Ants in her pants

Disc Jockey found the coolest "tool" to help DJ let us know how she's doing when she's having a hard day.

We've gone round and round on this issue because Miss Stiff Upper Lip refuses to let us know if she's ok when she's clearly acting not ok.  We understand that everybody has "bad" or "off" days and all we ask is that she let us know if it's a regular "off" day, or if something has her so upset she feels the urge to purge (I do not like the fact that the phrase rhymes because that makes purging sound like a light hearted activity, and it's not) or if she feels like she can't guarantee her safety.

We've discussed using a chart with facial expressions drawn on it, encouraging her to paint scenes that can illustrate her feelings and she typically agrees to the plan and does not follow through.

Today, however, on our visit to see Disc Jockey, she tossed a bunch of what appeared to be various sized beanbags in DJ's lap.  They were tiny stuffed pillows with a facial expression stitched on one side and a description stitched on the other.  They were goofy, they were silly, they tickled DJ pink.

"So, which of these would describe how you're feeling today?"  Disc Jockey asked.

DJ chose two:

Excited and Sleepy.

"I'm excited that the surgery is coming up in "x" days and I don't know why, but I'm sleepy," and she kind of giggled.

Way to hit the ball out of the park Disc Jockey!!

If you live near, or can access, a Fresh Foods Supermarket, Disc Jockey found the feelings pillows there.  I think they would be universally appealing to small children, big kids and adults.  I want to get Bulldog his own feelings pillows, in fact!

Otherwise, DJ is getting antsy.  She actually started packing a little bit today.  And she wrote half of her research paper. But right now, she's taking a bath, which is her other form of therapy.  She just wants to get this show on the road!!  She needs a warm cup of tea and a decent night's sleep to get her another day closer.  

EEOC protects TGs

Transgender Forum-an online informational link posted this today:

There’s big news from the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission has ruled that transgendered people are covered under Title VII which means employers can’t discriminate against TGs when they’re hiring.


This is HUGE!!  If we look back at other groups that have been discriminated against in the USA (land of  the free?-there are all kinds of ways to define "free" or "not free"; we as a country can afford to grow a bit in this area.)  we see that "acceptance" often started with "forcing" employers to be fair in hiring practices.  When more women, and African Americans, and Transgender people, and anyone else who does not encompass the "white christian male" qualities that seem to be preferred, are incorporated into the workforce, greater exposure to "different" kinds of people occurs.  Then, when we work side by side with those people we used to think of as "different", we realize that they really aren't different when it comes to what really matters because good people all value the same qualities regardless of their background, identity, orientation, culture, religion, gender, or skin color:  character, loyalty, tenacity,  intelligence, morality, commitment to high ideals, to family and to loved ones.


I can only imagine that it must feel like progress moves at a snail's pace-I know that is true for me being a woman in a "traditional" man's workplace.  But it is a small step forward which is hugely important.

Feeling a teensy bit overwhelmed

By eleven o'clock this morning, I had my suitcase 95% packed for next week.  I have roughly 75% of my chores taken care of related to my absence from work during DJ's recuperation out of state.  Bulldog is managing our finances.  We are planning for DJ's birthday this week-two days before we leave for DJ's gender confirmation surgery.

Meanwhile, Romeo needs us to cosign for his student loan and apartment lease which complicates the refinance of our mortgage that Bulldog is trying to finish up.  DJ is supposed to be working on her research paper so that she can stay somewhat current with her English class.  Goodwrench is plugging along taking care of himself entirely-which is a huge relief.

We are also supposed to be logging every meal that DJ eats.  That has completely fallen by the wayside.  We all pay close attention to what she eats and how often she eats. We are all very familiar with portions of each food group that must be represented, but we simply cannot seem to remember to keep the log.  I also have a little over an hour to complete forms that the school system requires to allow DJ to continue with being tutored at home for the remainder of the school year.  Of course, the school system wants to pull the plug on the funds to allow that to happen-that freaking figures.  They were supportive of DJ's hospitalization for her eating disorder, but do not seem to consider her upcoming surgery a true "medical" issue that warrants her missing school.  I'm sure someone, in his/her ignorance, considers this "elective" not curative surgery.

