my mom read my blog last night. she said it was "funny."
I vaguely remember being funny...
I shall try to blog again, someday...maybe even today.
...but, after a nap.
a lonnnnnnng nap.
...and maybe a quick trip to the ER.
...and some mashed potatoes with yellow gravy.
...maybe then I'll blog.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
big strong men and a moving van
foot down.
we're not buying this house. should the heavens open up, angels drift forth and hand me an incredibly large sum of cash to be used only for the purchase of this property...
I'd say no.
TOO.MUCH.WORK.
I've had the shit (and vomit) kicked out of me for the last two...or more, I can't remember...months and DO NOT FEEL like ripping out a kitchen, replacing a bathroom, putting in a new furnace or having the trees trimmed.
oqui's got a bum shoulder, so whatever work we might've thought to do ourselves and save some money....so not gonna happen. hiring people to do the work would put us so far over our (imaginary) budget that we might as well just declare bankruptcy now.
so....today we go a'looking. we've got a short list. 6 properties. 4 school districts. prices all over the place...
one of them...will be our new home.
we're gonna lose a little chunk of money walking on this deal, but...
I don't give a hairless rat's hiney.
this place is bad news....has been from the start and we are OUTTA HE'RHE!
...oqui hates my guts over it (as does our realtor)...
but he'll just have to deal.
we're not buying this house. should the heavens open up, angels drift forth and hand me an incredibly large sum of cash to be used only for the purchase of this property...
I'd say no.
TOO.MUCH.WORK.
I've had the shit (and vomit) kicked out of me for the last two...or more, I can't remember...months and DO NOT FEEL like ripping out a kitchen, replacing a bathroom, putting in a new furnace or having the trees trimmed.
oqui's got a bum shoulder, so whatever work we might've thought to do ourselves and save some money....so not gonna happen. hiring people to do the work would put us so far over our (imaginary) budget that we might as well just declare bankruptcy now.
so....today we go a'looking. we've got a short list. 6 properties. 4 school districts. prices all over the place...
one of them...will be our new home.
we're gonna lose a little chunk of money walking on this deal, but...
I don't give a hairless rat's hiney.
this place is bad news....has been from the start and we are OUTTA HE'RHE!
...oqui hates my guts over it (as does our realtor)...
but he'll just have to deal.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
mercy!
I've had enough of the pukes.
sweet jesus a'mighty,
enough, already.
pllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllease stop.
pretty please.
sweet jesus a'mighty,
enough, already.
pllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllease stop.
pretty please.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
thought
I should really take down that preggo pic...
lest I continue to get knocked up.
(thinking ahead, I am)
lest I continue to get knocked up.
(thinking ahead, I am)
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
guilt
don't I feel like an asshole?
worse, still...don't I feel tremendously, heart-wrenchingly guilty?
yup. sure do.
we found out last week that I was pregnant with twins, but one died.
died...right about the time I wrote my hateful, selfish "do not want" blog. I KNOW I was overwhelmed; physically, emotionally, mentally...and now I know why.
but I also know that I was so reluctant and hesitant to accept my fate that I forced the little soul right out of one of my babies.
now, I'm not feeling self-indulgent and whiney, here. despite many people's attempts to convince me otherwise...I know what I did. I'm taking responsibility.
I didn't have enough. I couldn't handle being pregnant with two, nursing another, being sick, being scared, etc...and that bothers me. if I were a bit stronger. a bit more capable...a bit...sturdier, maybe both would have survived.
I've come to a place of acceptance (and pain) and am doing my best to make peace with the baby that I know felt unloved and unwanted.
I have a feeling it'll take years.
on the other hand...I'm wondering why the baby that's left chose to stay...and doing my best to think positively.
after the Prof's amazing birth (notice I didn't mention anything about the pregnancy being amazing? yeah, I still hate that part)...I was very confident that my body could handle this.
no prob. a little sickness, some hormonal upheavals, fatigue and some stretching...I got this.
now...now, I gotta admit I'm actually a little scared.
something went terribly wrong with one of my babies...
what do I have to do to protect the other?
worse, still...don't I feel tremendously, heart-wrenchingly guilty?
yup. sure do.
we found out last week that I was pregnant with twins, but one died.
died...right about the time I wrote my hateful, selfish "do not want" blog. I KNOW I was overwhelmed; physically, emotionally, mentally...and now I know why.
but I also know that I was so reluctant and hesitant to accept my fate that I forced the little soul right out of one of my babies.
now, I'm not feeling self-indulgent and whiney, here. despite many people's attempts to convince me otherwise...I know what I did. I'm taking responsibility.
I didn't have enough. I couldn't handle being pregnant with two, nursing another, being sick, being scared, etc...and that bothers me. if I were a bit stronger. a bit more capable...a bit...sturdier, maybe both would have survived.
I've come to a place of acceptance (and pain) and am doing my best to make peace with the baby that I know felt unloved and unwanted.
I have a feeling it'll take years.
on the other hand...I'm wondering why the baby that's left chose to stay...and doing my best to think positively.
after the Prof's amazing birth (notice I didn't mention anything about the pregnancy being amazing? yeah, I still hate that part)...I was very confident that my body could handle this.
no prob. a little sickness, some hormonal upheavals, fatigue and some stretching...I got this.
now...now, I gotta admit I'm actually a little scared.
something went terribly wrong with one of my babies...
what do I have to do to protect the other?
