Meet Rachel, a Transgender Child

I've been very privileged to meet some transgender children since moving to Arizona. Today I'll talk about one of them. Her name is Rachel and she's nine years old. Despite having short hair (I'll get to that), she looks like a girl, and acts like one. If you saw the attitude, the spunk, that this girl gives off, well you should not doubt for a second that she's indeed female. Her mother's name is Amy (Love the name! Ha!), and she's simply a fantabulous mom, not only to realize who and what Rachel is, but to allow her to be who she wants to be. In this day and age, when parents still pressure their kids to take on a certain profession, this is simply amazing.

Savannah, Rachel, and Sarah.

I got a chance to play a sort of bodyguard for Rachel twice already. The first time was when I met them at Venessia's house, mother to Josie Romero, another transgender child. There was another mother there with a FTM trans-child named Emerson. We were all swimming in a community pool (well, okay, I was the only ADULT in the pool), and Rachel was in the deep end, and too tired too swim. I dragged her over to the side, and almost went under myself in the process! My oldest daughter, Sarah, took to Rachel immediately. Savannah really likes her as well. Skylar had fun playing with Rachel's little sister, Zoey. They're less than a year apart in age.

Last weekend, me, Nikki and the kids had the pleasure of attending a party for Zoey's 5th birthday. Great fun was had by all, though there was one little episode at the playground that really hit home for me. I was playing with Skylar, who was pretending to drive her "truck" to the grocery store and McDonald's. I overheard one boy tell Rachel that she's a boy, and he was calling her by her old name. I told him to knock it off, that Rachel is a girl, and you're going to hurt her feelings. My older daughters made me so proud. They told him that Rachel was born as a boy, but she's a girl inside, and it's what's inside that counts. I wanted to cry. (By the way, though Nikki and I have taught them about transsexuals, they haven't been told that I can be counted among their number. Baby steps, baby steps...) I asked Rachel if she was okay, and to not listen to what the boy was saying. She just shrugged it off and said, "Yeah, I know." If she was upset at all, she sure wasn't letting it show. I've felt from the start that I want to protect Rachel. She may not need protecting, with such a wonderful mom, but she reminds me of myself, who I could've been at that age. I wasn't allowed to be who I wanted to be... who I desperately needed to be.

Rachel and Skylar, beautiful girls both!

I can identify with both Rachel and her mother in two very basic ways. I still wish to this day that I had a mom or dad (hey, how about both?) who were even half as understanding and accepting as Amy is. I can only imagine what it must be like to attend school as a girl, to be accepted for who I am, not some caricature that I had to invent just to survive. As far as Amy, well... I have an ex who will not let me see or talk to my daughter because she noticed certain things about me while I was transitioning to live full time as a woman.

Nikki and I were talking with Amy, and what she told me almost brought me to tears. I didn't admit to it at the time, but I was almost speechless to hear what Rachel has to deal with. She has visitation with her father every other week, for five days out of that week. This man flies into a rage if he sees the name "Rachel" on her homework, or if anyone calls her by that name. He insists on her getting her hair cut short like a boy, almost to the point of it being a buzz cut. In effect, she is in a prison when she's with her father. I feel so bad for her, and I can only imagine Amy's anger and frustration at not being able to help her child for that period of time. There is a custody case building up, and Amy's ex will be trying to discredit her by saying that she's confusing Rachel, endangering her life, and using her for some sort of revenge against him. Rachel has tried to reach out to her father again and again, but he misses the point entirely, each and every time. He says that the whole "Rachel thing" is Amy's way of "getting back at him" because of issues causing their failed marriage. His own parents have tried to explain to him that this child is female.

Skylar (what a face!), Sarah, Savannah, and Rachel.

Why is it that children can understand what adults can't? Why can my daughters understand that Rachel is a girl, but her own father can't? I'm asking these questions, but I know the answer. Prejudice and bias. At some point, we grow up and think we know everything. We make opinions and they rarely change. We try to simplify our life by thinking of everything in terms of black and white... right and wrong... male and female. A male could never be a female, and a female could never be a male. End of story, ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom. WRONG. Wake up, people! Listen to what your kids are telling you. Hell, you might actually learn something. If Amy and Venessia can do it, why can't other parents? Can you love them enough to simply listen, to reach beyond what you know and understand, and love them for who they are... not who you want them to be?

