Where I Ramble Emotionally About Marriage

I don't know how to wrap my head around the feelings I have when a couple splits up. Part of it is fear, how can P and I expect to maintain a marriage if they couldn't do it? Part of it is worry, because what if they are making a mistake? Did they go to therapy? Did they try hard enough to work it out?

And part of it is envy. To be willing to do something like that to make each other happier. I don't think P and I are mature enough for that.

I'm not talking about envy in the sense that I wish I were single, I can't imagine having to deal with the BS of dating again, of searching, waiting, and in the end having the same issues that we have now. I like the routine we have in our lives, I like the challenge of breaking out of that routine every once in a while to do something exciting, but then to be able to fall back into the comfort of a long-term relationship.

But I envy valuing myself enough to take that plunge into the unknown (though for this particular couple, who were married later in life and already knew the single life, I guess it's not really unknown), to give up so much that I had worked for in the last few years to start over, hoping for something better. I don't doubt that they still love each other, but it wasn't working, and they decided to call it quits.

At times I have thought it would be easier to be single, to do it alone, and do it my way, but I'm willing to sacrafice control in order to maintain what we've built together. The rough times have thus far been temporary. Yes, there are lingering issues, but when I took my vows I meant them. I'm not giving up without a fight.

In the larger context, I think that a lot of people are giving up too soon. This isn't a judgement, because there is no way I will ever know all the dynamics of the relationship, I can never know all the bits and pieces they brought to their union, and how hard they fought to make it work. I do know that a lot more people are getting divorced now compared to 30 years ago. I do know a lot of children are suffering the loss of a parent.

And I also know that the divorce process is easier than trying to work it out.

But I'm bummed out. I never saw it coming. I thought they were one of those quirky couples who, although very different from each other, they were madly in love after all these years, and they were going to stay together forever. I keep coming back to it in my mind. All week it's beein weighing on me, and not just this couple, but others as well, it's like a wave crashing over us and some couples are being washed apart by it.

And I wonder how deep P and I's roots are, what our foundation has been built on that has held us steady for so long. What would be the stressor that breaks us? Our marriage is riddled in conflict, but somehow we've been able to get past the obstacles. Us. Both children of divorce. Is it our pasts that make us unwilling to give up the fight? Is it Boogie that softens us to change? What the hell is it that casuses some people to divorce, and others to stuck together?

What is it?

On Friendship

Sometimes you grow apart as friends, and there is an awkward period while you redefine the relationship. If things go well, if we are okay with change, we come out on top with a relationship just as strong, or stronger, than the one we started with.

Some people start out not wanting to be friends, and somewhere along the road realize that we have a lot in common, that we can learn from each other, and grow into a natural comfort with each other.

And some other times, no matter how much you want it to work, it just doesn't. Some times we want different things. Sometimes I can't make the commitment to nurture another friendship, and sometimes I don't feel like I'm getting enough in return for the effort I'm expending. Often I feel like the one waiting to be granted admittance to this exclusive club, to become a friend, rather than just an acquaintance, but I'm not okay waiting anymore, so I give up and stop trying, and the friendship melts into a fond memory of the past.

Whatever path it takes, I'm learning to be okay with it, rather than fight for what I want, I'm trying to allow it to happen as it is meant to be. It's hard to let go of what I want, but sometimes it's not what's best for me.

Boring Blahbity Blah

I don't know about the rest of the world, but when my brain is full and I need to remember something new, I'm pretty sure some obsolete fact that I haven't reviewed in years is pushed out to make room for the next new tid-bit.

I sort of feel the same way about my friends. I have a lot of acquaintances, but only a few close friends. And I never seem to have more than a few at a time, no matter my intentions. I was checking out the profile of someone I used to be friends with on myspace (because I'm creepy like that) but really I miss her boys and I got to thinking about how right after we stopped talking, a new friend sort of took her place.

Not intentionally, but I think I'm one of those people who likes to be involved with people, and I get overwhelmed with the obligations that can come along with too many close friends. That, and I don't want to expend the effort if it isn't going to be beneficial to both of us to maintain the friendship. I'm a busy woman, see.

God, this blog sucks. I need to stop with the rambling and write something funny, and interesting, eh? I'm just really having trouble processing things without writing lately, my world seems to have lost some of it's order, I feel hyper-sensitive and I need to get it out before it drives me batty, so.. to my three loyal readers, sorry.

I'll try to find some pictures to put up soon.

(But back to the friend thing) It seems like some people have endless supplies of friends, and I just don't. Or maybe I do, but I don't consider them friends? And realy, what distinguishes a friend, a good friend, and an acquaintance?

(Answer: my mood, and whether I've had my coffee yet, right?)

I think if I tell you intimate details of my life, you're a good friend. It I just tell you details, you're probably just a friend. Everyone else that I speak to is an acquaintance. Maybe? But for me intimate is ... well, you know who you are and what I say without censoring myself. Maybe a bit more TMI than most, but I'm over pretending to be without flaws. Too much energy wasted.

I forgot what my point here was, just to say I guess that I have a limited number of spaces open, a limited amount of time, energy, and self-disclosure that I'm willing to invest when you really never know how long a friendship will last. I value my time alone, so maybe that limits it too.

Eh, who knows. Tomorrow morning I may have something amusing to write. Maybe not though.

Helplessly Individual

I did a home visit with a client yesterday afternoon, and on it, I met an educated, strong Black woman who should have been in her prime, but was instead a disabled single mother, raising two kids on less than $800 per month. She was alone. I couldn't do anything to help her.

