Front to back in Stuff

I’ve gone introspective lately, which for some people might translate into writing here more often, but for me it’s meant I’m holding it all in and not writing at all. There also doesn’t seem to be a hell of a lot to write about. Things have been calm and steady and work. The kids have been enjoying their summer vacation. I wish I could instill in them a real appreciation of this time in their life. Most likely they will never again as adults have their entire summers free.

I guess I’ll update about everyone, which will help me focus on something to write.

Harrison will correct me now if I call her Harry. This is amusing to me because she insisted on being called Harry for about the last five years. I’ve always hated that nickname, but simultaneously appreciated that she took her gender-neutral name and gave herself a typically-male nickname. I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t want to give my daughters feminine names, but it was a conscious decision on my part. I was aware even as a young mother that they might both grow up to hate their names, but that hasn’t happened.

As the kids get older, Harrison feels like the most adapted and well-rounded of the bunch. I mean, they’re all good kids. Great kids, really. I wouldn’t change a thing. But when I look at which of them seems to have the tools to be most happy and successful in life, I think it’s Harrison. She’s still very open and honest with me about everything, which I definitely cannot say about her sisters.

When Harrison broke up with her last boyfriend, I asked her if she wanted to talk about it. She was still wiping away break-up tears from her eyes when she said, “I really enjoyed having sex with him but I knew we weren’t really good for each other.” My mother would have damn-near fainted if I had said something like that to her, but I really like that Harrison tells me how it is without fear or hesitation.

I’ve just finished going through the long process of college applications with Mercy and now that I have this under my belt with two kids, I’m going to be a pro when Harrison is ready next year.

Mercy is struggling in more ways than I could probably write about here. She has all the typical teenager angst and depression and fear and self-loathing that I know is almost normal for a 17 year old. And then multiply all of that by a factor of ten because she’s struggling with her gender identity. Maybe “struggle” isn’t the right word, since she’s aware of her identity. But she has to now deal with all the turmoil in her life with being transgender in a society that’s accepting to some extent, but we all still very much raise and eyebrow when we hear about these things.

Mercy sees a therapist twice per week. It disturbs me that she needs this much therapy. On the other hand, I’m glad she’s able to have it if she needs it. We had a plan in place to start her on hormones August first, yesterday, but it didn’t happen for a handful of reasons. I’m not completely involved in these decisions, but the fact that she’s still technically a minor makes it easier for everyone that I’m supportive.

I can’t say that it was easy or quick to accept her as my daughter, regardless of how easy I may have made it sound here when I write about it. I still struggle with always using the correct pronouns. I don’t know how to react when she wants to show me a new outfit or ask me about procedural things with being a woman. She asked me a couple weeks ago about wiping when using the restroom. Someone had apparently told her that women wipe “back to front” rather than front to back. This was an oddly complicated conversation as we discussed how to wipe like a woman and why it’s done the way it’s done.

Olsen. I feel like right now I can’t write about Olsen without writing about Megan at the same time. They are not only inseparable, but I’ve discovered recently that Olsen really has started acting a lot like Megan, minus the social awkwardness. Seeing the two of them act like twin sisters has made it a lot harder for me to feel like I have a separate friendship with Megan beyond her being my daughter’s girlfriend. And maybe that’s a good thing.

Last night Olsen texted me that they were in the hot tub and I should join them. There was about a 99% chance that I would say no to an invite like that, and I’m sure they knew it. But I happened to have been sitting on my bed scratching a few mosquito bites and thinking that a hot bath might be just the thing I needed, so I went over to Megan’s place.

Olsen was sitting in the water up to her neck. Megan was sitting on the edge with only her feet in the water, completely unconcerned about being naked and exposed as I’ve grown used to with her. Her small glass pipe that she uses to smoke pot was in her hand and I presumed they’d both been smoking. She offered it to me and I declined.

Then Olsen told me that she was going to move in with Megan. It felt like it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it did. I should have been wondering why they hadn’t moved in together yet, but it never crossed my mind. The idea of Olsen going through all the trouble of moving just to be in the house next door seems not worth the effort. And Megan’s protection of her personal space made me think she wouldn’t want to share her home.

But now that’s happening and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I guess I should be happy for them.