I had my first Zumba class last night. I texted a high school friend of mine to tell her that I was going to go to this class, and she replied that she loves "Zhumba." I found the added "h" so annoying I had to put the phone down. Forcefully. So if I am spelling it wrong, please do not tell me. I don't care.
Zumba was HARD! I invited my new friend A to join the class with me. A and I met online- through BabyCenter Community. It's true, I meet strangers off the internet. Rogue moms. A is awesome, and I really enjoy her company. It's so nice to meet someone I enjoy this much. I just _wish_ I could explain how I am single without tearing up. She's kind though, and looked away, then pretended not to have seen anything.
A's daughter is 3 or 4 days older than Gumball. And we're doing baby swim class together. And Zumba. We laughed so much my stomach still hurts. I probably laughed more last night that I had in a year. I am out of practice. And speaking of out of practice... I used to go out dancing every night I could. All night. To merengue and salsa. I loved dancing. In Zumba class, I could barely pant my way through one song. After 20 minutes, I thought I was going to drop dead. By 45 minutes, I was staggering, and covered in sweat. I am so scared about class tomorrow. That said, it felt wonderful to do something just for myself, and to laugh. I hope I don't have to miss too many classes. I am not the fattest or most out of shape person there, but close.
In other news, apparently being married to me is such a wonderful thing that R just can't seem to sign the goddamn divorce papers. My lawyer has sent him the paperwork to be signed 2 times. (Ca-ching, ca-ching.) And called him a dozen times (at $50/per call. Thanks, asshole.) I don't even know what will happen if he won't sign the papers. I just want this to be over. I may just have to send him another text message, and beg him to please just sign the papers. I have no idea why he won't just sign the damn things, and let me go in peace.
Gumball has been amazing. Today she said "baby" instead of "dada" (once) and said "neck" while pointing to her neck, and also said "monk" totally unprompted when there was a picture of a monkey in our book. She's so much fun these days. I just love her so much. Maybe that's obvious, or verboten, but damn, this little person makes every second of suffering seem like nothing. She is amazing and sweet and sensitive.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
What She Ate
I can't remember a lot of things: hard and fast rules of capitalization, birthdays, epidemiology, what I was going to say next... but I do remember what I ate. I have a semi-photographic memory for what I ate. I remember the night after my first wedding/engagement party, we went to an Italian restaurant, and I had this steak with paté, cheese and tomato sauce on it. At the wedding/engagement party, I ate meatballs. This was in 2000. I remember what I ate when I turned 20. Olive Garden, cannolini. I guess I remember meals associated with special events. When I turned 35, R and I went out to dinner with some of my closest friends, D and L. We went to my favorite fancy restaurant: L'espalier. We did a tasting meal, and I didn't like anything. The foam tasted like beer. I was pregnant, and I didn't know it. Food was gross for a good 6 months.
Last night, I had a very sad dream about R. I dreamed I went to see him, and he ignored me. He and his_ whatever she is_ ignored me, and laughed at it. I was so sad when I woke up. I miss him. We could have been so happy together.
At breakfast, I had a piece and a half of cheese toast: gruyere on multigrain. Gumball had 1/2 a piece. Then mom came over. Gumball was delighted. We went to a local harvest festival. Lots of lawn sales and people with dogs. I've never seen so many dogs at an outing. Gumball is in love with dogs these days. Whenever she sees one, she goes "OG!!! Uff uff uff." She said that about 100 times today. Except when she was demanding I give her a felt ball. Then she said "DAAAAAAAAH!!!!" I bought the ball immediately, and nana was able to hide it before Gumball dropped it, or gave it to an Og. And I bought her something else, something totally awesome. I am so excited! I got her this: OMG OMG THIS THIS!!!!! It was $35. It's not identical to this- it has plastic mane, and no motion activated sounds. Thank goodness. I am overjoyed. I wish I could ride it. I ate a piece of spanikopita. It was so-so.
Then we came home, and we napped. And when we woke, we went to E & P's house. Their son, L, is just a month older than Gumball. Our other friends were there already. I brought hamburger, cheese, bread and cupcakes. We had a lovely dinner. I am so lucky to know these people. Everyday, when I am not alone, when Gumball and I laugh and talk and spend time with friends and my mom, I am so grateful. I am anxious about winter coming, scared that this winter will be a repeat of last. I know that is improbable. I am not going to be alone, every day, depressed, terrified, exhausted, insane. I am not going to lose 40 lbs in 2 months, and cry daily. I wish I could lose the 40 lbs though. I am not going to cry daily. Just when I watch any TV that has anything to do with babies. I have friends with babies here, and my mom, and I am going to be happy again. Today was a wonderful start.
Last night, I had a very sad dream about R. I dreamed I went to see him, and he ignored me. He and his_ whatever she is_ ignored me, and laughed at it. I was so sad when I woke up. I miss him. We could have been so happy together.
At breakfast, I had a piece and a half of cheese toast: gruyere on multigrain. Gumball had 1/2 a piece. Then mom came over. Gumball was delighted. We went to a local harvest festival. Lots of lawn sales and people with dogs. I've never seen so many dogs at an outing. Gumball is in love with dogs these days. Whenever she sees one, she goes "OG!!! Uff uff uff." She said that about 100 times today. Except when she was demanding I give her a felt ball. Then she said "DAAAAAAAAH!!!!" I bought the ball immediately, and nana was able to hide it before Gumball dropped it, or gave it to an Og. And I bought her something else, something totally awesome. I am so excited! I got her this: OMG OMG THIS THIS!!!!! It was $35. It's not identical to this- it has plastic mane, and no motion activated sounds. Thank goodness. I am overjoyed. I wish I could ride it. I ate a piece of spanikopita. It was so-so.
