Whatever Will Be

I was snooping on Facebook, and found out that my son's father is dating someone who is friends with my cousin.

Small world, eh?

This would be fine if he were involved with his son at all, or even was telling people that he has a son. As it stands, we stopped talking while I was pregnant and he pretends we don't exist...I rather enjoy that arrangement.

So I freak out (like an idiot) and call my cousin, asking her to just please take down photos of my son and I, because it makes me uncomfortable that she's friends with someone. She demands to know who it is, and I stupidly tell her.

Now I have to worry that she's going to go tell this woman her boyfriend has a son, and she is going to push him to be involved. I know most women would say that's a good thing, for a man to be held accountable. I'm not of that mindset. He wanted me to get an abortion, I went against his wishes and had the baby. He was intimidating and threatened to take my child, stressed me out and belittled me, has a history of drunk driving, smoking pot, trespassing, hit-and-runs, the list goes on...

He's not a good role model for my son. And though I wouldn't be terrible to him, or try to keep him from being involved, the LAST thing that I want to do is do anything to invite him into our lives.

The truth is, I don't want to see my son spending his whole life in different households, going back and forth between parents. I have been there, and I know how unstable and disruptive it all is. Obviously, I really should have thought more about that before I got pregnant, but there sure isn't anything I can do to fix that now.

If my son's father is around, I want it to be of his own accord. I want him to show that he has intentions of really being there for our son. I didn't want to push him to be involved, and I don't want anyone else to...being a parent is a decision people should make for themselves. I want to know that he is serious about being a good parent before he has any opportunity to hurt the boy.....much the same as it would be if I were to ever date someone new. My son is 100% innocent in all of this, and it breaks my heart to think of how my past mistakes could hurt him, or disrupt his stability.

I'm just afraid. I know someday, I will likely have to deal with that man again....and I can't count on him being mature, or putting my child's best interest first.

I wish I could find the strength to be at peace with the fact that what he does is completely out of my hands.

But Now And Then I Wonder

So, things are getting better.

I spend less time with her, and it's helping. I can be logical about the situation most of the time. I try hard to be supportive of her relationship, and see it as a positive part of her lie.

When I am with her, I just find myself amused (and more than slightly annoyed) by how much I love her, and want her still. But I'm finding different ways to handle it, and I'm done with putting myself down for having these feelings. I'm done with hiding my feelings, and I'm trying to deal with them in a more logical way.

I'm not afraid of being honest with her about my feelings, because I'm not telling myself I'm pathetic or below her just because she doesn't want to be with me instead of with him. I do love her enough to really try to be her friend, and be completely open and honest.

Even though I feel like I have a much better handle on all this, I have moments of incredible weakness. Mostly, I love her. But sometimes she looks so beautiful...or so fucking sexy that I can't help wanting to do very bad things. I massage her back, and I'm turned on...I can hardly control the urge to touch my lips to the small of her back, to pull her hair, kiss her neck, whisper something terribly dirty in her ear. The sexual chemistry between us is breathtaking, and we are always suggestive...it's intense, it's exciting, and it's infuriating.

Listening to her talk about things in her life...her marriage, her other relationships, her friendships...I know that nothing I could say would impress her. Many people have loved her. Many people have wanted her. Many people have thought that they had something special with her, and she has probably heard it all.

I can't help but honestly wonder...why haven't people wanted me like that? Why have I only had one real relationship? Why don't I have at least one story of someone who thought that we were "soul mates"? Why am I the one who's always chasing after someone?

Wondering if these are questions I could reasonably answer for myself.

When We Were Young

I talked to her about our past, today.

We talked about the night we watched fireworks together. I was maybe fifteen, she was maybe sixteen. We laid on the grass, our fingers barely touching, stroking. It was electric. No one knew anything was going on, but for both of us it was unforgettable. It was the first time I had felt anything like it. To this day, I've only experienced something similar with one other person. She remembers the intensity too...and realizing, to our amazement, that someone could barely touch you somewhere, and you could feel it everywhere.

We talked about the first time we kissed. I was twenty-one, she was twenty-two. We were on my mom's front porch, and I was intoxicated by the way she was looking at me. Before I could stop myself, I kissed her...and before I could process what was happening, her mouth was on my neck. She had me pressed against the wall, and all I could do was marvel at the fact that I was so...done. I wanted her. She had me. I would have followed her anywhere that night.
She remembers exactly what she was wearing, and exactly the way it felt. She told me it's funny how the important moments in your life are just frozen like that, in perfect detail.

I feel that way about her, to this day...there is still that passion, the excitement, the crazy devotion. When I see her signed into facebook, I feel this sudden...arousal, I guess is the term. The shape of her name, typed out like that...the simple beauty of it elicits an immediate emotional and physical reaction. When she and I get in the car together, I feel like we could quite literally go anywhere...like I want to keep driving. When she sings along to the radio, our kids in the back seat...I feel such a sweet, calm peace. Happiness.

I know she's not mine. I know it's no use.

So...what is this all for?

Realizing Myself

It doesn't make me sick to see her and her boyfriend posting on facebook anymore.
It doesn't make me feel like I can't breathe. It doesn't make me dizzy.

It just makes me sad. It's just this...dull ache. Makes me feel empty.

It's progress. Not much, but a little. And I'm grateful for it.

I have backed off a lot. I have only seen her a few times in the past three weeks. I have stopped volunteering to do everything for her, because I can't stand wondering if she only keeps me around because I will watch her kids, or clean her house, or bring her dinner.

When I talk about the things that I do for her, people think she's a bitch for not appreciating or loving me. It was the same with my other ex. But it's me, really. I go out of my way to put other people first, and it keeps them from being able to respect me...it keeps them in control. I just hand over my power. Honestly, I get satisfaction from it...for some reason, knowing that I am giving someone else everything, or putting their needs and desires before mine, gives me a sense of accomplishment. It gives me ammunition for a guilt trip. I hate to admit that, but it's true...I try not to guilt trip, but it's definitely in my nature.

Feeling sorry for myself because I do everything for someone, and still don't get what I need or want from them, is also in my nature.

I don't like this about myself. But it's typical behavior for us caregiver types. I'm trying really hard to change this. I know that it has served me in the past, because I allowed myself to use self-sacrifice to define my sense of self-worth. But I don't want to go on degrading myself.

If I treat myself like I don't matter, how can I be surprised when other people treat me that way?

So I try to remember; that's not me. That's just a behavior pattern. That's just how I feed my ego. That's how I keep myself believing I know who I am. Repeating patterns is safe, even when they're not good for me. I know I have not been honoring myself...my real, true self. I have not been loving myself. I have not even REALIZED myself.

The more I do realize myself, and understand the motivations behind my actions, the more I'm able to change my story. When I am able to recognize that I am not my thoughts, and I am not my feelings, I'm able to control them a little better.

I suppose that's why she can talk about being with him without me feeling like I've been punched in the throat.

But I do know that it still hurts. I do know that I can't see her without wanting her. I do know that every time I have to leave her, I feel deeply unsatisfied...I feel so much longing.

It's a struggle. But I can't keep repeating this same story. I can't keep giving people power over me. I have to be better to myself than that...even when it means distancing myself from someone who makes me feel incredible passion.

Love is love...and if I can be in love with her, then I can find a way to simply love her. In time. With practice. With presence of mind. With self awareness. Eventually, I assume, I will get it down.

When You Think You've Got It Down

One day, only a week or so ago, really, I decided I would be over it.

I stopped hiding them on facebook. I told myself that I would just control it. I felt very powerful that day, like I had just finally figured it all out.

I am shown how wrong I was, every time I see her.

The more I act like I am not hurting, the more she goes back to acting like we've never been more than friends. And it's all coming at me too fast. I expect to feel these things. I stand in waiting, expecting to take a blow. It comes. I can always count on that. But it's not just one, and while I'm breathing through one hit, another comes, then another. I start to feel the emotions pile up on top of me, as I struggle to take them in and recognize them, one at a time.

This is necessary, this organization. I take the emotion. I experience it. I look at it. I try to find the origin of the thing. Then I sit back, staring at the jumbled mess of my mind, and try to decide where to file it. It needs a place to stay, after all. It can't just stay on my fucking floor like clutter, for me to trip over every five minutes.

I find myself wishing desperately for some true understanding. "Desire is the design flaw." This is the statement that comes to mind every time I see her. Today, it made me laugh.

I wanted to cry so bad, it hurt me so much to want her. And all I could do was breathe, step back, and laugh at myself. How silly of me, to think I had the control to take this on. The ego is strange and predictable.

I want to not be a slave to all this. I want to find peace.

But I'm terribly afraid to let go. I'm afraid of not knowing how to live my life, without this ego.

Leap of faith, indeed.

So It Goes Around Again

I have been a complete mess lately.

I hate myself for loving her. I hate that she knows I want her, and I can't seem to stop showing it. Then she has to deal with how pathetic I am, and it hits my pride...and I hate myself even more.

