Anyone who follows this blog, or Roxy’s, knows we frequently spend time on the webcam together.  We talk, make faces, blow kisses, and expose skin for each other.  She watches me with my ElderSpawn and is amused by my attempts to contain my squirming Little Bit and I watch as she parents her weasels.  Frequently, Roxy captures webcam shots, which she sometimes sends to me.

I love doing sexy things for her and drool when she returns the favor (her bed is in view of the webcam.. I’ll let you imagine the possibilities for a moment..

… need a few more moments with that?  Ok.. here we go).

A couple of nights ago, I was wearing my red western shirt, with the snaps down the front.. really nice for that dramatic rip-the-shirt-open effect.

At some point, when we were without children for a few moments, I pulled my snaps, one by one, to titillate her and express my friskiness…

She was feeling frisky, too, flashing me and making all kinds of suggestive comments….

I really like her.  She makes me laugh and smile and squirm in my seat.  She makes me very happy..

… and someday I should post some of the shots I capture from my side of the webcam

Happy HNT, y’all

To see all the other HNT posts for the day, go to Views from the Back Row, from whence the HNT goodness has come.

It’s been a year since the weekend my second daughter was born.  We’ve been reminiscing about a lot, reciting Little Bit’s birth story, remembering little details and funny stories.  She was born on a Sunday, but we started gearing up for her arrival that Friday.  My wife was sure the baby was coming within the next two days, so she and I went over our plan.  Her mom was here already, stationed in her recreational vehicle next to the house.  We’d talked to my parents, confirming they were on-call, ready to pick up ElderSpawn.

We planned to call her sister once we were in labor, everyone else who would be attending the birth was in town.  Our bags and checklists were double-checked.

My wife didn’t sleep well that night and Saturday morning she definitely didn’t feel right.  As the morning went on, it became clear that labor had begun.  Phone calls were made, her sister started driving across the state and arrangements were made for ElderSpawn to go off with my parents for a while.  At around 9 pm, we headed for the hospital.  The night passed in that bizarre timelessness you find in hospitals, airports and customer support phone calls.

We welcomed our second born the next evening, at 6:01 pm.  My wife was heroic, and I did my part by not screaming as she squeezed my hand like a vise.  After 9 hours of hard labor, and an hour and a half of pushing, we had a beautiful 8 lb, 20 inch baby girl to add to our family.

And now that bundle of adorable chub is walking, babbling, eating, hugging, laughing hysterically when tickled, playing peek-a-boo and charming everyone in her path.   It feels like she just got here and as if she’s been with us forever, at the same time.

On Sunday, we invited a small group of family and friends over to celebrate the occasion.  We’re having a bit of a heat wave here and it was nice to gather in our front lawn, under the huge cherry tree.  Little Bit rambled around, trying to escape into the flower beds the whole time.  Our friends brought their one year old (she’s 3 days older than LB) but she’s not walking yet, just cruising.

ElderSpawn and I took on the challenge of baking the birthday cake.  We spent some time pouring over some cookbooks, discussing the comparative merits of various cakes and frostings.  We decided to make Red Velvet Cake based on the Pioneer Woman’s recipe.  It’s not a difficult recipe, but the result is dramatic.  I’ve never made a layer cake before, but it turned out brilliantly.  We spent several hours on the project, reviewing the recipe, checking our supplies and going shopping.  Then we took our time with the recipe, mostly so ES could do the bulk of the measuring and mixing, and take her time with the fractional math and conversions between pounds, ounces and cups.  The batter ended up looking like red play dough thanks to the 2 ounces of red food coloring we added to make sure we got a true red.

We frosted our brilliantly red, mildly toxic cake with cream cheese frosting (Mrs. Kyle’s request), decorated with pink writing and free-form designs, and served with a scoop of creamy, delicious vanilla ice cream.