I would love to battle the school system right now and point out that we have followed, to the letter, the guidelines of the WPATH organization, which the American Medical Association endorses.  How the local school system can decide that this is not a medical issue is beyond my understanding.  But, I currently feel too compromised to fight that battle right this moment. And I know Bulldog is too.  We will likely pay the teacher out of our pocket to keep DJ current with her studies.  All we can do is manage what is most important right now.

For instance, Bean was stating yesterday, pretty emphatically I might add, how frightened she is about DJ returning to her public school next year.  In fact, she flat out told me I should "be the parent" and refuse to let her.  I completely agree, but that will mean scoping out other possibilities for schooling, and having the conversation with DJ to let her know why we do not want to allow her to return to her public school-both of which are beyond our current abilities.  We can only focus on what next week holds for us.

I've never experienced something like this before that seems so involved that many of my other faculties are unavailable for other pursuits.  Bulldog feels the same way.  I mentioned this conversation to him and he replied, "I can't even think about that right now. That's next school year.  We'll worry about that after the surgery."

No wonder we have to keep nagging DJ to work on that research paper.  She MUST be feeling like this multiplied by, oh, I don't know-a zillion maybe?

Keep calm and carry on

This final countdown is so difficult.  I try to remember if it's difficult for me, how HARD it must be for DJ.  But, in true self-centered fashion, I come right back to how stressed I feel.  I'm such a lech!

DJ seems to be, for all intents and purposes, "nesting."  This is a word that I'm not sure translates to other cultures;  however, in light of the fact that it is likely a universal feminine trait, I am certain women of other countries can relate.  We usually see this quality in pregnant mothers right before birth of the baby is due.  We clean, we tidy, we arrange, all in preparation for the life changing event that is about to occur.

DJ, to a certain degree, has been nesting. The girl is, otherwise, a perpetual mess maker.  Her room is constantly in a state of disaster.  It truly looks as if a tornado came through it.  And her bathroom is ridiculous.  Yesterday, however, for some strange reason, she started cleaning.  Usually we have to make her do it.  For her to take the initiative is a bit unusual. Let me state it more accurately:  for her to take the initiative is highly irregular!!


On other fronts, she had her first sleepover with her best friend, Sister Chromatid recently and it was like "old times."  This is the first time in 4 months that she has been in the company of someone other than Bulldog or me for more than an hour or two, not including staff at the hospital.  She was giddy and silly and laughed so hard she spit, according to Barbie, Sister Chromatid's mom.

The next morning, I took both girls with me to a fundraiser with a "pirate" theme.  DJ looked adorable in her subtly alluring pirate get up but I could see her retreat into her shell as she came in contact with more and more strangers, especially when it was time to eat her breakfast.  She just wasn't up to the task that morning and felt embarrassed and disappointed in herself at not being up to the task.  We told her that all of us bite off more than we can chew some days and oftentimes, it's best to just back off and try again another day.  Bulldog picked her up, brought her home, she took her therapeutic bath and hung out with Mimi the rest of the day.

She's been off her hormones for five days and the mood changes have been minimal.  But DJ has never been one to have wild alterations in her mood anyway.  She's just varying degrees of stoic no matter what.  If I didn't know better, I would swear she is British.  And to any of you in the UK who are reading this, I mean that as a compliment in a "steady heads will prevail" kind of way.

On the surgery front, the surgeon is in receipt of the letters from the therapist and psychologist, so I can breathe a sigh of relief.  The surgeon's office has had to reassure me a number of times that everything is moving along properly. What do you do for people who soothe your neediness?  Are flowers appropriate?  Or does the fact that you've written a very large check suffice?  I don't know....

Bulldog touched base with the psychologist yesterday by phone.

He said to me, "There is one thing she wants us to do as soon as the surgery is over."  My heart sank, because I am constantly expecting SOMETHING to derail our plans somehow (I'm such a "negative nancy" lately).

