I’m a Princess Dammit!!!

Princess Tiana Toddler Bedding SetSooo…it’s be a little while since I’ve written anything of substance.  Did I forget?  Did I run out of things to say?  Nahhh, I was just busy with life over the holidays, and decided to take a little break.  I’ve shared before that Fab and her brother were adopted, and so we spent a week looking after two foster kids who had been severely abused.  While we may continue to do this kind of thing in a pinch we also realized that our family, with all its color, is good at two kids and two parents.  While we had intended to expand our family, we always said we would not do so if it would impact our children negatively, and after having other kids in the house, we realized it would not be in Fab and her brother’s best interest.

Fab appears in a pretty good place at the moment, and is forcing Mom to be girlier than I can remember her being for several years.  I think pedicures are on the agenda very soon, and further evidence of this is in the picture above which is a variation off of the room that Fab, her mom, and grandmother are planning for Fab, because she needs a princess bed (any canopied bed), after all, as the title says, she’s a princess dammit!

I’m guessing others of you with trans-daughters deal with this attitude, but for Fab she doesn’t need to say she’s a princess, she just acts the part and we constantly battle to reign her in.  She is often seven going on 13, especially with Mom.   Her attitude and feisty-ness are crazy, as is her need to constantly have someone pay attention to her.  She can be sweet, caring, and thoughtful of others (which is what is keeping her alive).  She can also be as nasty as a spitting cobra if the mood strikes her.  Just the other day she got into it with her brother, who kicked out one of her top teeth after she kicked him in the face (it was already loose).  To be fair, it was payback for two teeth of his she had kicked out a few months back.

On another note, Mom has finally shared about Fab with all the family members that she cares to, and again we have been very lucky on this count.  Love wins out again.  Fab’s 90 year-old great-grandmother couldn’t have cared less.  She said as long as Fab’s happy that is what matters, and then asked if she could send her some dresses, which the princess would never turn down.

Mom also informed me that a certain little girl is dying for me to take her on a Valentine’s Day date.  She wants to go for a “fancy” dinner and to get flowers.  Fancy means somewhere they give you a salad before the entree.  She already has a dress for Valentine’s Day, and so she has to have somewhere to wear it.  I think I have the perfect place in mind for us to go.

As of late I find myself watching her mannerisms, wondering what kind of woman she will grow up to be.  The way she sits, walks, talks, gets excited, fights with her mom, dances, and unconsciously twirls her hair while thinking.  She’s also moving from little kid to big kid, as her favorite shows go from animated to live action shows such as “Liv and Maddie” and “Girl Meets World.”  We know she did not choose her gender, and her mannerisms only go further to confirm this fact.  Sometimes it is hard to believe that it has only been a little over two months since her full social transition, and she is still sorting out her expression, but in my mind it seems like it has been far longer than that.

For now she is just a little girl.  The term “trans” has no real meaning in her world.    She simply doesn’t think of herself that way, and has not had a reason to as of yet.  We are thankful that so far she has been able to exist in a bubble of sorts, but we can’t wonder who or what will break that bubble.  We know something will pop it for her, and we only hope we are there to shield her as much as possible when it is broken.

Perhaps it is the impending inauguration that has me thinking more on this issue as of late.  Trump’s election has given license for far more nasty to come out of people and I don’t want my baby girl to be the target of it.  Other than friends from school, we are left to wonder how neighbor kids would be if we let her go out to play with them.  They knew her before and we know parent attitudes are mixed, and even those who say they support our decision leave us wondering if they really see her as a little girl like their own daughters.

To those Fab knows, she can be off the wall precocious, but to those she is just meeting, Fab is unbelievable shy.  As parents it is exhausting to constantly be on guard, not only for her but for those that might pick on her brother as well.  This is where parents of cis-gendered children cannot possibly understand what we go through, or the worries for the future we have.  I guess, for now, we’ll continue to take it a day, a week, a month at a time.

For now, Fab is looking forward to being able to switch her earrings, Valentine’s Day, playing soccer with her brother, and going backpacking with me this year.  In the mean time, she has her crafts, tv shows, trampoline, and playing video games with her brother.  I guess living in the moment isn’t such a bad things for her.

Here is to hoping 2017 ends up being a good year for us all!


Sharing is Caring

keep-calmSleepovers are a right of passage for so many kids throughout the country.  Girls often start having sleepovers at a younger age, but boys eventually get in on the action as well.  For most parents the worries stick to questions about the parents.  Will the parents be home?  Are the parents responsible?  Simply put, the overarching question is:  Can I trust them with my child?