Monday, November 2, 2009
better
pregnancy does not directly equate to a feeling of impending death, doom and despair, today.
I'll take it.
*knocking furiously on wood that I don't get all nastified sick, again. cause seriously....I really fucking hate that*
I'll take it.
*knocking furiously on wood that I don't get all nastified sick, again. cause seriously....I really fucking hate that*
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
return to sender
do not want.
I don't want to be pregnant. in fact...(keeping it real here)...I don't want another baby.
do.not.want.
not at all.
call me selfish. call me careless. call me completely fucked...but that's how I feel.
I've already got a baby and he requires a good dose of attention and care...and frankly, that's about all I've got in me.
I want just a smidge of my life back. I'm not talking cocktails, tailgating, and my figure. all completely meaningless, pointless and not of my concern.
my desires are way less superficial and much more basic.
I want sleep. strength. health and exercise.
I want to climb. I want to ride...and I want to be able to nap after doing so.
I haven't slept through the night in 16 months. its driving me absolutely fucking crazy (obvious much?).
I am tired. I'm weak. I'm dizzy and I'm nauseated enough to consider killing myself and this embryo.
don't want.
(un?)fortunately, I'm of the moral fiber that abortion isn't even close to being an option. I'm BY NO MEANS a conservative, christian or even particularly judgemental...
but I can't do it.
wish I could. (REALLY wish I could)
can't do it.
my body can't take much more of this. I don't do pregnant well. I'm sickly, drained, bedraggled and ill.
I look like I'm dying. not exaggerating that. oqui actually apologized to me the other day for killing me...slowly...via pregnancy.
I FEEL LIKE I'M DYING.
the newborn days and nursing were no better for me. I couldn't eat like a real person for a year. always fatigued. always exhausted. trouble breathing.
I'm convinced I've digested portions of my heart, lungs and liver.
I'm not strong enough to do this, again. honestly...my body (and mind) have had enough.
I've been a parent my entire adult life. even before the technical start of "adulthood."
I want a break.
I need a break.
I DON'T need another baby....and there's nothing I can do about it.
I don't want to be pregnant. in fact...(keeping it real here)...I don't want another baby.
do.not.want.
not at all.
call me selfish. call me careless. call me completely fucked...but that's how I feel.
I've already got a baby and he requires a good dose of attention and care...and frankly, that's about all I've got in me.
I want just a smidge of my life back. I'm not talking cocktails, tailgating, and my figure. all completely meaningless, pointless and not of my concern.
my desires are way less superficial and much more basic.
I want sleep. strength. health and exercise.
I want to climb. I want to ride...and I want to be able to nap after doing so.
I haven't slept through the night in 16 months. its driving me absolutely fucking crazy (obvious much?).
I am tired. I'm weak. I'm dizzy and I'm nauseated enough to consider killing myself and this embryo.
don't want.
(un?)fortunately, I'm of the moral fiber that abortion isn't even close to being an option. I'm BY NO MEANS a conservative, christian or even particularly judgemental...
but I can't do it.
wish I could. (REALLY wish I could)
can't do it.
my body can't take much more of this. I don't do pregnant well. I'm sickly, drained, bedraggled and ill.
I look like I'm dying. not exaggerating that. oqui actually apologized to me the other day for killing me...slowly...via pregnancy.
I FEEL LIKE I'M DYING.
the newborn days and nursing were no better for me. I couldn't eat like a real person for a year. always fatigued. always exhausted. trouble breathing.
I'm convinced I've digested portions of my heart, lungs and liver.
I'm not strong enough to do this, again. honestly...my body (and mind) have had enough.
I've been a parent my entire adult life. even before the technical start of "adulthood."
I want a break.
I need a break.
I DON'T need another baby....and there's nothing I can do about it.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
unpossible
we are supposed to settle on the new house in 8 days.
ummm...no.
long story (INCREDIBLY LONG STORY) short:
-dude filed for bankruptcy 3 years ago and didn't disclose it. awesome. now the court must be involved to approve the sale, but first...
-dude has to be declared mentally competent to enter into a contract/undergo bankrupty proceedings/wipe his own ass, etc.
yes. he was declared incompetent 11 (ELEVEN FUCKING) years ago, had the deed to his home (the one we're trying to buy) transferred to his grandfather, had it transferred back when he got married WITHOUT REVERSING THE INCOMPETENCE RULING, and now the title to the home is completely fucked.
we MUST settle on this (or any other) home before November 30 in order to get the 8 grand tax credit.
so not gonna happen.
I'm livid, concerned and more nauseous than ever.
honest to god WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO LIVE???
my ex-husband is coming back for this house in 8 days...
sure hope he likes having roomies.
ummm...no.
long story (INCREDIBLY LONG STORY) short:
-dude filed for bankruptcy 3 years ago and didn't disclose it. awesome. now the court must be involved to approve the sale, but first...
-dude has to be declared mentally competent to enter into a contract/undergo bankrupty proceedings/wipe his own ass, etc.
yes. he was declared incompetent 11 (ELEVEN FUCKING) years ago, had the deed to his home (the one we're trying to buy) transferred to his grandfather, had it transferred back when he got married WITHOUT REVERSING THE INCOMPETENCE RULING, and now the title to the home is completely fucked.
we MUST settle on this (or any other) home before November 30 in order to get the 8 grand tax credit.
so not gonna happen.