—

Last night, on Little Bit’s actual birthday, we were on a soccer sideline watching ElderSpawn’s team play in the nearly 90 degree heat (her team won, 3-2).  Last year, her team had a bye on Monday (convenient as we were checking out of the hospital) and then played their last game on Thursday, the hottest day on record for Olympia at 104 degrees.  And, despite the furnace-like temperature, we were there with our 3 day old baby, who insisted on being swaddled tightly in spite of the heat.   Little Bit got birthday greetings from everyone last night, and we parents reminisced about the heat last year.  This year we’ve got another hot week, though not as bad, and we had another newborn on the sidelines.  One of the other families greeted their 5th child, a boy, 2 weeks ago.  This Saturday, we’ll host the season ending soccer party (and slide show) and welcome our extended soccer family for an afternoon of food and family fun.  Then we’ll all have a well-deserved break from soccer for a little while.

–

The biggest stress point at home right now is in trying to get Little Bit to sleep on her own, so we can get some as well.  And it’s not just lack of sleep, it’s the inability of my wife to move freely, without the leach-like presence of our baby clinging to her at all times.   Little Bit is going through some serious separation anxiety right now, and Mrs. Kyle deals with it all day long and then again at night, once I’m in bed.  It used to be that my wife could nurse the baby to sleep, then deposit her into her crib, earning some freedom.   That baby-free zone was an essential space for her to recharge her batteries, get phone time with friends, do things that can’t be done with only one hand free and the other holding a baby to her hip.  We did have that schedule for a while, but now we’ve got a baby who begins to cry as soon as she feels a break in bodily contact and the gravity of being lowered into the crib.  Last night was typical.  My wife tried several times, starting at around midnight.   I was in bed by then, but I could hear her walk from the living room to the baby’s room next to ours.  A soft creaking sound as she bent over the crib and then Little Bit would start crying.  Mrs. Kyle would attempt to settle her into her bed without picking her back up, but the crying doesn’t die down, it increases.  Eventually, she’d pick the baby back up and carry her out to the living room.   This was repeated, each time my wife got more desperate for relief, until the last time when she was near tears herself.  You might ask, what about letting the baby cry it out?  Well, yeah, we could try that (and have), but the result would be that everyone in the house is awake and miserable.   My wife is very conscientious about making sure our eldest daughter and I get as much sleep as possible.  Last night, after hearing the note of desperation in my wife’s voice as she pulled the baby out of the crib for the umpteenth time, I got up and took the baby from her.

I sat up with LB, in our bed, while my wife did her pre-bed preparations.  Usually, Mrs. Kyle reads a little and then gets some baby-free sleep before I bring Little Bit in to nurse and finish the night with us.  Baby-free sleep means not having to carefully arrange our bodies around her little sprawling one, or for my wife, having to arrange herself so that she’s positioned for feeding.

So we got through the night, without as much sleep as we wanted, and without my wife getting her time alone.  We’re surviving, but not thriving.  And, unfortunately, since our normally considerable brain power is being suppressed by sleep deprivation, we’re having a hard time coming up with viable solutions.  I’ve got some new ideas (thank you, Roxy, for brainstorming with me this morning) and I’ll see what Mrs. Kyle thinks about those tonight.  I know this will get easier, I know she’ll sleep through the night at some point and I know my wife won’t be a bitchy wreck due to lack of sleep someday, but dammit, that isn’t helping a whole lot right now.   It’s hard to get through the days and nights when my only solace is that at some unspecified date in the future it will be easier.

Ok, bitch session over, thanks for sticking around.  Hope you all have a great week.  It’s almost time for me to bike to day camp to pick up my ElderSpawn and see what the evening has in store for us.  Wish me luck.

From Ang, the Sweltering Celt, on this week’s Microfantasy Monday theme:

I am taking a break from heavy duty chores in horrid summer heat to bring you this week’s MfM theme:  Sweat

This is part of the continuing story of Jude and Kate, first introduced in MFM, week 30, continued here and here.

—

It was ridiculously hot, one of those days when the air is so hot it presses in on you and makes it hurt to breathe.  It would have been a great day to head to the watering hole, that cool, deep bend in the river would wash away the dust that was sticking all over Jude’s body, bonded to him by the buckets of sweat pouring out of his skin.