Sarah and Savannah up top, with Rachel chillin' down below.

Rachel attends school as a girl, she has crushes on boys, and hey... when she puts her hand on her hip and says, "I get to stay up until NINE o'clock," well... wake up and smell the perfume.

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Brittany, My Biological Daughter

Brittany is my one and only biological daughter, and at the time of this post, I have not spoken to her for a year. I miss her so very much. I'll remind all of you that I am indeed Brittany's father, and I was unaware of the fact that I'm a transsexual until early 2003.

Brittany was born on March 12th, 2001. I often called her "Britty-Baby." Her mother and I were both living at my parents' house at the time of her conception. We got married in January of 2001, and we bought a condominium a month later, using settlement money from a recent car accident.

I still remember when she was born. She wailed and wailed until they let me hold her. At that point, she stopped crying and looked up at me with her beautiful eyes. Then I started crying! It remains the most profound and touching moment of my life.

Bursting out of the closet (one of her favorite games then) in 2003. She was two years old.

Some time after Brittany was born, her mother got a job. She worked during the day, and I worked the graveyard shift. I would sleep while Brittany took her nap, and then for a few more hours when her mother came home. Brittany was a very mild baby, and she was a good sleeper from the start.

When Brittany was a year old, her mother started going out and partying, instead of coming home to let me rest before work. Sometimes she would come home so late, that I would be late for work. Never mind that I was already doing all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, dishes, etc. We were fighting all the time. In July of 2003, she wanted me to stay at my parents' house for a week. I knew it would end up being for good, so I fought it, but eventually gave in, since I couldn't handle the stress anymore. She did indeed tell me not to come back, and I moved out my things while she was at work. She changed the locks after a few days.

Three years old, 2004.

I had visitation with Brittany every weekend, and she would stay overnight with me at my parents' house. Child support was also set up. In 2004, we found out that Brittany's mother hadn't been paying the maintenance charges for the condo, for almost a year! She was in danger of foreclosure. My father had co-signed on the place, so he was liable as well. I allowed Brittany's mom to move both of them down to North Carolina, as long as she brought Brittany up every other month for visitation. She had told me at the time that she was getting a place with her sister, but when I went down there, she said her sister had moved back to upstate New York. Instead, there was this man there by the name of Michael, who was her boyfriend.

One of my trips to North Carolina is detailed in two blog posts: here and here.

Four years old, 2005.

The arrangement with visitation lasted for about two years, upon which she said she couldn't travel because the doctor told her she had to be on bedrest during her latest pregnancy. Then after the baby was born, she couldn't take the baby with them, etc., etc. The last time I saw Brittany was in April of 2007. In January of that year, I went down there with Nikki and Skylar. Brittany's mother had a real bitch fit (actually, a jealous fit) over the fact that I brought Nikki. She and her fiancee (yes, she tried to rub it in my face that they were engaged now, but I couldn't have cared less) both noticed my chest and some other more subtle cues. She forbade me to bring Nikki again, but of course, it was my decision, not hers. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to travel down there again, due to all the problems Nikki and I were facing at the time (see this entry, one of many). Brittany got to meet Sarah and Savannah in April of 2007, when we were staying at a motel. I forget the circumstance, but it was a rare moment that Brittany got to come back up to New York for a couple days. There was some confusion, since Brittany was calling me "Daddy," while the other two only knew me as "Mama." It was interesting, to say the least! They took to each other right away, though. At one point, Brittany was throwing a fit and wouldn't leave the McDonald's play area when it was time to go. Sarah coaxed her out, saying, "I can't leave without my sister!"

Summer of 2006, five years old.

When I moved to Michigan with Nikki and the kids, her mother really freaked out, and wouldn't let me talk to Brittany on the phone again. She had been hoping for years that I would move, thus releasing her from the court order stating that she was to bring Brittany to me for visitation. This was another jealous fit, and she blamed it on the fact that I wasn't working. She said I wouldn't get to talk to Brittany on the phone, much less visit her, until I had a job and she was getting child support again. She said that since she wasn't getting child support, I no longer had the right to talk to Brittany. I doubt this is true, but then again, I've heard varying opinions on this.

Another from Summer, 2006.