I'm livid, concerned and more nauseous than ever.
honest to god WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO LIVE???
my ex-husband is coming back for this house in 8 days...
sure hope he likes having roomies.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
penis poisoning
I'm pregnant.
but too sick to talk about it in any detail.
when I stop wishing for death, I'll elaborate.
until that time...ladies, do what you can to avoid penis poisoning.
but too sick to talk about it in any detail.
when I stop wishing for death, I'll elaborate.
until that time...ladies, do what you can to avoid penis poisoning.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Professor Formula Breath
taking itty bittle minor steps to start weaning the Prof...
including that nasty rotting flesh formula.
he has taken (and by taken I mean he's SMITTEN with) to a cup with a straw, so I've been trying to sneak the occassional ounce or so of horse piss (ie. formula) into his wooby cup...appropriately diluted with juice, pedialyte or motor oil...you know, to improve the taste.
so far...I've gotten about 6 ounces in him. total. in 11 months.
we're obviously gonna have to take this slowly...
in non-formula weaning news; oqui got him to sleep last night without my help. hell...I wasn't even here.
the kid went to sleep without nursing, slept the entire night (who IS he???) and I woke up feeling like my chest was going to explode.
fun. fun. fun.
but...it must be done, at least to some extent.
I need the rest...
including that nasty rotting flesh formula.
he has taken (and by taken I mean he's SMITTEN with) to a cup with a straw, so I've been trying to sneak the occassional ounce or so of horse piss (ie. formula) into his wooby cup...appropriately diluted with juice, pedialyte or motor oil...you know, to improve the taste.
so far...I've gotten about 6 ounces in him. total. in 11 months.
we're obviously gonna have to take this slowly...
in non-formula weaning news; oqui got him to sleep last night without my help. hell...I wasn't even here.
the kid went to sleep without nursing, slept the entire night (who IS he???) and I woke up feeling like my chest was going to explode.
fun. fun. fun.
but...it must be done, at least to some extent.
I need the rest...
Friday, September 25, 2009
stilllll sleepy.
not as sick, but definitely TIRED TIRED TIRED.
probably just as much from my lingering swine/plague/flu/cold as from the fact that the Prof has been...shall we say...not sleeping well?
he's cutting a tooth. (never thought I'd be so proud of a little toofer, but he's about 5 months overdue and I was starting to worry. PARTICULARLY because its a symptom of celiac, but I REALLY digress....)
he stood unassisted this week. well....danced, actually. he's definitely mine. he digs throw back jams and old school hip hop.
he said, clear as a bell, "sissy." The Monkey was THRILLED.
and he finally took to the binky...about 11 months late, but if it keeps his little teething gums happy, I'm game. he's actually more interested in playing a little game of self-fetch with it...but it keeps in happy in his playpen...which HE.ABSOLUTELY.LOVES.
amen. I can pee, again.
oh, yeah...
he humps everything, too. (balls deep)
oqui finally conceeded that a DNA test isn't necessary...
the boy is his.
probably just as much from my lingering swine/plague/flu/cold as from the fact that the Prof has been...shall we say...not sleeping well?
he's cutting a tooth. (never thought I'd be so proud of a little toofer, but he's about 5 months overdue and I was starting to worry. PARTICULARLY because its a symptom of celiac, but I REALLY digress....)
he stood unassisted this week. well....danced, actually. he's definitely mine. he digs throw back jams and old school hip hop.
he said, clear as a bell, "sissy." The Monkey was THRILLED.
and he finally took to the binky...about 11 months late, but if it keeps his little teething gums happy, I'm game. he's actually more interested in playing a little game of self-fetch with it...but it keeps in happy in his playpen...which HE.ABSOLUTELY.LOVES.
amen. I can pee, again.
oh, yeah...
he humps everything, too. (balls deep)
oqui finally conceeded that a DNA test isn't necessary...
the boy is his.
Monday, September 14, 2009
stillllllllllllllllllllllll sick.
cough. gag. choke. sweat.
anyone brave enough to break the quarantine is welcome to come smack me over the head with a golf club.
kthnx.
anyone brave enough to break the quarantine is welcome to come smack me over the head with a golf club.
kthnx.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
I got two words for ya
rumney was a gigantic bust.
oh what a disastrous web we weave if we attempt to....can't think of a rhyming word...recreate.
t'was (yet another) trip from hell.
the baby busted out a 102 and A HALF degree fever thursday JUST prior to our departure time, putting our long awaited trip in grave jeopardy.
sweet.
fever broke the next morning (so we thought) so we put our narrow white asses in the car, met monica and got to driving...
for ten fucking hours.
the kid kept spiking a fever, we kept stopping and sticking stuff up his ass...all the while wondering why we were stupid enough to attempt this. we finally rolled into the farm around 10, 11ish...set up camp (a very long and complicated process in the dark. believe you me). finally ended up in the awesome but extremely dusty 150+ year old farmhouse that makes me sneeze and tried like hell to sleep.
no go. the fever spiked again. the kid and I couldn't breathe. we could HEAR but not participate in the full moon campfire shenanigans and life was generally miserable until sunrise.
wait. it gets better.
we set an alarm to get up early for the farm breakfast. I was promised gluten free, dairy free, (et cetera. you guys know the list) eggs, sausage and potatoes...and was pretty excited about it.
nope. the farm was overrun with french canadian sausage stealing motherfuckers (I HATE french canadian sausage stealing mother fuckers!~!!!!) who ate up all the food before we got there.
