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10.29.2006

It’s not that I’m bitter. I’m not. But you must know that one day you will know what I know. You’ll feel what I feel and experience all that I have. You’ll know the exhaustion from being up all hours of the night for weeks in a row, feeling feverish brows, poking thermometers under arms and up rectums. The tiredness that comes from rising early and bedding down late, from trying in vain to keep a moderately tidy home and semi-clean kids and clothing. You’ll know what it’s like to crave just a little bit, even a half hour, of quiet time for yourself. A time where you aren’t being suckled, poked, prodded or blessedly hugged or ceaselessly questioned. A time when you don’t have to wipe noses, mouths or butts repeatedly. A time when you aren’t raising your voice trying in vain to get a little one to lower theirs. Just a moment of time and space where you can collect your thoughts and sip a scalding hot coffee or nicely chilled wine in peace. Someday you’ll know the frustration of having the “other” walk out on you time and time again leaving you with dishes piled high, children sick and feverish, homework undone, bags unpacked, chores left undone while they go off on their own excursions because they “need a break”.
Seven days a week I work and I run and I run and I run. I get no time to myself, not even for base needs. I have either someone in my arms when I pee or someone walking in to tell me something that absolutely cannot wait.

MamaRage

My child's father drove across town with my oldest child in the backseat. Nothing extraordinary about that statement except this:

He was drunk.

You got it. Drunk. He drove after having way more than a few too many while visiting my father. I don't know who to be pissed at more; him for being drunk and then driving; my dad for getting him drunk and allowing him to drive; or me for being in a bitchy mood, wanting Jaalyn out of my hair and allowing her to go with her dad on his visit to my dad's house knowing that normally they crack open a bottle of homemade wine and shoot the breeze... except that I suppose I gave baby daddy too much credit because I naturally assumed he wouldn't imbibe since he had his GODDAMNED DAUGHTER IN THE FUCKING CAR WITH HIM.

*ahem*

Sorry, lost the calmness for a moment.

I should've guessed what was going on. I should've seen the signs from the umpteen times he called me to say that "everything's just fine" while he was seated in my parents kitchen. I should've known from his slightly slurred speech. I should've known when I asked him how many have you had and he hesitated before answering "...two. But I won't be having anymore because, you know, got the kid and all..."

But I definitely knew when he came in the door practically in tears because he dropped Jaalyn's milkshake on the ground by accident. I knew when he got really angry with me for pointing out that he was more upset than she. I knew when he placed the plate of food my dad packed for me upside down on the countertop. I knew when he told Jaalyn ten times that he loved her and would talk to her tomorrow. I knew when he followed her into the bathroom to say goodbye (forgetting about the 10 times prior) and despite Jaalyn's emphatic "Um, excuse me daddy I need to get some toilet paper" he insisted on hugging her to death and repeated his outpouring of love for her. I knew when he attempted three times to unlock the already unlocked front door so he could go outside. And I knew from the way he avoided coming anywhere near me, knowing I would smell the alcohol on him and once I overcame my shock I'd punch him full in the face.

Just wait til I see him next.

10.27.2006

Puppy Luv

Remember Love#2? Remember I said he should be called Infatuation of the Moment (IotM)? Consider him thus. He's a love. He really is. So sweet, so handsome and so fucking young it's ridiculous. I mean young in the mind, not just in years.

Believe me when I say I am a patient woman. I can easily sit on the floor and play any number of monotonous and repetitive childrens' make-believe games. I can sit through the droning talk of the elderly and the occasional sermon when I haul my heathen tail into a church. But, when it comes to those that are younger than me? Fresh out of the teenage stage and into early adulthood? No patience.

