*Sigh*

I'm not in the best of moods. Just in a funk, I suppose. Haven't really been posting much lately.

I'll get better. I've just kinda been missing Ex lately. It's hard seeing him with someone new. I gave him three years of my life and had a baby with him, after all.

And I get kicked to the curb in return.

Fuck it.

I always had myself classified as one of those, "I don't need no stinkin' man." types. Turns out that yea, maybe I was a bit overconfident in that respect. Not that I NEED a man, per say. Just that I really do like having one around.

Cuddling is nice. Having someone to watch scary movies with is nice. (Because me? I'm a total chicken shit, and I will have to sleep with the lights on if I watch anything alone. Because when I saw Blair Witch Project and went to bed that night, my warped brain totally SAW a hand coming over the edge of the bed to grab me and, omigod, now I'm traumatized.)

Anyway.

I miss him. I've been fighting it but I do indeed miss his sorry ass.

This gets better, right?


P.S. My plants are growing like mad. This makes me slightly happier. Can't wait for flowers to bloom!

Self Pity Bonanza

Today I'm going to whine.

Because yea, guess what I'm doing today? I'm sitting at home. While all my friends go to the beach. And I wanna go to the motherfuckin' beach.

But I can't, as I have no one to watch Little One, and what would I do with a four month old at the beach?

You know, I'm only 22. I still want to DO stuff. I am not really at the point in my life where I am perfectly content sitting at home all day changing diapers and wiping up drool. I dearly love my daughter, of course. And I love spending time with her and watching her goofy grins and watching her try her damndest to sit up and then getting her mad face when she can't.

But still.

That's ALL I DO.

I get out of the house to go grocery shopping. Or to check the mail. Or to go buy diapers.

Step back! I'm crazy and out of control! Put me on motherfuckin' Mommies Gone Wild!

I don't even really like the beach here. The water's a nasty browny-grey color and there's seaweed everywhere and I don't really like how itchy saltwater makes me feel, but that's not the point. The point is, everyone else is going, and when they call to invite me, it's all, "Oh, yea. I guess you don't have a babysitter, huh? That sucks. Well gotta go. Have fun playing peek a boo."

You know?

I know I should be grateful to have my daughter and count my blessings because so many women can't even have kids and so forth. And I am. I really really am.

I just wish I could have maybe a teensy tiny bit of a life, too.

And it's not like I have a husband who can be all, "Oh go take a bath honey, I'll watch her" or "Go out with your friends, we'll be ok for a little bit." (I know, You're probably all laughing hysterically at the idea of a husband that actually does that kinda thing, but this is my fantasy life, kay?) Because my husband? He ran off with some little tramp.

I really don't mean to sound like an ungrateful bitch, it's just some days I sit there making faces at my kiddo and somewhere in the back of my head I'm thinking, Is this all I'm going to do for the rest of my life? Ever? Sit here and make faces and wipe up formula?

I dunno. It's just the 24/7 baby thing with no one around to help or even have an adult conversation with is just kinda getting to me.

*sigh*

I'll be better tomorrow, I promise.

Woot! They Live!

My Morning Glories are growing! Having never had plants before I'm kinda surprised at how giddy I feel seeing those little leaves pop out of the dirt. Soon I shall be one of those people whose porches look like someone transplanted the Amazon outside their front door. You half expect to see a monkey pop out at any second. Yay for me.

Also the dates on this (borrowed) digital camera are not right. And I have no clue how to fix it. Oh well.

I got tagged for a meme by this lady.

The gist, I believe, is that you link to five bloggers you've never linked to before.

So, in no particular order:

1. Boobs, Injuries and Dr. Pepper

2. Attack Of The Redneck Mommy

3. random mommy. limited cleverness.

4. Joy Unexpected

5. Irreverent Antisocial Intellectual


There we go. Since I amaze one and all with my laziness I tag EVERYONE! I hereby declare this a meme free for all. Have at it.

Little One has topped 11 pounds! She gained 10 ounces in 1 week! So those docs can shove it up their you-know-what. She is just going to be dainty and that's all there is to it.

Plant Madness!

I got plants! Yay me. I know it's lame but there's not a single plant in this house and I felt it was high time I added some. Ivys are tough, right? Cause I'm plant retarded.

If you all promise not to have heart attacks I might post some pictures of my snakes next. They're pretty, I promise.

Anyway that's about it from me. Little One is finally packing on weight, yay for her!

I have actually begun speaking via myspace messages to Ex's chic. (She made the first move). He better watch out, we're going to start comparing notes and wind up kicking his ass. It's not really a friendship per say so much as a "Why's he doing this?!" kind of thing. I am, after all, the expert on his asshole ways. I think he's cheating on her. Kharma's a bitch, for sure.

Uhg, that's about it for me.

To Hell With Dial Up, Anyway

So I haven't been posting much. The battle dial up requires to do the simplest damn things just annoys me too much to struggle into my account most days.

Anyway, not too much going on here. Ex has started trying to turn this whole thing around on me by insisting that I have cheated on him with an old guy friend of mine that I've been friends with since eighth grade. Which I didn't. But I suppose it makes him feel better to try and turn things around on me so that he doesn't have to feel bad.

Whatever.

People with road rage need to, you know, not drive, because the crappy Honda Civic that tried to swerve back and forth in front of me and motioned for me to pull over so the four ghetto fabulous guys in it could get out and whip my ass or whatever, while my daughter is in the car, yea, they need to not be on the road. My meek little Chevy Malibu stomped their ass in my daring getaway, though. Let them take that back to cracktown and tell their homies. Uhg.

Anybody else have unfufilled dreams? When I was about to graduate, my friend and I were planning to take off across the country on a whirlwind tour of the national parks. I have a yearning to see nature and trees and smell fresh air so deep it almost pains me. I long to hike up a mountain and look out across a green valley and actually breath smog free air and listen to the sounds of nature without hearing cars and sirens and crap. Sadly, the trip didn't work out. What with one thing and another I ended up having to work full time to pay bills since SOMEONE *coughexcough* couldn't hold down a job, so I never got to take my road trip. I was staring at a RV the other day just daydreaming away about using the money from when I finally sell the house to buy one and just take off.

I know I can't.

But it's nice to dream, isn't it?

Anyone else have stuff they never got to do?

Back Again

Well I'm back!

I'm temporarily using crappy dial up *uhg* so it's amazingly irritating slogging through pages at the speed of smell-but at least I'm online again.

All is well here. Little One and I are doing fine, though we did have a scare when her new doctor found a heart murmer and we had to whisk her off to the cardiologist for testing, but nothing is wrong. Just a small, benign heart murmer, no holes or leaks or anything.

Other than that it's been the same old wildly boring life.

Really, I can't much think of anything to post about. I have a mild case of writer's block at the moment. Someone tag me for a meme or something, please!

All Is Well

Just thought I would let you guys know-all is well with the doctor fiasco. No one besides Old Fart is the least bit worried about my parenting, My doctor referred me to a different clinic that Little One will be going to from now on, gave them all another talking to, and all I have to do is let the social services lady know that I am, indeed, taking her to the doctor to be checked out.

No one's coming to do a visitation or taking my daughter.

If they had, you guys wouldn't be hearing from me anymore because I'd have killed them all Ninja style and run away to hide in the mountains, daughter in tow.

Amazingly enough my internet has stayed on all this time but they actually are gonna turn it off in the next day or two, so don't worry if I disappear for a bit. All is well.


Why does Blogger think internet needs to be capitalized? I refuse.

And you know what pisses me off? I had this dream last night about a guy I worked with at my old job. I had the biggest crush on him. He was so freaking hot...tall, blond, nice rock hard abs, and tattooed...just sexy as all hell....

.....

Wait, what were we talking about?

Oh, the dream. Right, right.

Anyway.

So I'm in the midst of this dream, and we're SO about to get it on, and then I just get up and walk off.

And then do you know what my dream self does? I go up to Ex (who's suddenly there) and have this whole talk about how I couldn't possibly do Hot Guy, because I'd never want to be with another guy, ever.

HE EVEN RUINS MY DREAMS, THE SORRY ASS.

Uhg.

Talk About Jumping The Gun

So I spent most of last night researching this whole "failure to thrive" crap that the Old Asshat tried to pin on my daughter, and you know what?