She kept saying the nastiest things about me, and also about Nikki, and asking me very disrespectful questions (for example, asking me if Nikki pretends to be a man to further my "fantasy"), until I would have to hang up on her. I never told her mother that I'm a transsexual, mind you, because I feared her denying my visitation. As it is, my rights are still intact. I yearn to work again, not just to be a member of society once more, but to hire a legal aide in North Carolina to get me reconnected with my daughter. We just have no money to spare right now, unfortunately.

Christmas, 2006.

By all rights, Nikki and I should have Brittany. Her mother is emotionally and mentally handicapped. She can drive a car, but she has the maturity of a twelve-year-old. I heard her arguing on the phone with Brittany once, telling her daughter that a "mayflower" was a kind of flower, not a boat. I had to correct her. Why did I get involved with this woman, you ask? I wanted to take care of her, as she was a victim of multiple abusers, and things just kept on going. I was all she had, and I couldn't abandon her. Once she got pregnant, I felt obliged to marry her. Anyway, that seems like a lifetime ago. All in all, she is not a good mother. Her kids just walk all over her, and she seems just as immature as they are.

A school picture from Spring, 2007. Brittany is six years old here.

I can tell you who Brittany was at six years old, so this will be in past tense. She was stubborn, yet loving.  Somewhat out of control, because little boundaries had been set for her. She had seizures, in which she stared off into space, and occassionally urinated in her pants. She suffered migraines afterwards. She's been on multiple medications for this, and last I heard, the seizures were under control.

She loved Dora, and Dora toys were mostly what she wanted for Christmas. She was bored by anything else that was "cartoony." She did well with her work in school, yet had trouble paying attention in class. She loved salads and those little Starbucks drinks you can buy at the supermarket. She was very sensitive, and often went into "sulking periods," where she would sit with her back to you and wouldn't budge. This was an attention-seeking tactic though, because she would make sure you were reacting in some way (which I often went out of my way not to).

Fall of 2008. Seven years old.

She loved drawing and showing me her latest pictures. She enjoyed dancing and jumping around. If there was something she found funny, or fun, she would do it over and over again.

I miss my Brittany. I know I'll see her again, sooner or later. I just hope it won't be for too much longer.

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Savannah, My "Middle" Daughter

Since much of Sarah and Savannah's experiences between meeting me and moving to Michigan with us was the same, I'm going to duplicate quite a bit of text from Sarah's entry, and post it here. For those who've already read that entry, you can skip the blue text. Original material is in purple, as usual.

Savannah was born on July 30th, 2001. She's Nikki's second daughter. She was spared a lot of abuse from her father, perhaps because she was his favorite. I'm not sure. He still verbally abused her, and she was witness to much of the abuse that he heaped on Nikki and Sarah. She was a very easy-going child from the start, and she loved the quiet moments, and to be left alone for long periods of time.

I met Savannah in November of 2006, not long after I met Nikki. I showed up at the apartment one day (when her father wasn't there, natch), and her and her sister, Sarah, both made me drawings. They were full of smiles and they were both so sweet. Nikki had told them that she was in love with Amy, and that they were going to be living with mommy and Amy, but they would still get to see daddy. They seemed fine with it, but they had no idea the kind of hell they would have to go through over the next year. I still feel so bad that they had to go through all that.

Savannah in 2001, a few months old.

On January 30th, 2007, their father punched Nikki while I was there. His mistake, yet they paid for it. I attacked him, practically jumping on his back and pulling him away from Nikki. I heard them screaming and crying, but I had to protect my love against this monster. Nikki called the police, but she didn't press charges, and they really did nothing, since his brother is a policeman as well (which he made sure to tell them). We then took them to a motel and stayed there overnight, without notifying him. We showed up at court the next day, and so did he -- since the police had tipped him off that that's what Nikki said she was planning on doing. Nice one, guys! The scene at the courthouse was like something out of a Lifetime movie. Nikki's mother-in-law was trying to get them to come to her, but we wouldn't let them, since him and his mother were always threatening to take the girls and fly them back to his mother's home in the Philippines. That was so confusing for them.

Nikki was trying to get a "stay away" order of protection against her husband, but since he showed up at the same time, he filed it as well. The judge gave them a standard order of protection, that one would not harass or abuse the other... which basically amounted to nothing. Nikki had no choice but to take her and the kids and go into a safe house for abused women and their children. Naturally, I couldn't go with them, but I spent the time alone trying to find an apartment for us. Sarah and Savannah really hated the safe house. The staff there was not friendly at all. They were all kicked out a month later.