I've never been more upset about a $10 plate of over cooked cold eggs and greasy kale in my life.
we lounged around trying to recover our sensibilities and hit the crag in the early afternoon.
BLISS! rumney rock is the best on the east coast (possibly in the whole entire universe) and we thoroughly and whole-heartedly enjoyed ourselves, five minutes at a time while we managed to squeeze in three whole routes amidst the prof's constant and incessant protestation.
he finally fell asleep JUST prior to be tossed off the cliff...then monica's phone rang.
her boyfriend's grandfather took a turn for the worse and we needed to get home.
fuck me.
now, I did not at all intend to write this blog to bash our climbing buddy (which is why I waited several days to even attempt it)...but I'm gonna have to put some facts out there to really convey this entire picture.
he was sick before she left. she was asked not to leave. she chose to leave anyway knowing full well he was on his last leg.
soooo...we reluctantly (after THREE routes) headed to the farm to shower up, pack up, get fed and get on the road, again.
fuck.in.a.
on the way home, I got even more frustrated with her as she didn't help kick in for gas, didn't share in the driving and always got in the front seat.
'scuse me!?!?!
girl, I heart ya...but we're never taking a road trip together again lest I find it difficult to supress the urge to strangle ya.
separate cars, girlfriend.
separate cars.
oh what a disastrous web we weave if we attempt to....can't think of a rhyming word...recreate.
t'was (yet another) trip from hell.
the baby busted out a 102 and A HALF degree fever thursday JUST prior to our departure time, putting our long awaited trip in grave jeopardy.
sweet.
fever broke the next morning (so we thought) so we put our narrow white asses in the car, met monica and got to driving...
for ten fucking hours.
the kid kept spiking a fever, we kept stopping and sticking stuff up his ass...all the while wondering why we were stupid enough to attempt this. we finally rolled into the farm around 10, 11ish...set up camp (a very long and complicated process in the dark. believe you me). finally ended up in the awesome but extremely dusty 150+ year old farmhouse that makes me sneeze and tried like hell to sleep.
no go. the fever spiked again. the kid and I couldn't breathe. we could HEAR but not participate in the full moon campfire shenanigans and life was generally miserable until sunrise.
wait. it gets better.
we set an alarm to get up early for the farm breakfast. I was promised gluten free, dairy free, (et cetera. you guys know the list) eggs, sausage and potatoes...and was pretty excited about it.
nope. the farm was overrun with french canadian sausage stealing motherfuckers (I HATE french canadian sausage stealing mother fuckers!~!!!!) who ate up all the food before we got there.
I've never been more upset about a $10 plate of over cooked cold eggs and greasy kale in my life.
we lounged around trying to recover our sensibilities and hit the crag in the early afternoon.
BLISS! rumney rock is the best on the east coast (possibly in the whole entire universe) and we thoroughly and whole-heartedly enjoyed ourselves, five minutes at a time while we managed to squeeze in three whole routes amidst the prof's constant and incessant protestation.
he finally fell asleep JUST prior to be tossed off the cliff...then monica's phone rang.
her boyfriend's grandfather took a turn for the worse and we needed to get home.
fuck me.
now, I did not at all intend to write this blog to bash our climbing buddy (which is why I waited several days to even attempt it)...but I'm gonna have to put some facts out there to really convey this entire picture.
he was sick before she left. she was asked not to leave. she chose to leave anyway knowing full well he was on his last leg.
soooo...we reluctantly (after THREE routes) headed to the farm to shower up, pack up, get fed and get on the road, again.
fuck.in.a.
on the way home, I got even more frustrated with her as she didn't help kick in for gas, didn't share in the driving and always got in the front seat.
'scuse me!?!?!
girl, I heart ya...but we're never taking a road trip together again lest I find it difficult to supress the urge to strangle ya.
separate cars, girlfriend.
separate cars.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
loser!
wow.
checking out some of the girls in my old sorority on facebook.
they all seem to be doing really well. even the ones who stay home with kids are always standing in front of expensive kitchen cabinets or driving luxury cars.
I totally fucked something up.
who's a loser???
--------> THIS GIRL <----------
checking out some of the girls in my old sorority on facebook.
they all seem to be doing really well. even the ones who stay home with kids are always standing in front of expensive kitchen cabinets or driving luxury cars.
I totally fucked something up.
who's a loser???
--------> THIS GIRL <----------
gotta admit
I'm a little apprehensive about the trip with the baby.
he was awesome at the gunks...miserable at the new (so miserable, in fact, that we rarely even reference the details of those 3 days of hell in our lives).
he's still hit or miss with the sleeping thing, so its anybody's guess how he'll handle 5 nights away from home...3 in a tent 2 in the car.
it's cool that we'll have a 3rd driver, though. this is vital to our survival.
we almost die on the way home from every climbing trip b/c the kid kept us up and we're exhaustified.
I am going to protect monica's sleep like a wet baby bird...so as she can stay awake and get us home alive.
aside from the whole sleep thing, I'm pretty cool with the possible eating arrangements. the farm is fully capable of providing organic, gluten free, dairy free, soy free, nut free, flavor free (I hope not) meals. we can also pack our own food cook on the camp stove, or even use the kitchen in the hostel.
haven't decided yet. to cheap out and get the full experience trying to boil water on an ultralite??? or to suck it up, pay $10 a meal and eat eggs, sausage and potatoes (that someone else cooked) for 4 days???
either way...unlike most climbing trips, I get the distinct impression I'm gonna come home from this one FATTER.
another fact worthy of note:
monica climbs like a beast. she's solid on 11's and V5's and hits the occassional 12 and V6.
doood...I'm lucky to pull down a hard 10...
on top rope.
it'll be interesting to see whether watching her shred the shit outta the shist (I have NO idea how to spell that) is gonna push me to pull harder...or convince me to sit and watch.
