oh-niner

I hereby deem 2009 the year of the baby arms.

I haven't had full use of mine own two arms since last november (and even then I couldn't exactly use my legs the way they were supposed to work).

I've always got a baby in them.

sometimes it gets a little frustrating...a wee bit overwhelming to watch my old life not so slowly and not too terribly quietly wither away...but I've made (mostly) peace with it.

climbing, riding and travelling are all fun...but I've been there, done that, and will get back to it.

his baby year is almost over. so fast. sooooo so so soso fast. it pretty much deserves my undivided attention.

and...that's what it gets.

my house is a dumphole. I look like shiznizzle and I'm so far out of "shape" it's almost comical.

people used to call me muskles.

haaaaaaaaaaaaahahahaha.

no.

the only time my calm gets rattled is when I worry if I may never get "it" all back. if I'm never fully suki-like, again. if I permanently lose my mosquito-like climbing style. if I throw up on a bike...but can't keep riding. if I'm never quite as sassy (in a good way....and not this sleep deprived semi-psychotic shit) again.

oqui assures me that it'll come back, but...

my arms are chubby. this doesn't sound like a big deal to many, I'm sure...but its kinda devastating to me to have a little chicken gobbler going on and not have the time/energy/inclination to go sweat it off.

not to mention pull-ups. I used to bang out 20 pull-ups with 20 pounds on my back. I was supa strong.

I'm not so sure I can do even one single pull up these days.

tragic.

I used to have abs. slightly used, somewhat damaged post (first) baby abs...

but six, seven or eight of them always available to run my hand over in times of self doubt (whoa! I'm not sure I can climb that. *rubs hand over tummy* relax...you've got ABS)

so, my plan is to stay calm. focus on the immediate goal (keeping the kid from bashing his head or falling off a cliff). stay POSITIVE about future prospects...

and sleep when able.

I wouldn't be surprised if I get a little softer before I firm up, again...

but I WILL get my muskles back.






eventually.

to oq with love

dear oqui,

if you ever (ever ever ever ever) wake me up at 4:30 in the morning again because you're hot, I will shave your entire body, rub you with a savory spice mixture, shove a rod up your ass and out your mouth...

and roast you in the yard.

I was up THE ENTIRE MORNING after your lil' announcement of your uncomfortable body temperature.

I did NOT sleep through your fifteen alarms. I did NOT sleep through you kicking the child's toys around. I did NOT sleep through your shower, the ironing board creaking or the dogs licking their asses.

I really didn't sleep at all.

in the future, if you should happen to find yourself being a little too warm at night ( I WONDER WHAT THAT'S LIKE???) I'll thank you to very quietly extricate yourself from the room (without spilling your water or bitching audibly), take your skinny ass downstairs...

and adjust the fucking thermostat...

silently.

Thanks for your cooperation in this matter.

All my love,
Teh Suki

prescription

talked to a counselor/therapist (what's the difference) today.

I think I've got the right chica for the job. she breastfed twins, was so exhausted she could hardly move and knows precisely where I'm coming from.

I rambled about miscellaneous and random stuff and once cried about my dying tree outback.

she ended it with, "you need sleep. you MUST sleep."

my lame ass reply was, "I'm trying."

and that I am. things don't get this out of hand for me without an effort to control them...I just can't seem to find or regain a rhythm that let's me relax enough to REST.

but...when I got home, I was totally anihilated so I asked the monkey to take the prof for a walk while I snoozed.

it was short and sweet...and now I'm worried like hell for my children, but I napped for the first time in...

don't know. long time.

I had some chili (deemed gluten free by the manufacturer's "safe" list). gonna have a little more chili...

then maybe another couple o' minutes o' nap.

not too bad, I must say.

not too bad.

exhaustion, thy name is suki

fuckingfuck damn shit fuck cock ass fuck bitch whore slut fuck.

