"Knocked Up"

I feel the need to switch gears a bit, and so I thought I'd ruminate on Knocked Up, the film Trillian and I went to see just over a week ago. Before saying too much, however, I find it necessary to point out that Trillian and I both, in the depths of our hearts, are probably 14-year-old boys. And while we do not rush out to the theaters to see, for instance, every new Will Ferrell movie, you can bet they make it into our house eventually.

I should also add the disclaimer that we are Apatow fans, by means of Freaks and Geeks. Still pissed that they canceled the show! I think that he is particularly skilled at capturing life in all of its painful glory. And even when the premise might seem impossible, he doesn't have to push reality too much to make it work (e.g., 40-Year-Old Virgin and what kind of loser would still be a virgin at 40? And yet... I bought the explanation).

You have almost certainly heard the set up at this point: Alison, who has just been promoted to an on-air spot in the entertainment industry, goes out to celebrate and ends up having a one-night stand with Ben. Due to a misunderstanding, birth control falls by the way and 8 weeks later...

I was cracking up from the very beginning. First shot: the driveway of Ben's house with a couch, ping-pong table, and lifeguard's chair (which serves as the judge's seat for ping-pong matches). I had to keep myself from falling out of my chair. I know these people. OK, that was a little different, two couches on the porch (which eventually collapsed), less pot, more beer. But from just those few broad strokes, I understood Ben's world. Legally adults, he and his friends spend most of their time avoiding the title.

This world is juxtaposed with Alison's. But one thing I think many critics are missing is that she occupies a similar position in her world. She has a job, does it well, and has a promotion to show for it. But she lives in her sister's guest-house and is obviously not ready to sever that tie. Sure she can be the helpful aunt and take the kids to school, but that only makes it clear just how unprepared she is to be a parent.

One of the main criticisms I have seen of the movie is that it is highly unlikely that such a beautiful woman would end up with such a "schlub." I will definitely grant that Katherine Heigl is very good-looking. But in the movie, it's something required of her job and she's frequently done up by hair and makeup people. And it's not like Seth Rogen is ugly, as the criticism tends to imply. He is cute and a bit unkempt, but the kind of guy who would clean up nice. There's one promotional pic going around that I think captures the fact that there isn't the huge gulf often suggested. They are sitting in the waiting room, side-by-side, not looking at each other. Her hair is pulled back and she's wearing a basic polo shirt. Still good looking, but not quite so far out of Ben's league in my view.

Another thing that comes up time and again is the "glossing over" of abortion. I don't want to get into a huge thing here, but my counterpoints boil down to:

1. If Alison had gotten an abortion, it would have been a very short movie.
   
2. And let's face it, pregnancy hormones and delivery have greater comedy potential.
3. Some people have locked onto the conversation Alison has with her mother. At one point the mother mentions a cousin who found herself in a similar situation: "She had it taken care of and now she has a real baby." Although the word "abortion" is not spoken, the reference is clear. And yes, the line made me gasp, but I also read it as a revelation of the mother's character and the amount of support she will give to Alison, not as a grand statement on abortion.
4. Although the pregnancy might have a negative effect on the trajectory of her career, I can understand why Alison decides against an abortion. She's in her mid-20s and has already worked on her career--and the unexpected pregnancy means reevaluating her perspective on what's important.

The last thing I just have to say something about is Rebecca Eckler's recent accusation that Apatow and Rogen stole the idea from her book, also titled Knocked Up. Her book (apparently, since I haven't read it) recounts her experience getting pregnant just after her engagement party. She says that what convinced her was the fact that Alison is an up-and-coming journalist, as Eckler was. Never mind that they're in different fields (entertainment vs. print--and Alison is based in LA where everyone's in LA). Oh, and her fiance was also a Canadian Jew. Never mind that Rogen himself is a Jew who was born in Vancouver--they couldn't have gotten the idea from that. But I think the best take on this is a Toronto Star column by Patricia Pearson (not sure if registration is required, but take a look)! Pearson has written a novel, Playing House, with a plot that matches Knocked Up (the movie) even more closely, yet she has no plans on suing. As she points out, there are certain elements that are great comic fodder and it's probably all coincidence.