Then we came home, and we napped. And when we woke, we went to E & P's house. Their son, L, is just a month older than Gumball. Our other friends were there already. I brought hamburger, cheese, bread and cupcakes. We had a lovely dinner. I am so lucky to know these people. Everyday, when I am not alone, when Gumball and I laugh and talk and spend time with friends and my mom, I am so grateful. I am anxious about winter coming, scared that this winter will be a repeat of last. I know that is improbable. I am not going to be alone, every day, depressed, terrified, exhausted, insane. I am not going to lose 40 lbs in 2 months, and cry daily. I wish I could lose the 40 lbs though. I am not going to cry daily. Just when I watch any TV that has anything to do with babies. I have friends with babies here, and my mom, and I am going to be happy again. Today was a wonderful start.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Today
Today I am feeling pessimistic. I had fun guests. My plumber from Massachusetts who fixed my entire house- not just plumbing, pretty much out of the kindness of his big heart. And his wife. I invited them to come and visit. It was nice to have guests, nice to have people to watch TV with, nice to have a big family dinner. And nice, sort of, to have the house to myself again.
I'm tired. It's been about a week since I've had a normal night's sleep. 6 hours, interrupted, a night, is not enough for me now. It makes me feel pessimistic. Old and tired. Baby is teething, and she is very excited about standing, and bouncing in her crib. I love watching on the monitor, but live in fear that she will toss Kitty, and I'll have to run up and rescue him. I don't think she can sleep without him. She's getting very willful. And attached to things. Like her ball (actually any ball, and sometimes balls. Or DAAAAAAAHHHHH! As she likes to say.) And her baby dolls. "Dada" and little "Dada."
I contacted a couple of old flings. Guys I had some casual dates with. Did I mention that before? It was for the ego boost. One lives in CT, the other in MA. It was a good ego boost, more or less. They remembered me, were glad I wrote, offered- vaguely- to come visit me. I remembered why I liked R more than I liked either of them.
Gumball's nanny is having an elective surgery on October 4th. Which means she'll possibly be out of work for 2 weeks. And I will have to miss 4 of my 12 Zumba classes. I'm so tired, and lonely, and this really bums me out. I fully admit that I am entirely selfish. That's also a lot of days with no help. My mom will come over for an hour or 2, but that's not much when I feel tired.
And winter is coming. I hate winter. I hate cold. I really feel like I am starting to get more depressed, and want to be on meds again, but am so reluctant to stop breastfeeding Baby. She may very well be my only child, and I'm not ready to stop nursing her. And when I'm exhausted, I can curl up in bed with her and she will happily nurse for 30 minutes- and I get a little rest. It's not much, but it provides a real relief some days. And I love the bond we have, through breastfeeding. I've been so lucky to have been able to do it. I just wish I was on meds too. And yes, I know some psych meds are compatible with breastfeeding. I am not comfortable with the long term consequences of breastfeeding while taking psych meds. Also, my preferred med is not safe while breastfeeding.
Maybe I'll get a sun replacement lamp or something.
I'm tired. It's been about a week since I've had a normal night's sleep. 6 hours, interrupted, a night, is not enough for me now. It makes me feel pessimistic. Old and tired. Baby is teething, and she is very excited about standing, and bouncing in her crib. I love watching on the monitor, but live in fear that she will toss Kitty, and I'll have to run up and rescue him. I don't think she can sleep without him. She's getting very willful. And attached to things. Like her ball (actually any ball, and sometimes balls. Or DAAAAAAAHHHHH! As she likes to say.) And her baby dolls. "Dada" and little "Dada."
I contacted a couple of old flings. Guys I had some casual dates with. Did I mention that before? It was for the ego boost. One lives in CT, the other in MA. It was a good ego boost, more or less. They remembered me, were glad I wrote, offered- vaguely- to come visit me. I remembered why I liked R more than I liked either of them.
Gumball's nanny is having an elective surgery on October 4th. Which means she'll possibly be out of work for 2 weeks. And I will have to miss 4 of my 12 Zumba classes. I'm so tired, and lonely, and this really bums me out. I fully admit that I am entirely selfish. That's also a lot of days with no help. My mom will come over for an hour or 2, but that's not much when I feel tired.
And winter is coming. I hate winter. I hate cold. I really feel like I am starting to get more depressed, and want to be on meds again, but am so reluctant to stop breastfeeding Baby. She may very well be my only child, and I'm not ready to stop nursing her. And when I'm exhausted, I can curl up in bed with her and she will happily nurse for 30 minutes- and I get a little rest. It's not much, but it provides a real relief some days. And I love the bond we have, through breastfeeding. I've been so lucky to have been able to do it. I just wish I was on meds too. And yes, I know some psych meds are compatible with breastfeeding. I am not comfortable with the long term consequences of breastfeeding while taking psych meds. Also, my preferred med is not safe while breastfeeding.
