Publix: Where Shopping Really Is A Pleasure

Showing Hayden Publix. I’m such a proud dad.

I keep Hayden on a pretty regular schedule. We always go to the park and grocery store every day. It’s that little piece of Paris life that I can’t let go of. I just enjoy going to the “market,” ok it’s only a grocery store I know. But it is my happy place. Aside from the Paris markets and street vendors, and I’ve said this everywhere, Publix is the greatest grocery store EVER.

Publix will always have a special place in my heart. It was my first job. Yep I was a bag boy, then cashier. I was a member of their credit union, where I financed my very first car at the age of 18. It was the place where I felt very comfortable being a gay teen in the south. I dated a guy that worked for Publix, and we moved in together. That was my very first apartment at the age of 17, yes the apartment came before the car. But I digress…

Publix is a great company. It has clean stores, great products, super friendly employees, and a sense of welcoming. Moving back to Florida meant I could share that with Hayden. We go to the grocery store every day, sometimes three times a day. Going to Publix is like going to Disney World for me. And now it is for Hayden too.

Although it might just have to do with these Race Car carts…

Hayden loves the Publix Race Car carts.

Daddy Did It!

Hayden and Sebastian chillin’ in the bed.

With every passing week comes a new word or phrase. A few months ago it was “thank you” and this past week the famous phrase has been “I did it.”  Oddly enough, it’s been my phrase too.

Coming back to conservative Jacksonville, has sent us on a rollercoaster of emotions. After so many years away, fortunately we often just remember the good times.  The truth is, as we slip back into life here, glimmers of past experiences are becoming present again.

I remember our old house on Whitsbury Court. Our neighbors were amazing and became good friends for life. However, even after living there for three years our neighbors still thought we were brothers the day we moved away. Saying the word “husband” was never easy for me, even “partner” was hard to let slip out. So this week when I had to call All State to switch our car insurance, a little piece of me was dreading the question I knew was coming.  But the moment the All State agent asked me what my wife’s name was, for the first time in the south I didn’t even miss a breathe before saying, “My husband’s name is Josh.” Without skipping a beat on his end, he said, “Great, what’s date of birth?” Just like my son, “I did it!”

I Did It!

Hayden strikes a stoic pose at the playground.

Remember way back in grade school when we would all go outside for recess?  Sure the playground was fun, but it was also the cut-your-teeth ground; kids calling each other names, pushing each other down, trying to figure out who they are and aren’t.  As adults and parents, we take our kids to the play ground and, well, nothing much has changed. Parents pair off into groups and talk about all the things going on, who’s a bad parent and did you hear what so and so did?  Nothing much has changed since second grade.

I’ll admit I have a little adult playground anxiety: I’m the “new parent” in town.  As we reestablish ourselves here in Florida, I want to keep Hayden on his regular routine, which involves a daily trip to the playground.  It’s the perfect way for him to play with other kids his age, try new things, climb, run, slide and occasionally fall.  Finding a new playground might sound simple enough but for me it presents a few difficulties.  For one, I hate being outside.  And two, I suffer socially.  Most of the time I push through it and do the best I can simply because I don’t want my own anxieties to trickle down and affect our son.

Needless to say, I was so scared to go to a new playground in the town where we’re currently living while we stay with my parents.  Here in Florida, it seems like not much has changed since the 50s.  Moms tend to go in the morning and dads tend to go in the afternoon while the moms are at home fixin’ dinner.  So sexist.

It’s no secret that my biggest concern with the move has been people’s attitudes toward our family.  How will people react to the gay dad on the play ground?  Will they still be ok with Hayden playing with their kids?  My defenses are up: I keep thinking there’s a big group of narrow-minded republicans who will at any minute start talking trash, attacking our family.

But as it turns out, no one seems to care.  Which leads me to believe that actually, I’m the one with the problem.  My problem isn’t just being outdoors.  It’s also the fact that maybe I need to revisit my own stereotypes and prejudices.  But for now I’ll celebrate the day as I conquered my playground fears!