Ever day at work I see people like me, my classmates, my peers, who come in downtrodden, beaten up by the world, disheartened, depressed, wasting their lives at low paying jobs, neglecting their children, then escaping it all through drugs and alcohol. And I can't help thinking why not me? Why didn't I turn out like them? We came form the same neighborhood, we both were raised by single mothers, we went to the same schools, we made similar mistakes, and we ended up so differently in such a short time.

One thing I noticed is that I never fit in. Feeling like a part of something has always eluded me. I can't wrap my head around how other people think sometimes, how they spend money frivolously not thinking of the future, or want to spend all their time getting wasted. I'm an outdoors girl, hiking or at a park with Taryn, or taking her someplace to explore something new. I want to do something when I have time, I need to be busy or I feel lost. And those people who had all the friends, not all of them, but many of the ones I see at work were more interested in fitting in than discovering who they really were.

The other thing I noticed is that I've always been surrounded by good, strong people. My mom is the most amazing woman I have ever met, I am so blessed to have her as a guide in my life, and she has struggled to show me that I can succeed at anything I put my mind to. She has shown me other examples of strong women, not Oprah-rich or well-to-do, but those women who have overcome obstacles most people could never imagine living through and they learned to love life at the end of it all.

Right now I am surrounded by mentors, people who I learn from everyday, even when they don't know they are teaching me a lesson. One is helping me to learn how to face conflict in an open and honest way right now, something I never learned to do. She is helping me learn to resolve problems I have while maintaining the relationship, just by not letting me push her away while being bitchy. Another is showing me that no matter what your circumstances, you can always go higher, do better, reach for more. It doesn't matter your educational background, if you fight for something, you're going to achieve it.

And I feel like I need to do something with this knowledge that I have. I feel like I've been given the gift of being an outsider, and by flitting from place to place, never being able to get comfortable enough to stop growing and learning, but I haven't helped anyone. I want to do something. I want to help people. I don't have enough money to feed the hungry people I see, or buy all the kids new sneakers, but I feel like I could help someone do better than where they are now, but I don't know how.

The client that I saw last night told me an inspirational story of her dying on the way to the hospital, and being ripped away from the peace and love of people she loved, back to a world of pain and heartache. I know she's here for a reason, she doesn't know why yet, and I'm not so self-centered to think she was brought back just to inspire me, but she has. I need to do something, to spread my good fortune and faith to other people, but I feel so helpless as an individual.

So there it is. I'm asking the Universe for a sign. I've asked before, and God showed me He was real, more than once to be honest, and call me crazy, I'm pretty sure that one day soon, I'll have an outlet to help people. I don't believe God has given me all these lessons and knowledge to keep all for myself.

Closed Doors

(It's a long one... just to warn you)

Sometimes it jumps up and smacks you in the face that you are different from the people around you.

Mostly, I don’t consciously think about those differences. I skate through life with the assumption that people who look like me are treated like I am, because I’m self-centered like that. It’s sort of like forgetting that other people still exist when you aren’t with them, assuming a long-lost friend is the same person they were when you knew them, because, they can’t change if you aren’t there to see it. Right?

But once in a while, it becomes blaringly obvious that we are not a homogenous society. And much as the US has become a “melting pot” there are still those people who are not as accepting as others and maybe it’s an unconscious reaction to a perceived difference, based on skin color or gender, or a prejudicial assumption about a person, but we people of color are treated differently than our white counterparts.

It’s a good sign to me that white people assume we are treated the same, and that people of color receive the same benefits as they do, but it’s also disturbing that they are oblivious to the discrimination that we deal with on a frequent basis. I think it’s positive because it shows that they themselves don’t believe that we deserve less, but it also creates a divide between us because there is a huge part of me, a major influence on my past and present, that they can’t understand.

And really, this county is more accepting of racial differences than other places that I have lived, but I get the feeling that a lot of it, especially with older generations, is a front. They are courteous when you are a customer in their store and they know you’re going to be putting your money in their pockets. They are polite when you are in a position of authority to help them. But many are also blatantly racist when they make an assumption about your heritage, your economic situation, your marital status, or whatever. Sometimes they make racist remarks about a culture they assume you are not connected to. Sometimes they treat you with disdain because they assume you don’t deserve their respect.

This all came about during a conversation this morning in which a blonde-haired, blue-eyed coworker of mine looked perplexed when I pointed out that when I was pregnant, people in our building assumed that I was here to apply for some type of welfare benefit. I was trying to make the point that based strictly on appearances when we were pregnant at the same time, employees were more likely to hold the door open and let her in before the building was officially open, than they were to do the same for me.

She sort of blew me off like I was being dramatic, not in a rude way, but more like she obviously didn’t take my comment seriously. And I was sort of stunned, because it’s something I dealt with often when I was pregnant, trying to walk into the locked building after someone else, and they would go so far as to pull the door shut after them when they saw me coming and saw I was close enough to get inside before it closed and locked behind them. I just don’t see that happening to her. And I know she has faced her own battles for other reasons, but I can’t hide who I am. I am judged on sight and I can’t do a damn thing about it. She is judged on sight too, but unless she was with her partner, I doubt most people would pick her out to discriminate against.