Maybe I'll get a sun replacement lamp or something.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Gumball's Words
Gumball is getting quite chatty these days. She says the following:
Knee- "kneeeeeeeee"
Dog- "Og"
Kitty- "Eee-eee"
Ball- "Daaaaaaaah!" (always extremely loud and excited)
Baby- "Dayday"
Duck- "duck"
Snack- "mum mum" (she thinks any puff or cracker or cookie is a mum mum.)
She also knows what sounds the following animals make:
Dog- "uh uh" (with lips pursed)
Cat- "maow maow" (sometimes this turns into "mommy mommy" which is funny bc I think that's what Pumpkin- our cat- is saying too.)
Cow- "moo moo"
Sheep "ma ma"
Fish- "___" (opens and closes her mouth)
I know. She's a genius. She finally started self feeding too! At 13 months. Prior to this event, she would put mum mums, McDonald's french fries, and baby cheese puffs into her mouth. Now she will also insert strawberries (cut up into 800 pieces), cheese, turkey, lamb, steak, sweet potato, toast, waffle... and probably other things too. Baby likes meat, which seems sort of funny, in someone who only has 6 teeth.
And her teeth. She has top and bottom incisors. And then the next tooth, on the left side, top and bottom. It looks funny, but don't tell her that.
She is loving music and has started "dancing" a little. Dancing involves moving her butt up and down, as far as I can tell.
She's also started waking between 4:30 and 5am, which is super annoying. I change and nurse her, and she goes back to sleep with little fussing. I wish she would cut it out though.
Knee- "kneeeeeeeee"
Dog- "Og"
Kitty- "Eee-eee"
Ball- "Daaaaaaaah!" (always extremely loud and excited)
Baby- "Dayday"
Duck- "duck"
Snack- "mum mum" (she thinks any puff or cracker or cookie is a mum mum.)
She also knows what sounds the following animals make:
Dog- "uh uh" (with lips pursed)
Cat- "maow maow" (sometimes this turns into "mommy mommy" which is funny bc I think that's what Pumpkin- our cat- is saying too.)
Cow- "moo moo"
Sheep "ma ma"
Fish- "___" (opens and closes her mouth)
I know. She's a genius. She finally started self feeding too! At 13 months. Prior to this event, she would put mum mums, McDonald's french fries, and baby cheese puffs into her mouth. Now she will also insert strawberries (cut up into 800 pieces), cheese, turkey, lamb, steak, sweet potato, toast, waffle... and probably other things too. Baby likes meat, which seems sort of funny, in someone who only has 6 teeth.
And her teeth. She has top and bottom incisors. And then the next tooth, on the left side, top and bottom. It looks funny, but don't tell her that.
She is loving music and has started "dancing" a little. Dancing involves moving her butt up and down, as far as I can tell.
She's also started waking between 4:30 and 5am, which is super annoying. I change and nurse her, and she goes back to sleep with little fussing. I wish she would cut it out though.
Friday, September 16, 2011
He said, I Said, He Said
Hey.
Remember how I said I wasn't going to write another word about Gumball's dad? Yeah. Well, I presumed that the mean (true) and nasty (entirely true) text message I sent him would shut him up. I was wrong. It apparently made him feel loved or some such bullshit, bc he's been sending me text messages.
He said this:
You were a beautiful, wonderful wife, and my best friend. I have no doubt that you are now a great mom. I hope you and Gumball are doing well. My life has been filled with tough decisions and poor choices. I hope that you guys don't hate me forever.
His misery is palatable, no? The message made me sad. Really, really sad. I cried. But didn't respond. Then, last night he wrote again. How are you? And it made me so furious. He doesn't get to come back into my life. How am I? Well shit, where should I start? Alone, depressed, tired, determined, fighting to maintain a sense of normal every day. Bored, lost, and lonely? Yeah. Fuck you. So I wrote the following:
I don't know what you want from me or what sort of response you're expecting. I loved you. I was proud to be your wife and I fully expected to spend my life with you. You left. I cried every day. My hair fell out. If you can even comprehend another person's suffering; believe me. I suffered. I wanted to die. Every single day. I loved you and gave you everything: my heart, soul, body, home, life. I wasn't perfect. I begged you to go to therapy. But you left. You took away my stepsons and my daughter's father. You got that whore pregnant. Don't write me again unless it has to do with Gumball. I'm not your friend. I don't love you anymore. I hope you seek professional help- clearly you need it. I don't mean that in a snotty way. I think you might be able to find peace that way. I sincerely hope you do. Any pain you're feeling now is a small fragment of what I felt, and you deserve it. Stop running from real life and from problems. Work on the relationship you're in. Be a dad to the kids you're with. Just please, please leave me alone. I'm not like you guys. I feel pain and I'm fragile and maybe crazy as you so often liked to say. I bitterly miss the person I thought you were. That guy was my soul mate. You are not him and will never be. The only way I will ever relate to you again is as Gumball's dad. And the second you fuck that up, I'm done with you all together. You picked this. You picked it.
I probably should have edited it down, but it felt good to say that. And even though I do still love the asshole, in some weird and stupid way, I know that he can bring nothing good to my life, or to my daughter's life. I recognize that she deserves a lot better, and hope to someday internalize that I too deserve better.
And then he responded. He probably shouldn't have. His response is so full of self-pity and weakness that it made me sick. I'm not scared of weakness or repulsed by it. I can be weak. But wallowing in it, and indulging in this blatant "woe is me" crap just doesn't cut it with me these days. I haven't indulged myself in such a long time, that his text made me queasy. Have some ownership, and agency, for fuck's sake.