Home Again

Who said, “You can’t go home again?”

Well, we already are.  After nearly a year in Los Angeles, we’re heading home to Florida, right where we started.  The very place our journey of marriage and adoption began: home to a state that’s fifty-fifty as far as acceptance and attitude goes, and while the last year has been a journey, this is the new start of yet another journey.

During our flight, I give Hayden props.  As an experienced traveler at the age of two, flying cross country was a breeze.  We played cards, we watched “The Wiggles,” and we pointed out “more clouds” every five seconds.  It was the easiest flight I’ve ever had with him.

I’m used to the questions:

“Are you sure he is in the seat right?” “Doesn’t the seat belt go the other way?”

Those questions never bother me. And they sure don’t bother Hayden.  He just smiles, waves, and blows kisses.

This move comes with deep seeded feelings. Leaving the comfort of California and before that, Massachusetts for Florida.  We simply don’t know how it’s going to feel to be in a less supportive region of the country.

Our flight was from LAX to JAX with a stop in Texas.  TSA pre-check made security a breeze (if you don’t have it – you are missing out on first class travel on a $50 budget, so just do it).  Hayden and I always take the last row and we try to not be a burden to anyone.  Something other travelers might try once and a while.

Southwest Airlines made the six hour travel time, with a two year old, a breeze.  At our connection in Texas it hit me. Hayden and I are flying from Texas to Florida. The discomfort set in. But Southwest and our flight attendant Rachel made our trip back home feel comfortable.

Kind, caring, and attentive, she asked the normal question, “Are you sure that seat is in right?”  Again, those types of questions are easy for me.  It’s usually when the seemingly casual conversation kicks in that is always the make or break.  Saying that we are flying home to Florida to meet my husband, Hayden’s dad, are always words that just fly out.  And I never know how people will respond.  But Rachel didn’t even bat an eyelash.  She was terrific asking questions about Hayden and Scott.  Even the woman who sat next to me joined in conversation about kids and grandparents.  I was so apprehensive and nervous about flying home, already worried about how people would treat us, and it turned out to be the best flight with Hayden yet!

Now that we are back on the ground, Hayden is letting loose from a day of sitting.  As you can see, he loves his morning stretches.

Now on to find a pediatrician, vet, apartment, doctor, dentist, drivers license, transfer the car tag….  There better be a lot of coffee!

The Pilot Blog: The Priest that changed it all – Life pre-Hayden

Four years ago, in 2011, we made a decision. We would leave our home in Florida and start our family. It was a place I had called home for over 10 years and a place that my husband only knew. For a place we loved so much, sadly it didn’t seem to love us back. To understand why we left and to even begin to grasp why we would return, we first must go back in time to see the moment that made us question the love our home really had for us. Many of you may know this story, but in any good play or movie you must first set the stage:

It was fall-time, which for Florida is simply the season between sweaty hot and long-sleeve shirts. I had just received an invitation to be a speaker at a local church in the area. The woman who called was named Daisy. She was sweet, middle-aged, soft-spoken. Whenever Daisy called our office it provided comic-relief to an often stressful day for us. Daisy was a dedicated, caring, hard-working and motivated woman – also known as a southern church-attending catholic woman. Daisy first had called our office after seeing an article in our local paper about a recent trip my company did to Ecuador. We were in the business of sending college students overseas and although most of our time was spent dealing with drunken students abroad and their phoning parents, who still thought their children didn’t drink, quite often we had the chance to go abroad for the greater good. When Daisy first called we were very touched. She had a calling to help us and lord only knows God didn’t have my number. A few months later Daisy came to our office and dropped off enough supplies for the entire country of Ecuador. Unfortunately, encyclopedias in English, American flags and coloring books that had in fact already been colored weren’t exactly what we needed to rebuild an orphanage.

