. I live in a freaking high rise, looking off my balcony to see the tops of the nearby trees, our local mall, and a collection of big box stores. Oh and a lot of little airplanes. I’m typing this on a netbook which I can unplug and carry just about anywhere. We have hot and cold running water in the kitchen and the bathroom, even though we live nowhere near the ground, and I currently have vegan “meat” in my freezer (so yummy and so not natural).

You know what’s natural? Love. Love is natural. Look at animals collecting in groups all over the world to cuddle and groom each other. Look at them separating into pairs… some of them with the same sex. I’m reasonably sure they didn’t pick the idea up from liberal sex education programs.

Gender roles aren’t natural. Some animals have sex specific instincts for mating rituals and child rearing but they vary from species to species. Blackie doesn’t worry about her tummy fat. Angel doesn’t worry that she spreads her legs too wide while grooming. Oreo doesn’t worry that his voice is a bit high pitched. And I have yet to see any of them express concern about Jeremy in a dress. They really don’t care as long as zie feeds them (and scratches their neck in that spot just below the ear).

Pizza rolls aren’t natural either but they’re pizza and gooey. Mmm… pizza!

But seriously, if someone wants to complain about love and gender being unnatural, I don’t think they should be using anything unnatural to share that information. They need to go somewhere completely natural and scratch their message out in dirt with a stick. That will get their point across nicely.

Love Wins