Who exactly did you think I was? As far as I know I haven't changed since I was 5 years old. When you met me I was a poor, uneducated truck driver with too many kids. You loved me anyway. The way I left our relationship was wrong, but not completely unprovoked. I do love you. I've missed you every day. I sincerely hope that one day we can at least be on speaking terms again. Per your request I won't message you again unless you tell me too. I'm still unsure of how you expect me to be a part of Gumball's life when you guys live in northern Vt. I am open to suggestions.
Idiot.
Remember how I said I wasn't going to write another word about Gumball's dad? Yeah. Well, I presumed that the mean (true) and nasty (entirely true) text message I sent him would shut him up. I was wrong. It apparently made him feel loved or some such bullshit, bc he's been sending me text messages.
He said this:
You were a beautiful, wonderful wife, and my best friend. I have no doubt that you are now a great mom. I hope you and Gumball are doing well. My life has been filled with tough decisions and poor choices. I hope that you guys don't hate me forever.
His misery is palatable, no? The message made me sad. Really, really sad. I cried. But didn't respond. Then, last night he wrote again. How are you? And it made me so furious. He doesn't get to come back into my life. How am I? Well shit, where should I start? Alone, depressed, tired, determined, fighting to maintain a sense of normal every day. Bored, lost, and lonely? Yeah. Fuck you. So I wrote the following:
I don't know what you want from me or what sort of response you're expecting. I loved you. I was proud to be your wife and I fully expected to spend my life with you. You left. I cried every day. My hair fell out. If you can even comprehend another person's suffering; believe me. I suffered. I wanted to die. Every single day. I loved you and gave you everything: my heart, soul, body, home, life. I wasn't perfect. I begged you to go to therapy. But you left. You took away my stepsons and my daughter's father. You got that whore pregnant. Don't write me again unless it has to do with Gumball. I'm not your friend. I don't love you anymore. I hope you seek professional help- clearly you need it. I don't mean that in a snotty way. I think you might be able to find peace that way. I sincerely hope you do. Any pain you're feeling now is a small fragment of what I felt, and you deserve it. Stop running from real life and from problems. Work on the relationship you're in. Be a dad to the kids you're with. Just please, please leave me alone. I'm not like you guys. I feel pain and I'm fragile and maybe crazy as you so often liked to say. I bitterly miss the person I thought you were. That guy was my soul mate. You are not him and will never be. The only way I will ever relate to you again is as Gumball's dad. And the second you fuck that up, I'm done with you all together. You picked this. You picked it.
I probably should have edited it down, but it felt good to say that. And even though I do still love the asshole, in some weird and stupid way, I know that he can bring nothing good to my life, or to my daughter's life. I recognize that she deserves a lot better, and hope to someday internalize that I too deserve better.
And then he responded. He probably shouldn't have. His response is so full of self-pity and weakness that it made me sick. I'm not scared of weakness or repulsed by it. I can be weak. But wallowing in it, and indulging in this blatant "woe is me" crap just doesn't cut it with me these days. I haven't indulged myself in such a long time, that his text made me queasy. Have some ownership, and agency, for fuck's sake.
Who exactly did you think I was? As far as I know I haven't changed since I was 5 years old. When you met me I was a poor, uneducated truck driver with too many kids. You loved me anyway. The way I left our relationship was wrong, but not completely unprovoked. I do love you. I've missed you every day. I sincerely hope that one day we can at least be on speaking terms again. Per your request I won't message you again unless you tell me too. I'm still unsure of how you expect me to be a part of Gumball's life when you guys live in northern Vt. I am open to suggestions.
Idiot.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
All the (not so) Juicy Details
Reflecting on my two marriages and romantic life in general has caused me to wonder: am I ever going to have sex again?
If reading about my (boring) thoughts and concerns about sex is officially TMI, please skip this entry. Truthfully, I'm not going to share anything particularly lurid. I'm shy. Then again, after years of working providing STD counseling and partner services, my idea of "particularly lurid" might not be the same as yours. Probably not. That said' I'm going to be brief and chaste. Someday Gumball will be able to read, and the last thing I want her to be subjected to is the idea of her Mama having a sex life. (Believe me, Gumball, Mama never had sex.)
I miss having a loving, warm, physical relationship. I was so sick, and then so huge and heavy and gross that I really didn't feel that sexual while pregnant. Consequently, I think it has been approximately one year and nine months. And this dry spell has absolutely no end in sight. I'm someone's MOM now. How could I possibly date? I can't even imagine the logistics of it. Not to mention that this situation has left me feeling old and bitter. Old, bitter, and with not much to bring to a relationship. I know now isn't the time. A friend's therapist told her to expect to mourn for one month for each year she was together with her soon-to-be ex-husband. I've been mourning for a year and still am not done yet. Definitely not ready to start thinking about a new relationship yet. Which brings me back to the question- when will I have sex again? Probably not for a very long time. In fact, by the time I have sex again, it will have probably changed in such fundamental ways that I will no longer know what I'm doing. Geez.
I really miss it though.