Savannah, 2003. I'll let you figure out how old she is here.  :P

Nikki and the kids got on the wrong bus after visiting me at the local mall for a few hours, and ended up in Queens (many miles from where they were supposed to be). The safe house personnel couldn't (or wouldn't) assist them, so I had to get them and drive them back. I dropped them off down the street, since I wasn't supposed to know where the safe house was. They kicked her out anyway, and I held all of us up in motels for the next two months. The school bus would come to pick up the girls at the motel. We were waiting for Social Services to help us with the first month or two of rent for an apartment.

They strung us along for months, and then pulled out.

Nikki then took the kids to Michigan to stay with her sister and her sister's family. Her sister kicked her out after two days, when the kids' father called up, threatening her.

Nikki took the kids to stay at her father's house. Her husband was threatening to put out an Amber Alert for the kids, even though he knew exactly where they were. Nikki had to come back to New York.

Hanging from the monkeybars in 2004.

The kids stayed with their father and their grandmother (Nikki's mother-in-law) while court proceedings were underway. Nikki and I got an apartment in Michigan, and then came back to New York a few days later. The kids got to talk to a lawyer appointed to them, a psychologist, and even the judge himself. I don't know what the kids told them exactly, but their father ended up on a national child abuse list because of it.

Near the end of the summer, the final decision was reached in court. The case was dropped, and Nikki would get to have the kids come to Michigan with us in four months. Why four months? Well, it was a real bonehead decision. They stayed with their aunt to make a more gradual transition towards living in Michigan, and living with two moms. There was no transition. Nobody back in New York said a thing about Michigan or having lesbian parents. They started school in September, and were uprooted in December. They were living with us in mid-December, and they started over at the public school here. They both started child therapy. Sarah was put on medication for anxiety and depression, and Savannah, for ADHD.

Savannah in her dance outfit, 2004.

They both had a really hard time adjusting. Life is really different here than in New York. None of their father's family were here, which was all they knew. Life was a bit stricter, yet more structured, than what it was in New York. Nikki used to be away at school and work a lot, and their father and grandmother just let them eat whatever they wanted, and however much they wanted. They were both overweight, especially Sarah. We broke it down: Breakfast at 8 AM (on weekends, otherwise it was at school), lunch at 12 noon (ditto), snack at 3 PM, dinner between 5 and 6 PM, and dessert at 7:30 PM. They're not allowed in the refrigerator without asking (though they often "forget" anyway), they're not allowed outside after dinner on a school night, and they're not allowed to play too far away from the house. They don't like the rules, but that would be so would any kid. This home is a safe, loving one... not the abusive, chaotic, hurtful one they had been in.

Last Summer, they stayed with their father and grandmother for a month. We knew it was a bad idea, but we had to prove that he really couldn't be a good parent to them. They missed their medication at least half the time, stayed up until 11 PM or 12 midnight every night, and were back to eating extra-sized meals and numerous snacks. It took quite awhile to get them readjusted to the rules and the way things are done in our home.
 

Savannah, 2006.

 
So who is Savannah? When she isn't spazzing out due to her ADHD (which includes being noisy, rowdy, and having trouble paying attention to anything we say), she's such a sweet girl. She's really outgoing and fun-loving, and just wants everyone to love each other. She has to hug both of us goodnight, and say "I love you" to each of us before going to bed, going to school in the morning, or going outside to play. If we don't answer her right away, she yells over and over, "I love you, mama! I love you, mommy!" She's plays quietly by herself at times, which seems to be an oddity in this household. She's more of an inside person than her sister (especially during the winter months), and she's much more of a girly-girl.
 

Summer of 2007.

 
She's very good at math, unlike Sarah. They're just starting to teach multiplication tables in her class, but Savannah is practicing double-digit multiplication at home. Sarah is a gifted student, but Savannah has more of an aptitude in math. When I met her three years ago, Savannah followed her sister's lead with almost everything. "I'll just have whatever Sarah's having for lunch." Now she often makes choices separately from Sarah, and sometimes it seems like she deliberately chooses something else. I'm so glad she's asserting her independence, but sometimes it can get difficult. With Skylar allergic to anything with tomatoes, I really don't want to end up making three different meals!
 