And it is definitely the case that Knocked Up frequently taps into emotions that many of us can relate to. As Trillian and I noted, there were certain points where we could tell who in the audience was a parent, because their laughter rang louder at things that elicited little reaction from the younger crowd. Nor does the movie gloss over fears and frustrations--though it does usually manage to twist them for a laugh. These probably hit me harder than most other people in the audience, and I found myself close to tears over things like the ultrasound images, but it was also cathartic to both laugh and cry so freely.

It says something that Trillian and I still are talking about this movie, a week after seeing it. This will make it to our DVD collection.

Blindsided, part 2, and regrouping

This is what I wrote Thursday afternoon after reading the post Trillian had sent to me:

I knew that Scooter's speech therapist was having another therapist come to his session this week--Trillian had told me that the time had been moved back a little to accommodate the other therapist's schedule. I didn't think twice about it, because at this point I'm used to doctors and therapists wanting to consult with a colleague or give a student some experience. Neither of us even thought to ask why.

And so I was dumbfounded when I checked in with Trillian after I was done teaching and found out that the therapist had gone through the M-CHAT and felt strongly enough about the results that we were suddenly getting a referral to a developmental pediatrician--something we had asked for four months ago when we first found out about the process for evaluation here, something we were dissuaded from and made to feel was unnecessary.

It is still possible that we are just looking at sensory issues. All kids with ASD have SPD, but the converse is not true. And the provincial occupational therapist said to Trillian a couple weeks ago that sometimes kids with SPD act just plain weird, because they are so overwhelmed by the world around them. Sometimes "weird" can manifest itself as behaviors that look like ASD. (Of course, by the end of the appointment, during which Scooter refused to utter a single word, she said she'd talk to our current service providers to determine is we need further testing.)

I comfort myself with the reminder that the most likely course of action for a high-functioning autistic child would be speech and occupational therapy--exactly what we've got him in now. And if we can get his sensory issues under control and help his verbal expression catch up with his thoughts, we'll then be able to sort out what else exactly he needs.

So now there is a greater urgency for us to figure out where we will be for Scooter's schooling. And then to make the move a reality. Short of finding out that there are no services available in my in-laws' state, that is where we want to be. They are on-board for homeschooling or whatever other support we might need. Living near them has always been an attractive proposition; now it may be our lifeline.

After a couple days to digest all of this, I feel I should add that we're moving past the initial moments of sadness, just as Trillian said she would in her post. And I'm able to recall something we had said to each other as Scooter got started in OT a couple months ago: While we might not have fully ruled out autism at that point, it would be OK if we didn't get that figured out for a bit longer since OT would be one of the first things suggested anyway.

I think that what this new development has done for us is make more concrete the likelihood that things won't necessarily be "all better" in time for kindergarten at age 5. We've both said all along that we want his earliest school experiences to be positive, so we also realize that this makes it more likely that we'll give homeschooling a chance, coupled with the therapies and controlled opportunities for socialization. Gives me something new to research, and I like to have a purpose.

Blindsided

Trillian wrote this today as she wrestled with information we got yesterday. I've written a couple things too, but was preparing to give an exam today, so I still need to work on articulating my thoughts.

I've been crying off and on since last night. Grieving since yesterday afternoon. Scooter's MCHAT (Modified Checklist for Autism in Toddlers) assessment yesterday at speech therapy showed him to possibly be in the mild to moderate ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) range. That result is so bittersweet. We've been trying to get him assessed since he was 2 and I've had concerns since he was 14-16 months and still not walking. He's 4 yrs 2 months now. It took more than 2 frakking years to get anyone to take us seriously, to actually listen to us. I am both grateful and raging. Why the hell did it take so long? Why on earth were we forced to try to become experts in developmental disorders just to figure out what therapies we could get for him ourselves without a doctor's referral? No one should have to go through this. The woman who did the assessment yesterday looked at me and said "You should always trust your gut. It's seldom wrong!" I wanted to scream "I did trust my gut! No one else would!" As if somehow we could have gotten faster treatment if only I had listened to my gut. Lady, my gut has been screaming for 2 + years and I've been listening, where the hell were you!? We saw three different pediatricians (2 US, 1 Canada) who all told us to "wait and see, he'll probably grow out of it." Three doctors it's not like we only took him to one doctor and threw up our hands for f*&% sake! And then trying to find help in a foreign country, hell just trying to figure out what help to look for, was more than a little challenging. When your son's "symptoms" don't fit the profile of anything you're finding online. When they only vaguely seem a bit similar to a few of the lesser symptoms of an ASD, what the hell do you do then? I mean, I'm not a doctor! How the flying f*&% am I supposed to know what's going on. I know I'm worried, but when I tell a pediatrician that, it's immediately poo-pooed as just the usual parent anxiety. Anyone with kids will tell you that the second you say you're worried about little Johnny to your Pediatrician, they'll pat your hand and tell you everything is fine and all parents worry. Have doctors just completely forgotten (or have they never been taught) how to observe their patients, how to gather diagnostic information that is not based on lab results? Apparently, they have and it's causing real pain and problems for their patients. I am mad as hell. I am frustrated as hell. I feel guilty as hell for not being even more of a pain in the Dr.'s ass than I already am. And I am grieving.

