Valerie: Holidazed

The Holidays saw me running ragged. Not only did I have to do as much as I could to spend time with "my family" - that is, Val's family, which is, you know, my family now, seemingly everyone from my past wanted to crop back up all of a sudden.

It started when Dylan's parents said they were considering visiting New York, and wanted to know if I was still living there and wanted to see my former "kid." I was struck - It feels like multiple lifetimes ago that I was Judith, and being reminded of it brought up unexpected emotions. Echoes of the guilt I felt about whether I was a good parent, nostalgia for having that kiddo in my life, the fraught nature of my relationship with Kitty. I have enough baggage as Valerie now, it's hard to even think of stuff from when I was that person.

But since it came up, I became very excited about the possibility of seeing him. I told his parents to bring him to the subway near my apartment - it would be best if my roomies didn't see any of this - and I could show him around Manhattan for a day.

Dylan arrived with his mom. She put on a friendly, but neutral, face, as we shook hands. I asked how she had been.

"Not bad, all things considered," she sighed, "It's been a long few years. Lots of adjusting. I can't say I'm happy with the way things worked out, but going back to my old body is just... not happening. So this is it for me, and we make the best of it."

"Right," I nodded. I had forgotten that Dylan's parents wound up getting switched, and I supposed their aversion to the Inn made them decide never to try to go back. It would be a lot to expect everyone to thrive this way, I guess, but I hope s/he doesn't bring too much bitterness home. She gave me a few ground rules then went off back to the hotel.

Dylan smiled when he saw me, and stooped down to give me a big hug. "Woah!" he said, "I mean, I've seen pictures, but I totally forgot you look like this now. I still think of you as... well... when you were Judith I could sometimes tell you were a guy in there. But now...?"

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "Well, let's get over our shock. This is me, and yes, I do think of myself as a woman, but I'm still me."

"That's great," he said, "So cool. You know, the kids at my school are just now starting to learn about LGBTQ and gender identity and stuff. It sucks that I can't tell them what I've lived through."

"Yeah, sometimes you really do wish you could explain it to people," I sighed. "By the way, holy crap you got tall. I mean, I got short, but you got tall."

Dylan is 15 now, and stands 6' tall. He told me about his love for basketball, and his other hobbies - he writes now, and does a little bit of music. He played me some stuff off his Soundcloud - not really my thing, but not bad.

We went to some markets, saw the Museum of Natural History, and hit up one of my favorite lunch spots. There was the inevitable moment where I had to take my coat off and he glanced at my chest, but he tried to play it cool and generally kept his eyes north. I get it, they're impressive. For what it's worth, I was wesring a loose sweater, not something that invites attention, but thry do a good enough job of that o their own.

He told me he reads the blog, which makes me a little embarrassed considering most of what I post here is about my sex life.

After lunch, we walked around some more and he told me about his girlfriend.

"It was weird you know. For a long time after I went back, it was like... what am I? I wasn't that into girls before I became one, and by the time I was done being Livie, I kind of did like boys. It took me a long time to sort out... until I met Theresa. Then it was instant."

"I'm happy for you," I said warmly.

He went on, "My parents are worried that hanging out with you is going to make me want to go back to the Inn, because of what you said."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?" I remembered what I said - that someday when he was 18 if he still wanted to, that would be his choice.

"It's tempting," he said. "There was a time I went to bed every night thinking I was gonna be a girl for the rest of my life. I look at Theresa and I see what that would've been like
 Sometimes I get jealous because she's so beautiful. But I'm lucky because I get to be with her."

"So, no going back then," I said, hopefully.

"I don't know. I'm still young. Who knows what I'll want. I'm happy now. But I also know that going back and becoming something else isn't a death sentence."

"Tell that to your dad-- er, mom. Neil."

Dylan snickered. "He's just playing. He thinks if someone like you finds out he doesn't hate being a woman, it's like he lost or something. But he's a lot more like you than he wants to admit. Honestly, I think my mom's almost got him convinced to try for another kid."

"Woahhh," I said, "Now that's a subject I don't need to hear about."

In the end, I told him, that's what the real world is, what every person walking the Earth has to face in one way or another - how much is sucks to feel stuck, but how good it feels to put down roots in the end.

He took this advice in, and reflected on it, then said one more thing. "I'm glad I never got a period."

I wrapped my arm around him. "Be grateful."

For the rest of the holidays, I sleepwalked through some time with "My" Family, and then our little group faced a shakeup as Charli left New York for Brooklyn. Maddie's on-again-off-again boyfriend moved in, which left me feeling crowded and wondering if it's time for me to make a change. I had a pretty interesting year but I was ready for it to end.

More soon

-Val

Tyler/???: Goodbye

Late last night, I was sitting up in bed reading. I was wearing my nightgown, because it was a chilly night and the Inn gets drafty, but I could tell I was changing because suddenly my hair was long enough to get in my eyes, and a much lighter color.

So I stood up, very slowly slipping my feet over the side of the bed. The bed now felt much higher up than it had been when I climbed in. I stood up and got the very weird experience of not being the right height. I was woozy, too, feeling unbalance because I guess my mass was still shifting around. I tiptoed over to the door and try to measure myself against the frame, and I reckoned I lost... 6 or 7 inches? That would put me at 5 foot nothing.

If I was afraid I was de-aging into a minor again, I didn't have to be. I may not be as tall, but I definitely still have an adult's body. I was growing... elsewhere. I could feel my chest expanding, my nightgown tightening against it. I let it drop to the floor and met the girls.

I've been two different women before and I've never had big boobs. Lauren's were basically nothing, and Judith's were quite modest too, so I had the luxury of kind of forgetting about them a lot of the times. But these ones... really aren't. I put my hand under where I thought they would end and tried to smoosh them up against my chest, just to get a sense of their weight, their size and dimensions. They're hefty... more than a handful for this body (it was hard to tell if that was just my hand being smaller or they were really that much bigger. In the end, both.) And they kept getting bigger. I felt this dull throbbing in them as they gained more and more mass, slinking lower and lower on my torso and bulging further outward. The good thing is, my equilibrium returned so I didn't tip over... thank you, low center of gravity.

"Holy shit," I gasped quietly in some mixture of awe at their size and weight, exhaustion that it took so long to subside... and just relief that that that part of the change was over.

I'm not skinny in a stick figure sense - my hips did narrow and become more squarish than Judith's, my butt flatter... but being so small means these things just dominate my physique. This could be... annoying.

I threw my robe on - it was only knee length so it still fit well, but it was still tough to keep cinched on my new proportions.

My room shares a bathroom with Pete, so when I absent-mindedly opened the door, I was face-to-face (well, face-to-torso) with an attractive, slender black woman. I tried to avert my eyes from the scandalous parts but I think Pete didn't care because he/she didn't make any attempt to cover.

"Look at you!" Her eyes lit up at me. "You're so--!! Oh, have you seen??" I didn't even have time to answer before he took me by the shoulders and pointing me at the mirror. My head barely made it into the frame. I stepped up on my tiptoes.

The person in the mirror... her jaw hung open a little bit. This weird mix of pleasure and irritation washed over me because I was... well, pretty. As Judith, I had a mature look, I guess, which could be beautiful at times, but mostly I just looked pissed off, with cold beady eyes and a naturally frowny expression. But this new face is very round and pink, with cute cheeks, soft lips, bright green-blue eyes and long, silky strawberry-blonde hair. I couldn't look mean if I tried. That's... a mixed blessing, I think.

I sighed, resigning myself to cuteness, shortness, and an absurdly large bust. Not the body I would have chosen, but healthy and young. I turned to Pete and forced a smile. "Well, you look--" I cut myself off and clapped my hand over my mouth. My eyes bugged out. Pete tittered. "Did that come out of me?" I gasped as low as possible, muffled by my hand.

"Oh my God your voice is adorable!" she said in her non-cartoony alto, her eyes lighting up. "Say something else!"

"No! I'm never gonna speak out loud ever again!" I hissed in a whisper-shout. As Judith and Lauren, my voice was definitely higher than a man's, but still could be quite husky when I wanted it to be. This was embarrassing. "I sound like Minnie Mouse on helium!"

"You'll get used to it," she said, patting me on the shoulder dismissively. "I'm so pumped. This is just what I wanted. Plus I'm black. That's so cool," she chirped while she teased her frizzy dark curls.

I rolled my eyes at that. It's one thing to be okay with all this. It's something else - borderline inappropriate - to be genuinely excited. but we all process this differently. In a few months, the reality might hit her.

I considered whether to go knock on doors and wake everyone up... particularly I was still feeling a nagging parental need to check on Dylan... or whether I should dig out my new luggage and finally read the letter I was left... but fatigue was hitting me, and if there was an emergency they knew where to find me.

I woke up to a knocking on the door and bright sunlight. A little after 6 AM.

Still in my robe, I went to answer and saw a 13-year-old boy standing over me... towering over me, as it happens. He looked down and his eyes bugged out. "Woah... Tyler?"

I cinched the robe up. "Eyes up here, mister."

"Sorry," he said, looking away.

"Looks like everyhing worked out. Wow, you got really tall," I said.

"Yeah, it's so weird," he said. "I feel so strong and... clumsy."

"You'll get used to it," I smiled. "You're gonna have a great year."

"Yeah," He nodded nervously. "So, uh... we're leaving?"

My eyes bugged out. "What?"

"Yeah... my parents are back to normal and the first thing they did was call a cab so they don't have to stay here anymore."

I was stunned. "I... I guess that's their call."

"Can we text? Keep in touch?"

"Of course," I said. I was fighting back tears. "Someone's got to look out for you. Have you said goodbye to Kitty yet?"

He shook his head. We went across the hall and knocked on her door. Inside was a young woman of Asian descent - Filipina I think. Kitty's new form.

