Gumball Says...

Tonight, my precious, little darling Gumball asked me if Horton would fit in my bellybutton.

Horton is her 10-inch long stuffed elephant. He apparently Hears a Who.

NO FUCKING WAY, kid. And if he could, it would be entirely your fault. Grrrrr...



Doing Pilates yesterday, and Zumba tonight may have been a mistake.  I am dead. The vast landscape between my thighs and ribcage is on fire. My "core," if I have one, is broken.



I was thinking about something else today too. Why I write. I write bc I want to share my limited experience. A little more than two years ago, my life ended. I hit depths of anguish, terror, sorrow, loneliness, heartbreak, and fear that I never knew existed. It was unrelenting, and I honestly have no idea how I survived. Actually I do. Sheer fucking determination and stubbornness. When my first best friend offered me a lifeline, I grabbed hold. With both hands. My mom, and my new friends in Vermont, breathed joy into my lifeless being. I learned a little during this experience. I learned to appreciate any small reason to be happy. I learned how infinitesimally small the space is in between having a happy and successful life, and complete darkness and despair. I doubled my capacity for compassion. I gained a whole new love and respect for moms, and their kindness, strength, generosity, and love. I met women who are the best friends, people, parents, dining companions, fashion consultants, vacation planners anyone could ever want.

And I hope that someone might read this, and realize that no matter how bad things are, they will always get better. Open your hands to accept lifelines, and keep plugging away. Happiness will return.

Catch Up

Remember that time when I vowed to stop bitching, and predicted that this might possibly impact my blogging output?

Yeah. Apparently when I'm not bitching, I have nothing to say. Nothing interesting, anyhow.

So, let me catch y'all up. (Resounding silence.) Dude! I look at the page views. I know someone must be reading this, right? For the love of all things superficial, leave a comment, will you, please? Ok, thanks.

Tonight, I tried a Pilates class. My diet has gone into the toilet. Sort of. I've been a whole lot less concerned about staying under calories. Consequently, I've gained back 3 pounds. Bringing my total loss to 15lbs. Pretty good, but I still want to get back to losing weight. Honestly, I think it has to with the fact that no one is seeing me naked anymore. Mr. Bond was very good for my diet. Anyhow, Pilates. My "core" is trembling still. So freaking hard. I'm going to try to add a class to my weekly routine. Let's see how that goes. I can still be superfat, but with a core of steel. I'm ok with that. I may not be able to make it up the stairs tonight though, which is less cool.

Dating: man, dating is weird and sucky. I've been emailing with several people. Two of note: the most handsome and perfect man in the world, and another army guy. Mr. Perfect is young, built, charming, sweet, and loves kids. He was a nude model in college (for art classes) and is a successful artist. Swoon. He's perfect. Too perfect for me, I fear. Army guy is finishing out a career in the Special Forces. He is handsome, and stern, and we've been emailing since Mr. Bond checked out. His messages are thoughtful and caring, and he is very proper about not being suggestive with me, which I kind of appreciate. He claims to have feelings for me though, and I feel like anyone who claims to have feelings without first being together, is basing their feelings on their own assumptions, and their own hopeful projections. It makes me uncomfortable, but at the same time, it's sort of sweet.

Gumball: the kid is a ticket. She's inquisitive, sweet, hilarious, and so smart. She is taking a gymnastics class with one of her toddler buddies, and spends most of the class running away from me and ignoring what the teacher tries to get her to do. But she adores the trampoline, or the "run and jump" as we call it. She passionately loves all babies, and always asks me "why is that baby crying?" when she hears wailing. She is gentle and sweet with babies too, and only tries to pile several toys on top of them, in an offering of true love. She wolfs down boxes of seaweed, begs for gummy candy, and refuses to eat half of what I put in front of her. She loves Pumpkin so much, and often tries to dress and decorate him. Being a mom to my special Gumball is a complete delight. She makes my heart grow bigger each day, just to contain some of the love that I have for her. She is so precious, unique, and wonderful.

I've recently been forced to think about why I write. At first, I wrote to share anecdotes about baby Gumball. Then, I needed to work out some issues. Writing helped me immensely. And now we've reached a point where I free-flow write about whatever topic piques my interest. I am considering the idea of focusing my writing, or finding a theme, but honestly, I'm not sure if I want to be that organized. Blogging is a funny thing, for me. I enjoy recording my thoughts and experiences, and I enjoy sharing them, with my phantom and possibly non-existent audience. I also find myself in a funny place with the public/private aspects of my blog. I link to my blog from my Instagram account. I link to my blog from my BabyCenter account. And no where else. Consequently, I think that more strangers than friends tend to read this. Maybe not. I really don't know who reads this. And anyone who knows me knows that I am pretty open with the private aspects of my life. I refuse to be ashamed or silenced in my own life. Anyhow, twice recently, I have had pangs of regret/confusion/dread/annoyance to find that someone I didn't want inside my head had been reading my blog. I've had to let go of those feelings, bc I have no control over who reads this, why they read it, and how they respond to my words. 

