Chapter 18: Lots of Locks

Perhaps I was being a wee bit dramatic. Duke probably won’t even remember it, but I feared that someday he would be in therapy, sobbing over gender identity and trying to forgive his mother. The comments started sporadically, but soon spread like poison ivy as more and more strangers confused him for a girl. Sometimes it was awkwardly uncomfortable. Other times, downright funny. Like the gentle-eyed woman in the produce aisle who sweetly chirped, “What’s her name?” and I curtly replied, “Duke.” She half-smiled, half-gasped and went to die a slow and painful death of foot-in-mouth disease by the lettuce.

If it had been up to his father, Duke would have grown up looking like a Hansen brother. But I was done with it. The day we were at a lake party and a grandmotherly-type cooed “your girls are so cute!” (Eloise in a bikini and Duke, shirtless, in blue swim trunks), I knew. It was time to make an appointment at the barbershop.

The day of, Duke was a pro. He sat statue-like while his blonde baby curls went fluttering to the floor. We got photos and a certificate and a ziplock of his locks.

What I didn’t anticipate though was the resulting, er, trauma. That afternoon, Duke had trouble going to sleep. I sneaked upstairs to see what the problem was and found him sitting on his bed, holding my mirror. Staring.

It looks like my fear of Duke landing in therapy may still come true. This time it will be identity confusion. And naturally, he’ll blame his mother.

Chapter 17: Queen of the Hill

I think the reason women believe that having boys is easier than girls is that they know a kingdom is only big enough for one queen. And as soon as that queen’s power is threatened, well, it’s all over. The wars will rage on until one day the young royal establishes her own place to rule.

Eloise was born with the ability to reign. She manages to get us to bend to her ways without even realizing that we’re being coerced. So, I’m not really sure who came up with the “Queen Eloise” party theme, but I am sure she was enthralled. We danced (jumped) to hits by Queen and Prince. We decorated crowns. And we accented everything in pink.

The thing I’ll remember most though was not something on the agenda – at least not mine. While the adults were distracted inside, Eloise led the miniatures outside. For days, she had been talking about playing in this dirt “mountain” in the vacant lot. And that’s where we found her. There in her pink tutu skirt and glittery crown, she played. Her majesty. Filthy and giggling.

In that moment, I could not have loved her more. She was a perfect contradiction: a demure adventuress. She reminds me that life is too big to be put in a box. You plan a party. You choose a theme. You have matching everything. And then a giant pile of dirt beckons.

Chapter 16: There and Back Again

I’ve heard before that disappointment comes from unmet expectations. I agree completely. When Chris’s higher-paying job in Georgetown wasn’t what he expected, he decided to go back to Whole Foods. This decision dominoed into our budget and we were forced to give up the Georgetown house and move back to our Austin condo. Disappointment came knocking. All of the work it took moving, remodeling, and settling in was now utterly futile. We never expected to take a step back. I had imagined a different type of future. And yet, life is full of the Unexpected.

We teach our kids to Dream big!, Follow your heart!, and Reach for the stars! (pardon my cliche reflux). But, I think we should also teach them how to handle heartache and overcome obstacles and work through regrets. We tend to advertise our accomplishments (thanks be to you, oh mighty Facebook), yet much more of life is lived in the trenches. And it’s there that character is built.

Having the chance to “Go Back to Start, Do Not Pass Go” has been hard. But at least the game is not over. And this time, we have a better strategy.

Chapter 15: Just Keep Swimming

There comes a point in every parent’s life, when they have to convince their kids to do something they do not want to do. For Eloise, it was swimming. Or more precisely, not drowning.

She comes by her need-for-control honestly. She’s apprehensive in new situations and hates to disappoint others. So I wasn’t too surprised when she just had to go to the bathroom 10 minutes into her 1st lesson. And 2nd. And 3rd. She would shuffle to the locker room, sit focused on the toilet, wash her hands as if preparing for surgery, and then saunter back to the pool just in time to say goodbye.

I asked her peppy swim instructor for advice and she chirped, “Just practice! If you build up her confidence, she won’t be so scared.” Obvious. And ingenious! We drove to Cindy’s “resort-style pool” for some practice disguised as playing. I told her we were going to play swimming lessons; she would be the teacher, Duke and I would be the victims/students. Eloise showed us how to swim and in the process, practiced her swimming.

With each visit to the pool her confidence grew, until one day she scolded me to get out of the water so she could swim across. By herself. Duke and I chanted “You can do it, you can do it, YOU CAN DO IT!” as she dog-paddled to the other side. I would like to say that she looked up at me, grinning, and thanked me for encouraging her to never give up. But instead she yelled, “I want to do it again!” And I was okay with that too.

Chapter 14: Have and Have Not

Memorial Day weekend we moved out of our Austin condo and into a Georgetown fixer-upper. With double the square footage, a big yard, and drum roll please… a garage – we thought we had made it. We had the concrete floors polished just weeks ahead of time, not realizing that when you grind/polish concrete, it creates a tsunami of concrete dust that leaches itself to anything it touches. We’re talking light fixtures, air vents, inside oven doors, EVERYWHERE.

So there we were, boxes and belongings unloaded from the truck, ready to settle in, when Chris informs me, “We can’t unpack until we get the concrete dust cleaned. And we can’t turn on the AC because it will just recirculate.” Ummm... excuse me?! It’s summer. In Texas. The state where we get cabin fever because it’s too hot to go outside.

But, mission accepted, we got it all cleaned. We tackled one room at a time, until four weeks later, we were done. I can’t deny that it was awful. We lived in a constant state of stickiness. We savored nights when it dipped to the high 70’s. And I learned to appreciate something I’ve always taken for granted. Living without can be one of the best experiences to live with.

Chapter 13: Don't Worry, Be

One of the best pieces of advice I got growing up was from my dad. It was during those awkward teenage (mutant) years that he said, “Don’t worry what others think of you.” I took it to heart and never looked back.

Duke, however, was born with this mantra. He exudes confidence and charisma, with a personality as big as his hair. So, for his 2nd birthday, we tossed out the pre-packaged toddler-themed parties and decided to go Disco. I figured what other toddler likes Disco music AND has a Soul Glo fro? Everyone was instructed to dress accordingly (although I’m still trying to figure out how high-water pants counts as costume, Dad), and we handed out moustaches and glow sticks.

Everything was imperfectly perfect. Who cares if we obviously-can’t-dance and I didn’t make enough cupcakes. I don’t know if I laughed more during the party or afterwards looking at the pictures. But I do know that my family is not normal. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Chapter 12: Sick No More

I used to get annoyed at how many prayer requests focused on people’s health. I would silently grumble about there being more to life that a distant relative’s hospital visit. But, when you’re faced with your own wellness threat, you realize that there is no more to life when you’re consumed with sickness. Things don’t go on as normal – you miss family reunions and preschool parties, playdates and work. All your attention is focused on getting better.

So when our pediatrician announced Eloise’s diagnosis, it was frightening. Pneumonia?! A bad cough and a little fever led to this? Chris and I would take turns in a panic, before harnessing the other back to an objective calm. We were instructed to keep an eye on her breathing at night and rush to the ER if it worsened. I prayed myself to sleep believing it would be fine by the morning. But Chris set his alarm every two hours to make sure she was okay.

I have never loved him more. Passing through the hallway, he said, “I would gladly give my life in exchange for hers.” And at the moment I knew he would. Without hesitation.

For Thanksgiving a few days later, we made a sign of things we were thankful for. I asked Eloise what she wanted me to write and she said, “Going to the doctor and getting better.” Indeed. It was a huge prayer request answered.