We walked him out to the car. I asked Neil if it was the wisest move to be running off like this after just becoming full grown again. He looked me up and down then rolled his eyes and said they just couldn't stay.

I made the sourest face that my new look would allow and his tone changed. "You were the mom, right? Judith?"

"That's right," I said.

With some reluctance and pain, he said, "Thank you for looking after our boy. It seems like you did a good job." Maybe I was expecting more, but I get that it would be hard to express yourself in that situation. I took what I could get from them.

"You're welcome, Neil." I said, offering my hand.

He shook it and said, "I'm Susan." I stifled a laugh - it happens.

We said our goodbyes. I wrapped my arms around the Kid. I wanted to say something profound but I was at a loss. Kitty, crying more openly than me, told him to eat his vegetables and not stay up too late drinking soda. I added "Be good... and if you can't, don't get caught." He looked embarrassed, but that may be because I no longer resembled his, or anybody else's, mom, and he may have had some mixed feelings about that. After they pulled away, she said she would have to go soon too, as she apparently had a husband waiting for her. She seemed a bit ambivalent about that. I wished her luck. We both really fumbled for words to sum up our complicated, crazy relationship.

"What about you?" she asked. "Where are you headed?"

"I don't know yet," I said. "I'm kind of enjoying this phase where I could just be... nobody."

She called for a ride and told me to visit sometime. Perhaps one day down the line we could be friends. We definitely have a bond. She'll always represent a very important part of my life, whether it was always good or not.

And then it was just me, Pete, Annette, Abbie, Kendra and a few new people. I felt very strange. The day before I was a mother and - technically - a wife. Those aren't things that people are supposed to just... stop being. I wondered if I should be happy or sad, and settled on both.

I went inside and decided to get dressed. I put a pair of high-waisted denim shorts, which exposed a small tattoo on my front left thigh of a bird nesting on a branch, the first of three that I noticed (similar bird-themed ones on my wrist and ankle.) I hurriedly dressed in a tank top that couldn't help but prominently display the "twins," supported by their 32E bra. I felt extremely exposed - like I was doing something wrong by showing so much skin because I wouldn't have done so as Judith. It's gonna be so weird having these things under my face all the time, adjusting my "fashion sense" (such as it is) to a young person's. Pete emerged from his room wearing a multicolored sundress and a big flashy grin.

"I know a good place to get breakfast," she said. "Hungry?"

"Starving," I said.

Tyler/Judith: Late Night Talk

Last night, around 11, The Kid came to my room dressed in her pajamas. I tried to shoo her away - "You can't be here, we have curfew. It's for your own good."

"I can't sleep. I need to talk to somebody," she pouted.

I checked around. There was still at least one vacant room at the Inn. By my count only 11 visitors. There was a risk, but... "Okay. Get dressed and meet me in the car. You hungry?"

Ten minutes later, I was idly driving around Old Orchard Beach looking for an all-night burger place.

"It's safer this way," I said. "We leave the Inn, if two other people arrive there's still a buffer."

We found somewhere to sit and talk, but she seemed to be having a hard time coming out with it.

To put her at ease, I told stories about my youth. "My dad used to take us to places like this when we got a good report card. Didn't happen very often..."

"You were dumb?"

"Not dumb... a bad student, but I knew things. They didn't have good ways of making the distinction back them."

"My teachers say I'm so smart for my age but I'm really not," she sighed. "It's just because I look so young."

"You're good," I said casually. "Better than you think. I've seen your report cards."

"I'm really scared," she finally said.

"Scared of what?"

"I don't know," she said, averting her eyes, "Scared to go through with this. I know it's stupid but... what if something goes wrong? What if they lied and I'm not getting my body back? What if I have to go through another year of faking it? What if I have to be a grown up or--" she made a disgusted face, "One of my parents?"

I sighed. "It's... possible. But unlikely." In reality, I wasn't sure I could be certain but I needed the kid to feel secure.

She looked at me cold, and slouched down.

"I'm just worried. Maybe it's safer if we don't do this."

I scoff. "Pfft. Sure, that will go over real well."

"Tyler I'm serious! Don't treat me like a kid here. Kitty told me people are out there stealing other peoples' lives. It happened to you!"

"That's irrelevant," I said more sternly.

"I don't wanna be sad the rest of my life because I had to give this life back to some dumb girl!"

"What, are you happier now?" I scoffed. "You want to grow up as Olivia?"

"A little bit!" she said. "It freaks me out how good it's been to me. People like me, I have friends. They think I'm smart and funny. Nobody noticed me as Dylan."

"That's not true, you've told me you had lots of friends."

"Some friends," she practically spat. "Didn't even notice I wasn't me all year."

"That's not their fault," I snapped, losing my temper somewhat.

"There's no point in being Dylan. He's never going to be anything. This way, I could grow up and be, like, popular. People are always telling me how cute I am, you know. How Olivia is growing into a 'fine young woman.' I bet Olivia's going to be real hot. People will like me better. I can have whatever I want."

"Dylan!" I hissed. "I can't believe I have to tell you any of this. There's more important things in life than being a pretty face. You can be anything you want. But if I did anything right during this year... anything at all... I didn't raise you to be a body thief. There's a scared little girl out there in the wrong body and you owe her that one. When you're 18, if this Inn is still standing, and I bet it will be... you will be free to come back do what you want. Unlimited do-overs. Trust me though, it doesn't bring happiness."

There was a long pause. It was one of the most angry I've ever been with the kid. I looked around, self-consciously, worried that people were noticing, and collected myself.

Sheepishly, she asked, "Do you think you'll ever be happy?"

"Maybe," I sighed.

"When you're a guy again?"

I shook my head slightly. "Being a guy isn't everything. I was a shitty one of those, too. I'll be happy when I'm free to choose my own path again, no matter how I look. But I don't know when that will be. For you, you can have that as Dylan. if not, when you're 18, if this place is still around, feel free to come back. It's your life. But I bet in five years, you won't remember what it was like to be Olivia, and the idea of going back to the Inn on purpose will seem laughable."

"What if I don't get to go back to being myself?" she said, sniffling.

"Then we'll deal with it. You can join me here every year until we get it right. But promise me you'll try to be happy as yourself, if you're fortunate enough to walk out of here this week that way. Because I don't have that choice."

Another long pause, and then, "Ok. I promise."

Sometimes I forget the kid is older than he looks. Still a kid though.

I drove him back to the Inn. I sent him in first and waited a few minutes for him to get situated, then followed, just in case. The last thing he said was, "I'm scared I won't be good at being a guy now that I've been a girl."

I smirked. "Buddy... I bet you'll be even better."

Tyler/Judith: Maine 2017 Day 1

It was a long, quiet trip up. We were all in a daze by the time the family Mazda pulled up to the Trading Post Inn. Dylan was deep in a teen fantasy book in the back. I was picking crumbs out of my bra from the sandwich I had finished while in the car. And Kit was on his third attempt to reverse into the parking spot. He did not appreciate me trying to give pointers.

The lot was half-full, which seemed good to me. It's the middle of the week, so I didn't expect everyone to be arrived already, but I was hoping we wouldn't be alone. There are three of us in thee separate rooms, so the potential for loneliness was Shining-esque.

As we unloaded our gear from the trunk - Kitty attempting to carry my bags for me, but me declining (and later regretting it) - we were met at the front entrance by a familiar couple: the "O'Rileys," aka Abbie and Kendra, with their 4 and 6-year-olds hanging by their sides.

"Hey there," I said, letting out a huge sigh of relief. "Can you believe we're all back?"

"Not yet," Kendra said. "Give it a few nights and we'll really be able to say that."

I embraced them both in big hugs, then bent down to see Neil and Susan. "Hi... do you guys remember me? Do you know what's about to happen?"

"Don't talk down to me," snapped Neil in the voice of an adorably irritated moppet. "I know why we' he'uh."

"Yeah, uh, it seems like they've really regained a lot of awareness lately," Abbie said. "The more we talked about going back to the Inn, the more they kind of... snapped out of it."

"They've gotten really sassy lately," Kendra added. "They're excited, to say the least."

I told them I thought they should be writing on the blog about all that, but they said they preferred to keep things a little private.

Neil and Susan rushed over to Dylan and started peppering him with questions - how did he feel about going back, was he eating enough, did he have friends at school, were we being good to him.  Not that I have anything to be ashamed of but I kind of hope they don't go back through this blog.

"And how are you and Kitty doing? Has it been awkward?" Abbie asked.

"Um, we've been making it work," I said, trying to put the question down as best I could. No, it hasn't been easy, but we're two reasonable people who mostly don't totally hate each other. There's a lot of reasons why it didn't work for us - twice. That hasn't kept bitterness from creeping in (on occasions where we have to be around each other for long spans of time - like, say, a car ride from NH to Maine - we tend not to speak.)

I turned the question around. "What about, um... you two?"

They both scoffed. "Us? We're good, obviously."

"Are you, uh... do you mind me asking? Did you ever..."

"Hook up?" Abbie said, chucking a hoarse, male laugh. "Let's just say, we managed."

They gave each other a knowing smile and suddenly I was afraid to ask for more details.

Nobody else arrived all day, although we did run into Annette/Benjamin. He had plans with Jordan and his brother (her brother? Sister?) who didn't come all the way to the front door of the Inn, I'm guessing out of skittishness based on recent events. He offered us a chance to hang out with them but we kind of collectively rain-checked. They wanted to make it a late night and I think everyone here has a pretty early bedtime... plus I feel like the collective mood among that group is a little less excited than this one, given recent events.

Kendra and I went to pick up Chinese food for the whole group, since we didn't want to deal with the fuss of having all the kids with us at a restaurant. When we got back, Kit had retired to his room. After dinner we showed the kids to theirs and illustrated exactly where they had to stay to get their correct bodies back... as far as we knew.