Parents of transgender children are most concerned with the last question, and concern centers around the question of “What should I share?”  Now, all parents are free to decide for themselves on what to share with others.  This blog is from my perspective, and as such, is not a commandment all parents of transgender children have to follow.  Every family is different, and so a choice like this must be weighed by examining a variety of a family’s own circumstances.  I can only discuss our perspective as it relates to Fab, and from there we have to go with our gut that we have made the right choice regarding her well-being.

I have heard some parents say emphatically that it is no one else’s business what is between their child’s legs, and that their child is 100% stealth and no one else needs to know.  I agree in principle with their statement.  I don’t think other parents need to know what is between my daughter’s legs, and wish that the fact she lives as a little girl should be enough for other parents to welcome my daughter into their home simply because their daughter is friends with mine, but this scenario leaves out my biggest concern.

See, I am not worried about the other parents’ feelings.  To be honest, I couldn’t give two shits what they think of me as a parent, or if they are comfortable with my child.  However, I do care about what they think as it relates to my child’s safety.  Often times we don’t know the friends of our children’s parents that well, and in Mom’s eyes and mine we see this as a potential danger.  Now, for us the choice is simple.  Fabulous came out during the school year, so most kids know she was living as a boy before.  How many parents know this we are uncertain of.  Fab has participated in sleepovers with her best friend, and the mothers of both little girls who were also there know about Fab, and are supportive of her.  However, the day may come when she asks to sleepover at another girl’s house, and those parents may know nothing about Fab being transgender.  What will we do then?

Our stance is much like that of Jazz Jenning’s parents, and that is, the parents need to know.  I don’t know if these other parents are supportive of Fab’s right to exist, or if they are trans-phobic.  As her parent I control the narrative still, she’s seven, and so there is a level of protection that I still need to provide.  If we choose to keep quiet, and she goes over to her friends then we lose the narrative.  If over at a friend’s house and it comes out (someone walks into the bathroom and sees, or she says something, or it comes out another way) and the parents are trans-phobic, then we have placed our baby in the lion’s den, exposing her to God knows what until we get her home.  Sharing with the parents lets us know up front if Fab will be safe.  If the parents are not OK with it, then tears may result, but I’d rather tears for us saying no, then tears or worse, because of things other adults might say or do to my child while she is out of reach.  This rule also hold’s true if kids are to come over to our house for a sleepover.  I would rather a parent say no up front, then to have it come out later and find out people have been badmouthing Fab because we chose to keep a secret.

I would like to say we live in a world where if Fab says she is a girl then everyone would see her that way, but that isn’t the way the world really works.  I see a little girl, her mother sees a little girl, and for those who didn’t know her before, that is how she is seen by strangers.  It would be very easy to let the world see what they want, and in most situations that will be our approach, but as she gets older we want Fab to be proud of who she is, and never to be ashamed that she is transgender.  Of course, in a few years she will have a say in how she wants to be seen, and to what degree she wants to share her uniqueness.  For now, much is left to us, because she doesn’t care  about labels and she doesn’t worry about what the greater world thinks.

I could get into the whole dating issue, but she is only seven.  Suffice it to say that when the time comes we will also have the same rule for dating.  Until she is 18, anyone she might date should know she is transgender, as should their parents, for the same reasons outlined above.

For now, dating is far into the distance, and thankfully as of right now she only wants to do sleep overs with girls whose parents know she is transgender and love that she has the courage to be herself.

The Importance of Brother

sometimes-being-a-big-brother-is-even-better-than-being-a-superhero-quote-1I can still remember that day in 2011 when two toddlers, one just turned three and the other not quite two, came to live with us.  Their bond, even then, was unbelievably strong and their bond and love for each other has grown all the more stronger over the last five years.  At the time they were brothers, and Sport, our oldest, was so protective of Fab that it would take us almost a year to get him to relax fully and just be a kid.  His desire to protect his sibling hasn’t waned in the intervening years, and I think in many ways it has grown stronger.

When Fab’s genderfluidness really started to present itself, we asked Sport if he knew Fab was a girl on the inside, and in his usual casual manner he just nodded and said, “Yep.”  That one word exemplifies his response to Fab’s transition.  As we look at the two of them it doesn’t seem their relationship has been affected in the slightest.  Sport has Fab’s back.  He can pick on her and do all those things siblings do, but woe to the kid outside our family that tries the same thing.

