Come take a ride on the hormone coaster!!!

It’s week 3 of my little packet of birth control pills. Sometimes I’d like to think that I take BC to allow me to be kinda slutty, but it’s mostly because my periods have a mind of their own. (overshare…sue me!)

However, these tiny little pills have a strange effect over me for one week every four weeks. Week 3. Sometimes referred to as the “green m & m” week as I can tend to be hornier then a teenage boy. Sometimes I am all sad and dreary during week 3. Sometimes, like this week, I have such crazy mood swings that I think my hair gets blown into knots from all the ups and downs.  Of course, I’m a good mid-western girl who tries to hide these mood swings as much as possible, but inside my head is a mess.

Last night on the way home I went from feeling like I was totally alone in the world to being so thankful for my friends and back to being alone all in the time it took me to drive about 2 blocks.

I will admit that there are some things going on in my little world that aren’t helping to calm me down. For example, I’ve recently decided to buy a house. Well, I’ve decided that I want to buy a house. I have no savings and iffy credit, but am bound and determined to be a homeowner by the end of the year. I’d like to say it’s just because I want the $8000 first time home-buyers credit, but I know it’s more then that. I want roots. I want something to call my own. I have finally realized that thinking I will have a husband to buy a home with is holding me back from having things I really want and seems like something I can no longer chase, it just keeps running and I’m tired.

There’s the baby thing….but whatever, that will work out somehow. I truly believe that things work out as they should and am trying with all my might to let things happen instead of trying to make them something they are not and possibly never should be.

I have friends who are going through all kinds of things in their lives and I don’t know how to help. I don’t know what to do because so many things have to do with their relationships. I officially declare myself unable to be of any help in relationship issues because my lack of experience makes my opinions useless. I find myself thinking of what I should say to make the outcome what benefits me most, not what is necessarily best…and I hate that.

The grass is much greener wherever I am not these days. Making minor changes of my immediate surroundings helps for awhile, but then I start daydreaming of being somewhere else. Austin, Los Angeles, Michigan, places I associate with fun and being loved. But then again, I only go to these places long enough to have fun and be loved. It’s not that I don’t feel loved in Nashville, it’s home and it always will be, but it’s just different.  Again, it’s the difference between a date and a marriage…..but I’m not well experienced in either of those things, so I just want the easy thing. I want the long random conversations. I want to be able to talk about things to someone who knows little about them but is interested anyway. I want new experiences and random silliness.

But I also just want to be home. Snuggled with my furry friends and puttering around doing lots of nothing.

I guess I am mostly just ready for week 4 of the bc pills. Cramps I can handle, my crazy mind I cannot.

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Baby fever…..for real?!?!?

I got to meet Jane this weekend!

She’s precious.

Perfect and small and soft.

She snuggled right up and melted my heart.

She also seems to have turned up the volume on the ticking of my biological clock. I mean, it’s there, ticking away all the time, but now, it’s deafening. I suppose this is a given when one is 35 and (oh so) single. But damn!

Jane’s mom tells of how this is the hardest job she’s ever had. She talks of no sleep. She talks of absolute fear of this 9 lb person. But she does all this with a almost undetectable smile that makes me pretty sure it’s all worth it. I ask about nursing and labor pains and all that stuff, and no matter what she says, I think it sounds lovely.

My mind has been going through it’s contact list in hopes there is some sort of forgotten male who would be perfect to stop this clicking clock. All it finds is Mr. Complicated, Mr. Wrong, Mr. Bad Gene Pool, Mr. Gay. Mr. Ewwww and Mr. Not In A Million Years.

Then my mind takes me to the dark side. Do I want to have a baby so I don’t feel left out? Do I want to have a baby or do I want to have what I’d like to think comes with a baby, a husband (or husband type person) a cute little house with a backyard and silly disagreements about nothing? Do I want a baby just so I am not alone?

Currently all I am sure of is this; the time I spent this past weekend holding that precious little girl was the happiest time I’ve spent in a very long time.

Baby fever……kind of.

Little Miss Jane is finally here and I cannot wait to meet her and kiss her chubby cheeks and play with her chubby feet and bask in the general glory that is new life.