After dinner pretty much everyone retired, but I couldn't sleep so I got dressed and headed down to a bar I had been to a few times over the years - probably not the same one Annette & Co were going to hit. It was a pretty lively place for a Thursday night. I sat at the bar, ordered a vodka tonic, and sipped it quietly while watching baseball highlights on the TV.

I was about two sips in when this guy sidles up to me.

"What's a lady like you doing alone in a place like this?"

I looked him over. Cheesy-looking guy, overly-stylish hair, wearing a suit with his shirt unbuttoned one too far.

I might have been furious at his imposition but I haven't actually been hit on that much as Judith, so I was more confused than anything. I gave him this look, like 'Are you talking to me?'

"Oh, I swear I'm not coming onto you," he backed off a little, then added. "I don't hit on married women."

I looked at my hand. The ring was off, and had been for weeks since Kitty and I broke things off. There was a slight tanline there but he would have had to be Sherlock Holmes to spot it.

"How did you..."

"It's Judith, right? ... For a little while longer?"

I got this very nauseated feeling. My eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"We've never met," his expression got more innocent, "I'm just a fan. I really admire what you do."

"And... what do I do?"

"Come on, Jude," he said, stressing my name and making me even more irritated. "The blog. If you don't want people reading it, you shouldn't be writing there."

"Touche," I said through gritted teeth.

"Don't be so sour," he said, ordering a beer for himself. "We're in the same boat, and I'm never getting my old self back. My name's Pete. Well, it used to be, get me? I've been to the Inn a few times myself. But you're lucky."

"How's that?" I scoffed.

"It's like you told Dylan, a long time ago. You've been on both sides now. That's a good thing. I keep getting these boring average dude lives. It stinks."

I muttered, "Wanna trade?"

He smiled, a bit more warmly and let out a guffaw, "I wish! But I think Judith is spoken for. And so is this guy. For a little longer. Just gonna have to roll the dice again. Like I said, same boat."

"Well," I rolled my eyes, "Be careful what you wish for."

"Come on," he took a big swig of his beer, "You can't tell me... if you had woken up that first time, as just some other guy... and then the next year, as some other guy, a little older... but you knew that there were people out there having experiences like yours? Being Lauren and Judith and... whatever else... you wouldn't be intrigued? You wouldn't be curious? You wouldn't think, shit, my life has been so boring, I'd love to at least try it?"

"I never had a chance to think about it that way," I said flatly. "Don't take your good fortune for granted."

"I think I'd be good at it, you know," he said. "After everything I've read from you guys? And my own research. If I knew it was coming. I could totally adapt."

"Seriously Pete, or whatever your name is... it's not all it's cracked up to be. The novelty wears off, and then you're just... well, you realize how different it really is."

He shrugged and said cryptically, "We're all different."
I asked, "Have you checked in yet?"

"Not yet," he said, "Just got to town. What about you... any idea what's coming?"

I shook my head. The remains of my locks whipped back and forth, so I grabbed a hair tie from my purse and pulled it back. The humidity was making me frizz out insanely.

"Scared to look?"

"Been a busy day."

"That's code for scared. What room are you in?" I told him and he lit up. "Right next to mine!"

"Great... No offense, but if we end up as a married couple, I'm divorcing your ass," I said, half-kidding.

That got a chuckle. "Fair. No more fake marriages for you. What if you're my kid?"

"I'll run away. Put myself up for adoption."

"Sounds great. Very sensible and not at all dangerous," he snickered, putting his hand on my shoulder in a show of familiarity that was still kinda uncomfortable given we had just met for the first time. "It's gonna be okay, Tyler. We're both old pros at this."

"Well, I'm looking forward to retirement," I said, downing the rest of my drink. "Hey, mind giving me a lift to the Inn? It's a long hike and I'm not wearing the right shoes."

"You got it," he said, and left his own drink unfinished.

We stopped by the Check-in kiosk a few blocks down the road so he could get his key and we walked to our rooms.

I still haven't looked. I wrote all this out, now I'm tired, and I'm ready for bed. I don't have the energy to put up with all the likely disappointment I'm facing. I'll look tomorrow.

Tyler/Judith: Hold your breath

It's Sunday night. I'm in a situation that still feels unreal to me: desperately trying to pick an outfit for dinner. It used to be so easy, and Kit knows it. He's on the bed, dressed in his shirt and tie, his black socks wafting in the air while I'm charging back and forth. Is it too cold out for this? Am I gonna be comfortable?

"The purple dress," he says. "I always love you in that."

"Yeah, and I know why," I snicker. "Look at this neckline. That's a good reason to put it back."

"Aw, why?"

"Because Kip is gonna spend the whole night ogling my chest, no matter what. I don't to give him more ammo."

Kip is Adrian's brother who most definitely has a crush on Judith. It's incredibly sad and upsetting and a big contributor to why we haven't exactly kept things cozy with that side of the family. But tonight it's a big family dinner and we've got to go.

"I'll sit between you two," he huffs, half-jokingly I think. "He'll behave. And I'll get the show."

"You get the show no matter what," I snap back.

He has a retort of his own, "Not always. You make me work for it."

"Damn right I do," I say. I slip it on over my head. Predictably, my boobs come falling out, my bra is visible. You get so used to seeing women in movies and TV and magazines who have their outfits perfectly chosen for them, you don't think about how sometimes nothing just goes together. You need a goddamned masters degree in fashion sometimes to put together an outfit - a really nice one - that "goes."

I slip it off. I prefer a more modest light blue top. It's silky, so I like the fabric, it covers everything and goes with everything. Kit makes a face. "What?" I ask.

"I've never liked that one," he sighs, "Simply not flattering, I don't know what Judith was thinking when she bought it."

I huff dejectedly, "She didn't. I bought this one."

She reaches into the closet and pulls out a shear dark green top. I roll my eyes. We're back to square one, because everyone can see my bra in it.

"That's what the blazer is for," he says with a smile. I nod, okay, that will work. He adds, "There's a really nice knee-length knee-length skirt in there to finish it off."

I don't particularly feel like wearing the skirt. I haven't shaved my legs. I don't have anything against the garment in general. I'm over any kind of male-born aversion to girly clothes. Bring it all on, but make it comfortable. Instead, I opt for slacks.

Kitty gives me that face and says I look like I'm going to a job interview. I roll my eyes and insist I look fine, but a look in the mirror makes me doubt that.

I can't believe I'm about to utter these words but I do: "I feel fat."

I feel up my belly. I twist and look at the way my hips balloon out and project into a big round butt. I'm used to looking this way, and honestly it's not so bad, but I don't feel "fat" until my clothes don't fit right. Make no mistake, if I had been incarnated as a huge lumberjack of a woman I would have made due without shame, I think. But there's something about this situation that makes you feel the pounds and inches you gain after you get here, and Judith's body is pretty prone to fluctuations. Basically, I want my clothes to fit. It's a real kick in the tits when you have that notification that you're getting bigger, you're having an effect on this body. It feels unforgiving. I suck in as best I can. This isn't going to work.

"I'm sure you have something more forgiving," Kitty says. He's trying to be reassuring, but he's not.

"No, never mind, I'll wear the damn spanx," I grumble, dropping trow so that I can put on something restrictive that will keep me from breathing properly all night but at least allow me to fit in these damn pants. Then I have to find shoes to wear with it. Two-inch black pumps. Why does everything have to suck?

We go out, and it's a nice enough time. Nobody notices I'm being quiet. I order the salmon because it seems light. The Kid wants to order off the adult menu but I remind her that she wasn't able to finish the steak she ordered last time we tried that. Kitty says there's no shame in the doggie bag, and I say fine, knock yourself out.

Kip is ogling me no matter what I wear. I wonder if Judith ever felt flattered and encouraged it.

We get home. I'm definitely too tired to have sex, but we do kiss and cuddle a bit. I think about what an ordeal just going out for a night is sometimes. I toss and turn, and then I'm up half the night re-living my salmon. Not on purpose - I'm not trying to slim down, I just can't keep it down. Kitty sleeps through the whole thing. Between retches I pull my hair back into a ponytail so it doesn't get chunks in it.

On monday morning a thought occurs to me and I can't get it out of my head. I'm gaining weight, I'm getting sick, I'm a bit moodier maybe. I'm trying to remember when was my last period. I'm not on the pill and they tend to be erratic. I swear it's been less than a month. Once I went over 5 weeks between them, but that was before Kit and I were even doing it so I didn't think twice.

I happen to check the blog and see Jonah's post about his/her little baby girl.

I find myself at the pharmacy in the "Family planning" aisle. The pregnancy test seems like an unnecessary expense, right? My period will come any day now. So much grief and embarrassment in bringing it to the cashier, it's not worth it. I'm worrying about nothing.

I buy it and take it home. I couldn't even look the cashier in the eye as I did so, I can't even pretend I'm hoping for a positive to decrease the awkwardness. I drink two glasses of water, more than necessary. I'm shaking. This can't be happening. I'm only months away from getting out of here. I can't screw this up, for me and Judith and everybody. I can't get stuck here like Jonah. Even if what Kitty and I have is for real, we are not meant to stay in these bodies.

I pee on the stick. The two minutes it takes to reveal the result are the worst I have felt in years. Worse than waiting to find out how your body is transforming. Worse than whatever it was that drove me to walk out on Meg. Every problem I've ever had seems so small in this moment.

It's negative.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I feel like I've just been found not guilty of a federal crime. I look again. Still negative. Breathe. My heart and stomach settle back out of my throat.

I put the test back in the box, and put the box in a bag and I walk to a nearby park and throw it out. I think about what, if anything, to tell Kitty. I do plan on saying something about it, but I had to get rid of the evidence just so that he wouldn't find it first and ask about it. I need to control this.

I'm still very shaken. I walk home, sit down, breathe for twenty minutes, then look at the calendar and count the days until we go back... again.