I'm guessing (as with all things) it'll boil down to how much sleep I'm getting...and how annoying the baby is.
yeah...9's it is.
he was awesome at the gunks...miserable at the new (so miserable, in fact, that we rarely even reference the details of those 3 days of hell in our lives).
he's still hit or miss with the sleeping thing, so its anybody's guess how he'll handle 5 nights away from home...3 in a tent 2 in the car.
it's cool that we'll have a 3rd driver, though. this is vital to our survival.
we almost die on the way home from every climbing trip b/c the kid kept us up and we're exhaustified.
I am going to protect monica's sleep like a wet baby bird...so as she can stay awake and get us home alive.
aside from the whole sleep thing, I'm pretty cool with the possible eating arrangements. the farm is fully capable of providing organic, gluten free, dairy free, soy free, nut free, flavor free (I hope not) meals. we can also pack our own food cook on the camp stove, or even use the kitchen in the hostel.
haven't decided yet. to cheap out and get the full experience trying to boil water on an ultralite??? or to suck it up, pay $10 a meal and eat eggs, sausage and potatoes (that someone else cooked) for 4 days???
either way...unlike most climbing trips, I get the distinct impression I'm gonna come home from this one FATTER.
another fact worthy of note:
monica climbs like a beast. she's solid on 11's and V5's and hits the occassional 12 and V6.
doood...I'm lucky to pull down a hard 10...
on top rope.
it'll be interesting to see whether watching her shred the shit outta the shist (I have NO idea how to spell that) is gonna push me to pull harder...or convince me to sit and watch.
I'm guessing (as with all things) it'll boil down to how much sleep I'm getting...and how annoying the baby is.
yeah...9's it is.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
on my way to new jerseyshire...
we are taking both children adventuring.
9 or so hour drive to New Hampshire to camp on the farm.
it's gonna be cold.
The Prof is still sometimes a butthead...
but Rumney has a collection of over 100 sport routes we can reasonably climb (we lead like sissy baby chickens), the stars in new england are...well...stellar, and campfires rock my socks.
I must to go buy a coat for the kid.
9 or so hour drive to New Hampshire to camp on the farm.
it's gonna be cold.
The Prof is still sometimes a butthead...
but Rumney has a collection of over 100 sport routes we can reasonably climb (we lead like sissy baby chickens), the stars in new england are...well...stellar, and campfires rock my socks.
I must to go buy a coat for the kid.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
high road (aka faking it)
perhaps its because its no longer melt your skin hot outside?
maybe its because I had some tremendous cathartic insight? (I didn't, but I'm not opposed to pretending)
could it be because I'm finally relaxed and seeking inner quiet (I'm not gonna so far as to say peace...cause, let's face it...I'm a mean violent sumnabitch)?
either way. whatever reason...I'm taking the high road.
(except with my neighbors. I still hate those cunts.)
I will stay calm in the face of conflict. I will remain patient and focused.
I.will.not.be.drug.into.the.petty.annoying.retarded.assinine.pointless.self-serving.fucking.dramas.
ie. I'm gonna fake it.
I want to be hap-hap-happy-go-motherfucking-lucky and if those in my presence and sphere aint jumping aboard the obliviously happy reetee ship...
then I shall set sail without them.
how many tards does it take to sail a fake ship?
I am DONE (capitol D, capitol O, capitol N, capitol E) done with energy sapping, joy destroying, immature dra.ma.
save the drama for....
actually, I don't really give a fuck who you save it for, just get the fuck outta my face with it.
I will be goddamn fucking happy no matter what.
put that in your pipe and smoke on it, grumpy-ass bitches.
maybe its because I had some tremendous cathartic insight? (I didn't, but I'm not opposed to pretending)
could it be because I'm finally relaxed and seeking inner quiet (I'm not gonna so far as to say peace...cause, let's face it...I'm a mean violent sumnabitch)?
either way. whatever reason...I'm taking the high road.
(except with my neighbors. I still hate those cunts.)
I will stay calm in the face of conflict. I will remain patient and focused.
I.will.not.be.drug.into.the.petty.annoying.retarded.assinine.pointless.self-serving.fucking.dramas.
ie. I'm gonna fake it.
I want to be hap-hap-happy-go-motherfucking-lucky and if those in my presence and sphere aint jumping aboard the obliviously happy reetee ship...
then I shall set sail without them.
how many tards does it take to sail a fake ship?
I am DONE (capitol D, capitol O, capitol N, capitol E) done with energy sapping, joy destroying, immature dra.ma.
save the drama for....
actually, I don't really give a fuck who you save it for, just get the fuck outta my face with it.
I will be goddamn fucking happy no matter what.
put that in your pipe and smoke on it, grumpy-ass bitches.
