Tuesday, March 29, 2016

"Somebody didn't get her beauty sleep last night, did they?"

"Shut up, Darcy."

I was not in the best of moods.

"I swear that it couldn't have been more than thirty-six seconds after I got to sleep that this little monster woke up with the most godawful stinking diaper that has ever been seen - or smelled! - on the planet. What did they feed her at that daycare? Then she fussed and fidgeted until I was ready to scream."

"From my point of view, breastfeeding is a wonderful thing. I slept the sleep of the angels."

"Shut up, Darcy!"
 

I felt vaguely guilty for attending a session that Alonzo was not giving, (I am not a giddy teenager… I am not a giddy teenager…) but I wanted to do the session about the business end of the photography game. After all, I do have to make a living at this. It was certainly worthwhile, Darcy and I got several good ideas to incorporate in our work.

We did have lunch together - stop grinning, Darcy! In the afternoon Alonzo turned up at the portrait photography session, claiming he wanted to expand his knowledge. Knowledge of what I'm not saying as he sat next to me.

I hope the feeling is mutual. Hell, I just have to admit it - I am a giddy teenager.
 

While feeding Dawn at the daycare, we made a date to all visit Mount Diablo State park together. Chantal was all for going tomorrow and we had to explain that while she had no school, her Daddy and I had to go to work. That kid can pull a pickle face that would melt a heart of stone. I hope Dawn ends up as cute as she is, but Daddy seemed impervious to her blandishments. Saturday it would have to be.

We tried to put out it was so Chantal can play with Dawn.

Yeah, right. Darcy wasn't buying and I heard about it all the way home.
 

Thursday, March 31, 2016 4:32 AM

Even though Dawn has been sleeping longer some nights, tonight ( or should I say early this morning) she was ready for the 4 AM feeding. We snuggled down in the rocker while she slurped while I played a game on my phone one-handed. What did nursing mothers do before smartphones? I was surprised when the phone started to buzz and that cheerful little whistle announced a text message had just arrived.

What the heck?

* You awake?

It was Alonzo!

* What the devil are you doing up at this hour?

*Chantal had a nightmare. Now she's asleep and my brain wouldn't shut off. Thought I'd take a chance you were feeding Dawn

* Hold on a minute

I pushed the little green phone icon and called Alonzo. Texting one-handed is a pain, much easier to use your voice. The contents of the conversation isn't worth noting in this journal, but I do like talking to the man. Doing so in the middle of the night is sort of like reading comics by flashlight under the covers so your mother doesn't catch you up too late.

Should I tell Darcy? It would be fun to see her face, but then I'd have to put up with her teasing.

It might be worth it…
 

Saturday, April 2, 2016

Has anyone seen the woman who used to write this journal? You know, the one who swore her life was complicated enough without some silly notion of romance? Especially before she has her surgery?

She's gone missing.

I seem to recall she was a photographer. Maybe there's a picture of her around somewhere we can put on milk cartons. Actually, she resembles a milk carton herself, being full of the white stuff to be dispensed on demand. For a very demanding baby.

She had some silly notion about going on a date with the nice man she met at a conference. Cancel the date and make it a family outing. He's got a daughter, she's got a daughter, her nanny/partner-in-crime/housemate has a boyfriend. A boyfriend who stayed the night "so we could all get an early start in the morning."

Yeah, right. I got a bridge in Brooklyn… Can't sell the Golden Gate, it's already been snapped up.

Good thing Alonzo has a mini-van. I called shotgun, Dawn and Chantal got the middle seat with the lovers in the back row along with all the crap needed for a baby and a picnic. Don't forget the camera bags - photographers like to be prepared!

It's been a while since I was at Mount Diablo, a couple of visits with my parents as a kid and one memorable trip with a gang from high school. You want to be sure you choose your driver carefully for those twisty roads, a girl can get the wobblies looking out the window on those hairpin turns with a guy trying to set a new land speed record.

I was relieved when Alonzo turned out to be a sensible driver, but going up those twisty roads still was a bit disconcerting. It brought back memories of going down twisty mountain roads when I found Dawn. Chantal, however, loved looking over the side and seeing nothing beyond the guard rail but - nothing. The view was spectacular, I could see how Alonzo could fall in love with landscape photography.