Sport is one of the kindest children I have ever known, and I’m not just saying that because he is my son.  Sometimes I wish he would be a little meaner, a little more aggressive, but that isn’t who he is.  Instead, he is the kid that worries about those around him, asks for spontaneous hugs, and when he upsets us or others is so empathetic as to cry at the knowledge he has hurt or upset another.  He simply does not understand mean people, or why people would want to be mean in the first place.  In his eight year old mind people should just get along and be friends.  Fab could not ask for a better big brother.

This weekend Sport had a moment of mourning for the brother he lost.  He was entitled to this, and Mom and I were wondering when this would happen.  Since transitioning, Fab has rejected many of the things she liked as a “boy.”  This rejection also included things that they used to like to do together, and as a result it left Sport feeling sad on Saturday.

I only found out when Fab came to get pictures of her as boy to give to her brother so that he didn’t have to be sad.  It was a sweet gesture, but what Sport needed was to sit on my lap, cry, talk, and get a big dad hug.  Afterwards, Fab agreed to play video games with him, and his sadness was forgotten.  Sport is only eight, and doesn’t understand that Fab is finding her female self-expression.  She will come back to the things that she likes, but in the mean time it can leave Sport mourning the loss of his little buddy.  He has a right to his feelings, as we all adjust to our new normal.

It can be an easy thing to neglect your cisgender children during the transition of a transgender child.  With the myriad of new worries and concerns that crop up with the new normal of raising a transgender child, you can easily find yourself going overboard to establish normalcy for your transgender child while assuming all is fine with your cisgender child.  However, we all know the saying about “ass”uming anything.  It is still important to let our cis-kids know they are just as important, and to find special time for them as well.  This is especially true for younger cisgendered siblings that are incapable of understanding all the concerns we as parents might have.  To be fair, they shouldn’t have to.

Sport is only 15 months older than Fab, and we have put things in place to ensure he will know that he is just as special to us as his sister is.  As parents we can always find special time for each of our children, and they truly treasure such time.  We just have to remember to make this a priority for “all” our children, especially when there is a child that requires greater attention in the home.  We never want Sport to resent Fab, or us because of who she has revealed herself to be.  We should be able to celebrate both our children for their uniqueness and accomplishments, and we should always make sure they know how precious they are to us in their own ways.  It is a priority for us that we remember this, and my hope that once grown, Sport never feels he ever played second fiddle to Fab, because there is nothing second fiddle about my only boy.


My Wife Made Fab Trans?!?


If you haven’t figured out, my title drips with sarcasm, but it points to something that Fab’s Mom got to experience yesterday for the first time.

So, Mom went to pick Fab and her brother up from school, and she arrived at the same time that a neighbor of ours did.  The man in question is not a friend, or someone that we even really know, but we have seen him at the bus stop from time to time, and he has always been pleasant in the past.  I should clarify that we’re pretty sure he doesn’t know about Fab’s transition, or at least he didn’t until yesterday.

Fab came down the hallway rocking her jean shirt dress, leggings, and cowboy boots, and the man who had been smiling at Mom, looked at Fab, and then looked back at Mom.  When he looked back he was no longer smiling.  She had been waiting for a moment like this to happen, the moment someone would stare or act with hostility.  She had been ready to lay into the first person who acted this way, but after it happened she told me it didn’t anger her as much as she thought would.  Instead, it made her sad, and shocked her a little that a grown man would let what a child was wearing bother him so much.  Put another way,  it left Mom with a “what the fuck” feeling.  The man’s angry stare came with the unsaid accusation that “she” had turned Fab into a girl.  Mom said, if the guy had been Superman then her face would have had two holes from his heat vision.  After all, as many of us know, what other reason would Fab possibly have for being a girl?

Ladies of transgender children, I feel for you on this count.  After all it is always at your feet the blame is laid.  Often, this is done by people who haven’t been there to see the gradual changes in our children.  For Fab this has been a four year journey.  We moved very slowly, and only at her insistence.  People have no idea regarding our reality, and the only thing I can say is the dude is lucky I wasn’t there.

See, I was the first parent to accept that this was the direction Fab was probably heading.  Mom had a real hard time with it.  She was thrilled we had two boys and no girls.  She didn’t want girls.  Girls were hard, boys were easy, and she loved being the only lady among men.  Add to it that she was losing her baby boy, and she was in serious mourning for much of the last few months.  She didn’t want to talk about it, or learn about transgender issues.  She didn’t want to lose her son.