Monday, August 31, 2009
cooling off
I'd like to give a shout out to 70 degree weather, hoodies, long pants and chilly nights.
thank ya, jesus!!! fall doth come(th).
speaking of jesus...oqui and I have been batting around the idea of adding a little faith to our lives. we've recently come to the long overdue conclusion that we're cranky, kermudgeon, rat-fink bastards and prolly need to change our outlook(s) a bit.
enter the jesus peeps. these motherfuckers are always so goddamn (no offense to my jesus peeps) fucking happy.
happy. happy. disgustingly, sickeningly happy.
I want in.
problem is...neither one of us even remotely believes in jesus. in fact, oqui is openly antagonistic about the concept and I'm afeared that should he set foot in a place of worship, he'd instantly combust.
I, myself, am mostly agnostic with a heavy side of atheism. I TRIED to believe. trust in suki...there was a time in my life in which I actively sought faith. I went to mosques, chapels, mass, temples...
I even went so far as to join a rite of christian initiation for adult's class (not just for the tuition discount at catholic school, either) during which I told a little ol' nun that I prayed for faith. BEGGED for belief. asked for the faith of Job (you know, the guy who kept get his ass handed to him by god but refused to denouce him)....
and nothing. I asked the lil' ol' nun...how can that be? doth not god hear and answer our prayers.
she resorted to honesty with me. she started with, "I don't know" and followed up with the advice that if I really wanted to believe...I had to stop trying to do so intellectually and just take the leap.
she was sweet. she also told me that she didn't believe every word in the catechism (ie. that unbaptised babies go to hell) and that you have to pick and choose your religious battles...
which led me to the muslims.
islam is a great way to become a die-hard, complete and total hypocrite. the scriptual expectations are set so incredibly high that noone (NOONE) can live up to them...and thusly get very good at rationalizing their transgressions.
the catholics, are also good at this from what I hear.
so, oqui and I are half seriously considering heading to church for at least the social benefits...all the while keeping eyes peeled for a non-religious alternative. (from what I remember of my preacher's kid days...church goers aren't always the happy mofos they appear to be. has something changed since I last dared to do the wafer?)
I suppose if we go to church, get strung up for being blasphemous interlopers and have nowhere else to turn...
we can always try yoga, or find a good drug dealer.
thank ya, jesus!!! fall doth come(th).
speaking of jesus...oqui and I have been batting around the idea of adding a little faith to our lives. we've recently come to the long overdue conclusion that we're cranky, kermudgeon, rat-fink bastards and prolly need to change our outlook(s) a bit.
enter the jesus peeps. these motherfuckers are always so goddamn (no offense to my jesus peeps) fucking happy.
happy. happy. disgustingly, sickeningly happy.
I want in.
problem is...neither one of us even remotely believes in jesus. in fact, oqui is openly antagonistic about the concept and I'm afeared that should he set foot in a place of worship, he'd instantly combust.
I, myself, am mostly agnostic with a heavy side of atheism. I TRIED to believe. trust in suki...there was a time in my life in which I actively sought faith. I went to mosques, chapels, mass, temples...
I even went so far as to join a rite of christian initiation for adult's class (not just for the tuition discount at catholic school, either) during which I told a little ol' nun that I prayed for faith. BEGGED for belief. asked for the faith of Job (you know, the guy who kept get his ass handed to him by god but refused to denouce him)....
and nothing. I asked the lil' ol' nun...how can that be? doth not god hear and answer our prayers.
she resorted to honesty with me. she started with, "I don't know" and followed up with the advice that if I really wanted to believe...I had to stop trying to do so intellectually and just take the leap.
she was sweet. she also told me that she didn't believe every word in the catechism (ie. that unbaptised babies go to hell) and that you have to pick and choose your religious battles...
which led me to the muslims.
islam is a great way to become a die-hard, complete and total hypocrite. the scriptual expectations are set so incredibly high that noone (NOONE) can live up to them...and thusly get very good at rationalizing their transgressions.
the catholics, are also good at this from what I hear.
so, oqui and I are half seriously considering heading to church for at least the social benefits...all the while keeping eyes peeled for a non-religious alternative. (from what I remember of my preacher's kid days...church goers aren't always the happy mofos they appear to be. has something changed since I last dared to do the wafer?)
I suppose if we go to church, get strung up for being blasphemous interlopers and have nowhere else to turn...
we can always try yoga, or find a good drug dealer.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
no talky talky
facebook v. the blog.
facebook is winning...but only marginally. I have little energy for either.
there are tons of things I'd like to get down for the sake of posterity (not posterior. while my ass isn't particularly large just now...I am working on it with the remains of that damn cake)...but would feel a lil cheesy just bullet pointing this bitch.
wait. what was I gonna bullet point, anyway?
see. no talky. no typey.
I should just go do some push ups and a carmen elektra strip tease workout.
riiiiiiiiiiiight.
workout.
things of import late (I thing I did some remembering while trying to stave off the mental picture of me in a carmen elektra outfit jiggling my shiznizzle):
-still house hunting. still shooting blanks. I hate ugly houses. most houses are incredibly fucking ugly (particularly in our "comfortable" price range). somebody build a bitch a tent.