If reading about my (boring) thoughts and concerns about sex is officially TMI, please skip this entry. Truthfully, I'm not going to share anything particularly lurid. I'm shy. Then again, after years of working providing STD counseling and partner services, my idea of "particularly lurid" might not be the same as yours. Probably not. That said' I'm going to be brief and chaste. Someday Gumball will be able to read, and the last thing I want her to be subjected to is the idea of her Mama having a sex life. (Believe me, Gumball, Mama never had sex.)
I miss having a loving, warm, physical relationship. I was so sick, and then so huge and heavy and gross that I really didn't feel that sexual while pregnant. Consequently, I think it has been approximately one year and nine months. And this dry spell has absolutely no end in sight. I'm someone's MOM now. How could I possibly date? I can't even imagine the logistics of it. Not to mention that this situation has left me feeling old and bitter. Old, bitter, and with not much to bring to a relationship. I know now isn't the time. A friend's therapist told her to expect to mourn for one month for each year she was together with her soon-to-be ex-husband. I've been mourning for a year and still am not done yet. Definitely not ready to start thinking about a new relationship yet. Which brings me back to the question- when will I have sex again? Probably not for a very long time. In fact, by the time I have sex again, it will have probably changed in such fundamental ways that I will no longer know what I'm doing. Geez.
I really miss it though.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Triumphant Return!
I just signed up for 12 Zumba classes.
Is this my triumphant return? Or is it like the feathers I just got put into my hair? Passé and outmoded? Am I a Kate Gosselin wannabe?
Anyhow, I am hoping these 12 classes magically transform me into... less fat.
Is this my triumphant return? Or is it like the feathers I just got put into my hair? Passé and outmoded? Am I a Kate Gosselin wannabe?
Anyhow, I am hoping these 12 classes magically transform me into... less fat.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Ancient History
Today I was thinking about my past relationships. I'm 36, and pretty inexperienced. Especially considering that I've been married, and divorced, twice. I was a late bloomer. Painfully shy, hidden under a thin layer of extroversion. I still am that way, sort of. Someone once called me an extroverted introvert. True? Who knows.
In high school I didn't date anyone. I had crushes, and two very nice, kind, funny, handsome kids had crushes on me. I was too scared and shy to like them back. Too awkward. It was awful and excruciating to me that anyone could possibly like me.
College was a little different. I dated two people. More like two and a half, actually, but I'll only count two. I loved both, in a super young, immature sort of way. Only told one of them that I loved them, but managed, through the years, to stay in some sort of touch with both. Both are married now and seem, from their presence on Facebook, to be happy. Who doesn't seem happy on Facebook? Me. I don't. Anyhow, I just want to say that whenever I see photos of the second person I dated, I become completely self-congratulatory because while she was beautiful in college, she is absolutely stunning now. Radiant. And has been a great source of parenting info, when asked. The other person, a lovely and sweet guy, totally had my heart. I pined after him for years, but never said a word.
After college, I joined Peace Corps. Went to Bolivia. As I arrived with a decent level of fluency in Spanish, I started going out and dating immediately. Volunteers, locals, whoever. It was incredibly fun. I went out dancing every other night, made great friends, and met my first husband. I probably wasn't ready to get married, but I couldn't imagine life without him.
He is a lovely, warm person. After 8 or so years of being together, we just weren't good as a couple anymore. I love him too much, as a friend, to explain why here. Our friendship is still one of my most important relationships. I will say that with him, I grew up. Our relationship turned me into an adult. I learned that even though I tried as hard as I could, I couldn't fix or control everything. I learned that two people who love each other can't necessarily make a marriage work. I was bitterly disappointed when we split up, and it took me almost two years before I could begin dating again.
And I dated, and dated, and then met R. And the rest is history.
I wish I knew where I went wrong.
In high school I didn't date anyone. I had crushes, and two very nice, kind, funny, handsome kids had crushes on me. I was too scared and shy to like them back. Too awkward. It was awful and excruciating to me that anyone could possibly like me.
College was a little different. I dated two people. More like two and a half, actually, but I'll only count two. I loved both, in a super young, immature sort of way. Only told one of them that I loved them, but managed, through the years, to stay in some sort of touch with both. Both are married now and seem, from their presence on Facebook, to be happy. Who doesn't seem happy on Facebook? Me. I don't. Anyhow, I just want to say that whenever I see photos of the second person I dated, I become completely self-congratulatory because while she was beautiful in college, she is absolutely stunning now. Radiant. And has been a great source of parenting info, when asked. The other person, a lovely and sweet guy, totally had my heart. I pined after him for years, but never said a word.
After college, I joined Peace Corps. Went to Bolivia. As I arrived with a decent level of fluency in Spanish, I started going out and dating immediately. Volunteers, locals, whoever. It was incredibly fun. I went out dancing every other night, made great friends, and met my first husband. I probably wasn't ready to get married, but I couldn't imagine life without him.
He is a lovely, warm person. After 8 or so years of being together, we just weren't good as a couple anymore. I love him too much, as a friend, to explain why here. Our friendship is still one of my most important relationships. I will say that with him, I grew up. Our relationship turned me into an adult. I learned that even though I tried as hard as I could, I couldn't fix or control everything. I learned that two people who love each other can't necessarily make a marriage work. I was bitterly disappointed when we split up, and it took me almost two years before I could begin dating again.
And I dated, and dated, and then met R. And the rest is history.
I wish I knew where I went wrong.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
One Last Thing
I just want to say one last thing. One last thing... bc I have to get in the last word, even if I'm the only one talking. Or writing. Whatever.