The day's surprises weren't over, however. When we got to the visitor center, who should be waiting for us but Ursula and Eric. I gave Darcy one of my 'stern mother looks' - largely in vain - and she admitted "I could have told Aunt Ursula we were coming up here today, I guess."

Some guesswork. Some 'first date.'

OK, enough complaining. We had a ball. When Alonzo suggested we hike the Stage Road Loop I was skeptical. 4.1 miles and climbing up almost 600 feet! This is the girl that hops in the car to go to the corner store. Then again, this is the girl that probably walks 4.1 miles with a cranky baby some nights, trying to convince her she's sleepy. No good taking the baby stroller, there are parts of the trail that it just won't go on. Besides, I'd be accused of promoting shaken baby syndrome if I tried to push the stroller down some of those washboard dirt roads.

That's when I realized that there were six adults in the party - that works out to only .68 miles each if I pass the baby around. Maybe this is the way go do on a first date!

"What about Chantal?" I asked.

"She's done six miles with me. Well, most of six miles. I did end up doing my 'Daddy's a pony' routine for part of the trip."

"And what happens if I run out of steam?"

"I could think of worse things than having you clinging to my body."

"Behave yourself!"

"Do I have to?"

"There are children watching, Alonzo!"

"There are adults watching, too," snarked Darcy.

"And I bet Rory would be the first to volunteer if you got tired."

"Even if she isn't tired," he said with a grin.

I could tell that Alonzo is a serious hiker, he had one of those fancy backpacks with an aluminum frame, but this one had been modified for his camera equipment and a tripod was lashed to the place where you would expect a sleeping bag to be. Chantal had a Disney princess backpack (I was getting the idea there was a theme to that girl) and I had seventeen pounds of Dawn strapped to my back and a camera around my neck.

Rory surprised me by having a pretty serious backpack and he supplied Darcy with one as well. The two of them were elected to carry our lunch. Ursula and Eric roughed it with just water bottles and belt pouches.

The weather was a bit cool up in the hills, but perfect for hiking. I have to say that sitting in a workshop learning some of the fine points of landscape photography was interesting, but actually traversing that landscape with a skilled photographer made all the difference. Even Ursula, with her smartphone camera, got some lovely images. Those of us with professional cameras fussed and twiddled and framed to get some superior stuff, but with country this gorgeous it's hard to take a bad photograph.

Not that we completely ignored portrait photography, after all we had two beautiful children to be our subjects. Oh yes, one beautiful man, too. Sorry Eric, but I'm biased. I have to share one I got of Alonzo. My heart still melts when I look at it.

You'll note the warm coat, even though it was warming up nicely in the city, up in the hills it was rather chilly when we started out. By the time we had lunch the warm-weather gear was in the backpacks.

Ursula and Eric shared stories of visiting Mount Diablo as kids, Darcy was no stranger as well - both families were outdoorsy types. Even though I was worried about a city girl wandering in the woods, I thoroughly enjoyed the walk.

We found a delightful spot for lunch and Dawn didn't seem to care that it was served with Mom sitting on a rock. Chantal was fascinated with the baby nursing, so I once again explained how babies got nourishment when they were little. This time I let her hold Dawn and try to burp her, which was rewarded by a belch that echoed through the hills. I just wish someone had a camera ready at that moment, Chantal's big, brown eyes were as wide as any owl's when it happened.

"Y'know," Alonzo offered, "my grandmother used to live right near the park and ride her horses in it."

"From all the signs for equestrian trails I've seen she must have felt right at home."

"They didn't have any established trails back then, they just rode wherever they wanted. Grandma and Grandpa came here in the sixties and tried to be hippies in Haight-Ashbury."

"Tried?"

"Great-grandpa didn't think Grandpa was good enough for Grandma, so they ran away to become hippies. Got married on the beach by a friend who had one of those ordination certificates from some weird church nobody ever heard of, bought a six-pack and some weed with the last of their cash and spent their honeymoon night high and happy. At least that's how Grandma tells it.

Anyway, they couldn't even afford a place to stay and their friends were getting a bit peeved by them couch surfing, so a friend of a friend of a friend introduced them to his maiden great-aunt who lived in the hills just outside the park. She had horses and chickens and was getting a bit too old to manage alone, so they got to stay with her if they helped take care of the place.