I’m not trying to imply that my struggles are worse than hers. In fact, I think she has probably had to fight a lot longer, and a lot harder than I have against our respective prejudicial magnets. I’m just saying that anyone who is prejudiced against Black people, Latinas, young women, young mixed women in the workplace, pregnant people of color, Black people who are too light-skinned, Black people who marry out of their race, people of color who are doing well for themselves… any combination of the above and many more bullshit reasons, I get it. I’m not even Latina and people are racist against me simply because they think I am. I’m treated like shit by White people for having darker skin than them, and Black people for having lighter skin. I get shit from Black men and Latinas for marrying my husband. I have people tell me that I think I’m too good for them, since I’m not hooking them up with extra Food Stamps. I have older people tell me that I’m too young and naïve to understand what they are going through. I get shit from bosses for talking too much, or not talking enough. I get shit from coworkers for doing too much work….

And I know we all have out struggles, I just get so frustrated sometimes that I can’t escape mine. I can’t walk down the street and have people think, “Oh, she looks like a nice person,” because the minute they see me I’m slapped with hundreds of labels, and people are reacting to their perceptions of me without my doing a damn thing. Not everyone has that curse.

But sometimes it’s a blessing, because I can look at another person like me, and I get it. There are a lot of prejudices I feel sympathetic towards, but there is no empathy because I’m never experienced it. But there are so many that I’ve dealt with, and learned from, and I appreciate that knowledge because if I was even slightly different, I might not know what I now do.

So that’s all. No hard feelings, just processing. And I am a little sad because I will never meet anyone who has dealt with what I’ve gone through. I ignore our differences sometimes with the hope that I’ll feel totally understood one day, but I think the real issue is that I need to learn to let go of that need to feel understood. There are so many fragmented parts of me that I haven’t wholly integrated yet. It’s my life lesson, maybe, to see myself as a whole person, so then I can really feel that way.

Undue Influence

Call it an independent streak, but for the most part I don’t do what P tells me to do. Unless I want to.

I used to think that was normal, my Mom didn’t take shit from any man and would tell him to fuck off in a hot second if he crossed an invisible line into None-of-Your-Damn-Business land, same with my aunts and granny, and so I got it honest, yes? But the more I’m around couples, be it married folks or just committed people, I’m starting to think it’s not so normal.

I don’t think it’s bad. I don’t think I could change if I wanted to, because that is how I was before we were married, and I know P resents me when I start getting super dependent on him. Which does happen on occasion when I’m having a hard time, or just feeling needy. But I’ve consciously tried to maintain the mentality that if something happened to him and we weren’t together anymore, I don’t want to be completely alone and helpless. I do get angry when he’s out all night, not because I’m home with the baby, but because I worry about him doing something stupid and getting hurt.

In my mind, he appreciates that he doesn’t have to worry about me. I’m super-self-sufficient, not the type of woman who needs him to fix things for me, or hang a ceiling fan, or wash my car. I don’t do garbage, but I’m okay with being the one outside on a freezing, rainy Sunday morning walking the dogs, or the one who brings in the most money for our bills. But as I write this I’m thinking, maybe I’m projecting? Because I don’t like having to look over his shoulder to make sure he gets his stuff done, reminding him to pay his credit card bill, or to pick up after himself. I appreciate people who can take care of themselves, and though I like being appreciated, I rubs me wrong to be needed. Except by Boogie, of course.

I digress though, maybe a bit? I’ve noticed a lot of women friends of mine lately who have said, “I can’t do X because so-and-so won’t let me,” or something to that effect, and it always stuns me. Because in my mind I’m thinking, “I wish he would tell me not to do something that’s important to me. Let him hear what I really think.” And it’s not that I’m looking for a fight, but I don’t tell him what to do (usually) unless he asks, and even then I’m hesitant to give him the answer. But also, I can’t imagine asking “how high” when he says to jump, although that seems to be more common than I previously imagined.

And really, I suppose it’s just a difference in relationship style. There is inevitably one person who has slightly more authority, and I think I took on that role, partly because of my mastery of the English language, but more importantly because that is how I was raised, to not have to rely on anyone but myself. Not in an isolationist way, but in order to be self-sufficient. But I also know that if I don’t do some thing because P asks me not to, I resent him. Unless there is a good reason for it.

I’m all about open communication, and I am willing to alter my actions if I understand why it might not be the best idea, and I agree. But I’m not giving anyone veto power over my life. I deal with my fair share of tantrums and silent treatment from him, and it irks me. But at the same time I have to stay true to what I need to do, like going out with my friends and not inviting him along, or speaking my mind when something comes up, even if he doesn’t want to hear it.

Maybe I’m overbearing and insensitive? It’s a possibility, but that view could also be based on people’s perception of where women should be in the relationship. I know a lot of people defer because they want to be taken care of, and that’s fine. I don’t agree, and I don’t want to give up a part of myself for a sense of security. Maybe I’m destined to always have a companion and not a soul mate, and that’s okay with me too. I’ve been like this too long to make such a radical change without some hard evidence that it’s the best thing for me.

Call me New Age, but I think it’s about time women had a voice.

Loyalty

There aren't a whole lot of times in the course of a friendship in which you are able to prove, without a doubt, that you got your friend's back.

One I remember was at a party a few years ago. We were all standing around outside, drinking beer and having a cig break from the noise inside. Two guys started fighting about some BS, something about one being Mexican and one Brazilian, and they got all macho on each other and started swinging. Tere got popped in the face, and my first reaction was to jump on the guy who hit her. P grabbed me, picked me up and carried me inside where B was getting ice for her face.