Now don’t get me wrong, Mom was always affirming and supportive.  She didn’t share her fears or sadness with Fab, those were conversations between husband and wife.  Fab never knew, and only after last week on vacation, did Mom finally say this week, that she only saw a daughter now.  The guy who glared at her didn’t know that.  He didn’t see my wife breakdown in tears during an argument we had about Fab.  The guy who glared didn’t see Fab breakdown, or the conflict within that she found a way to describe as her “boy and girl hearts.”  He simply saw a mom, with what he had known before as two boys, and we know where the assumption went.

For me, he’d say I was gutless, whipped, or that Mom must keep my balls in a jar, because after all, what real man would let his boy be a girl?  I would say a “real” man, a “real” father would celebrate his child finding herself.  Whether Fab is a boy or girl has no bearing on if I am a good father or a bad one.  How I treat her, accept her for who she is, teach her compassion, and how to be independent and confident makes me a good parent.

Am I a good father?  My kids tell me so.  This morning I got a “Daddy, you’re awesome.” from Fab, who is very stingy with compliments.  It was spur of the moment, and unexpected, which made it matter all the more, and reaffirmed we are doing the right thing as parents.

Mom and I know people will stare, and some will make comments.  To be honest, we have no fucks to give.  Our kids give us strength to deal with the assholes that are out there.  We will do what we need to in order to protect both our children, and to prepare them for the ugliness of the world.  Mom is happy to shoulder the blame for Fab’s “becoming” a girl if that means the anger is directed at her rather than Fab.  In a perfect world, the anger wouldn’t exist, because instead of seeing a boy who was turned into a girl, the man would have simply seen a happy child skipping down the hallway.  After all, it is what we see most days, a happy, sassy, little girl.

Dreams of Loneliness

dreamWe bought Fab a dream catcher tonight, to chase away the nightmares that seem to plague her sleep almost every night.  This is a side to her transition that I haven’t really touched upon, but it something that I’ve come to understand many transgender kids suffer from.  That is not to say that they have nightmares every night, but rather it is the subject of Fab’s dreams that she has in common with many kids like herself.

Fab’s nightmares center around her family being killed, and in violent ways, but isn’t them dying that makes her dreams nightmares, rather it is that with our deaths she will be left alone.  Loneliness, the fear of being alone is what has had her sleeping on the floor of our bedroom for the past two weeks.  She is still adjusting to her new normal, and with it she is coming to grips with her place in the world, and how navigate within it.

Loneliness isn’t just about losing people that love her, but also the loneliness of feeling different, solitary, or unique.  Pick your adjective, it really doesn’t matter, she knows she is different from all the other kids she knows, and it is something we know she thinks about.  We have told her that she isn’t the only little girl like herself, and that there are others.  We have already planned a meetup with other families that have daughters like Fab, but still in the concrete world of a seven year old, she won’t truly believe it until she sees it.

Yesterday we tried to tell her she needed to go back to her room, and try to sleep.  We try to keep it real with her and her brother.  We want them to be independent, take no prisoner adults who attack the world as they go out to face it.  To us, this is the greatest gift we could give to both of them, and in some ways she already possesses this attitude.  In other ways, she is still just a little girl.  The little girl told us that she needed to sleep with us until we found someone to talk to her about her nightmares, and she did it without missing a beat.  We hadn’t talked about that with her, but it seems she already has things she needs to talk about, and hearing the stress in her voice…well, she is still sleeping in our room.

When family ask how she is doing, I tell them when she wakes in the morning she straps on her armor to go off to school.  Within it she is safe, and happier than before, when she was living a lie, but still I think to myself it has to be exhausting for her to be on guard all day long.  To her credit, she is doing a great job.  She gets asked on a daily basis, “why do you want to be a girl?”  Coming from kids her age, it is an honest and curious question, but it can still be stressful.  We’ve told her to tell them, “because it is who I am” or to simply say “because I want to.”  Often she doesn’t say anything, because she has already developed her own defense mechanism, and  she doesn’t owe anyone an explanation for who she is.  Still…these are stresses you never want to see your young child dealing with.

Take a moment, how annoying would it be for any of us if we were asked on a daily basis why do we want to be the gender we know we are, or why do we wear the clothes we wear?  It’s like asking the couple who can’t get pregnant, “why haven’t you had babies yet?” or the single person “Are you ever going to get married and settle down?”  How would it be if people who used to see you one way now stared at you as you walked down a hallway?  She is my brave little girl, chin held high, she has taken on a sassy persona to cope.  As parents we show patience, knowing this is a mechanism she uses to deal with the ugliness she knows she might face on a daily basis.