I keep thinking that this is the same shit that made my ex hate me, beat me up and yell at me. She had to live with me being desperate for her, and jealous of everyone she cared about. It drove her fucking crazy.

I keep thinking that I'm going to lose my best friend if I can't stop loving her. I keep thinking that I wish I had at least a little control over my feelings, because it seems like everybody else in the world does. I feel defective, and out of control, and scared.

I feel like I need help.

Feeling Like A Damn Teenager

You look at me, and I see it
a flicker of movement behind your eyes
heartstrings, I suppose you'd call them
I feel it in my chest, the pulling
Tug
You look at me
I think...
Don't.
Please.
God.
Stop...
PleaseGodDon'tStop.
You look at me
I miss what you're saying
looking at the curve of your lips
trying like hell to find a word to describe it...
Beautiful. Seductive. Heartbreaking.
Delicious.
I open my mouth to speak
I close it again.
to contemplate the difference
between wanting and needing you
to think about the agony
of my hands aching to touch you
to feel the terror
of knowing your touch could break me...
of knowing you could break me without touching me.
You look at me
and I come undone
you see me. you know me.
You move me.
You captivate me.
and it takes all I have
to remember to breathe.

Things You Knew All Along

I keep ending up in the same places.

I don't love myself enough, I don't feel like I deserve love, and I fall for people that confirm that for me.

What I want to know is why.

Why do I do this? Why don't I love myself? Why do I fall for people I can't have?

And why do I understand what I'm doing, yet still manage to do it anyway? That doesn't make any sense. I tell myself frequently that I'm going to value myself more, and stop doing things that hurt me...it lasts for a little while. But I fall back into a pattern.

I REALLY need help. I can't keep doing this to my son's mother.

You've Got Me All Wrong...But You've Got Me

As these things tend to do, the situation came to a head.

As if being in love with your best friend isn't hard enough, she had to go and make me talk about it. And even though she was so easy to talk to before, I couldn't find the words to say "I wish that I didn't love you so much that it hurts."

Because really. Who says that?

The decision is that we will put up some reasonable boundaries so that we can still spend time together...because the option of not speaking to each other anymore is just, well...not an option.

And I feel like I just did this. Like I'm ALWAYS trying to get over loving someone...which is honestly completely dramatic because including her, I have really only felt like this twice. But I'm an ass, and it literally took me years to get over the last one.

But the idea of having to move past it...just the thought of the pain I've already been dealing with, and knowing for a fact that I'm in for more...it makes me feel exhausted. I know that I will get over it, I know things will eventually be better, but I also know that there's no way to just skip over the hard parts. I am not a fan of just letting things run their course.

I would like a little control, please. I would like a way to turn emotions off when they're of absolutely no use to anyone.

And if I'm being perfectly honest, I would like to lie with her again, and kiss her and have her hold me. "One last time" sounds like heaven when compared to "never again."

This Blog Should Probably Be Private, As A Whole

I don't know where I get off, thinking that falling for her makes any difference at all.

I'm not even sure yet how to handle it. She feels something too, sure. But I doubt it's love, and I doubt it matters much to her, in any case.

She's fickle, by her own admission. And her wanting me doesn't mean she doesn't love him, any more than it means that she does love me.

Love. Stuff and nonsense. Why am I even thinking about it as if it matters? Inconsequential, so long as you don't mind burning a bit.

And it does burn. I feel this hollowness in my chest when she's not around. Tears come, completely unexpectedly. My insecurities come bubbling to the surface when she doesn't call. When she does...my heart beats faster, my chest feels tight and I wonder why I can hardly breathe.

I try to tell myself to shut it off. The logical center of my brain knows that even if we could be together, it would be complicated. I couldn't trust her not to tire of me quickly. I couldn't trust her to be mine.

But I feel anything but logical these days, and even here I feel the urge to write about her smile, and that thing she does with her mouth when I'm touching her...and the way the world comes to a complete stop when her breath starts to come short.
I want to write about how easy it is to talk to her, even when what I have to say isn't easy to communicate. And how she always seems to understand what I really mean.
I want to write about how interesting it is to listen to her talk...how I never find myself bored with her. I'm amazed by her intelligence, her strong sense of self, her dedication to the people that matter to her.
She makes me laugh. She's wonderful with my son, he adores her. She really sees me, and she treats me with respect.
And bloody fucking hell, I WANT her.

Painful as it is, I don't know if I would want to change it. Nothing can come of it but holy hell, it is incredible just to FEEL it. I had wondered if I even could. I'll find a way to shove the feelings aside...I've no choice in the matter, and I want her in my life. I couldn't lose her friendship.
But I could likely do with some space, before it gets dramatic.

Wouldn't want to actually screw something up, if I can help it.

Because It Hurts

My pregnant, engaged, good friend?

I am falling in love with her. And I want to kick my own ass for it.

I've noticed an infatuation for months now, and it has been rather intense. I've spent small bits of time away from her to see if it goes away. And sure, it helps a little. But then I see her and I feel like I just come undone.

Her fiance is (of course) all about us hooking up. We did, last night.

She has feelings for me too. I just didn't expect to feel anything like this. The butterflies. Missing her after one day apart. That sinking feeling in my stomach when she says she misses me. The empty feeling in my chest when I know she's with him. Feeling like I'm going to fucking puke. The anxiety of waiting for a call, or a text.

What.The.Fuck.

Aw Hell, Might As Well Do It

So, yes...my son is seven months old now.

I can't help but feel I'm posting out of some strange sense of obligation, since I've not posted for quite some time. But in truth, I have felt an overwhelming sense of oh-my-god-he's-getting-so-big over the past few days....admittedly accompanied by some tears.

You may want to chalk that last bit up to my raging hormones, since the beloved (see: hated beyond repair) Aunt Flo has decided to make her first appearance since January of 2009. This happened, appropriately, THE DAY The Boy turned 7 months old. I have been tired, hungry, emotional and unbelievably horny ever since.

But this post is not about my period OR my out of control sex drive (I will possibly post about the latter tomorrow). It's about my BABY and how he's AWESOME.

The child has 4 teeth. He is eating solid foods every night (lots of avocado). He sits unassisted for very long periods of time.
He loves music. His current list of favorites include: "Bad Romance", "Boom Boom Pow", "Don't Stop Believing", and "Four 15's"
Before you lecture me about the propriety of letting my baby listen to lyrically suggestive pop music, I'm afraid I'll have to remind you of one thing; I don't give a flying fuck.

The truth is, I'm entirely in love with this child. He grabs my face and dives at me, open-mouthed for kisses. He cuddles me every time I sing to him. He whines "Maaamaamam maam" when he's getting cranky. He cries when I walk away, and smiles when I return. He is my world, and I seem to be his. It suits us fine.

Every day, at least once, I get this feeling. A moment or two of joyful anticipation, of peace...and each time it comes over me it takes me a few moments to recognize it. After all, it isn't something I've felt a lot in my life. It's happiness. The truth is, everything is as it should be, so long as I have this incredibly boy in my life. I never thought I could be so happy, and I owe it all to him.

Here's my little monkey at 7 months

Emotionally Unavailable Women Are My Greatest Weakness

Think I maybe have some issues? Yeah, ME TOO.

A couple weeks ago, I spend the day with her...we drive home, kids all asleep when we pull into her driveway and...there's a kiss.

Days later, kids take a nap, we cuddle up (bad idea). Within minutes her hands are on me, her mouth on my neck.

The Next day, a little playful kissing.

I cried all the way home because WTF am I doing? She's engaged and even though he has said he wouldn't mind us fooling around that is SO not my style. That is not what I want, and not what I need but she is magnetic and I feel like I can't think straight.

I wouldn't mind it if it weren't for the fact that kissing, sex, cuddling...it's all intimate. Even if I want it to be casual, It's not. I can already see myself being jealous and hurt because she doesn't want more than sex.

Most of the time it's fine. Those few events are small hiccups in our friendship...we spend most of our time together, and enjoy each others company immensely. But some nights (like tonight), I feel like things could be amazing if we were together.

That is the last thing I want to feel. And I'm hoping it's just loneliness. I'm hoping it's just an attraction, and nothing more. I can't keep getting submerged in these impossible relationships. I can't keep wanting people who don't love me, or don't treat me right...or both.

Really hope this attraction just wears off soon.

Fucked.

I wish I could say I know what I'm doing.

All I can say is that I'm feeling like I'm making the same mistakes. Since I was a child, the same crap over and over again.

Emotionally unavailable women. And men.
Considering casual sex (which, HELLO, sex? yeah...totally not casual).
Second guessing myself.
Self loathing.

I feel embarrassed and ashamed and....I feel like someone that I would not respect. And even though that should make me want to try harder and be better, I feel very much defeated right now.

I wonder why no one has ever loved me enough to treat me like they love me. Then I wonder if it's because I have never wanted anyone to treat me like I'm worthy of love because...I think part of me believes I'm just..not.

And I think that's majorly fucked up.

6 Months

Holy hell, my baby is half a year old.