And that is because this whole thing, you know, being left without one freaking word- has totally made me doubt my perception of reality. I don't know as much as I used to, and I don't trust myself. But there are a few things I do believe still. I really loved R. I still love him. I hate that. I know this is true because even now I pity him. I feel sad that he will never fulfill his dreams. He will never go to school, never know a job beyond being a truck driver, which he hates. He will never go to Alaska. He'll never take his kids to Disney World. He'll never be in a chess club, or play in tournaments again. He'll never do, or be, most of the things he wanted. And it hurts me to think of that. I really only ever wanted the best for him. My controlling, over-involved version of "the best," its true. Breaks my heart.
And now, for real, I am done.
And that is because this whole thing, you know, being left without one freaking word- has totally made me doubt my perception of reality. I don't know as much as I used to, and I don't trust myself. But there are a few things I do believe still. I really loved R. I still love him. I hate that. I know this is true because even now I pity him. I feel sad that he will never fulfill his dreams. He will never go to school, never know a job beyond being a truck driver, which he hates. He will never go to Alaska. He'll never take his kids to Disney World. He'll never be in a chess club, or play in tournaments again. He'll never do, or be, most of the things he wanted. And it hurts me to think of that. I really only ever wanted the best for him. My controlling, over-involved version of "the best," its true. Breaks my heart.
And now, for real, I am done.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Post Script for my Readers
Readers?
I want to add something.
I've had this blog for a few months, and have yet to tell my real life friends about it. I have linked to some of their blogs, so they may have found me out. I may or may not share this blog. Every single motherfucking day I put on a brave face. The baby doesn't see me cry (*unless the fire alarm in her room breaks and I feel very stressed out), and my friends don't see me cry. I don't cry on people's shoulders. Not like I have that many people to cry on here, now that I've moved. I don't want them to know how sad and pathetic I am. I am trying to move on. I love my friends, and they have kept me going during this. Only one or two of them know how low I have gotten. I don't want to burden the rest. One of my biggest supporters is fighting stage 2 breast cancer. While working full time, and living alone in a new city. And I cry about R? Absurd. I'm not sure I can share this part of myself with my friends who know me in real life. I don't want them to know and I don't want to burden them. We'll see. Maybe my vanity and desire to self-expose will win out. Who knows? Maybe when I have some sort of triumphant return, I will someday share these sad entries.
Anyhow, I wanted to say thank you to my 5 subscribers, and commenters. Shan, Carmen, and others, I really appreciate your comments. Thanks for stopping by. I don't have much happiness in my life these days, and the small kindness of reading a stranger's words means something to me. I know you two and others are moms, and our time is especially precious.
Thank you.
I want to add something.
I've had this blog for a few months, and have yet to tell my real life friends about it. I have linked to some of their blogs, so they may have found me out. I may or may not share this blog. Every single motherfucking day I put on a brave face. The baby doesn't see me cry (*unless the fire alarm in her room breaks and I feel very stressed out), and my friends don't see me cry. I don't cry on people's shoulders. Not like I have that many people to cry on here, now that I've moved. I don't want them to know how sad and pathetic I am. I am trying to move on. I love my friends, and they have kept me going during this. Only one or two of them know how low I have gotten. I don't want to burden the rest. One of my biggest supporters is fighting stage 2 breast cancer. While working full time, and living alone in a new city. And I cry about R? Absurd. I'm not sure I can share this part of myself with my friends who know me in real life. I don't want them to know and I don't want to burden them. We'll see. Maybe my vanity and desire to self-expose will win out. Who knows? Maybe when I have some sort of triumphant return, I will someday share these sad entries.
Anyhow, I wanted to say thank you to my 5 subscribers, and commenters. Shan, Carmen, and others, I really appreciate your comments. Thanks for stopping by. I don't have much happiness in my life these days, and the small kindness of reading a stranger's words means something to me. I know you two and others are moms, and our time is especially precious.
Thank you.
A Final Lament
Today is the last day I am going to whine and cry about R. I am going to indulge myself today in the hopes that tomorrow I wake up with a clear, empty heart. Empty of feelings, good and bad, for him. Full of love and pride and hope for my sweet, smart baby.
He and I met through an online dating website. He lived 2 hours from me, and was 7 years younger. I was *not* interested at all. He told me I had a beautiful smile. I thanked him. Ever polite, until you abandon me and my baby and have twins with a whore who slept around with everyone and bragged about it. Then I stop being polite. I was drawn in by his clever writing, and good grammar. We emailed and instant messaged, texted and talked. One of the first things he wrote to me was that he didn't want to be hurt anymore. I had been single for over two years, but had just started to date. I was happy, in a job I loved and hated, had friends living with me, and looked good. I met him, and was neither impressed nor repulsed. I spent a weekend at his house. Sometimes he was funny and witty, and sometimes he was very reserved. I spent a day with him at work, driving his truck. I fell for him. And he told me he wanted to work things out with his "ex" wife. They weren't divorced, even though he called her his ex. I missed him but mostly moved on. I sent him a letter and a couple of emails... and somehow we got back together.
Right from the beginning, as soon as I fell for R, I was done for. I loved him so intensely. Being with him felt like being in the sun. Or breathing. It felt right. It wasn't perfect. It was real though, and I never lost myself in the relationship. I met his kids, and loved them. It was the family I've always dreamed of. We had less pleasant times too. No question about that. I have faults, and he has faults. I have never been so happy as when I was with him. I truly believed he and I could work out any problem. And I would have spent the rest of my life proud and happy as his wife.
