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.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Monday, June 24, 2013
Summer and Sundry
I was feeling verbally constipated, until I realized that my "all important" words only matter to me, ultimately. I can bluster and bitch, but I'm the only one who lives these words. And I'm not ashamed. I am doing the best I can, and I feel like I'm even learning to occasionally choose the easy path over the moral highroad.
That's a funny lesson to learn, right? Occasionally, I think I make things harder for myself than need be. I want to be as kind, and moral as possible. But goddamn, sometimes even I need a break. And that's ok. I want to be moral, but I also want to be happy.
It's been a busy spring and summer. Little Gumball and I took our first trip alone. Needless to say, our second flight, alone, together, was canceled. We hung out in an airport for 10 hours. More or less. Gumball was a champion. Patient, happy, and adorable. People stopped me to tell me how wonderfully behaved she was. We arrived in Raleigh at 8pm, went out to dinner, and traveled to Duck, Outer Banks. We had an amazing week of beach, wild horses, delicious food, and dolphins. Gumball was an amazing travel companion. And I got to do karaoke for the first time. I sang "Like a Prayer" and it was amazing.
And if I can ever figure out how to join Google Plus, without using my real name, I'll upload the video.
I also got to spend 2 days with my former stepsons. I was overjoyed to see them, and Gumball was enchanted with her half brothers. No one made a big deal about their relationship, or the past. I didn't want to cause the boys one second of discomfort, and I wanted everything to be light and fun. I felt my heart soar, break, and then rebreak when I saw them. I was incredibly happy to get to spend time with them. And incredibly sad to know that I may never get the chance to see them again. Honestly, it's too painful for me to think about, or write about. I miss those boys so much. Letting them go, again, made me feel approximately 500 years old. And there's nothing I can do about it.
Then we came home, played with our friends, and went on a trip to Santa's Village with some of our best girls. We played on rides, splashed in the water, and refused to sit with Santa. The grownup girls enjoyed wine and cheese in the parking lot every night. It was a terrific trip, and the White Mountains of NH are just spectacular.
And it's summer. The condo association opened a pool. Warm weather is glorious. We're happy and healthy, and Gumball is doing well with her potty training.
Life is good.
That's a funny lesson to learn, right? Occasionally, I think I make things harder for myself than need be. I want to be as kind, and moral as possible. But goddamn, sometimes even I need a break. And that's ok. I want to be moral, but I also want to be happy.
It's been a busy spring and summer. Little Gumball and I took our first trip alone. Needless to say, our second flight, alone, together, was canceled. We hung out in an airport for 10 hours. More or less. Gumball was a champion. Patient, happy, and adorable. People stopped me to tell me how wonderfully behaved she was. We arrived in Raleigh at 8pm, went out to dinner, and traveled to Duck, Outer Banks. We had an amazing week of beach, wild horses, delicious food, and dolphins. Gumball was an amazing travel companion. And I got to do karaoke for the first time. I sang "Like a Prayer" and it was amazing.
And if I can ever figure out how to join Google Plus, without using my real name, I'll upload the video.
I also got to spend 2 days with my former stepsons. I was overjoyed to see them, and Gumball was enchanted with her half brothers. No one made a big deal about their relationship, or the past. I didn't want to cause the boys one second of discomfort, and I wanted everything to be light and fun. I felt my heart soar, break, and then rebreak when I saw them. I was incredibly happy to get to spend time with them. And incredibly sad to know that I may never get the chance to see them again. Honestly, it's too painful for me to think about, or write about. I miss those boys so much. Letting them go, again, made me feel approximately 500 years old. And there's nothing I can do about it.
Then we came home, played with our friends, and went on a trip to Santa's Village with some of our best girls. We played on rides, splashed in the water, and refused to sit with Santa. The grownup girls enjoyed wine and cheese in the parking lot every night. It was a terrific trip, and the White Mountains of NH are just spectacular.
And it's summer. The condo association opened a pool. Warm weather is glorious. We're happy and healthy, and Gumball is doing well with her potty training.
Life is good.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Mother's Day
The last time I wrote, excitement and hope were percolating inside me, dripping and splashing, bc I was chatting with a chef online. I was excited bc it seemed like he and I had a whole lot in common. The day after I wrote, I was curious about why the chef hadn't responded to my last message. So I looked at his Facebook page. And... he unfriended me! It really crushed me, for about 12 hours. I'm over it now, but really? Who does that? Fool. It's totally his loss.
This week, the weather was spectacular and we spent every possible moment outside. Gumball loves playing in the dirt, making nests and houses for sticks and pinecones. Picking dandelions. If she gives me one, she says "and no moh." And she laughs about it. If I stop weeding, chasing her, and building houses, and try to lie down for a minutes in the sun, she jumps on my back and bounces around like I'm a trampoline. Sometimes I sneak some cuddles and kisses, but mostly she piles leaves on my head and tries to break my back.
Gumball has been a little... spicy lately. Full of chat, vigorous, and not at all helpful. Worst of all, she doesn't flinch when I threaten a time out, so I've had to follow through with several time outs in the past few days. She also finally discovered that she could get off her mattress at night. She likes to get out of bed, face the video monitor, and talk to me. It's very creepy. I don't know how she knows to do that. Also, I have the cheapest video monitor available, and I can't respond to her. It drives me nuts when she wants to play all night. I am wondering if it would be a good time to eliminate nap, but I so DO NOT want that to happen. I need my afternoon nap/rest/free time. Nap is the only thing keeping me from letting Gumball watch tv, I think.
Today is Mother's Day. Mother's Day is bittersweet for me. I have a mom, who deserves to be celebrated and pampered more than anyone I know. I have a toddler, who requires constant care and attention. So I do my best to make my mom feel special, and continue with my regular obligations. I know this is a Hallmark holiday, designed to make all of us feel inadequate and dissatisfied, but I so rarely hear praise about my mothering, or receive any sort of recognition for all that I do, that this holiday fills me with bitterness and sorrow for all the love and support that I don't get. I am reminded, too, of the way my ex would always buy at least a card for his ex (and current) and how I thought he was so thoughtful to treat her so well. That is bc I am a fool. All his talk about appreciating her for raising his sons. And he has never once tried to see his daughter, or done anything for her mother, me.