Tyler/Judith: How to Parent

I feel like I've gotten the hang of parenting, although I've had it easy... my "child" is a 13-year-old boy in an 11-year-old girl's body, so his maturity outstrips his appearance and place in life, and a lot of the groundwork was already laid by his real parents. All I gotta do is keep him on the right track and encourage him when he has doubts. I don't even feel like him getting suspended is a failure on my part, it's just part of growing up. No, I don't want Dylan to go around thinking it's ok to pick fights, but telling someone "don't do that" isn't as effective in my book as showing them the consequences of fighting.

Apparently, the kids at school are already calling Olivia "Psycho Girl" which... I mean, Dylan seems to be wearing it as a badge of honor, and to be honest I can't blame him... that's a killer nickname. But anyway, fighting is wrong, two wrongs don't make a right, and all that.

Kitty is pushing hard for a stronger punishment. Can't say I blame him... suspension is basically a weeklong vacation. But what can you do? Not what my daddy used to do to me, that's for damned sure. So the kid is spending some time with me at work, and some time with Kit at the office, and some time with her grandma - the old Portuguese one who will make her work in the garden.

The ladies at the office all love "Livie" of course, she's such a little angel. So again this is not much of a punishment since we're not exactly making her answer phones or do filing or anything. But she does have to sit quietly for long expanses, which is prison for a kid, so I guess we won this one. Maybe the other gals shouldn't be slipping her M&Ms from the vending machine but hey, in prison you get access to a library.

This whole situation has inspired too many long late-night conversations between me and Kitty, exhausting ones where we go round and round about what the best course of action is... about how we should get on the same page and all that. At least he's got the decency not to refer to my upbringing anymore.

I also got some unsolicited advice from an outside source... Mrs. Chernobek called me to follow-up on my conversation with her husband. And she was not happy. Apparently, according to him, I lectured about how they should be raising their son, and "What right do I have," "Where do I get off" and all that shit.

I was surprised to hear this from the mom - I thought she'd be a bit more sensitive to the way her son is treating girls, so I tried to explain, "What Tyler did really hurt Olivia, and if you had a daughter, wouldn't you feel like she had been wronged?"

"Well as a matter of fact," she said, "I do have a daughter and she would never get into that situation because she doesn't let boys in her room and wouldn't let them take her personal property. Maybe you should reconsider the lessons you're teaching yours."

I wanted to scream. You blame Olivia for this? Shit, lady, it was your son she let into her room, doesn't it bother you how he behaved? The boy's a perv, own up to it! She's innocent, and as far as you know, she's a lot younger than him so she doesn't have the defenses... and frankly "she" shouldn't be expected to have her defenses up anyway because she thought she had a friend, not a panty-thief.

Basically, the lesson they're sending is: boys can be assholes and get away with it, especially to girls. And she's going to be a boy again soon, so I'm hoping she doesn't take that lesson back with her, and instead remembers the hurt that caused and vows never to put it on someone of the opposite gender. Or anyone for any reason.

Now I'm getting all worked up. We ended the conversation abruptly because otherwise I felt like I might go over there and throw a rock at her myself. Okay, so I do seem to still have a lot of growing to do, but the fact that I didn't do any of that, just took an angry lap around the block and cooled off shows I've grown as a person.

I got shamed for trying to tell someone else how to be a parent, and then I got shamed for how I parent. It seems like there's no right way to parent any more than there's a right way to be a woman... which is to say there isn't one, everyone's always going to be telling you you're doing it wrong.

Ugh, screw all this. It's wine-in-the-bath time.

Tyler/Judith: Suspension

Friday, I got a call from the school that Olivia had been taken to the Principal's Office and that I would have to come pick her up. I guess the upside of only working 2.5 days per week is that you don't necessarily have to interrupt anything important to do that. But it was a shock, since the Kid has only gotten more docile and well-behaved since being Olivia. Restless to get back to the Inn, sure, but a model student.

So I got to the office and found her and her friend Tyler being watched by the secretary. They were several seats apart, unwilling to look at each other. I could tell pretty much what had happened but I needed the details. When I arrived, she looked up, I could tell she'd been crying: "Mom!" She ran over and hugged me, burying her face in my chest.

Normally, the Kid just calls me Ty (to Kitty's consternation). Obviously, we're out in the world so she has to call me "mom," but I felt the emotion behind it. Something had happened that was going to require me to be very motherly. My stomach churned. I hoped I could handle it. I also felt a hot hatred for Tyler, if he did something to hurt my kid.

The Vice Principal, a stout black woman, opened the door to her office. "Come right in, Mrs. Walker. Bring Livie with you." Livie? That's what she goes by at school? Oh well.

I steeled myself. "So, what exactly happened?"

"There was a fight," the VP, Mrs. Thompkins said. "Between Livie and that boy out there, Tyler Chernobek."

"WHAT?" My eyes went wide at that. I looked over at "Livie." She was hanging her head.

"Livie was the aggressor," Mrs. Thompkins said, "But it was... in response to... hmm... well, Tyler stole some property of your daughter's."

I pursed my lips. "What did he steal?"

"He stole a pair of her underwear."

I felt sick to my stomach. That kid is two years older than "Livie," no matter how old Dylan is mentally. He's been in my house, he's been in her room.

"When she found out, instead of telling a teacher, she threw a rock at him and chased him down and bit him."

"You bit him?"

The Kid shrugged.

"We have to issue your daughter a one-week suspension."

"Oh, come on..." I rolled my eyes. "She's like eighty pounds, she's two years younger, this wasn't a fight it was..."

"There are policies in place, Mrs. Walker," she said. "Honestly, if it weren't for the mitigating circumstances, it could be a lot worse."

"Well, fine," I huffed, "Are you punishing that little punk out there?"

"The theft occurred off school property, and he didn't instigate the fight, but he will be forced to issue a formal apology."

"Great," I rolled my eyes. "He types out a note and you guys just... I, I'm sorry, this is a bit stressful, I know you're just doing your job." The words sounded like bitter defeat as I said them.

"I'm sure you're blindsided," she said, "Livie is a model student, her instances of acting out have really decreased lately."

I didn't want to say that seemed to be because she was making friends. I guess that's all over now.

I signed off on some stuff - trying to remember how to do my "Judith" signature - and walked Judith out of the building, past a very unapologetic-looking Tyler Chernobek.

In the car I mustered up a half-hearted lecture about using your words and not lashing out like that, but I was so worked up and offended by that brat's actions that I really couldn't justify it to myself.

At the end of it, all I could say was, "You really bit him?"

She shrugged and said bitterly, "When I was punching him it just made him laugh."

Savage, as the kids say.

At dinner, I had to update Kit about it, and I honestly dreaded it. Kit is so... ugh. He really tries to get everything to his specifications and to mold us into his model little family, I could tell he was not going to like this. And I was right. So first he offered a much more fiery version of the same lecture I already gave (ignoring me when I cut in with "I already said that, she already knows.") Then we sent her to bed early.

Then Kitty turned on me.

He wasn't angry, he didn't yell, but... man, was he pissed. "This is you," he said, "Your influence. You're like that, totally temperamental, won't let anything get in your way, don't know how to deal with pressure..."

I was insulted, but I tried not to let it show - contrary to the picture he was painting of me. Hey, I said, don't blame me, I've been a good woman. Nice, patient, calm. I'm different and I impart that on her. You're the one ranting and raving.

He went on and on about letting my upbringing influence my "parenting" more than I know. I clenched my teeth and told him he didn't know what he was talking about and I'd be sleeping in the spare room tonight. He said I misunderstood and was taking it all the wrong way, but I told him it was too late and I needed to be alone anyway.

In the spare room, Dylan/Olivia came to me saying she couldn't sleep and she had something to say. She asked if I was mad at her, and I said no... honestly I couldn't blame her but I couldn't tell her that was the right thing to do. Then she said she heard what Kit was saying to me and said it wasn't fair...

"It's like he forgets you guys aren't my real parents. I've been like this for a while, sometimes I just... lose it. I've got my own shit going on. None of this is your fault."

"Thanks."

"It's my fault."

I said not to take it too hard.

Then she elaborated: "I knew he took it. I didn't say anything because he was my friend and I didn't want to make him mad, and the more I thought about it the more I thought it was kinda cool. I didn't know he was going to show them to everyone at school. All the boys I mean. Suddenly, it was not so cool."

I groaned. "Dylan... did you have a crush on Tyler? Were you trying to... entice him somehow?"

"Ew, no," she scoffed. "I don't want that. This body and him? Me? I don't like anybody, boys or girls. I just wanted to like, be friends. Honestly, if he likes me that way in this body there's probably something wrong with him."

"Well, I can tell you," I said, barely able to hold back a laugh - despite being confused, exhausted, angry and annoyed at this revelation, "That's not how you make friends. OK?"

"Yeah," she said. "OK."

We hugged it out, and she went to bed, and the mood improved between us. It took longer for me and Kit to hash things out. I basically just said "Forget about it, it's over, let's move on." If we can, of course.

I mean, part of being in a relationship is getting through these little flare-ups, right?

The last thing I had to do over the weekend was to call Mr. Chernobek and let him know what his son was up to (of course he did hear all about it) and that his son wouldn't be welcome over here in the future. He said of course, that makes sense.

He said he was going to have a talk with his son about other people's property and privacy, and I said that was good, and hopefully he can improve his respect for women.

He was a bit more dismissive about that, just saying "Mmhm, well, you know, boys will be boys."

That tensed me up, and I told him that this was a serious violation and the whole "boys will be boys" attitude needed to change where these matters were concerned. He curtly thanked me for my opinion and cut our conversation short.

After the conversation, that really stuck with me. How much shit did I get away with as a kid because "boys will be boys?" Maybe in the grand scheme of things, that's how I wound up here to begin with...