She doesn't have any of the symptoms. Not ONE.

She isn't below the fifth fucking percentile in weight, she's at the 25th. Below average a bit, but nothing to warrant the crap he pulled.

She's right on target with her height and her mental and social development. She does everything a baby her age is supposed to do.

She's not unresponsive or excessively sleepy, she doesn't avoid eye contact. Nothing.

So basically an exam that should have led to a normal conversation about how we could get her to up her weight a bit led to accusations of neglect and threats of having CPS take my baby.

When I go back today I'm getting that fucker's name and I am filing a complaint. This shit is ridiculous.

Not to mention, hello, I'm not exactly big myself. I'm 5'3 and before I got pregnant I weighed about 100 pounds soaking wet. Pregnancy was the only thing that's ever made me gain weight my entire life. And I've already burned off 30 of the 50 pounds I gained without even fucking exercising. My mom was tiny when she was young, my aunt is tiny, her daughter is tiny, my sister is tiny. DOES ANYONE ELSE SEE A PATTERN HERE?

I swear I feel like I'm going to burst a blood vessel.

Anyway, in better news, I got reviewed by the ladies at So Many Blogs, So Little Time.

Nothing like an awesome review to boost your spirits.

Old Man River Needs To Retire

Holy lord, what a fucking day.

Little One had a doctor's appointment today. When they weighed her it turns out she is a bit below where she should be weight wise. So we go in for her physical exam.

Here's where it all goes downhill.

Right off the bat I notice the doctor is a bit, well, old. But I think to myself, hey, grandfatherly, and let it go.

He starts the exam. Checks her tummy, shines the little light in her eyes, looks in her mouth.

"How are her bowel movements?" he asks.

"Fine."

He again grabs the little light. Shines it in her eyes again. Checks her tummy again. Looks in her mouth again.

"And how are her bowel movements?"

Blink. "Um, they're fine."

He grabs the light AGAIN. Shines it in her eyes. AGAIN. Checks her tummy. AGAIN. Looks in her mouth. AGAIN.

"How are her bowel movements?"

I stare. "They're just FINE." I say loudly. Maybe Methuselah here didn't hear me the first two times.

And oh my god, he grabs the light A-FUCKING-GAIN. He proceeds to examine my daughter for the fourth fucking time in a row, going through the whole thing as if he hadn't just done it three god damn times. This is not a recheck. I realize this guy has got to be wavering in and out because he obviously doesn't remember doing it FIVE SECONDS AGO.

And then.

"How are her bowel movements?"

I'm not joking.

Finally he seems to be done with her so I dress her and snatch her up before he can have at her again. He then sits down at the desk. I huddle next to the wall, cradling my daughter, and stare at him. I'm already running through what I'm going to say to whatever mother fucker is in charge of this clinic. He ruffles through the paper and starts talking to the nurse, who was conveniently out of the room for the deja vu exam. He talks about how she hasn't gained any weight, at all, not one once, since her last visit. He sits and glares at me as I explain that that is not true, I had gone through this before and they had mistakenly written the wrong weight down at the first visit, then re-weighed her. Apparently it didn't get changed on paper because according to his records, she weighs exactly the same as she did before. I patiently go through the story again.

He glares at me and snaps, "Well, it doesn't matter, because she's still not where she needs to be."

He then turns to the nurse and tells her she needs to go get Sheila.

Sheila comes in. He proceeds to tell her the same bullshit about how she weighs the same as she did before, with me trying to interject the actual truth of the matter and him loudly talking over me.

And then.

"I think she needs to be seen at the Children's Medical Center Emergency Room."

"Emergency room?!" I say loudly. "What?!"

Sheila stares at him and starts to say how she really doesn't think that's necessary (since she has actually listened to what I've been trying to say all along, that it's their records that have gotten fucked up) and this mother fucker interrupts her to say this:

"And I think we need to bring CPS into this."

Holy fucking shit, no you did not.

I stand. I'm so pissed off that I don't know whether I'm going to scream, cry, or punch him in his horrible old man face.

"That's IT!" I growl. I fix Sheila with a look. "I need to talk to someone. NOW. ALONE." I give Old Fuck my best glare. I'm so completely freaked out and mad that I'm shaking.

So we cross the hall, and guess what? Sheila's a social worker. Surprise, surprise. I sit down. I'm about thisclose to bursting into hysterical, terrified crying.

I tell her the story of the exam from hell. I tell her no way in hell is my child going back in the room, that if they are worried about my child's welfare I will go to another doctor, ANY doctor, but not him. She placates me, tells me about how she had the same problem with her child, and that they told her the same thing, and how she stared them in the face and told them that she worked for CPS, and why the hell would she be abusing her own child?

The nutritionist is called in too, the same one that went through the weighing ordeal with us last time, and thank god she remembers us and backs up what I've been saying.

My doctor that I went to (who is a senior member of the nursing staff there) also comes swooping in at this point to inform them that she will vouch for me personally and write a letter to anyone who wants one informing them of the fact. She fixes the social worker and the nutritionist with an icy glare and repeats what she said, just for emphasis. They tell her that they are not concerned about my parenting in the least and that all they are concerned about is getting Little One up to par weight wise. She snorts, gives me a hug, tells me to call her if I need ANYTHING (insert another icy glare at the two) and swoops out.

So now I get to write down the time and amount of every feeding until she goes back to the doctor on Monday.

I am still so mad I am shaking. Letting a fucking senile old man examine my daughter and then threatening to call CPS because his doddering old man brain can't focus on one thing at a time? What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK?

I just don't know what to say about today. I'm done.

Mission Impossible

Well, I finally did it.

Today, I tried to fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans.

I was hopeful at first. Everyone I see comments on how I lost my pregnancy weight so fast. So I figured hey, it's been two months. Time to break out the old wardrobe. I can do this. Piece of cake.

So I lay them out on the bed and eyeball them. Never before had they looked so tiny.

Alright, I say to myself. Let's do this.

Feet go in. Pause. I grab the waist of those sons of bitchs and begin the shimmy dance.

You all know the shimmy dance, don't you? The side to side wiggle as you inch those bastards up your legs? You know.

I hit the thighs. Pause. Deep breath.

Shimmy, shimmy.

Pause.

What the hell?

SHIMMY SHIMMY SHIMMY.

I-shimmy-can-shimmy-do-shimmyshimmy-THIS!

Pant, pant.

Yank-shimmy-pull-yank-shimmyshimmyshimmy.

And they're up.

Ha! Victory is mine! screams the voice of Stewie Griffin in my brain.

Uh oh. I have to button these bastards, don't I?

Pause. Stare. Firmly grasp both sides and pull. Pull.

Pull, woman, pull! Suck it in! SUCK IT IN!

Pant, pant.

Faintly realize that your hips are just not the same size as they were and probably never will be again. One last futile tug.

Sigh. Admit defeat.

Shimmy dance in reverse.

Grumble to self as you put your Fatty McFatass sweatpants back on.

Plan depressing shopping trip tomorrow as you ponder the trauma of trying to figure out what the hell jeans size you wear now.

File this away in the "No one told me this part" portion of your brain.

Sigh.

I'd Like To Thank The Academy....

Woot! I got my first blog award! Bestowed upon me by the wonderful and gracious Cyndi.

Thank you, awesome lady! I'll try to control my giddiness so I can post the rules:


The directions I was given are these: 1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think, 2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme, 3. Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote.


My nominees are all wonderful women. They will make you think, make you ponder your own life, leave you nodding your head in agreement on a daily basis, and are just all around awesome chics. All are a daily read of mine (when I can get to the net) and all are well worth the time. Go! Read them!

1. Memoirs Of A Dysfunctional Housewife


2. Dancing Through


3. Motherhood Uncensored


4. A Girl And A Boy


5. Mommies Are People, Too

Rant-O-Rama

Nothing like browsing through Craig's List for about an hour to make you want to BITCH your head off. Some days, I don't feel like making the effort to be nice. I get sick and tired of telling everyone that I'm doing ok. Today was one of those days where I woke up with my bitch switch (ha ha ha, I rhyme) flipped on high.

To the lady who SPEARED MY CHILD:

Yes, I know she had to have her shots. But this ain't the fuckin' Olympics and it is not the javelin throw. All that was missing was a running start. Soup up your technique a bit, yea? Because if you give her a shot that way again, I'll give into my mommy urge and punch you in your over sized nose.