The youthful exuberance is still there. And that I think is cute, albeit annoyingly so. His willingness to fall so (SO!) deep in love with me... and probably anything that crosses his path. But, after a while (okay, the first 10 minutes) that youthful exuberance grated on my nerves. Within the first few phone calls I'm setting guidelines like "No, I won't let you screw me right now... no, not later tonight... not tomorrow either." and answering the age old question of "what are you wearing?" *answer: a parka with a polka dot hoop skirt and roller skates... wtf do you think I'm wearing with two children around the house and I'm frying bacon on the stove? A bikini and heels?*

He's all about fucking and I'm not. Yeah I'm still in my 20s (shut up. I'm hanging onto my 20s until someone pries them from my grip) but either I am way old before my time or I've matured beyond the "what's the freakiest/nastiest/kinkiest/sluttiest thing you've ever done?". It simply doesn't appeal to me. It NEVER appealed to me. He's doing his best to get his mack on (God, do people even say that anymore? Should it be getting his game on? I am old.) and I'm on the other end of the phone reacting like he's just run his naked nails down a chalkboard. God, if I wanted a boy toy this would be the kid to go to. And yes I called him a kid. That's all he really is.

And I've enough kids of my own without taking on a new one.

But he really is so cute. Like a new puppy. But I hate to love 'em and leave 'em so I guess I'll just...

Hm.

10.22.2006

It's Snot Smelling Like Roses Anymore...

In fact it's not smelling like much of anything. We've been hit with severe head colds and congestion all the way around. And can you guess who's got it the worst?

Not me.

Not Jaalyn.



Poor thing. She's chock full of snot and just miserable and she's been that way for well over a week now. Day and night she's getting saline up the nose, the snot sucker dohickey shoved up there, tissues wiping and frankly she's just sick of it. It's almost funny to watch the momentary terror on her face as you come near her with one of the aforementioned objects. The eyes go wide with terror, then narrow with anger and the fight commences. The fists come up to block the nose and face, arms flail, legs kick with such force that sometimes she lifts herself off the bed.

It's funny how motherhood can become so deeply imbedded in you that you don't even think twice about sticking fingers up noses, down throats, wiping butts and the occasional shit that gets on your fingers fails to gross you out anymore; instead you just wipe it on the nearest baby wipe and keep on going. That's mama love there. I mean really if I were dating a man and the odd humdinger was hanging out of his nose how likely am I to stick my finger up his nose and pluck it out without so much as a break in conversation?

Yes, I'm lacking in romance. Is it noticeable?

But I did do something remarkable. Something reminiscent of my former self. I approached Love #2 mentioned here.

Yup. I spoke to him. You might not realize why this is such a big deal but you have to realize this is a guy that I've not-so-secretly been lusting after for more than a year now but hadn't said more than 5 words to a week ("Hi, How are you?"). But we did in fact speak... we did share... and we exchanged numbers... sort of.

He called, we talked and I realized something that I'd completely forgotten. He's so cute, so sweet and so adorable and so, so young. I mean he's not jailbait but he's not too far from it. It's evident in his speech, in his dress, in his mannerisms. And I can't believe I completely forgot about the age factor. Now I can clearly recall what scared me off from him in the past. That damned youthful exuberance and persistance. The "I love you's" in the first week; the "when are we moving in together?" the second; on to the "let's do everything as a couple and be completely inseparable because I love, love LOVE you SO much I can't bear not to be apart from you one millisecond and I must hear your voice a bazillion times a day because if not I will simply DIE."

But. I think he may have realized that I wasn't as into him as he was into me. Because he's less enthusiastic this time around. Or it could've been the "I don't want any type of commitment" line from me that clued him in. He's such a complete love though. So wise in the ways of the street but ignorant in every other aspect. Typical of young black men, much as I hate to say it. It would be so easy and SO tempting to take on the role of teacher in this instance. To teach him to make a woman happy in and out of the bedroom (and if you're wondering, NO I have no clue what he's like behind closed doors. Bad enough he sneaks kisses to catch me off my guard.)(and if I have my way I'd prefer to teach him everything outside of the bedroom because really? The whole sex thing isn't working for me right now). That's a role I haven't had in about... nevermind. In a long time, okay?