It has dawned on me that the true heroes in this world are mothers. I know my mom is my hero and a lot of my friends would say the same about their moms. Seriously, you bring a life into this world, love it, take care of it, deal with it being a little asshole….all the while thinking it’s the most perfect thing ever. That is some heroic stuff right there.

For the early part of my life I never doubted I would have kids. At least a couple (only children are weird–I can say that, I’m an only child). After some dubious years in my early twenties, I then started wondering if I really wanted kids. I knew that if I wasn’t sure, I shouldn’t have kids. For the ten years since I decided that it would be ok if I didn’t want kids, I vascilated between never wanting kids and wanting nothing more then kids. Yes, it can be exhausting being me.

After a surgery a few years ago that took an ovary and a fallopian tube, I started facing the fact that having a child might be more difficult (although Jane is proof that one ovary is all you need) and I thought more about whether I wanted to have a baby or be a mother. Most people would think that these things go hand in hand, but I disagree. I don’t think that not actually “birthing” a child makes the act of being a mother any less heroic. Plus, I’m single (oh so single), have that one ovary and know that there are lots of kids out there who just want/need to be loved.

I often feel like I have to much love to give, or not enough people to give it to (again, it’s exhausting being me!) and while no one grows up playing “Adoptive Single Mother House”….the idea keeps churning around my head. I mean, there is no way I would think of adopting a child right now….but perhaps in the not too distant future? I’d like to think that I would be willing to adopt an older child, and maybe I would. But if I had my way, I would get a baby. Some new litle person who I could use to prove that nurture can beat out nature from time to time. A little person who knows me as mom, not because I carried them for 9 months inside of me, but because I love them unconditionally and forever.

Of course, I type all of this while really looking forward to having alcholic beverages on a patio this evening, then sleeping a good portion of tomorrow and taking Noodle to the dog park. What am I thinking? I mean really, what kind of fool am I to think that my selfish lifestyle could go away just because I feel like my life will mean nothing if I’m not a mother?

Have I mentioned it’s exhausting being me?

To Marie and Jeremy…and Jane

In approximately 33 days, the ‘good guys’ are going to be one girl stronger.

Little Jane Elizabeth will finally grace us with her presence and I, for one, can’t wait! Good things come to those who wait and goodness knows that you guys have waited and struggled and laughed and cried and had hypochondria issues galore ( I kid Marie!!) But know you’re in the home stretch and there are so many great things just around the corner.

Jane is so lucky to have parents like you. Parents that compliment each other in so many ways. Individually you are super cool, collectively you are a force to be reckoned with. You both care for each other and your friends and family in ways that are not sicky sweet, but caring the way people want to be cared about. You have amazing senses of humors and all kinds of quirks that make being around you a treat.

Hearing Marie worry about early life with Jane and Jeremy worry about things like taking her fishing, the girl is going to be taken care of. She’s going to have great taste in music, varied taste in movies and be a reader. I just know it. I wonder if she’ll be a planner or a dreamer, or maybe the perfect combination of both?  All things are possible in Jane’s world right now and she has the type of parents who will do all they can to continue to make her feel that all things are possible, without giving her false hope.

Little Miss Jane, we’ve been waiting for you. You’re not here quite yet, but we’ve gotten some things in order for you. We have a great President in office, that’s a good thing. We’re working on the global warming thing, sorry about that. Hopefully all the wars will be over by the time you are aware of such horrible things. Bottom line, you are already loved and your parents have so much love ready to give you that I can’t even express. So if they get stressed when you cry all night or ticked when you won’t eat….don’t worry, they will always love you. And if you could be a napper…that would be good to. They would appreciate that.

Nightmare @ Furry Friend Farm

This time next week I will be packing my bags to fly out to Cali. and drive back to Nashville with my mom and her evil cat Lucy. I am so excited that my mom decided to retire to Nashville that I still can’t really believe it’s happening. I see only good things coming from her being geographically close to me now. However, there seems to be one bad thing that is happening in my subconscious.

For the last few weeks I’ve been having nightmares about my mom moving here. That’s not accurate, I’m having nightmares that my mom is moving here and bringing my former stepfather with her. A man that neither of us have seen for around 18 years now. I have these nightmares where she doesn’t mind that he doesn’t work, that he drinks himself to oblivion and then hits her. That she thinks I need to just get over it and make nice. While these thoughts have no basis in reality, they are messing me up.

