My Next Few Days

Tomorrow (Wednesday) :Watching my 2 1/2 year old neice and Jack while Joe works overtime.
Thursday: See above, and packing
Friday: Drop off neice and Jack with my mother. Drive 7 hours to Omaha. Attend rehersal dinner (requires application of makeup and heels)
Saturday: Attend wedding (see above re: makeup and heels)
Sunday: Drive 7 hours home (most likely hungover) and pick up Jack.
Monday: Wake up at crack of dawn when Joe returns to work.

Have I mentioned how much I admire moms with more that one at home?

Tags: Schedule, busy, crazy, long drives

OH. MY. GOD.

The Daddle
I couldn't make this shit up. I'm just not that twisted.

Tags: scary parenting images

Redefined

For ten years I've referred to Thomas as "The Sperm Donor", "The Asshole Who Knocked Me Up", "The Asshole Who Knocked Me Up And Abandoned Me", and "The Asshole Who Knocked Me Up And Abandoned Me Then Hid With The Assistance Of His Parents" with "Sociopath" thrown in randomly for flavor.

My reality for this time has been that he took off and hid from me and his responsibilities. No doubt this has colored my memories of him, and how I've felt about him over the years. Now it would seem that this reality is false.

It's hard for me to accept that. I have a distrust that has been colored and built by what has been my reality for almost a decade. I can't just let go of that and take things at face value. However, many of the things I am hearing lead me to want to trust him.
Then again, I've always been far too trusting a person, to the detriment of my mental health and growth as a person. So what do I trust? I can't trust my instincts, because I'm receiving messages from them on about four different wavelengths.

I could chose to implicitly believe what Thomas is telling me, but that requires a level of trust that I don't know I can produce. Sure, I want to believe him, I have my own reasons for feeling that what I am being told is highly plausible, but I also know I'm not the best judge of character.

I want him to be able to have contact with my son, and so do my son's parents. I want it to be good, and stable, and reliable and I'm terrified that he'll disappear into the mists again. I literally had no idea where he was for almost a decade. I had every reason to believe he was living in Africa. Not only do I not want to deal with all that again, I am feircely determined my son should never suffer in that way. Right now he has no sense of loss, because Thomas has never been a presesnce. But should he chose to make himself known and then flake out, it would be unforgiveable and most likely make me homicidal once again.

I'm not saying all this for you all to hate him, or rip into him. Right now I have every reason to beleive he is going to be responsible, and follow through. I'm just terrified that I'll be wrong, again.

Catharsis?

My oldest son's biological father has contacted me.
Over the past several hours I've gone through too many stages of emotions to list.
I am currently at cautious acceptance.
I've notified my son's mother, she's gone through some of them along with me.

It's been ten years (minus a few months) since I last had any contact with him.
There's distrust, naturally. I don't know that I can take the word of someone who abandoned me in that situation at face value.
I thought I'd gotten past my need for closure, but as I examine all the feelings that have been stirred up I wonder if I still need it after all.

My biggest problem is that in none of our contact so far has he apologized, or asked about the child we created.

SMRT

I deleted half of my template. I don't know how I did this, I am not sure when I did this, but this I did.
I can probably cobble something together to kind of look right, but if anyone could email me the blogger template code from the Sidebar/Wrapper section on, I would totally appreciate that.

God I'm dumb.

Random list time!

I haven't done this in a while.

1. My bullets aren't working so you get numbers.
2. For three days in a row I have taken my meds. Yay me!
3. The living room has a pseudo office. There are three walls of bookshelves. And they aren't all put away.
   
4. I have matching bruises on the outer thigh of each leg. Nothing in my house is that height. This confuses me.
5. I am over 100 books read for the year. How much do I rock?
6. Still no soda.
   