But, getting back to his absolute cuteness and adorableness. Do you remember getting your first puppy as a child? The absolute joy and esctasy of having something so darned cute but then as it grew you gradually lost interest in it? Until the next cute pet came along? It's the Paris Hilton syndrome.

I could totally be this boy's (sorry, MAN) sugar mama. I could totally spoil him rotten and lavish everything on him. But would it be fair to him because I know damned well that my feelings for this one won't last? Safe to scratch the moniker Love #2 and quickly rename him Infactuation of the Moment. To my credit, I have told him already that I'm not looking for committment, that baby daddy is somewhat in the picture though as what I'm not sure, and that quite frankly I don't know what the hell I want but I do know I don't need a serious relationship right now. He says that's cool, he's kinda in the same boat and get this. His desire is to spoil me.

So, we'll see. I'm single mommy to two. Might be sugar mama to one.

10.13.2006

Okay, okay, Let me clarify what I said...

Yes, I wrote that I was thinking about marriage.

I did not write that I was getting married. See the difference?

I did not say that marriage would make me happy. And for those that tend to read a little too much into what I write allow me to say:

Marriage will not make me happy.


Yikes. The messages. Everything from congratulations to "what the fuck are you thinking?" to just plain "WTF?"

See, the thing is I've sort of lost my will and drive. I'm not striving to be deliriously happy anymore; I'm striving to be content and to make my kids supremely happy in every way that I can. If it means making a sacrifice here and there, so be it. I can see myself being content with baby daddy but not happy.

And truth be told, I don't think my prince will ever come. That's the kicker right there. I don't think there's a Mr. Right for me. There's not even a Mr. Right Now for me. No man of the moment. Nothing. Nada. Of the three individuals I detailed here nothing has changed. One still has his woman, the other I love from afar and still don't have the balls to admit the depth of my feelings and then... there's baby daddy. Not exactly my prince, but part maker of my babies so I guess that's a point or two in his favor. In a relationship I could rule and reign with my iron fist and there'd be little protest. So I suppose it could be... nice. Not thrilling. Not heart pounding passion. But okay in a monotonous way.

And keep in mind these are thoughts. Not like I'm passing out invitations to the black tie event. More like I asking someone to please slap me with some wit and wisdom to help me regain my old blazing and fiery personality. I've pulled away from the postpartum depression. I feel good. I'm even beginning to feel a little something about my appearance in general.

Okay, that's a lie. I still care very little about my appearance so long as I'm clean and neat and maybe a bit of makeup but I confession it's jeans and t-shirts every day. I look like a teen mom with my baby daddy cast off shirts and ponytail. And it's amazing how when I put on makeup I tend to look younger vice older. Go figure.

10.08.2006

A Single Mom Confession

Well I got my DVR and I love it. Still trying to figure it out (would probably help intensely if I actually found the directions and read them) but all in all it's great. I've only missed one show so far that it didn't record and I think that's because I started viewing the tail end of the program or because I was watching Most Haunted on OnDemand or... hell I don't know. All in all I love it.

But I am very bummed out because I think my camera is broken and I can't figure out what’s wrong with it. All I get is a blank white screen on the LCD. I’ve changed the batteries, checked the memory card (the pictures I had on it downloaded just fine), checked to make sure all the compartments are closed, punched buttons and pressed things and although it makes all the right noises, the LCD screen stays oddly white.

And, not 5 minutes after writing that baby daddy has fixed it. He did the exact same thing, removing the batteries, memory card and so forth and damned if it’s not working again. I’m happy but annoyed. He said I should have patience; I say you did the exact damned thing I did wtf does that have to do with patience? Anyway, we’re both baffled as to why it’s working again and why it suddenly went on the fritz. But hey, this could be a reason for me to invest in the camera that I really want. Eh?


‘ (that little mark is Trinity’s first blog. She’s fascinated with the keys on the keyboard and managed to hold her coordination together long enough to hit a single key… then she screamed in frustration because she couldn’t hit any more.)