Sarah and Savannah alternate between getting along and hating each other's guts. "I'm never going to play with you again." Never equals an hour or two. Normal sister stuff. However, Skylar and Savannah always seem to be at each other's throats. I'm always tearing the two of them away from each other. From the very start, Savannah has had difficulty realizing that Skylar is a baby, and the same rules don't apply. Jealousy? Middle-child syndrome? I think so. Savannah just has no patience for her.
 

Christmas, 2007... right after they came to live with us in Michigan.

 
She's much more accepting of me and Nikki's relationship. She doesn't care who knows that she has two moms, and she's seemed to embrace the whole situation from day one. She seemed to idolize me in the beginning, and she would stand next to me in front of the mirror and brush her hair like I was. When her grandparents forbade me from going in their home (back in NY, when the court case was underway), she went outside to sit with me while I waited for Nikki, telling me, "If you're not allowed inside, then neither am I." I loved that, though I hope she wouldn't get scolded for it.
 
She needs to carry something around the house and to bed. No, it's not a stuffed animal. She calls it a "blankie," but it's actually one of Nikki's shirts. It can be any shirt which has been worn by Nikki, so that it'll smell like her. She will not go to sleep without it.
 

Face painting at a school carnival in Spring, 2008.

 
Savannah is much more adaptable to change than both of her sisters. Things just seem to roll right off the kid. Don't get me wrong, she has her weepy moments and her bursts of anger (yelling and talking back to us), but these are few and far between. When her meds are working, she's a pretty mellow kid.
 

Savannah with Sarah, October, 2009.

 
That's my Vannah and I love her.  :)

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Sarah, My Oldest Daughter

Sarah is Nikki's first daughter, born on January 11th, 1999. Her father was very abusive to her while she was growing up, both emotionally and physically. She was always a gifted child, and she started walking and talking well before the one year mark.

I met Sarah in November of 2006, not long after I met Nikki. I showed up at the apartment one day (when her father wasn't there, natch), and her and her sister, Savannah, both made me drawings. They were full of smiles and they were both so sweet. Nikki had told them that she was in love with Amy, and that they were going to be living with mommy and Amy, but they would still get to see daddy. They seemed fine with it, but they had no idea the kind of hell they would have to go through over the next year. I still feel so bad that they had to go through all that.

On January 30th, 2007, their father punched Nikki while I was there. His mistake, yet they paid for it. I attacked him, practically jumping on his back and pulling him away from Nikki. I heard them screaming and crying, but I had to protect my love against this monster. Nikki called the police, but she didn't press charges, and they really did nothing, since his brother is a policeman as well (which he made sure to tell them). We then took them to a motel and stayed there overnight, without notifying him. We showed up at court the next day, and so did he -- since the police had tipped him off that that's what Nikki said she was planning on doing. Nice one, guys! The scene at the courthouse was like something out of a Lifetime movie. Nikki's mother-in-law was trying to get them to come to her, but we wouldn't let them, since him and his mother were always threatening to take the girls and fly them back to his mother's home in the Philippines. That was so confusing for them.

Sarah at two years old, 2001.

Nikki was trying to get a "stay away" order of protection against her husband, but since he showed up at the same time, he filed it as well. The judge gave them a standard order of protection, that one would not harass or abuse the other... which basically amounted to nothing. Nikki had no choice but to take her and the kids and go into a safe house for abused women and their children. Naturally, I couldn't go with them, but I spent the time alone trying to find an apartment for us. Sarah and Savannah really hated the safe house. The staff there was not friendly at all. They were all kicked out a month later.

Sarah in one of her dance outfits, five years old, 2004.

Nikki and the kids got on the wrong bus after visiting me at the local mall for a few hours, and ended up in Queens (many miles from where they were supposed to be). The safe house personnel couldn't (or wouldn't) assist them, so I had to get them and drive them back. I dropped them off down the street, since I wasn't supposed to know where the safe house was. They kicked her out anyway, and I held all of us up in motels for the next two months. The school bus would come to pick up the girls at the motel. We were waiting for Social Services to help us with the first month or two of rent for an apartment.

Sarah at her eigth birthday party, 2007.

They strung us along for months, and then pulled out.

Nikki then took the kids to Michigan to stay with her sister and her sister's family. Her sister kicked her out after two days, when the kids' father called up, threatening her.