7. I want my soda.
8. I drink a lot of milk.
9. I've discovered I do not like Crystal Light or flavored water.
10. I drink a lot of Red Grapefruit juice.
11. I need new beverage ideas.
12. I hate anything with fake sugar (Aspartame, Splenda, all of them)
    
13. I was totally rocking at the No Limit Hold 'Em, then I lost 6000. This is why I don't play with real money. (Edited to add: I am now back up over 6000)
    
14. Through a strange twist of fate and generosity I have 4 Palm Pilot phones.
15. Caleb's mom is an irresponsible bitch.
16. He's supposed to be coming this weekend, but she wont even answer her phone.
17. We decided to have another baby.
18. When Jack is three.
19. I think the Strattera is working.
20. It still makes me feel like I'm on Effedrine though.
21. I'm going to go clean something now.

The End

HPV/Cervical Cancer Connection

"OK, folks. Research has proven the link between the HP virus and cervical cancer. Now it's time to spread the word. Merck Pharmaceuticals is donating a dollar to cervical cancer research for every bracelet kit ordered. The kits are FREE, so there is no reason not to do this.

Click this link.

Here is a chance to get up to $100,000 for reasearch into a cancer for which there MAY BE A VACCINE. Step up, people."

(stolen from Tracy )

Update

We just re-arranged the living room and now I am all exhausted and sweaty.

I thought you'd like to know.

The Family That Bathes Together

For the past couple of months Jack has been able to climb anything he puts his mind to, even if it requires moving items to use as step stools. He's very bright, but also very, very mobile. Which means that I cannot take a shower while he is awake, because even 5 minutes is too long to leave him unsupervised. I can't take a shower when he's asleep since the bathroom is right next to his room and invariably the shower wakes him up.

Then I thought, hey, I'll get one of those baby tub seats that has the lap-bar, and I'll set him in the shower while I bathe! That will work, and I can bathe more often than every three days. (When you don't leave the house it's easier to skip)
Today, I attempted this theory.

Well.

That was interesting.

Turns out that despite the fact that this tub seat has a lap bar, it seems that Jack my little climber can climb right the hell out of it. So our in theory safe shower was spent with him standing in his seat trying to eat body wash (until I gave him a tub toy to eat) and me desperately trying to not spray him with shampoo or body soap runoff. Knowing my luck (and need of warning labels) I was afraid I'd blind the poor boy. (He's young enough that a naked mommy glimpse can't do that kind of damage yet)

So we survived, and we are clean, but wow that was very impractical.

Any suggestions?

When I get depressed I don't take my meds, which makes me more depressed.
I should really work on that.

Shuffle Up And Deal

Since I am the world's laziest SAHM ( I cleaned yesterday. With my niece's help...) I have gotten really into online poker. (Play money. I don't have spare money to gamble)

I don't know if any of you play Texas Hold 'Em or would like to but I thought maybe we could set up a virtual poker night sometime. Meet up at the same table, gossip, gamble, whatnot.

I play using Poker Stars. It requires a download, but it's easy and free and all that fun stuff.

Let me know if anyone would be interested.

Oh yeah,

Did I mention I haven't had any soda in a week?
When I normally drink an average of six cans a day?
Did I mention how tired I was?

Hola

Did you love Bob Saget? I knew you would.

So I am watching my 7 year old niece in the mornings all this week, and 5 hours a day of it is stressing me out. She's not as hard to handle as Caleb, since she's quite happy just playing her GameBoy, but my mom (who she's actually staying with this week) only wants her to have thirty minutes of video games while she's here. So I can blatantly go against that, or watch even more Barbie and Disney Princess videos. Why was I wanting a girl again? Oh, so I can teach her to not like Barbie and Disney princesses! Dear god above, it's possibly more inane than SpongeBob. (Yes, I hate SpongeBob. Do you have a problem with that?)

I have every intention of going to the Library and store today when it's just Jack and I. I'm going to try to make up reasons to leave the house every day, even if it's just going to Goodwill to see if I can find any Hawaiian shirts. (Eccentric Father was talking about ugly thrift store shirts and it got me in the mood. So to speak.) So we'll see how that all works out, shall we?

And now Jack is awake again and I am off.
Ta!

