Food and Love

Every time I cook something amazing, I still think about R. My ex, Gumball's dad. I think, "bet no one is cooking (insert delicious food here) for you, asshole." Not because anyone should be cooking for him, but because he doesn't cook. I have thought this recently about the world's best salad*, delicious grilled steak tips, and tonight: BLTs with mom's tomatoes and fried eggs. I cook 5 nights of the week. Or maybe 4? And at least half of those meals are delicious. I love whole grains, greens, and some protein. Kind of traditional. I try to eat pasta only once a week though, bc I never get full when I eat it, so I end up eating way too much of it.

So yeah. Tonight's dinner. So delicious.

Not only is this guy missing seeing my sweet little grub turn into a full fledged human, with a sparkling, wonderful personality, he is also missing out on some incredible food. I am looking forward to the day when Gumball can eat with me.

Gumball has been changing so quickly these days. She can, more than half the time, point to: pictures of babies, cats, dogs, cows and ducks. She can identify my and her: nose, mouth, ears and eyes. If I ask for a specific toy, she can go get it (within reason: Baby, Blue Guy, Kitty, Box, Ball, and a few others). If I ask for a book, she will try to get it (Pat the Bunny, Baby Faces, any of the Slinky Malinki series...). She only says 2 words clearly: mama, and duck. But she always says "day-day" for baby, there are a couple other "words" she knows. She's not walking yet, but she pulls up on everything, and crawls like a maniac. If I ask what a fish says, she makes fish faces, and she moos when I ask what a cow says.

He is missing all this: food, and baby. And me, of course. What a dumbass.



*Kale Salad (this is not my recipe. A friend's mom sent it to me.)

1 bunch kale

3 (or more or less, according to taste)  garlic cloves, finely chopped

1/2 cup finely grated pecorino or romano cheese, more for garnish

¼  cup olive oil

Freshly squeezed juice of 1 lemon (or ¼ cup jar lemon juice)

1  teaspoon kosher salt

1/8 teaspoon red pepper flakes

Freshly ground black pepper, to taste.

1.    Trim bottom 2 inches off kale stems and discard. Slice kale, including ribs, into 3/4-inch-wide ribbons. You should have 4 to 5 cups. Place kale in a large bowl.

2.    Chop the garlic until it is finely chopped in the food processor or a blender.  Then mix in the lemon juice and oil and whirl it really fast until it makes a sort of thick dressing.   Mix the pepper flakes, salt and black pepper into the dressing when it is done.  Then take that dressing and mix it into the kale by hand.  Last, add the cheese and mix that in by hand.  Dressing will be thick and need lots of tossing to coat leaves).  .

Yield:  4 servings. Or 1, if you invite me over.

TIP:  After you have made it a few times you can vary the amount of garlic or cheese to your taste.

Good and Bad

Today was Gumball's first birthday party. Not her actual first birthday, but close enough. It was a wonderful event. I invited friends and family, and rented a small pavilion in a local park with a pool. A good friend and her son came up from Massachusetts, and we all enjoyed pizza, sodas and cake- and a beautiful day. I was so happy to be able to share the day with my family and friends, and I was especially touched that Gumball's paternal grandparents and great aunt drove 3 hours to attend. And my aunt also drove almost 2 hours to be here. After so many disappointments, it made me so happy to see so much love being showered upon my little sprout.

My friend O made the cake. And lots of mini cupcakes. She is amazing.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Her name. Its not a big secret, I just don't want it to be google-able.

The baby was nervous at first, but then quickly warmed to her new family. I love them, and it means the world to me that they shared this day with us.

Great Aunt D

Grandma K and Grandpa R

As always, Gumball loved spending time with her Nana. I think she's trying to say "nananananana" even.

Aunt C (my dad's sister) and Nana

Little Miss Barfs-a-Lot WOLFED down an entire mini cupcake, like Ms. PacMan

Baby was also thrilled to see her nanny, T. I am so lucky to have found this remarkable and kind woman who is proud of Gumball's accomplishments and who cares about when she poops and what she eats.

Sweet, little Gumball was happy to spend time with mama too.

Note: "trendy" feathers in my hair. Kate Gosslin-like, or actually cool? I think I'm too old to know.

Opening presents

It was also lovely seeing my friend A, and her son. Gumball loved having a young, mobile playmate.

Super happy to have a friend catching a ride

Totally capable of managing two... ha!

   Then I came home and found out that my Massachusetts house, the one I am trying desperately to sell (and selling at a huge loss) had been broken in to and all the copper pipe removed. When I spoke with the police, they told me that for having caused tens of thousands of dollars of damage, the thieves would only get $50 for the pipes. I hope they choke on it. And, when they broke in, they used the toilet and didn't flush. Nice, right? Sometimes it seems like I am cursed.