Nikki took the kids to stay at her father's house. Her husband was threatening to put out an Amber Alert for the kids, even though he knew exactly where they were. Nikki had to come back to New York.

The kids stayed with their father and their grandmother (Nikki's mother-in-law) while court proceedings were underway. Nikki and I got an apartment in Michigan, and then came back to New York a few days later. The kids got to talk to a lawyer appointed to them, a psychologist, and even the judge himself. I don't know what the kids told them exactly, but their father ended up on a national child abuse list because of it.

Sarah (with Savannah behind her) at their confirmation, 2007.

Near the end of the summer, the final decision was reached in court. The case was dropped, and Nikki would get to have the kids come to Michigan with us in four months. Why four months? Well, it was a real bonehead decision. They stayed with their aunt to make a more gradual transition towards living in Michigan, and living with two moms. There was no transition. Nobody back in New York said a thing about Michigan or having lesbian parents. They started school in September, and were uprooted in December. They were living with us in mid-December, and they started over at the public school here. They both started child therapy. Sarah was put on medication for anxiety and depression, and Savannah, for ADHD.

They both had a really hard time adjusting, but Sarah took it the hardest. She really had trouble just getting to like me, since her father and I don't get along. It took her awhile to realize that she doesn't have to take sides. Life is really different here than in New York. None of their father's family were here, which was all they knew. Life was a bit stricter, yet more structured, than what it was in New York. Nikki used to be away at school and work a lot, and their father and grandmother just let them eat whatever they wanted, and however much they wanted. They were both overweight, especially Sarah. We broke it down: Breakfast at 8 AM (on weekends, otherwise it was at school), lunch at 12 noon (ditto), snack at 3 PM, dinner between 5 and 6 PM, and dessert at 7:30 PM. They're not allowed in the refrigerator without asking (though they often "forget" anyway), they're not allowed outside after dinner on a school night, and they're not allowed to play too far away from the house. Sarah hates the rules, but so would any kid. This home is a safe, loving one... not the abusive, chaotic, hurtful one they had been in.

Summer, 2007.

Last Summer, they stayed with their father and grandmother for a month. We knew it was a bad idea, but we had to prove that he really couldn't be a good parent to them. They missed their medication at least half the time, stayed up until 11 PM or 12 midnight every night, and were back to eating extra-sized meals and numerous snacks. Sarah gained eight pounds in a month while over there. She came back so messed up, she was kicking and screaming, and trying to grab knives... all because she wasn't allowed to go to the park because of her bad behavior. We put her in an outpatient program, which was like a school for kids, to help them handle their feelings and behavior. That was last August. She's been doing much better since then, and her therapist is really pleased.

So who is Sarah, really... besides a product of her environment? She's gifted... particularly in art, reading, and writing. She's way ahead of her grade level with her reading. She's incredibly creative. She's bossy and pushy, yet she has a good heart. She's patient with her younger sister, Skylar... yet fights often with Savannah. She certainly has an aversion to change, or anything out of the ordinary. Everything and everyone has to fit in their own little box. We're trying to teach her that the world just isn't like that. We had the biggest problem with her, after hearing her say such things like, "Two women shouldn't get married," and "You two should not be sleeping together." Anti-gay sentiments from our own daughter. Yet, to her credit, she was thrown into this lifestyle, and her father's family might've said some things to them... or worse, tried to brainwash them completely.

Winter, end of 2007. Not exactly gym wear, ha ha!

Sarah is a perfectionist in school, and with almost everything she does. She can be pretty damn lazy, and sometimes getting her to take a bath or shower is like pulling teeth. She's starting puberty, and oh boy, the attitude and just plain sassyness from this girl is through the roof sometimes. Sarah and this boy in our apartment complex have a love/hate relationship in a way. They disagreed on something, so he threw something at her (I think), and she threw him down and sat on him! So she's pretty rough and tomboy-ish at times.

She needs to be a kid. She worries if we have enough money for this and that, and, "Does the car have enough gas?" and "Did you remember to lock the front door?" Nikki and I tell her all the time not to worry about those things, and that we have it covered. Stop worrying so much and being so serious all the time. Laugh and have fun, and be a kid. Because we all know, those childhood moments don't last forever. Revel in them while you can.

Sarah, 2008.