We know this will get better for her.  We believe therapy will help, and every new day that she gets to be her true self is another day she becomes more comfortable with who she is and her place within the world.  We haven’t talked too much about what “transgender” is, other than having read I am Jazz once.  We don’t think it is necessary yet, or that it’s something she needs to grapple with at the moment.  That is a talk that has to come, but it can wait for now.

We still think things couldn’t have gone much better with her social transition, and we aren’t so naive to to think there weren’t going to be issues that would need to be dealt with.  Luckily, she has adults and children at school who have her back, and a family, nuclear and extended, who are proud of her, and happy that she can be herself.  These are blessings that many children don’t have, but simple things that, as adults, we can easily give our children.

It is so easy to love a child, and yet there are some who can’t, which brings me back to her nightmares.  Feelings of loneliness often can lead to suicide in adolescents, because, by extension, they feel as if they matter to no one.  This is our greatest fear for her, and something that we will always work at to make sure she knows just how much we value and love her.  We can all do this for our kids.  It is a parent’s job to leave ego behind and simply love their child.

I want my little girl to grow up to be a bad ass chick, and for the life ahead, I think that attitude will serve her well.  In the meantime, she can go on being mommy and daddy’s little girl.  After all, she’s only really enjoyed that status for two weeks now.  She can also go on sleeping in her tee-pee in our bedroom, where there is now a new rainbow dream catcher with pink feathers hanging from the tee-pee ceiling…waiting to catch and take her nightmares away…and if it doesn’t work, then we are right there, and for now that is enough to ease her mind.


I Love My Daughter…

smarter-daughterI know I said I was going to write Part 2 about how to talk to schools, and I will, but remember this blog is also for me.  It is a small stage to talk about how I’m feeling, and quite honestly how I think any dad should feel when it comes to their kid…straight, gay, lesbian, gender-fluid, or transgender…which is to say that none of that stuff should even come into play where our love for our children is concerned.

Almost a week has gone by since Fab proclaimed to the world that she had arrived and was not going anywhere, and so here I sit at 12:33 am on the first Sunday of November 2016 pondering my thoughts from the past week.  I never really had to mourn for a son lost, and for me the hardest part of it all has been adjusting to pronouns, and taking care of the myriad of administrative things that need to be done, to make sure that the path is clear for her to have as normal a childhood as possible.

I realize that in less than a week no part of me sees the boy that I “thought” used to be there.  Fab is my little girl, period, and my wife would tell you we already have that kind of bond.  I think she is the bravest, most courageous little girl I know, and I know there are times already when she has doubted the words in the above image…well, except maybe the smarter, because she’s pretty cocky when it comes to her intelligence, but honestly I would say the above words to anyone’s daughter, be they cis-gendered or transgender.

When I look at Fab, I don’t think of her as my transgender daughter, I think of her as my daughter…the little girl who loves the color pink, her stuffed animal collection,  animals, her dogs, her brother, her mother, and me.  She already battles at times with her mother like a thirteen year-old girl, but she also sees her mother as her most important confidant, who is always there to listen without judgement…even though I think there are times when my wife is ready to kill her.

Her relationship with her brother, which borders on the kind that twins have, is something special to watch.  She has a need to be near him, and he to her.  I’ll catch them sometimes holding hands, or her leaning with her head on his shoulder as if their unconscious bond is something that could never be broken, and I am happy that they have this kind of bond.  It will serve them both well as they grow into adulthood.  I don’t talk about him much on here, but he might be one of the sweetest, most genuine kids I’v ever known.  He can’t stand to upset his mother or I, to the point of tears when he does.  He doesn’t understand aggressive or mean people.  With that said, I’ve seen him stand up to a playground bully four years his senior when that bully targeted Fab.  He’s her little rock, and I’m her big rock.

In my forties now, I am still a big, powerful man.  I still workout regularly, play soccer (goalkeeper, so a little crazy) on Sundays, and look like a bigger, stronger version of  my younger self…with maybe a little more “love” around my mid-section.  In me, my family sees safety.  I’m the family security blanket.  When I travel for work, everyone, even the dogs are less relaxed, which I admit brings a smile to my face to know I’m wanted at home.