"Grandma was a horse nut - still is for that matter - and she was in heaven. When Grandpa ran their old clunker off the road and totaled it their only transportation was on horseback. Grandma loved to ride all day in the park - after all they didn't have a paying job to waste time on. They were happy until the old girl finally passed on, but she left them a small bequest that was enough to get them started in the so-called real world."

"Sounds like a success story to me," Eric said.

"I'll have to introduce you sometime. They're pretty cool people. I don't see them all that often because my folks got religion and don't approve of hippie parents."

"So the crazy skipped a generation?"

"I'm not saying which generation has the crazy, but seems like it. I think I get my wanderlust from them, not to mention a rather skewed outlook on life."

"Then you'll fit right in with this crowd," Ursula offered. "Hope is one of the most delightfully crazy people I've ever met, even if we met because of a tragedy."

"Oh?"

"It's a long story, and complicated. You'd best ask her sometime when you have plenty of time to hear it. Right now we ought to get moving again before these old bones freeze in place."

"Old bones? Nonsense!" replied Alonzo diplomatically.

"Old bones," reiterated Ursula. "I bet I'm of an age with your hippie grandparents. I always envied my friends who went off and became hippies, but I became a cop instead. Not sure which of us got the better deal."

"You're a cop?"

"Was a cop, thank you. I'm retired and loving it."

"I sort of wondered. My ex is military police. You kind of get to recognize the signs after you've lived with a cop, military or civilian."

Interesting, I thought. We hadn't talked about his background too much. Well, I hadn't told him much of mine, either. We only just met!

"You and I need to go somewhere and talk, Alonzo," Eric grinned. "Seems like we have a lot in common."

"You're in trouble now, Auntie," said Darcy.

"Are we hiking or doing true confessions?" I asked. Like I said, we hadn't to time to tell all my secrets.

Whew!

"Ah, a mysterious woman," exclaimed Alonzo. "I'm intrigued. Shall we delve into the deep, dark past the next time we see each other?"

"I'm not old enough to have a deep, dark past, fella. Mystery, I'll grant you. Confusion in profusion."

"Daddy, stop talking and start walking!" commanded Chantal.

"The wisdom of the young. Let's move out, troops. Which way do we go, princess?

"Read the signs, Daddy."

Smart kid.
 

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

I realized something today. After years of knowing I was really Hope, spending more and more time as Hope as opposed to John-Paul until I finally realized that I am Hope. Now I realize I'm comfortable being Hope, it isn't an alternate personality or an act. It's just who I am. I finally realized this when I met an old high school buddy while I was shopping for groceries.

Having seen life from both sides, I can tell you that a woman knows when a guy is checking her out. If the guy isn't too obvious about it, it can even be a pleasant experience. I mean, who doesn't want to be appreciated?

It gets annoying when said guy spends his time staring at your breasts or trying to see down you cleavage. You just learn to cope, just like any other woman does.

There is another variation known only to transwomen, however, and I suppose transmen as well. That happens when someone who knew you before transition runs into you and has that 'where do I know her from?' look on his face. I've been blessed by a body that doesn't scream 'male' and I am seldom clocked after ten years of being Hope whenever I could, but it happened when my old buddy Charlie Horse and I met in the bakery aisle.

Yes, Charlie's parents actually hung him with the name 'Charles D. Horse.' As far as I know the middle initial doesn't stand for anything but a really abominable joke. Some parents should be isolated and banned from all human society. At least there should be a board of judges to short-circuit such nonsense.

But I digress.

As I searched for baking powder and he searched for who-knows-what, he finally got up the nerve to ask "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Now that line is as old as the hills, but Charlie was simply trying to clear up his confusion, not pick up a hot chick in the supermarket. Charlie has always been a bit of a geek, socially awkward but brilliant. A regular walking stereotype.

"Yes Charlie, you do know me, but it's been a long time and I've changed. A lot."

"Oh?"

"John-Paul Waldrop, Charlie. Now known as Hope, and this is my daughter Dawn."

"Wow!"

"You're looking good, Charlie. You haven't changed much. What are you doing these days?"

"Industrial automation stuff. Not very interesting to most people, but I love it. Uh, what are you doing?"