-had a "family meeting" at our home rock climbing gym yesterday. the arcade/restaurant/nightclub (with shitty dj)/bar next door has been squeezing them out. finally refused to renew the lease. I cried thinking that place may no longer be. it changed my life...twice.
first, it got me healthy, again. physically active. mentally focused (again...ha!). secondly...its where I met oqui. without that place I wouldn't have the 'pah, wouldn't have the Prof and...well, as tired and trying as it is...I can't imagine my life without either of them.
the gym, however, is merely relocating. buying up the other gym in town. yes...a town this small did have TWO rock gyms. the owner led us all on, made me bawl like a baby.
he said: as of september we're closing our doors. this place will no longer exist.
he paused. I cried.
he then said: as for the other gym in town...I know you guys are gonna probably go there. I know you need a place to climb. I don't want you to think I'd be upset if you go there...in fact, we're hoping you do...
he paused.
then said: cause we're the new owners.
mother fucker!
I went over and hugged him...and whispered in his ear...asshole.
either way, it was pretty emotional for me. ever since we got the call saturday about the meeting I was dreading the news that they would close. its a special place for me...
and now, I guess I'll have to man up and climb that fucking flake route at the other gym.
damn it.
-the Prof is sleeping through the night again (knocking furiously on wood)...so why am I more tired today than I can ever remember being before? must to continue to investigate this whole "sleep" thing. will report new findings.
-had a mini class reunion. almost everyone is fat...and looks WAAAAY older than I do. I was astounded by the titties these ladies were packing and couldn't help but laugh at the little bittles I had poking outta my dress.
ahhh...to be rock climbing thin....and entirely boobless.
I wore my brand spanking new cowboy boots (I was BY FAR the whitest motherfucker in there)...and tore up the dance floor.
damn. I still got it. I can dance for a white girl.
oqui had a problem with my particular style, turned up the drama notch, pitched himself a fit, and subsequently got himself the cold shoulder and stink eye all night.
he must grow up in regards to these things. there will only be so many "can I get a ride home with you? oqui's being a cock" episodes before I just go solo...all the time. he has been informed of such and I'm hoping he acts accordingly.
he better act accordingly.
-the monkey starts school again, soon. in years of yore this was a vodka drinking, tear inducing time of year for me. I missed her when she went back.
now...she's kind of a pain in the ass and I'm not as sad to see her go...but I will miss her. she's got jokes and a wicked dirty sense of humor.
as long as she doesn't drop an f' bomb....she and I can have fun.
hope she focues, does well this year and doesn't frustrate us beyond all comprehension.
...I'd really hate to have to homeschool her annoying ass.
-did I mention I hate ugly houses? yeah. we're having a hella time. wish I could drink more vodka.
which leads me to...
-I can't drink vodka. nursing, dancing, climbing and not sleeping are all adding up to be just a bit more than my body can handle when you throw in two vodka tonics. I was hurting saturday after the reunion EVEN THOUGH I stuck to my two (one and a half really) drinks and drank four glasses of water while still there.
saturday was no good for me.
I guess I'll just have to take up crack or meth.
mmmm....meth whore with a carmen elektra booty and brand spanking new cowboy boots.
yup. that'll work.
facebook is winning...but only marginally. I have little energy for either.
there are tons of things I'd like to get down for the sake of posterity (not posterior. while my ass isn't particularly large just now...I am working on it with the remains of that damn cake)...but would feel a lil cheesy just bullet pointing this bitch.
wait. what was I gonna bullet point, anyway?
see. no talky. no typey.
I should just go do some push ups and a carmen elektra strip tease workout.
riiiiiiiiiiiight.
workout.
things of import late (I thing I did some remembering while trying to stave off the mental picture of me in a carmen elektra outfit jiggling my shiznizzle):
-still house hunting. still shooting blanks. I hate ugly houses. most houses are incredibly fucking ugly (particularly in our "comfortable" price range). somebody build a bitch a tent.
-had a "family meeting" at our home rock climbing gym yesterday. the arcade/restaurant/nightclub (with shitty dj)/bar next door has been squeezing them out. finally refused to renew the lease. I cried thinking that place may no longer be. it changed my life...twice.
first, it got me healthy, again. physically active. mentally focused (again...ha!). secondly...its where I met oqui. without that place I wouldn't have the 'pah, wouldn't have the Prof and...well, as tired and trying as it is...I can't imagine my life without either of them.
the gym, however, is merely relocating. buying up the other gym in town. yes...a town this small did have TWO rock gyms. the owner led us all on, made me bawl like a baby.
he said: as of september we're closing our doors. this place will no longer exist.
he paused. I cried.
he then said: as for the other gym in town...I know you guys are gonna probably go there. I know you need a place to climb. I don't want you to think I'd be upset if you go there...in fact, we're hoping you do...
he paused.
then said: cause we're the new owners.
mother fucker!
I went over and hugged him...and whispered in his ear...asshole.
either way, it was pretty emotional for me. ever since we got the call saturday about the meeting I was dreading the news that they would close. its a special place for me...
and now, I guess I'll have to man up and climb that fucking flake route at the other gym.
damn it.
-the Prof is sleeping through the night again (knocking furiously on wood)...so why am I more tired today than I can ever remember being before? must to continue to investigate this whole "sleep" thing. will report new findings.
-had a mini class reunion. almost everyone is fat...and looks WAAAAY older than I do. I was astounded by the titties these ladies were packing and couldn't help but laugh at the little bittles I had poking outta my dress.
ahhh...to be rock climbing thin....and entirely boobless.
I wore my brand spanking new cowboy boots (I was BY FAR the whitest motherfucker in there)...and tore up the dance floor.
damn. I still got it. I can dance for a white girl.
oqui had a problem with my particular style, turned up the drama notch, pitched himself a fit, and subsequently got himself the cold shoulder and stink eye all night.
he must grow up in regards to these things. there will only be so many "can I get a ride home with you? oqui's being a cock" episodes before I just go solo...all the time. he has been informed of such and I'm hoping he acts accordingly.
he better act accordingly.