And yes, time does fly.

I can't believe how much he has grown. I can't believe how much he has changed. Browsing some vintage pics and videos today, I was amazed to see how small he was. All I want to do is go back to those first few weeks with my tiny, new baby and hold him close. I want to go back and tell myself that I need to enjoy it.

I would give anything to keep him like this forever. I know how crazy that sounds. But it is incredibly painful to know that this baby that I love more than life will one day not be a baby at all. That some day all I will have to remind me of these incredible days will be a few pictures and outfits. I understand, now, the desire to have multiple children. Welcoming children into the world and watching them grow is the most beautiful, rewarding experience.

The Boy has become even more social. He sleeps just as little as always. He started sleeping with me this past month, because we simply can not live with that little sleep (this development has led me to forgo my usual 2 cigarettes a day...something about it being BAD or some shit).
He loves animals, and "sings" to them (see: makes high pitched "aaahhh" sounds).
HE HAS 2 TEETH!!!!
He still hates tummy time.
He does not feel the need to eat any of the baby food I try to give him.
He now tries to nurse whenever he feels the urge, diving open-mouthed at my breasts.
He thinks that he must have whatever I have. Seriously. EVERYTHING I have is AWESOME.
He still pants like a puppy much more often than he actually laughs.
He beats himself with his fists when he gets excited.
He is in size 3 diapers.
He wants YOUR food. No substitution will do. He will put himself in danger trying to get it.
He makes kissing noises.
He says "mamamamamama" and "wawwawawawawa" and occasionally "bababbbaba".
He pulls on my hair/clothes/bedding/skin/whatever when he wakes up or nurses.

He is the light of my life. I have never been so happy. I never would have even dreamed I could be this happy. He makes every day an adventure.

I love you, little boy. There is no way to tell you how much.

I'll keep you my dirty little secret

You know you're a hot mess when your first thoughts upon waking are about wanting someone to pull your hair.

Dirty, dirty thoughts.

So I sit here eating chocolate (because ohmygod it's actually helping), and thinking about the remarkable amount of restraint it has been taking to not give into these crazy hormones.

And then I think of restraints, and it's all downhill from there.

I can say with absolute certainty that my instinct is to act and not think. My mind becomes all hazy and I can't remember why I shouldn't be doing these things.

*facepalm*

this is beyond pathetic.

Throwing stones

It can be a very big slap in the face when you realize you have no right to judge anyone.

We all like to judge. I mean, I sure do. Why? CUZ. It's FUN. Gives us (me) something to talk about so that I'm not always left wondering why I'm so effing boring (answer; I spend all my time with an infant).

I went to visit my sister today (groan). For some reason I actually thought it was a good idea to talk to her about my horrifically gigantic sex drive, and how I'm THISCLOSE to doing something skanky to relieve the need for intimacy.

Side note: if I did something whoreish I would totally post about it for you, internet. Don't worry, I tell all.

I should have predicted the lecture on morals that would come my way. I should have kept my frustrations to myself. Mrs. I've-only-had-intercourse-with-my-husband couldn't possibly understand the agony of 15 months of celibacy. Saying it clouds your judgment sounds like a cop-out, but I can say from experience that I can't really think straight. The down side to casual sex is becoming less and less apparent to me by the minute. For the time being, I have managed to keep it in my pants, but I'm not going to pretend it's easy.

After listening to how morally superior my sister is, and starting to feel terrible about myself, I realized something. This hoe ain't foolin no one! She was going down on women before I was! She was making out with people's girlfriends. She was fooling around with people's boyfriends. Granted, she was merely a teenager at the time...but it's not as if you get a clean slate just because there was no penile penetration. Who is she to judge me?

People in glass houses, yo.

I was contemplating this on the drive home (because you get a lot more thinking done in the car when you have no stereo system), and unfortunately it only made me feel worse.

See, I live in a glass house too. I have made so many bad decisions that I have probably forfeited my right to judge anyone. Like, ever. Which, I have to admit, is a huge bummer for me. Because of the aforementioned judgy-ness. But there is something awful about viewing your situation from the outside. Seeing myself the way others probably see me is somewhat terrifying, and makes for some serious self loathing. There are some mistakes that you can't ever take back.

I just wish that I knew how to freaking forgive myself already.

The Good Stuff.

I cuddled with my ex the other day.

Now, before anyone jumps to judge, I do have to say that it was innocent, and just nice to have someone holding me. After all, it has been a long time.

I'm literally STARVING for affection right now.

Some days, it's not bad at all...other days, I can hardly think about anything but having someone touch me.

But laying with her reminded me of why I love to be with women. The softness and the curves and the way they moan and kiss and tease and ohmygod.....

But, if I'm being quite honest...everything feels like foreplay when I'm with a woman. And I have always wondered why. I have always hated that I feel that way.

So here's my confession: I have never loved a man, but I love fucking them.

Gender doesn't actually matter...not in the long run. But I had to admit these feelings somewhere.

I miss being held and kissed and touched and fucked, but I don't want to deal with a relationship yet. I'm not ready to go looking for someone. I'm happy just being with my son. But what do you do, when you miss the good stuff?

I wish I knew.

Well, I WAS getting tired of sleeping alone...

I have been bed-sharing for a little over 2 weeks.

I know....BAD mommy. Starting something at five months that a lot of kids are being weaned from by that point. Stupid habit to form, knowing that I don't want to continue doing it.

So it started off simple. I was exhausted around 8am when he woke up one morning, so I brought him to bed to feed him. We lay down to nurse and both fall asleep. He slept for 2 more hours and I'm like "HOLY CRAP that was fucking AWESOME!" But totally not something I'm comfortable with continuing to do (after all, why did I spend the money on that fancy monitor, just to sleep with my kid?).

But I'm tired all the time. Slowly, I started bringing him to bed with me earlier. I could keep him in the crib most of the night, but would eventually give up on trying to stay awake and transition him into his crib (where he will usually start screaming). The past 2 nights, I have ended up with him in bed with me before midnight.

BUT Y'ALL, THIS SHIT IS AMAZING! I don't have to stay awake when he's nursing, I don't have to deal with a crying baby in the middle of the night, I don't have to get out of bed...and snuggle time with my baby = completely awesome and wonderful. I'm feeling like I actually got some rest in the morning, and I get to wake up to him talking/grabbing/staring lovingly at me, which rocks my world.

But on the other hand, I don't want to have to deal with him getting attached to it, and having to wean him when he's older and has more memory/understanding of the situation. Every night for the past week, I have told myself that I'm going to stay awake and put him back in his crib to break the habit. But fuck (no, not butt fuck), I can't even express how much I REALLY don't want to go back to losing all that sleep.

But it must be done. *sigh* the position I have to sleep in to keep him safe is not good on my body, and my back hurts so bad I can hardly take a deep breath. I put my hands up to stretch it out tonight, and my arms started tingling. Now, I'm not an expert or anything, but I'm pretty sure that's a bad sign. I'm on a heating pad as I type, thankyouverymuch.

I'm trying to find the strength to go through with breaking the habit, no matter how little sleep I get. But if I wake up tomorrow with my baby in my bed...
well, I really won't be surprised.

What can I say? I like sleeping, yo.

If It Ain't Broke...

So, here's the thing about relationships: They're not necessary.

Men, Women...whatever. The Boy and I do just great, with or without them. And actually...I think we likely do better without me being a distracted, lusty mommy.

Becoming a mother did a few things for me that I never expected. For example; if you had asked me if I loved myself before I got pregnant, you likely would have gotten either A) a blank stare or B) an eye roll. After all, who REALLY loves themselves? That's just silly. I mean...ISN'T IT?!

Actually, no. Not silly at all. How did I find this out, you ask?

Don't know. Don't care. I can truly say I'm no longer battling self hatred like an emo 16yr old, and it feels fantastic.

Add to that an increasing self awareness, and the lack of time and/or energy to play ridiculous emotional games, and I'm starting to wonder why it takes something like having a baby to actually get my head on straight.

I've been selling myself short for so long, I don't even know why I didn't see it. But I have been having such an amazing time, just taking The Boy out to explore the world. And I realized we don't need anything else...anything more than what we have already. This situation doesn't need to be fixed. The Boy and I...we are just fine.

So if someone comes along...great. If not...no big deal. I'm sure some day I'll be even more lonely, and I might actually start "looking" for someone. But for now, I'm pretty damn happy, thanks.

5 Months Old

I can't believe it has been five months.
In some ways, it feels like I just gave birth to this beautiful baby.
On the other hand, I feel like I have had him and loved him forever. The thought of life without him just doesn't make any sense.

We have been so happy. Things feel like they're finally making sense. Even though he has been refusing naps, and wanting to sleep with me (and screaming his head off when I put him in the crib), I don't think life could get any better.

Every day has been a new adventure. I love taking him out, and he loves to be out of the house.

He's so serious, and I spend so much time trying to get those elusive giggles out of him. When other people laugh, he gets the most serious look on his face, like he's genuinely concerned that something is wrong with us.

