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.

What She Ate

I can't remember a lot of things: hard and fast rules of capitalization, birthdays, epidemiology, what I was going to say next... but I do remember what I ate. I have a semi-photographic memory for what I ate. I remember the night after my first wedding/engagement party, we went to an Italian restaurant, and I had this steak with paté, cheese and tomato sauce on it. At the wedding/engagement party, I ate meatballs. This was in 2000. I remember what I ate when I turned 20. Olive Garden, cannolini. I guess I remember meals associated with special events. When I turned 35, R and I went out to dinner with some of my closest friends, D and L. We went to my favorite fancy restaurant: L'espalier. We did a tasting meal, and I didn't like anything. The foam tasted like beer. I was pregnant, and I didn't know it. Food was gross for a good 6 months.

Last night, I had a very sad dream about R. I dreamed I went to see him, and he ignored me. He and his_ whatever she is_ ignored me, and laughed at it. I was so sad when I woke up. I miss him. We could have been so happy together.

At breakfast, I had a piece and a half of cheese toast: gruyere on multigrain. Gumball had 1/2 a piece. Then mom came over. Gumball was delighted. We went to a local harvest festival. Lots of lawn sales and people with dogs. I've never seen so many dogs at an outing. Gumball is in love with dogs these days. Whenever she sees one, she goes "OG!!! Uff uff uff." She said that about 100 times today. Except when she was demanding I give her a felt ball. Then she said "DAAAAAAAAH!!!!" I bought the ball immediately, and nana was able to hide it before Gumball dropped it, or gave it to an Og. And I bought her something else, something totally awesome. I am so excited! I got her this: OMG OMG THIS THIS!!!!! It was $35. It's not identical to this- it has plastic mane, and no motion activated sounds. Thank goodness. I am overjoyed. I wish I could ride it. I ate a piece of spanikopita. It was so-so.

Then we came home, and we napped. And when we woke, we went to E & P's house. Their son, L, is just a month older than Gumball. Our other friends were there already. I brought hamburger, cheese, bread and cupcakes. We had a lovely dinner. I am so lucky to know these people. Everyday, when I am not alone, when Gumball and I laugh and talk and spend time with friends and my mom, I am so grateful. I am anxious about winter coming, scared that this winter will be a repeat of last. I know that is improbable. I am not going to be alone, every day, depressed, terrified, exhausted, insane. I am not going to lose 40 lbs in 2 months, and cry daily. I wish I could lose the 40 lbs though. I am not going to cry daily. Just when I watch any TV that has anything to do with babies. I have friends with babies here, and my mom, and I am going to be happy again. Today was a wonderful start.

Today

Today I am feeling pessimistic. I had fun guests. My plumber from Massachusetts who fixed my entire house- not just plumbing, pretty much out of the kindness of his big heart. And his wife. I invited them to come and visit. It was nice to have guests, nice to have people to watch TV with, nice to have a big family dinner. And nice, sort of, to have the house to myself again.

I'm tired. It's been about a week since I've had a normal night's sleep. 6 hours, interrupted, a night, is not enough for me now. It makes me feel pessimistic. Old and tired. Baby is teething, and she is very excited about standing, and bouncing in her crib. I love watching on the monitor, but live in fear that she will toss Kitty, and I'll have to run up and rescue him. I don't think she can sleep without him. She's getting very willful. And attached to things. Like her ball (actually any ball, and sometimes balls. Or DAAAAAAAHHHHH! As she likes to say.) And her baby dolls. "Dada" and little "Dada."

I contacted a couple of old flings. Guys I had some casual dates with. Did I mention that before? It was for the ego boost. One lives in CT, the other in MA. It was a good ego boost, more or less. They remembered me, were glad I wrote, offered- vaguely- to come visit me. I remembered why I liked R more than I liked either of them.

Gumball's nanny is having an elective surgery on October 4th. Which means she'll possibly be out of work for 2 weeks. And I will have to miss 4 of my 12 Zumba classes. I'm so tired, and lonely, and this really bums me out. I fully admit that I am entirely selfish. That's also a lot of days with no help. My mom will come over for an hour or 2, but that's not much when I feel tired.