To Ex's Whore:

What on God's green earth makes you think I want to be friends with you?! Hello, we tried that, and you FUCKED AROUND WITH MY HUSBAND. I do believe that takes you out of the potential friend runnings. No, I do not want to be civil, either. I do not want to lay eyes on your stupid slut face ever again, because I may well remove it. No, my child cannot come visit you. In your sad, strange, pathetic little world, this may fulfill your fantasies of you and Ex being a family, but I do not want my daughter in your presence. Grow up. I hate you. I am not a Buddhist and I lack Zen, but I do hold grudges. For-ev-er. That's the way it will be, and if you really are dumb enough to come to my house in an effort to "work things out", I will give you precisely five seconds to vacate the area, and then I will proceed to take you apart. I wouldn't risk it if I were you. And by the way, he doesn't give a shit about you. Sorry about that. Wait, no I'm not. It's called karma, bitch.

To Ex:

What is the matter with your brain? You do NOT love me. That was made abundantly clear. Getting cold feet now that you have ruined any chance we had of making it, are you? Well, too damn bad. I was the best thing that ever happened to you, and you fucked me over. I will never trust you again. I do not want to be with you. Thinking of you and what you did makes me ill. I am sorry that you didn't realize how much I meant to you when we were still together, when there was time to fix what was wrong, but that is not my fault. I spent three years giving you second chances. That time is over. Stop doing this so I can move on with my life.

To Ex's Male Friends:

Jesus, why am I suddenly such a prime piece of ass?! What makes you think I want to date/sleep with you now that I'm single? Leave me alone! You are not suddenly irresistible to me now that he is out of the picture! Argh! No I will not do you to get revenge on him! What kind of friends are you anyway?



Wow, I feel better. Cleansed, really. Some days, you just have to be a bitch. The only good part of today was when I watched Anchorman and laughed like a loon whenever Will Ferrel goes, "Why don't you go back to your home on Whore Island!" That man is a laugh riot.

Well, I thought it was funny.

This Is Why I Hate Cats.

Today was just great. What with my house nearly burning down and all.

I went out to go grocery shopping earlier, taking Little One with me. My grandmother was still here at the house. So I go, get the shopping done, swing by and check the mail, and then head home. On the way up the stairs I thought to myself, "Something smells like burning."

Sure enough I open the front door and smoke billows out at me. My grandmother is sitting on the couch, oblivious.

"What the hell is burning?!" I shriek.
"Burning? Nothing's burning." says Grandma.

So I bundle Little One out onto the patio and go rampaging around the house. Stove? No. Toaster? No. Microwave? Nope. Cigarette burning on the floor? Don't see one.

Finally I get to my room and spot the source of the problem. Turns out while I was gone that damn idiot of a cat had decided it would be fun to play with the heat light on top of my snake's cage. He had knocked it off onto the floor. Now these lights aren't like regular light bulbs. They get HOT. You know how hot those halogen lights they use in shops or for fishing get? Comparable to that. And the motherfucker's sitting right on the floor.

So, I kick it away, run into the kitchen and fill up a pitcher with water, run back down the hall, douse the smoldering ruin of carpet, and survey the damage. It had burned a hole six inches across through the carpet, the padding, and was charring the wood underneath. How on God's green earth the floor didn't burst into flames I'll never know. I suspect it would have if I'd been gone any longer.

And grandma didn't realize anything was wrong.

This is why she lives with me know. This isn't the first fire incident she's had. She's been known to leave pots of food burning to death on the stove and light ashtrays on fire when putting out a cigarette on the paper towel she inexplicably had in it.

So, I've spent the last three hours sitting outside with the kiddo while the house airs out. And it smells like motherfucking burned carpet in my room now. And I have a huge, charred hole in the floor that I do not know how to explain to the apartment manager. And the cat wisely refuses to emerge from beneath the bed because he knows I have it in for him.

What a life.

I Was A Teenage Idiot

Oh, my. The memories this post brings back.

I think I might have mentioned somewhere before that I went through a phase for about a year when I was teenager where I was drunk or stoned pretty much any time I wasn't in school. I had a group of friends that I had started hanging out with that, while good friends, weren't exactly the best influence. Now I was never really one to cave into peer pressure, it's just that being around it all the time made me curious. So I fell into the same habits they did.

Getting stoned? Sure. BAD experiences. First time I did it, I stumbled around feeling nauseous and as though I was going to die for 2 hours before eating three toast sandwiches (just toast...nothing else. No butter, no nothing.) and a bowl of potato salad and falling asleep after shrieking at my then-boyfriend NOT TO TOUCH ME EVER AGAIN OR I'D DIE. Another time (having not learned from my first experience, evidently) my friend and I managed, WITHOUT EITHER OF US KNOWING, to get hold of weed that had been laced with CRYSTAL METH. I shit you not. I was totally out of it for 12 fuckin' hours, during which I nearly put my eye out when I broke a string on my guitar after trying to play Stairway To Heaven (because , you know, I was a guitar MASTER suddenly) squinted at the radio for half an hour trying to figure out why all the music was playing too fast, and annoyed the large group of friends who were babysitting us both by repeatedly asking when this shit would wear off. About nine million times a minute.

After that, I quit smoking. I was a bit reckless but not a complete idiot.

But drinking? Yea. Drinking was still fair game. I'm sure I don't remember most of the very dumbest things I did while drunk, as I got the black out experience more than once. There is nothing quite so embarrassing as waking up in your bed and hearing stories about how your friends had to carry you home and clean up vomit from various places. The first time I kissed Ex? Yea, I was blacked out. Can't remember it to save my life. As a matter of fact I woke up the next day wondering why I suddenly had a crush on him. I suppose I should have realized this boded ill for the rest of the relationship, but alas, I did not. Another time I decided I just HAD to walk home and sleep in my own bed (at 3 AM, when everyone else was asleep) so I set off. I do not remember anything about walking home, but when I woke up the next day I was in my bed, covered in mud and with a hole in my shirt. Turns out I somehow managed to cross a six lane highway, scale a six foot board fence, fall into a ditch and most amazingly of all, get home without being arrested.

Luckily for me I was always around a group of friends who took care of me if they had to and watched out for me. They interfered more than once on my behalf with scuzzy boyfriends trying to take advantage of my inebriated state. For that I am very thankful.

Whenever I look back at all this I cringe. Oh, how I cringe. The times I should have gotten arrested or hospitalized defy the imagination. I cannot believe how dumb I was. And considering my parents were dead and I lived with my grandmother, who was blissfully clueless to all this and let me come and go as I pleased...I'm honestly amazed I didn't come to more harm.

Thankfully I had a streak of common sense just big enough to prevent myself from going totally over the edge. And eventually I realized I was wasting my time and acting like an idiot, and I got a job and quit doing quite as many stupid things.

And now I have a daughter. And while her teenage days are still a comfortable distance away, I still get nervous. Because when it comes down to it, it is the kid that has to make their own decisions. Unless I keep her locked away in a closet, odds are she will run into some of the same situations I did. And while I can impart to her my suggestions and thoughts and advice and rules, in the end it's up to her. If she wants to do something, she'll find a way to do it. I'm not naive enough to think she won't. Teenagers are devious that way. I just hope she inherits less of my teen recklessness and a bit more of my common sense and self preservation.

And my luck, because lord knows I must have had quite a bit of it.

A Bit Of All Right

So, anyway, I'm doing better. SOMEDAY I will quit boring you all with my endless mopings about being dumped. I am still a little stressed, of course. But it's getting better.

In other news I had SO MUCH FUN on my weekend off, I spent it with my two best friends and we got drunk and talked. And talked. And talked. We analyzed music, discussed why James Hetfield from Metallica should never have gone sober, why guys like lesbians, psychoanalyzed the weirdness that is my friend's brain, discussed why I am so much better off without Ex and what a whore his new chic is, swapped very strange sex facts ( a guy will ejaculate roughly three gallons of sperm in a lifetime...blech ) and reminisced about our wild, carefree teenage days and how we've all grown up(Sort of). All in all it was exactly what the doctor ordered, and despite my mental breakdown in the last post it really helped lift my spirits.