If you sing "love story" by Taylor Swift, he is all smiles.

My baby,
Life doesn't always go the way it should. My life before you was a mess of confusion, bad decisions and insecurities. But these past five months with you have shown me what happiness feels like. Loving you has given me every reason to turn my life around, and make sure that your childhood is as happy and care-free as I can possibly make it. You are such a joy to have in my life, and seeing your smile makes me feel like the luckiest mother in the world.

At this point in time, you're entirely dependent on me. You need me more than anything else in the world right now, and that sort of demand is something you won't understand until you have children of your own. But some day you'll understand that I need you every bit as much as you need me. You are the world to me, and without your cries, your smiles and laughs...my life would be empty.

There is nothing that I wouldn't do for you. I only hope that I'm able to be the type of mother you deserve. I promise I will give you all that I have. Your happiness is the greatest reward, and I couldn't ask for anything more.
I love you, baby boy.

Questions You Never Knew Needed Answered

Very recently, I was asked a simple (but entirely annoying) question.

Someone (who I want to fucking bitch slap) asked me if becoming a mother made me want to be a better person.

Even though it took all of my energy not to tell her that only a dumb-fuck would ask a question like that, thankyouverymuch...I decided to take a moment to actually answer her (you know, because I'm sweet like that).

It doesn't take a genius to look at the situation I'm in and see that I have made a number of bad decisions. A few months into my pregnancy, once I had gotten past the this-can't-even-be-real feeling, I began to gain a little perspective on some things in my life. I remember telling a friend at one point that if you looked back on the decisions I have made in my life, you might come to the conclusion that I was a huge fucking idiot. Who knows...I just might be.

As I have done all too often in my life, I started picking myself apart. Hating myself, actually, for each and every idiotic decision I've ever made...from bad haircuts all the way to whoring it up, I made myself pay. Oh, how I would torture myself. I needed to pay for my stupidity, and no one could punish like I could punish, so I spent months beating myself up and brooding like some fifteen year old emo kid. I was a mess.

Then my son was born, and wouldn't sleep. I felt massive amounts of anxiety at being this child's only guardian, the one and only person who was responsible for keeping him alive, fed, clothed, sheltered, and happy. I thought if I looked away for one second he would simply stop breathing, and it made me crazy. I stayed up in the middle of the night during his short stretches of sleep, crying and watching him, feeling completely helpless. And he would wake. And he would cry. And I would try to tell myself we were both going to be just fine, but I was falling apart.

After some time passed, and I adjusted to the new demands on my time, as well as the lack of sleep, I decided to start exercising again. I started to feel good again. And I started to think about what to do with my life. All the while my son watched me. He watched me cry in the middle of the night, when I was tired and frustrated. He watched me try to learn how to make him happy. He watched me clean, he watched me cook, he watched me work out and get dressed and talk to him, and he started to react. He started copying the sounds I was making, copying what I was doing with my hands, and suddenly I realized that he sees everything I do.

That realization brought everything into focus. This child is going to learn how to react to the world by watching how I react to the world. And that's what made me vow to figure out my issues, and finally DEAL with them. My body image issues, my intimacy issues, my insecurities, my lack of direction, my emotional instability...all of it will impact him unless I find a way to work through it now.

So yes, being a mom made me want to be a better person. Not necessarily a give-to-the-poor, end world hunger, take a stand type of better person (though certainly the urge to help others has been impacted as well), but the type of person that doesn't have to worry that they're not good enough. A better ME.

And suddenly, happy mommy = happy baby began to make sense to me. So simple in theory. In reality, in life...it's a struggle. But if I ever figure it out, I know it will have been well worth the effort. For my sake, as well as his.

Boring Mommy

My kid gets bored with me all the time.

Not because I'm boring, as you may or may not think....but because he's a freak of nature that must always be stimulated.

This means yours truly spends most days scrambling for new and amusing things to do. First thing in the morning, while enjoying my precious 'Snuggle-bug' time (see: me cuddling my kid's brains out until he's literally pushing me away), my mind is whirling with ideas of how to keep us both from being bored.

Now, I'm not a planner. In an ideal world, I would have plans lined up for each day of the week. This would eliminate my current method of texting people randomly, desperate for somewhere to go/something to do (which, in case you're wondering, is not exactly glamorous or overly effective). Problem is, when I do actually make plans, they end up being with people who find it all too easy to flake on me (you all know who you are). That's not to say I have bad friends....just ones with lifestyles completely different from mine.

I used to think it was sooooo much easier to just sit at home with the babe, because hell...his crib is here, his bouncer, his swing, all of his toys. But being in the same places for any extended period of time will make my son throw a fit. So...we're almost at five months now...what do we do? Is it time to start pulling out the big guns? Zoo? Aquarium? Sports events? Restaurants? I'm dying for summer weather, so swimming pools will be an option. I love taking him out to see friends and family, but I think I'm at the point where I need to extend my arsenal. Any ideas? Anyone?

A Mother's Love

There is a lot that I didn't understand before becoming a parent.

There is a lot that there is no way to understand, until you experience it.

When I was young, I remember my mom telling me she would die if anything ever happened to one of her kids. I always thought that was just something parents said...the thought never occurred to me that she would actually die. After all, she did have quite a few children, and we all needed her equally.

Looking at my son, I completely understand. Just the thought of something happening to him makes me feel as if my heart will stop beating in my chest. Never in my life could I have possibly imagined loving someone so fiercely. Never could I have imagined the absolute terror I feel at the thought of ever losing him. Nothing in the world could have prepared me for the fear, the love, the absolute and pure joy of being a mother to this wonderful creature.



There is pain in life...it comes from all directions. God knows it's not easy, being single, being a mom, being a friend, a daughter, a sister, a woman....and yet, there is the very real sense that as long as my son is okay, I will be too. Although I know I can still be hurt, and feel the pain of loss, failure, confusion...a broken heart...it is all put into perspective when I look at my little boy.

Every morning I wake up to him whimpering, whining, talking or blowing raspberries in his crib. I turn on the light, smile at him and say "hi" and the smile I get in response makes every morning perfect. The half hour that I spend each morning, nursing, changing, playing and snuggling him before we're up and moving is the absolute best part of every single day. There aren't words out there to describe the bliss of holding him, his head resting on my shoulder and his tiny body seeming to mold into mine. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

The Sleeping Situation

It doesn't matter how tired I am...my brain starts functioning at a rapid rate shortly after my son goes to sleep.

This is why it's 1am and I'm still awake, wishing I had people around to interact with.

I'm beyond exhausted. We're still up 2-5 times a night (usually only 3 times, which I'm grateful for). But if you add my insomnia to the mix, you get a big fat mess. I'm irritable, I'm forgetful, I can't focus and every day I pray for a nap. You know...one that lasts longer than 20-30 minutes.

So anyways....don't be surprised if I'm ever found face down on my living room floor. To be quite honest, I'm shocked I've made it this long with only a little bit of help. There is absolutely a reason that sleep is one of the things moms want the most.

Good thing The Boy is so damn awesome. At least I never have to wonder if it's worth it.

Where Can I Pick One Up?

My sisters have found themselves two exceptional men.
I tend to trust their judgment in people even more than mine because, let's face it, I'm sort of a dumbass when it comes to that kinda thing.

Sister B. Went to her house for dinner the other night. After her husband got off work (she is currently unemployed), he came home and washed his car. Then he washed hers, and mine (completely unprompted...imagine!). He noticed something on my car that needed fixing, so he took care of that too....without even saying a word about it to me. If that wasn't enough, he then went into the house, and proceeded to make dinner and drinks for us. When I told him he was awesome, he just smiled and said "oh don't worry, it's all for show," and laughed off the compliment.
And I thought...holy crap. I didn't even know that a brother-in-law could be such a wonderful and welcome addition.

Sister C. Came over with her boyfriend to take me out to look at a car. Boyfriend grabbed my computer and pulled up the info, called the owner and tried to get a reasonable price for me. He told me he wouldn't take me to go see it because he won't let me get ripped off. So he found a number of other cars, talked to the owners himself, haggled his ass off, and even though he had plans that night, he blew them off and stuck around to get me a good car at a good price. He looked at everything, test drove it, and made sure everything was good enough for me. Then he bought me celebratory beer.
Because that guy is freaking awesome.

Where do you find these men? I need to know...for real. I'm not really anyone to them. Hell, I'm not even the one sleeping with them, and they still go out of their way to help me.

Only people who are obligated have ever been that good to me. Even when I am sleeping with someone, they don't do things like this for me. Quite obviously, I have slept with a bunch of assholes....at least if I compare them to the men my sisters have.

So what's wrong with me? Why do I attract douchebags? And also...am I only this impressed by these guys because I'm so used to douchebags?

I really need to know why I keep getting involved with people who treat me like shit. I knew I had issues...but this just confirms it. There are good people out there, and I continuously go for the bad ones. If I could figure out what the fuck is wrong with me, it would be a lot easier to fix. So someone let me know. KTHXBAI.