Jude shook his head, dismissing the cool, green, watery thoughts.  It’d do no good to daydream, that wouldn’t get the work done and this fence wasn’t going to repair itself.  He let himself fall back into a rhythm with the post hole digger.  Down with a ‘Thup!’, wrench it back and forth, spread the handles to capture some dirt and back up with the sibilant sound of dry dirt across metal blades.   ‘Thud!’ as the weight of it hit the ground next to the hole, where a small pile was building up.  The sweat was building up, too.  Trickling down his back, puddling at his belt line, running off his head like a spigot.  He’d almost given up trying to wipe it from his face, the sleeves of his work shirt were soaked already.

The next ‘Thup!’ went down as usual, but right when he was ready to pull the last load of dirt out of the hole, he was hit full in the back by something that felt as hard as concrete.  The concrete broke up quickly and drenched him, splashing up across his head, knocking off his hat, and running down his body to pool up in his boots.  The sensation of bracing cold took his breath away for a long second and he stood still, relishing the feeling.  He turned around quickly, to discover the source this surprise shower.

“Oh, girl, now you’ve done it!”

Kate was standing there, holding the bucket, laughing so hard she’d started to snort, “Ha! You look me in the eyes and tell me you weren’t just thinking about how nice it’d be to cool off!”

And he did look right at her and when she saw the look in his eyes, hers became wide.  In two giant strides, he was reaching for her and she barely avoided his grasp, turning on her heel and running for the barn.   He could have caught her quickly, but this was the most fun he’d had all day, no reason to rush it.

She tossed the bucket back at him, buying herself a few seconds, as she dashed around toward the far side of the barn.  By the time he came around the corner, she was out of sight.  He stopped, breathing hard, smile on his face and eyes searching.  Ahhh.. there she was.  He could see her boots under a stall wall about half way down the stable.  He chuckled quietly to himself and walked to the hose stand.  Kinking the hose, he turned on the water and walked as quietly as possible toward that stall.  Rounding the corner, he opened up the stream, hitting her square in the chest.  She shrieked and then came at him.  For a few minutes, they wrestled for control over the hose, both becoming soaked in the process.  She was stronger than he’d remembered, those weightlifting classes at college were making a difference.

Jude realized he was gonna have to play dirty if he was gonna keep her from turning that hose back on him again.  He pushed his thigh between her legs and lifted upward slightly.

The hose dropped to the floor, water still pouring out, making a mess they’d have to clean up, later.  She shifted her weight, spreading her knees so he could stand between them.  There was a sudden heat between them, contrasting with the drenching cold they’d given each other moments before.  Her hands went around his waist, his hands went to the top of the stall wall, his hips slowly and rhythmically pressing into her.  She sighed and met his lips.  She kissed him on the  mouth, then across his cheek until her face was nestled in the crook of his shoulder.  She could smell his musky odor, the salt on his skin.  He tasted like sex and heat and long summer nights.  She wrapped one leg around his hips, pressing urgently against him.  It was late afternoon, the other hands would be riding back at any moment.  They had to be fast.

He responded to her, moving in a way he knew would bring them both to climax quickly.  He pressed his face against her damp hair, smelling roses and light sweat.  How many nights did he lie in bed conjuring up that smell?  She groaned into his shoulder, shuddering and crying out softly seconds before his muscles grew rigid and he pulsed his orgasm into her.

She softened into him.  He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up and holding her tightly.

“They’ll be back soon, baby” he murmured into her hair, nuzzling her.

She sighed her agreement and wrapped her legs around him, squeezing him in return.  As they broke their embrace, and she pulled his face down for a last kiss.  ”We’d better turn off the water and clean this up, it’ll be hard to explain, lover.”

She turned to walk back up to the faucet and he slapped her ass and watched her walk away, grinning big and giving her a low wolf-whistle for her efforts.

Yeah, they say you should write what you know.. does that apply to HNT photos as well?  If so, this picture meets the criteria, since I know plenty about getting wet…

Happy HNT, y’all

To see all the other HNT posts for the day, go to Views from the Back Row, from whence the HNT goodness has come.