Tyler/Judith: Spa Day

So, back in December, Kitty got me a Spa Day as a gift. It was a nice thought, keeping with our (not totally successful) pact to get each other gifts we didn't have to leave with these lives, and I know it was a really special gift, but I had to convince myself to get into it. Don't get me wrong, I love to relax and I could do with being pampered, but... well, I guess part of me thought that somehow it was all too girly to have mudbaths and cucumber facemasks and whatever. Which is absurd. My existence should probably prove that "girly" and "manly" don't really mean much in the grand scheme of things. Should having a vagina mean that I should be interested in a spa treatment? Maybe not. But should the fact that I once had a penis be a reason not to enjoy it? As if someone was going to take away my "man card"?

I was still a bit bashful and putting it off because, well, I didn't want to go alone. And part of me thought maybe Kitty would like me to ask him along and we could do a "couples" thing, but he specifically didn't buy a couples' package, so I thought... there's an opportunity here, to reach out to someone I haven't seen in a while.

My sister, Carrie.

Growing up, I was always very close with her, because my brothers were older they were mostly out of the house by the time she was born, and I was already growing into a bit of a black sheep. We stuck close together until I left the South for good a few years ago - so much so that she followed me to the Inn and wound up in Meghan's body. (Sometimes I wonder about the near-miss there... what if she had become me? Leaving aside the awkwardness of her living in her big bro's body for nearly a year, I would have been sure to get it back, and then what? We'll never know.) Distance, and the craziness of living with a magical body-transforming curse, kind of cooled communication between us... as did the fact that she was more sympathetic to Meg (the sister she never had, essentially) when we split... not that I blame her, I was an ass.

I could have invited Meg, but even though the lines of communication are open there, I still wasn't sure I could handle reaching out that way. Carrie, though, has been an important person for almost my whole life. Not being in touch with her feels wrong. And the fact that she's the only person who knew me well before the Inn who also knows my secret is also pretty important. Not everybody gets to have that.

And she had been on my case to let her meet me as Judith at least once.

She was happy to visit, she really fell for New England during her time here, and managed to roll a visit with Meg into the deal. She spent the night there before driving down to Concord to see me.

When she arrived and I opened the door, I caught this look in her eye, like she was afraid of who was going to answer - she knows her favorite brother is now a woman (again) and a bit older with a Kid, and she follows along the blog as best she can. There was nothing for her to be afraid of, but I guess there was still that sinking feeling in your gut you get when you try to square your mental image of someone, who you think they are, with who they appear to be now. She audibly gasped.

"Care!" I grinned.

"Ty!" she threw her arms around me in a warm hug. She's grown into a fine woman, really looking like she's got it together, and even in her sweater and coat she looked... well, I guess radiant is the word. If I didn't have Judith's Portuguese toasted-marshmallow complexion, we might even look like sisters. We were eye to eye for the first time in our entire lives.

"I can't believe this is you!" she said while we were still clinched together. "I mean, you live like this, you look like this! I know you've been here for a while... and you've been a girl before, but... this is so unreal!"

"Tell me about it," I said, practically tearing up, "Sometimes I forget, and then remember... how crazy my life is. All that I've been through."

She separated and took a good look at my face. She seemed to like what she saw.

"I think you're crazy, you don't look old at all," she said, referring to certain remarks I've made about Judith's looks on the blog and in private, "Not a day over forty!"

"Uh, I'm not forty," I said, knowing she was just ribbing me.

"And your hair looks beautiful, so silky and long..."

"Thanks, it's hard work."

I showed her around the house, Kit was having breakfast in the kitchen and was very cordial - cornily kissing her hand. Carrie, like many of you, has gotten my mixed reviews about Kit, but we are getting to a real honeymoon phase so I permitted myself to gush about how good things have been lately.

"The sex you two must have, I bet it's wild..." she giggled. I told her the less said the better, reminding her I'm still her sibling. Kit looked vaguely shocked, and personally I was a bit too to hear my little sis talk that way, but I disguised it.

Then I brought her to meet the Kid. "Hi there, you must be Olivia... or should I say Dylan."

Dylan looked suspicious. "Um... hi."

"Dyl, I told you before, my sister would be coming by. My real sister. She knows all about us because she's been through it too."

"Oh right," she said. "So, you're, like... my aunt?"

"Um, okay! Let's call me that." Carrie smiled. She had a gift for Dylan, some chocolate - she admitted she wasn't sure what to bring, but I assured her that the Kid definitely has a sweet-tooth. I explained the Kid's bashfulness by explaining my theory that she likes to pretend she was never a guy, because it makes things easier, so talking to people who know she is formerly a guy makes him self-conscious about his girly trappings.

Reflecting on the fact that I was walking my sister around the house in ladies' apparel and heels, I had to admit there was a point there.

We drove to the spa together. I asked how the family back home was doing, and she said about what I would have expected... this nephew is starting high school, that nephew made quarterback, apples of their daddies' eyes. Apparently I've got a niece who is turning out to be a bit of a punk rock rebel (and her parents suspect, a lesbian,) which I am genuinely sorry to be absent for.

I took a deep breath. "Look, if there's any news about the other Tyler... I don't think I want to hear it, okay? It's really hard, and I think life is easier if I just pretend he's not out there." Perhaps I was taking a page from the book of Dylan.

"Well, that's ok," she said, "Because there's no news as far as I know. He lit out long ago and never looked back."

"Good, I guess," I huffed.

"Can't say I blame him either," Carrie sighed, "Your old friends beat him nearly to death, stabbed him, ran him over, left him on life support... Guess he got the message that he wasn't wanted in 'Bama."

"Uh huh," I huffed.

"Scary to think that could have been you," she said.

"I wouldn't have been so stupid," I said. "They weren't going to leave Alabama to find me, bigger fish to fry. But he was an asshole who got what he deserved." My tone was getting pretty serious and I could tell it was spooking Carrie, who never liked knowing about my, er, sketchy past. I added, "I would have gone back. Even with that hanging over my head, I never would have hesitated. It's his fault for not playing ball."

"Okay, okay, you don't need to convince me," she said. "So now nobody in the family knows where he is, and we kind of... just don't talk about it."

"Mhmmm," I muttered. I would have suspected that none of them would miss me much if I just fell off the face of the Earth. Sure I was family but I was the Family Screw-up, someone that was a bit of a problem, even when I was doing fine.

We arrived at the spa soon after and changed the topic to more exciting matters... she asked me how I liked being a "mommy" and I gave her some of my observations, made a few jokes about how I got the easiest part of it and how I'm lucky I wasn't stuck with a toddler.

We signed in and were ushered to the change room to put on our plush white robe.

I looked around... there wasn't many ways to hide, so I blushed a bit and faced backwards.

"You're so awkward," she snickered behind me. "Same stiff old you in there."

"I'm sorry I don't really want to see my sister naked," I sighed.

"Whatever, we're all girls here," she said. "You're a married woman and I don't have anything you don't see in the mirror every day."

I angled my head just so that she could at least see the glare in my eyes, "That was true when I was a man and I didn't make a point to look around the change room then either."

"Okay, fine," she said after a second, "You can turn around now."

I did - except she was messing with me, standing there waiting for me, with her hands on her hips laughing her fool head off, naked as the day she was born and on display. "Damnit, Carrie, not funny!"

I shielded my eyes, but thought I had seen something that caused me to look through my fingers at her.

I gasped. "You're pregnant!" Somehow it struck me and I was sure, rather than having to ask.

I might not have noticed if I weren't a woman - call it intuition or whatever, but I guess I'm attuned to these things now, even if I didn't exactly have a photographic memory for how Carrie usually looked. The change was subtle, but telling. It didn't look like normal "weight gain."

"Wow, glad you finally noticed," she smiled, "I only had to strip naked for you to tell."

"How long?"

"Three months and a bit," she said.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You're not supposed to tell anyone before three months," she said, "And I was working up to it."

"And this is how you chose to tell me."

"Oh, just channeling my inner Beyoncé I guess," she laughed, cinching up her robe.

"This is huge," I said, then frowned at the implications. "The father?"

"He's around," she said, dodgily, "He's a good guy. We're gonna make it work."

"Oh, Carrie," I sighed, deflated.

"Don't give me that," she said a bit more harshly, "This is my call. I'm happy with it. I want this."

"You want this," I said back, "Fine. No lectures here."

"Good," she said. "See you out there."

Mostly my head was spinning almost too much to enjoy the spa... I say almost because having your every body part tended to does manage to put one in a relaxed state of mind. Maybe she's still little sis to me, but I warmed up to it. She's got a good job and if this guy is as stable as she says, it could work out.

Really, I'm the last person who should be telling anyone how to live their lives... I've had four of them and they're all messed up. I suppose I might be good for some parenting advice, but really I got a very unique perspective on that so I'm not sure my observations are much help.

As we drove home, refreshed, rejuvenated and relaxed, she asked what was next. I told her, we have a big scheme to get everybody back to their rightful place and I think we have a decent shot at pulling it off... except me and Kitty, who don't have rightful places anymore, so I reckon we'll just... keep floating.

"And Kitty's a good person to float with?"

I smiled a bit, almost as if I was surprised to hear myself say, "Actually, yeah. He's been good lately, I think that's the kinda person I need in my life sometimes."

She leaned over and gave me a big hug. "I never would have pictured it. I mean, none of this of course... you looking like this, acting like this... but I know it's you in there. I can still tell. You're doing a good job, Ty."

"Thanks," I said. "I can hardly believe it myself."

As she left, she looked back and smiled, "I always wanted a sister. You make a good one."

I sighed and smiled wearily, "I'll take that as a compliment."

Tyler/Judith: If you're going to do it, do it right

The whole business between me a Kitty the other night wasn't really as simple as throwing some confetti in the air and announcing to the world, "Hooray, I like sex now!" From the moment it ended I was grappling with the heavy implications of what I had done, or let happen. Good for Simon for finding random encounters that he can dabble with without long term connections. I have to see this person every day, and I hadn't even officially said I really wanted to be with them.