And since this is the Confessions of the Single Supermom blog, allow me to make a confession. The other day I voiced my disdain of marriage. I do truly feel that way. But… at the same token I have been giving thought to (God I canNOT believe I am about to admit this…) marriage to baby daddy.

Yeah. Let that one sink in slowly.

Now let’s get this straight, I’m not thinking of marrying him for the um, traditional reasons. Not for love. It’s not that I don’t have a love for him. I’m not in love with him but I don’t hate him anymore for the past. We’re good friends, probably the best of friends and at one point we were about to walk down the aisle (till the what-the-hell-am-I-doing-he-treats-me-like-shit thing hit me). So, it’s not like I’ve never thought of him in that husbandly light before. But before I wanted him to be a “true” husband, the head of the household, the decision maker, the bill payer. I know now that he will never be all the things I want him to be. He will never be that perfect father, let alone perfect husband. He will almost always give in to what I want or say. I know I will always have the upper hand in the relationship. Since I have a dominating personality I guess a relationship like that will work.

Let me back up a bit to when baby daddy and I first were together, before he was my baby daddy. When we embarked upon our relationship we’d both come from, um, a promiscuous past. I’ll admit it, I dogged men. Even when I was young, because of the guys had treated me, I had an extremely low opinion of men. I guess I always have. I was so angry at men for hurting me so bad that I treated most of them like Kleenex: use them once and toss them away. By the time I’d gotten with baby daddy my conscious kicked in and I had decided that from that point on I’d be the good girl. The woman depicted in Proverbs, the submissive, homemaker girlfriend/wife. And for the duration of our relationship I was that woman. But now… oh hell no. I’m not that way at all. I’m bossy, I’m bitchy, I’m opinionated. I still make the home but I can do it alone with no problem. But I look at my girls and I look at him and his ineptitude… sigh. When we were together I mothered him to a certain extent. His own mother had passed a year prior to us meeting and in a way I took her place. What can I say, I’m a natural mom I guess. Anyway, I look at him now and… he could be so much better IF he had someone to guide him in the right direction. Joining forces WE could do so much better. Especially financially.

Would I be happy? Continuously? Probably not. But the kids would be happy I guess and that’s what matters most. Would I be 100% faithful as I had the first time? I’d give it a shot but since he doesn’t satisfy me sexually I can’t say for sure. But hey, I guess sex is one of those things you can practice until you get it right, eh?

All the wrong reasons for taking that leap into a commitment where only the cold clammy hand of death or a helluva lot of cash can separate you. I know. That’s why I’m confessing it here. This blog, my hidden outspoken audience, you my dears are my sounding board.

A very opinionated sounding board.

10.06.2006

Guess What?!

Guess what?

I'm happy.

Shh. Don't tell anyone.

Want to know why?

Because I am having my DVR installed by Comcast today and I am so FREAKING thrilled to finally get it.

Why might you ask? Because I am a total TLC/Discovery Channel/Travel Channel/HGTV/Style/E! junkie.

And I'm a complete Most Haunted slut. I love that show. And I almost always miss it because I either a)fall asleep before 10 when it comes on, or b) forget and then when it repeats at like 1AM I'm too chicken to watch it alone in the dark.

See, the thing is everyone that knows me knows I am the biggest chicken in the world when it comes to scary stuff. Even mildly scary stuff. I mean (and I say this with shame) the scariest movie I could watch from beginning to end was Killer Clowns From Outer Space. But hey, I was like 10 or 11 years old at the time. Oh and don't even think about showing me a movies involving dolls.

shudder

Remember Talking Tina from the Twilight Zone? That episode still creeps me out and forever ruined me sleeping with a doll ever again as a little girl. And those ventriloquist dummies? I remember seeing a movie that scared the shit out of me as a kid and to this day I hate those things. There's even a Jimmy Neutron episode with one in it and THAT scared me.

So how come I can watch Most Haunted now? All the spooky ghosties, possessions and bumps in the night? I dunno. It makes me jumpy as hell around the house at night. But for some reason I love this show and all the paranormal shows that flit around the Discovery Channel and Biography Channel, like Ghost Towns, Dead Famous, America's Most Haunted Places.