Too Late

Feeling really low tonight.

I looked at pics of The Boy's father tonight. Sometimes he looks so much like him. Part of me hates it. Certain expressions really bring it out, and it reminds me of how wrong it was to sleep with him, and it brings back so much anger and fear and pain. It also reminds me of how messed up I have made my son's life.

Having a baby with someone you don't want to be with...and who treats you like shit when he finds out you're pregnant...it's never a good thing. I just can't believe how wrong things went. I keep telling myself that if he wants to be around, he will try...I haven't spoken with him since I was 6-7 months pregnant. He was harassing me and pressuring me and threatening to take my son and...the man has a history of being incredibly irresponsible. God knows he's not the type of role model I would want for my son.

I have never had to be a boy without a father. Obviously, I don't know how this will play out...how it will hurt him. He has men around that love him, and that will always be there and I have to hope that's enough. It was my decision to sleep with the wrong man that put us in this position though, and to think that it could hurt my little boy just breaks my heart.

I feel like such a failure as a mother, at the moment. I failed before I even began. I failed to be in the right relationship, be in the right financial situation, the right...anything. I want so much more for my boy than I have given him. And I just want to curl up and cry, right now....because there is nothing I can do to make it right.

Who Needs Words?

This face is all I need. He is my everything.

Diving In

Some days, I really think I am a complete fucking idiot.

I know, my self loathing is super attractive.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who has ever felt this way. I look back at decisions I have made and say "WHAT?! Was I struck repeatedly with an idiot stick before I made that decision?" And while it seems like I'm being overly dramatic (this is one of my bigger character flaws), I assure you, I've done some stupid shit.

Not being true to myself (and honest with someone else) because of fear = stupid.
Moving in with my ex girlfriend = stupid.
Allowing her to cut me off from friends and family = stupid.
Sticking around long after it became abusive = stupid.
Having casual sex in order to feel desired = stupid.

The list goes on. It's no wonder I made poor choices. Quite obviously, I did not value myself. Attribute this to parental problems, personality disorders, societal pressures, or whatever the hell you please. Point is, I had no sense of self worth. And what's effed up? The fact that I've made such poor choices in the past makes it hard for me to value myself, even still. Because, c'mon y'all...where's the value in a fuck up?

I'm sick of it though. There is something that has been causing me to be comfortable with myself lately (it's very likely exhaustion). Suddenly I don't have any energy to be sugar coated, or anything other than exactly who I am when I'm alone with my son. And you know what? I may not like everything about me, but at least I can say that honestly. I'm finally getting down to the bottom of who I am, and I'm not afraid to say there's some good there.

I can look pretty damn attractive. I can also look like a train wreck, but that's a whole 'nother thing.
I'm awesome at cuddling. Like, I live for that shit.
I like being alone with my thoughts.
I can enjoy silence in the company of others.
I know how to say what I mean, and mean what I say.
Once I let someone in, they're in for good. I do not do half-assed.
I enjoy working hard, and seeing the results of my labor.
I know how to love passionately, and I will not settle for less.

And as I find myself growing more comfortable, I'm finding a lot more love for myself. And it gives me hope that some day, I will be loved by someone else.

You Knew It Was Coming...

I HAVE FOUR MONTH OLD!

I can't even believe how quickly he is growing up. It's the speed at which he's learning that's really making my head spin. It's insane that each month seems to go even faster than the last. But what's even more insane is that this kid keeps doing bigger and better things to blow my mind.

Here's what I'm talking about, y'all.

A few days ago, he started trying to laugh. It's currently somewhere between a screech, a cough and a giggle. Sounds like a hot mess, I know, but it's adorable.

Yesterday, he freaking rolled over. Strangely, it was from his back to his belly. This kid hates being on his tummy, so he's not too big on doing it, and has only done it a couple times since then (yes, we had to put toys just out of his reach to make him do it).

He pulls off his socks, because he started grabbing his feet all the time.

He doesn't talk so much as wail, but he does this all the time. Almost non stop chatter.

We have gotten much better sleep, due to some early sleep training.

He started doing funny things while nursing. He gets distracted from it easily, and pulls back to smile and talk to me, or look at someone else who's talking near us. He tries to talk while nursing, and has started blowing raspberries with my nipples in his mouth (which is weird, yes....but also quite hilarious).

Every day, I feel like I discover something else about him. The more he learns, and the more I see how his mind is working, the more I fall in love with him. He cuddles with me every morning. He demands my full attention. He clearly communicates what he wants. He's silly and whiny and absolutely the most wonderful person in the world.

Here's The Boy, happy at four months

Girls...What Have We Done?

I don't have any career goals or aspirations.

*sits back and waits for flames and snide remarks*

No, I'm serious. I will need to work, because I need to support my son...so I will have to find a career that...while I likely won't be passionate about it or love it..won't make me want to shoot myself in the face every day.

When I was younger, I was always told "don't get married until you finish college" or "don't settle down before establishing your career first" or "having kids makes it hard to advance your career or go to school."

There was always such emphasis put on how important it was to go to school and make a living for yourself...like what you do is who you are. Like your career is your life.

Tell anyone that you don't want a career these days, and you hear crickets. When in high school, you would hear a waver in the voice of so many girls when they said "well, after I finish this, I want to get married" or "yeah, I want kids...someday".

I was one of those girls. When I said those things, I wanted to cry. Something inside of me was whispering "liar" and I pushed it down. The truth is, there are so many of us who are so SCARED to say "I want a husband/partner and a family."

People look at you like you have grown a third arm.

Where did the Woman's Movement go wrong? We fought so hard for this, for the ability to work and be equal. Now, we have all of this societal pressure to actually BE like a man. Get an Education. Build your own life, support yourself. Be more adventurous sexually. Some women thrive in this lifestyle. The rest of us...we sit and wonder what is wrong with us. We don't even admit to each other that we might want a family first.

Our worth is associated with where we got our degree, what we do, how much we make...and those who do stay home are seen as 'less than'. And that just seems so wrong to me.

What's worse? We did it to ourselves. I just look around and wonder...how did we end up here? I'm willing to bet this was not what was intended when this all began.

Bella Says

Watch The United States of Tara on Showtime.



No, seriously. This is what I'm telling you to do, so go do it.

I have recently started to admit that yes, I am a complete snob. I do not take direction from other people well. When it comes to books, music, t.v., and the like...I feel I am the authority.

When someone tells me "this is good, I think you'll like it," in the back of my mind I'm thinking "that is wildly presumptuous of you...I think I will NOT like it."

So, even knowing full well that many of you out there are complete assholes like I am, I have to tell y'all to watch this shit. Because it's funny, yo.

Multiple personalities? Funny. Teenage drama? funny. Incredible acting...well, not so much funny, but you get the idea.

When you have sat down and watched at least two episodes of this show, I would like you to come back here, and tell me how I am the most awesome person on the whole internet for telling you to watch it.

*sits back and waits*

Mommy FAIL

Okay, so I'm a jerk.

I needed to run to the store tonight, when my son was cranky and needed a nap. So instead of getting a nap, the bedtime routine started early.

By the time he was out of his bath, dressed, swaddled, and ready to nurse...the child was beyond exhausted. I thought he might fall asleep nursing. But no, of course not...he was already so tired that his eyes were wide and he was completely dazed. I tried so hard to get him to a drowsy point, so he could fall asleep if I put him down...but he was not having it. He was EXHAUSTED. And overtired babies do not go to sleep easily.

He missed a nap, because of me. And now he's suffering the consequences, crying in his crib. And I feel like a horrible, selfish mommy.

This is the tricky thing about schedules and babies....they begin to rely on them. Any break in routine and you've got chaos on your hands.

I'm beginning to think I need to get better at working around his needs. Cause guys...I feel like a complete jackass. Like, for real. EPIC FAIL.

When You Think You've Got It Down

I've posted a number of times about the unfortunate complex mess that is the reality of being bisexual. So I'll keep this short.

I was having a conversation with my sister and her husband about sexual preference, and I admitted to the fact that when a man is attracted to me, I'm generally aware of it, and not shy. When a beautiful woman so much as glances at me, I turn into a hot mess and I'm a blubbering blushing fool that can't meet her gaze. I have always found it strange.

What's even more strange? Most of my sexual dreams are about women. Most of my sexual fantasies are about men. My sister said that since I think about men when I need to *ahem* er...get off...then I have my answer as to what I really want.

Touche. Indeed.

What sucks? I think I will always have that other gender desire...no matter what gender I end up with.

Free Time? Whaaaa???

What do you do when you find yourself suddenly baby-less, with totally free time on your hands?

My mom took the little one out for FIVE hours the other day. That's right, five whole hours with no baby. I found myself suddenly unable to remember what one does when they don't have a child to take care of. Just what did I do, before becoming a mother?

*sits back and waits for answer*

Yeah. I don't even know.