I wouldn't say my immediate feeling was 100% disappointment or regret, but those were parts of it. Disappointment because it was... more cathartic than sexually enjoyable. And you only get that once. He wasn't good, and I wasn't good. He got "in" and didn't hardly know how to move before the clock ran out. And I was, well... not that accommodating either. But is bad sex even really bad? Just... you know, different. Not what was expected, necessarily.

He apologized profusely, and I said it wasn't necessary. It happened to everyone, and just because Kitty appears to be a man of a certain age, we know he does not have the expected level of experience for that person. On the contrary, we're total beginners, here. And I think we know how much of a learning curve there is for this sorta thing. Just ask Maggie Dolan down in Mobile about 16-year-old Tyler Blake.

As to regret, well, the thought occurred to me that I had wrecked a good thing. That there was a way to get through the rest of our term here without complicating it with sex and emotions. That even if he really does love me, that maybe that love would be better off waiting for a time when we don't have such a complex dynamic. I've been known to screw up and bail when things go poorly, and right now too many peoples' lives depend on me to fall prey to that urge. (Kit's advice: so just don't this time.) And I'd be lying if I said my male pride didn't like the idea of outlasting the female body without ever crossing that threshold. But I think even readers who have never crossed the gender barrier will understand that when you have a new appliance, you can only go so long before the temptation to see how it really works overwhelms you. It don't make me less of a man, it just makes me human.

"I don't regret it," I said... probably not that reassuring. I initiated it, I pointed myself at it. I wanted it. I knew he would have me anytime I allowed it to happen, and I knew it just... had to be this way. So how can I regret it? Better this way.

So we're gonna do it again, as is our right as consenting adults. I went to the drug store, to the marital aid aisle (for my pill, initially,) and decided to pick up some accessories. Nothin' fancy, but some stuff that might make your sunday school teacher blush. Condoms, obviously. A lot of em. I'd consider the pill - I heard it'd help ease some of my symptoms, while screwing with other parts of my biochemistry. Not willing to make that trade yet, and honestly not sure it's worth the investment at this time. I also bought a few varieties of lubrication... even if the rubbers are lubricated, Judith's body is no spring chicken and it couldn't hurt. This all, I bought at the far CVS, wearing sunglasses and a pulled down cap with my hair in an unusual ponytail.

The hardest part was "the talk." I always hated talking things out in my past lives... I always felt everyone involved should know where they stand somehow without speaking it, and yet... that has worked terribly for me in the past. So I sat down with a notepad and wrote a few talking points.

When he got home from work, I sat him down and laid it out.

"First, no shame about what happened our first time. The first time sucks, full stop. There'll be more. Practice makes perfect and all that. You're, uh, probably going to want to initiate that more often than I will, and I invite you to do so. I will remind you that I'm free to decline any time at my discretion. As before, we don't owe each other sex."

He looked at me in puzzlement: "I mean, you're free to decline if I initiate, but I don't expect you will." He nodded his head to the side, allowing that.

"We'll have to work on foreplay and stamina... I wanna find out what I like, what gets me going, and I want you to last long enough to give it to me. Do you have any specific comments on my performance?"

"Hmm, only that this whole conversation is really killing my mood," he laughed.

"Fair," I said moving on. "I think we have a pretty good sense of our rights and responsibilities in this relationship. Who does what, and how... I respect you as a lead provider, hopefully you respect me as both a lead home-maker and fellow breadwinner."

"Um, sure."

"That's a way of sayin' I do a lot."

"Right."

"I need you to know I will resist any attempts to assert yourself as a sole 'head of household' type. No authoritarianism. We go forward together or not at all. Right?"

"You think I'm authoritarian?"

"No, not that I'm real worried about that, but it needs saying. We're partners."

"Okay."

"If I piss you off, I wanna hear about it, but in a rational, straight-forward way, and I'll give you the same courtesy."

"Okay."

"We have a lot of disagreements about how things should be done. There's gotta be some give and take."

"What does that mean?" he asked, "You'll finally start rinsing the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher?"

"If that's what I takes to make you happy, maybe," I smiled. "But I don't wanna feel like I'm just rolling over for you. If I make a stand, will ya hear me out?"

"I guess."

"It's a pick-your-battles thing."

"Right, okay."

"And about Dylan... that's always a point of debate, right? But we already know how to negotiate a bit with him."

He sighed, and later told me he felt I didn't give his perspective enough credit where Dylan was concerned.

But in the moment all he said was, "Where's all this coming from?"

"You know, it's been kicking around my head for weeks."

"No, I mean, all this official-sounding talk. Where do you get it from?"

"Hm, well, I have some of the business calls I make to thank for that. Contracts I read. And I've been studying business books."

"I see."

I went on, "Bottom line there... we're raising a kid because we have to, we're dating because we want to."

"Dating isn't the word I'd use..." he said.

"Really...?"

"We're basically married, Judith."

"Ah, but... we're not. Right? Hence this discussion."

"But dating sounds so... light. Casual."

"Okay, we're 'together' because we want to be. Partnered. Coupled."

"Whatever," he sighed.

I dropped it, but to be honest he'll never get me to say we actually are "married."

"Point is, it can end. We can end it in a way married couples can't. God forbid, it doesn't work out, we don't need to get divorced. We just... you know... part ways."

He gritted his teeth. That obviously wasn't something he wanted to think about, and it was probably the "old Tyler" surfacing, hedging my bets. I moved forward quickly.

"Lastly... you love me?"

He squinted. "That's a question?"

"You've said it a few times. Does it bug you that I haven't said it back?"

He pursed his lips and nodded.

I took a deep breath: "I'm falling for you."

He looked away. Not good enough, I realized.

"I'm falling in love with you," I clarified.

He brightened up but just a shade.

"Please, this ain't easy. I'm trying to get through a lotta shit here. My own hangups aren't your fault. You somehow love me despite them. Six months ago I thought we were done. But you've changed, I've changed. And you had a big part in that... helping to make me better. I was a wild dog, even with Meghan. You've helped rein me in and... I'm better for it. I love that."

"That's great," he said flatly. I guess he wasn't feeling my point.

"You make me a great husband," I said, moving toward him. "You're dependable, determined... and yet, you can also be playful. And you're sexy when I see you having fun."

He couldn't suppress a smile. "Jude..."

"You're a sexy man, Kitty. You turn me on."

"Judith..."

"What are you gonna do about it?" I took his hand and guided it over the curve of my chest. "Say my name again, I love hearing it on your lips."

He whispered in my ear, "Judith..."

So help me.

We fell back on the bed and began to make out like a pair of teenagers. I had my hands on the button of his slacks, when we were interrupted by somebody coming home.

"Mom! Dad! Tyler's here, when's dinner?"

Aw, shoot. "To be continued," I sighed.

He smacked his head. "After all that waiting."

Tyler/Judith: Friends

Dylan brought a new friend home for dinner the other night. A boy from school who was assigned to work with him on a project. A skinny 13-year-old with shaggy blonde hair and a batch of zits around his temples.

"Don't be weird or anything," the Kid said as he introduced the young man. "But his name's Tyler."

"Tyler!" I said with an amused smirk, "That's a very nice name.... I knew a boy named Tyler a long time ago. He was trouble. Are you trouble, Tyler?"

"Um, no ma'am," he said overly politely.

"That's good," I said, "Although a little trouble is good every now and again."

"Um, sure..." he said, confused.

"But not too much, you get me?"

"Um, yes ma'am."

"Don't call me-- on second thought, keep calling me ma'am. I'm starting to like it."

"Mo-om!" Dylan groaned in embarrassment. I have to admit it's very strange how comfortable he's finally gotten using that word around me, and how comfortable I've gotten responding to it. He ushered Young Tyler up to her room. I called up to tell them to leave the door open. I could tell they did, because the sound of Xbox was clear through the whole house.

I took some headache medication and started working on dinner until Kitty got home. He came into the kitchen and asked, with his brow a bit furrowed in that way that would almost be cute, "Who's up there with Olivia?"

"Her friend Tyler from school."

"A boy?"

"Uh, yeah. Is there a problem with that?"

"Don't you think that's a little... I mean, aren't you worried?"

"Not really, he seemed perfectly innocent."

"That's--" he huffed, "How old is he?"

"Twelve, thirteen? He's in Dylan's class, so he's, you know... older, but you know how it is with the Kid."

"Now I am worried," he huffed, pacing the room with his hands on his scalp (he recently shaved it nearly clean.)

"Oh give it a rest," I implored, "You're makin' a fuss outta nothin'."

"You're not at all concerned about our kid having a b-- a boyfriend?"

"She has a boy, who is her friend. Big difference."

"At that age..." he grumbled, "You know how boys are."

"With a girl two years younger than him? I highly doubt it. Come on, Kit, don't be gross."

"I'm just being a good parent. I want to know who my little girl is spending time with."

"Come on," I said, "Dylan's smart, and he's not 'your little girl,' he's just our Kid. Older and smarter than he looks, and only ours for a short time. Not really long enough to..."

"To what?"

"I don't know," I said, "I just have more faith in him, or her, than you seem to."

He frowned and things got chilly or a while. I tried to switch the subject by mentioning that they were asking me to take on some new projects at work, put in a few more hours, because one of the girls up and quit and I have seniority. I feel like I can handle it - I came in with a bit of base knowledge and have made it my business to learn the ins and outs of what they do there. And it's a bit exciting to find a bit more purpose while I'm here, but that all seemed to roll over him.

Over dinner, we made pleasant small talk with Young Tyler, found out about his hobbies and what he likes about school, the sorts of things you can ask a 12 1/2-year-old boy. Seeing him sit next to Dylivia, I'll admit, kind of hammered home the physical age difference and made the prospect of them having more of a... romantic relationship (shudder) more creepy for me. It made me see Kitty's point of view, even if she is being characteristically alarmist.