Despite this, I had a wonderful day today. My brother, S, was visiting. He gave me a beautiful card and told me how proud he was of me and what a good mom I am. Then my mom came over with a cake, and chocolate covered strawberries that she made for me. And presents. Then we all went out to lunch, and when we came home, we worked on the garden for a little bit, and then Gumball and I took a long nap together.
I am lucky, and blessed, to have such an amazing mother, and such a wonderful (spicy) kid.
This week, the weather was spectacular and we spent every possible moment outside. Gumball loves playing in the dirt, making nests and houses for sticks and pinecones. Picking dandelions. If she gives me one, she says "and no moh." And she laughs about it. If I stop weeding, chasing her, and building houses, and try to lie down for a minutes in the sun, she jumps on my back and bounces around like I'm a trampoline. Sometimes I sneak some cuddles and kisses, but mostly she piles leaves on my head and tries to break my back.
Gumball has been a little... spicy lately. Full of chat, vigorous, and not at all helpful. Worst of all, she doesn't flinch when I threaten a time out, so I've had to follow through with several time outs in the past few days. She also finally discovered that she could get off her mattress at night. She likes to get out of bed, face the video monitor, and talk to me. It's very creepy. I don't know how she knows to do that. Also, I have the cheapest video monitor available, and I can't respond to her. It drives me nuts when she wants to play all night. I am wondering if it would be a good time to eliminate nap, but I so DO NOT want that to happen. I need my afternoon nap/rest/free time. Nap is the only thing keeping me from letting Gumball watch tv, I think.
Today is Mother's Day. Mother's Day is bittersweet for me. I have a mom, who deserves to be celebrated and pampered more than anyone I know. I have a toddler, who requires constant care and attention. So I do my best to make my mom feel special, and continue with my regular obligations. I know this is a Hallmark holiday, designed to make all of us feel inadequate and dissatisfied, but I so rarely hear praise about my mothering, or receive any sort of recognition for all that I do, that this holiday fills me with bitterness and sorrow for all the love and support that I don't get. I am reminded, too, of the way my ex would always buy at least a card for his ex (and current) and how I thought he was so thoughtful to treat her so well. That is bc I am a fool. All his talk about appreciating her for raising his sons. And he has never once tried to see his daughter, or done anything for her mother, me.
Despite this, I had a wonderful day today. My brother, S, was visiting. He gave me a beautiful card and told me how proud he was of me and what a good mom I am. Then my mom came over with a cake, and chocolate covered strawberries that she made for me. And presents. Then we all went out to lunch, and when we came home, we worked on the garden for a little bit, and then Gumball and I took a long nap together.
I am lucky, and blessed, to have such an amazing mother, and such a wonderful (spicy) kid.
Friday, May 3, 2013
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.
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.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Father
I mention my mom a lot. Both here, and in real life. My mom is an amazing, powerful, genuine, generous person. I love her. She saved my life. She's a wonderful grandmother to my Gumball. Really wonderful. Like most people, she occasionally hurts my feelings, and annoys me. I also wish she was the sort of grandmother who'd willingly watch Gumball for a full day, or a night, maybe every couple of months. That's just not her. Oh well. She's always here when I need her.
My mom isn't perfect. When my parents divorced, when I was a child, she lost custody of me. She allowed my father to take me out of the country to live. I went many years with very infrequent visits to my mom. I missed her in a horrible, constant way, but I was too afraid of my father to even ask to see more of her. I wasn't entirely miserable all the time I lived with my dad, but I was lonely and scared a lot. I had a life that seemed idyllic. Who wouldn't want to grow up in the Caribbean? Who wouldn't want to spend their days SCUBA diving, living in a tropical paradise, surrounded by Vervet monkeys, mangoes, and beaches? I had friends, and experiences that many people just dream about. I traveled throughout the Caribbean. But in my heart, I was one scared, lonely, sad, little kid. No one has ever been happier to go off to boarding school for high school. I left home when I was 14 and never went back.
Back to my mom. This is why I think she's the best person I've ever met. She has admitted, acknowledged, and apologized for every mistake she made, for letting me leave the country, for losing custody, for everything. Everyone makes mistakes. Even serious ones. It takes a strong, honest person to own up to those mistakes, and to offer restitution. I hope I can be a person like my mom.
Except for one brief, uncomfortable, unplanned encounter in Barnes and Noble in 2010, I haven't spoken to my father since 2000.
My father wasn't nice to me. When I think about him, and how he treated me, I pathologize and try to diagnose him. Something is wrong with him. Bipolar? Drug addict? Narcissistic Personality Disorder? Schizophrenic? Fucking insane? Yes. The last label always fits. He took a lot of my childhood, and ruined it. So many of my memories of childhood involve tears and screaming. Maybe someday I'll elaborate on the hell he put me through. Mostly though, it makes me too sad to share.
I got married in 2000. To a man who is, to this day, a close friend. He gave me strength, and when my father started one of his regular tirades about my flaws, faults, and general failings (real and imagined), I told him that I refused to be spoken to like this anymore. The end.
When I got pregnant, I knew my mom would play a huge role in my baby girl's life. I wondered if I was making a mistake by not patching things up with my father. I worried and fretted about it. Forgiveness is touted as the strongest, most soul-soothing action one can take. And when Gumball's dad left, I was so desperate for help that I considered calling my father. He would have helped me. For whatever his "help" is worth. I don't think he's an evil person, just deeply rotten, and sick. It was clear to me that I would never be able to leave my darling Gumball with my father. I could never knowingly put her at risk. The price for his help was too much for me.
The balm of forgiveness is not for me.
Will my inability to forgive keep me out of heaven? I try to eliminate bitterness and lies from my heart, but I won't sacrifice my daughter to achieve some sort of cosmic state of zen. Fuck that. I'm a mom now, and I can bear any burden. Cosmic peace is not for me, but I will do everything in my power to keep my Gumball safe, and happy.