"What's that?"  I replied.

"As soon as DJ comes out of surgery, she wants us to call her and let her know how DJ is."

I almost cried.

Once the surgery is done then, maybe, and only with their permission, can we share the names of all these incredible professionals who have made it their mission in life to help transgender folks achieve the lives they want and need. But until then, I just want to keep everything on the down low.  Fly under the radar, so to speak.  Which makes me regret that I shared some of my blog entries on Facebook last year....sigh.  The more I learn, the more I learn how much I have to learn.

Many thanks to some of my blog readers (friends) who have contacted me by my gmail email address.  I sincerely hope we can meet someday.

That's all for now. Be back in the next few days if I have not experienced some sort of meltdown while DJ keeps that stiff upper lip.

Shopping for enemas

We are in the phase of preparing for the actual surgery.  There is a shopping list that must be obtained and so DJ and I addressed this yesterday in Target and Walmart.

Here are some of the more exciting items on the list:

Magnesium citrate (a laxative)
Fleet enema (same purpose, but more fast acting)
Sanitary napkins
Anti-biotic ointment
Vitamin K

Damn it-nary a fun thing on the list!!!  OK, not entirely true since we will be picking up some of DJ's favorite movies for her to view, as well, and did find a cute "Tinkerbell" PJ set, which we had to get two of so we could bring one to Sister Chromatid, who is a big Tinkerbell fan.  We certainly will consider books but the first few days post-op, it is doubtful that she will be able to focus on words through her drug-induced haze.

We passed by the bathing suit section and I suggested we window shop, since she wants to wait till after the surgery to actually buy a bikini.  She was visibly excited at the thought of not having to drape her midsection.  I am so excited for her.

She was making all kinds of cute, smart @$$ remarks all day and was obviously in fine form eventhough all we purchased was about $200 worth of medical supplies and the aforementioned PJs.  We got home and packed the medical supplies in their own suitcase and even that was interesting to her.

Well, of course it is. This is all preparation for the final step in her physical transition.

However, today also marks the first day without her hormones, so she may experience what her doctors are referring to as a "menopause" complete with hot flashes and mood swings.  That's ok, she and I can experience that ride together, as I am in the beginning stages of the same process.  Poor Bulldog....

Aw crap, I gotta apologize

OMG-I think I may be suffering from schizophrenia.  One minute, I feel just fine, the next I'm super sensitive and blowing something out of proportion.  Or I'm confused because I feel like I have a right to be upset or put out when Bulldog does something insensitive, and then I get all discombobulated when I remember that he's feeling uber stressed right now too.  Then, I feel bad for getting upset and instead think about how terrible he must be feeling for having upset me.

Except that I can't be really sure of that because, in typical man fashion, he has retreated to his office and is saying nothing.  I hear his computer keys clicking away. I would love to entertain the fantasy that he is writing me a note of apology but that would just be getting my hopes up for  nothing.  I have been married to this man for over ten years and have loved him for nearing 13.  I know what he is likely, or in this case, not likely to do.

I woke up this morning feeling very sensitive.  Over coffee, when he made some joke, I informed him of this in, truly, the nicest way.  Not in a "stay out of my way" or a "you've been warned" manner, but in a "please understand I'm feeling a bit fragile" manner.  Could he not remember this before he criticized me, especially after I had gotten all dressed up for a date night that we've had only once previously in the last three months?  I was in no mood to have dinner with him after that and told him to take me home.  He lost even more points, poor man, when he made no other attempt to make up, other than a quick face-saving "I'm sorry" as he pulled up to the front of the restaurant to let me out while he parked, right before I insisted he take me home.

Yes, this is what I'm doing on a Saturday night when I could have been having dinner with my husband-I am writing to you fine folks.  No offense, but I'd rather be sipping a pinot grigio and waiting for my salmon.