Now I understand that B wanted to take care of his girl, it's sweet really, but I wasn't about to let someone walk away without getting hit back for punching her like that. And I didn't care if it was an accident, I didn't think, I just reacted.

Last night was another one of those nights. P got into an altercation with a restaurant manager. The manager started shoving him around, and without thinking my first reaction was to jump in the middle of them and try to get the guy off my husband. P was trashed. He wasn't thinking straight enough to defend himself, and none of his "boys" were doing a damn thing either.

The manager shoved me out of the way, grabbed P by the neck and pushed him down an outdoor flight of stairs. So I, in all my unthinking glory, jumped on the manager's back, holding onto his arms so he wouldn't go after him again. P was stumbling to get up, and the manager was a lot stronger than me and shook me off. He shoved P again, knocking him into a table and he tripped over a chair and fell. I grabbed the manager's face and was shoving him away from P, the guy kept raising his hand to hit me, and I dared him to do it, knowing he'd never make it out of a crowded bar alive after hitting a female in front of a bunch of drunk men. Finally some big guy from the bar came over and held the manager back while I calmed P down who was ready (haha) to kick the guy's ass.

And I was pissed. I couldn't fathom why in the fuck all these guys would stand around and let P get beat on, knowing how drunk he was, and not even stepping in when I was the only one trying to break up the fight. I don't want to be racist, but is it a thing with only minorities that we will defend each other no matter what? I knew P probably provoked the guy, but I also knew P couldn't fight him off, and I think his friends knew that too, but they would have let him get his ass kicked.

I wasn't even drunk, because if I had been I might have started swinging on the manager, which is not the right thing to do. But since I had stopped drinking probably 3 hours before, my only thought was to protect him from this guy who was raging. I'm so disappointed not only in how P was acting, but the lack of reaction from his friends. And maybe it's misplaced anger, but I would hope that my friends would jump into a fight with me if they thought I was getting my ass kicked. At least step in to help break it up.

And I'm not talking about high school, hunting some chick down and jumping her for some stupid reason. I'm talking about seeing your friend in a situation in which they could potentially be seriously hurt (like being shoved down a flight of stairs) and not remaining a bystander.

But whatever. That's how I feel about my friends. I'm loyal. Even if you've pissed me off recently, I'm still going to be the one to jump into a bar fight with you, or lock you in the trunk of my car so the police don't get you while you're still drunk. And I'll be the one to admit to the police that yes, I jumped in. So if you're going down for assault and battery charges, I'm going right with you.

Peer-Pressure Boyfriends

I've seen two ex-boyfriends in the past 48 hours. I know this county is small, but is there something He is trying to tell me?

Both of these guys were peer-pressure boyfriends, you know that guy (or girl) you date because they are your best friend's cousin or your parent's friend's nephew? The person you are not really into, but you give it a try because if they have so many good things to say about them, maybe they really are a diamond in the rough.

There was absolutely no hanky panky with these two. Call me shallow, but I just could not get past not being physically attracted to them. And maybe I'm unlucky, but I've never been so WOWed by someone's personality that I didn't care what they looked like. Well, maybe once, but only once.

Don't get me wrong, I have crushed on guys who were less-than-stunning, but normally they were so intimidated by me that we never were more than friends. And sadly, I've spent more time with gorgeous a-holes than the aforementioned sweet boys, but I've got a serious sweet spot for a pretty face and a hard body.

But I digress....

Both of these guys were somehow related to my two best friends at the time. Neither was what I would normally go for, and yes, they were sweet, but I remember both being very needy (serious turn-off to me) and more interested in trying to get in my pants than trying to get to know me (also turn-off). Neither lasted long, and neither was a real "boyfriend" as I don't remember any inclination on my part to not look for something better while I was seeing them. What an a-hole I am.

The sad thing is that I think they may have really liked me. I was so cruel back then, on the prowl for my perfect man and totally discounting anyone who wasn't exactly what I thought I wanted. And it was for a reason, I was looking for P, but I didn't know that, and I was too self-centered to consider their feelings at the time. It was all me, all the time. And it didn't help that they seemed to agree, they were both aware (I think) of me checking out other guys, and I may have been a bit of a flirt and really didn't give a hot damn about trying to conceal my intentions towards other men when they were around. Even after I basically told each that I was bored with them, we still hung out as friends, but I would still strut around like a horndog on a stick looking for my next conquest.

So anyway. No point really, just trying to figure out what the karmic mesage is in seeing these two this week. Any ideas?

I Will Never Be Bourgeois

I was BS-ing on myspace again today. I had loads of work to catch up on, but really, who wants to work when you are so stuffed from a work potluck, you've got serious doubts about controlling your gag reflex, and anyway, I was in baby-zone and seeing if any classmates had been knocked up recently. Or done the knocking.

And I happened upon a friend (although really, I was looking at a friend of his who used to like me, back in the day maybe 15 years ago) and I started to realize that I could never be that. I could not be dressed up when the sun is still out in my Daytime Fancy with my man decked out in his Summer Suit, champagne glasses carefully placed beside a centerpiece overflowing with pink and purple blossoms.