She's a very picky kid, especially with food. She loves to eat... maybe too much... but she doesn't like half the snacks we have. I suppose that's a good thing, although she had a crying fit this morning, because we gave them a healthy snack for school: Celery with ranch dip and raisins or carrots. "I want a snack for school!" "We already gave you one." "I don't like it!" "Then you don't have to eat it." "I want a snack for school!" etc., etc., etc.

I'm a little nervous because tomorrow, Sarah is going for the the first of two surgeries to get the birthmark (or mole, depending on which doctor you talk to) removed. You can see it in some of the pictures here, it's near her right temple. It's been changing color, getting bigger, and irritated. We still don't know the time of the surgery, so I hope there hasn't been some kind of mix-up.

Sarah and Savannah, 2009.

That's my Sarah. I love her. That must be the reason why I haven't killed her yet.  ... just kidding.  ;)

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Skylar, My Youngest Daughter

I'm going to be writing a bunch of these mini-biographies about friends and family. The first and last one was about my friend, Chris. See, it would be really handy and easy to just link to a biography, in case my readers want to know more.

Skylar at six months old. Just look at those chubby cheeks!

Skylar was born on May 17th, 2006. She's Nikki's last daughter from an abusive marriage. Nikki was raped by her husband, and Skylar is what came out of that. He then wanted Nikki to have an abortion, and she refused. Her husband also used to make Skylar cry to upset her mother. If she needed her diaper changed or was hungry, he would let her cry and not let Nikki near her. I'm so thankful that those days are over, and that I was a big part of that change.

I met Sky when she was all of six months old. Nikki actually brought Skylar to our first date! She wanted to make sure that I was okay with kids being around. I had no problem with it, but I did wonder at first if we would ever get any time alone. I had nothing to worry about there, though now there are always kids around. Go figure.

Skylar with Lizzie in Fall, 2007.

When Nikki and I moved to Michigan (back in August of 2007), Skylar came with us, and her two older sisters joined us in December. We quickly realized that she has a speech delay. At the time, she knew all of ten words, which would replace the "ap, ap" noise she would make for everything. We placed her in a program called MIPP (Macomb Infant Preschool Program). Her vocabulary slowly improved, and now she's coming out with full sentences - verbs, nouns, and prepositions - that she comes up with herself! It's pretty amazing to see her progress, even though she still has a developmental delay. She attends a preschool for speech delayed children now, and she goes on the bus, and comes back three hours later. She loves riding on the bus, and we were so surprised that she had no problem leaving mommy and mama behind and riding on a strange vehicle by herself. That's so unlike Skylar! The last few days, she's been falling asleep on the bus.

This one has to be late 2007/early 2008.

She's three and a half years old now, and becoming quite the little person. Of our three girls (Sarah, Savannah and Skylar), she's the funniest one, the comedian. Sometimes she'll do anything to get a laugh.

She idolizes Sarah, and she sometimes goes to her when Nikki or I don't respond as quickly as she would like. This is because Sarah tends to baby her, even more than her moms do. Sky and Savannah usually don't get along at all. They both have been known to deliberately antagonize the other, such as grab something the other one is playing with, or stick a foot in the other's face. I'm always breaking them up, either by scolding Savannah or picking Sky up and placing her down somewhere else (she hates that!).

Face painting! This was taken last Summer (2009) at Shedd Aquarium in Chicago.

Skylar is allergic to everything. Well, okay, not everything, but let's see: Tomatoes, cinnamon (even just touching her skin), seasoned salt, skittles, red food dye in candy, sauerkraut, peppermint, taco seasonings, barbecue sauce, and a few other things. She also has a lactose intolerance, so if she has too much milk, cheese, or chocolate... watch out!

She always refers to food as "nummy nums," and yeah, that's my fault. At some point, I got into the habit of saying "silencio" to her when she bugs me too much. Eventually, I sang it as some weird-ass opera song. "Silencioooooo.... ohhh, silencioooo... silencio, yeah silencioooo!" Now she sings it too, kinda. "Shoe aloe, oh shoe aloe..."

Taken in September, 2009.

She still hasn't been potty trained, and both her parents are itching to get her out of diapers, Sadly, she isn't even aware of whether she has pooped or not. She'll say she's pooped when she hasn't, and vice versa. Arrrrgh! She also has the bad habit of tearing up books and breaking toys, and generally making a disaster area of her room, as seen here.

Nummy nums! This was taken at the Halloween party on October 24th, 2009.