Everyone has gone through shit in their lives. Mine was my stepfather. When my mom called me at my dad’s house to tell me that she had gotten engaged while on a trip to NYC….I cried. I mean, sobbed, terrified of what would happen.  I knew this guy was a jerk. He had his moments, but he drank a lot and wasn’t nice to my mom a lot of the time. I didn’t even know that the scar above her eyebrow wasn’t from a sailing accident, but from him pushing her down the stairs!

I tried to make the best of the situation. I tried to not be devastated that instead of going to middle school with my friends I’d had since Kindergarten I was moving to California to be closer to my stepbrother….the stepbrother who threw darts at my Duran Duran posters and hung my stuffed animals from the ceiling when I was out of town.

We moved to California and there were the basic trauma involved with something like that. My stepfather was a lawyer and had to pass the California Bar Exam. He seemed to wait forever to even take it and then when he finally did, he didn’t pass. He didn’t have a job or seemingly any intention of getting a job. At our first place in Hermosa Beach I didn’t have a bedroom….I slept in the dining room.  California dreaming my ass. After a particularly horrible stretch where my stepfather was drinking a lot and berating me and my mother for being lazy, etc….my mom decided we should make a break for it. She didn’t tell me what was going on, but called me to let her in the security gate of the building. I came down to open the gate and she was with a friend and they told me to just get in the car, we were leaving. My 6th grade mind raced through all the things that I didn’t have with me…but didn’t care. We were going to be free.

Except we weren’t. We were gone for a few days, they apparently “worked things out” and we went back. I am pretty sure that it was right then that I was completely over this man and hated him being in my life.

Everything was pretty much status quo until my Junior year of high school (status quo meaning he was a drunk bastard, didn’t have a job and was horrible to my mother at every opportunity!).  The summer before my Junior year  I had made a birthday dinner for my mother. I had to run to the store to get something and asked my stepfather to watch the food in the oven to make sure it didn’t burn. I came back. It was black. I was furious! As any 17 year old would do when furious, I cried. I screamed at my stepfather asking him why he couldn’t do one little thing. He proceeded to throw the burnt food at me and slap me across the face. Happy Birthday Mom!

That was it, I left the house and started walking to my friend’s house. I couldn’t even think straight enough to drive. I walked and cried and walked and cried. I called my mom later and told her I couldn’t come home until something was done about him. She asked that I give her a few days and she would work something out. The next few months were a disaster. As to not dwell on these more then I need to, here is a bulleted list that is not necessarily in chronological order:

  • Restraining orders were filed and then rescinded
  • One holiday weekend my mother and I were basically held hostage because one of the therapists my stepfather had been seeing had called the police because he was homicidal
  • Another of the therapists he was seeing had called the police because they thought he was suicidal…that sounded like a great thing to me!
  • The SWAT team was called out and stationed on the roof of the houses next door
  • The Redondo Beach police knew our names and address by heart, which actually got me out of a speeding ticket (sometimes pity is good)
  • My father came up from San Diego and placed my mom in a hotel, took me back with him and told my stepfather he should leave or my dad would make sure he left.
  • During my stay in San Diego, the police escorted my stepfather from our home and served him with yet another restraining order….but not before he stole all of our stuff. My mom called me to tell me that from a phone she had to go buy because he even took that.
  • After yet another retraining order was rescinded, I came home to find my stepfather passed out on the kitchen floor. (My mom and I lived upstairs, he lived downstairs, we shared the kitchen) I walked over to the counter, stepping over his drunken loser body and grabbed a kitchen knife. I was thisclose to ending this nightmare for once and all. But I couldn’t do it…I couldn’t let this man ruin my life even more. So I ran upstairs and locked myself in my room.
  • I don’t remember specifics, but somehow my mom got him to leave. He gave back some of the stuff he had stolen, took his cat and his truck and left.
  • We moved across town. Occasionally got random letters from him filled with hateful things.
  • We moved again and I don’t think he ever got that address.

This monster made it impossible for me to go away to college. He ruined my mother in ways I can’t even comprehend. What makes me most angry is that he has obviously made me question my mother’s judgement, even now, nearly 20 years later. I want to be past this….but I don’t know that I will ever be.