"I'm a professional photographer and a mother." Damn, he was staring at my breasts, but I wasn't too annoyed. Charlie never had much social awareness, he didn't mean anything nasty about it. "Yes, they're real, Charlie. Real enough that I'm breastfeeding Dawn."

"Wow!"

Still one of Charlie's favorite words. I suppose his buddy breastfeeding an infant is a bit much to take in while standing amongst the flour and sugar packages.

"I see a wedding band on your finger. Any kids? Who did you marry? Do I know her?"

"Oh. I married Amy Spencer. Two kids, boy and a girl. They should be over in produce, she sent me to get a bag of sugar."

"Congratulations. I'm still single but I have hopes." Name of Alonzo, but I'm not going to go overboard.

"There you are!" came the triumphant cry from down the aisle. I wondered if I was going to have to send out a search party."

"Oh, Amy. I ran into an old friend, but she's changed."

Funny how a wife has to check out the woman her husband's talking with in the store. Then I got her version of the 'where do I know you from' stare.

So I went through the whole thing again. The kids rolled their eyes in boredom while the adults blathered on. We left with vague promises to stay in touch after exchanging phone numbers, but I wasn't going to bet the farm on the follow-through. At least as a mother, I hoped Amy wouldn't consider me competition.

Once I got Dawn settled in the car seat I sat there for a minute and mused on the encounter. I couldn't get Charlie's fascination with my breasts out of my mind.

My breasts.

Meeting Charlie again brought back those feelings that my younger, allegedly-male, self felt back in school. The feeling of being in the wrong body. The fascination and the intense longing to have breasts. Trying to surreptitiously study the girl's breasts, watching the back of the girls to see the outline of their bras. Fantasies about feeling breasts on my own body, putting a bra around me because I so wanted to wear one. Oh the rich fantasy life. Oh the guilt!

Then there was that first weekend where I was alone and was able to glue on a pair of silicone forms and feel the weight on my chest, to feel how a bra supported my breasts when I adjusted the straps. To wake up with weights upon my chest, just like a girl would.

It was almost enough, but not enough. Not quite.

Sitting there in the driver's seat while Dawn made happy baby noises I realized that my breasts had become a part of me. No longer objects of fantasy or longing, no longer unattainable feminine markers, but simply me!

It wasn't that long ago that I had developed far enough to appreciate the support of a bra. The bone-deep satisfaction of being able to settle my breasts in the cups is still fresh in my mind, but then realized that I hadn't thought there was anything special about putting on a bra in what seemed like ages. In fact, if I had stretched feeding time a bit too much I had become annoyed with having breasts.

And dammit, I was having fantasies about Alonzo sucking on them. I hardly know the guy and I have drifted off in erotic fantasies more than once.

Maybe I should give him a call. Would my mother approve? She always had that pickle-faced look whenever a girl called Ralph. Liberal she may be, but when she grew up girls didn't call boys.

But then again, boys didn't become girls back then, either. Flinging those teenage strictures into the dust heap of history, I went ahead and did it. Just why shouldn't I give Alonzo a call? Of course, that brought up the conversation I was going to have to have with him before things went much further.

I had never thought that much about holding that conversation since I was sure I was not going to get romantic notions about a man until after the operation. I've been lucky to have very little trouble with taking the hormones, but they do seem to be having some effect on my libido. Is that normal? I'll have to ask my endo next time I see him.

I pushed the button on the steering wheel and the cheery voice said "Say a command."

"Call Alonzo." I replied in my clearest voice.

Calling Alonzo Knight on cell," she replied.

Except it was Chantal who answered. She had obviously been instructed in circumlocutions so she didn't have to say 'Daddy's on the toilet taking a dump.'

Perfect timing, Hope.

So I had one of those on-again, off-again conversations with a six-year-old until Daddy was available.

Once again, we didn't talk about anything worth setting down for posterity, but I loved to hear his voice.
 

Friday, April 8, 2016

Sometimes I feel like a bug under examination by some miniature entomologist. No, really, Dawn has mastered that piercing, concentrated stare that pins you to the metaphorical wall with its intensity. Even making silly faces seems to be irrelevant, until she finally decides to focus elsewhere. Damn, she's so cute!