The only bad moment was when I puked (blame it on malt liquor, I should stick to the hard stuff) and it was RED, and OMG, I thought I was HEMORRHAGING, but then realized that the Captain Morgans I'd been drinking all night was red. Ahem.

Also had a rather disturbing moment earlier this week when I opened the refrigerator to find a dirty diaper next to the milk. WHAT? The only thing I can imagine is that my 86 year old grandmother (who is blind as a bat) thought it was some sort of food thing and put it in there. I didn't ask. I can safely say that it was the first time I've ever had to relocate a refrigerated diaper.

Is it NORMAL for a almost two month old to have perfected her glare already? Because some of the looks she gives me when she's crying are positively bone-chilling. I fear she has inherited her father's temper. God help us all.

And you guys! Still reading even though my lack of posts has been horrid. Lacking the internet it's not feasible for me to be able to post everyday, but I'll try to get one or two a week up, if possible. And when I get everything caught up bill wise I'll be back to normal. So thanks for hanging in there! And I saw I was tagged for a couple of memes but alas I don't have the time to get to them just now. I promise I will do them eventually.

A Bit Overwhelmed

Sometimes, it's all a bit much to handle.

I'm reaching the point where I've recovered enough to start thinking about finding a job, and how I'm going to have to find a day care for little one. How I'm going to have to find a smaller apartment because I can't afford this one alone. How I'm going to have to face this all on my own.
It scares me.

Everyone seems to think I am such a strong person and that I can do this but I don't FEEL strong. I feel helpless and panicked. I feel like everything is weighing me down and slowly smothering me. When I look ahead at the rest of my life, the only bright spot in it is my daughter. The rest of it seems like an endless line of bill paying, working a job I hate, and struggling.

I just don't know how to deal with it all.

Some days I just want to curl up in a ball and cover my head with a blanket and cry.

They May Take Our Lives, But They'll Never Take Our Freedom!!

Sorry. I've been watching Braveheart. God, I love a Scottish accent. Yum.

Anyway, mommy's going out this weekend! Ex's parents are watching little one for the weekend so that I can go out and de-stress. And it just so happens to be St. Paddy's day Saturday too.

Fake Irish accents anyone?

Anyway, I plan to get sloshed and not think about a damn thing but having fun.

FYI, like I said before, this may be my last posting for a while, since the Internet's gone any day now. Don't lose faith, loyal readers, I shall return. In the meantime I'll try to get to the library once or twice.

Digging Up The Past

Most people that I know do not know how my mother died.

A lot of people that I know do not even know that my parents are dead.

Whenever anyone asks, I usually just kind of skirt the question, or say something about how we don't get along.

I don't really know why this is. I guess it is because I don't want their pity, or to hear the ever present "I'm so sorry." I don't want to see the look they would give me if I told them that my father died of a heart attack when I was seven, and that my mother killed herself when I was sixteen.

She had left me and my little sister at home one day to go to work, and never came home that night. Or the next. Or the next. Apparently, she was done with us, and decided to stay at a boyfriend's house in the town that she worked at, rather than come home to her kids. Two months went by. I heard from her once, when she called to say she was coming by to pick something up. (I was living with my grandmother by now, and my little sister was living with my aunt in the same town where my mom was working) On the day she was supposed to come by, I made sure I was gone. I was angry with her for not coming home, for not calling, even on my birthday. So I left.

I never saw her again.

About two weeks after that, right before Christmas, my aunt called to tell me my mother had died. She wouldn't tell me how on the phone. She said she needed to tell me face to face.

The night before, my mom had called my aunt around 1 in the morning, telling her she needed to come get my sister (who was staying with her for the night). She wouldn't say why. When my aunt went over to the house, there was no answer. The door was unlocked, so my aunt walked in. She found my mom. My mother had put a shotgun in her mouth.

My little sister (3 at the time) was asleep in another room, thankfully. She hadn't woken up. I am very grateful for that.

To this day, we're not sure why she did it. there was no note, no warning. She had seemed fine earlier that day. She'd always had a drinking problem, so we suspect she was drunk, upset about something, and decided to take her life rather than try to get help.

My mom had tried to kill herself once before that, when I was 13. She downed a bottle of sleeping pills and half a bottle of wine and went to bed. Somehow, she woke up, and I realized something was wrong when she came stumbling into the living room, incoherent, and tried to make a phone call with my sister's sippy cup. I called 911, she went to the hospital and had her stomach pumped, all was well. She seemed to be fine afterwards. Everything went back to normal.

Looking back, I realize someone should have made her get help. But no one did.

I'm spilling all this I guess because today I realized that it's about time to let God back into my life, and I wanted to give a little background on why He hasn't been in it for a long time. I lost what little faith I had when my mom died. But this morning, when I went to check the mail, I had one of those hokey church letters. You know the kind, where they ask you to return a card or something similar so that the church can pray for you and help Jesus into your life. For some reason, instead of throwing it out, I did it. Some small voice inside me just told me it was something I should do. So I wrote down what I needed prayers for, which right now is money, and sent it off. I am barely scraping by this month, so close that I probably won't be blogging for a couple of weeks, as we need lights and a car more than the Internet. My cell phone got turned off yesterday, leaving me no way to call anyone for anything since we don't have a house phone.

Except earlier today my cell phone came back on.

I did not pay the bill. Ex did not pay the bill. No one paid it. But it is on and paid for nonetheless.

I know some would say big deal, so your cell phone is on. But how often do you hear about bills paying themselves? Maybe I am reading too much into this, but that coupled with the fact that I just sent off a letter to a church this morning after years of being ambivalent at best about God, maybe it is something.

Maybe Someone is trying to tell me He's there to help me. That I'm not as alone as I've been feeling.

I'd like to think so.

No Need For Violence

So I was thinking about it today, and I realized something.

For the past week I have thought a lot about hunting his little bitch down and beating the crap out of her for the crap she pulled. But then I figured something out.

She's a fucking kid.

I told you she was 18, right? Well, there are 18 year olds that are adults and there are 18 year olds that, well, aren't. She is the latter of the two. I see how she talks to him in her messages ("Baby you're so hott. I love you!" ) She is still very much in a high school relationship frame of mind. She doesn't know what it is to have a grown up relationship with grown up problems. She still lives with mommy and daddy and has all her stuff paid for. She doesn't even have a job.

And I figure one day, down the road, she will get married, settle down, and have a family, and then she will look back on this and wonder what the hell she thought she was doing. She will think about how she would feel if some little tart was to come along and do the same thing to her.
Right now, she doesn't realize that. She is very much a spoiled brat, so she sees something she wants and goes for it, no thought to the consequences or how her actions affect others.

So why should I kick her ass? It might make me feel better, no doubt about that, but my point still won't be made. She is too young and immature to realize what she has done. Beating the snot out of her won't solve that, and will probably just get me thrown in jail.

So I guess I'll just let it go and let her learn her own lessons. Much as I wish I could just clock her in the face, there's just no point to it. Let her play her games and have her fun.

Unless she tries to start something with me.

In which case it's on.

I might be older and wiser, but I'm not a martyr.

And by the way; everyone calm down. I'm not gonna get back with him. I'm allowed a moment of weakness, aren't I? I'm just still adjusting to all this, that's all.

Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned

It's time for a confession.

Oh, you guys are gonna be so mad at me.

So Ex has been coming around the last few days, to bring me groceries and run other little errands. We said when we split up that we were going to keep it civil for Little One's sake. And we've been getting along pretty well.

And he's started talking about getting back together. He is saying how he was an idiot to let me go, to pull the gone all the time shit, to leave me for HER. She, apparently, is a raving nutter. She's already telling him she loves him, that they should get a place together (she lives with her mom-did I mention she's only 18? Ex is only 21, so it's not sicko or anything, but still) that she doesn't want him to pull out.

Yes, that's exactly what I'm talking about. Can you say crazy?

So now that he's seen her psychosis, I think he is really regretting what he's done.

Here's the confession part-I've actually been considering it. *ducks*

I KNOW. I know, I am being a raging idiot. Of course since she didn't turn out to be his dream girl, he's gonna come crawling back to me. What happens when the next little tart comes around? What happens when he doesn't change his ways, like he swears he will? And I hate myself for even considering it.