Better Living Through Chemistry

So, I’ve been on anti-depressants for about a year and a half now. Seriously! I know it’s shocking for as well adjusted person as I to be taking such measures to be able to function, but it is true. The chemicals in my brain can simply not be trusted to regulate themselves and, this is truly shocking, vast amounts of vodka didn’t really help either. I like to think that this was a great decision on my part and that I am much better at life in general since bringing Celexa into my life. Hopefully those who knew me before and stuck around through some ugly times to see me after would agree.

My prescription ran out a few days ago. Well, let me clarify, the bottle I had ran out the same day my mom came in town for a visit and I got sidetracked and didn’t get a refill ASAP. This, I have come to understand, was a REALLY bad idea. I had been having relentless, exhausting dreams for the last few nights and this morning I woke up with that feeling that I had almost forgotten, that feeling that getting out of bed was going to be a big chore today. At first, I figured it had to do with my mom going home today. That always makes me sad and knowing that it would be over 6 months before I would see her again, definitely is rough. But this had a different feeling, a feeling that was more familiar then I wanted it to be.

I instantly called my prescription in, but the day started to get away from me and it was time to take my mom to the airport before I had a chance to get to Walgreens. As we were sitting at Cracker Barrel ordering food, my mind started racing and I couldn’t keep a thought in my head or form a complete sentence and it turned into a struggle to keep my shit together before dropping my mom off at the airport. She hates leaving under any circumstances, but if the flood of tears I felt pushing on my eyes broke through, there was no way I could have gotten her on the plane. I knew I just needed to get my pills and get home and chill.

If you have never had chemical imbalances or fun things like that, make sure to add that when you count your blessings. It SUCKS! You want to talk to people, but you know you would not make any sense. You want to be alone, but are scared to death to be lonely. It’s like your heart and you brain are duking it out and whichever one is messed up is winning. There is a part of me that is kinda glad this happened, I think I had gotten to comfortable. I needed a little reminder that life is a fragile thing and laziness is no excuse to not take of myself. Now, I’m going to go snuggle with my dog and watch random TV until my mind gets back in order…..

Single People Deserve to Die

A coworker of mine found out that their spouse (a salesperson) was scheduled to take a trip out of the country to an area that had been on the news lately because of outbursts of violence. Among the many reasons they came up with as to why this was a horrible idea (which I agree it was) was “It’s not like (they’re) a single person, they have a spouse.”

All of a sudden it became so clear. Since I have not married, my life is expendable. Phew, now I don’t feel nearly as bad for spending the weekend watching “Deadliest Catch” and eating dip. I probably will stop wearing my seat belt, start running with scissors and perhaps I should take up smoking or a nice heroin habit. Seeing as I am a 34 year old single person, it’s not like it would matter as much. I mean really, I’ve only got one ovary and fallopian tube left and at my ever advancing age, the likelihood of me procreating gets smaller every day.

Sure, I have pets, but they are just animals. I have family and such, but no one has chosen to be legally tied to me, therefore, I’m expendable.

I mean really people, how easy is it to be single?!?! I have one salary with which I pay for all my expenses. Luckily I have the opportunity to buy engagement, wedding, baby shower and other gifts for those people who have found someone who wants to have legal ties to them. It makes me understand that not only is my life not worth as much, but that all milestones in my life aren’t worth as much because Target doesn’t have a registry for “Single Girl’s New Place” or “Heather Needs a New Handbag” or “Dog and Cat Toys are Free.”  I don’t mean to imply that I begrudge my married and baby-making friends, but damn y’all, with a life as non-momentous as mine apparently has been, it hurts the ego.

I have the strength of one person to carry groceries up the stairs.  If a bug needs killing, it’s all me. If someone invites me to do something, pretty much no other person on the planet gives a shit if i do it or not. I mean, hell, I’m SUPER expendable since I don’t even have siblings. I’m like the SUPER SINGLE PERSON. I was born single, grew up single, hit mid-life (ish) single and at this point it’s looking like old age is going to be single for me too. It’s almost selfish of me to have a job. A job that could go to a married person with a family. But that’s how we single folks roll……

The single person really hardly even deserves a vacation, unless to go to a wedding, baby shower, funeral or other occassion. Once we hit our 30’s it gets hard to find a group of single folk (or open minded marrieds) who are apt to want to take the same vacation. Luckily for me, being an only child and all, I can take vacations with my parents….that isn’t pitiful at all!