So I went and got coffee, and sat outside the coffee shop, attempting to read a novel that I have been awaiting for-freaking-ever (An Echo In The Bone by Diana Gabaldon). Anyone who reads these books knows that getting another book in this series is complete and total bliss (akin to multiple orgasms...no joke). But I found that my mommy brain can't even comprehend it. Reading this story is like meeting up with old friends, such is the depth of love you feel for these characters. I know the stories behind their scars (emotional and physical), know their quirks and subtleties of communication and posture and facial expressions and...sigh. This is what MAKES good writing, and my brain can no longer wrap around it all.

Gone, are the days where reading was leisure and as easy as breathing. Now it takes every ounce of concentration to get through a few pages and then...what the hell is going on? Jump back a page...then another...was I even paying attention while I was reading this? No, I was not. I was thinking about what my son is up to, and how he's doing without his mommy. Well...fuck.

So I sat there in the sun, sipping coffee and listening to the chatter of the people around me. Behind me sat two women and one very grungy looking man (very likely my age, plus or minus a year or two). I tuned in for a second to hear one of these ladies explaining her (self proclaimed) "deep" thoughts on how "like, the world is like, beautiful, and like...how often do I just look around and notice the sky and the trees...like, this is what people who are in prison are missing every day."
This is the point at which I realized...either this mommy thing has aged me, or...bitches be stupid these days.
Same woman started whining about her lack of time to do things like make things out of the beads she bought...what with her couple of college classes and all. Since I had been there for about 40min or so, and they had been there when I arrived, I found this highly unlikely, and had half a mind to turn around and tell her that her "lack of time" was entirely imagined. But before my eyes could fall out from rolling, I just decided it was best that I leave.

I came home, wandered from room to room a bit, knowing full well that I could be doing any number of productive things. God knows the dishes won't do themselves, and I've been dying to get my clothes organized since the day I realized I can actually wear most of them again. But I snuggled my cat for the first time in months, turned on a movie, and lounged. It was glorious.

Only when my mom got home with a very hungry baby did I remember that I was supposed to eat something. *shrug* Oh well.

I will someday remember how to do this free time thing again. Er..I hope.

Lez It Up

I wanted to make out with my friend today.

I'm talking high school, drunk at a party with a bi-curious girl, dirty boob groping make out session. I'm sure she (and her boyfriend) would not have appreciated this.

My only defense? This Saturday is the anniversary of my BFP....which was well over a week after the last time I got any action. I will celebrate the anniversary of this positive pregnancy test by....well, I don't know...probably looking at my son in complete awe, as I still can't believe I actually made that perfect little person.

Anyways, the point? I may need to get laid...preferably some time before one of my poor unsuspecting friends (of either gender) gets mauled by my hormones.

Oh, and another defense; she's friggin HOT. You would want this girl too (yes, I'm talking to you my straight and (likely) married band of followers).

I have gone this long without sexy time before. Even with some of my not-so-well-thought-out sexual moves, I have been known to be picky and prudish...something I hope to be more of in the future. But a year and a couple months seems to be about the point where I start losing my mind (and previously, my pants).

So, to that friend, if you're reading; I'm sorry. You're super attractive and I can definitely remember *most of* what you said so I'm pretty sure I wasn't being a terrible friend. Next time I will do my best not to have any naughty thoughts about you, lest your boyfriend find out and either A) bust a cap in my ass or B) spring for a camcorder and a hotel room.

I think I will have to go Google 'ways to cope with abstinence' now.

The Ups And Downs

I have been seriously thinking about getting help for PPD (that's postpartum depression, if you're not initiated).

My anxiety is (quite obviously) out of hand. I sometimes don't feel interested in engaging with my son, and also have a hard time connecting to him when my anxiety gets really bad. I have a pretty short fuse most of the time, and almost anything can set me off. I feel guilty for wanting to take breaks from my son.

In short, I feel like a bad mom.

But on the other hand, I have great days too and sometimes think that it's just the exhaustion of being a single parent, coupled with the anxiety that I've had my entire life.

Either way, I'm uninsured so I'm feeling kinda screwed. Living off my savings right now makes it worse, because any money I might spend at a clinic is money that should be going towards baby stuff.

GOD THIS POST IS EVEN BORING ME.

Anyways, that's where I am, and why I'm not big on the blog-o-sphere right now. I'm doing what I can to deal with it, and for now I'm just kinda hoping it passes. I just have to tell myself to enjoy every second I have with my son, because time is really flying by and he'll be pushing me away soon enough. And in all honesty, he's the most amazing person in the world to me, and I love him more than I ever thought possible...and since those two statements are true, then it's also true that it's worth every bit of effort I have.

This little monster is the most precious thing in the world.

What Can't Your Kid Do?

One thing The Boy can't do is sleep. NO SLEEP AT ALL. For real, yo, this kid hates naps and hates night time (and as a result, I'm starting to feel like he hates me).
Sure he's had a few good nights (seven, to be exact).
But for the most part we're up 4-6 times every night and I get so cranky that I feel like a horrible mother.

It's to the point where I feel guilty for wanting him to sleep more, and I feel too tired to want to play with and love on him all the time. I honestly feel like if I keep having these thoughts, he is just going to die in his sleep and it will be my fault, because I'm the one who wanted more sleep.

Obviously, being rational is not something I'm especially good at.

I tend to keep myself up, thinking I need to kiss him as often as possible and keep saying "I love you" because when I wake up he could be dead. I find myself thinking "is this really what I want to remember doing or thinking about the night my baby dies?" Or I think "when he dies of SIDS, I'm going to feel really guilty for that."

Yes, Interwebz, you read that right. I am officially Bat-Shit-Crazy. Does knowing it's not logical help?
Not really. Maybe a little bit.

All I know for sure is that I need to sleep.

Does anyone else have thoughts like this? I know you're out there, readers.

And side note: I know it sounds like I have postpartum depression. I know I might benefit from therapy/Zoloft. I also know I don't even have health insurance, so me getting any help is highly unlikely...I am not a rich person. Were it my son needing help, I would make sure he had it...but this is me, and my money is better saved for him...especially since I'm living on my savings.

You've Got To Be Kidding

I'm at my wits end.

I have been trying to lose 10lbs for the past month. That's 30-60min of exercise every day, less than 2000 calories a day, on top of breastfeeding and losing unbelievable amounts of sleep.

I have not lost a single pound.

My pants fit me the same as they did a month ago (see: just barely). I want pasta and bread and cookies and to stop paying so much damn attention to every calorie I take in. I want to eat fast food.

The lack of sleep and the breastfeeding make it even harder because I'm starving, and craving food I can't have. I'm going to lose my mind.

Any suggestions, interwebz?

Go Eff Yourself.

This post is dedicated to all the people who need to screw off. Yes, I'm talking to you.

Jillian Michaels, you top my list (if only because I want to throat punch you, while I simultaneously want to do naughty girly-sex things to you). You are a (kinda hot) pain in my ass. Your 30 Day Shred killed my knees and ankles so now I gimp around like an 80yr old. Sexy. Thanks.

To all people involved in taking any Joss Whedon show off the air...you are a douchetard. The days of Buffy and Angel were glorious. Dollhouse rocked my world, and you ruined it. TV is lame now. Good job. And just when I needed it to be good, as I sit here for numerous hours a day with a three month old.

FDA, you suck balls. I have been grocery shopping lately and may I say...you sure don't care what people put in their bodies. The quantity of junk food, the incredible selection....you know there are CINNABON toaster pastries?! You can make everything in a microwave. I wonder why we're so unhealthy. Bastards (oh and also, the self control required for me to NOT eat that stuff is ridiculous. Nom nom nom).

Now, to my housewife sister...you can really go eff yourself. Do not tell me that I should get a job and go to school at the same time, and leave my kid with other people. I set myself up in this situation so that I could avoid that. You like working so much? GET YOUR OWN DAMN JOB.
KTHXBAI

Three Months

I just can't believe he's already three months old.

I feel like I just pushed him out a few weeks ago. Or maybe that's my exhaustion and feelings of inadequacy talking. Shouldn't I be better at this by now?

He's incredible. I can't even believe all that he can do now.
He gets on his elbows.
He copies our sounds.
He copies our hands (open/close, punching motions).
He grabs and shakes his toys.
He puts things in his mouth.
He grabs at his feet.
He blows raspberries.
You know...just to name a few.

I think it's just that I'm his mom that makes me think he's a genius. But you never know.

I love you more every day, little man.

What The Frack?!

For realzies, I could easily have a heart attack.

You'll recall my post about the Angelcare Monitor and how incredible it is...

Well, as much as I love it, it almost killed me when it went off three times today...all within minutes of each other. My son is fine...wasn't turning blue, was breathing and reacting just fine...but it scared me so badly I thought I would lose my mind.

I don't understand what caused it, and that's what freaks me out. Prior to this I had only had one false alarm ever, and that one had me on edge for days.

But this is why I got it...to be warned if something is wrong. The chances are minuscule, but the fear is paralyzing. The fact is, the thought of anything happening to your child is enough to make any parent break into a sweat and feel nauseous.