One summer day Daisy’s number came across our caller ID and it was I that was honored with taking the call. She informed me that she was having a little get together for her ladies club at her church and wanted me to come tell her group what she had been doing at this orphanage in which she had never been to, and discuss how many lives have been changed by her cares and givings of english encyclopedias and American flags. The evening came and as I looked across the room I could see my colleague who came to support glaring up at me and practically sending up flares to get my attention. She was motioning for me to look at the schedule for the evening all while laughing hysterically and cheers-ing me with her wine glass. I really had not prepared anything for what I assumed was a little get together and usually don’t get nervous but as I looked at the schedule the words “Keynote Speaker” next to my name made me wet myself a little. “We’ve been so looking forward to this night”, the Priest whispered to me. So have I, I thought. So have I, as I looked out on the few hundred people who had come for the event.

As I was being introduced something powerful came over me. At that moment I realized that as I was sitting there, thousands of miles away there were a group of girls who had been abandoned by their families, abused by those they loved and whose voices may never be heard. This could be their opportunity to tell their own story and I was more than proud to be able to do that for them. Over the course of the next 45 minutes I gave my version of “I have a Dream”. I described my first interactions with the girls. From the moment we arrived all we could focus on was their surroundings, all they could focus on was living life with a positive outlook, seeing past their heartache and differences and providing us with the warmth and love that had so easily been stripped away from them. These girls had been completely tossed aside, left to die, but by the time we left they had changed us in all the ways we had come to change them. And well of course I threw in a few stories about my mom and what she taught me growing up. It was a crowd full of middle-aged woman, talking about my mom was like talking about Bette Midler or Cher to a group of gays. It reeled them in and hooked ‘em immediately.

As the night ended the Priest came up to the podium and told his congregation how powerful the night had been for him. All I could think was that for years I had been turned away by organized religion, always feeling like I was not welcome in their walls. But for one night we all came together to understand that through positive attitudes and seeing past any differences, we can have an incredible impact on those around us. I also was so proud that we were able to spread awareness for a group of girls from so far away and be their voice that so many never hear. As the Priest ended his prayer he said that he wanted to thank us for coming and sharing our story and encouraged his congregation to go out and do what was right. They could all start by going to the poles on Tuesday and voting against gay marriage. Holding back my tears, we couldn’t have gotten out of there faster.

To this day I don’t know what the connection was between these incredibly courageous girls in Ecuador have to do with same-sex couples showcasing their love in America, but I know it opened my eyes. It was a moment I recognized my local community didn’t support me and my husband and that was unfortunately a community we couldn’t raise our children in.

This summer while living in Pasadena, California with our adopted son Hayden a group of older, conservative men at our local Starbucks stopped my husband and I and handed us a card. We often saw them during their morning group coffee outings. For the first few months we lived there they just stared at us, then those stares turned to smiles. Finally one day one of them stopped us and asked, “I hope this isn’t rude but did you adopt that little boy?” At first I wanted to say, well yes it is very rude and yes we did, but there was something about his tone that I felt was simply curiosity. We struck up a conversation about our adoption journey, the birth mom and our thrust into parent-hood when we got the call. Over the course of the next year they always went out of their way to speak to us, give Hayden fist-bumps and cheers’d him with their coffee cups. But it was this one day in June that changed our lives once again. One of the men was a Priest and it was him that handed us a card. We opened it and it was a Wedding Card. All of the guys had seen the Supreme Court announcement and had bought a card and signed it, congratulating Josh and I on our official “marriage.” This time, I couldn’t hold back my tears.

Four years ago, we left our home to start our family. We ran off, scared and sad but excited at the future adventures of parent-hood. Now we board a plane back to that original scene that changed it all for us. Who knows what the future is going to bring, but it’s time we have the same courage those Ecuadorian girls in that orphanage always had shown me. Life must go on and as my favorite quote says, “We must be the change we wish to see in the world.”

Will we have more of these encounters? How will we choose a pediatrician, a school or a new home? Instead of running like last time, this time we want to share it all. LAX to JAX, now boarding. This is our family, our blog….this is Growing Up Hayden. Tune in and join us on the ride.