I hate to sound like a whiner. I suppose I’m lucky that I haven’t been put in a home for spinsters by now. I’m fortunate that I’m allowed to walk the same streets and pay the same taxes as those who have legal ties to others. Maybe I’ll take the route of this lady at least I’d be married.

Maybe it’s just a phase….

In addition to the family drama of this past weekend, I got to spend some time with my cousin’s three little boys, Jackson (6) Joshua (almost 3) and Lucas (almost 2) and it’s got me thinking about kids again. While it was exhausting just watching my cousin’s wife take care of their every need at all times, it was heartbreaking to watch them cuddle up to her and look at her like she was the most wonderful person on the planet. No matter how much I love my dog, it’s just not the same.

From watching Jack play little league to helping Josh learn to play the wii to watching Luke run around in perfect circles on his tippy toes, it all was so wonderful. I can’t imagine anything more fulfilling then having little lives like that be around you, and molded by you. But I’m almost positive I don’t want to do it alone.

So, it gets back to the whole marriage thing. Well, perhaps not marriage, but at least a committed relationship, committed to the point that I would want to have children with this man. I guess, pretty much marriage.  Will I wake up at 50 years old in a cold sweat feeling like my life has been a total waste if I don’t do the husband and kids thing? At this point, I’m pretty sure I will, and this scares the hell out of me. What is the point of a life if you leave no physical legacy?

I’m happy with my life right now. Things are going well. I’m in a better place in the universe then I have been for a long. long time. But will this contentment make me complacent as to moving forward with my life? Will I get comfortable and never marry or have children? Or is it better to be comfortable and let things happen as they are meant to then it would be to actively pursue marriage and children, which may result in them being scared off?

I don’t know, but it’s pretty much consuming my mind these days. That, and the face below, who could SO be my kid and I totally should have snatched when I had the chance 🙂  My cousin has two more kids, would he really miss one?

A death in the family

My Uncle Jim died a few weeks ago. Before you think “Oh—how sad” let me tell you a few things about this man. He abused my father’s sister both physically and mentally for who knows how long. Even when her debilitating depression and MS was at its worse, his wrath did not subside. In addition to his dubious skills as a husband, he also had some interesting ideas on parenting. His oldest son apparently made a good punching bag and his youngest child, a daughter, was a sex toy from the time she was 8 until she was 13. Only his middle son seems to have survived youth with minimal physical abuse at the hands of a parent. But, the mental and emotional scars are all over all three of my cousins.

 

For the last 11 months of Uncle Jim’s life he was in the hospital. Heart surgery, constant infections and pretty much anything else you can imagine was what he dealt with on a daily basis. Karma was doing its thing on this one. Shortly after my aunt died, my uncle remarried and this woman was by his side through all of this time. She ingratiated herself with my cousin’s wife (who knew nothing of the “ways” of this man) and took the role of Grandmother to their three boys. She blogged almost daily about her husband’s condition and often mentioned the “grandsons” and occasionally my cousin’s wife. Rarely, hardly ever really, did she mention her husband’s children.

 

About two weeks before my uncle (I have yet to come up with a term for him that shows no real connection to me) died, his wife emailed my cousin, the middle child, and once again chastised him and his siblings for being so uninterested in his father’s condition. She went so far as to say that Jim had always told her that his kids abandoned their mother when she was dying (a falsehood!) and he expected them to do the same to him. This set my cousin off in ways I can’t even believe, yet completely understand. He directed her to contact his sister and see what some of the reason that they have issues with their father might be.

 

My cousin was contacted and she spilled the whole story to “the wife” who retorted with “Oh yeah, I knew that.”

 

Really? She knew that and still asked why the kids weren’t holding vigils at their father’s bedside? Seriously, who in the world did she think she was kidding? If she did know, she is as twisted as her husband was!

