Cat Skinner Club

More Mama Love

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From my girlfriend’s mama:

Three in the bed and the little one said “roll over, roll over”
They all rolled over and one fell out…
Two in the bed and the little one said “roll over, roll over”
They all rolled over and one fell out…
One in the bed and the little one said “ ROOM AT LAST”…

. .. I’m a sleep on the right side of the bed person…. Middle? – not in a million, trillion years…. I hear you!

Some of my best moments are when I am completely alone. That means I am not accountable to anyone for anything other than to please myself. Remember you too need alone moments and its OK to take them. That’s why partners go on vacation without the kids and away from family and friends.

Yours is a unique relationship and it may take considerable time to feel safe and believe that everything will work out fine. I’m guessing past relationships have taught you that separation can be nasty. I’ve had some experience with that myself. When the right partner came along and it felt so right, I did everything in my power to push it away. Fortunately for me I was not successful. We invest so much time and energy into building relationships that it becomes easier to run and hide and protect ourselves from hurt again.

Your fear may be based on being surrounded by love, whole and complete given freely. As you peel away the layers, the threat becomes greater and you feel more exposed, until you are warmed by the fact that your fear was ungrounded. The bottom didn’t fall out, you were still safely wrapped in understanding, compassion, support, patience and there it is again that word…. Love. You cannot be in a relationship with anybody without compromise.

My biggest fear in this relationship is that the one person who I care deeply about will be pushed to the background. Care taker? Provider? Taxi cab driver? (none of it my business or within my control to change – acceptance is key). There is more to be discovered. You echo my fears in yourself, interestingly I see you in the forefront leading the way.

You can’t change history, only embrace it, learn all there is to know and make new memories. I’m into instant gratification and get frustrated with process, it takes so long to get to the end and when you get there the marker changes so you move forward again through a different process. It’s a lot like piecing a quilt… I hate the process but love the end result!

What happens if one or the other decides they don’t want you anymore? What happens if you decide this is a bad idea and you have been a part of shaking up a generation’s perception of what a family structure looks like. What happens if this is the best thing that has every happened in your lives. What happens if the three of you balance your relationship better than any two-party relationship and become the envy of everyone around you. What happens if the world is changing and as I am discovering, your new relationship is no big deal, everyone is happy, best case scenario. What happens if the girls love you so much that it hurts. What happens if there is another baby/child brought into the family to shower with more love.

About the bed… the purpose is to get a “good nights sleep”, make that the priority – a little cuddle and then draw straws – adios, see you later, bon voyage, … I’d be moving to the futon, love, love, love it. … You can’t think straight or feel well when you are not well rested.

Post or not as you see fit.

God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference

Momma.

Family Day

LDFDC LOGO 2006 copy(1)

Today we decided to do family things. As a family. All five of us.

We weren’t able to spend Thanksgiving together this year, and though our separate celebrations were pleasant enough, it felt strange and a little sad to be apart. We won’t be doing that again. There comes a time for all of us, if we’re lucky enough, to be able to create our own primary family unit, and for my own well-being, I think the focus has to be on us first.  I think we’re all in agreement here. So we’ll have to hatch a plan for Christmas.

This morning we all got up slowly, then we toddled over to Fran’s for a late breakfast, and then took in Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs in 3d. The girls have never seen a 3d movie, and they were rocked to the core. At one point, the three-year-old reached over and said “Daddy, it looks like they’re in OUR world!”

During our brunch, my girlfriend got a call from her mom, who had finally opened the heartfelt email she’d sent on Friday. We were all on pins and needles, hoping she wouldn’t read it seconds before they arrived on her doorstep for Thanksgiving dinner. They had an epic, but lovely conversation where her mama basically told her that nothing had changed, she loved her just the same, and she was happy for her new found happiness. Her Facebook status today even contained the phrase “You learn something new every day, and it’s all good.” I can’t wait to meet this woman! She also invited me for Christmas day celebrations. I was so happy watching my girlfriend’s face while she spoke to her mother. It was easy to see the conversation was going well. As far as her dad’s concerned, her mom just seems to think that he’ll figure my boyfriend is the luckiest man in the world.