Speaking of being metaphorically pinned to the wall, talking to Alonzo just might qualify. Damn again! I feel like a giddy teenager talking to him and here I am a mature mostly-woman of twenty six years. I'll admit it in these scribbles that I certainly wish I were done with surgery and able to invite him into my bed without fear.

It's times like these that I truly regret those years of indecision about transitioning. A little more confidence, a little less fear, whatever, and I'd already be as completely feminine as it was possible to be.

Of course, up until a couple of weeks ago I thought I wasn't interested in such things. I'm sure Emma will have something pithy to say at our next session about clients who lie to themselves. Or maybe clients who just plain don't know their own mind.

In any case, Alonzo and Chantal are coming for dinner tomorrow. Darcy and Rory have volunteered (remember those old war movies where the Sergeant says 'I need two volunteers - you and you are volunteering!') to amuse Chantal so I can prick up my courage and tell Alonzo about myself. If I've been having romantic daydreams about the guy I need to be honest and tell him the truth.

And this time I'm not going to procrastinate and equivocate.

Oh, shit! I'm scared!
 

Saturday, April 9, 2016

A cool, gray, rainy day. Not so surprising this time of year, but I'm trying not to let affect my mood. Thanks to the after-Easter sales I found a leg of lamb that was only mildly extortionate in price, so that's what I'm serving. Thanks to a recipe from a Hungarian friend, I covered it in slivered garlic and roasted it with thin sliced potatoes - a magnificent dish to help me set the mood. A man who is replete with good food should be more receptive.

Dinner was a success, and Darcy successfully took Chantal into the living room to play some game or other while I talked to Alonzo. The wonderful man helped with the dishes, and afterwards we sat at the cozy kitchen table with coffee and I screwed up my courage.

"Alonzo, I think you've realized I'm rather taken with you and Chantal."

"The feeling is mutual, Hope."

"I'm probably going to make a hash out of this, but there are things you need to know about me if we intend to get serious about each other."

"Take your time and I'll listen."

"It's hard to know where to begin. Until we met I was sure that I was just too busy and had too much on my plate to fit anything romantic in my life. You, my dear, blew that all to hell!"

"After a failed marriage I had similar thoughts, myself. I certainly wasn't looking for romance either, but you've made that seem like a silly choice."

"Then you need to know just who and what I am and how Dawn came into my life…"

So I told him all about me. I really don't remember just what I said or how I said it, it all came out in a jumble despite my attempts at scripting the conversation in my head these last few days. I finally got to the main point - that I had been born male - when a rueful smile adorned his face and he said "So that was you I read about."

Huh?

The bugger had read that newspaper profile that ran when I found Dawn and had the crazies on my lawn. Alonzo had read it and filed it under 'that's interesting but so what?' and gotten on with living.

"Some of the things you said rang a bell somewhere deep in my brain but I couldn't quite call it up. Maybe that's what I find fascinating about you, that you aren't a typical woman. Not to be gauche, but how the devil can you be breastfeeding? You aren't part cyborg, are you?"

See why I love the man. No drama, just curiosity about me. He reached out and took hold of my shaking hands. His were warm and loving while mine were cold as ice. He listened while I told him just what it was like to be me, told him my hopes and dreams, and got lost in those beautiful blue eyes of his.

At some point, holding hands wasn't enough. He came over and put those warm, loving hands on my shoulders and kneaded my tortured muscles into jelly. When I ran out of words he kissed me on the cheek and I think I dissolved into a puddle on the floor.

"I think getting to know you better is going to be a wonderful experience. Next time I'll have to tell you about myself and
Chantal's mother. If we intend to make it as a couple you need to know about me and my flaws. I think it's time we went in and spent some family time together, though. Shall we?"

That's when we kissed. Not some peck on the cheek, but a full-bore, overhead cam, spoke-wire-wheel-spinning, screaming down the drag-strip kiss.

Hey - I did grow up male despite my wishes. Some allusions hang on in spite of outward appearances.

I got another taste when they left; the quality is consistent, but I may need a few more samples to be sure.
 

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Another late-night gabfest on the phone with Alonzo. At least for those of us with children 10:00 PM seems late night. We had gotten on the subject of sunrise and sunset photography, a time of day much beloved by us who try to capture the world on film.

Funny how that phraseology has stuck even though we capture the world on millions of little electronic sensors that then fill millions of electronic holes in some ultra-miniaturized little electronic device. We still focus the lens and push the button to get an image, no matter how it's stored.