We got home and I immediately changed out of my black dress and heels, put on a tank top and sweat  pants (yeah, right, that will punish him) and ate a dinner of two boiled eggs during which time I told him how he had now dropped the ball repeatedly in my eyes because:

1)  he criticized me

2)  he didn't offer an appropriate apology

3)  he didn't try to convince me to stay

4)  he forgot that I needed him to handle me gently today

and finally, (yes, there is an end to my bitching)

5)  he spoiled the night entirely


OMG-can DJ's surgery possibly get here any faster so I can dispense with my theatrics?

I proceed to walk to our room where I find some chore or other to occupy my time and I'm trying to hold onto my self-righteous indignation, when an annoyingly mature thought pops into my head:

You know, Bulldog is feeling pretty stressed himself.  You could consider that....


Damn it all to hell.  Now I can't even be properly mad at him anymore because I have realized my part in this little drama.  And I can't possibly go put on that little black dress again because I would feel like a complete ass.  The night is what it is.  I have to let it go.  This evening is definitely collateral damage in what is clearly a bigger battle ahead. 


Why share my ridiculousness with you all?  In spite of our combined stupidity tonight, I think overall Bulldog and I are doing a fairly decent job. So, if you, as parents, are supporting your child as he or she is transitioning, and sometimes drop the ball in how you handle the stress,consider that there are some fairly normal folks residing somewhere in the USA who are acting a little bit like overgrown toddlers from time to time because they, too, are not perfect;  transition of any kind is not easy for anyone involved, whether it's the transition that happens when you give birth to a baby girl, or  the transition where the person you knew previously as your son figuratively gives birth to herself, as a grown up girl.  In fact, in both cases it can be downright painful.  But just when you start to think it's all about you.....remember, others are in this boat too.  You're not the only one struggling.  OK-lesson learned.  Excuse me now while I go apologize to Bulldog.

Thanks for sharing

I have just heard from the most incredible woman who is a DJ supporter.  She contacted my email account to share some of her experiences post-surgery and to send love and encouragement to DJ.

This is incredibly good stuff.

I am reminded again and again how information is power.  And not the negative power that one wields to control others, but rather the positive kind that allows one to have more control over her own life and her own destiny.  Both DJ's and my own.

Ostensibly, I started this blog, I thought, for DJ, or for others in her shoes, or for other mothers in my shoes. But really, I think I did it for me because writing it nourishes me and then hearing from others  nourishes me even more.

"E" from somewhere in the USA shared this:

The first week will be the toughest but what most people have no clue about is how much courage it takes for kids like DJ to come forward and then with the help of a great family take this nightmare to its final cure because quite simply after this DJ will just be another young girl and then a woman and nothing else. She already has immense courage so facing the recovery down should be something she can handle.

Then she ended with:

When you get her home do not let her mope around after the first week or so home. Get her friends over. Get her doing something that makes her feel like just a normal teenage girl. To us that is very important.

Give DJ my love and tell her this is actually the easy part. The hard part was getting here and she has done that.

We are also fortunate enough to be in contact with "A" from the other side of the world who offered this:

I know we've never met and I don't want to sound like a creep but I honestly wish I could be there to help. To look after DJ if you needed to be at work, to take some of the pressure off in any way I could. Sadly all I can do is send my thoughts and best wishes your way.

Please know that anything I CAN do I will. 

Years ago, I had this incredible experience in a post office, which I have, obviously, not forgotten. I was standing at a counter with a woman in her 50's and a gentlemen likely in his 60's.  The woman was wearing this lovely perfume that smelled like actual roses.  I commented on how wonderful her perfume smelled and she delightfully thanked me and left the counter to continue her business with the post office employees.  At this point, I heard this deep resonant voice say, "Do you have any idea how you may have just affected the course of her day?"  I looked up and the older gentleman appeared as if he had come from Eastern Europe 50 years prior because of his manner of dressing and his beard.  I don't remember my response to him but I do remember thinking, "Do you have any idea how you have just affected the course of my day?"

This is what sharing information does-it can change the course of our days and our lives for the better.  I'm going to keep sharing and I hope you will too-if not with me, then with others whose lives will be better for it.  Thanks for the sharing thus far.