When I turned 30, my boss at the time took me to see an amazing psychic named John Pothia in Peterborough. I don’t put a lot of stock in these things, but it was interesting to hear what he had to say. In fact, it was a pretty incredible experience. He said a lot of very positive things, but two things in particular stand out these days.

Rather completely out of the blue he said “Straight, gay, it makes no difference and the sooner you stop worrying about this, the happier you’ll be.”

Then, at the end of the reading, when I asked him about children in my future, he said “I see you having one biological child of your own, but also other children in a completely unexpected way. Stepchildren, or something like that.”

These people are my family. Our bond gets stronger every day. Our older girl includes me when she speaks of “our family”, and whenever this happens my heart melts a little. My mother sent an email to my partners today wishing them a Happy Thanksgiving, which was really incredible, and next week we’re all piling into my little brother’s condo, so the girls can meet “my giant” (my brother is 6’7) and we can all just be together.

I would never have imagined this for myself. When I thought about my family unit, I always had a notion that it would be a little non-traditional, but I could never have conjured this. Yet somehow I did. We did. I took the time to heal my heart and my head, and here we’ve all found each other.

In restaurants, nobody stares. In our building, the concierge desk is manned by friendly, polite security officers who smile knowingly as we come and go. In the hustle and bustle of this big city we are just another unit of people, and to most of our loved ones, this is just another way to experience life and love.

It might be the greatest joy my life has ever known.

Keeping It In The Cupboard

This is the first image I found when I Googled "inside the kitchen cupboard"

This is the first image I found when I Googled "inside the kitchen cupboard"

Last night I had a heart-to-heart with the male third of my triad. We launched into this seated on the kitchen floor, half tucked inside the cupboard where the Tupperwear is stored, because we were looking for suitable containers for the girls’ lunch.

I am the first in our triad to tell my parents about what is happening in my life. I decided to do this for three reasons:

1.) My mom can read my mind and would have very quickly figured out that something was up anyway.

2.) Once upon a time in my personal history I sort of ambushed her with really significant personal news. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time because she had so much on her own plate, but as it turns out, this is going to be on the very short list of things I regret, probably forever.

3.) My extended family has had WAAYYY too many secrets. My mom was open and honest with me about our family’s skeletons and stories from the time I was old enough to understand the answers to the questions I was asking. I’ve never lived with secrets myself, because I am convinced that they give you cancer.

I maintain that my partners should talk to their families when they feel the time is right. I really do think this is important, but part of me knows I can’t really settle into this, and really learn to feel secure until that hurdle has been met.

I’ve only met my male partner’s parents. Most of the year they live on another continent, but they’ve been in Toronto since August, and we’ve had three occasions now to spend time together. Usually in a crowded, noisy, fairly public situation. They think I’m a dear friend, and by some miracle, neither of the kids have said anything like “Are you gonna sleep over again tonight Schnoo?” or “Schnoo stays at our house all the time” in front of their grandparents. The current strategy is to have these folks get to know me as a Schnoo first, and then when the time is right, tell them the rest of the story. I am skeptical that there is ever a right time to tell your parents that you’ve taken on a second woman, who is a lover to your wife, and who you want to have more children with. Hmmm…

As for the kidlets, they also think I’m a dear friend who stays over. A lot. I suppose that’s right, isn’t it? I haven’t really stayed at the Fortress of Solitude for over a month. In November, the clan will head off continent to spend time with his family. Six weeks of time in fact. I think I’ve been stock-piling my time with them knowing how shitty November will be.

He might tell his parents in November.

So presently, as was the case last night, I am half in and half out of the cupboard. The result is a strange mixture of freedom and sadness. I just want to get it over with, you know? Face any impending shit storms head on. Engage in epic conversations with worried and angry parents now, and then really settle into my life. Our life. No more monitoring photos posted on Facebook by friends, no more pretending to sleep on the couch, no more worrying over what the children may say to their grandparents. I can make a home, we can make a home, both physically and emotionally, and that will be truly sweet.