When it comes to Fab, her mother is her confidant, but I am who she looks to for that final approval that it is OK to jump, because she knows I’ll be there to catch her.  When Fab decides to jump she does it with both feet, fearless and with her chin held high, but before doing so I have to let her know that it is OK, that her mother and I love her, and what clothes she wears, or her gender have no bearing on that fact.

She begins school on Monday in a dress for the first time, fully as the gender she identifies with.  She will go to school with bright pink nails on her fingers and toes from her first mani/pedi with her mom.  The dress she will wear, well, she and I will go shopping to find the perfect one tomorrow.  I’m sure we’ll know it when we see it, and I hope it will give her the confidence to keep that chin up and a smile on her face.

The school has been informed, meetings have been held, and there is an excitement and nervousness that seems to emanate from Fab’s core.  Her friends, those wonderful little girls who have yet to be taught to judge others, accept her completely and can’t wait to see what Fab wears on Monday.  Her teacher, is equally excited, as are a few other ladies who have a special place in their heart for my little girl.

Almost a week in, and this is our new normal, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  I don’t believe in regrets, or in looking back to things that might have been changed.  Fab and her brother were precious gifts to us, a couple that could not have kids of their own.  People said when we adopted them that it was such a wonderful thing we were doing for them, but they’ve made us better, more complete people.  We always saw ourselves as the lucky ones in the equation to get such loving, happy children.

Now our normal has changed once again.  No kids, to two kids, and now two “boys”, to a son and daughter.  I know we need to have the transgender conversation with her.  Teach her more about what it means to be a “girl with a penis,” but I figure there is time for that, and part of my lapse is because when I’m with her, I don’t think about that stuff.  We know there will be ugly people she will have to deal with, and we hope that the sass and wit she already shows will serve her in dealing with these people.

For now, she is almost a week old as a girl, and I’ve heard girls are allowed to celebrate their birthdays for a month…so, if that is true then she doesn’t need to worry about anything but finding out the type of girl she is and wants to be.  I can, and will run interference for her a little bit longer.

I know there is much the two of us have to still learn about navigating life as father and daughter, but I’d like to think that we’ve made a pretty good start of it.  There will be fights and frustrations in our future.  I’m sure there will be nights I hold her while she cries, but in those same moments there’s a feeling that runs deep in me that I was made to do this, and to be this little girl’s daddy.  I wouldn’t change one hair on her blonde little head.  Perhaps, there was a guy a few weeks back if he had the power, would have made her a happy boy who was happy to be a boy, but that guy went away when I finally got to see Fab for who she really was.  As I sit here, and brush a tear from my eye, swallow a lump in my throat…I’m sorry I ever felt that way, she’s perfect to me, and I’m simply a lucky man to have this little girl tell me she loves me every day, and to hear her call me daddy.

Fabulous Dominates the Cubs

pink-cubsFor those of you who don’t really know me, which is most of you, I am not a huge baseball fan.  I haven’t been since the ’94 strike.  Before the strike I was an ardent fan, baseball card collector, etc.  Growing up we had great season tickets for the Cubs, and during the hallowed year of 1984, I missed out on going to a playoff game because I had strep throat.  I did get to attend a playoff game when the Cubs played Atlanta in 2004, but that year, like all the others ended in heartache.  Fast forward to November 2nd, 2016…the Cubs are on the verge of winning the World Series, something my 92 year old grandfather has never seen (happy he got to live to see it!), and I watch as the game goes to extra innings, and then a rain delay.  I debated for moment staying awake to watch it, but already past midnight, I needed some serous sleep.

In a normal week I would have stayed up, would have jumped for joy, and most likely would be far more exhausted than I already am, but I also would have been getting normal sleep the nights leading up to it.  No so this week, and why you may ask?  Well, if you join me regularly then you already know that Fabulous, my gender fluid son, is now Fabulous, my transgender daughter.  Yes, the Cubs World Series victory will always be tied in my mind to my daughter announcing herself to the world.  As result my mind has been a whirlwind of activity, and sleep has not be my friend, so I bailed on my Cubs and went to bed.

Most Cub fans will say that winning the World Series is the greatest event of 2016, most assuredly bigger than the shit show that is the 2016 presidential election, and I would almost agree with them, until I take pause for a moment to remember a little girl wearing a checkered dress and purple Dr. Marten’s boots.  A girl who smiled up at me and laughed like I had never seen her laugh in all the years of her life.  The little girl is a bigger deal to me than any Cubs victory past, present, or future…and I wouldn’t have it any other way.