She's my monkey girl no matter what, and I wouldn't trade her for any other monkey girl in the world.

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Chris: A Departed Friend

I met Chris via Steve, a mutual friend, back in 1990. He happened to be over Steve's house while I was on the phone with him. We found that we shared a love of thrash metal, including such groups as Testament, Metallica, and Megadeth. My tastes actually ran much darker and heavier, like Morbid Angel and Carcass, but Chris didn't seem to mind at all. We eventually met in person and started playing some good ol' Dungeons and Dragons. It was second edition back then, for all you 12.5 edition wanna-be's.

From 1992 to 1994, I ran a radio show on the Stony Brook College radio station, WUSB, 90.1 FM. I had the moniker of... wait for it... Dredstar. I named myself after a comic book called Dreadstar. It sounded different and slightly malevolent. Chris' name was Thrashman. You know, he liked thrash metal... so it was like trashman, only... well, whatever. I had a lot of friends down at the show over it's two years on the air, and they all had to have a funny/morbid codename, like "Jim, the Rotten Limb," "The Gorefiend," and "Morbid Millie" was my girlfriend at the time. Anyway, I digress.

In 1993, I secured a position at Chris' employer. It wasn't anything great, but hey... money, y'know? I would stay after work to hang out with him, since he worked second shift. I would run down the road and grab some Taco Bell for us, and we would eat, play Uno (he usually beat me, grrrr!), and just shoot the breeze. By 1998, we had both left the job for various reasons, but of course we stayed in touch, hung out, and saw the occasional movie. We both love movies, but I would say Chris is more of an avid movie fanatic.

Life went on, and Chris and I both got married. My wife and I separated in 2002, and he was divorced a few years later. I had a daughter, and he had three kids.

In 2005 or so, I told him that I'm a transsexual. I showed him a photo from the Long Island Pride Winter Ball. Well, here it is.

He said, "Oh yeah, I have no problem with it! No problem at all! I wouldn't even think that was you, but maybe a picture of your sister. Yeah, you gotta do what makes you happy." Well, it's not word for word, but that's the gist of it. It was forced, and I knew it.

We fell out of touch for awhile, then he emailed me and told me that he was a bit overwhelmed by my transsexuality and the fact that his friend had changed so much. He said he still wanted to be friends and he told me about his divorce. He said he would tell me more in his next letter, and he gave me his MySpace address. I wrote him back right away, of course... but I heard nothing else from him, on MySpace or elsewhere. Maybe he saw my pics on MySpace, some of which were kinda revealing (click here for an example from an old post).

A few months ago, I got on Facebook and found him there, along with two mutual friends of ours, including Steve, who I mentioned above. My two other friends accepted my friend requests, and we've chatted back and forth to some extent.

Chris hasn't accepted my request, and it's likely that he never will. I know he's been on Facebook lately, because well...

I don't blame Chris for avoiding me. It's a general rule-of-thumb that the closer your friend or family member is to you, the harder it will be for them to accept. Also, it's pretty well known that men have a harder time dealing with it than women. Many men can't fathom why their friend would want to "cut it off," much less realize the fact that their friend was a woman the whole time, and that part just doesn't belong on a woman.

I had another friend, by the name of Jim, who had a lot of problems with me "choosing this life," as he said. He's a deeply religious fellow, and he actually thinks I'm committing a sin by leading my life this way. I looked, but for the life of me, I can't find any mention of transsexuality in the bible. Well, I digress again.

I miss this guy. We had a really wacky friendship, since we are both really wacky people. We had our own language almost, some of it culled from Johnny Dangerously ("you fargin icehole!"), a love of Star Trek and horror movies and books, role-playing games, crazy metal music, the list goes on and on. I'll never forget the time we went to see Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey while drunk, or when he ran around with his Robocop helmet on and "shot" cars (hmmm, we were drunk then too). I've only been to a strip club twice in my life, and that was with Chris. We went to too many metal shows to mention.

I'm out of things to say, but not out of memories. I wonder if he misses being my friend. Maybe he thinks he would rather have nothing, than have a friendship so changed as to be unrecognizable from the one we had? Well, I certainly miss him.

Are you reading this, Chris? I miss you, ya fargin turdbomb my friend. And I will be here... whenever or if ever you choose to contact me. Until then, all I have to say is... Bogus.

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