In my house, when the champagne comes out we've either run out of other alcohol, or are transitioning to the hard stuff. My dress-up clothes are more likely to be black knee-high boots with an above-the-knee denim skirt and a booby shirt, instead of a long, formal velvet dress. I think tattoos are hot, and not the shit-tard "tribal" arm bands, but crosses and bleeding hearts, portraits and panthers and beautiful, sentimental designs. Huge hoop earrings, layered necklaces, stilleto slingbacks, gelled waves and dark eyeliner, that's me, not this mellowed-out I have to dress like my father so I'll be successful in like crap.

I don't have a problem with other people doing it, it's just not me.

It's just odd sometimes, when you see how people turned out when you both started in the same place. Okay, maybe they started out with less morals and more money, and look where it got them! More money and still less morals.

Interesting...

She Misses Her Boyfriend

Taryn was rummaging around my closet today. As long as I can hear her, I don't worry, it's when she gets quiet that she's usually doing something naughty.

After a few minutes, she stopped rustling papers, so I got up to investigate and see what mess she had created. As I leaned into the closet, I saw her holding a photo in her hand.

She looked up at me, pointed to the picture and started laughing.

He finger was dead-on over Jackson's face.

I smiled back when I realized she was looking at their Christmas card from this year that I had put into a box to keep for her. When she saw me smile, she looked back at the photo card and started smiling too. And she walked around the room for a few minutes, clutching the card in one hand, periodically looking back at it and smiling, like she had forgotten what she was holding onto but cool! There's JAckson in her hand!

Then she dropped it in the bathroom when she attacked a roll of toilet paper, and I tucked it away for safekeeping. I think she'll be very happy when Nanny gets back and she and Jackson can play again.

We Do What We Can

How do you help a friend who's hurting? Besides smacking your husband in the mouth and telling him to shutthafuggup about how much he wishes they would get back together already (My Love, it takes time. We all want them back together, but if things doen't get worked out first, this is bound to happen again).

I didn't really smack him. At least not in the mouth.

So P and I did what P and I do best. We opened some wine, bought a couple packs of cigarettes, and distracted her as much as possible, for as long as possible with assinine trivia, Yahoo! News stories, and planning our Living Will. Or Trust, whatever. It's not written yet, but she had excellent insight in some things to consider.

And then we clogged her arteries with Burger King at 11:30, which slyly encouraged her to go to sleep soon after. And because we got her sloshed on day-old Sangria and two liter bottles of White Zin, she gets a day off work today! And maybe being busy would have been easier, but I'm hoping the time to focus on herself will be just as fulfilling.

And of course, after she slept we had to stay up and discuss more ... randomness, so I don't remember what time I went to sleep, and P was up later than me, but he actually got himself up and showered and to work. Poor guy. While I sit and blog, drinking my coffee in my PJs and contemplating which novel to dig into, he's probably at work now, uber-starving with the post-drinking BGs. Hehe.

But I'm sending my good juju to my Buddy today, and hoping that last night helped just a little bit. I'm so sorry I can't do more for you.

Dimension of Confusion

Due to our lack of childcare for the next couple weeks, an event almost entirely out of our control, P and I will be alternating days to take off work to watch T-Boog. As soon as we figured out that we don't exactly have someone to watch her the whole time I called Blondie and Toe-Nail-Less and let them know that they too will have to find someone to watch Cheeks until Nanny is back. I offered to watch him while I was home with T-Boog, and assummed they would take me up on the offer so that Blondie could see him at lunch, and really, it just seemed easier than asking around to find someone else to do it.

But this morning I found out that I won't be watching him at all, and I'm pretty bummed out about it.

I think of Cheeks more as my nephew than a friend of T-Boog's. He's awesome with her, very gentle and playful and friendly, and such a joy to be around. Admittedly, the thought of watching them both was daunting at first. But mentally as I ran through what a day would look like, I started getting excited. I want to know what it will be like to have two kids, and although it's probabaly harder with two this close in age, I thought it would be a great experience for me, and would (hopefully) give me some insight and confidence about having another baby. I had already figured out the hot spots, feeding and naptime, and how I would be able to handle both at those times, and also if I could put T-Boog's old carseat back in my car and take them to the park, or something.

I guess it's my own fault for assumming I would get to watch him, without hearing difinitively that it would happen. But really, what's compounding the disappointment is the fact that they offered originally to pay me what they pay Nanny to watch him, but decided instead to pay someone else more to do it.

So then I'm left thinking, what the hell? Do they not trust me to watch him? Why would someone who can't afford more for ongoing childcare pay a neighbor or another friend more than they offer to Nanny?

And it's not that I would want anything to watch Cheeks, I would do it for free to help them out. And I get that paying Nanny more on an ongoing basis is very different than a one-time gig, but still.

The mind-tripping is being super compounded by the extra dose of caffeine today, and I should probably just let this go, but I don't understand. Do they not feel like she deserves more? And what would make someone choose to pay a childless friend when they could have a mother watch him for free?

I think my own insecurities are coming up, that I'm not a good-enough mother for my own child, so why would someone trust me with their kid? Is there something about how I act with T-Boog that would make someone not want to leave their child with me? Is it a personal thing? And in a quasi-emergency situation, what would I do? Could I hanlde two kids? Should I even consider another child if a friend won't leave hers with me for a day?

But I know I can't take it personally. I have friends who are mothers that I would not necessarily leave T-Boog with, but I never considered that people might think of me like that. And I still think of them as good friends, and would leave T-Boog with them if I absolutley needed to, but maybe that's whats thought about me. In an emergency? Yes. If we have any other option at all? No.