I love Bob Saget. LOVE HIM

Revelations (Parenthetically speaking)

I realized today that I often have nothing to talk about since I often do nothing. Seriously. I don't go out a lot, I haven't worked in over three weeks, my library trips are rare since I usually get about eight books at a time. Even then, it's the library, not a place that you can really strike up conversation, or overhear any interesting conversations.

I suppose I could go to the park, or the Juice /Smoothie bar that we just got (which is wonderful, but expensive and it's not like I don't own my own blender so it's hard to justify going to often. Not that I make smoothies at home, 'cause I never seem to have the motivation. The long and the short of it is that I don't drink a lot of smoothies) or even to Panera with their free WiFi and whatnot, but those all seem like they are me-centric. The park is possibly my best one, but it has been in the 90's, and Jack hates sand. Not to mention that the few times we've been I just haven't seen that many other kids. So if I did do something I would like instead, Jack would pretty much just be sitting in a stroller or atatched to a leash (which I still don't have, only making it another tool in my procrastination toolbox) and can you see how I can never think of anything?

Rolla isn't big (we just now got a smoothie place and WiFi) and there simply aren't too many options. We don't have museums or galleries, or science centers or zoos or well populated and maintained parks. I'm scared to death of going to MoPs, because please trust me when I say I am not the witty sparkling person you know and love in real life. I counteract the fact that I am shy by nature by being too loud, and my jokes are crude and they meet in a church. Also? I don't own a dress. (I wouldn't have to wear a dress, and I do technically own a couple dresses but everything is from when I was skinny except my wedding dress. Since Joe's sister is getting married I have to buy a dress and it's been on my mind as a sign of how not the normal mother I am.)

I'm not good at making friends. I had a teacher suggest Carnegie's book one time, said in a way that implied she was joking. She wasn't joking. I do oddly enough own that book now, but I've never read it. I even procrastinate having a life.

I told my therapist today that I don't leave the house unless I absolutely have to, and that outside of Jack and Joe I have a hard time finding any interest or drive in my life. He was concerned at first but after he determined I did find pleasure in Jack (who was with me in therapy... thrilling) he kind of let the subject go. My meds are all the same, and as this was a new doctor he got to hear my history. It's always fun to see people's faces when they hear it. But other than that it was relatively uneventful, and unenlightening as I got no advice for finding any kind of joi in my vive.

So I turn to my real source of therapy, you internet, and I ask? Are any of you socially phobic people with no lives who live in small towns and know good first steps to take? Anyone?

It was all my fault, really!

I have a black eye. (Not quite a black eye, but I really did whack the hell out of it and it should be black, but it did open at the outer corner and bleed/scab a little)

As I was going to bed last night my very long day (and several beers) were weighing heavily on my coordination. I was attempting to lie down and place the phone next to the bed on the nightstand at the same time. Unfortunately I over corrected towards the nightstand and... well, whacked the hell out of my eye.

As I was laying there I thought to myself in my weary and slightly drunken state that my mother would think Joe had hit me. Now, there's no reason for her to suspect that, and my clumsiness is well known sober or not. But I couldn't get that fear out of my mind. (Along with a mental image of a terribly impressive shiner, which is why I'm so disappointed it's only sore and slightly scabby)

Luckily my vision is fine, and I have no shiner with which to frighten the people at DFS when I re-apply for Jack's Medicaid. (I mentioned we were poor right?)
At any rate, it was the good story that almost was, but is now a very poor anecdote.

The End.

I sent a feeler out to a local news agency in regards to their interest in hiring a blogger. With so many national outlets using bloggers I thought I may as well put some info out there to gauge interest.
Does anyone have a post of mine that they particularly enjoyed that I should use as an example of my writing?
I made them aware of my profanity in my query e-mail. Might as well get the negative out there at the start.