This weekend, my house of worship was a lush green lawn under a majestic cherry tree.  My alter was two saw horses, upon which I laid my sacrifices.  The instruments of prayer were tape measure and carpenters pencil.  My ceremonial garb:  gloves, work boots and a ball cap.

My sacrificial objects were sturdy half sheets of plywood, destined for my attic, trimmed to fit by my circular saw.  In all 8 pieces of 2′ x 8′ plywood were lifted up into our attic and nailed into place.  with a few pieces of ship-lap fitted around a venting pipe, we gained almost 144 square feet of storage.  Much of it is under the slope of our hip roof, but even so, we’re almost giddy over how much more stuff we can store above our heads.

It was an excellent weekend to worship at the alter of home improvement… amen.

—

On Sunday, we all took an hour long drive to deliver ElderSpawn to Girl Scout camp.  She’s gone all this week, learning to canoe and getting lots of swimming time in and bonding with girls from all over western Washington.  We’re all missing her and hoping all is going well.  I’m sure she’s already made a whole new batch of best friends.  This Saturday, we’ll drive back up and attend the closing ceremony and get the whole scoop.  I’m really proud of my big girl.  She earned her way to camp through cookie sales and has been very excited about this opportunity.  It will be the longest time away from family and there aren’t even other girls from her troop there.  Can’t wait to give her a big hug at the end of the week.

–

As much as I talk up my love of family and promote myself as a parent and devoted family man, I’m fuck up sometimes when it comes to being a good co-parent with my wife.  On the drive back from camp, Mrs. Kyle and I had a chance to talk about just that.  She had expressed some serious frustration earlier that day about how ElderSpawn and I deal with the baby, and how that’s affecting her in a negative way.  She’s very conscientious about keeping the noise down when ElderSpawn and I are asleep, even if that means she’s dealing with the baby until 3 in the morning.  ES and I aren’t always as good at keeping the baby quiet in the morning, when Mrs. Kyle is trying to get her sleep.  That one of the very legitimate gripes she has.  She’s also asked before that we don’t consider her the default childcare person.  I am ashamed to admit that I gave that lip service previously.  Now I have a better understanding of what she means.  She means, just because she’s in the room with the baby, don’t assume we can all leave her to it for hours on end.  She’s got the baby all the time, she wants more of a break and I don’t blame her.

We had a good long talk, we did some strategizing and I did some apologizing.  We agreed that more communication was going to be a big part of the solution.  We need to be a little more open about who’s taking the primary responsibility for Little Bit at any given moment.  We need to recognize that even though I’m working 8 hours or more a day, parenting is 24/7 and neither of us should have to cover the entire shift of that work.   And, even though it’s work, I’m getting out of the house and interacting with adults.

On top of all that, Little Bit is a very different child than her older sister.  Whereas ElderSpawn was often content to play by herself and was pretty self contained, Little Bit seems to need an audience, or at least companionship, most of the time.  That old wiring, the old pattern of setting the baby to play and then stepping out of the room for a few minutes, doesn’t work very often with LB.  She notices almost immediately that she’s alone and heads for a baby gate to protest her solitude in high decibel screech that rivals members of the animal kingdom.  Now, to be clear, sometimes we’re gonna let that happen, at some point she’s going to have to learn that yelling at the top of her lungs isn’t the proper way to get what she wants.  However, the time to work on that lesson is not before noon.

The ElderSpawn was high maintenance due to her preemie entry into the world.  She was on a 3 hour feeding schedule until almost 2 years old, however, she was not prone to get into every fricken thing she could in order to wreak havoc on the household.  Little Bit is high maintenance because she’s always reaching above her head, trying to grab things she can’t see off of any horizontal surface she can reach with her scrabbling little fingers.  She’s always testing limits, boundaries and our ear drums.  And she does it with the most excruciatingly cute smile on her face it’s almost impossible not to laugh and smile back at her.

So parenting this new one, even though we’ve got 10 years of parenting experience, is a whole new ballgame.