I'm scared half to death. But thank God I have something to warn me...I couldn't stand it otherwise.

Business, As Usual

So I am going to have to admit, my kid really faked me out. I thought I had it made for a few days there. What can I say? I'm gullible.

This post is a bitch-fest. If you don't like that, stop reading now.

The Boy has always been a difficult baby at night. Generally not gonna sleep more than 1-2.5hrs at a time. But for a few glorious days last week, he slept through the night. I thought that meant there was a light at the end....I thought it meant something in his sleep pattern was changing for good.

But we're back to being up consistently 4-6 times during the night. If your kid does this, I'm willing to bet you know what I mean when I say it pisses me off. Like, I have to set him down and punch the bed/scream into a pillow/cry every few nights. It's normal for us, and I think that I'm entitled to being a little crazy since my son has had only 6 good nights in his three month life (by good, I mean 5hrs or more straight). Add in the fact that I'm single and have not ever had someone help in the middle of the night, and you've got THE CRANKIEST mommy ever.

Luckily, every 2-4 weeks or so, my mom will watch him for a few hours so I can take a nap. It has been three weeks since this has happened, so I could really use a little help right now. But unfortunately, she's sick and there is probably no end in sight.

But for all the moms out there who know how it feels to wake up and feed EVERY hour...who wake up after only a few minutes of dozing, terrified thinking they have fallen asleep holding the baby (because God knows you're too tired to remember when/how you got up to put them down)...all you moms who know that you sometimes have to talk yourself out of being upset with a baby, who couldn't possibly be at fault...

You are SO not alone.

If any other single moms out there know what it's like to only have one "mommy break" in a three month period, and be solely responsible for an infant 24/7, know that I commend you. This job does not stop for a single moment.

Thank God for our little ones, making it worth it every day.
Here's a picture of our nigh time adventures. Say "hi"!

OMG Y'all Will Not Believe This Shizzzz!!!

How does he go from just barely being able to control his hands, to grabbing and hitting things in just a couple days?!

Believe it or not, this video captures the exact moment he learned this because I just had a feeling I should start recording him.

Intuition? Yeah, it kicks ass.

Oh, and Also....

The Boy grabbed his foot for the first time tonight.

I almost pissed my pants with glee.

Holy Jesus

We have a tooth! At less than 3 months old!

er, well...kinda.

After a day of crazy bitchiness and drool (on The Boy's part, NOT mine), I decided that hey, it's my kid...I'm going to stick my fingers in that mouth and investigate what exactly has turned my son into the baby from hell. Slightly mortified at the thought of getting my fingertips nomed off, I entered cautiously, just pulling down his lip a bit and holymotherfuckinghell! WHAT is that white spot there?!

poke, prod, press, rub

Friggin tooth corner, that's what it is!

My excitement was such that I even considered waking up my mom (who, btw, had to be up at 3am) just to show her. I posted a FB update. I made my brother look at it. I obsessed over it until morning, when I looked again and yup, there it was...not a figment of my imagination.

So I couldn't contain myself, I called my mom...who promptly told me to brush his tooth-nub, lest it get all rotten before even coming out all the way.

So I did and guess what? Tooth went back into hiding. Gums got all swollen, and baby is still extremely bitchy. Today has been filled with tylenol, teething strips, and baby orajel.

And me? I'm exhausted. But completely OBSESSED with seeing that little white corner again. Ah, motherhood. Makes you bat-shit-crazy.

In Which I Cap A Bitch

You'll recall how I posted once about judgment? Well, this is along those same lines, so beware.

I never in my wildest dreams would have imagined how many people think they know how to parent my son better than I do. I know people always think they are the authority on parenting, and I was prepared to hear a lot of unsolicited advice. I never knew I would be getting the most judgment from people who aren't even parents.

Namely, my sisters.

I was offended when my little sister freaked out on me for taking my son out to see a friend. Granted, it's a friend I have a romantic history with (and one that I have admitted feelings for, still), and we were eating dinner in a hotel room but...come on. I have known the man for years. We are friends, and he has never hurt me (or anyone else that I know of).

Is this reason enough to tell me that I made a stupid decision, taking my son along? It's not as if I have an abundance of babysitters, or a desire to leave my son for any extended period of time. Hey, you 21 year old non-parent...back off. You do not get to tell me I'm an irresponsible parent.

I was shocked when I found that I can't have a drink without both of my sisters flipping the fuck out. Apparently it's a crime to have one glass of wine (or other drink) at night after putting my son to bed. 21 year old sister asked my mom if she thought my son was having sleeping troubles because I "drink so much."

This is the point at which I almost kill a bitch.

I do not breastfeed my son while I'm drunk. In fact, I have not gotten drunk anywhere near my son, ever. when I asked my twin sister to make me a drink, she hesitated and said "as long as you don't need to nurse him for a while..."

I am an adult. And I am his mother. I know better than you when I can and can't put my own son to my boob....and I have made sure that it has absolutely never been a concern.

Neither of these women are mothers. Neither has ever breastfed, and neither has had any experience that would give them any right to dull out parenting advice. I can't believe the stupidity and arrogance of people who have absolutely no authority on the subject of parenting.

So, in short...if you've got no experience, please do us all a favor and STFU. KthxBai.

What Price, Sanity?

When I came home with The Boy, I cried hysterically. I hadn't spent an enormous amount of time thinking about what the first few days or weeks with a new baby would be like (mostly because there is absolutely no way to prepare yourself). Like any new parent, I took care of what I could before giving birth. I made sure I had all of the practical things; the diapers, clothes, blankets, bed, swing, etc. I couldn't even attempt to do anything mentally or emotionally, because by the time I might have considered it, all of my energy was spent just wanting to not be pregnant anymore.

How was I supposed to know that the moment I realized I was the only person responsible for keeping my son alive, I would freak the fuck out? Suddenly, it was all OMGwhatifhechokesinhissleep or HolyshitwhataboutSIDS!?

There is nothing like realizing your baby could just be dead when you wake up to scare the freaking shit out of any new parent.

Now, add to that the already overwhelming reality of being responsible for taking care of the baby, postpartum hormones, complete exhaustion and physical discomfort...you've got hell on your hands.

For weeks I stayed up crying at night, making sure he was breathing. My mother always told me that if anything happened to one of her kids she would die. I took this as just something a parent says. Little did I know, she probably would actually die. I know that if my son was gone, I would likely drop dead on the spot. I never thought loving someone so much would be so...terrifying.

So I sucked it up. I bought the Angelcare Monitor, set it up, tested it five-hundred-million times, and...what do you know....SLEPT. I have had exactly one false alarm, and all I really know about that is that he didn't wake up when the alarm went off. He took a deep breath the moment I got to him and placed my hand on his chest. And absolutely NOTHING in the world was better than feeling my son take that breath.

I know it's weird, but I keep the ticking sound on. Sure, it's freaky to have something tell me every time my son moves. But when I do wake up freaked out because he has slept for a while, all I have to do is listen to that ticking sound, and I know everything is okay.

What can I say? He is my entire world. And for the sanity and comfort it provides me, this damn thing is effing priceless.

So go buy one. You know you want to.

Unintended Consequences

So we've been over my love/hate relationship with Jillian Michaels. But am I getting results?

Let me just say, y'all...I could put on a bikini, and not feel bad walking around in public. Sure, my body is different. There are stretch marks and yes, I am still a bit heavier than I'm used to. But something about working out regularly makes you feel like you are a lot more attractive than you are.

An unintended side-effect is that I went from having absolutely no sex drive, to having the out of control sexual appetite that is characteristic of the women in my family. Seriously, if we actually get down to it, a lot of the women I'm related to have the same level of interest in sex as a seventeen year old boy.

I have to say, this makes things rather complicated. I was actually rather relieved to find that I was not at all interested in sex after giving birth. My thought process about this was as follows:

I don't want sex--->I don't need a relationship---->I can focus on being a mom---->I can change the way I operate in a relationship before screwing one up again.

Seems logical. But yet here I am, hosting a porno in my brain and fighting strongly against the urges I used to give in to so easily. No, I can't say that sexual thing to that person, because you can't take it back. No, I can't do that without thinking, because it will teach that person that they can treat me that way.

But damnit I WANT TO send that completely inappropriate, explicitly sexual message! It would be FUN! I would feel desired again!

But I have to stop myself. Funny how once you open a door of holding yourself to a low standard, it's hard to close. But I'm not insane. I'm sure that if I continue that behavior I will get the same results. And man, do I not want to live those results over again.

So here's the deal. I'm working on it. I would so much rather be respected and loved than sexually desired, but I'm hoping I can eventually have it all.

Until then, I just have to suck it up, and ignore the blue balls feeling.
*headdesk*

Changes

When you're single, you can have anything in the world. You can do anything in the world, you answer to yourself, and all of life's happiness...parties, education, careers, love, marriage...they're all yours, if you want them.

Of course, the older you are, the less socially acceptable it is to be single.