I'm tired.

the baby went complete retard last night and DID NOT SLEEP at all. we took turns hating him all night long.

at least four hours of screaming put a major dent on my "rest up" plan.

I'm toast. I feel like I'm walking through wet cement. I suddently want to start murdering shit, again.

not sleeping is not helping.

what I want to do right now = nap.
what I DON'T want to do right now = climb.

so, what are we doing, you ask??? going climbing.

fucking brilliant. the last time we hiked out to the quarry, I was destroyed before we got to the crag, fell on my first lead of the day (a 7 or 8)...tried a 10, got my ass handed to me in a bad way...and barely made it back out to the car...

only to be so far beyond exhaustion the whole next week that I was near psychosis.

why am I going, then, you ask?

duty. oqui "needs" to get out of the house (obviously more than I "need" to rest)...so I'm reluctantly (extremely reluctantly) sucking it up and taking one for the team. we met as climbers, and since he isn't the one actually feeling like his life is being sucked from his body on a regular basis...I can see how he doesn't quite understand where I'm at.

when they say that physical activity and exercise are good for depression...that's for people who actually get to sleep at night.

for me...

exhaustion piled on top of fatigue...

is just a fucking nightmare.

PPD FTL!

I'm not sure why it's taken me so long to realize it...but I'm thinking I've got some pretty wicked post-partum depression going on.

I should've put my finger on it sooner. it happend when the monkey was about the same age. it got sooooo bad. soooo sooo bad. in hindsight, I'm pretty sure its why her father and I split up, in fact. but...I don't remember much about those days. I don't remember starting solid foods, her learning to crawl, when she first sat up, her first tooth...nothing. all blotted out of existence by my zombified state.

this time, it isn't so bad. I'm having "stability issues" (but if you read this blog, you already know that)...but I certainly don't want to off myself (not that I did then, either...that would've required too much enthusiasm) or have bad thoughts about the Prof. I'm happy with my baby...just kinda defeated about everything else.

but feeling better already knowing that I don't hate oqui, our relationship isn't doomed...I'm just dealing with some pretty nasty hormonal upheavals and need to sit tight and try to relax.

oqui and I have both done some reading on it. I really like the one book I'm reading that suggests that is entirely an ENDOCRINE issue NOT a mental health issue.

word, dawg. I'm not fucked in the head...just screwed in the hormones.

everything just seems to have slammed me at once. the eating. the vitamin deficiencies. the fatigue. the prof learning to crawl and forgetting how to sleep. the return of the hated auntie. nursing hormones. stress...

not a pretty combo, but certainly not the end of the world.

when I called the midwives to ask their suggestion I got REALLY angry (this is a frequent occurrence) at her reply.

me: I don't know why I didn't see it sooner.
her: yeah, we've been suspecting depression with you since early in your pregnancy.

thanks a million, bitch. in one breath you tell me to seek IMMEDIATE help and in the next you tell me that this has (in your opinion) been affecting me for over a year.

not gonna lie, I feel a little betrayed. did she have so little faith in my ability to deal to even broach the subject with me? just wrote me off as a bitch and left me out to dry.

so uncool...but on the flipside, I had an amazing delivery, am super bonded with the baby and he's doing REALLY well, so who gives a crap.

I won't take anti-depressants. not my style. even it comes down to the need for hormones...I'll go as far as progesterone. it won't affect the Prof while I'm nursing. no estrogen. no thyroid hormone...not until he's done nursing...

which, as far as I can tell...

is never.


's cool though. my boobs are gigantic (for me).

sooo sleepy

whaaaaaat is up with me?

last night I feel like I finally got some (albeit interrupted, but) decent sleep. woke up feeling pretty durn good...well, the fourth time I woke up I felt ok. 4am, 5:30am, and 7:30am were a slightly different story.