My mom isn't perfect. When my parents divorced, when I was a child, she lost custody of me. She allowed my father to take me out of the country to live. I went many years with very infrequent visits to my mom. I missed her in a horrible, constant way, but I was too afraid of my father to even ask to see more of her. I wasn't entirely miserable all the time I lived with my dad, but I was lonely and scared a lot. I had a life that seemed idyllic. Who wouldn't want to grow up in the Caribbean? Who wouldn't want to spend their days SCUBA diving, living in a tropical paradise, surrounded by Vervet monkeys, mangoes, and beaches? I had friends, and experiences that many people just dream about. I traveled throughout the Caribbean. But in my heart, I was one scared, lonely, sad, little kid. No one has ever been happier to go off to boarding school for high school. I left home when I was 14 and never went back.
Back to my mom. This is why I think she's the best person I've ever met. She has admitted, acknowledged, and apologized for every mistake she made, for letting me leave the country, for losing custody, for everything. Everyone makes mistakes. Even serious ones. It takes a strong, honest person to own up to those mistakes, and to offer restitution. I hope I can be a person like my mom.
Except for one brief, uncomfortable, unplanned encounter in Barnes and Noble in 2010, I haven't spoken to my father since 2000.
My father wasn't nice to me. When I think about him, and how he treated me, I pathologize and try to diagnose him. Something is wrong with him. Bipolar? Drug addict? Narcissistic Personality Disorder? Schizophrenic? Fucking insane? Yes. The last label always fits. He took a lot of my childhood, and ruined it. So many of my memories of childhood involve tears and screaming. Maybe someday I'll elaborate on the hell he put me through. Mostly though, it makes me too sad to share.
I got married in 2000. To a man who is, to this day, a close friend. He gave me strength, and when my father started one of his regular tirades about my flaws, faults, and general failings (real and imagined), I told him that I refused to be spoken to like this anymore. The end.
When I got pregnant, I knew my mom would play a huge role in my baby girl's life. I wondered if I was making a mistake by not patching things up with my father. I worried and fretted about it. Forgiveness is touted as the strongest, most soul-soothing action one can take. And when Gumball's dad left, I was so desperate for help that I considered calling my father. He would have helped me. For whatever his "help" is worth. I don't think he's an evil person, just deeply rotten, and sick. It was clear to me that I would never be able to leave my darling Gumball with my father. I could never knowingly put her at risk. The price for his help was too much for me.
The balm of forgiveness is not for me.
Will my inability to forgive keep me out of heaven? I try to eliminate bitterness and lies from my heart, but I won't sacrifice my daughter to achieve some sort of cosmic state of zen. Fuck that. I'm a mom now, and I can bear any burden. Cosmic peace is not for me, but I will do everything in my power to keep my Gumball safe, and happy.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
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.
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.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Gumball's Update
Nearly two and a half years old is a magical age. If I ignore the miserable sleeping, night wakings, and refusal to nap, that is. When not strung out from being over-tired, my little Gumball is such a delight. She talks, has opinions, makes jokes, and vigorously loves our poor cat, Pumpkin, thoroughly.
She occasionally wants me to call her "Betsey" after a girl in one of her Curious George books.
She pairs all toys and animals up into "mama and baby" sets. Including, but not limited to: mama and baby rocks, mama and baby pieces of string cheese, and mama and baby Curious George stuffed animals.
The other day, when she was eating toast, she held her bitten piece up to me, and said, "Look, Mama. A dog." And the bitten piece of toast actually looked exactly like a dog.
She has started coloring deliberately- eyes are one color, flowers are one color, and there are lots of circles. Recently she colored in many circles in different colors, and told me that they were "people's eyes."
Any doll with fake hair goes immediately into time out: in the sink, in one of her shoes, or on the other side of the gate. She shrieks when she sees that I've returned them to her toy bins, and giddily returns them to their time out locations.
Everything she says has a strong Boston accent.
Her favorite song of the moment is "Little Drummer Boy." Which she calls "So to Honor Him." I am hoping, fervently, that we aren't continuing to sing Christmas carols into the spring.
She thinks every box is a "pendent" (present) for her.
She still pronounces her own name as "Yaya."
She is starting to get good at hugging with her arms and kissing with her lips. As opposed to air kissing and air hugging. All while saying "huuuuuuuggggg" and "kiss."
My kid is awesome, and I can't imagine loving anyone more than I love her.
She occasionally wants me to call her "Betsey" after a girl in one of her Curious George books.
She pairs all toys and animals up into "mama and baby" sets. Including, but not limited to: mama and baby rocks, mama and baby pieces of string cheese, and mama and baby Curious George stuffed animals.
The other day, when she was eating toast, she held her bitten piece up to me, and said, "Look, Mama. A dog." And the bitten piece of toast actually looked exactly like a dog.
She has started coloring deliberately- eyes are one color, flowers are one color, and there are lots of circles. Recently she colored in many circles in different colors, and told me that they were "people's eyes."
Any doll with fake hair goes immediately into time out: in the sink, in one of her shoes, or on the other side of the gate. She shrieks when she sees that I've returned them to her toy bins, and giddily returns them to their time out locations.
Everything she says has a strong Boston accent.
Her favorite song of the moment is "Little Drummer Boy." Which she calls "So to Honor Him." I am hoping, fervently, that we aren't continuing to sing Christmas carols into the spring.
She thinks every box is a "pendent" (present) for her.
She still pronounces her own name as "Yaya."
She is starting to get good at hugging with her arms and kissing with her lips. As opposed to air kissing and air hugging. All while saying "huuuuuuuggggg" and "kiss."
My kid is awesome, and I can't imagine loving anyone more than I love her.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Gratitude
I've noticed many friends on Facebook posting daily gratitude status updates. Which, ordinarily, would be something that I would mock. Not so gently. Posting a daily status update about how lucky I am, and how awesome my life is, is just not my thing.
I have a lot to be grateful for this year, however.
It may not be a daily status update, but in honor of November, I am going to write 30 things/people/experiences that I am grateful for, in no particular order.
1. I am grateful for my little Gumball's dad. I still kind of want him to choke on a grape, but I recognize that without him, I would not have my precious baby. I am profoundly grateful for the good we experienced in our relationship, and for the gift he gave me in allowing me to have sole, uncontested custody of our child.
2. I am grateful for my mom. She saved my life when I thought I would never be happy again. She pushes me, challenges me, annoys me, and helps me constantly. The love I have for my mom and my daughter are the deepest, strongest loves anyone could ever experience.
