If You're Happy and You Know It...

I must be on a self-destructive streak. I am eating cheddar bunnies way past the point of serious heartburn. Not to mention that Gumball will kick my ass if they're all gone tomorrow. Baby _really_ loves her crackers these days. She'd cut a bitch for them.

So yeah. Went to MA. Saw my friend, missed her husband. Gumball vomited in the car, and I was so grateful for my mom's help. Other than vomiting, and refusing to sleep more than 30 minutes while in the car, Gumball did great. She slept through the night both nights, and went to sleep for bed and naps without a peep of complaint. The Kidco Peapod is an amazing creation. I wish I had one too, adult sized. I guess that's what tents are. Whatever. I want one. Yeah, and she only had to practice her (extensive) vocabulary once a night. While sleeping, I assume. Nothing like hearing, "kitty. meow. dog. Mia. Dia. Abbey. Nana. Titi. Mama. mum mum. moo. moo. etc" from a sleeping kid. She's so weird.

It was wonderful to see my friend. I missed her. I missed her grandkids, and her kids. It was terrific to see them. I really missed her husband though. I kept thinking of all the things he'd be raising hell about, if he were there. Like the Christmas decorations not being set up yet. He loves that hat-tipping snowman, and the Noel sign.

It felt unsettling to see my old house from the wrong side of the fence. It was as though a part of me could have still been living, in wedded bliss, with Gumball's dad. Going into the house, and seeing how abandoned it felt was heartbreaking. That house deserved more. I deserved more.

The trip was punctuated by constant singing. Nana thinks that singing helps the baby get smarter. I'm pretty sure that hours of "If You're Happy and You Know It" followed by "I've Been Working on the Railroad" followed by "You are my Sunshine" is not doing anything good for Gumball's brain.

It felt so good to be back where I know where to drive, where Mexican food is 10 minutes away, and where I run into people I know at Target. Yup. I miss Massachusetts. I wouldn't have moved home if I hadn't needed to. And being here is so good for Gumball, and for me. I'm just lonely here in VT, that's all. I think I'd be just as lonely in MA. But I'd have more company, probably.

Tonight, when I put Gumball to bed, I said, "Goodnight. Mama loves you, Gumball." When I was shutting the door, she yelled, "Night night, Dia."

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.

Assorted Pondering

I don't share my life like this on an everyday occasion. Probably due to the fact that I am alone, with a 10 month old, most of the time. My little rat is great company, but I don't want to burden her with my negative musings about her dad. Now or ever.

If I was surrounded by loved ones, I would be spilling my guts every single day. Instead I write to strangers. I haven't shared the presence of this blog with anyone who knows me yet. That's because I'm not divorced yet. Most of my friends don't even know I moved. They're probably done wondering why I haven't returned their calls and texts. I just need the divorce to be finalized and custody settled. Then- who knows? Maybe I'll share it, or maybe not.

I got another text message from Gumball's dad. It said, "are we ever going to talk again?" He's such a coward. I will never respond to him, until he asks about our child. He has never asked about her, never sent one dollar for her, never looked back. Not once. She is such a lovely, pure, perfect little being. Radiant and joyful. And he has never asked about her. If he did, I might respond. In some way or other. Probably not by text. Because I am an adult. I only text my friends. I email my enemies.

In the spirit of disclosure, I will say that I loved Gumball's dad very much. When we were together, he was like the light and air in my world. Losing that is very painful. Losing his two boys, who I knew from when they were 3 and 5, until they were 6 and 8, is excruciating. The part that sends shivers of nausea throughout my body is the fact that he left my house and moved back in with his ex-wife. I used to think she and I were very similar. She was very friendly to me. And I'm one of those honest, open idiots, and I thought we were friends. Not only did we have many things in common, but we shared one very important thing. We both loved her kids. When the older one was having trouble in school, she would tell me about the meetings she would have with his teachers, and we would strategize how to improve his experience and education. She and I were close, in a way. Her dad wrote me a lovely letter and became my friend on Facebook. He said he wanted to be friends with the person who had done so much and been so good to his grandsons. And when Gumball's dad and I broke up, for a couple of months, before he came back with a ring and so many beautiful promises, she told me how lucky I was to escape him, and told me all about the misery he brought into her life. I cared about her, both as a person and as the mother to the two boys I loved. Consequently, when my little girl's dad begged me to loan him money, not for himself, but so he could help his ex pay for an apartment, I agreed. He planned on paying me back, she knew I was paying her rent, and first and foremost, the boys would have a stable home. I paid $6000 for the apartment that Gumball's dad moved into the day he left my house. I paid for it. I paid for it.

It bears repeating. I paid for it.

The day he told me he was leaving, I had been shopping for his boys. I bought all their school clothing when I was weeks away from giving birth. I always did, because I never wanted them to stick out in school. Weeks after he left, before I knew he was back together with his ex, I called her. Because I was worried that she and the boys would be homeless, since he was no longer paying their rent. She never answered,  and never returned my call, but with the amazing baby who never slept, I couldn't do more. And then I found out they were living together.

They bought a house about two weeks ago. Since leaving Gumball and me, it seems that his life has gotten better and better. I often wonder how one person can bear this much pain. I don't know how I made it from there to here.

Then I remember. THIS is how I made it. This sweet little girl. Who in the past two weeks has started to sit up on her own, crawl, pull up to a stand, and also started getting her left incisor. She is happy, and healthy, and that means everything to me. I love her so much. For her, I would gladly brave months of sleepless nights, heartbreak and betrayal, and crushing loneliness. I am so proud of my girl for her accomplishments, and proud of myself for surviving.