But really? Fuck it. I can't trip off this because what's done is done. It just adds another dimesion of confusion to the relationship. I know that my intentions and my love for my child are as pure as they get, so I have to take these three extra days alone with her as a blessing. Maybe we'll get a chance to go to the beach again, or maybe to a fair, or the Farmer's Market. Because these are things we can't do with another baby with us. And I can't assign thoughts and intentions to others, because that just builds resentment (on my side) that's impossible for them to dispel because I'm too much of a chicken-shit to tell them how ... truth be told, I'm hurt, but it could be completely misplaced and irrational, and I have to get over it.

Soooo. I'll be off the 9th, 10th, 12th, and 17th this month. If anyone wants to hang out?

Success!

For the most part, T-Boogie's birthday was a load of fun. We had seven babies under a year old attending, eight children under thriteen years, a seventeen year old and all the adults who brought them. A bit more than I had planned on coming, but we made a ton of food and somehow managed to feed everyone, and for the most part keep people entertained.

I know now that next year, we're doing pizza. BBQ was too much work with so many little people around, but of course next year if I'm not sick, I may change my mind. I was running around all day Saturday morning, taking T-Boogie to her first gymnastics class which was awesome, and buying ice, balloons, and all the other stuff I forgot to get beforehand. T-Boog's Nanny helped so much with preparing the salads, and of course some of our guests showed up at the park before we did! We saw the neighbors leaving while we were still loading up the cars, and I had to yell over them to take their time since we weren't set up yet.

It did go a lot longer than I was expecting too, which with so many babies meant some tears and fussing, but I think they all did fantastic, considering. And T-Boog got her first taste of vegan chocolate cake. She LOVED it, but it was odd because not all the babies did. Maybe because she was the only girl eating it?

Anyway, we completely slacked and took ZERO pictures. I'm hoping to get copies from the other folks who took some so I can show her later that we really did it big for her first birthday. Except decorations. I was so frazzled that I forgot to give out hats, or put any decorations up at all, and I remembered after kids started leaving that I had goody bags for them too, but the people who stuck it out longer ended up getting that reward! Next year, it will be easier, I'm sure. I have to keep reminding myself we did well for the first kiddie birthday.

I went home at 6, before everyone left, to put T-Boog to bed, and by the time she fell asleep she'd already been awake for almost 6 hours. She only slept 30 minutes, then woke back up, so we brought her downstairs and filmed her opening her presents. She loved the boxes and paper more than the actual gifts, but she's been having fun downstairs all day playing with them. The clothes are freaking adorable, the toys are perfect, and all in all, (besides the sinus infection, sore throat, etc) we all had a fab day.

Wasted Day

And I started it out wasted too.

We went to Cache Creek last night. Or this morning. Whatever. Had dinner at Moylan's around 9, on the road to butt-fuck I don't even pretend to know where by 10:30-ish.

Wait, rewind. Beer at Moylan's. Cazadores at Teresa's right after. More Cazadores at the gas station while P bought water and B filled up. More Cazadores when we arrived at Cache Creek. Some gambling, a margarita, and more Cazadores. Then a late dinner (I think we sat down to eat at 3:30am? Maybe 4?) and headed home to arrive back home at 6am.

Ohmigoodness. My head was pounding. I can still feel the monkey in my brain beating my skull to get out. Didn't get anything done, and wasn't I just saying this is exactly why I don't go out partying much anymore? Fun times though, and I'm glad we got to have some sort of celebration for our birthdays.

I'm going to slepe now. Hopefully I'll be sober by tomorrow morning.

'Nother Flashback

I saw an ex- at Safeway last night when T-Boog and I stopped to pick up some oatmeal (for cookies), shortening (for Tere's birthday) and yogurt (For T-Boog, ya'll knwo I dont have money for me!). I only mention this because this is one of the few times I went to Safeway with a list, and only bought what was on it. Yay me!

So anyway this guy was more of a non-sexual, friendship that turned into a quasi-dating situation until I realized he was entirely too young for me (the only guy I've ever "dated" who was younger) and we called it quits but stayed friends. I'd seen him over the years, but not for the past few, since P and I bought the condo. Which I always thought was odd, since it is right down the street from where he used to live. But evidently he shacked up with an older woman (14 years older, I think), bought a house, had a kid, then split up.

Now he's got full custody of his son who is just a bit older than T-Boog, and goes to bible study during the week. It's a trip how some things change, you know?

But I asked P if he would have a problem with me bringing T-Boog to go play with his kid, and he sort-of flipped out. And I guess as a woman, a wife, and a mother, I am very aware of how men react to all those labels, and honestly, most don't think that's hot. So I hadn't tripped off the fact that maybe he would feel threatened, but I guess he did because the first thing out of his mouth is some dumb-ass comment like, "Can I bring my ex over to play too?"

Okay, whatever.

Anyway, I don't see what the big deal is. Why shouldn't T-Boog have more friends? Maybe I'm just not the jealous type for not seeing the issue, or maybe I just trust him. Regardless, I'm sure this won't be the last time something like this comes up. T-Boog is bound to go to school with another person from my past eventually, seeing as we live in the town I grew up in, and so many people don't ever seem to leave this place.

It was kind of cool to see him. I'm happy he seems to be doing better than the last time we saw each other. I guess sometimes it just takes people a while to get their shit together.