But the way they talked was as peers, and it was the most engaged and active I've seen the Kid with anyone besides Meadow since we got here. And even including her, since Tyler - who seemed like he might not have too many other friends - brought out the Dylan side, the violent video game playing, superhero movie watching sometimes rough-around-the-edges side he may feel the need to suppress to make Kitty, his teachers and his peers happy. It was touching to see that Tyler could maybe almost see the person Dylan is inside.

Tyler's dad came to pick him up and we exchanged contact information. We were getting into bed later when Kitty returned to the subject.

"We need to tell Olivia she's too young to date."

I groaned. "She's not dating. She probably doesn't think anything close to that. She just has a friend, okay?"

"I just want to establish the ground rules. No dating until she's... I don't know."

"Until her body matches her mind," I offered.

"Well-put," he nodded.

"I have the same rule by the way."

"Judith, don't kid me," he said. I officially gave Kitty permission to refer to me as Judith in private just to keep things simple even though I've never let go of my real name and probably never will, just as I probably won't get around to changing him over to "Adrian" even though he gets the masculine pronouns now.

"I'm sorry honey," I said in a teasing pout and wrapping my arms around him. I leaned up and gave him a long, deep kiss, followed by a few shorter ones, and then another where his tongue worked its way past my lips.

He started to run his hand along the length of my thigh and up to my butt. He was making his way to my breasts when I pulled back.

"Not just yet."

"You're killing me, lady," he said, embarrassed.

I kissed him again. "It'll be worth the wait." We made out a bit more before turning off the lights, and then I could tell he made his way to the bathroom to masturbate and get it out of his system.

So, this is my life.

-Ty/Jude

--

P.S. We told Dylan the next day about our little rule, and he got very upset. Not because he wants to date Tyler, I think, but more because it's his life and we're not supposed to tell him how to live it. He's a sharp kid but it's very hard to make even the sharpest kid see an adult's perspective sometimes. But we stood together on it and I'm pretty proud of Kitty and me for that. Holy shit, we might just be actually getting good at parenting together.

Tyler/Judith: Merry Christmas, everyone

The week after our dinner with Samantha was "Adrian's" office Christmas party. I never would have thought of Kitty as an office drone but apparently he's taken to it, working in H.R., filling out forms and helping people adhere to policies. I didn't know that much about it beyond that. I've kind of kept it deliberately separate, and I wasn't much looking forward to mingling with his co-workers, since as I said earlier, I don't exactly love being in situations where I don't get to be myself.

But I had promised I would be the Good Wife that night, even if I was still struggling with how to respond to his declaration of love. He knew I needed time to process everything, although I could tell he was eager for me to come down on one side or the other.

I wanted to put in a good effort for that night, so I went out that day and got my nails and hair done (I can look presentable on my own but it takes more capable hands than mine to turn this frizzy mass into something more than "presentable" - to say nothing of the time and effort.) All that was left was the dress - a long dark red sleevless gown that dipped low in the front. I haven't worn anything that refined since my pageant misadventure as Lauren, and this was a whole different matter. I was a little hesitant to put it on and found myself just sitting at the vanity staring at my face in the mirror... trying to find my inner Judith, I guess.

I looked at the Crow's Feet around her eyes, the laugh lines... the one or two chin hairs I needed to pluck. I wondered what the original owner of this body thought about all that. Did she feel old before her time? Or was it nothing to her? She's only 36 for God's sake. But working and raising a kid will put years on you. I wondered about the little soft roll of flab that I inherited just at the hips, the dimples and freckles that I've noticed on my ass.

She's still got some good years left, I can tell... hopefully she wants them.

And what, exactly, does Adrian see when he looks at it? Either of them.

I eventually did put on the dress and attempted to get comfortable in it... not easy when you're crammed into spanx underneath. I also forgot who and where I was for a minute and dropped a bite or two of lasagna into my cleavage during dinner. Embarrassing. I tell you, they're not even that big but the amount of times these things get in the way...

Kitty was impressed. He jaw actually dropped. "You were already beautiful... I've never seen you look so stunning, though." Even though it's not really my body, I did my best to accept the compliment, and I have to admit it felt good to get that reaction.

I was a bit distracted all night, but I was impressed watching Kitty in action. I forgot that around other people he's very warm and personable, easy to make friends. He knew just about everything about all her co-workers and had a ton of inside jokes with them. He was like a different person around them. Charming - I can see "manhood" agreeing with him. Something about being in this position brings out the best in him, and he was laughing all night, which is rare. We even danced. Together. It just about killed my feet in those heels, but we danced quite a bit.

When we got home, I was feeling good so we cuddled up in bed. "Don't get the wrong idea," I told him. "I just really need someone to hold onto right now."

He laughed slightly, "I feel like that sums up our whole relationship." It made me feel warm to joke around with him that way. I wanted to tell him he was being a good sport about my indecision... and that was helping me come in for a landing on it.

--

We had a lot of talks about how exactly to approach "Christmas," specifically the gift-giving aspect. We don't exactly plan on bringing a lot with us when we leave these bodies. After all, my aim is to become a man again in the long run, so buying clothes for Judith's body, or make-up or jewelry, seemed like a pointless gesture.

"It's not pointless if it makes you happy even for a minute," he said to me. "That's what I really want for Christmas, to make you happy. To see your smile."

"I don't have a smile," I said flatly, aware that my lips were curling even as I said it. "This face only goes in one direction. It's a serious face."

"Not true!" He stepped closer to me - we were in the kitchen at this time. "I've seen you laugh. I've seen you giggle. I've seen you get lost in daydreams, fondly remembering old times..."

"I don't have a lot of fond old times... and I don't giggle."

"Every now and again. It's like.. hehe. I can even tell you get really embarrassed when you do it, too."

"That's not a giggle... it's a titter."

"Don't call it that... that has 'tit' in it and I don't like that word."

I chose to ignore the conversational pivot - was he trying to get me to discuss my anatomy? - and went back to gifts. "I'm not really a gift person anyway. Let's just... I dunno, go on vacation or something."

"I don't think I can get away from work. Besides, we're kind of saving up the vacation days, remember?"

"Pfft, how could I forget... okay, well, you can think of something. Just don't get me a vacuum cleaner or cookware."

"What kind of husband do you think I am? Need I remind you that I've been a wife before!"

"Yeah, you never shut up about it," I smirked - and tittered.

The real problem we were facing was with the Kid. Like Halloween, we wanted to make sure it was a real special year for him. We did splurge a bit on clothes and accessories... I figure if he's privately interested in dressing the part as Olivia, then it might be nice for him to have some clothes that never belonged to the real one.

He first asked for a puppy. I reckon it's something he has asked his parents for year after year and they've always said no. I don't wanna deny the kid anything but we ain't exactly set up for a dog here... in the short term we could take care of it, but are we gonna bring it with us to our next lives? It's too complicated.

His other wish was still a tall order but a bit more do-able. He wanted to see his parents.

You might recall, Dylan's parents, Neil and Susan, wound up as little boys much younger even than Olivia, the children of the O'Rileys, Christine and Martin, who live near Boston. We are in contact with them for regular life updates and asking how Dylan's parents are faring. Turns out they're quiet, well-behaved kids - I guess stuffing an adult lifespan into a 2-and 3-year-old body will do that. There are flashes of clarity to where it's obvious they remember their lives, but either they don't have access to their entire memory or they aren't willing to display it all the time. They're both too young for school and answer to their given names - leading to a few "Boy Named Sue" jokes.

They ask about Dylan often, but don't seem to recognize that the girl in the picture I sent is their boy.

It honestly seems a trifle weirder than what we have to deal with. And we worried that Dylan would be too spooked by seeing what became of his parents. We didn't wanna traumatize him none, but we didn't wanna deny his only other specific Christmas wish.

We had them up for Christmas Eve dinner. We brought Dylan face to face with his parents and... he just wrapped his arms around them. "You guys are okay! It's all gonna be okay! we're gonna get fixed soon, I promise!"

I'm not entirely sure they knew what was going on, but... they seemed happy.

Abbie and Kendra hadn't come alone. They brought with them the original O'Rileys, at least Christine and Martin, who had become a gay couple named Robert and Steven. Handsome guys. My first question was to ask about their kids. It was clearly not a fun story, but it could have been worse: "They became my parents," Martin explained, "An older retired couple. It could have been worse... they get live-in care and we see them every day, and obviously we are all looking forward to putting things right. They understand what's happened to a degree but it took them a long time to come to grips with being bigger and... older."

An uncomfortable, solemn silence followed until Christine noted, "Our oldest never stops asking when he's going to get his 'pee-pee' back." I grinned wryly and said me too.

Kendra explained that the O'Rileys were so invested in getting their lives back that the four had formed a makeshift family - which we were part of by extension. That was very nice to hear. I thought of the rest of my "family" and supposed it included Meg and Carrie and Lauren and Tasha... people I haven't heard from in too long and moss more than the rest of my "real" family.

I admit I observed our guests with interest trying to suss out the relationships, maybe out of curiosity and maybe because I wanted to find some clue for how I wanted to be with Kit. Abbie and Kendra didn't give off more than a platonic partnership that I could see, but by the end of the night Martin and Christine were pretty openly fawning over each other. Martin seemed to acknowledge my interest, saying "I never thought I would go this way, but what can I say? Love is love, and I love this person."

It was honestly very sweet and encouraged me to keep my mind open.

--

We got Dylan some video games, some Olivia-clothes and a whole bunch of junk food. I got Kitty a tablet, reasoning it was something he could bring from life to life, and some aftershave. He got me some make-up and a Spa Day, pointing out that it was all stuff I could use up before we go back to Maine... but also some clothes and matching set of earrings and necklace, "because I wanted to give them." Outwardly I was thankful, inside I was annoyed he had broken our unofficial pact. I wanted to be touched by the gesture and appreciative though.