3. I am grateful for my daughter. My sweet, tender, beautiful, smart, challenging, Gumball. I would do anything to protect her, and would gladly lay down my life to save hers. She is so sweet and loving, and I look forward to our future together.
A Gumball anecdote. She doesn't want to nap these days. I put her in her crib, and she plays. Sometimes for up to 2 hours. Then she starts whining. When she whines, I either bring her into bed with me, or just get her up, and forgo nap. Today, I brought her into bed with me. I cuddled with her for a few moments, and tried to encourage her to sleep by pretending to sleep. It didn't work. But she took the opportunity to gently stroke my face, and kiss me. It was incredibly sweet. Then she started licking my cheek, and I had to roll over. She then curled up against my back, and fell asleep. The sweetness of these moments makes my heart ache. Minus the cheek licking. Ick.
4. I am grateful for the heated seats in my awesome car.
5. I am grateful for my friends. The old friends, like Steph, Court, Sherl, Moon, Lori, Jeannie, Donna, and Miguel- who all managed to visit me in my new, remote home. Visits make my house feel like my own. Jen and Kirsten, who are so good at staying in touch, and who fill me with love, gossip, and delicious snack ideas.
And my new friends. Dia, who isn't new, Abbey, Emilie, and Clarina. They rebuilt me. With them, I experience joy. We laugh, eat, gossip, and parent. The support and love they give me has literally renewed my faith in people. They are so kind, irreverent, and generous. They make my unexpected and shame-filled return to VT worthwhile.
6. I am grateful to be able to stay home with my Gumball for so long, and not agonize about money.
7. I am grateful for the family that rents my unsellable house in MA. I never worry about my house with them living there.
8. I am grateful for my favorite foods and the ability to cook them.
9. I am grateful Obama was reelected.
10. I am grateful for my former mother in law. Gumball's paternal grandmother. She has been consistently present and positive in Gumball's life, which means the world to me. I love her dearly, and am especially grateful that she told me that Gumball's dad is now super fat. Yay!
11. I'm grateful November doesn't have 31 days.
12. I'm grateful for my loving kitty, Pumpkin. He has the patience of a saint with Gumball, and allows her to drape him with necklaces and blankets constantly.
13. I'm grateful for my own strength, resilience, and capacity to love and be happy again.
14. I'm grateful for warm slippers.
15. I'm grateful for frivolous interests, like nail polish.
16. I am grateful for my general good health. For my strong body.
17. I am profoundly grateful for every morning I wake up, and get to experience my life.
18. I am grateful for the new friends I have yet to meet, and the old friends who are no longer active in my life.
19. I am grateful for passion, love, sex, and dirty talk.
20. I am grateful for crusty bread and soft cheeses.
21. I am grateful for the many people who reached out to me when I was at my lowest: Kim, Meredith, Jen, Lori, Jeannie, Dia... and others. I am profoundly grateful to them.
(Is it sad that I think 21 may be the limit of my gratitude?)
Yeah, I'm done. For now anyhow.
I have a lot to be grateful for this year, however.
It may not be a daily status update, but in honor of November, I am going to write 30 things/people/experiences that I am grateful for, in no particular order.
1. I am grateful for my little Gumball's dad. I still kind of want him to choke on a grape, but I recognize that without him, I would not have my precious baby. I am profoundly grateful for the good we experienced in our relationship, and for the gift he gave me in allowing me to have sole, uncontested custody of our child.
2. I am grateful for my mom. She saved my life when I thought I would never be happy again. She pushes me, challenges me, annoys me, and helps me constantly. The love I have for my mom and my daughter are the deepest, strongest loves anyone could ever experience.
3. I am grateful for my daughter. My sweet, tender, beautiful, smart, challenging, Gumball. I would do anything to protect her, and would gladly lay down my life to save hers. She is so sweet and loving, and I look forward to our future together.
A Gumball anecdote. She doesn't want to nap these days. I put her in her crib, and she plays. Sometimes for up to 2 hours. Then she starts whining. When she whines, I either bring her into bed with me, or just get her up, and forgo nap. Today, I brought her into bed with me. I cuddled with her for a few moments, and tried to encourage her to sleep by pretending to sleep. It didn't work. But she took the opportunity to gently stroke my face, and kiss me. It was incredibly sweet. Then she started licking my cheek, and I had to roll over. She then curled up against my back, and fell asleep. The sweetness of these moments makes my heart ache. Minus the cheek licking. Ick.
4. I am grateful for the heated seats in my awesome car.
5. I am grateful for my friends. The old friends, like Steph, Court, Sherl, Moon, Lori, Jeannie, Donna, and Miguel- who all managed to visit me in my new, remote home. Visits make my house feel like my own. Jen and Kirsten, who are so good at staying in touch, and who fill me with love, gossip, and delicious snack ideas.
And my new friends. Dia, who isn't new, Abbey, Emilie, and Clarina. They rebuilt me. With them, I experience joy. We laugh, eat, gossip, and parent. The support and love they give me has literally renewed my faith in people. They are so kind, irreverent, and generous. They make my unexpected and shame-filled return to VT worthwhile.
6. I am grateful to be able to stay home with my Gumball for so long, and not agonize about money.
7. I am grateful for the family that rents my unsellable house in MA. I never worry about my house with them living there.
8. I am grateful for my favorite foods and the ability to cook them.
9. I am grateful Obama was reelected.
10. I am grateful for my former mother in law. Gumball's paternal grandmother. She has been consistently present and positive in Gumball's life, which means the world to me. I love her dearly, and am especially grateful that she told me that Gumball's dad is now super fat. Yay!
11. I'm grateful November doesn't have 31 days.
12. I'm grateful for my loving kitty, Pumpkin. He has the patience of a saint with Gumball, and allows her to drape him with necklaces and blankets constantly.
