Papoe

Love and marriage and tourism

October kicked off with a little celebration of tourism. Love and tourism. Love and marriage and tourism.  And most importantly, no children.

Nearly four years ago Khary and I exchanged wedding vows and embarked on the crazy life we live together. Somewhere I have a copy of my vows, where I talked about knowing the moment I met him that he was one of the kindest men I’d ever met, and one of the most persistent. That part got laughs because most of our family and friends knew about the years he tried to court me. Woo me. Sweep me off my feet. During those years, I wanted to be friends. And then one day, I wanted more. That was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

If we were to redo our vows, Khary would insist on making his funny. I had made him promise that he would not TRY and be funny because he needed to profess his love for me (he did). He told me after that he wished he had tried. Because I got the laughs.

We escaped the sunny side of the bay and ventured back to San Francisco to get our anniversary on. The plan included a stop at Fog City Diner for lunch, a short Bay Cruise, a Pedi-cab ride back to the ferry building, wine and oysters and the Hog Island Oyster Co., and then a little rest and relaxation in our hotel room before dinner.

The rest of the night was pure Chez Romance—riding the 38 bus down Geary Street surrounded by a bunch of drunk people. It was one of those nights, when cabs were full or nonexistent. But it didn’t spoil our mood (almost, but the wine helped keep me happy). We still had a fabulous dinner and finally managed to hit up one of our favorite spots in the Mission: Bar.

In the morning I missed the girls but we managed to stretch the morning out to afternoon because kids do not understand anniversaries or hangovers.

The second and third decision I’ve ever made: Jocelyn and Aja.

Sibling school pictures!

Holiday portrait, take one

I think this would have been a better picture if we all had drool on our chests like Aja. Afterall, aren't we supposed to match for Christmas photos?

Ideas are now brewing for take two...

Baby books are so last year. This year it's all papoe all the time.

Just before Jocelyn was born I bought a baby book—a hardbound book adorned with zoo animals on the front and pre-decorated pages that would allow me to insert pictures or precious mementos. I think it’s gathering dust somewhere on one of our many bookshelves. Pressed for time between swollen breasts, cleaning bottles, and a lack of suitable naps, I began scribbling small notes around the house or on the computer about various milestones: rolling over, sitting up, throwing up, and standing up.

When Aja was born we were unprepared, and the thought of buying a baby book didn’t even cross my mind. The hospital suggested using the website CaringBridge to update friends and family. I noted her weight, when she was taken off the respirator, the first time I was able to hold her and breastfeed her. She came home and I started scribbling small notes about various milestones: turning her head to the left, opening her clenched hands, and rolling over. That is, until I found a better way of doing things.

There’s no designated space in a baby book to write about the days that being a mother make me want to rip my hair out and run out of the house screaming for more wine. There’s no space to write about the great days, where I can sit and watch my girls play and bicker and laugh and scream at one another. There’s no space to talk about the hours spent combing out Jocelyn’s curly hair so that I can braid it, or the physical therapy appointments designed to help motivate Aja to roll, to sit, and to stand.

There have been surprising moments with each of our girls. I have watched them both grow from two small beings that think every black man is their father into girls that are absolutely bonded to their daddy. They each share my stubborn gene, but it manifests itself in different ways. Jocelyn doesn’t listen, and Aja refuses to let anything stand in her way once she sets her mind to something (even if it means trying to dive off the couch). They are happy so often that it’s off-putting when they are not—Jocelyn has my cackle, which celebrates everything that is remotely funny; Aja displays her humor in grunts and snorts while bouncing around wildly.

Khary and I will soon celebrate our third wedding anniversary. We never could have imagined the life that we have now. Family came sooner than we had expected. But it’s our family—our loud, screaming, happy, clapping, marching, dancing, singing family.

This is my 100^th post. I’m celebrating with some wine, some greasy food, some baseball, and some family. It’s also what I would call a typical Friday night.

Predicting divorce? Don't believe everything you read.