I won't offer explanations, excuses, or defense for what I write. I don't need to. This is my blog, where I write for myself, and for the love of writing. I am honest, and I am not ashamed. I write about experiences that belong to me, and I try to entertain, titillate, and amuse anyone who takes a moment to read my musings. I even try to proofread.

Fortune Teller

My life has been a whirlwind. Guests- friends and family. For a week. A visit from Gumball's paternal grandmother and great aunt. Three days and nights in the Big Easy. I've never been anywhere where people are so friendly and outgoing. Between the food, sights, people, history, architecture, and experiences, I was floored. Now I understand the allure. I'm no 20 year old spring-breaker, but the air in New Orleans is enchanted, and I had an absolutely magical visit.

This was due, in part, to my travel companion. No, not Gumball. Gumball stayed home with Nana, and I hopped onto a plane with one of my friends. She is the best, and between the two of us, we managed to devour, walk, talk to, drink, and feel up all of New Orleans. We did it all, and it felt amazing. I couldn't have had a better companion, and we had a wonderful time.

Of particular note were these two restaurants: Cochon and Emeril's Delmonico. We ate everything. From fried liver on toast speckled with pepper jelly, to barbequed shrimp and grits, to rabbit and dumplings, and $40 steaks. Unbelievably delicious food and once in a lifetime experiences.

I saw a fortune teller too. He told me to let go of the feeling that occurrences in the past reflect my personal failures. It is true though. Deep down, I feel like I am somehow to blame for Gumball's dad's departure. I feel like his leaving shows my flaws and dirty underbelly. Exposes me as undesirable and a fraud to everyone. Bc why else would he have left, unless there was something really horrible about me? I often wonder if people I meet, when they hear my story, if they're trying to detect what it is about me that made him leave. As though I carry a faint odor of rotting flesh, or am a lousy lover, or whatever fatal flaw I must cleverly hide.

I am going to try to let go of that feeling of failure. I've tried and tried to make sense of it, and while blaming myself is probably the most comfortable and familiar path, I decline to continue to carry this doubt and blame any further.

The fortune teller also told me that I would have another child. It's a dream that I am scared to admit, and keep wrapped tightly inside, so that the disappointment of being single in my waning years of fertility doesn't make me sad. And I am incredibly blessed to have my beautiful and precious Gumball, so much so that it seems greedy to ask for more. I also know that raising two kids on my own would be very challenging, and possibly more than I could handle. In my heart of hearts, I would love to meet someone, have a relationship, and have a child within the embrace of that relationship. It's too much to ask of my uterus, I am afraid. But the fortune teller's words soothed me, nonetheless.

May 2012

My darling Gumball has decided to take a break from napping. For a week. I thought it was over, because she napped yesterday, but no. No nap again today. She plays, happily, and cries, unhappily, in her crib. It's awful. I brought her to the doctor. Nothing wrong. Nana laughed at me, because in her opinion, Gumball is completely fine, just acting like a normal, bratty two year old. She's like a tiny, drunk tyrant: irrational, emotional, prone to fits of laughter and tears. Completely unable to be satisfied. Terrible. It really is wrenching when your kid wants something, and is miserable, and also has no way to articulate what she wants. Lila has a huge vocabulary, but she is no where near being able to say how she feels. Very frustrating.

I went out with E two more times. Dates 5 and 6. She's lovely. We have a great time together. She likes me. And I am... scared. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do. I don't want to be hurt again. I don't want to hurt her either. I know, I know. Take it day by day. I am doing that. But I am also worrying about literally everything else that I could possibly worry about. And then there's Gumball. When do I let them meet? I am very conflicted about everything. Wish there were some answers out there.

Shaking Hands

Gumball has this book about puppies. On one page, it says something about how puppies can be trained to shake hands. When I read that page, Lila literally shakes her hands. Like tiny maracas. It took me a while to figure out what the heck she was doing. Then I understood. Shaking hands. Right.

This age is so much fun.

Happy 21 months, Gumball. Mama loves you!

Halloween and Then Some

First and foremost, I will start this entry by recounting the weeks of festivities surrounding Halloween. And I thought college students made the most of the holiday. Well, Oberlin College students do, at least. Yeah, well, they have nothing going on compared to babies.

Gumball and I, and two mom friends and their four (combined) kids went trick or treating eight days before Halloween. It was fun. I really enjoy these women. Not so fond of my pants. Dear god, do I really look this awful?

Continuing the fanfare, I accidentally celebrated Halloween several days early at playgroup. I'm not naming names, but someone (AHEM!) told me that everyone would be dressing up. So I dutifully stuffed Gumball into her duck costume. Again. And went to playgroup, where she was the only one in costume. Awesome. At least SHE is too young to be embarrassed.

Gumball had two outfits to wear on Halloween day. A daytime tutu and shirt. 