13. I'm grateful for my own strength, resilience, and capacity to love and be happy again.
14. I'm grateful for warm slippers.
15. I'm grateful for frivolous interests, like nail polish.
16. I am grateful for my general good health. For my strong body.
17. I am profoundly grateful for every morning I wake up, and get to experience my life.
18. I am grateful for the new friends I have yet to meet, and the old friends who are no longer active in my life.
19. I am grateful for passion, love, sex, and dirty talk.
20. I am grateful for crusty bread and soft cheeses.
21. I am grateful for the many people who reached out to me when I was at my lowest: Kim, Meredith, Jen, Lori, Jeannie, Dia... and others. I am profoundly grateful to them.
(Is it sad that I think 21 may be the limit of my gratitude?)
Yeah, I'm done. For now anyhow.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Duets
Ever since Gumball was a little, tiny chicklet, I've been singing Twinkle, Twinkle and then Rock-a-Bye Baby before putting her to bed. For the past couple of months, it's been a duet. Of sorts. In fact, she tries to sing over me and drown out my voice with her own. It's so sweet, and tender, and funny, that my heart melts.
Gumball is heart-meltingly sweet, and incredibly intelligent. She speaks in sentences, all the time, and I'm not the only person who can understand these sentences. She's also learned how to manipulate me into doing her bidding. It's pretty easy, as anyone who knows me can attest. Gumball will come up to me, and say, "hold me like a little, tiny baby." Who could refuse that? It gets a little tiresome sometimes, like when I have to carry her up and down the stairs "like a little, tiny baby." When she is completely capable of walking both up, and down, the stairs, on her own.
She's quite an independent, headstrong, willful little kid. If you were to tell her this, however, she would insist, "NO KID. I'm a monkey." Or, "I'm a kittycat." When I thank her for doing something well, and tell her, "What a smart girl, Gumball," she will say, "NO SMART GIRL. I'm a smart BABY."
This kid. I never imagined being so fascinated, enchanted and delighted by anything ever.
Gumball is heart-meltingly sweet, and incredibly intelligent. She speaks in sentences, all the time, and I'm not the only person who can understand these sentences. She's also learned how to manipulate me into doing her bidding. It's pretty easy, as anyone who knows me can attest. Gumball will come up to me, and say, "hold me like a little, tiny baby." Who could refuse that? It gets a little tiresome sometimes, like when I have to carry her up and down the stairs "like a little, tiny baby." When she is completely capable of walking both up, and down, the stairs, on her own.
She's quite an independent, headstrong, willful little kid. If you were to tell her this, however, she would insist, "NO KID. I'm a monkey." Or, "I'm a kittycat." When I thank her for doing something well, and tell her, "What a smart girl, Gumball," she will say, "NO SMART GIRL. I'm a smart BABY."
This kid. I never imagined being so fascinated, enchanted and delighted by anything ever.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Fashion Advice from a Toddler
Today, at breakfast, Gumball informed me that it looked like I was wearing a bib. "Mama wear a bib."
I was wearing this shirt:
Clearly, I am wearing a bib. Thanks, Gumball. They grow up so fast.
Gumball is so funny lately. Talking is a blast. Not everyone can understand her, but those who can, hear sentences. She says things like, "I don't want milk (pronounced "munkle" or "meeeeeaalk")." Today she placed her toys in her time out spot, and gave them all a time out. When I turn on music in the car, she sings louder. Before she goes to sleep at night (7pm, whatever) she likes to talk about what we did during the day. Or what she thinks we did during the day. She has an active imagination.
She loves Pumpkin, all monkeys, frogs ("hogs"), Clifford, and, of course, babies. She currently has: Binky Baby, Water Baby, Little Dada (x2), and Tiny Baby (x2). We aren't very creative about names. But she loves them all.
In other news, I've also started encouraging Gumball to help me. I give her little tasks, and she actually does them. She loves to throw away bits of trash, and put dirty clothes in the hamper. Today, Nana was asking me where she left her shoes, and Gumball ran to retrieve them. Smart, and a proficient eavesdropper.
I was wearing this shirt:
Gumball is so funny lately. Talking is a blast. Not everyone can understand her, but those who can, hear sentences. She says things like, "I don't want milk (pronounced "munkle" or "meeeeeaalk")." Today she placed her toys in her time out spot, and gave them all a time out. When I turn on music in the car, she sings louder. Before she goes to sleep at night (7pm, whatever) she likes to talk about what we did during the day. Or what she thinks we did during the day. She has an active imagination.
She loves Pumpkin, all monkeys, frogs ("hogs"), Clifford, and, of course, babies. She currently has: Binky Baby, Water Baby, Little Dada (x2), and Tiny Baby (x2). We aren't very creative about names. But she loves them all.
In other news, I've also started encouraging Gumball to help me. I give her little tasks, and she actually does them. She loves to throw away bits of trash, and put dirty clothes in the hamper. Today, Nana was asking me where she left her shoes, and Gumball ran to retrieve them. Smart, and a proficient eavesdropper.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Love
I thought I would never again have the luxury of falling in love. To be happy, moderately well-rested, semi anxiety free, and falling deeply in love in perfectly beautiful Vermont summer weather is awe-inspiring and wonderful. "Wonderful" in the real sense of the word, as in full of wonder, and not just a pleasant, and positive emotion. It is new, delicate, tender and intense. And of course, terrifying.
I still feel like I'm holding back. Having so recently been so broken-hearted that I thought I'd never be able to love anyone other than my dear friends and lovely Gumball, this fresh bloom of emotion makes me experience crazy extremes: love, fear, anger, joy, tenderness and sullen confusion. I often think that E. deserves more. More fun, more careless laughter, more unguarded affection. Less toddler-manipulated scheduling, fewer play dates, dinners later than 5:30pm.
She is so sweet to me, and kind. Lovely and generous. Gentle, sweet, thoughtful. Even better, she is unbelievably kind to my Gumball. Talks to her, plays with her, is loving and affectionate to her, and spends as much time as I do hunting down Monkey, and Baby. Every single time she offers Gumball her water, or gives her a bite of muffin ("mutton"), or tries to make her laugh, my heart melts. Melts.
I still feel like I'm holding back. Having so recently been so broken-hearted that I thought I'd never be able to love anyone other than my dear friends and lovely Gumball, this fresh bloom of emotion makes me experience crazy extremes: love, fear, anger, joy, tenderness and sullen confusion. I often think that E. deserves more. More fun, more careless laughter, more unguarded affection. Less toddler-manipulated scheduling, fewer play dates, dinners later than 5:30pm.