It's just so damn hard, this single mom bit. I miss him. A lot. Sitting here with my insomniac self, night after night, is driving me insane. It's so fucking LONELY here with just me and the wee one. No one to talk to (that possesses a vocabulary, anyway) no one to watch movies with, no one to cuddle me. The nights just DRAG by. I know I should be strong but when it's just me here, listening to the deafening silence, waiting for dawn to roll around, well...anything seems better than that.

And I still love him. So much. I can't help that. He is the first guy that I've had a truly serious relationship with. He made me feel beautiful, and smart, and awesome. He gave me self confidence, made me believe it was possible for someone to love me back, that I wouldn't always be the lover and not the loved. And I know that if he came along, then it's possible for someone else to come along. Right now though, I just don't WANT anyone else.

Deep down, though, I don't really believe him when he says he will change, and that things will be better, like they were when we first got together. I don't think they will. And there is a tiny little part of me that doesn't care. Very tiny, but it's there. That sad, pathetic little part of my being is willing to take whatever he dishes out just to have him back again. That is the part I am trying to squash, because it scares me.

I know I have to be strong for my daughter. She doesn't need to grow up with a father who is going to be gone all the time and hurt her mommy. Not too long from now she will be old enough to realize something is wrong with how daddy acts. And I don't want her to have to go through that. I don't want her to feel abandoned or like he doesn't love her.

I just wish I could fix him. I wish I could make him not put his own selfish needs and desires before his family. Because I know I can't take him back just because I am missing him like crazy. God, part of me wants to so badly, but there is another, larger part that wants to protect my daughter from hurt, like my mother never did. That is the part that is going to have to come out on top, for both our sakes.

I just hope it gets better soon. Right now I feel completely overwhelmed.

And yes, eventually I will shut the fuck up about this whole thing. I'm just trying to work my way through it, and this blog is helping me do that, along with all the wonderful messages and support I've been getting. Thanks again, you guys. You're awesome.

Aw, Crap

So I woke up this morning and I realized-how am I going to get laid now?

Yea, I know. It should be the last thing on my mind, but now that my downstairs no longer feels like someone set off an M80 in there, my libido has been slowly making a comeback. It's not like I woke up feelin' frisky or anything. It was just a sort of random observation.

I am used to having booty on call. Now what?

It's not like I couldn't. I know there are calls I could make to get some tail. (God, now I sound like a hooker.) Old exes, friends that would, ahem, probably oblige me, being guys and all. But I don't want to just have a one nighter. That's never really been my thing. Call me old fashioned, but I like to have a little emotional attachment with those I sleep with.

It's just one of the many things that I have to get used to after taking it for granted for so long. Along with taking the trash out myself, going to check the mail, cleaning the cat box (one perk of pregnancy that I miss, no cat poopies to scoop), washing the car.

Sigh.

Being single is a pain in the rear.

And one of my neighbors is playing Sarah McLachlan FAR too loud.

Ah well. At least they aren't playing the oboe again.

New And Improved

So, I decided the dark, dreary layout needed to go. Time for something more light and airy and cheery. Thus the butterflies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Free to good home: One cat, male, intact.

Prone to bouts of sudden psychosis that may include: sudden unexplained rampages throughout house; running headfirst into sliding glass doors and/or walls; trying to fit entire body down bath tub drain; stealing baby's socks, hats, and mittens to drag under the depths of the bed, never to be seen again; refusing to let owner use restroom without an escort; refusing to let owner bathe without attempting to sit on top of her head; obsession with wires; chewing on cell phone antennas.

Is cute and fluffy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In other news, Little One is smiling and cooing now. Seeing her beautiful little grin and holding "conversations" with her is really helping me cope. It's so awesome that she's starting to show her personality more and not being just a little blob of poop and hunger cries. Can't wait for that first belly laugh!

Of Beatings And Bimbos

So, yea.

I've been coping. That first night was H-A-R-D. But I got through it. And the one after that. I haven't cried at all today, so that's news.

All hell broke loose earlier. A friend of mine that I haven't talked to in a while because Asshole ( aka ex husband) hates him (and forbade me to talk to him) came over with this chick I kinda know but not very well to give me some nice information about how Asshole was cheating on me before we broke up and is now shacking up with the same silly tramp. Anyway, as we were sitting on the porch smoking who should come walking up but Asshole himself.

Friend: You know, that kinda sounded like his car.

Me: Nah, it's not. He is over at...oh, shit.

And then Asshole comes out, posturing and getting in his face and asking him what he was doing at his house (HIS house? Say what?! You don't live here anymore, sir) and then proceeded to beat the shit out of him.

Really. My friend is kind of a wussy and he just kinda sat there and let himself get beaten. He didn't even throw a punch back.

Bleh. But that was my damn entertainment for the evening. At least the cops weren't called.

Oh, and this is the message I sent to that silly tramp he's with:

"I just wanted you to know that you're a two faced low life bitch. And a fucking chickenshit at that, since you couldn't even tell me the truth when I asked you if anything was going on with you and Asshole. I know this shit was going on before we broke up so quit trying to deny it. What kind of pathetic excuse for a person can act like they are someone's friend, babysit their child, and then fuck around with their husband on the side? Oh wait, that'd be you. It's no wonder you don't have any fucking friends given the kind of person you are. So I hope you feel really great about yourself, you homewrecking bitch. You're fucking pathetic. Hell, if I didn't hate you so much I'd probably feel sorry for you. It must suck to be such a shitty person and friend. And by the way, stay the fuck away from me and out of my house if you know what's good for you, because if I fucking see you you're not gonna know what hit you."

Whatcha think?

Too much?

I don't really care if it WAS petty and I should've taken the high road, not stooped to her level, yadda yadda.

Sometimes petty feels damn good. And I'm kinda hoping she gets shitty with her reply cuz, OH, how I would love to knock her teeth down her throat.

Pieces

He's gone.

When he came home today, we talked. And it's over. The explanation he gives for the way he's been acting is that he wanted to leave me before I ever got pregnant. After I was pregnant he said he decided to try to stay and work it out. But that he can't. So, somehow, instead of me kicking him out, he dumps me.

I've been living a lie for damn year a near now. Or he has anyway. Funny how his desire to break up with me didn't extend far enough to stop having sex with me.

So he is gone. I can't quite believe it. I feel like someone hit me with a bat, right in the face. Like someone is tearing me apart from the inside out. I keep wandering around the house, feeling lost. I thought I would take it better than this, but as soon as I closed the door after him, and locked it, it hit me. He is gone. There is no working this out. It's over. I tell you, my king sized bed never looked so freaking huge, now that I am going to be sleeping there alone.

I have spent nearly every day of the last three years with this guy, and now he won't be there anymore. I will wake up alone, and go to sleep alone.

His dad is so angry with him for this, he told him he's not welcome in his house anymore.

I can only imagine what his sister will say. She will probably come down and beat the shit out of him herself.

I know I have other people that love me and the baby, and they are all willing to support me and help me out all they can. But right now, that doesn't make me feel better. Right now, all I can think is how much this fucking hurts.

The List O' Books, And A Question

I got this idea here.

Since I'm an avid bookworm, and desperately needed a change from the marital posting (which I don't feel up to talking about at the moment) I figured what the heck. Without further ado:

In the list of books below, bold the ones you’ve read, italicize the ones you want to read, cross out the ones you won’t touch with a ten-foot pole (I don't know how to cross out, so I'll underline the ones I won't touch -- there aren't many), put a cross (+) in front of the ones on your book shelf, and asterisk (*) the ones you’ve never heard of.

1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown) Maybe I’ll watch the movie first.
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. +Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell) So much better than the movie.
5. +The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien) Read these in fifth grade.
6. +The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. +The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien) 8. + Anne of Green Gables (L. M. Montgomery)
9. *Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10. *A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11. +Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling) Oh, how I love Harry Potter. Awesome books.
12. *Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. +Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. *A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden) Bleh.
16. +Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. *Fall on Your Knees (Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18.+ The Stand (Stephen King) – Yea, it was long. But really, really good.
19. +Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. +The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J. D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. *The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26.+ The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams) 27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. +The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis) 29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. *Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert) Not really my cup of tea.
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks) I hear the movie is good.
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. +1984 (Orwell) Everyone should read this book.
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. *The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True (Wally Lamb) 39. *The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. *The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel) 42. *The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible
46. *Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt) 49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card) 54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. *The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. +Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling) 58. *The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood) 60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. *The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolstoy)
64. +Interview with the Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. *Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding)
72. *Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett) 76. *The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. *The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. *Not Wanted On the Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. *Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. *Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down (Richard Adams) -- One of my all time favorites.
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. *Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. *In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. +Lord of the Flies (Golding) Awesome. 93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S. E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield) Ick.
100. Ulysses (James Joyce) No way. I had to do a report on this book in high school and I didn’t even read it then.