I know that sounds strange. He is not going to die from this. But I am grieving for what I thought was going to be his life, his path. I am grieving for how I thought his life would progress. The dreams I had for him and for us. I've let the grief wash over me, pass through me, inhabit every cell. I've allowed it in and allowed it to wallow around in my consciousness. Why? Because it's necessary. I have to mourn the dreams and thoughts of the future I had for him. It's the only way to let them go, clean them out, so they can be replaced by his new path, his reality, his new future. A future which frankly may not be all that different from the one I had envisioned but we won't know that for sure for quite some time. It's best to let the concept I had of his path and future go to allow for this new situation. So I am allowing the wallow, but Grief, you're on notice. You have approximately 12 hours left to wallow before I grab you by the scruff and chuck you out the nearest mental egress. I need to tidy up a bit in there before I put the new plans and promises of a new future in place, so I can't have you mucking about for too long.

We have a lot to think about, a lot to plan for and a lot to do in the next few weeks to help make the next few years as productive as possible. We have to figure out whether we want him labeled, which will depend a lot on the actual assessment by the Dev. Pediatrician. If we are looking at high functioning/mild, maybe not. If we're looking at moderate, maybe so. We have to determine where to live so that he gets the most support (both familial and government based) that he can possibly get. Apparently, none of his therapy would be covered in the US or Canada. So staying here doesn't help us a damn bit and we're hundreds of miles away from the nearest familial support. Treatment would cost us the same out of pocket regardless. He might be eligible for assistance in school with a label but the type of "help" he may get may not be appropriate for him. So maybe homeschooling is the best option. Tons to think about and plan for, no time for bull sh*& wallowing. So Grief, don't get too comfortable, you're not a long term guest.

Global Warming Wednesday: Seeking inspiration

I have been a little down lately--just in general. It doesn't help that I'm only a day or so from PMS becoming full-on M, making this one of my worst hormonal days anyway. But we're also trying to balance planning for next year and some unexpected bit of news today (related to Scooter and his diagnosis/therapy, doesn't change anything, but possibly requires a shift in thinking and gives us an impetus to make sure we really get things sorted for next year). Still digesting that, though I'll probably write something on it soon.

Even before that, however, I was wondering what I might write about today. I'm not exactly stalled out--I'm doing my best at maintaining everything I've set in place so far--but I haven't been particularly inspired.

So of course it is timely that No Impact Man's last two posts have spoken to the core of the issue. In Why Bother, he responds to a reader's question:

We seem to be a pretty tenacious lot, we humans, and wouldn't it be best to realize that we can't save everybody, that some of us will survive the lack of ozone, and just let the chips fall where they may?

Part of his answer points back to a post in which he uses the starfish story (which makes me tear up just a little every time I encounter it--yes, it's sappy, but it makes a powerful point). He ends his answer by saying:

The question is: when things seem futile, do I want to be the kind of person who lets the “chips fall where they may,” or do I want to be the type who tries to do something anyway?

This post is a strong reminder of why I decided to renew my commitment to lessening my environmental impact.

His post today is titled Why I make environmental action personal. Had he not published yesterday's post, I'd probably be feeling worse right now. He cites a number of articles: brings up the White House's new global warming "initiative" and how it achieves nothing; another refers to a poll demonstrating that most Americans' commitment to stopping climate change is superficial; a third discusses just how much faster warming is occurring than was predicted in years past. Yet this all ties into the why of why it needs to be a personal action: If we wait for the government to "fix" things, it will be too late.