I promise not to poison any apples

I don't feel like I am a good step-mom. In fact, I'm pretty confident that I am not. I don't always like Caleb, and he really has to be able to pick up on that. Children are perceptive, more so than we give them credit for. I just know that he can tell when I am irritated, and that makes me feel even more guilty. It all feeds into itself and I come to dread the visits more and more. When I was pregnant with Jack and worrying about being a good parent friends would try to reassure me by telling me that the fact that I cared was evidence enough I would do fine. Maybe they were right, because I love Jack with a frightening fierceness. But I just don't have that with Caleb. I suppose it will grow as time goes on, but what if it doesn't? What if I never like him very much and he grows up knowing that? I joke about being the evil step-mother, but it's based in reality as I see all these signs pointing towards it.

I'm impatient, and irritable, and I get frustrated when he can't or wont understand or follow my rules. I feel very strongly that Caleb and Jack need to have the same set of rules in this house, but they are so radically different than what Caleb has at home that I feel like I am beating my head against a brick wall. He says aint constantly, and uses the phrase "bling bling" in a non-ironic manner. His mom teaches him that acting like a little gangster/thug is cute, and that is simply not the way it is here. And I'm sorry, but when I tell you not to let your brother eat the crayons, just because you don't hand them to him yourself does not make it okay that he is in fact eating the crayons. Twice! Then when I tell him that he can't color when Jack is up since he won't keep the crayons away from him, Caleb goes off in a corner and pouts for half an hour. The only reason I don't call him on the pouting is that I expect that if I did it would end in a tantrum and he'd be put in time-out anyway.

Maybe I really am expecting too much, and I know he has to get used to me as much as I do him. We are all adjusting to this, it's new for all of us, I just wish I didn't feel like such a failure all the time.


(On a side note, a complete stranger just came to my door giggling and asking for cigarettes. I just shut the door without saying a word. What can you say?)

Kick Ass

I'ts a good thing he isn't red-headed

Caleb is here for the weekend and I am playing world's most evil best step-mom.

Argh! Gack!

Blogger is being a bitch and doesn't want to load any of the Dashboard pages so I can't get to my template and change my background.
I'm tired of the tie-dye! I want happy pills!

Johari Window

So this is kind of like a meme, but it isn't lame because it's scientific.
Basically you chose a few adjectives that you think describe me. You can leave a real name, or a blog name, or a name I would never associate with you. I'm just curious how people who only know me through electronic means perceive me.

JRM's Johari Window

Then you should make one too! We'll start a fad!

(Oh, and happy 6/6/6!)

Stomach Churning Anger

Finding Thomas has made me depressed and angry. It took me a long time to get over that whole debacle the first time around. I was dead inside for a long time, then when I did feel anything it was massive amounts of hate and anger. I let Thomas chip away at who I was and form me in to who he wanted me to be until I lost myself. That was just as much my fault as his. I was a strong person before him, I should have known better. The first guy I felt anything for after him dumped me when he found out I'd had a baby. I was celibate by choice for three years. There was no way I was going to put myself in a position where I would have to go through all of that again.

Eventually I was in a relationship that was in a way messier than the one with Thomas, but was better in many more. I learned a lot about myself and who I was and what I wanted in love and life. So that was good. I try to focus on that. It didn't work out, but if it had I don't think I'd be anywhere nearly as happy as I am today. I have a lot to be thankful for in my life that way. There were a lot of paths that I almost went down that would have led to very bad places, and very bad versions of me as a person.

The funny thing is, Thomas wouldn't even rank in my Top 5 most important relationships. He would be the third-guy-I-had-sex with blip if I hadn't had a baby with him. He as an ex is nothing, and I'd be more than happy to move on and never think of him again. As it is I am forever connected to this man, who I despise, because he provided half the DNA for my older son. Who, thankfully, looks and acts nothing like him.

Now I have a real man. A good man. A grown man. I have a real family and I know what a relationship is supposed to be. I've matured, and more importantly I've remembered what it means to not have my life decided by the man in it.

Yes, I am still pissed at him. I am so angry that he did the things he did. I'm angry at him for not respecting me or loving me for the person I was. Mostly I think I am angry that he still hasn't grown up. He can't feel bad or apologize because he's still the conceited sociopath he was back then, and is incapable of seeing the damage he caused.