And winter is coming. I hate winter. I hate cold. I really feel like I am starting to get more depressed, and want to be on meds again, but am so reluctant to stop breastfeeding Baby. She may very well be my only child, and I'm not ready to stop nursing her. And when I'm exhausted, I can curl up in bed with her and she will happily nurse for 30 minutes- and I get a little rest. It's not much, but it provides a real relief some days. And I love the bond we have, through breastfeeding. I've been so lucky to have been able to do it. I just wish I was on meds too. And yes, I know some psych meds are compatible with breastfeeding. I am not comfortable with the long term consequences of breastfeeding while taking psych meds. Also, my preferred med is not safe while breastfeeding.

Maybe I'll get a sun replacement lamp or something.

Gumball's Words

Gumball is getting quite chatty these days. She says the following:
Knee- "kneeeeeeeee"
Dog- "Og"
Kitty- "Eee-eee"
Ball- "Daaaaaaaah!" (always extremely loud and excited)
Baby- "Dayday"
Duck- "duck"
Snack- "mum mum" (she thinks any puff or cracker or cookie is a mum mum.)

She also knows what sounds the following animals make:
Dog- "uh uh" (with lips pursed)
Cat- "maow maow" (sometimes this turns into "mommy mommy" which is funny bc I think that's what Pumpkin- our cat- is saying too.)
Cow- "moo moo"
Sheep "ma ma"
Fish- "___" (opens and closes her mouth)

I know. She's a genius. She finally started self feeding too! At 13 months. Prior to this event, she would put mum mums, McDonald's french fries, and baby cheese puffs into her mouth. Now she will also insert strawberries (cut up into 800 pieces), cheese, turkey, lamb, steak, sweet potato, toast, waffle... and probably other things too. Baby likes meat, which seems sort of funny, in someone who only has 6 teeth.

And her teeth. She has top and bottom incisors. And then the next tooth, on the left side, top and bottom. It looks funny, but don't tell her that.

She is loving music and has started "dancing" a little. Dancing involves moving her butt up and down, as far as I can tell.

She's also started waking between 4:30 and 5am, which is super annoying. I change and nurse her, and she goes back to sleep with little fussing. I wish she would cut it out though.

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.

All the (not so) Juicy Details

Reflecting on my two marriages and romantic life in general has caused me to wonder: am I ever going to have sex again?

If reading about my (boring) thoughts and concerns about sex is officially TMI, please skip this entry. Truthfully, I'm not going to share anything particularly lurid. I'm shy. Then again, after years of working providing STD counseling and partner services, my idea of "particularly lurid" might not be the same as yours. Probably not. That said' I'm going to be brief and chaste. Someday Gumball will be able to read, and the last thing I want her to be subjected to is the idea of her Mama having a sex life. (Believe me, Gumball, Mama never had sex.)

I miss having a loving, warm, physical relationship. I was so sick, and then so huge and heavy and gross that I really didn't feel that sexual while pregnant. Consequently, I think it has been approximately one year and nine months. And this dry spell has absolutely no end in sight. I'm someone's MOM now. How could I possibly date? I can't even imagine the logistics of it. Not to mention that this situation has left me feeling old and bitter. Old, bitter, and with not much to bring to a relationship. I know now isn't the time. A friend's therapist told her to expect to mourn for one month for each year she was together with her soon-to-be ex-husband. I've been mourning for a year and still am not done yet. Definitely not ready to start thinking about a new relationship yet. Which brings me back to the question- when will I have sex again? Probably not for a very long time. In fact, by the time I have sex again, it will have probably changed in such fundamental ways that I will no longer know what I'm doing. Geez.

I really miss it though.

Triumphant Return!

I just signed up for 12 Zumba classes.

Is this my triumphant return? Or is it like the feathers I just got put into my hair? Passé and outmoded? Am I a Kate Gosselin wannabe?

Anyhow, I am hoping these 12 classes magically transform me into... less fat.