But when you're a single mom, it's easy to feel like the doors are...not quite as open to you as they once were. And the stigma that comes with...ack. yucky.

Speaking for myself, I seem to realize every day how much harder everything is when you're a mom. I do mean everything. You try taking a trip to the store alone, and then with a baby, and tell me which was easier.

Seeing your child grow and learn is the most wonderful joy in life. But anyone who tells you it's not exhausting, scary, lonely and very difficult is lying to you.

All of this should be common sense, right? I think it's a lot easier to understand these things conceptually than to find yourself living it. And I suddenly feel like I'm either one of two things; I'm a woman with a family, or I'm a plague.

Let me explain.

I imagine some people out there wouldn't mind a woman with a child at all. It's like insta-family. Just add water. Or something like that. The fact that The Boy is number one in my life wouldn't be a bad thing, it would be expected...and even highly respected.

On the other hand, some people would find out I have a son and run in the opposite direction. It's not part of anyone's fantasy...finding a woman with a kid or two, and marrying her. Or at least, if it was, I would be very surprised.

Gone are the dreams of being a stay at home mom forever. What are the chances of finding someone who would not only love and marry someone with a kid, but then support the both of them? I would actually like someone to calculate those odds for me.

I'm not trying to complain here. I couldn't love my son more if I tried, and becoming a mother is something I don't think anyone could ever regret. I have just been thinking about what I wanted before, and how differently things turned out.

Or maybe I'm thinking it might be me and my son alone together forever. Maybe...I'm thinking of all those people I might have been with, but who will probably never look at me the same way. And maybe that hurts a lot more than it should. But being a mother does change you, and your life forever.

And I guess it's time for me to start really dealing with that reality.

Coming Home

The year prior to creating this Blog, I did not write. Through getting pregnant, all of pregnancy, and the weeks just after giving birth, I didn't write at all.

In my life, writing has always been a constant. I have always been one to chronicle thoughts, feelings, events...perhaps afraid that if I didn't, I would forget the importance of the moments. But as much as writing has been part of my life, so has chaos. And in a feeble attempt to wean myself from narcissism (ha!), I decided that I would no longer afford myself the outlet.

See, I have a tendency to get caught up. Life is meant to be lived, but for me, life was meant to be felt. I needed to savor it. The moment I realized I was in love, the first kiss, the confusion, the scent of something and the flood of emotion it could recall...these things were dissected, distorted, drawn out and displayed in my writing. Not only did it become obsessive and intense, it became a huge bloody bore. And there is absolutely nothing like looking back at a piece of writing, and wondering why you were lying to yourself. There is also nothing like looking back and realizing that you don't like yourself very much.

If you want to find someone who is entirely too self-important, self-loathing and overly dramatic, look to a writer.

An ex of mine once forbid me to write. She said that it "allowed me to get too caught up in things, and not move forward or see the big picture." It took a bit of growing up to see that she was right. I was abusing a form of art, and when I realized that I was going to be responsible for another person's life, I decided that going without writing would force me to live it, learn it, and appreciate it. The last thing I wanted to do was drag it out, over analyze, kick around and become so wrapped up in myself that I would continue to always be "in" my head.

I think that this time without writing was very constructive for me. Every day is not a constant turmoil of emotion and sentiment and imagined importance...it's not a show, and I don't need to go to great lengths to make it beautiful.

My son's first smiles in the morning...that is beautiful. And it is every day. The feeling of accomplishment when I finish working out is every day. The flirty smiles and silly sounds during The Boy's bath time are exciting every single day. And it doesn't matter that during that one moment at 4am when I had gotten less than two hours of sleep all night, I felt like I was going to lose my mind. It doesn't matter that every day it gets both harder and easier. It doesn't matter that in some moments I don't understand my life, my decisions, or why I ever thought I could be a good mother. None of these things define my life.

It's those moments...the happy ones. The smiles, the cooing, singing songs and acting silly. I have them now, every day. And I have learned that they will be there, even if I don't write a two page essay about how that one moment reminded me of the importance of my job as a mother, or reminded me just how much it breaks my heart to love someone so much. I have learned to live it, and to appreciate it, every single day.

What A Fixation

So today, Jen over at What The Blog? posted a rather explicit guest blog at The Heir To Blair. Funny how I should come across this now, after a detailed dream or two on the same subject.

So. Blowjobs. Giving head. Call it what you will, it's all the same. Chris Rock once said that there are two types of women; the ones who don't give head, and the ones who "love nothing more than to suck a cock." I'm not so sure this is true, but either way I fall neatly into the latter category...much to the pleasure of my few sexual conquests.

Before you do it, you hear so many things about oral pleasure. That it's awful. It tastes bad. Guys always try to gag you. It hurts your jaw. Those are just a few things I was told (also once had someone pop a ball of playdough in my mouth, then tell me that's what semen tastes like...yum). So when I first decided to try it, I went in expecting to come to the same conclusions. In all honesty, I don't even remember the guy's name for sure now (Adam, maybe?)...I was a young teenager, and wanted to make sure it wasn't someone who A) knew my friends or B) would stick around to want it again (I'm practical that way).

Like those parenthesis, don't I?

So Mr. What's-His-Face had absolutely no idea what my curious and inexperienced teenage mind was up to when he came over to...I don't know. Watch TV? Must have been something like that, because the TV was playing some mindless MTV drama when I quite suddenly decided to get on top of him and unzip his jeans. I can only imagine now what must have been going through his mind. Maybe "holy crap, she's easier than I thought!" or "what the hell is this crazy slut doing?". Or maybe something in between. But suffice it to say, this was not an activity that was discussed prior to execution.

And the execution was...lacking, shall we say? But enticing and enjoyable enough to spark an immediate desire to be good at this. No, not good. GREAT. I wanted to give great blowjobs.

It is not a destination, it is a journey. An on-your-knees, choking, gagging journey that, despite the fact that it may make me rather unusual, is a very consistent and arousing part of my personal fantasies. My dreams create vivid and intensely realistic images and sensations and no, I can't be blamed for this. I can't help that I want to do it.

Shall I regress to teenage years and tell myself that oral sex is not "real" sex? Tempting, but inaccurate. So for now, I fixate in my dreams.
Over. And over. And over....

So Quickly, I Eat My Words

So that's being a new mom, eh? Things you said you wouldn't do, you find you must.

Just days ago, I was going off about my mother saying I need to let my son cry. No way, not my baby! He's too young, that's so wrong!

Well, folks...I take that back. My once happy baby turned into a screaming monster one day, and I was entirely baffled. They can't "manipulate" you until they're months old, right? Well, sorta. What they can do, is cry every time you put them down. Blue-in-the-face, soundless, straining screaming just because you thought "hey, my bladder is going to burst if I don't get to the bathroom RIGHT NOW," and dared to set them in the swing.

I'm not one to want to complain much about motherhood. After all, I am the one who decided to have a child. But after holding him, walking around constantly for days on end (because god forbid you want to sit down while holding him), I was at the end of my rope. I said "fuck this" and set him in the bouncer to scream.

And you know what? It only took him about two minutes to realize that the world was not going to end if I wasn't holding him. Then one funny song and dance from mommy, and the kid is actually smiling. It only takes one good smile from your baby for you to suddenly feel like the luckiest and best mommy in the whole world.

So, I'm basically saying I'm a jackass, and I will no longer throw away advice without proper consideration. Damn this new mom learning curve. And so I leave you with The Boy, picture proof that indeed, he is perfectly fine after a few minutes of screaming. Thank the Lord.

Sex Is My Frenimy

This is the conclusion I came to while talking to an especially put together friend of mine the other day. I told her that sex and I were really close once, then it stabbed me in the back, but I still really like it.

It is already abundantly clear that this will be an oversharing, not so witty post.

The last time I had sex, I got pregnant. It has been nearly a year since then. Being a single mom, I feel like I can no longer have any sex casually. That makes sense to me, because I'm not going to want my LO to see me as that type of woman. It also makes sense because I haven't respected myself enough to wait until someone really cared for or loved me. In all honesty, I didn't believe anyone would, so I said to hell with it, and had sex when I pleased, even when I knew I was not making a good decision.

I am bound and determined to change my behavior, but honestly...I miss the sexy time. Quite a bit, and I'm nowhere near a point where I trust myself to make the right decisions regarding sex OR relationships. So what's a girl to do?

I deeply wish that I had figured this all out before having a child. I can not be trusted to have a healthy relationship. I have never had one, so thinking that I can now, without any proof of having changed my thought process, my emotional stability, my goals and the way I view myself and others...well, that would be insane. And getting into a relationship without very serious consideration would be doing my son an incredible disservice. I don't want to be that type of mom.

Being alone is good for me, now. I have tons of work that I need to do on myself before I can be with anyone else. But how does one do this "work"? Are their guidelines? Is there a twelve-step program? Is there any concrete plan as to how to change your ways, or will being alone and focusing on myself and my son just...do the trick?

So many questions, absolutely no answers.
Can someone please give me some answers?