Now for the question: Does anyone know of any good sites to find free templates for this thing? I want to change mine but all the ones I find are even more boring than the one I already have. And I am far to cheap to actually, you know, PAY for one.

And thanks again for all the support about the situation I've got going. You guys rock...

Letter To Husband

Dear Husband,

I think I hate you.

As I've been sitting at home, alone, these past few nights, I have cried a lot. I cry because it hurts me that you seem to have stopped caring. I think back to the beginning of our relationship. Where is the guy that used to call me 10 minutes after I left the house to tell me he missed me? Where is the guy that blindfolded me after I came home from work, and led me into a room lit up with candles, a tape of our song playing, and slow danced with me for hours? Where is the guy that used to write me poems nearly every day?

I think he is long gone.

Then, I think back to a not so great period of time. You would stay out for hours, and I knew you were with her. I remember you slipping out of bed one morning, after getting a phone call. I followed you, wondering why you had been so careful not to wake me. Only to look out the window and see you kissing her in the driveway. I wanted to run outside, to tackle her to the ground and beat her until I felt better. I wanted to hit you too, so that you could experience some of my pain. But I didn't. I waited until you came back in. I told you I had seen you, I knew what was going on, and that if you so much as spoke to her again, we were through.

I realize now that's where it should have ended.

I should have realized you had issues with growing up, and being a man. I should have realized it when I worked a full time, crappy, 8 dollar an hour job for three years because you couldn't manage to hold down a job. I should have left, instead of continuing to work and support us, barely able to pay rent and keep food on the table.

Then, I got pregnant. You were overjoyed. You spouted declarations left and right. You would be such a good daddy. You would work, as much as you needed to, as many hours of you could, because now you were going to be a father. Now it was time to step up and stop being a child. I was nervous. I had my doubts. There was now a baby on the way though, so I let it go and hoped that this would be the thing that would make you be a man. There was no way you would still act that way, when you had a daughter to take care of. Not as much as you talked about how your brother is a deadbeat dad, and you would never, never be that way. It wouldn't happen. No way. I had faith in you.

Had.

Now, not only have you not stepped up to the plate, you have run in the opposite direction. You hardly come home anymore. You have been gone for the last three days. I have seen you maybe a total of 3 hours in that time. You spend the nights at our friend's house, sleeping in bed with her. Our friends say nothing has happened, but they can't watch all the time. Instead of acting ashamed, or sorry, you accuse me of being paranoid. You throw the blame for you being gone at me, saying that maybe if I cooked more, cleaned more, did what you wanted, you would stay home more. You think me asking you to watch the baby while I cook dinner is you having to bribe me to cook. You tell me that I am making a big deal out of nothing, that there is nothing wrong with how you are acting. You say you will do whatever you want to do. I ask you, if there is nothing wrong with how you are acting, then what do you think your sister and father would have to say about it?

You are silent.

You know.

Today when you came in, I thought you were going to stay. I thought I would give it one last shot, to try and save our family, to make sure our daughter had a daddy around while she is growing up. She deserves to have a father.

Instead you left again.

And as I looked at you, gathering your things to walk out the door yet again, one thought kept running through my head.

I hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

There was no crying when you left this time. The hurt came from how much I loved you. That love, that I once thought was indestructible, is slowly being replaced with anger. Anger that after all I have done for you, and put up with, despite everyone asking me why I did, you can treat me this way.

What makes me angrier is the fact that my daughter has a dad who doesn't want to bother with her. She will have to grow up wondering why she doesn't get to come home after school and play with her father, or have him read bedtime stories to her. She may wonder what is wrong with her, why her daddy didn't care enough to stick around. One day I will have to answer those questions. And I think I really do hate you for that.

Tonight, if you bother to come back as you said you would, I think your clothes will be packed. I think that they will be sitting by the front door. And I think this is the best thing for our daughter, despite the fact that part of me still wants to cling to you, to beg and plead for you to come back to me. It is our daughter that is important now, though. I think it will be easier for her if you are gone before she gets old enough to be hurt by her father walking out. There is a part of me that is screaming, that feels like I am about to rip my heart out of my chest. This is not easy for me, despite how angry I am.

But I am her mother. I have to be strong in this, for her sake.

Because I am all she has.

Thoughts n' Stuff

There's my daughter! I told you I was a bad photographer, but look at that grin!

They should make a freakin button on the TV that makes the remote control beep. You know, like what they have for cordless phones. I lose the damn remote constantly. Doesn't help that we have like 4 different remotes, either.

Top Ten Favorite Movies (In No Particular Order)

1. Dragonheart
   
2. All the Kevin Smith movies (Clerks, Mallrats, Chasing Amy, Dogma, Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, Jersey Girl, Clerks 2. Yea, there's 7 of em. I know it's cheating.)
3. Cinderella Man
4. Braveheart
5. The Lion King
6. Bruce Almighty
7. Bad Santa
8. Pirates of the Carribean 1 & 2
9. My Best Friend's Wedding
10. Indiana Jones 1, 2, & 3
    

I am still all excited about the new Harry Potter book. It needs to be July already. (<---loser)

Men suck. Some of em, anyway.

Bleh.

What Now?

Here I am, about to post another long diatribe about the wonder that is my husband.

Well, the talk didn't seem to help. Today he left at 8:00 am to go for his job interview. No phone call until 2, when he informs me that he is playing basketball at his friend's house. Then no phone call until 6, when he informs me that he is going over to another friend's house. Then nothing until 8, when he drops by to pick up a change of clothes and informs me that he is spending the night over at said friend's house.

I go apeshit. I ask him what the hell is wrong with him. I tell him he is acting like he only gives a shit about himself and not his wife or baby. I tell him if he wants to leave me he should just go ahead and leave. I ask him what the hell he wants from me.

He says I jump his ass about being gone too much. He says he feels smothered. Then he contradicts himself and says maybe I should speak up more(???!). He says he is stressed out and wants to be somewhere where he can not have to think about things like bills, or jobs. Or babies, I guess. I tell him I don't get to do that. I am here at this house, 24/7, taking care of a baby full time with little to no help from him and worrying about all the same things he is. I bawl. He just keeps saying he will be home in the morning, and we can talk more then. Then he leaves.

I just don't know what to do anymore. I have been nice, I have ignored it, I have jumped his ass, I have cried, I have point blank told him I can't do this alone and I need his help. Nothing makes a difference.

I never thought in a million years he would do this. He was the one that's been telling me he wants kids practically since we got together. He WANTED me to get pregnant. Apparently what he also wanted was a baby that changes itself, feeds itself, and sleeps on demand. Yeah, those don't exist.

So now I am forced to look at the prospect of being a single mother. Maybe that is jumping to conclusions, but my god, looking at the way he has been acting ever since she got here and the fact that it just keeps getting worse as time goes on...maybe it is possible. Maybe I will get tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop and kick him out myself. And I don't know if I can do it. Being a single mom terrifies me. I will have to go and try to find a job, and who will watch the baby? How the hell will I ever sleep if I work during the day and take care of Little One all night? Grocery shop? Go to the laundry mat? Shower? How do single moms do anything? And then, besides the baby, I will be single again. And women with babies aren't exactly prime dating material.

I just don't know anymore.

So here I am, dangling. At the end of my rope.

Any suggestions?