Mind-Tripping

I am all about intention, and I know I'm being sensitive, but I'm getting super-irked lately with the flippant comments people are making. And I'm not trying to be passive-aggressive here, I'm really not, because I know I'm reading waaaay too much into them and getting hurt over nothing.

Like saying my baby is screaming like a banshee because she's "just learning she can do it" even though a conversation was just had in front of you about me imitiating her and possibly encouraging her to do it. And this pissed me off for two reasons, even though I know it wasn't said to be mean, because first, she was screaming in pain and any mother could see that she was in serious pain, the bright red face and tears and snot running down her face, her lips turning blue from not breathing enough, arching her back and generally being inconsolable to the point I was shaking I was so scared of what might be wrong with her and considering taking her to the ER and having P drive Ally back to work. She doesn't cry like that for fun. And second it's insinuating that it's my fault she was crying, which okay, if she was playing around that would be one thing, but skew it to my fucked up brain and it makes it sound like it's my fault she was screaming in pain.

Moving on.

Or commenting when I tell someone that I'm working overtime that you aren't so desperate for money that you would drive out here for OT and miss spending time with your child. (Finish reading before you come over here...you know who you are). I know it wasn't malicious, and I know you'd never say anything to hurt me and I know you're going to apologize once you read this, but I kept hearing that little phrase in my head and I started to get pissed. Not at you, but at the fact that yes, I'm broke. Financially, as a couple P and I are royally fucked right now, and I'm already frustrated that he's got so much debt that just gets higher and higher. And for some reason mine fells totally manageable, maybe because I make more, or maybe because I don't blow money on bullshit like he does. And I started to get embarassed and ashamed of myself for the situation that I'm stuck in: having to miss 1 day of my weekend to work overtime so that I can buy Taryn presents for her birthday. It's fucking lame, and I pissed at the damn situation.

And just to round it out, I'm frustrated why someone can be pissed that her partner doesn't defend her when she is called names by other people in front of his face, and in the next breath call my husband an idiot, and stupid and all types of shit. It doesn't make sense to me the double standard, that it's not okay to call you names, but it's okay for you to call him names? I know that person was going through a rough time, and I didn't want to detract from the point of the story, but damn. That's just fucked up.

*sigh*

So anyway. I've been hyper-sensitive lately, I know it. That's why I don't say anything. I know it's my mental fuck-ups that make me read so much more into things than a normal person but I had to vomit this all out before I drove myself crazy, running around and around the situations like a hamster on a freaking wheel.

At home with with P, I'm lovey-dovey, mostly accommodating, but also very quick to point out error and proposed solutions.

When I am interacting with Taryn, I am also very loving, but much less critical, and very thoughtful in my praise.

Conversing with some friends, I am more outgoing, sharing my ideas and stream-of-consciousness freely, but with others I am reserved, more apt to listen than offer my own opinions.

In the work environment, I am super-quiet, very hesitant to call attention to myself, reluctant to offer any insight in a situation, and generally stick to myself, my office, and my business.

The more I've thought about it today, I think these are all genuine facets of my personality. I can't say that one is more "me" than another, although I do feel more comfotable in some situations than others and am more likely to be open with some people, as opposed to others, depending on the context of our relationship.

I think I am generally a reserved person. I prefer to observe a situation and get a feel for the ideas and beliefs of those in it before I make myself known, and I feel like I've almost always carried that guardedness with me. But people who know me know I'm a dork, a loud-mouthed goof when I feel comfortable, though I feel like I always try to stay conscious of my affect on others.

Maybe the difference in comfort level has more to do with the extremes in emotion that I am willing to show, which I always feel but possibly hide better from people that I don't want to know me too well. If you've never seen me pissed, that's a huge part of my personality that I haven't.. for whatever reason... shown to you.

I don't know. I almost feel like there is so much to me, it's hard to find anyone who has seen most, or all, of me. Even those people who are closest to me don't know a lot about one part of me or another, and maybe it's normal? I think it's kind of cool to have a special relationship with someone, to share inside jokes and stories, but to have some things that are only between you and someone else. I don't know if I'd be comfortable if someone knew everything about me. What if they decided they weren't impressed after all? Or they got bored with the lack of mystery?

And I don't feel like I normally intentionally withhold parts of myself, but I think in a way it's fun to be able to be that different person sometimes. If I feel like I need to vent, I can slip into the wife-role and have a glass of wine with a girlfriend and bitch about how much it sucks to be married sometimes. Or if I want to escape the wifey-ness I can dress up in a hot little outfit and go clubbing with some of my single girlfriends.

I do wish that some of my friendships could involve more than one facet of my personality, but sometimes it just doesn't work out like that, maybe because I hate using the phone, or because they already have enough people filling that role for them. Anyway, I appreciate my friends for what each brings, and I love them, and shit, my breath hella smells like garlic from lunch.

Yech....

If You're Going to Love, Do it 100%

When P and I were married, I debated whether or not I should take his last name. I have an affinity to my maiden name, Francis, partly becasue I knew how to pronounce it correctly (and I was having doubts how Caballero would sound rolling off my tongue on a daily basis) and partly because it was one of the few things I had of my father, besides the Francis nose.

I remember thinking how much a pain in the ass it would be to get all my documents changed over to a new name, driver's license, social security card, credit cards, bank accounts, school records... and then what if it didn't work out and we were divorced a year later and I had to change them all back?

At some point, I decided that if I wasn't willing to change my name, as a symbol of being married, even though P didn't give a damn since in Latin culture the wife doesn't take her husband's name, I knew that if I dind't it would be a constant reminder of the faith I lacked in our marriage.