And, you know. The damn duck costume. For night. Again. At night, she also had her friend Kitty with her. And Little Dada, her babydoll. I was pleasantly surprised by how much the kids enjoyed trick or treating. We only went to four or five houses, but Gumball (Duck) and Kitty were smiling and chatting the entire time. I was certain she'd scream and cry, but I lucked out.

 Since I'm sharing photos, I'll share my favorite from my lovely friend C's visit. Last time I saw C, about two years ago, she was engaged. At this visit, I got to meet her charming and thoughtful husband, and their adorable baby. Gumball was a little obsessed with the baby. She basically spent the entire visit staring at him, and rocking him, while he was in the baby rocker. Later on, she enjoyed "being the baby" and rocking in the rocker. What a ham!

Other recent fun events involved a trip to Walmart. It was fun because they have double carts. And the kids didn't mess with each other at all.

 

 I'm doing well. I've received a few texts from Gumball's dad, but even though I miss him, I'm just not able to trust him. He doesn't understand how I can miss and love him, but be completely unwilling to take him back. He must have a piece missing. More to the point, these days, I'm trying to pay more attention to actions. Actions over words. And I really have moved on. Want to know how much I've moved on?

That's right. I joined a dating site.

It's true.

I don't feel like I want anything fast or serious, but I have been exchanging messages with three very interesting people. I may have even suggested a date with one of them.

Back to my goal of having a date while I'm still 36. Seems like it may actually come true.

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.

Accomplishments: Big and Small

I got a lot done today, and it feels good. Doing anything with an infant feels, to me, like jogging with a 100 pound weight on your back. I detest jogging. Too much of my body moves, and it seems pointless. I would happily chase down a taco truck. Or, you know, free pie. I would race as fast as I could if I was going to miss True Blood. Shoot, I'd even trot for Judge Judy. But running, for running's sake? Ehhh, I just don't want to.

Anyhow, today Gumball had a follow-up ultrasound. When she was in utero, the doctors discovered that she has Hydronephrosis. Moderate, in one kidney. I though it was the left kidney, but the doctor's notes said it was the right. Mark my words, I am right. Unless, of course, I am wrong. That does happen. Infrequently.

When Gumball was 4 weeks old, she had a follow-up ultrasound at Children's Hospital Boston. Gumball's dad was in school, and didn't want to miss a day to go to the appointment with me. I pretty much hadn't slept in 4 weeks, so my mom came down from VT to go with us. That was the last time I saw Gumball's dad- he stayed in a hotel when my mom came down, bc he didn't want to see her. That's another story. Anyhow, she was retested today, and I have to wait to hear her results. Waiting is intolerable. I just hope everything is ok.

After Gumball's afternoon nap, the nanny came. I took the opportunity to change diaper bags. I know. Totally fascinating. Then, after that, I moved my small entryway bench up to the baby's room. Based on my mom's suggestion. She has good taste. I have none. I recently described my decorating style as "place all furniture along the wall." Decorating is something I can't grasp. My mom has great taste. She painted her stairs glossy black, and put on a zebra runner. Which sounds terribly tacky, but just kind of blends in. Her house is very comfortable and understated, which is why the stairway is so amazing and dramatic. Not tacky at all. Anyhow, my mom suggested that I move the small storage bench to the baby's room- and one day later- I did it!!! I was on fire today!

Not to mention that yesterday I finally put up the mirrored stars around the border's of Gumball's room. Only took me 10 months, but hey! I did it!

I think I was inspired, in part, by my new friend Shan. I "met" Shan on BabyCenter. She's my second friend from there. Such a warm, kind person. And funny. She has a blog that regularly makes me laugh: http://counterfeitfake.blogspot.com/. I can totally imagining hanging out with her in real life. My first BabyCenter friend, M, is a lovely person too. Our girls were born on the same day, and we started sleep training them on the same day- after months and months of getting zero sleep. She's a strong woman who doesn't know her strength. She has 3 kids, and her husband works away from home- so she is outnumbered 3 to 1 most of the time. Shan also has 3 kids. I can barely manage 1 baby. And I don't work or shower every day. I don't know how these women do it. But I am grateful to have met them. And Shan is working on an accent wall. This is beyond my (stunted) decorating skills, but I am looking forward to seeing the finished product.

In conclusion... here are some new photos of my darling girl. She is so smart.

Gumball's First Photo Shoot

Right now it's 84 degrees in my living room and I am too hot to write much. Just wanted to share the slideshow from Gumball's first photo shoot with me and Nana. Loved it.


http://tinyurl.com/6z29xlh

Photo Bomb

Now the the weather is (slowly) getting warmer, we've really been enjoying going to the park. Gumball loves the swings. Sometimes she tucks her little arms into the infant swing. Looks like a floating head. Other times she likes her arms out, and claps and claps. She's really big on practicing her new skills. All the time. She is so smart.

Here are some photos from the past couple of weeks.

Attitude

Endless games of peekaboo, with anything she can "hide" behind