She is so sweet to me, and kind. Lovely and generous. Gentle, sweet, thoughtful. Even better, she is unbelievably kind to my Gumball. Talks to her, plays with her, is loving and affectionate to her, and spends as much time as I do hunting down Monkey, and Baby. Every single time she offers Gumball her water, or gives her a bite of muffin ("mutton"), or tries to make her laugh, my heart melts. Melts.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Sunny Days
- We went to the lake, where Gumball got to splash in the waves, eat a grape popsicle, and nap in the car.
- We played, alone and with friends, at our water table. Gumball LOVES it. Monkey loves it less, as he is often the unsuspecting victim of multiple "kabushkas" (the sound we make when dumping water on someone's head.)
- Her love of the water isn't limited to the water table, however. Bath time is also a lot of fun!
- We also went with our friends to Santa's Village. It was a really fun trip, and Gumball and her friends got to go on the slowest, safest rides on earth, pet (or shake with terror over) reindeer, visit a petting zoo (goats!), and play in the pool.
- Gumball is also a huge fan of the park. She occasionally goes into the "big girl swing" and I spend the entire time pushing her reminding her to "hold on with your hands." She likes to swing and sing, which is adorable.
And being silly. Gumball is quite a ham.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Beautiful
One of my dearest friends is almost 80. She was my neighbor in Massachusetts. A kind, thoughtful, generous person. And incredibly feisty. When I was getting my Master's degree, I would come home to find a homemade chicken pot pie on my doorstep. She was the sort of neighbor who turned into family. In a good way. When I moved to Vermont, she came with me and helped me for 2 weeks. She constantly sends Gumball gifts, and is truly one of my best friends.
Her kindness is not to be confused with being passive. She's far from passive. She's a matriarch, and has opinions and judgements about everything. When we go shopping, she occasionally takes things out of unattended carts.
Today I told her about my date. I knew already that she's a big supporter of gay rights; but I wasn't so sure how she'd react to me having a date with a woman. Her response was so joyful and uplifting to me. She said that she just hopes that I meet someone who loves me and treats me well. And that it doesn't matter to her if it's a man or a woman.
All this from a woman who grew up cleaning houses when she was a kid, never having new shoes or clothing, who never went to college, and who has lived her whole life in a small town outside of Boston. I expected so little, and was treated to a beautiful gift.
And I am really looking forward to my next date with E on Saturday.
Her kindness is not to be confused with being passive. She's far from passive. She's a matriarch, and has opinions and judgements about everything. When we go shopping, she occasionally takes things out of unattended carts.
Today I told her about my date. I knew already that she's a big supporter of gay rights; but I wasn't so sure how she'd react to me having a date with a woman. Her response was so joyful and uplifting to me. She said that she just hopes that I meet someone who loves me and treats me well. And that it doesn't matter to her if it's a man or a woman.
All this from a woman who grew up cleaning houses when she was a kid, never having new shoes or clothing, who never went to college, and who has lived her whole life in a small town outside of Boston. I expected so little, and was treated to a beautiful gift.
And I am really looking forward to my next date with E on Saturday.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Lucky
There's no question that I've been very unlucky in love. I've made choices that have nearly killed me; gone all-in on bets that just didn't pan out. I believed my heart, and the empty words I heard, when I should have paid attention to the actions I observed. I wanted a family so badly that I would have done anything to have one. Lots of mistakes, but one delightful outcome. My little Gumball.
One thing, however, is true. I am extraordinarily lucky to have my friends. I might not be the best at choosing partners, but I _am_ generally very good at picking friends. I am constantly grateful to my oldest friend, for her love and support. She offered me a lifeline when I most needed one, and is so smart, generous and perceptive. And funny as could be. I just can't mention friends without mentioning her. And my newest friends... such lovely, beautiful people. On the inside and out.
Seriously, I have the best friends ever. I went to my dear friend's baby shower, and got to see some of my core ladies. I left Gumball with my mom, and spent 3 days and 2 nights with my friends. I never thought this would happen. Don't misunderstand me. My mom is a huge help. But she gets stir crazy after watching the baby for an hour. Not to mention that my little Gumball is a firecracker, and a handful. But- Nana to the rescue! Nana in charge! I hopped on a plane and spent time with some of the most amazing women around.
The trip might sound less than thrilling to anyone who doesn't spend 18 hours a day alone, or with a toddler. To me, it was invigorating, rejuvenating, and so much fun. We went shopping. I got new bras, after 18 months of breastfeeding! First new bras in over 5 years. Wahoo! I ate in a restaurant and didn't have to cut up anyone's food! I had a beer with my meals! I stayed up late talking, and slept in (sort of)! I didn't have to wipe any butts, other than my own! I saw a play! I finished (most of) my sentences!
The true pleasure, for me, was twofold. I didn't have to think out every second of my day, and plan and worry about everything. The burden of worry and the pressure to do the best I can, is often crushing. But- more importantly, I got to be with my ladies. Being with people who care about me, talking to these smart, fun, generous, thoughtful women was such a blast. Celebrating their pregnancies meant so much to me. Hearing about their lives and jobs and husbands and kids was wonderful. Their happiness makes me happy.
To be completely honest, I did have a few moments when I felt sad. One of the ladies wasn't able to come. She was missed. Her absence was strongly felt, and I just kept expecting to see her in the next room. I really wish she had been able to come. The other nagging pangs I felt were fleeting, and minor, little threads of humiliation and jealousy. The last time I saw these women, was right after I got married, at my dear friend's wedding. I was pregnant and so happy and in love. Full of life, love, and hope. Emotionally, I'm just a fragment of that person now. And jealousy. I'm jealous of anyone who goes home to loving arms. I miss that. It's ok though. I'd rather be alone with my sweet Gumball, than unhappily married.
One thing, however, is true. I am extraordinarily lucky to have my friends. I might not be the best at choosing partners, but I _am_ generally very good at picking friends. I am constantly grateful to my oldest friend, for her love and support. She offered me a lifeline when I most needed one, and is so smart, generous and perceptive. And funny as could be. I just can't mention friends without mentioning her. And my newest friends... such lovely, beautiful people. On the inside and out.