And honestly, the first year we talked a lot about getting it anulled but kept delaying and delaying until it was past a year ... and then we talked a lot about divorce. Less, but still frequently enough to regret every once in a while that I had become "his wife." But at the end of every arguement we both realized that we didn't want to split up, we loved each other madly but we just didn't know how to get along.

Fast forward a few more years and I still have to remind myself on almost a daily basis that neither of us are perfect. He's lazy, I've got a short temper. He drinks a lot, I blog all day. But we're still madly in love, and by no means perfect, and by less means easy, but we're still together. But when I look at him I still feel the love, and when I look at our daughter I know that even if we weren't meant to be together forever, we've accomplished an incredible feat of creating and nurturing an amazing little girl who will grow up to know that her parents love her more than anything in the world, and that she was conceived in pure love. Maybe a bit drunkenly, but it was love all around.

I heard the other day that a friend may be getting divorced. This person has been holding those divorce papers over her husband's head for a while now, first threatening to get a lawyer, then to do a divorce on the internet, then actually printing out the forms, researching child support, and last I heard she'd actually signed the forms and handed them over.

You can't live like that. You can't con someone into staying with you by threatening to leave. By taking away the intimacy, and his freedom, and financial support. That's not a marriage, and I think when it gets to that point, and when you use the kids to hurt one another, at that point you either need to sit down and figure out your issues, or call it quits.

And the adults think they are suffering, but really it's the kids who end up carrying the pain and anger for the rest of their lives. And if you can't come to an amicable agreement between yourselves to divorce, at least don't drag the kids through the mud, making them choose who they want to live with, making them feel guilty for loving one parent differently than the other, and possibly making them leave their sibling. It's really fucking sick how selfish divorcing partners can be, and I hope that if P and I ever come to that point, Taryn won't be caught in the middle. We both agree now that I'm the more attentive parent, and I hope he wouldn't fight me for custody...for the sake of fighting.

Damn, depressing for a Sunday morning. But I believe in not doing something half-assed. If you are going to make a change in your relationship, for the better or for the worse, do it all the way. If you are going to seperate, get two different apartments until you decide if you will stay married, don't let the kids witness the fighting and hatred and think that is how marriage is supposed to be. If you are going to do something to strengthen the relationship, self exploration or whatever, do it all the way.

As for me, I'm getting a tattoo. :)

P got my name tattooed on his body before we were even engaged. I refuse to get his name... I've got possession issues, but I want to find something to symbolize us, and what we've been through and all that we've overcome so that he knows I'm not pussy-footing around in our marriage. This is for real.

Ebb and Flow

Sometimes we click, sometimes we don't. More often than not lately, it seems like we're strangers. That the calls and the emails are obligatory. We plan to get together but then something always comes up and we're left exactly where we started.

It's to be expected. We're in different places now. When we first met, we had so much in common. Over the years we've both grown into independent adults. I've gotten married and had a child. You are on your way to the same, but squeezing the last bit of freedom out before it happens. It's to be expected.

We both have new friends. Your friends go out and party, travel, they don't have families to come home to, mortgages to pay. My friends are more home-bound and I know it's boring for you, and I'm sorry for that, but I've partied all my life. Now I'm doing the same in a new way. I have to be near my baby. I won't waste time getting ready to go out, or being so hungover the next day that I can't enjoy my time with her. You don't have the same worries I do. It's to be expected.

People grow apart in life, sometimes they grow back together. As much as I'd love to flow with you, seems we're at a lull. We have different lives, different priorities. You won't let me support you, and so now I don't know what to do. It's not that I feel useless, but you say you need this and that, and you still won't let me help you. There are all the grand plans, but none of them are happening. And I don't want to be the nag. I won't nag you. If you want to see us, we're here, otherwise... I can't take the responsibility for maintaining the friendship all alone. I don't have the energy.

So we'll see. Life events have a way of bringing people back together. My only thought is, is this happening now because you know you are leaving? Is it easier to push me away now, and not have to deal with it when you finally have your bags packed? If it's easier for you, fine. As long as you're conscious of your motivations. It's always easier to leave then to be left anyway.

Maple Syrup for the Soul

I'm a sap. A friend of mine just sent me a note, and I didn't know how else to save it, except to put it on this blog and hope the writer doesn't get embarassed.

Can I just say? I really value your friendship and appreciate that fact that we can speak so candidly with one another, about everything. It is very refreshing to have a healthy relationship with another funny, intelligent, beautiful woman. Maybe I didn’t need to say all this but I figured you couldn’t read my mind. I am realizing that I have been feeling “Happier” since we really started getting to know each other. I promise I will never do you wrong. I know this sounds cliché but you are like a sister to me. Alright, I’m done being mushy…

Isn't it a trip how such a simple yet honest note can make everything better? Not that I was sitting here feeling sorry for myself, but certain events in the past year or so have utterly destroyed my confidence in choosing and maintaining friendships, and this quick note just let me know that I am capable of being in a healthy friendship with another female.

Gawd, and the compliments? Funny! Intelligent! Beautiful! Can't go wrong with that powerhouse. So now I'll tuck this little gem into my pocket and pull it our whenever I need a little boost. When the coffee runs out and I'm sleep deprived and the baby is crying, I can still feel appreciated.

(SOB-heheheheh. Let me know if you want me to take this down, I'd totally understand)