This has made me reflect on my own familial relationships. My parents are clearly a huge influence in my world, because in my own head and heart I couldn’t really enter into this relationship until I’d told them what was happening. Maybe I seek their approval too much? Maybe I need to sever the umbilical cord, and trust that my decisions are 100% my own, and that my parents will love me whether or not they approve of my choices? I’m happy to report that I think they’re doing really well with everything, considering. My dad seemed his usual self when I finally saw him in person, and my mom, though still trying hard to understand, is making overtures of friendship and camaraderie with my partners. I’m really happy about this. Also, one of my aunts has been incredible, both as a supportive, non-judgemental ear for my mom, and an understanding confidante for me. It delights me that she can talk about God and the various ways that love can manifest with clarity and conviction.

Love like this has made me want to shout it from the rooftops, but that just isn’t very practical in such a situation. Instead, there is a particular Rubbermaid cereal container that I’ve been whispering my devotions into.

For You, And Anyone Else Just Like You.

Parrots
Hi Schnoo!
I just wanna say kudos for your bravery for stating exactly how you are feeling and what you are going through…it is not easy, and i am happy to see that you are happy!
I’ve been reading your blog for a while now, and you have definitely grown in the past year or so, and it has been amazing to read.  I found your blog through a friend of a friend of mine and yours, and I have loved the forray into your thoughts, because they are not unlike my own.  I was also married (too young) and divorced, and on a journey of self-discovery.  I have often felt myself that I am bisexual, and have never encountered anyone who can see themselves in a polyamorous relationship, so thank you for letting me see that there are more of us out there!  It is something that is never ever talked about freely in our culture, and me and my partner have always been interested in that, but we never knew if there were others out there who are open like that.  Thank you for opening up the dialogue on this issue, as I think that you doing so has started people on the acceptance route a lot easier than if you hadn’t.  Thank you.
In terms of how you met these two, was there a forum where you met, as me and my partner have been finding it extremely difficult to find anyone else out there who sees these types of relationships as okay?
Thank you for the past few months, as your journey has definitely been one that I have identified with.

I read this comment last night in a cab on my way to the Manuge et Toi fashion show/burlesque cavalcade (fabulous, by the way). It’s not at all surprising, here in Schnooville, to receive a note such as this after exchanging a lovely dialogue with my dear auntie about why I write here the way that I do. This lovely reader, who wishes to be anonymous, has said it all.

And so, to answer her questions…

I met my partners through a friend, at a show on the patio of the Cadillac Lounge in early July of 2008. Early July has always heralded magic into my life. It wasn’t until April of 2009 that we decided to really take a chance and try to explore our relationship in a new way.

Naturally, one of the first things we did was start to consult the Internet for additional information, resources, and other people like us. Sadly, there isn’t much out there, so I can completely relate to this reader’s frustration. I’m currently combing through the various websites, forums and blogs that I’ve discovered. As I find ones that are really compelling, I will post links to them here.

If any of you have links or resources that have been helpful to you, please post them in your comments.

To my reader above – a very sweet cyber-friend sent me this link:
http://www.torontobinet.org/events/bifriendly/elpg.htm

I haven’t yet been to an event, but I certainly plan to check it out.

Thank you for your very kind words.

x

Schnoo

Ten O’Clock is My New Bedtime

Lion or Ram?

Lion or Ram?

I am a lion, born under the sign of Leo. Not only am I a lion, but I am also a fire dragon, if you consult my Chinese astrological sign. However, at this particular moment, there is a three-and-a-half year old ram singing away in the bathtub who might be my most cunning adversary yet.

Tonight my girlfriend is playing baseball, and my boyfriend (yep, I do love saying that) is off in the United States of America with the six year old member of the tribe seeing to a spontaneous family affair. I am left alone with one who I have affectionately referred to time and again as Monkey.