–

Baby Funnies:  Little Bit is preternaturally motivated to getting certain items we generally keep from her.  One example is any of the remotes.  If you do step out of the living room for a moment, or even turn your back, she moves with lightening speed to the side table where the remotes are kept.  She usually gives herself away with a slightly insane and wheezy giggle as she snatches up her prey and begins to press buttons and conduct taste tests.  Last night she was playing with her back to the table and about 4 yards away.  My wife got up to change the tape in the VCR and before she could turn around again, Little Bit had a remote in hand.  That kind of persistent motivation will surely serve her well in life, but for now, it’s just going to drive us bonkers.

From Ang, the Sweltering Celt, on this week’s Microfantasy Monday theme:

88 is such an interesting number.  It could represent so many different things – four eyes, twice infinity, the speed we need to reach to go back in time…

And since I’m feeling pretty geeky tonight, your theme is going to revolve around something geeky.  Anything geeky.  Tweak it however you like.

—-

I was cruising into the station, about to switch from auto to manual when a voice came over my headphones.

“GQ515-oh.. GQ515-oh.. better trim that heat or we’re gonna have a situation down here.”

Even though most station traffic controllers use the same lingo and tones, certain voices stand out and this was a voice I always hoped I’d hear when I came into this station, so smooth and sultry it loosed all the knots in my body and tied a few new ones.

“Roger that, Station Boss, I’ll trim speed, but I’m still a bit hot… ” I drawled in response.

“GQ515-oh, I read ya, but if you can come in nice and easy, we’ll slide you right in with no complaints.”

Goddamn.. I swear, she tries to get me to crack up on air and it about kills me to hold back.

“Roger than, Station Boss, my slide in will leave no complaints, that’s a promise.”

It wasn’t long before I was strollin’ down my gangway, hoping for a hot shower and a long sit at the station cantina.  I was rounding the corner toward the locker rooms when I heard that distinctive voice behind me.

“GQ515-oh… I believe you promised me a slide in, Captain… “

I stopped in my tracks.

“… and this time, I’m gonna authorize a hot re-entry…”

“Flying” is the Microfantasy Monday theme for week 87 as posted by The Sweltering Celt.  This is what that theme inspired me to write:

I miss her.  My body and soul ache for her and it’s going to be weeks and weeks before I can hold her again.   I switch off the light and lie back, sliding one hand between my legs.  Pushing back the present, I reach for her through my memories, flying through time and across space.

I’ve made this flight enough times to visualize myself soaring above the clouds, looking down at the cities, towns and farmland below, seeing mountain ranges reduced to wrinkles in a green blanket.  Tracing the shoreline with my eyes, I look forward eagerly for the first glimpse of the runway.  I mentally fast forward.

…. her skin is smooth and warm and smells of roses.  My fingers make contact, running lightly from shoulder to hip as I slide into place behind her in her bed.  She sighs deeply and leans back into me.  I reach around her, palming her belly, then gently cupping a breast while kissing the back of her neck.  Her breathing speeds up a bit and she pushes her ass against my groin.

She’s coming out of her sleep, aware of my presence, “Baby? .. How?  …You’re here?”

“Yes, my love, I’m here… ” She shifts her body, rolling over so I can press my mouth into her lips and run my hand across her sweet skin.

No distance can keep me from her, I can close my eyes and fly to her, no matter where my body happens to be.

It’s time for some nekkidness around here, and some wetness too.. how bout some nekkid wetness?

Ok, technically, I’m fully nekkid but you can only see half of me and are you really gonna complain about broken rules right now?

(A note from Roxy – Wow!  Isn’t he so amazingly fucking hot?  And I’ve been in that shower, against those tiles, rubbing up against that skin to get it nice and “clean”…Yeah, sure, you all made fun of the math geeks back in school, but look at me now, suckers.  That incredible piece of meat is MINE.  Stick *that* in your homecoming dance.)

(A note from Kyle/Casey — oh, my, god.. am I the luckiest queer alive or what?  You know, I was not one of the cool kids in school, got picked on horrendously in junior high and was definitely an outsider. And now look at me.  A hot, gorgeous, smart, funny, mathy geek sex goddess is all over my bidness.  Ha! Tom C and Yolanda and Linda E and the other bitches.. you all can suck my dick.. actually, no, you’re not good enough to suck my dick.  And you can’t watch either, ha!  Anyway, what I mean to say is, I’m incredibly lucky to be loved and adored by Roxy, thank you baby.  Speaking of the unspeakably hot Roxy, check out her take on HNT Wet-ness, guaranteed to prevent dryness anywhere.)