100 things

You knew it had to happen eventually, didn't you? Here goes:

1. I have an insane fear of large cockroaches. I will go into hysterics . I nearly brained my husband once when he was dumb enough to get in my escape path. I ran him the fuck over and he had a black eye the next day.
2. I love reptiles. Currently I have 3 snakes and 4 geckos.
3. I worked at Petco for 3 years. If you have an animal or pet related question, I'm your gal.
4. I don't remember the first time I kissed my husband. I was too drunk.
5. I have 4 tattoos.
6. I cried like a bitch when the Croc Hunter died.
7. I have abnormally long toes.
8. I am the world's worst procrastinator.
9. Both of my parents died before I was 16.
10. I LOVE to read. I will read all day and all night, if given the chance.
11. I am an avid Harry potter fan. But only the books.
12. I have not yet seen a movie adaptation of a book that I am satisfied with. Lord of the Rings came close, but no cigar.
13. I love to play video games.
14. I am a pretty good artist.
15. I am not fond of cats.
16. When I was little, I lived in Hawaii. My house was across the street from the ocean, and surrounded on three sides by forest.
17. My dad was the president of a biker gang/truck driver/bull rider in the rodeo.
18. I absolutely refuse to sing in front of ANYONE, at ALL, unless I am sloshed. Then I will sing country music for hours.
19. I am still to scared to let my daughter sleep in her crib.
20. I love Kevin Smith.
21. My favorite movie is Dragonheart.
22. I have never been in a fistfight. I have come close, but no actually punching occurred.
23. I had a secret crush on one of my co-workers the whole time I was pregnant.
24. I absolutely hate that movie Donnie Darko.
25. I also despise Rap and R&B.
26. I have only been to five concerts.
27. I kinda play guitar.
28. I am god awful at math.
29. One day, I want to visit Ireland.
30. I hate it when people pull the race card when there is no racism involved. Hate, hate, hate it.
31. I cannot take a decent photograph to save my life.
32. I love the show Family Guy.
33. I have a very sarcastic sense of humor.
34. Sometimes I get so bored that I go into chat rooms and pick fights with radicals and zealots.
35. I would pay money to sleep more than 5 hours straight.
36. I am not a religious person.
37. I hate soap operas. Always have.
38. My favorite comedians are Dane Cook, Eddie Izzard, and Robert Williams.
39. I love peanut butter, but not too big on chocolate.
40. I was reading at a college level in fifth grade, but other than that I'm not really abnormally intelligent.
41. I am analytical. VERY analytical.
42. ...the meaning of life? (Kudos if you get it.)
43. When I was little I used to run around pretending to be various animals. I even tied a piece of rope to my belt loop as a "tail".
44. I have always been a bit of an introvert.
45. I always close my eyes the first time I ride a roller coaster.
46. I would like to go sky diving, but would probably chicken out at the last minute.
47. I love horror movies.
48. I hate the beach. The sand gets everywhere, the water is nasty, your hair gets gross from the saltwater...uck. Seriously hate the beach.
49. I can get a sunburn so bad that I can barely walk and still, I will peel and be pale again. This annoys me.
50. I love Kahlua Mudslides and Pina Coladas.
51. I smoke too much.
52. I am a very jealous person sometimes.
53. I hate Sprite, 7up and anything lemon or lime flavored.
54. I was addicted to Popsicles for the last month of my pregnancy. I ate about 20 a day.
55. I have a really hard time naming living creatures. We still call our cat kitty and we didn't settle on a name for our daughter until a week before her due date.
56. I used to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer religiously. My friend and I were so obsessed we would call each other during commercial breaks to talk about what was happening.
57. I love lists.
58. I have never shot a gun.
59.I hit the snooze button WAY too many times. Or at least I did, back before I gave birth to a tiny little alarm clock.
60. I have gotten drunk enough to black out once or twice.
61. I don't really like spicy food.
62. I am a sucker for blue eyes.
63. I hate sleeping alone.
64. I do not know how to play poker.
65. I cannot cook for beans. I am learning, though.
66. I hate sports. or anything remotely athletic.
67. Elevators kinda freak me out.
68. So do escalators. I am always scared it will grab my shoelaces and suck me in.
69. Porcelain dolls and clowns scare me.
70. I swear a lot. Probably too much.
71. I believe in ghosts.
72. I am still a little afraid of the dark. If my husband is not with me I usually sleep with the TV on. I blame this on watching too many horror movies.
73. After I saw The Ring for the first time I slept facing my TV for a week.
74. I have never skinny dipped, but I have had sex in a pool.
75. I think porn is kinda boring.
76. My favorite TV show when I was little was M*A*S*H*. I was a weird child.
77. There is one person on this earth that I really, truly HATE.
78. I have been to 5 US states.
79. I got made fun of for my name a lot when I was younger.
80. I am horrible with giving directions. I WILL get you lost.
81. I would rather be deaf than blind.
82. My favorite food is Italian or Chinese, depending on my mood.
83. My favorite Disney movie is The Lion King. I can recite it from memory.
84. I don't get embarrassed very easily.
85. I love country music.
86. I never played with barbies when I was little. I saw the Chucky movies, and that just kinda ruined it for me. Dolls freaked me out after that.
87. I have only been camping at the beach, never the woods.
88. I hate beer.
89. I never got into trouble in High School, but only because I wasn't dumb enough to get caught.
90. I went through a phase when I was about 17 or 18 where I was drunk or high almost every day. After a while I got bored with it and straightened up.
91. I don't really watch much TV.
92. I love kid movies.
93. Caring for a newborn is way harder than I thought it would be.
94. I have one half sister.
95. I love WalMart.
96. I never got into reality shows.
97. I STILL want to know what the hell was up with the polar bear on Lost.
98. This damn thing took forever.
99. I am now hungry.
100. And want a cigarette.

Ode To Poop

We had another pee explosion this morning (Pampers can rot in hell) with an added bonus of poop.

So I'm changing the kiddo, and her clothes, digging out a new blanket, etc. all while half asleep.

I get her all wrapped up, and I'm picking her up to feed her. As my hand slides under the back of her head, I feel something...squishy.

What the hell?

I am so out of it, that I stare blearily at the whatever it is stuck to my finger, and give it a sniff.

It is poop.

Oh yes. My darling daughter has a FREAKIN POOP NUGGET STUCK TO THE BACK OF HER HEAD.

How did this happen? She has ninja poops, I swear to friggin god. Husband got one stuck to his big toe the other night. They pop out of the diapers and go nuggeting around the house, just waiting for an opportunity.

Did I mention I'm not even a morning person?

I Am Housewife, Hear Me Roar

Well.

So I realized that yea, I guess I WAS acting a bit like a doormat. I mean, why should he stop pulling that kinda crap if I wasn't going to really put my foot down?

So, when he woke up this morning (he ended up coming home at like, 3 AM) I had a long talk with him. I told him that what he has been doing is bullshit. I told him that going out every night and leaving me home with the baby made me feel like we weren't as important as his friends and boozing it up. I told him I was tired of him walking all over me and acting like what I said or felt about the situation didn't matter.

He did his typical, I'm gonna joke around to try and change the subject thing that he does, but I was having none of it. Not this time.

He said that he was just feeling a little overwhelmed by the whole Daddy thing. To which I said, "How do you think I feel, being here 24/7 with no help? How's THAT for being overwhelmed?"

Then he tried the, "Well I was just trying to get it out of my system before I go back to work, and I never have time to go hang out anymore." To which I replied, "Welcome to being an adult. It sucks."

So by the time I'm done, and he's given the requisite, "I'm gonna stop, I promise. I'll stay home more." I'm tired. So I ask him if he will watch little one for a couple of hours so that I can nap a bit, steeling myself for some excuse. Nothing. He agrees meekly. "She's probably hungry, so you might want to make her a bottle," I say, waiting for the, "Can't you feed her before you go lay down?" Again, nothing. Holy crap. "Can you make me a sandwich?" Sandwich made and delivered to me, in bed. He even brought me a coke. At this point I decide not to push my luck any further. I just ate and went to sleep.

I know this is probably all ass kissing so I won't be mad at him anymore, but it's still nice. We'll have to wait and see if he actually sticks to what he said. I think I actually made my point this time, so I'm hopeful.

Roar!

JERK

What I meant was fucking asshole, but I wasn't sure if I could put that as a post title.

So yea, he comes home and guess the fuck what? HE ASKS ME IF HE CAN GO STAY THE NIGHT AT HIS FRIEND'S HOUSE.

What the hell is he, ten? And he has said friend with him. I gave him my best, I Am Going To Kill You NOW look, and I'm like, "What the FUCK?"

Then he starts babbling about how he is playing games over there and he wants to drink and blah blah blah *insert glares from me* and how he'll be back tomorrow.