But he left, and I never knew he was unhappy, never had a chance to try to do better. I would have fought hard for our marriage, and our family.
I am not saying everything would have been great, you know, if he had stayed. I'll never know. Probably I would have resented him for not helping enough. He always was lazy. I didn't mind it, as I am too tightly wound. Maybe I would have suggested therapy. Maybe I would have grown tired of him. Like he grew tired of me. I doubt it, but being a mom has changed my perspective, and I know I would have always put Gumball first.
But he left. In one phone call I lost my best friend, my husband, my stepsons, my family, my hopes and dreams and my heart. Literally from one instant to the next. I don't know how I survived the pain, that even now, almost a year later, makes me sick to my stomach and weak. I miss him so badly. I was so proud and happy to be his wife, and to start a family together.
Tell me these people didn't love each other. Tell me. Because nothing makes sense anymore.
He and I met through an online dating website. He lived 2 hours from me, and was 7 years younger. I was *not* interested at all. He told me I had a beautiful smile. I thanked him. Ever polite, until you abandon me and my baby and have twins with a whore who slept around with everyone and bragged about it. Then I stop being polite. I was drawn in by his clever writing, and good grammar. We emailed and instant messaged, texted and talked. One of the first things he wrote to me was that he didn't want to be hurt anymore. I had been single for over two years, but had just started to date. I was happy, in a job I loved and hated, had friends living with me, and looked good. I met him, and was neither impressed nor repulsed. I spent a weekend at his house. Sometimes he was funny and witty, and sometimes he was very reserved. I spent a day with him at work, driving his truck. I fell for him. And he told me he wanted to work things out with his "ex" wife. They weren't divorced, even though he called her his ex. I missed him but mostly moved on. I sent him a letter and a couple of emails... and somehow we got back together.
Right from the beginning, as soon as I fell for R, I was done for. I loved him so intensely. Being with him felt like being in the sun. Or breathing. It felt right. It wasn't perfect. It was real though, and I never lost myself in the relationship. I met his kids, and loved them. It was the family I've always dreamed of. We had less pleasant times too. No question about that. I have faults, and he has faults. I have never been so happy as when I was with him. I truly believed he and I could work out any problem. And I would have spent the rest of my life proud and happy as his wife.
But he left, and I never knew he was unhappy, never had a chance to try to do better. I would have fought hard for our marriage, and our family.
I am not saying everything would have been great, you know, if he had stayed. I'll never know. Probably I would have resented him for not helping enough. He always was lazy. I didn't mind it, as I am too tightly wound. Maybe I would have suggested therapy. Maybe I would have grown tired of him. Like he grew tired of me. I doubt it, but being a mom has changed my perspective, and I know I would have always put Gumball first.
But he left. In one phone call I lost my best friend, my husband, my stepsons, my family, my hopes and dreams and my heart. Literally from one instant to the next. I don't know how I survived the pain, that even now, almost a year later, makes me sick to my stomach and weak. I miss him so badly. I was so proud and happy to be his wife, and to start a family together.
Tell me these people didn't love each other. Tell me. Because nothing makes sense anymore.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Recent Developments
I haven't posted in a while. Not sure why. Things have been normal. Good and bad. Gumball started napping her own, and I started getting less sleep bc I apparently can't nap without a baby attached to my bosom. She's growing up, and I am happy to get a little time away from her during the day. It makes my time with her a little more fun, I think. Even though I am a little more tired.
I had one kind of frustrating day. I finally found a therapist up here, and made an appointment to see her. God knows I do need help. I'm ok, but not thriving. And I want to be ready and poised to take antidepressants as soon as baby is done breastfeeding. I am going to try to stick out 6 more months. But talking helps too, as does 2 hours to myself in the middle of the day. So therapy. I had an appointment scheduled. My second with this particular psychiatric nurse practitioner. And as I was feeding Gumball lunch, the fire alarm started going off. Not full force, but an annoying cheep cheep cheep every minute or so. So I changed the battery, reset it, and waited. It kept cheeping. I called my mom, my friend E, and my neighbor. No help whatsoever. I called property management, and they sent a repair person. I was very anxious, and called the therapist to let her know I might be late, or might not come at all- BUT that I was going to try my best to make it. When Gumball's nanny came, I hauled ass, and made it to therapy with seconds to spare. Not enough time to go to the bathroom, which I hadn't done all day in my panicked state, but at least I didn't have to run to the building. And the therapist had left. I called, and expressed my frustration. But now I don't want to return to her. And the other NPs in the area are all not accepting new clients. I called my PCP for a referral, and we'll see how that goes. Honestly, I think time is the only thing that is going to make me feel better.
I hate that I tend to write when I am feeling low. It paints an unrealistic picture of how I am feeling. I have happy moments. Happy days even. I feel highs and laugh sometimes. Not a lot. Honestly, I have forced every laugh in the past year. Gumball doesn't laugh much either, which is probably my fault. I don't feel like laughing. Especially not today.
Gumball's dad became a father again, to twin daughters, yesterday.
I knew his she-who-shall-not-be-named was pregnant. I knew she was pregnant with twins. I did not expect him to use the name he wanted to give Gumball on his new daughter. I did not expect to see photos of their happy family posted all across my facebook page, from Gumball's great aunt and grandmother. I didn't expect to feel anything.