Happy HNT, y’all

To see all the other HNT posts for the day, go to Views from the Back Row, from whence the HNT goodness has come.

“I want to know more about my father.”

She was looking up at me with those big, trusting blue eyes and a subtle but determined set to her jaw.  My ElderSpawn was brimming with curiosity about this guy who’d contributed to her genetic profile.  I grimaced a little at her calling him ‘father’, he’s at most her donor dad, but I decided I could take that up with her at another time.  As the conversation continued, she told me she’d been talking to her cousin about the fact that he knew of a half-brother he hadn’t met.  His dad had abandoned that child and his mother before meeting her cousin’s mother, my wife’s sister.  His father has a good relationship with my nephew, even if he lacks in responsibility most of the time.  This conversation apparently sparked speculation about Hazel’s paternal contributor and the possibility of siblings.  She asked me how many babies had been born from him in a week (that was her question, I kid you not).  I answered that he hadn’t produced that many babies, but there were others who had been born because he helped their mother’s get pregnant.  Her eyes got big.

“You mean, there are other’s like me? “

“Yes, there are some other children who are your half-siblings.  Would you be interested in knowing more about them?”

“Yes! I want to know about all my relations.”

I promised that her Mama and I would talk and let her know what we were going to do next.  I also promised her she could see the donor’s profile and learn more about him.  She already knows she can’t request to meet him until she’s 18, and then it’s up to him to accept the contact.  The fact of half-sibs is clearly an exciting development for her and something we’ve been preparing to talk to her about.  We already know of 3 other kids, 1 other girl and 2 boys.  Their moms have been in contact with us and each other.  Unknown to Hazel, she’s already met one of her half-sisters, when she and her mom and family came to one of our summer parties last year.  We moms were still being stealth about it because neither girl knew about donor sibs yet.  Also interestingly, we’re the only queer couple in this group.  We’re hoping Hazel can establish some kind of relationship with the other kids, what kind of relationship is up to them.  Some donor-siblings see each other as half-sisters and brothers, others see them more as cousins.

So here we are, on the brink of a brave new world, a world that includes more ‘relations’ for our daughter, and hopefully more friends and fun experiences.   I think 2 of the other sibs know about each other and are in contact through email and web cams at this point.  Their moms have been asking if Hazel would like to get to know them as well.  I’m sure it will be exciting for her, and, hopefully, not too overwhelming.  I’m glad she’ll have other kids she can talk to about being donor spawn.  She’s been talking a lot lately about feeling so different and not liking it.  She cites her glasses, future braces and her epilepsy as some of the differences.  She doesn’t bring up the fact that she has two moms and doesn’t know who her donor is, but I’m sure that’s part of the difference she’s been feeling.  I’m hoping that by meeting other kids who are not only like her, but related, she’ll feel a little less like someone on the outside.

In a parallel and synchronous development, someone on our lesbian moms email list was talking up a book by COLAGE specifically written for children conceived through donor insemination.  COLAGE, Children of Lesbians and Gays Everywhere, is celebrating its 20th anniversary this year.  The book is called COLAGE Donor Insemination (DI) Guide and it goes over all the basics of being a DI COLAGEr.  This past weekend we gave it to her, along with the long profile of her donor, which she immediately began to pour over, exclaiming over various details.  Since then, she hasn’t said much on the subject, but her usual method is to get information and mull it over for a while at her own pace before coming back for more.