Seriously, I have the best friends ever. I went to my dear friend's baby shower, and got to see some of my core ladies. I left Gumball with my mom, and spent 3 days and 2 nights with my friends. I never thought this would happen. Don't misunderstand me. My mom is a huge help. But she gets stir crazy after watching the baby for an hour. Not to mention that my little Gumball is a firecracker, and a handful. But- Nana to the rescue! Nana in charge! I hopped on a plane and spent time with some of the most amazing women around.
The trip might sound less than thrilling to anyone who doesn't spend 18 hours a day alone, or with a toddler. To me, it was invigorating, rejuvenating, and so much fun. We went shopping. I got new bras, after 18 months of breastfeeding! First new bras in over 5 years. Wahoo! I ate in a restaurant and didn't have to cut up anyone's food! I had a beer with my meals! I stayed up late talking, and slept in (sort of)! I didn't have to wipe any butts, other than my own! I saw a play! I finished (most of) my sentences!
The true pleasure, for me, was twofold. I didn't have to think out every second of my day, and plan and worry about everything. The burden of worry and the pressure to do the best I can, is often crushing. But- more importantly, I got to be with my ladies. Being with people who care about me, talking to these smart, fun, generous, thoughtful women was such a blast. Celebrating their pregnancies meant so much to me. Hearing about their lives and jobs and husbands and kids was wonderful. Their happiness makes me happy.
To be completely honest, I did have a few moments when I felt sad. One of the ladies wasn't able to come. She was missed. Her absence was strongly felt, and I just kept expecting to see her in the next room. I really wish she had been able to come. The other nagging pangs I felt were fleeting, and minor, little threads of humiliation and jealousy. The last time I saw these women, was right after I got married, at my dear friend's wedding. I was pregnant and so happy and in love. Full of life, love, and hope. Emotionally, I'm just a fragment of that person now. And jealousy. I'm jealous of anyone who goes home to loving arms. I miss that. It's ok though. I'd rather be alone with my sweet Gumball, than unhappily married.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Swim Girls
I love the Swim Girls, and also the little swimmers.
Let me explain.
Gumball and I have been doing a Parent and Me "swim" class since we moved here. Session after session. She was six months old when we started the class. A tiny, little, giant peanut. The class isn't swim training, exactly. Not in the way I envisioned swim training. Not yet anyhow. Mostly, we move around in the pool, splash and sing. We sing the Hokey Pokey, Grand Old Duke of York, etc. Lately, we've even tried dunking the kids under water. Except for the dunking, the kids adore every moment. They tolerate the dunking though. Not like they exactly have a say in the matter. The teacher is terrific too- funny, kind and as neurotic as the rest of us. A lovely person. Despite the indignity of getting my winter-white cellulite into a bathing suit, and parading around, wet and cold while I quickly dress Gumball, I love the class. And even more than the class itself, I love the other women who attend the class.
These women, and their kids, are indescribably awesome. Fun, smart, thoughtful, generous, beautiful, hilarious, and great moms. Really. Their kids (our kids?) are all geniuses, each one totally gorgeous and sweet and kind. Gumball and I are so lucky to have these people in our lives. It is an incredible pleasure to spend time with these adults and kids.
Today, we were in-between swimming sessions. So we went to a local aquarium. Almost all native fish, frogs, turtles, and plants. The kids had a blast. Gumball was so excited to see her best friend, M, that she screamed and shouted and ran around, falling and shrieking, like a little drunk party girl. These girls love each other, even though they rarely directly interact. It is hilarious and adorable to see them together.
It was a great day. Even though Gumball napped in the car on the way home, and then pooped 3 separate times during her "nap" which essentially ensured that she slept not a wink. And even though I didn't get my much-needed afternoon nap, and gave Gumball a fried egg for dinner (along with her regular foods.) A terrific day.
Let me explain.
Gumball and I have been doing a Parent and Me "swim" class since we moved here. Session after session. She was six months old when we started the class. A tiny, little, giant peanut. The class isn't swim training, exactly. Not in the way I envisioned swim training. Not yet anyhow. Mostly, we move around in the pool, splash and sing. We sing the Hokey Pokey, Grand Old Duke of York, etc. Lately, we've even tried dunking the kids under water. Except for the dunking, the kids adore every moment. They tolerate the dunking though. Not like they exactly have a say in the matter. The teacher is terrific too- funny, kind and as neurotic as the rest of us. A lovely person. Despite the indignity of getting my winter-white cellulite into a bathing suit, and parading around, wet and cold while I quickly dress Gumball, I love the class. And even more than the class itself, I love the other women who attend the class.
These women, and their kids, are indescribably awesome. Fun, smart, thoughtful, generous, beautiful, hilarious, and great moms. Really. Their kids (our kids?) are all geniuses, each one totally gorgeous and sweet and kind. Gumball and I are so lucky to have these people in our lives. It is an incredible pleasure to spend time with these adults and kids.
Today, we were in-between swimming sessions. So we went to a local aquarium. Almost all native fish, frogs, turtles, and plants. The kids had a blast. Gumball was so excited to see her best friend, M, that she screamed and shouted and ran around, falling and shrieking, like a little drunk party girl. These girls love each other, even though they rarely directly interact. It is hilarious and adorable to see them together.
It was a great day. Even though Gumball napped in the car on the way home, and then pooped 3 separate times during her "nap" which essentially ensured that she slept not a wink. And even though I didn't get my much-needed afternoon nap, and gave Gumball a fried egg for dinner (along with her regular foods.) A terrific day.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Poop
How many times can my child poop in order to interrupt sleep? In one day, I mean.
Just guess.
No, really. I mean it. Guess.
FOUR. 4. Yes, FOUR times. Plus, one non-sleep associated poop. WTH child? Hmmm...
In other news, Gumball loves prime rib. Christmas? Not so much. She likes opening her new tool box, and removing the tools, and then placing them directly where I might step. She also really enjoys rolling her new shopping cart around. Other than that- she hates her new babydolls, and other new gifts. So much so, that she's become reinvested in previously ignored birthday gifts. Gifts that she's played with twice in the past four months. She also really, really likes placing her shoes onto her toes. Just sort of propping them up. Ridiculous. Love her so much.
