Winter Blues

I'm obsessed with seaweed snacks. Cool, right? Great way to be on my diet, right? WRONG! I like to use them to wrap up and devour little nuggets of avocado. Delicious! Funny enough, little Gumball loves seaweed. Weirdo.

I'm also obsessed with fruit smoothies. Particularly frozen strawberries, frozen blueberries, skim milk... and honey. Lots of honey. Delicious. Gumball doesn't care for this snack so much, as it turns out.

In other news, I have extreme winter-related fatigue. I want to walk outside without my nose freezing and dripping. I want to slip on flip flops and go- no coats, no boots, no preparation at all. I'm tired of negotiating, bribing, and threatening my kid into warm clothing. I'm ready for spring. Not the twelve inches of snow that are expected tomorrow. Ick.

I miss my guy. I haven't heard a peep from him, and my friends have insisted that I give him the space to come back to me, if he wants to. I am listening to them, but dear lord, it is hard. I keep thinking of what I want to say to him. I want to tell him that as much as I understand and respect his reasons for not wanting to be in a relationship, especially since his family responsibilities are quite heavy, and bound to become even more so, that there is never going to be a better time than now. What I mean is, that life never clears up. The burden never gets lighter, you just get used to what you have to carry. You get stronger. Life never stops, and if he wants to be in a relationship, then he needs to figure out how to fit it into his life. And I am right here, caring about him, wanting him, and wanting to see if we could try this together.

The obvious answer to my plea, is that he just doesn't want a relationship with me. Obvious, sparklingly clear.

So I just wait. And stay mute, hoping he'll call or write. Being the best mom I can be, trying to be a good friend too, and feeling like my entire life is made of faded colors and shadows. I miss him, and I miss how he made me feel. 

Catch-up, or Not Quite

I am behind. Christmas threw me for a loop, with the incessant singing of Christmas carols and making merry. I was overjoyed to be celebrating with my loved ones, thrilled to have a full house, and feeling the giddy, euphoric, terrifying stirrings of real, true, deep... "romantic feelings."

(Please note: not love. Romantic feelings. NOT love. I refuse to allow myself to go that far. But... romantic feelings that I could not repress, that were spilling out of my mouth, and seeping from my pores.)

Two weeks ago, I thought about writing about how happy I was. Gumball has been incredibly sweet, and delightful. Funny, precious, charming, and kind of insane. My romance was going really well. I felt special, valued, and brimming over with feelings.

Since then, he's become distant. No explanation.

There's no more bubbling euphoria.

I'll give this gentle, passionate, humble, but masterful man some time to get his head out of his ass. It's hard to wait, not knowing if he's just done with me, or if he's dealing with his own issues and needs time. I'm just feeling a little sad, and deflated. Am I always going to be alone?

To end on a positive note, I've now lost 16 pounds since starting my diet. My goal is to lose 25 more, and exchange the label "obese" for simply "large." 

Another Day, Another Complaint

Haven't felt much like writing. I hate long, boring books, when the main characters just wallow and complain and never do anything. Too much like the Twilight series. And I have nothing positive to say. I feel sad. I think Gumball's dad, and she who shall not be named (AKA Cuntmuffin) are pregnant. With twins. I read it in her blog. Which I read to torture myself and to see my former stepsons. It feels kind of like a new betrayal. I'll never have the big family I've always wanted. When my mom dies, I'll only have Gumball. When I die, Gumball will be all alone. I hate this.

I feel so entirely, profoundly alone these days. I feel like a failure in my career. I could be a better parent.  I've gotten really fat. Apparently my father's prediction is true- I actually AM too fat to be loved. Ha! At least that makes me laugh, in a dark way.

The baby has been vomiting on and off this entire week. She's been to the doctor, and I've called the doctor several times. He thinks it's a virus. She has no fever, isn't dehydrated, and seems pretty happy- but the vomiting freaks me out. And every meal is a challenge. She hates all food.

Because I've been worried about the baby, I haven't wanted to get her off her schedule too much. I mean, she has no schedule, so I can't plan anything. Fine, whatever. But she needs a nap 3-4 hours after waking up, and then 3-4 hours after that. Which I usually bend so I can see friends (IE- not be alone all the fucking time.) But now that she's feeling not so great, I am hesitant to mess with her nap times too much. Thus, alone.

I feel very sorry for myself. I'm not sleeping, and, according to my recent weigh-in, eating way too much. I'm seeing a therapist next Wednesday, which will be good, I guess. Sadly, I fear that talking isn't going to help me much. I need company and affection. I need a little break. I need someone to share the tremendous stress of a baby who doesn't want to eat. Thank god for my nanny, who is a huge support.

Weekends suck.