It may make me a bad person, but I want him to suffer. Sure, karma and all that. He'll get his in the end and most likely he'll burn in hell. But I want to see the evidence dammit!
Maybe I haven't matured that much :)

Sperm Donor

So I found the asshole who knocked me up while fiddling around online earlier.

I read his little My Space blog... and he's still an asshole. Want an excerpt? This is from a post he wrote a couple of week's before J's ninth birthday. Mind you, he's married and still talking like this.

"Oh, and don't get me started on the depression creeping in on my spine from the estrogen sea I swim in daily. This much bickering, badgering, nit-picking would kill anyone!!! ITs KILLING ME! I stay on amber alert on my irritation scale constantly! I don't know what I'm gonna do!?! The mystique of women has been destroyed for me. This is not a good thing. I used to think they were the greatest thing God ever made. There was no such thing as an 'ugly woman'. Now? Damn that! They are a pain in the ass, an irritating background noise that chatter like empty cans rolling down a street. They don't say anything positive, they are not uplifting, they are not kind or gentle. Women are mean, vidictive, hateful people. And what makes it worse, they aren't (pardon the phrase) 'man enough' to say what they really mean to each other. "

Yes. I dated and procreated with that man. I'm so proud. If he sounded at all like a decent human being I might have felt the inclination to get in touch and let him know how J and I are, and finally have some closure. But this is the same man who ran off and hid from me with the assistance of his parents ten years ago.

Asswipe.

Today Is My Birthday

Happy Birthday To Me!

As Is

It's easy to forget sometimes what all we have to be grateful for. We can get caught up in the sameness of every day life, and start to go into the what-ifs. You know. What if I'd gone this way or that? What if I'd made this choice or not made this other one.
And then when one of those what-ifs pops up in your life you go off on a very dangerous tangent. *

Then you remember. You talk to your ex for an hour online and fall back into the fighting and confusion and pain and weirdness that you always fell into before.

Joe and I don't fight. Sure, we argue but generally whatever is upsetting us gets said. We say what the problem is and why we are upset and what can be done to fix it. Then it's done. We might make the same mistake again, but we can deal with it.

There is no horrible drama with Joe. I've never been so at peace and so happy as when I am with him. He can irritate the hell out of me, and I can piss him off to no end, but it doesn't circle our heads and fill the air with this horrible tension that always ends up erupting in another screaming and crying match.

Joe can commit. Evidence? He married me. That's some pretty damn good proof right there.

Joe doesn't cheat. Joe wouldn't cheat. I don't have to worry about it, or go all loopy and start to think I am crazy. And he would never look me in the eye and deny it and then a year later confess that a) he lied and b) he cheated on me with three different girls. After all that I didn't trust anyone... until Joe came along. I always trusted him, even when we were living seven hours apart.

Joe's family drives me nuts, but I like them, and they like me and don't treat me like I'm the lowest shit in the universe. I've been welcomed into his family (even though I wasn't asked to be a bridesmaid in his sister's wedding even though all the other sisters were. But I do actually get it)

Above all else, Joe and I are family. We have a baby together, we've made our lives together and I can't imagine my life without him. I love him so much, and I'm beyond lucky to have him.

I'm glad my ex is a prick. He helped to remind me just how good I've got it.


*There was no tanget. I didn't go (or get) off on anything (or anyone). This is just an example of the places that the what-ifs can take you.

You Like Me! Right Now, You Really Like Me!

So Lucinda and MommaK came up with The Perfect Post Awards. A group of women-bloggers award a Perfect Post button every month to someone who wrote something touching, or funny, or memorable that they feel the writer should be recognized for.

Masked Mom awarded ME her nod for the month for my "I think I have cancer" post. True, there is the great and wonderful irony in a post about caring what others think winning an award. But on the much more serious side, it's an amazing thing to find others that share our insecurities, and who can provide comfort and support to us.

I'm so glad to know that I'm not the only one without the TMI gauge. (Also very relieved to discover that incident that inspired the post wasn't what I thought and that I hadn't scared or offended the person involved)

I love the women I've been meeting through this experience of blogging.

I also love winning.