When I combine the two posts, some of the anxiety-producing urgency (or is it urgency-producing anxiety?) remains, but it is tempered by the conviction that this is something I find important. And I realize that I, alone, can't make all the difference, but at least I'll have done something.

At the movies

Trillian and I have always lived a somewhat quiet lifestyle. Not many parties, late nights, fancy restaurants, etc. Some spontaneity, but we agreed that having a child would not require us to give up anything we would sorely miss. Our biggest sacrifice, I joked, would be going to the movies on a whim.

Which has turned out to be fairly prescient. We weren't frequent movie-goers even before Scooter, but it was something we tended to do spur-of-the-moment. Nowadays, the need to plan, find a babysitter, and then pay many dollars an hour tend to limit such outings.* So when we see movies in the theater, it tends to mean one of three things:

1. Grandma and Grandpa are around (here or at their house) and have insisted we get out for a bit.
2. Scooter's in daycare when we find ourselves with shared time off.
   
3. We've split showings. Sometimes it's back-to-back showings, sometimes it's two days in a row.

The problem with #1 is that we can't be sure a movie we really want to see will be playing. But at least it's some time out--plus the grandparents don't mind if we hang out a bit before or after.

#2 is very nice when things align, especially if those 'things' include a movie we want to see. That worked for Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. We were sharing the theater with a large number of school groups, but they were fine once the movie started. This summer, however, this plan will rarely work for us. I teach four afternoons a week; on the one afternoon I do have off, I take Scooter to OT. Now if a theater wanted to show movies at 10 am during the week, we'd be there!

Strategy #3 is employed for those movies we really want to see. And cannot stand to wait until #1 or #2 can be worked out or until it comes out on DVD. Sure we don't have the experience of sitting together and exchanging glances or whispers (very quiet, I promise). And whoever sees it first has to keep quiet about it for a bit; even harder, she then has to remember what she wanted to say. But these are movies that need to be seen in the theater.

The first movie we saw this way (I think) was Return of the King. We had seen the other two in the theater--I even sat through all of The Two Towers in my third trimester without getting up for the bathroom once! We each went back to the same theater for the third movie--gorgeous old theater, excellent view from the balcony--on a Saturday and a Sunday.

Another movie we did this way was Serenity. Firefly had been our favorite series when it was on and we lamented its early cancellation. We have it on DVD, but with only 13 episodes we were dying for more from Mal and his band. Plus, the buzz online was that a good enough early showing might bring about funding for another movie. Because of the timing of other things, Trillian took the 7 pm showing, I got the 9:30 showing. Needed an extra latte to make sure I was awake from the beginning, but once it started there was no chance I'd fall asleep. Very disappointed that it's unlikely there will be another.

This past weekend, we did the closest thing possible to a spontaneous trip to the movies: we decided, on that very day, that we would take in back-to-back showings of Knocked Up. It was a good choice and we both enjoyed ourselves immensely. A little alone mommy-time for each of us and fodder for discussion and laughs afterwards.

So maybe it's not quite the same as before Scooter, but it definitely works.

* We have done this, most notably for Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. One of my students was our regular babysitter then (not something I usually would have done, but we started using her before she was in one of my classes, because Trillian met her through a team I coached and fully approved of her). I felt a little silly telling my student what we were going to see--but she liked the series too.

Weighing options

I am currently frustrated as I try to figure out how to arrange things for next year. The timing of my previous pregnancy was perfect. Sure, I might have been taking an exam at 8+ months pregnant, but then I'd be at the perfect spot to take a little time for myself, leisurely begin the next batch of studying for my program. And then taking my final seminar in the spring, along with the last exam--sometime in the summer--before entering the dissertation phase. While the miscarriage remains a loss I feel in my marrow, I am also frustrated that my plan is now impossible.

My original new plan was to wait until August to start trying again so that I would be due in May, after the end of my seminar. I'd still be able to take my final exam before the end of the summer and maintain the basic structure of my plan. But there are a few things that keep me from being fully satisfied with this:

1. We've pretty much settled on moving to a small town near my in-laws. I have a pretty good shot at a job in that area, if not in the 2008-09 school year, then the year after. And even if I didn't get that job, we've talked about me piecing together work (high school, tutoring, whatever) so that we could live so close to Grandma and Grandpa.
   