I'm getting sidetracked again.

I mentioned how the last sunrise pictures I had taken were the day I rode that cable car and found Dawn. There was a prolonged silence.

"Alonzo, you still there?" I asked.

"Yeah. Look, this may be crazy, but Chantal has always wanted to ride the cable car. Would it be too much to ask if we took her for a ride next Saturday?"

"I think it would be OK. I did have nightmares for a while, but I think replacing those images with a family trip would be a very good thing."

"Family trip, eh?"

"When we're together it feels like family. You've been so generous in accepting all of us. I know Darcy is almost as in love with you as I am."

Again the silence.

"I think that goes for Chantal and me, we're both falling in love with you."

"Damn, I wish you were here. Kissing a phone is not satisfying at all!"

"Virtual kissing just plain sucks, Hope. So, are you game to try and get some shots of the sunrise?"

"I want to say yes, but somehow it isn't as easy when you're hauling a baby around with you. If Dawn decides she wants that 4 o'clock feeding I'd have to leave as soon as she's done; if she decides to sleep through you might not be able to get me out of bed in time."

"You could always stay over here and I could make sure you get up."

This time the silence was mine.

"How far does the invitation go?"

"As far as you're comfortable and no further. I'm talking spare room here. Besides, there will be children present to chaperone."

"Let me think on it."

"Sure, we got all week. Whether you accept or not, come over for Friday dinner. I need to reciprocate for that lamb."

"That I don't have to think about. We'll be there. Oh, Darcy and Rory will be out clubbing or some such, just Dawn and me."

"The next time for them, then. I'm looking forward to Friday."

"So am I."
 

Friday, April 15, 2016

OK, I'm cheating. I'm actually writing this on Sunday, the weekend was a bit busy. Had better things to do than write in this fool thing.

I don't care what the problems are - I'm going to marry Alonzo for his cooking alone. Roast beef with Yorkshire pudding, Brussels sprouts with butter and a ton of garlic, homemade chocolate-raspberry pudding.

I have one of those interesting problems, with both of us good cooks we'd weigh about 300 pounds in no time. I don't want to spend money on a new wardrobe, thank you.

All right, I won't keep you in suspense any longer. Yes, we did stay over. Yes, I stayed in the spare room. Yes, it wasn't that simple.

Did you really think it would be?

Knowing we were going to be up at godawful o'clock in the morning, we tried to get to sleep early. We both went to bed when we put Chantal into bed.

Sleep? You've got to be kidding. Why is it that whenever you know you have to be up early you just can't get to sleep? Being in a strange bed has something to do with it. Having the object of some rather interesting erotic fantasies on the other side of the wall may be a contributing factor. Add in a little bit of worry about riding in the cable-car that started me on the path to motherhood, add a fussy baby and you have a really bad mix.

I did get to sleep, but I couldn't say when I finally got there. I can tell you when I stopped sleeping to the minute: 3:47 AM according to the big, luminous green numbers on the bedside clock. Dawn was early for the four o'clock feeding I was hoping she wasn't going to be wanting.

I stumbled into the living room where the big, cushy reclining rocker swallowed me like some primordial something - a hungry primordial something. I had another hunger to assuage, so I unbuttoned and let the little darling do her best. She finished one side and was working her way through the other when I felt those warm hands on my shoulder again.

"A mother's work is never done, is it?"

"So I'm told. You have warm hands."

"So I'm told."

Those hands started doing their magic and I once again reveled in Alonzo's touch. Talk about your inducement to let down your milk, massage like that is a winner! Dawn gave a sort of a hiccup as my flow suddenly increased, but she soon settled back to her work.

I was nicely spaced out when she finished, so much so I hardly noticed she was done in my bliss.

"She done?" he asked.

"Gotta burp her."

"Here, give her to me, let me see if I still have the touch."

"Your funeral."

The little darling did her duty and snuggled down in his arms like she was born to be there.

"Let me carry her in to the bedroom so she doesn't wake up."

"Thanks."

I snuggled down into the bed and he placed her beside me, then kissed me on the cheek.

"Don't go?" I muttered sleepily.

"Are you sure?"

"Sure."

Alonzo's body is just as warm as his hands.