 

If you ever have the opportunity to go to the funeral of someone who was hated by most who really knew him, do it. Be prepared for surreal moments. There will be very apparent “sides” taken at the gathering after the service. There may be no flowers at the church….NONE! The widow will probably be sitting alone until she gets pity from her 6-year-old “grandson” who decides to sit by her. Discussions of the deceased won’t be about shared happy moments, but more likely comparing notes of how they messed up with nearly all of the people there. Everyone will be asking themselves why they came and most will come up with the same answer “For the kids.” Then you realize that the kids are asking themselves why they are there. I guess the answer on that is a societal obligation, or perhaps it is to make sure the bastard is really dead.

 

Folks say death is final….but it’s not. There are numerous things to be dealt with after the death of a family member. Many of these things have financial ramifications. In the case of my uncle, he apparently made sure that his wife was taken care of….and no one else. Not his children whose lives he nearly destroyed, not his grandson’s he claimed to love so much. No one but the woman who was stupid enough to marry him at the age of 49. He was her prince charming. Never has life as a “spinster” been more appealing to me. This woman is making sure that her husband is able to get one last jab in at his kids. His kids who have done the best they can with the hand they were dealt. A hand that was dealt with anger and inappropriate behavior and fear.

 

I know this whole thing is far from over. But I feel that I will be closer to my cousins now and they will be closer with each other.

 

Upon my departure for the memorial service, my boss gave me a eulogy to give to my uncle.

 

Ashes to ashes

Dust to dust

You’ll burn in Hell

For fucking with us

 

Adios Uncle Jim, you monstrous bastard.

What’s on my mind today.

  1. a certain friend who is being distant these days. When I ask them about something in particular they indicate that I don’t know what’s going on with their world right now and when I point out that the inquiry was attempting to remedy that precise situation, they say nothing.
  2. an email a friend sent me the other day about “farting strawberries” that continues to make me laugh out loud.
  3. how men can walk into the bathroom with a cup of coffee or other beverage in their hands and do their business. Even if they put the cup on the counter, who knows what kind of “spray” is floating around there. My office is across from the men’s room and I have offered my desk, etc…as a storage spot for beverages. Not nearly enough of them have taken me up on this offer.
  4. sometimes I think that I don’t express aspects of my personality and interest correctly. For example, I love to go to art shows, etc….but I think most people think I’m just a bar type gal.
  5. in addition to art, I also enjoy this immensely. If only I could roller skate and was at all a bad ass.
  6. I want attention from boys, but I don’t want to have to ask for it. Wait, correction, I want attention from certain boys.
  7. most people don’t get me. It’s not that I’m all complicated or anything, I think people just don’t know what to make of me a lot of the time. I guess it makes sense since I don’t know what to make of myself a lot of the time. Perhaps I need to find more folks who are willing to come along for the ride.
  8. There is a boy/man in my office whose hair I want to run my fingers through. In a meeting yesterday I could vividly imagine myself reaching across the table and doing just that. I even think my arm twitched a bit in an effort to move my imagination into reality.
  9. I can’t wait to move into my new place, but HATE packing.
  10. If I look just to the right of my monitor I see my Tim Gunn bobblehead and a chair that has one of my old bridesmaid dresses and a box with a broken piggy bank in it.
  11. My hair needs to be colored in the worst way.
  12. Everyone keeps coming in and “borrowing” my flavored coffee creamer. Whatever.
  13. There is a member of my family who is dying. This person has done terrible things and has pretty much ruined a segment of my family. However, they have recreated themselves for people who don’t know the “other stuff” and those people are completely devastated at the idea of the loss. I feel bad for the people who are able to live in ignorant bliss about this person.
  14. I miss my girlfriends in Cali. like crazy. Recently I’ve just wished it was like 9 years ago and we were all ruling the music department at a So Cal Borders with caustic wit and more estrogen then you can shake a stick at. The best part is that, even though we don’t see each other very often (and I see them the least of all) I know that they will always have my back and I will always have theirs.
  15. I really wish the damn IT guy would come load iTunes on my computer!!!!
  16. cupcakes again……
  17. my dog
  18. how my March madness bracket could have gone SO badly. However, not badly enough for me to be in last place in the work pool, where I would at LEAST get my $10 back!

Ok–that’s all. My mind has just stopped suddenly. I will now go watch the clock countdown until I will leave the office and go to the bar to play some trivia and drink some vodka…..but seriously, I do like art 🙂