2. We've also fallen in love with a house there. Which has us itching to be able to move forward. And so we're debating about how soon we could swing a purchase before moving there permanently.
   
3. But one wrinkle is that we will most likely need to stay here until after the next baby's birth (at least until we can get a birth certificate so that we can cross the border). There was a point where we thought Trillian might have a job that would include US health coverage for me, but that didn't come together. And any insurance I might be able to get would require a one year wait before maternity coverage would kick in (including my potential job's insurance).
4. So if I wait until August to begin trying, but it takes me three or four months again, I wouldn't be delivering until the end of the summer--and we'd still have to wait several weeks, even with expediting everything possible, to get the necessary paperwork to move with the baby.
5. But if I begin trying ASAP, I might deliver in the middle of my seminar, as early as March--and the course will run through the third week of April, plus have a paper due sometime after that.

So I'm feeling stuck. Here are the different sides of the two biggest issues (the job and house are big too, but those are less debatable and more wait-and-see):

• In terms of seminars, I could go ahead and take one offered in the fall. That would mean another history seminar. Five total seminars are required; I've already taken two in history, despite being a literature person. I'm a little concerned about what one more would look like on paper. Plus it would mean starting up a seminar while finishing with an exam (possibly in my first trimester). In contrast, the one I intend to take in the spring is in literature and on an author I like. On the other hand, if I take a seminar in the spring, I'll be done with them sooner. And for the job I might get, the balance of my seminars wouldn't matter (it would just be an issue if I tried to switch jobs later).
  
• In terms of the pregnancy, I'm impatient now. I've been tracking my ovulation the past couple months and itching to make the drive to Buffalo each time I watched the surge come and go. If the next time were to come on a day when I could take that amount of time and things worked out, I would be due in March. Even with the wait for bureaucracy, we could get everything together by sometime in May (plus that would allow for some healing time for me). I could fly back up for the exams. If I have the fall seminar, there would be no problem with the timing for school; if I were taking the literature seminar, however, I would have to miss at least a little class time, not something that is generally accepted at this level, making the wait to August preferable.

And so I find myself debating. Start now or later. Suffer through another history seminar so I can check of a requirement sooner or wait for the one that I will enjoy and that might even have a small tie into my dissertation. I already know which way I'm headed on each of these and how I would/should handle things with the department.

But it helps to sort them out here--and I certainly won't reject any weighing in that others might do.

Blogging for LGBT Families--Today and Everyday

Today is "Blogging for LGBT Families Day" and Mombian is keeping track of posts over at her place. In yesterday's post, I talked about the second-parent adoption that gave our family legal status. But if you look back through my archives, you'll see that I've frequently written about being a lesbian parent and the issues that brings up. And since I have always spoken about my family in a straightforward manner, any post about family events is, by definition, also a post about gay parenting.

Since I'm about two months shy of blogging for a year, this is the first "Blogging for LGBT Families Day" I've participated in, and I thought I would share some of the pieces I've written that touch on the topic.

In August, Her Bad Mother wrote about trying to express how her love for her daughter existed on a physical level; she called upon her readers to help her in this. And so I responded with My missing piece. Soon after, she had another post citing an email she received from a non-bio mom and the sorts of fear being in that position created for her. The post resonated strongly in me, in part out of sympathy for my wife, but also because I recognized some of that fear as coming from being a lesbian mom. My reaction was Fear of the (other) mother.

In response to another call to action from HBM, I wrote about how important gay rights are to me as a means for Protecting my family. And then in February, to mark both "Freedom to Marry Week" and my wedding anniversary, I wrote On marriage. There's also a lighter post figuring out What's in a name when there are two mommies.

Of course, the topic of being a lesbian-headed family has a tendency to creep into other posts, such as an answer to Sandra's question of what I'll miss most about Canada. And the fact that Scooter has two mommies is apparent in most family-related posts, from co-sleeping to his move to a big boy bed. Maybe I'd feel a little more revolutionary if Thomas the Tank Engine didn't make so many appearances.