Ducks

I never knew how many duck-related items I have. Books about ducks, rubber duckies, songs about ducks... Every day the baby is practicing her new word. Its all "duck, duck, duuuuuuuck, d'uck, duck duck duck." Sometimes she does both of her words, together. "Mam-uk, maaaa-muk, MA-muK." You know. Mama duck. I guess that's me. Mama Duck.

In other Gumball-related news, occasionally when I ask her, "what does a cow say?" She answers "moo moo." And the same when I ask her what a fish says. She opens and closes her lips like a fish gasping for air.

She's been crawling all over, and trying to stand. Unlike other babies I have seen, instead of pulling up, she finds something low, and braces her way up. Weird.

I admit it, I think she's very smart. It scares me how much she seems to comprehend. Her dad, while a complete idiot in many way, is very intelligent in terms of math and logic. He's a very good chess player, for example. And despite the fact that the only degree he's received is a high school diploma- he would regularly beat me in Scrabble. Anyhow, Gumball is smart. It pleases me, and I feel proud, but it also scares me. I want her to be smart, but more than that I want her to be at peace, and to find happiness and fulfillment in her life. As it turns out, intelligence is highly overrated. But peace and happiness are essential, yet highly underrated. I wish her a lifetime of happiness and peace.

Kindness from Unexpected Places

Today a former co-worker and Facebook friend wrote me the following:

I don't know if I already said this to you, but you have a really rare gift of kindness, openness, and giving off an aura of trust. This is a special gift. Try not to lose that. The world needs that gift. I know in time you'll find a way or a place that you can share that gift to wider audience. Your child is benefiting from it. It's something you should always remember and hold on to tightly.

It made me cry. In a good way, at least. It's a good reminder to not let the bitterness take over. 

PS

The damn baby is STILL awake, and playing in her crib. An hour and 15 minutes after she went to bed.

Go to sleep, DAMNIT! Go to sleep!!!!

Glimmers of Hope

Today was a satisfying day. I didn't sleep well last night (big surprise, sleep being my archenemy). But I woke with the baby at 6am, and wasn't dragging too badly. After Gumball's brief morning nap, we went to visit a neighbor. She lives a few houses down from us, and has a son who is a year older than Gumball. We've run into them several times. Last time, she asked the dreaded question- "why did you move here?" And, like usual, I tried to answer and instead choked and teared up. Yup. People try to make small talk with me and ask innocent questions and I cry. I am a hot mess. Anyhow, my neighbor mentioned a positive of being single. No one pestering me for blow jobs. That is certainly true, and was such a funny and weird thing to say, that I immediately wanted to hang out with her. Indeed, that IS one positive thing about being single. Anyhow, I went over to her house today. Her son was at day care, and she was packing for an overnight visit to the inlaws. I followed her around the house as she packed and straightened things out. It was nice. Surprisingly comfortable. I will visit again. And it made me feel human to make a new friend, all on my own.

Then I came home, and made baby food. AND THE BABY SEEMED TO LIKE IT!!! It was just my regular lentils and spinach, but this time I added 1/4 of a block of cream cheese. And blended it. She seemed to enjoy it! It was quite a success for me. The baby was crawling and playing on the floor at my feet while I cooked and blended. I didn't feel full of anxiety about not entertaining her, I was moving fast but not frantically. I microwaved lunch for myself. And she ate, and didn't vomit. It was magical. When she was done eating, I cleaned the kitchen. I know this doesn't sound like much, but I feel such crushing anxiety that I don't usually do much when the Little Rat is awake. When she cries it feels like a punch in the gut (although lately she's had some crocodile tears that don't impact me quite the same way) so I spend most of my time preventing her from crying. And she is such a patient, understanding, loving baby. She plays by herself a lot. I sit in the room with her, but I mostly read a magazine or play scrabble online on my phone. And I talk to her sometimes, of course, but she seems very happy playing with her toys and unpacking every book and "reading" it (flipping through it in about 30 seconds.)

After lunch, and cleaning, we played in her room, and then took a nap together. Its so little but I feel hopeful and satisfied. Simple mind, simple pleasures?

And to ensure a reasonable night's sleep, I took two benedryls. Its a toss up. My doctor said it was safe enough for breastfeeding, especially since I take it 12 hours before I breastfeed, usually (right before Gumball's bedtime). But, the side effect I'm most worried about is the reduction in milk production. This troubles me a lot, but I find that I produce more milk when I sleep, versus staying awake all night, worrying. It is what it is. I'm just trying to get by.

First day of therapy tomorrow. Heh hehe, I pity this poor therapist. She's not prepared for the self-analyzing, know-it-all, 11 years of therapy under her belt train wreck she's seeing tomorrow. Wish me (and her) luck.