—-

Our Little Bit won’t be asking about her paternal contributor for a while yet.  Right now her priorities are getting attention, practicing her monster noises and rehearsing for the next zombie walk.  This kid would be the most scary zombie, with her sweet, twinkly blue eyes, her dimples and her back-of-the-throat Linda Blair imitation. She gets crazy eyes, grits all 4 teeth together in a crooked grin and starts growling, while waving her arms in front of her and walking toward you with that funny, just-started-walking-after-being-in-a-coffin gait.   She loves, loves, loves playing catch-me and peek-a-boo, especially if I combine monster noises and goofy faces with those games.  She giggles, squeals and shrieks, and starts off at a quick pace that she can’t really hold yet… it’s a good thing she knows how to fall gracefully.   She is hilarious to tickle, so that is usually the reward of catch-me chases.  Eventually, I don’t have to move, I only have to reach out with grabby-hands and growl and she collapses in a fit of giggles and  contorts as if I were making actual contact.  She is my favorite form of entertainment.

She is two weeks shy of her first birthday and I’ve been thinking a lot about how much has changed in a year.  Roxy was reminding me of how stressed out I was a year ago.  We didn’t know when the new family member would come, we just knew it was soon.  I was a bit cranky about how much my life was going to change.  Mrs. Kyle and I had carved out a lot of freedom and flexibility, so this event was going to severely curtail our extra-domestic activities.  I was cranky about it, and worried about how it was going to effect my relationship with Roxy, and at that time, Amber.  I knew my time slices were going to become very thin, and that I would need partners with a lot of patience and flexibility.

I was also excited.  I thought maybe I’d get a son and that prospect thrilled me.  I began to remember all the fun of watching a person develop, of seeing their personalities emerge, of helping them discover the world.  I can only imagine what it was like to be along for that emotional roller coaster.  A year later, I’m happier than I could ever imagine.  I have a gorgeous primary family, with two beautiful girls and a wife whom I appreciate more every day.  I have Roxy, who is one of the best people I’ve ever known and who is an excellent partner, lover and soul-mate.  My life is pretty damned good.   A year ago I was a bit of a mess, now I feel balanced and stable and healthy.

I am very thankful for the wonderful people who make my life so good.

Thank you, Mrs. Kyle for bring the beautiful and entertaining Little Bit into the world.   Thank you for leaning on me when you’re tired.  Being needed is important, and it helps to know you trust me to take charge, to take care of you and the girls.

Thank you, ElderSpawn for being an excellent big sister, for working hard and being responsible and for also continuing to be your very unique, talented and loving self.

Thank you, Little Bit, for reminding me how wonderful it is to parent small human beings and for loving me so much.  I’m so excited to be a part of your life.

Thank you, Roxy, for your patience, beauty, tenacity and love.  You are the perfect person to be my partner in poly.  Our love continues to grow and every day you amaze me with your talent, honesty and strength.

Sometimes she blows me away, surprises me, ambushes me with love and praise and knocks the wind out of me… like this from last night:

Her:
… there’s so much I want to say
Thank you for coming down here
thank you for playing {super secret hobby} with me
thank you for putting up with difficult political situations to be with me
thank you for loving me and the things I do
thank you for doing yoga and letting me watch
thank you for being so sexy I sometimes think I’ll explode
thank you for being worth turning my life upside down
thank you for giving me a new sense of myself
thank you for understanding that I have kids and you have kids and so our time together is difficult at best sometimes
thank you for being compassionate and empathetic
I want you so much
every day, every hour
I love you more than I ever thought possible
and you have taught me so much
I would have been lost this year without you
you’ve stood by me
and loved me so fiercely
even when I’m all covered with spikes and spitting fire
but… to think I deserved it
I would’ve had to be the best person ever to deserve this
so someone’s obviously being nice
I adore you
I see you
and you are gorgeous
you are everything I want
you set me on fire
and you teach me and love me so well…I don’t want anything else

(she’s telling me this while we have our webcams up, and by this time, I’m wiping tears from my eyes)

I should say this all more often
so you’ll get more practice
I think it all the time
I just forget to say it out loud
sometimes I just say, “good morning, my love” for short

me:
honey, I know, I hear you even when you don’t do it in words
I do know, baby
you say it a million ways
your face says it
your smiles
your pictures
I can feel it at this distance

… and if there’s a ‘secret’ to why we are still together, why we still love and desire each other so fiercely, why we are willing to put up with the vast stretches of time apart, it is this simple thing:  we say ‘I love you’ in more ways that can be counted and we say it often.