I got up, did some chores, had a little sunflower seed butter on a rice cake (yes, I'm still eating reetee food), played with the Prof, was thinking how wonderful it is to see the world through well-rested eyes...

then hit a frickin wall.

sooooo sleepy, again. suddenly, my arms were too heavy to lift, the baby was just waaay too far away to chase and it was really incredibly and intensely hot in the house.

something's up. could be my diet. could be the drain and strain of nursing. could be summer. could be the blahs...

but it definitely feels like something physical. thyroid, maybe? the bad-ass return of big girl hormones? I think my stankbutt attitude is definitely a result of the physical fatigue...moreso than a cause.

so, again I say...whatup?

I'm just too tired to be accommodating. normally, oqui and I would go climb or ride off an argument, but these days he mentions a bike or a rope and I'm like...bitch, please. I'd have to stand up to do that.

I suppose a dietician and a gp are in order...

but...I don't feel like looking up the numbers.

blue's clues

I said to the dogs, "behave! we're only going to be RIGHT NEXT DOOR. in fact, RIGHT OUTSIDE THIS WINDOW. don't do anything dumb...I can sense your energies."

gave them both dirty looks then left them there, uncrated, to stop in on the neighbors' barbeque.

an hour later...we came home to blue's clues.

the lil' son of a bitch had torn apart not one, but TWO pens (I'm convinced he ate the disposable first, and having not gotten the desired effect (of ink all over the house) dug through drawers, bookbags and attaches until he found a fountain).

living room rug- destroyed.
guest room carpet- stained.
master bedroom carpet- equally stained (yet strategically so, so as to set-up the innocent dog who usually sleeps there).

pawprints EVERYWHERE. (you gotta find the next pawprint. that's the second clue. then you put it in your notebook, cause they're whose clues? blue's clues)

oqui found the first trail leading into our bedroom and called down, "IT WAS COOKIE!" I asked him if she had any ink on her and found it strange that he replied no.

hmmm...pawprints abound, but no ink on the dog??? (then you find the last pawprint. that's our third clue. (blue's clues. blue's clues))

as oqui scrubbed his way through the house, I fed the baby (I ALWAYS feed the baby. feed the baby. feed the baby. nurse the baby. feed the baby. nurse the baby, etc).

he came downstairs (just loudly enough to wake the then sleeping baby) with a dog under his arm and an incriminatingly blue paw held high. (sit down in your thinking chair and think. think. thiiiiiink.)

suspect apprehended. (when you use your mind. take a step at a time. you can do...anything. that you wanna do)

he was tossed in the bathtub with no regard for his debilitating fear of it (he had it coming) and given the scrubbing of his life. and more scrubbing...and scrubbing, scrubbing...

long story short: the dog came somewhat clean, as did the hardwood. the rugs are toast (which certainly won't help me sell this house) and the dogs are goners.


but...it really was kinda funny.

if you don't have anything nice to say...

say nothing at all.

hence my lack of blogging for the last week and a half or so.

I'm angry. I'm frustrated. I really don't like the way things are panning out.

I'm scared this isn't going to get better...

and, unfortunately, I'm almost at the point of not giving a fuck.

it's getting dangerous. I know it is because I don't even feel like talking about it, anymore. my rantings, ventings and ravings are my outlet. when I don't care enough to do that...

well, its nearing the point of not caring at all. the emotional shut-off valve.

if my words aren't being heard. my requests going unanswered. my pleas and concerns temporarily placated, but not resolved...eventually I'm going to stop trying.

we've entered the days of long walks...alone. phones on vibrate. lacking eye contact.

there's a pattern. one I'm not fond of. it's bad. I say I'm hurt. there's sympathy. its better. its bad again.

frankly, I'm getting tired of it. last night I told him (again) that I DO NOT ENJOY conflict. it IS NOT a release for me. I DON'T DO make-up sex...or make-up anything else, for that matter.

being impolite doesn't make me feel better about myself the next day. "having it out" only makes me not want to have "it" at all.

he doesn't believe me when I say he goes looking for trouble. that when he's frustrated he picks on me until the inevitable fight occurs...then he feels better.