Christmas day provided more in-character stress. We did had to see Judith's family again, which meant cooking while Judith's sister Kathy batches about her husband's lack of upward mobility at work. Dylan, who was my little helper at Thanksgiving, was off playing with his cousins. Judith's other sister Arlene showed up a few hours late with her new boyfriend - acquired since Thanksgiving - and I'm pretty sure at one point they went off to have sex in the master bedroom, on top of everyone's coats. Well at least someone got laid in that bed.

Kitty was circulating, supporting me for most of the day, but he disappeared after dinner for a while. When everyone had left I found him moping in the spare bedroom I chewed him out for abandoning me with the Medeiroses and reminded him the next day we were sue to see the WAlkers and he'd better behave.

He said he was sorry, he was just overwhelmed... he realized we were all starting to feel like a real family and it made him homesick, and made him sad about having to uproot again in spring. I said I understood, and he said how could I, I'm a born wanderer. I said that wasn't fair, and we got to fighting about.. well, everything. Our plans for the future, mostly, but also recent treatment of each other and fighting about fighting.

We ended up going to bed separately, which sucked for the following reason... I had one more gift to give Kitty.

I had bought myself some lingerie that week. All day I had been wearing a lace thong and corset under my clothes, waiting for us to be alone so I could show off and, well... seduce him. Basically embrace my feelings or at least take a chance on them.

But shit, that blow up really set us back, left me feeling unenthusiastic about it, like a fool wearing expensive, uncomfortable underwear.

We were cold to each other the next day at the Walkers family Christmas, but we both came around and said we were sorry by the end. Inch by inch I'm learning how to make this work and not just run away.

The lingerie would have to wait though.

More in the new year
-Ty/Jude

Tyler/Judith: Lots to think about

I don't know if I've ever felt as uncomfortable during my time since first visiting the Inn as I did this past Saturday night, when we hosted Samantha and her little girl Meadow for dinner. Even when I was Lauren - beauty pageants, prom, awkward advances from older guys - don't quite compare.

On the one side, there's the kids, sitting and laughing and enjoying the meal - and getting up as quickly as possible to watch a movie on Netflix afterward. Something about Meadow brings out the girlier side of Dylan, the "Olivia" persona... he seems a bit more sweet, if mischievous as ever. The only really Dylan-like thing was when Meadow mentioned problems she was having with a boy at school who was bugging her. Dylan's advice was to "kick him in the dick," which caused Kitty face to glow bright red with embarrassment as he scolded her: "Such language!" I had to stifle a laugh, because it broke the tension in the room. And I was relieved to see Samantha also found it funny, rather than a marker of how "unruly" our kid is. (Meadow, for her part, was somewhat scandalized since she only has the vaguest idea of what that means but knows it's taboo.)

Kitty was in rare form all through the day, re-cleaning areas I'd already been through and bossing me around to make sure the place was presentable for her new BFF. I resented that - I may not be naturally domestic but I like to think I keep a pretty clean house (and I've been working at a party-planning agency for nearly 6 months!) Let me cook, and you can play the good host.

I just hate being in character around people with Kitty. I hate having to look at him like he's my adoring husband, and respond to his condescending "Juidth..."'s. I can be with people who don't know I'm me, but somehow it feels like such a lie when we're doing this together.

It doesn't help the fact that I have come to dislike Samantha for no discernible reason. Something about the way she has become a presence in Kitty's life feels like an intrusion. She's not a bad person and God help me we get along pretty well when I can put my irrational feelings aside. But it feels like her mere existence is a total disruption to our little setup.

Watching the two of them for an evening... the way they hang on each other's every word, snicker at their little jokes, and even get shockingly close, I felt my suspicions about Kitty's interest in Samantha confirmed.

After dinner, and a few games, Sam and Meadow went home. Dylan crashed hard, as he tends to do. We started to clean up, and I took a deep breath and started a speech I had tried to write in my head...

"You know..." I said, "If you want to, you can."

He stood up and looked at me in puzzlement. "If I want to what?"

"If you want to... with Samantha. Anything. Whatever you want. I'm... I'm cool with it. It makes sense."

He furrowed his brow. "We're just friends."

"Come on, Kit," I said, "I can see it's more than that. And I'd be a real asshole to stand in your way. She's fun, she's beautiful, she's young. We'll... I don't know, we'll say that you and I are splitting up. Separating. Amicably. You have my blessing."

"Jude-- Tyler, this is crazy talk," he said. "I don't have feelings for Samantha."

"Come on!" I huffed. "There's no point in--"

"I don't." he interrupted firmly. I could see he was getting hot behind the ears, and it was different from the usual irritation he expresses when we differ on what to have for dinner or decorate the living room. "Samantha is a wonderful woman, and I hope she finds happiness, but... she's not the one I want to be with."

I stood across the room, arms folded under my breasts. Suddenly I felt like the floor was going to drop out as soon as he continued saying what he was saying.

"I'm in love with you, Tyler."

"Kitty..." I started to say, but I honestly had no idea how to respond.

He went on. "I know, you don't think of me. I'm a no-fun old lady in a pudgy man's body."

"Not that" pudgy," I tried to re-assure, I guess a bit inappropriately.

"I know you thought that changing this way would be the end of us, and I wondered myself, but my feelings have only grown. I love seeing you parenting Dylan. I love coming home to you at night, going to bed with you. I know you're not really my spouse, but you're my partner. I love your cooking, I love the way you hum to yourself... I love your sense of humor even though I don't get half of it. I started to love you back in Wisconsin and I can't deny it. I'm sorry if that's inconvenient for you."

I felt a heavy weight in my chest.

I went over and wrapped my arms around him. I was shaking. Confused, exhausted, hot tears streaked my cheeks and I didn't know why.

"Can you just give me some time?" I asked. "Maybe we can do this for real... maybe. I just still don't feel ready."

"How long do you need?" he asked.

"I don't know. Honestly, I was hoping just not to think about this stuff again until our next lives. I'm just not ready right now. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said warmly. "We can wait."

The situation between me and Kitty is still so complicated, and I've got my own issues to work through, so who knows what the future holds. I have a lot of reservations toward pursuing any kind of relationship with anyone, let alone her. But I'd be lying if I said it wasn't moving to hear all that. It's flattering, heartening, wonderful just to be told that someone feels that way about you, even if you're honestly not sure, at the end of the day, if you feel the same way. If it's fair to pretend like you do. Or if maybe you just care enough about them to go along with it because it's kinder.

I dunno.

Tyler/Judith: Samantha

In three years or so of being a Person Who Is Transformed, probably the worst thing to come out of this curse is having to be a parent. Don't get me wrong, I love Dylan and I want only the best for him, but I struggle with that. It's draining enough looking after your own needs, sometimes it's hard to remember to put the kid first. And doubly so around the holidays. We're only a week into December and I'm already just completely dead, knocking myself out to try to make sure that this kid's Christmas is one of the best of his life, to help make up for everything that's happened to him this year. Trooper that he is, I still see him getting a bit down when he realizes how small/weak/feminine he is now. And how homesick.

The femininity thing is weird, because you'd think that's something within his control, but he'll catch himself imitating female speech patterns or gestures and then looking at himself in half-disgust, a mystified "What have I become?" It's my role as a parent to try to reassure him that no matter how he behaves he's still himself inside and nobody can take that truth from him. But I ain't a psychologist so I don't always have the language to put that sensitively. Me sitting down with the kid and laying it out straight for him is as likely to have a calming effect as it is to compound the "oh shit" factor of our lives.

What helps is having friends. That's where Samantha and Meadow come in.

Meadow is a little girl who is in Dylan's group for Trailblazer girls. She is the same age as Olivia,, smart and a good reader, and even a little funny. When the time came to put Dylan into school, we all thought "We can't keep him in Olivia's grade, because he wouldn't get along with kids that age." It would make him feel like such a baby. But I guess it's also good for his self-esteem to feel older, like he's ahead rather than behind, his peers. Among 10-year-olds he seems to have a worldliness and a confidence that he doesn't quite have at school.

Meadow and Dylan struck up a friendship pretty quickly. Not long after we enrolled him, it was "Meadow and I had a race and I won," "Meadow told me she liked how my hair looked today," "Meadow brought extra snacks to share with me." Awesome. The kid is hardly as happy about anything as he is when he talks about Meadow. And Kitty, who takes the lead on all Trailblazer stuff, took it upon himself to strike up a friendship with Meadow's mom, Samantha.

Samantha is... young. I haven't asked, but she can't be more than 26 or 27. And being that she's the mother of a 10-year-old girl, you can figure her story out for yourself, I'm sure. She didn't go to college, but she takes night courses and is self-educated in a lot of fields. She's smart, and she can hold a conversation, and she's pretty. With golden brown hair and a sweet smile and bright eyes, and a body that she really takes care of. Honestly, her looks are striking to me, and I don't even go for much of anything nowadays.

So... I can only imagine what Kitty is thinking when he looks at her. She's beautiful, funny, surprisingly "together" under the circumstances... and available.

I don't know. It's not crazy to think there's a spark there between them. Maybe she isn't so evil as to step between a real married couple, but if he were to make a move... could I bring myself to stop him? We haven't functioned much like a couple in the whole time we've been here. We can still co-habitate and parent Dylan even if he's experimenting with outside relationships. For all practical purposes, we're just... two people... right?

But saying that, it feels wrong. The twinge of jealousy I get when her name comes up tells me as much. But I haven't made any moves in the "relationship" direction with Kitty and I have never been sure that that is what I would want. It could just be that the risk of losing the option of that is making me think more seriously about it... making me think I want it more than I do.

Or revealing my true feelings.

I don't know. I'm really not prepared for this.

Oh, and we're having Samantha and Meadow over for dinner on Saturday. Yippee.

-Ty/Jude