I felt horrible. So, for the first time in a year, I contacted R. I have joked, maybe even here, that I haven't responded to his texts bc I only text friends (I like to add that email is reserved for my enemies.) I couldn't help myself. I wrote him all the bitterness and hate in my heart. I am embarrassed to write what I said. It was offensive and awful. I am not a mean person. It made my stomach twist to write it. I reminded him of what his life will now hold: no chance to finish college, long, boring trucking jobs, and a partner who doesn't just have another man's name tattooed on her back, she has "property of XXX." I reminded him of these things and threw in some choice names. I called him a worthless, lazy, dimwit. He responded. Twice. Once yesterday. He said "magnanimous." It was one of the first compliments he gave me. I knew the hidden message. He misses me, he misses us. Then today he said, "Everything you said is absolutely correct. I'm definitely not good enough for you, but I want you to know that I love you and I miss you a lot."
One day after his twin girls were born.
Dirtbag.
Of course it didn't give me any pleasure. Well, no, it did give me some pleasure. Like biting a canker sore or peeling a sunburn.
God it is true. I miss him every single day. The only way I am able to move forward is to tell myself that he is dead. If it wasn't for Gumball, I would have begged him to come back. I truly believe this POS (piece of shit) is my soulmate. We had some wonderful times together. He challenged me and taught me so much, and our life together could have been wonderful. I really grieve for me, and this loss. The thing that makes it worse is that my choices will someday impact my sweet girl. For her sake, I will never, ever take him back. I pity his children, all five of them. I tried to save his boys, and Gumball will hopefully never know a father who could abandon her and never once ask about her.
That keeps me strong too. I will not take him back bc he never asked about our daughter, never once.
I had one kind of frustrating day. I finally found a therapist up here, and made an appointment to see her. God knows I do need help. I'm ok, but not thriving. And I want to be ready and poised to take antidepressants as soon as baby is done breastfeeding. I am going to try to stick out 6 more months. But talking helps too, as does 2 hours to myself in the middle of the day. So therapy. I had an appointment scheduled. My second with this particular psychiatric nurse practitioner. And as I was feeding Gumball lunch, the fire alarm started going off. Not full force, but an annoying cheep cheep cheep every minute or so. So I changed the battery, reset it, and waited. It kept cheeping. I called my mom, my friend E, and my neighbor. No help whatsoever. I called property management, and they sent a repair person. I was very anxious, and called the therapist to let her know I might be late, or might not come at all- BUT that I was going to try my best to make it. When Gumball's nanny came, I hauled ass, and made it to therapy with seconds to spare. Not enough time to go to the bathroom, which I hadn't done all day in my panicked state, but at least I didn't have to run to the building. And the therapist had left. I called, and expressed my frustration. But now I don't want to return to her. And the other NPs in the area are all not accepting new clients. I called my PCP for a referral, and we'll see how that goes. Honestly, I think time is the only thing that is going to make me feel better.
I hate that I tend to write when I am feeling low. It paints an unrealistic picture of how I am feeling. I have happy moments. Happy days even. I feel highs and laugh sometimes. Not a lot. Honestly, I have forced every laugh in the past year. Gumball doesn't laugh much either, which is probably my fault. I don't feel like laughing. Especially not today.
Gumball's dad became a father again, to twin daughters, yesterday.
I knew his she-who-shall-not-be-named was pregnant. I knew she was pregnant with twins. I did not expect him to use the name he wanted to give Gumball on his new daughter. I did not expect to see photos of their happy family posted all across my facebook page, from Gumball's great aunt and grandmother. I didn't expect to feel anything.
I felt horrible. So, for the first time in a year, I contacted R. I have joked, maybe even here, that I haven't responded to his texts bc I only text friends (I like to add that email is reserved for my enemies.) I couldn't help myself. I wrote him all the bitterness and hate in my heart. I am embarrassed to write what I said. It was offensive and awful. I am not a mean person. It made my stomach twist to write it. I reminded him of what his life will now hold: no chance to finish college, long, boring trucking jobs, and a partner who doesn't just have another man's name tattooed on her back, she has "property of XXX." I reminded him of these things and threw in some choice names. I called him a worthless, lazy, dimwit. He responded. Twice. Once yesterday. He said "magnanimous." It was one of the first compliments he gave me. I knew the hidden message. He misses me, he misses us. Then today he said, "Everything you said is absolutely correct. I'm definitely not good enough for you, but I want you to know that I love you and I miss you a lot."
One day after his twin girls were born.
Dirtbag.
Of course it didn't give me any pleasure. Well, no, it did give me some pleasure. Like biting a canker sore or peeling a sunburn.
God it is true. I miss him every single day. The only way I am able to move forward is to tell myself that he is dead. If it wasn't for Gumball, I would have begged him to come back. I truly believe this POS (piece of shit) is my soulmate. We had some wonderful times together. He challenged me and taught me so much, and our life together could have been wonderful. I really grieve for me, and this loss. The thing that makes it worse is that my choices will someday impact my sweet girl. For her sake, I will never, ever take him back. I pity his children, all five of them. I tried to save his boys, and Gumball will hopefully never know a father who could abandon her and never once ask about her.
That keeps me strong too. I will not take him back bc he never asked about our daughter, never once.
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