Names and Faces

As soon as she could voice an opinion, Gumball did.

Immediately, she renamed herself. At Disney, she was "Gator Gumball." Ride attendants and staff would call her "Princess," and my dear Gumball would scowl and say, "I'm NOT Princess. I'm Gator Gumbo!" In the absolute most offended, indignant way possible.

Now she is "Tractor Dump Truck." She recently told me that her name is actually Tractor Garbage Truck Dump Truck." Sometimes she corrects me when I call her by her given name.

Funny enough, or not, that's also what she wants to be for Halloween. A garbage truck. How do I make a garbage truck costume that my opinionated daughter will wear?

My little baby Gumball started pre-preschool this fall. She has bravely spent 12 hours a week with 9 other kids. She is the youngest in the class, and so shy and quiet. My heart breaks leaving her each day, but the time apart has been good for the both of us. I've enjoyed learning how to can, and then canning every goddamn thing in sight. Grocery shopping alone is wonderful and uplifting. On Fridays, I've even started horseback riding lessons. Riding a horse makes me feel fully alive. I love it so much.

I broke up with the nicest man ever. He cried three times in eleven dates. I couldn't take it. I felt like I had to be strong all the time, and the pressure was too much for me. I don't want a knight on a white horse. I'm not waiting to be rescued. I cannot take on that sort of responsibility. But he was awfully sweet.

The sweetest smelling man/boy ever has gone away. His absence hurts my heart. It really fucked me up when he told me that he loved me. I give my love freely, but never lightly. For him, "love" means something more like, "I think you're a cool person. Sort of. And I like you, a little bit, for the moment." I miss his smell, his backrubs, the way I felt in his arms, and the freeness I felt in his presence. But his selfish, immature ways, his childish cruelty, and his need to be with every woman he meets is just too much for me. He is toxic for me, but I miss him daily.  

Summer Loving

I've gone on many dates this summer. With several different kind, intelligent, unique, beautiful men.

Yes, men. No women. Why? No reason. No women wrote me back on the online dating sites. Disappointing, but out of my control.

With the first days of September already passing by, and Gumball with all of 12 hours of pre-pre-school under her tiny, little belt, I feel like summer is over. And with it, my carefree summer days and nights of hand-holding, first kisses, dirty texts, getting to know each other, long emails, and late night phone calls.

I met two particularly lovely men. Each with gorgeous souls. Each one perfect on his own. If I could combine them, I would have the perfect man for me. I think. Perfect. The one: tender, arrogant, wide-eyed, childish, impractical, obstinate, selfish, thoughtless, loving, filled with curiosity and wonder. He smells like sunshine, and his kisses make me melt. He doesn't want to date, just wants to be with whomever he chooses. And apparently, he chooses a lot. The other: considerate, kind, thoughtful, raw, messy, playful, giving, funny, hurting, lovely... and the best daddy-figure I've seen. Yes, daddy-ness factors in, somehow, some where. I don't know what weight to give it, or how to think of it, but I know that I want my Gumball to have a mom who is happy and fulfilled in a relationship, and I want her to have a father-figure someday. Shouldn't I be the one to provide her with the best life possible? Doesn't that include two parents? He wants to date me, and brings me flowers and beer. He writes me poems, and rubs my feet. But he is still a mess about his ruined marriage, and I feel like if I leaned on him, he would collapse. And yet...

At this point, I feel unsure about what it is that I want. Unsure about how to proceed.

God, somedays I feel like a failure as a parent, and a failure as a person.

I know what I would do if I was 25 and child free. I think know what I'd do if I were 45. But now? I don't know what to do. I'm scared that I've met the most perfect man for me, and may be about to let him go. Or not? I don't know.

This is My Life

I haven't been writing much lately.

Online dating is serious work. And seriously depressing. I'm on Match and OKCupid. I've written between 150-200 people. If anything, that's an underestimate. I've heard back from maybe 20.

It's ok, though. I have a huge crush on someone I met. He smells like candy, tastes like sunshine, and makes me feel dreamy. He also has a girlfriend.

Well, had a girlfriend.

Either way, this guy is never going to love me, and I'm a dumbass for wanting him. Like usual.

Brain Dump

I've been neglecting the blog, in part, bc I've been busy. I decided to add another exercise class to my routine. Pilates. Or, as I like to think of it, the most pain I've ever enjoyed. The class is brutal. I love it. I am the weakest in the class, the least coordinated, and I have also fallen over several times while attempting different maneuvers. Natural born athlete here. The only result I've seen so far, however, is a vast increase in appetite. I've been starving, and all I want to do is eat and eat. Which has helped stabilize the 5 lbs I gained back. Total weight loss= 13lbs. I am determined the lose the 5lbs (again) and then continue to lose some more.

I also haven't been writing bc I had another moment where I was questioning why I write, and what it means when someone I know but prefer not to share my life with discovers this blog. Awkward. Uncomfortable. Silencing. But... as long as I am honest with, and accountable to, myself, I will continue to write. I have nothing to be ashamed of, and nothing to hide.

So, I took my Gumball to Disney World. I had never been before, and couldn't even imagine how delightful it could be. It was extremely delightful. Gumball and I had a wonderful time. We loved spending time with my aunt, C, and my glorious ex-neighbor and best friend, J. We loved the rides, and the weather, and the walking, and Gumball loved the food. She has terrible taste. I was touched, moved to tears, in fact, when Pluto spent 7-10 minutes playing with my girl. She totally fell in love with him. It sounds like a small thing, but when anyone takes the time to make my kid experience true joy, it feels like my heart becomes too big to stay inside of my body. I felt that way a lot at Disney- seeing how Gumball reacted with open-mouthed excitement about everything. She didn't cry for a week. She danced, sang, shouted "HERE WE GO!" when we boarded every ride, bus, and plane. She was patient and pleasant for the entire trip, even at 4:30am, when we had to wake to catch our flight home.

What else can I say? I've been feeling happy, but wishing I could find someone to share this happiness with. I've been emailing with someone who I wish would become more than a goddamn penpal. We'll see what happens. I'll keep you posted.

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.

Me

Shivers and tingles. I am feeling them.

September 2012

I haven't been posting too much for a reason. I linked to this blog from my Instagram account, and then became paranoid about who would see what. Then I remembered: no one cares. I don't mean that in some melodramatic, teenage, hair-tossing sort of way, simply that everyone's lives are so full and busy that my blog doesn't really factor in too much.

Also? I was keeping a secret. This summer I fell in love. And, just like that, I fell out of love.

She is a lovely, kind, and very sweet person. Apparently, I need more than that. There was more to it than that, though. I didn't feel like she cared enough about me to truly get to know me. To ask me questions about me. Instead, she made assumptions and projected them on me. I also didn't feel appreciated. I would go out of my way to cook elaborate dinners, to buy thoughtful gifts, and to do things to please her, and these actions were rarely reciprocated, and even less frequently praised.

She didn't cheat on me, lie to me, or leave me, but things weren't right.

Am I going to be alone forever? I hope not.

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.