If an economist performs a stupid experiment in the woods and a tree falls and hits him in the head, would the study be deemed worthless? If a man marries and has a baby girl, is he more likely to leave the marriage than if his wife had birthed a boy? The economist in the woods says yes.

There was an article on The Daily Beast yesterday that listed the 15 Ways to Predict Divorce. It’s a nice compilation of random facts and studies. The one that stood out the most was number 6: If you have a daughter, you're nearly 5 percent more likely to divorce than if you have a son. 

I don’t necessarily dispute the findings. This is not to say that I agree with the findings. They are bullshit. I do believe that these men spoke to X number of parents and asked X number of questions and their findings lead to the conclusion that there is a gender bias. However, I don’t agree with the conclusion that it is true for the masses of fathers in the world. That is just my opinion. But more importantly, it leaves me wondering, what are we supposed to do with this information?

If I were to believe this "Demand for Sons" and want to have children (assuming that I don’t already) should I go so far as to choose the sex of my child to ensure that my marriage remains intact? I realize I’m taking this idea to the extreme, but the technology regarding sex selection exists and may one day be a widespread practice. Should I really look at having a girl as a detriment to my life? Should I love my life less because I don’t have boys? Absolutely not. And Khary would agree. Having children can be stressful at times, but it has only strengthened our marriage. Just look at him—this is a man that adores his daughters, and our family.

I certainly am not trying to make light of divorce—I’m a child of divorce. Had I been born a boy, would my parents still be together? I can say with complete certainty that it wouldn’t have mattered. I think a child’s gender influences how a family “works” because our house would certainly function differently if we had two boys. But those boys would not bond us together more than we are now. The study mentioned that the “divorce effect” becomes larger as a family increases in size. That seems logical, but what it really means is that the stakes become larger when a family grows. I just don’t think that having a girl or boy factors into the equation with such certainty.

So wave your girl flag and kiss your daddy, because he’s probably not going anywhere. Of course, if you are to believe any of the other 15 predictions, you better beware of smoking, red states, and Americans.

 

What do you think of the 15 Ways to Predict Divorce? Is there one that popped out for you as an absolute truth or total bullshit?

Girlfriends are more than a girl's best friend

I consider myself extremely lucky to be surrounded by a great group of girlfriends. When I say surrounded, I am speaking figuratively, since many of my girls live much further than a hop, skip, and a jump away. I’ve known some for a few years, and others long enough to harbor blackmail-worthy stories. But they're all mine, and I love them.

Yahoo posted an article from the editors of Prevention magazine about the mental well-being of married adults (as opposed to married children). It stated that according to a study those that had at least two best friends were happier than those will just one buddy. I found this a bit humorous at first because it literally says, "a study." I don't know who conducted the study (marriage counselors? divorce lawyers?) or who they studied (newlyweds?), but one of the other points of the article was that those that smiled in their college yearbook photo were more likely to stay married. Maybe I was drinking a Jack and Coke at La Salle's when yearbook photos were taken, or I overslept through the photoshoot (and my first class), but I don't think college yearbook photos have been taken since the 80's. I digress...

So this got me thinking about all of our smiley girlfriendy faces. My college friends—the Chico girls—are near and dear to my heart. We took that journey together: from annoying teenagers, to one solid think-tank (all dressed in flannels and Birkenstocks. It was 1994. Don’t judge!), and then we slowly grew into the individuals we are today.

One of our yearly Chico girls weekends

Sarah and Elyce are my sisters from another mother. They are actually sisters, which has come with its own set of challenges when they don’t get along. But with Sarah, I have a partner-in-crime for life, and with Elyce, my travel date, all I can say is Como Dice? Early next year we can ALL finally call ourselves a mother, and we will find even more reasons to laugh together.

A Vegas excursion, before babies.

There are still other women that I hold close to my heart. Some I have played soccer with, or helped decorate a bathroom in fake blood for Halloween, or beat in a yearly Oscar pool (again!), or I turned to for advice about work, or I drink wine with every year at Christmas.

Yes, I am happy.

And if I don’t have any of my girls, I can still find a way to dance to my own beat.