I don't.

he better start believing me. he needs to listen.

I told him I'm not in the business of trying to change people. the choice is his how he wants to behave...but then the choice is mine whether or not I'm willing to live my life that way.

I've done the drama thing. sometimes by my choosing (bad relationship that lasted way too long) and for 15 years NOT of my choosing. I grew up in a household where the so-called adults had little or no emotional control. fits were common. displaced anger. unhealthy communication. I spent the first half of my life wishing I could leave.

I'm a big girl, now. If I have to...

I'll leave.

moving sale

I'm getting rid of everything I'm not currently wearing or sitting on.

consider it a ritual cleansing.

I'm gonna blow the craigslist server.

EVERYDAMNTHING is going.

goinggoinggoinggoinggoing...going.

if you are in need of a particular item...chances are I have two or three in my basement, attic or shed.

place your requests.

everything goes.

end of the line

well, folks...

that's it. we are officially and completely out of money. in fact, we're so out of money we're in the red. way red. super mega galactic red. we're so red its black and blue.

we gave it a good run and tried like hell to hang on to this house, but we're at the end of the line.

I'm not sure whether it'll be sold, foreclosed, bartered, traded or nuked...but I'm done pissing my kids' futures away on a mortgage that yields me absolutely NOTHING in equity.

the neighborhood is gorgeous and the schools are awesome...but when my daughter needs $2,000 worth of textbooks her first semester of college (god knows...by then they might cost more)...

I'll be damned if she has to borrow to buy them.

looking at apartments. reducing expenses. going to school.

making this future thing happen.

climbing like monkies

I'm proud of my daughter.

she led her friend on a pretty fast-paced hike (including two hanging wire water traverses)...

to the crag.

she then reached the top of every climb we put her on...and asked to do it, again. (this had NOTHING to do with the ice cream bribery, I'm sure).

she hiked on out with a pack and a climbing rope on her back with an air of confidence I'm not used to seeing in her.

it was cool to see my kid handle herself with such self-assurance...

even cooler to see her climbing and carrying a rope.




...there is hope for her yet.

karmic bitch slap

I need to realign my energies.

the universe is getting back at me.

for me...it tends to manifest itself in physical, more specifically, mechanical ways.

the volvo is in a bad way. after having the timing belt and water pump replaced less than a month ago, the something or other cam, hydraulic, exhaust crank whatchamajigger in close proximity to said belt, is now blown, as well.

blown on the way to west virginny, but I'm soooo not ready to talk about that disastrous fiasco, yet. maybe never.

on the way to pick up the dying grocery getter...a stone cracked oqui's windshield...

right in my face.

I saw it coming about 45 seconds before it happened. I knew.

I also know where this is heading. If I don't correct my cosmic swirl...this could get bad. really bad.

times of transition and indecision tend to bring about this energy for me.

I'm done trying to figure out the signs...I'm just gonna (very calmly) look inside, figure out what I WANT and project a positive future. I know how powerful my mind is. I delivered a baby in less than 3 hours with literally NO PAIN.

full moon is next tuesday. I can reign this in...I just have to relax.

wrong move

what was supposed to be a quick drink and a song or two has turned into six hours at a concert with the boys...

while I'm at home with the baby...

when our relationship is at an extremely fragile juncture...

when we JUST HAD this fight three days ago...

when I'm feeling a bit insecure about this whole gig and he knows it...

bad move.

there's no way in hell I'm marrying someone so hell bent on acting like a bachelor.

I am soooo not the wait at home with the baby while her man parties type.

I'm half tempted to be gone before he gets home...only thing stopping me (in this as in all things) is the sleeping baby.


I'm over the arguing bit. I'm done with drama. I'm not gonna fight.


it was just a really bad fucking move.

wedding's off.

better that way.