And now, I can record each and every episode and more and prove that I am Discovery Channel and TLC's bitch.

Because really. How can you not get enough of Little People, Big World?

And Neat? And Clean House? And What Not To Wear? OHHH and Iron Chef America and Paula Dean on the Food Network?!

The absolutely hilarious thing about this entire post is that for years I've always hated to watch tv. Unless it was educational and I suppose all the shows I listed above are educational since I'm learning something (duh, TLC = The Learning Channel. Stupid I am.).

But now? I'm getting moist at having something remotely similar to TiVo. And I can't WAIT for the cable dude to get here.

Happy. Very, very happy.

10.05.2006

Randomness...

Random thoughts:

Why is it that every man I know is such a complete asshole? Last week? I had no less than three men, on the same day, utter the most moronic statement in response to my postpartum depression: Get over it and move on.

Fuckers.

Word to the insensitive jerks that uttered such idiotic words. DUH. If it were that easy, I'd have done it by now. Do you think I want to be depressed and feeling like shit under your shoe that you're constantly dragging across the concrete trying to get off? Fucktards.

I am getting just a tad bit better though. It comes and goes. I think a lot of the time my appearance plays a big role in how I feel. The baby weight I've yet to lose, the acne breakouts from all the fucking hormones that are hanging on for dear life in my system instead of exiting like all nice little pore clogging hormones should; My lack of a decent wardrobe and my disinterest in creating one. Come to think of it, my disinterest in life in general is probably the problem. Depending on the day, I no longer care about my appearance; and conversely, depending on the day I will attemtpt to make an effort to look less like a bedraggled mouse the cat dragged in and attempt to look human, perhaps even female and if I've the time I'll even put on makeup.

Okay, truthfully on most days all I'll do is put on makeup and the rest of me still looks like hell. Everyday it's t-shirts and jeans and sneakers. I've little interest and little time for anything else. If I have an extra 90 seconds in the morning I might even put some heat on the shirt to knock out the wrinkles but that's pushing it. Anyway, moving on...

What the heck is up with people asking about my marital status these days? Not that it's anyone's business. But I've noticed a difference in treatment, much like when Jaalyn was a baby, at the daycare, in coworkers, casual acquaintances and so on. Everyone assumes that I'm either married, should be married, should be planning to get married or at least getting back together with the girls' father.

Please.

The last thing I need is a man. Yeah, I'll cop to wanting some affection and companionship every now and then but marriage? Forget it. No. Not ever. In this lifetime. NO. One failed marriage is enough for me and think about it. How many married couples do you know that are 100% faithful to one another? How many married couples do you know that are happy? All around me are failed marriages including mine and my folks and my friends so for the love of heaven why would I even want to chain myself to some Neanderthal for all eternity? I realize that I'm being overly pessimistic but still. It's the pressure and the questions that annoy me. (I'm annoyed alot lately can you tell?). At the daycare I'm treated like a teen mom that's so clueless and ignorant I can't be trusted with my own child. Then they found out I have a 5 year old. In private school. And living on my own sans the dad. Blech. Suddenly maybe I do know a little something... but I'm not left alone with their husbands. It'd be amusing if I actually gave a damn about them or their husbands but since I don't, moving on...

I'm trying. I really am, to pull myself out of my slump. That's what it feels like right now. Now I feel like I can pull myself out of this fog and onto higher ground if I could just find the footing to get me there. But I'm so tired I'm nearly demented and I can't see the forest for the trees. It's like I need to take a step outside of myself and examine my life, but I can't. I can't concentrate long enough to do it. No peace. No quiet. There is no time when I'm not doing something. Even in my sleep I'm repeating my to do list like a mantra so that I don't forget anything in the morning (as I invariably do regardless so it's pointless to do it but...).

I need a vacation from myself I think. I don't know. Will whine more tomorrow.

Maybe.