So his friend leaves the room. And I start crying, you know, because I am just too upset to be bitchy at this point. I told him to do whatever the fuck he wants because he is obviously going to do it anyway. Any man with half a brain in his skull knows this is NOT permission, but a warning that if he leaves he may well never have sex again.

And then he leaves.

With me still crying, because I'm so damn upset that his sorry ass seems to think playing games and drinking with his friends is more important than his wife and daughter.

What the fuck?

Enough Is Enough

Alright, this is getting ridiculous.

Before I get into my main topic here, just let me say that Pampers Baby Dry SUCK. We got a giant package of them at my baby shower and hey, free diapers right?

Baby DRY? They should have called them Pampers Baby-Will-Wake-You-Shrieking-At-3AM-Because-Of-Massive-Pee-Explosion. Twice. Yea.

Anyway.

My husband is missing the danger signs. You already know about the whole other woman after his nuts thing, but get this. He has gone out to hang out with his friends nearly every night this week. Monday we actually both went to our friend's house to toss a few back and relax baby-free. So I'll give him that one, since we both went. Tuesday we stayed home. Wednesday he SPENT THE NIGHT over at the same friend's house after getting sloshed on Vodka and playing pool half the night. Thursday he kinda stayed home, but only because he didn't come home from the night before until about 4 in the afternoon. Last night he went driving to League City with HER. Yes, that's right. Tonight he is currently over at his other friend's house playing X-Box. And tomorrow night he is going out to play pool.

Lest you think me a doormat, this is after I had a long conversation with him last night about how he never helps with the baby (he always has some shit-poor excuse like, "I don't feel good. My head hurts. I'm tired. I'm hungry. In a minute, I'm gonna go smoke a cigarette. Holy god, it's a poopy diaper. This one's all you.") and seems to want to go out every night, leaving me with her, even though by this point I'm pretty damn exhausted, as "that's what mommies do."

Yes, he actually said that.

Now, he does love his daughter. And though it may kinda sound that way, he is not going to go running off into the night and leave me a single mom or anything. I think he is just having problems, well, growing up. I think it's hard for him to accept that hey, he has a kid now, and the freedom to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, is no longer there. Only I don't seem to be able to get this thought through his thick skull.

Have I mentioned that he isn't working yet?

And that SHE has invited him to a Toby Keith concert, JUST THE TWO OF THEM, and he wants to go?

God, this makes me look pretty bad all written out. But I swear, I really am not one of those meek little housewives that lets her husband push her around. It just kind of all seems to happen whether I protest or not, and before I quite realize it he is off out the door again.

Well, enough is enough. I have been holding back thus far, thinking maybe he would get it out of his system and settle down a bit, but that doesn't seem to be happening. I didn't want to have to go all St. Helen's on him but it seems I am left with no choice in the matter. I think he is just going to keep up what he is doing until I murder him in my sleep or take the car and run away to Vegas, sans baby. Which of course I would never do. Although I have thought about just mysteriously disappearing for a few hours and leaving the baby with him, no warning, just so he can see what it's like for me.

At any rate, like I said, I think when he comes home tonight we are going to have a long talk. I have tried being nice and accommodating and gently suggesting and slightly more pissily suggesting and it hasn't worked. So tonight my Uber-Bitch is coming out. He is going to see my POV one way or the other.

Thanks for the support guys, and I'll let you know what happens tomorrow.

On Mothering

I don't think I've yet figured out what kind of mother I will be.

On the one hand, you have the overprotective zealot moms. The ones who want to ban books from libraries, protest violence and sex in movies and TV, and generally shelter their kids from anything they deem offensive. The kind who have a sort of, My Way Is The Only Way outlook on parenting. These are usually the moms who think spanking is the devil incarnate and the like. They don't really seem to be happy unless they are wrangling to get something banned, taken off their air or edited.

Then, you have the other side of the spectrum. The "cool" moms, who generally let their kids do, say, watch, wear or read anything they want, who don't impose curfews, who let their kids just generally run wild and expect them to learn their own lessons with a minimum of guidance.

Most mothers fall into a kind of gray area between the two, sometimes leaning farther to one side or the other, but mostly just trying to find a balance between sheltering your child from things and letting them find their own way, form their own opinions and beliefs.

This is the kind of mom I hope I turn out to be. In a way, I think it is the hardest, because you have no cut and dried rules for any given situation. There's no dogma in how you cope with situations that arise; each has to be evaluated and a livable (for both of you) conclusion arrived at. You have to look at things and think to yourself, Will this harm my child? Will it affect how he sees himself, or others? Will it cause him to have a biased view? Will it make him think he can walk all over me? Am I trying to shelter him too much, so that he won't be prepared when the big bad world out there comes and knocks him on his ass for the first time? Is he ready for this yet, or should I wait? Do I care what everyone else will say about my decision? Can I deal with their criticism?

So many questions. I'm coming to realize that motherhood seems to be a series of difficult decisions and questions, and it seems like no matter what you decide, you always feel like you made the wrong choice, or are left forever wondering what would have happened if you had gone the other way. If things would have been better, or worse.

I just hope I get through this with both of us in one piece, sane, and reasonably happy.

Get Off My Kool Aid

Well, I installed that nifty little trackback thing on my blog here.

They failed to warn me that it would DELETE all my previous comments.

Bastards.

On another note (one just as pissy, sorry to say) I am about to kick some ass. More specifically, the ass of a certain female that seems to think it is OK to flirt and hit on other women's HUSBANDS.

Yea.

I don't think she knows how close I am to pummelling her into a little pile of mush. SHE doesn't seem to think there's anything wrong with the way she acts. And the husband seems to think it's OK to go traipsing about with our group of friends and include her in everything. She calls him MULTIPLE times a day to ask him to go here or there like he's got some kind of responsibility to escort her every damn place she wants to go.

Does this chick have no FRIENDS?

No, she doesn't. And I can only imagine why. I have talked to the husband (I really need to think up a nifty code name for him like everyone else has) about this and while he seems to get what I mean he also laughs it off and thinks I'm overreacting. He starts saying how she doesn't have anyone else to hang out with (geewonderWHY) and how nothing is going to happen as he's not going to cheat on me and she is afraid of me anyway (which fills me with a malicious kind of glee) so nothing is going to happen.

But.

He HAS cheated on me once before, when we were going through a rocky stage. And I've always been a believer of the phrase, "Once a cheater always a cheater." I keep my jealousy monster pretty well leashed with most things...but there's always that little voice in the back of my head yammering "What if, what if." And now that Little One is in the picture (the first time was pre-baby) it adds a whole new dimension. Now, if anything were to happen, it would be the father of my CHILD cheating on me.

Argh. I really, really want to trust him as the last thing I need is more stress right now but...I dunno. I plan on having a talk with said chick about how certain things are inappropriate when some one's husband is in the picture, and she better take note.

Because Mommy don't take no shit.

Helloooooooooo, I'm a caaaaaaaaaar.

Anyway, have I mentioned that I LOVE Dane Cook? I know, a lot of people talk crap about him.

"He doesn't even tell JOKES. He just YELLS and makes faces."

Poop on them. Dane is a funny freakin' guy. And he's not bad on the eyes, either.

He makes me crack up, and I'm not even much of a stand up comic gal. I was into George Carlin for a while but it seems like the older he gets, the more cynical he gets. And that makes him progressively less funny. I do still like his older stuff though.

Hmm.

I also love Kevin Smith. Yes, Silent Bob. I know his movies abound with fart jokes and stoner humor, but there's also some awesome dialogue and some heartfelt stuff in there as well. Plus the man's really smart and hilarious to listen to. I also like the fact that he is really in touch with his fans and doesn't hesitate to rip anyone who tries to trash talk him a new one.

I was way too upset when the Croc Hunter died. I watched the memorial on Animal Planet and cried like a wuss. My excuse for this is that I was PREGNANT, ok, and I had HORMONES and MOOD SWINGS and...whatever. It was sad.

I am a Disney movie fanatic. This bodes well for my child, as I will actually be able to sit and watch cartoony movies with her and NOT be bored.

Actually, I just love kid movies in general. Except for the cheap straight to DVD sequels. Those suck.

I dunno what's up with this post, really. I just felt like sharing random bits of me with everyone.

GIANT kudos to anyone who can tell me where my post title came from.