Just guess.
No, really. I mean it. Guess.
FOUR. 4. Yes, FOUR times. Plus, one non-sleep associated poop. WTH child? Hmmm...
In other news, Gumball loves prime rib. Christmas? Not so much. She likes opening her new tool box, and removing the tools, and then placing them directly where I might step. She also really enjoys rolling her new shopping cart around. Other than that- she hates her new babydolls, and other new gifts. So much so, that she's become reinvested in previously ignored birthday gifts. Gifts that she's played with twice in the past four months. She also really, really likes placing her shoes onto her toes. Just sort of propping them up. Ridiculous. Love her so much.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Going Public
I think I am going to bite the bullet.
And share the link to my blog with my friends. I've linked to a few blogs my friends write. But not all the blogs I link to are written by friends. This sounds like one of those weird SAT questions. Conditional statements. Yuck.
Anyhow, one of my friends found the blog this way. (_Waving and grinning_ shouts "Hi S!!! HI HI HI.") And my new friend, A, found it too. HI HI HI! Hope you don't mind being written about! You're awesome, especially for looking away when I teared up. I'm so glad we met! When is Zumba going to make me skinny?
I know there's a lot of personal stuff here. Its probably self-indulgent drivel, so indulge me. It makes me feel better to write it down. I spend a lot of time alone, and I don't love chatting on the phone. I don't cry when I write. Indulge me please, and don't judge me too harshly. I'm pretty sure I've spent most of the past 13 months wondering how in the fuck I could ever have been so stupid. I kind of know how I got here, if that makes any difference. I wanted a family, a big one. Stepsons lured me in. And I loved R so much. And I wanted my own baby, and a big family more than anything else in the world. So here I am.
I also hesitate to share this bc I don't want to make anyone feel bad. I got myself into this mess. I have to get myself out of it. Lots and lots of people have helped me. Lots have made me smile and laugh, and have kept me going, even when I could barely put one foot in front of another. I am an ingrate, and should be writing long, in depth odes to the friends who saved me. Did I ever mention that D and S wrote me almost every single day for months? Enduring my insane questions about how to actually bathe the baby (it took me 4 weeks to get up the courage. Don't judge. I bathe her plenty now.) And D promised me friendship and company if I left my entire life and moved back to VT- and she's made good on her offer, introducing me to friends, involving me in her life. I am so grateful. Did I mention that my dear friend J battles stage 2 breast cancer, enduring months of chemo, and daily radiation, and still manages to call, text and regularly check in to see how I am doing. I could hang my head in shame, bc she is such an inspiration. Hee hee, if she reads this, she will be furious with me for calling her an inspiration. And S and S, both who have busy jobs and kids, but visited me and called me, and texted... I owe them too. C stayed at my house many nights, when I was so scared and depressed that I couldn't breathe, let alone sleep. She gave me a reprieve from constant anxiety and fear. And I am so grateful to my mom. I can't even say everything she has done. Words aren't sufficient. She saved my life. All the women I know called, and wrote, and sent gifts to Gumball, and made me feel loved. I owe my life to my friends, and my daughter. And I hesitate to share this bc I don't want to forget anyone or make anyone feel bad. I am so grateful to all of you. You have no idea.
Well, I am crying now. So grateful. I'm come so far, and still have so far to go. I may not be the best judge in (second) husbands, but I have the best, kindest, smartest, most loving, most beautiful friends in the entire world. I love you all so much.
And share the link to my blog with my friends. I've linked to a few blogs my friends write. But not all the blogs I link to are written by friends. This sounds like one of those weird SAT questions. Conditional statements. Yuck.
Anyhow, one of my friends found the blog this way. (_Waving and grinning_ shouts "Hi S!!! HI HI HI.") And my new friend, A, found it too. HI HI HI! Hope you don't mind being written about! You're awesome, especially for looking away when I teared up. I'm so glad we met! When is Zumba going to make me skinny?
I know there's a lot of personal stuff here. Its probably self-indulgent drivel, so indulge me. It makes me feel better to write it down. I spend a lot of time alone, and I don't love chatting on the phone. I don't cry when I write. Indulge me please, and don't judge me too harshly. I'm pretty sure I've spent most of the past 13 months wondering how in the fuck I could ever have been so stupid. I kind of know how I got here, if that makes any difference. I wanted a family, a big one. Stepsons lured me in. And I loved R so much. And I wanted my own baby, and a big family more than anything else in the world. So here I am.
I also hesitate to share this bc I don't want to make anyone feel bad. I got myself into this mess. I have to get myself out of it. Lots and lots of people have helped me. Lots have made me smile and laugh, and have kept me going, even when I could barely put one foot in front of another. I am an ingrate, and should be writing long, in depth odes to the friends who saved me. Did I ever mention that D and S wrote me almost every single day for months? Enduring my insane questions about how to actually bathe the baby (it took me 4 weeks to get up the courage. Don't judge. I bathe her plenty now.) And D promised me friendship and company if I left my entire life and moved back to VT- and she's made good on her offer, introducing me to friends, involving me in her life. I am so grateful. Did I mention that my dear friend J battles stage 2 breast cancer, enduring months of chemo, and daily radiation, and still manages to call, text and regularly check in to see how I am doing. I could hang my head in shame, bc she is such an inspiration. Hee hee, if she reads this, she will be furious with me for calling her an inspiration. And S and S, both who have busy jobs and kids, but visited me and called me, and texted... I owe them too. C stayed at my house many nights, when I was so scared and depressed that I couldn't breathe, let alone sleep. She gave me a reprieve from constant anxiety and fear. And I am so grateful to my mom. I can't even say everything she has done. Words aren't sufficient. She saved my life. All the women I know called, and wrote, and sent gifts to Gumball, and made me feel loved. I owe my life to my friends, and my daughter. And I hesitate to share this bc I don't want to forget anyone or make anyone feel bad. I am so grateful to all of you. You have no idea.
Well, I am crying now. So grateful. I'm come so far, and still have so far to go. I may not be the best judge in (second) husbands, but I have the best, kindest, smartest, most loving, most beautiful friends in the entire world. I love you all so much.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Updates: Zumba and Divorce
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.
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.
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.
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