For the most part, suddenly finding myself in the midst of an instant-family has been an incredibly smooth transition for me. I mean sure, I still have moments when I’m nostalgic for hours alone at my Fortress, sipping wine, and trying to ease the ache inside my heart with words. Words for you, words for me, just words. I miss solo strolls along Roncesvalles, choosing groceries for the one and only meal I would cook, just for me. Sniffing nectarines, selecting shiny apples, treating myself to a beautiful bouquet of flowers for my table. This was romantic, in its own right, but my partners have a very healthy sense of the importance of grown up time, so now life is a lovely balance of the domestic and well, that other stuff.

Monkey keeps summoning me to tub-side…

Apparently Monkey is now Kelpie the Mermaid, and would like to henceforth be addressed as such. I can’t stop calling her “buddy” and she completely hates it. I’m unaware in fact of how frequently I use this handle until she’s scowling and grunting at me “That’s not my name!”.

The girls have generally been very accepting of my presence here. They know I have my own home to go to (which I’ve seen very little of lately), but that I spend a lot of time with them, sometimes (and those are the best times) with Arthur in tow. Arthur is delighted with his new pack, and so patient and gentle with the girls. I can’t help but feel that Monkey/Kelpie is challenging me to see where I fit in. Although her ferocious moments aren’t just reserved for me.

I’m told that the terrible twos often bleed into a much worse reality called Three. I’ve started consulting the Internet for parenting advice, since my learning curve is steep. Don’t get me wrong, Monkey is generally beyond adorable – clever, saucy, so funny, and super smart, but lately things have been challenging. She’s bursting at the seams sometimes, I think. Requests are demands, objections are shrieks, grunts, sometimes outright hollers. Last night, while left to deal with dinner supervision, I witnessed her coat both her arms in sour cream, gripping the table with her bare toes while staring me down defiantly. It was about the tenth time she barked “NO” at me that I decided it was time to walk Arthur, and I left her in the more than capable hands of daddy. I don’t ever want to raise my voice, and I felt like I was at my limit.

She pushes as far as she can, and then repents with bitter tears and a string of “sorry! sorry! sorry!”. In those moments we hold her and tell her we love her, and try to patiently explain that we are a pack, and that we must all compromise and be considerate and respectful of the other pack members.

I feel deeply challenged. She is Alpha, like me. She is flexing her muscles for the first time, and the way we negotiate this, she and I, will set the tone for the rest of our existence together. I think it must be one thing to grow with a child since baby-hood, but this is unbelievably intimidating sometimes. I don’t let on about this. Not to her, not to anyone really. I’m afraid she won’t take me seriously, so I remain patient but firm. I walk away from tantrums, I encourage quiet moments, and creative ways for her to take on responsibility and express herself to the rest of us. I stare her down calmly when she’s smearing herself with condiments.

At bedtime tonight (which happened before 9pm, I am proud to state) she insisted I stay and snuggle for a bit, which I was delighted to do. I tried to calm her by singing to her, and this actually worked. Her current favourites are Somewhere Over the Rainbow, which apparently she heard from me first, and Riverwide which she couldn’t possibly realize is actually a Sheryl Crow tune. Singing in soft, dulcet tones with her little fresh-from-the-bath smelling sweet self curled up beside me, tucked under my chin was the kind of heaven I’ve only dreamed of up until now. Soon she was sleeping, and after several moments, I untangled myself and stepped carefully from the room. This resulted in her waking almost immediately and shrieking indecipherable things at me. I attempted to calm her, but when the air-kicking started, I backed slowly out of the room with a “Goodnight Monkey. I love you, but I’m not going to listen to this.”

As it turns out, I’m in love with four people. One of them really likes to arm wrestle, and victory tastes sweet for both of us. She’s fast asleep now, and in the morning, she will cry out my name when I emerge from the bathroom and join her at the breakfast table, as if she is surprised and delighted to always find me there, despite knowing each night that I haven’t gone back to my own house.

And so tonight, the lion is victorious, and with my sleepy tawny head propped up by a pile of pillows, reclining on the sofa, I’m trolling the internet for the lyrics to my favourite songs from when I was a kidlet. I’m keeping Puff The Magic Dragon in my back pocket for emergencies only.

Stay tuned for stories of Barcelona…and hopefully photos!