-the monkey starts school again, soon. in years of yore this was a vodka drinking, tear inducing time of year for me. I missed her when she went back.
now...she's kind of a pain in the ass and I'm not as sad to see her go...but I will miss her. she's got jokes and a wicked dirty sense of humor.
as long as she doesn't drop an f' bomb....she and I can have fun.
hope she focues, does well this year and doesn't frustrate us beyond all comprehension.
...I'd really hate to have to homeschool her annoying ass.
-did I mention I hate ugly houses? yeah. we're having a hella time. wish I could drink more vodka.
which leads me to...
-I can't drink vodka. nursing, dancing, climbing and not sleeping are all adding up to be just a bit more than my body can handle when you throw in two vodka tonics. I was hurting saturday after the reunion EVEN THOUGH I stuck to my two (one and a half really) drinks and drank four glasses of water while still there.
saturday was no good for me.
I guess I'll just have to take up crack or meth.
mmmm....meth whore with a carmen elektra booty and brand spanking new cowboy boots.
yup. that'll work.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
uuuuugh.
I don't feel so good.
harness caused wicked tummy pain.
bloated. headache. neck sore.
momma needs a nap.
...wish me luck.
harness caused wicked tummy pain.
bloated. headache. neck sore.
momma needs a nap.
...wish me luck.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
gluten free dairy free soy free nut free circle o' joy
I'm in (dare I say it?) a good mood.
the Prof slept well last night...and the night before. only waking once per night. amazing what only slightly broken sleep does for the mind.
good stuff. can't wait to sleep through the night again.
oqui surprised me with a yummy allergen carrot cake at the gym last night. he orchestrated a little get together con cakes (mine...and then a regular (and not $3000) one for everyone else). there were plates with animal faces. "awesome! I think mine's an ass!" and a handful of climbing friends to say happy birthday.
he managed to plan the not so short trip to the super secret special allergen free dessert caterer with the "dropping off documents for a project" cover story. I'm fairly easy to fool these days, so he got away with that with nothing more than a "can you do it at lunch time? hey. that's near trader joe's...maybe I should come, too" and an "OK. drive carefully." nothing like the days of baby shower planning when he couldn't so much as poo without me hovering outside the door listening for secret communicae. ahhhh...those were the days.
peggy got me a gift card for the health food store. that was really thoughtful. she's a good friend. that along with my birthday check from my mom (when did THIS tradition start???? I'm game), a card and gift from my grandparents and neighbor, oqui's always tear inducing cards (I always get one from him and one from the booger), my brand spanking new cowboy boots and a nice dinner with...VODKA!!!
I'm a happy girl.
a happy girl with brand spanking new cowboy boots and a rather large totally safe listed carrot cake in the fridge.
can you say sugar rush?
I'm also happy that we're getting out of this house. not.a.single.second.of.regret.or.remorse.
nope.
ready to go.
we've seen every single house in this district in our price range, and only really want one. of course, we're fighting with the listing agent on that one, cause he's an over-pricing d-bag who's holding out for a doctor or nurse to buy the property on what he wants to maintain as a very exclusive street.
I'm not convinced that oqui's hispanic last name doesn't have something to do with his unwillingness to deal.
so we're gonna beat his homo butt senseless, go down for a hate crime and find our beautiful new digs in separate federal pens.
other than the whole potential for incarceration...and not getting the house we want...
I'm glad we're moving forward with a home and a life of our own.
refreshing.
it also doesn't hurt that I'm hoping to squeeze in an extremely low budget kitchen remodel wherever we land and have been religiously poring over my decorating magazines...
feeling creative.
yup. refreshing.
the Prof slept well last night...and the night before. only waking once per night. amazing what only slightly broken sleep does for the mind.
good stuff. can't wait to sleep through the night again.
oqui surprised me with a yummy allergen carrot cake at the gym last night. he orchestrated a little get together con cakes (mine...and then a regular (and not $3000) one for everyone else). there were plates with animal faces. "awesome! I think mine's an ass!" and a handful of climbing friends to say happy birthday.
he managed to plan the not so short trip to the super secret special allergen free dessert caterer with the "dropping off documents for a project" cover story. I'm fairly easy to fool these days, so he got away with that with nothing more than a "can you do it at lunch time? hey. that's near trader joe's...maybe I should come, too" and an "OK. drive carefully." nothing like the days of baby shower planning when he couldn't so much as poo without me hovering outside the door listening for secret communicae. ahhhh...those were the days.
peggy got me a gift card for the health food store. that was really thoughtful. she's a good friend. that along with my birthday check from my mom (when did THIS tradition start???? I'm game), a card and gift from my grandparents and neighbor, oqui's always tear inducing cards (I always get one from him and one from the booger), my brand spanking new cowboy boots and a nice dinner with...VODKA!!!
I'm a happy girl.
a happy girl with brand spanking new cowboy boots and a rather large totally safe listed carrot cake in the fridge.
can you say sugar rush?
I'm also happy that we're getting out of this house. not.a.single.second.of.regret.or.remorse.
nope.
ready to go.
we've seen every single house in this district in our price range, and only really want one. of course, we're fighting with the listing agent on that one, cause he's an over-pricing d-bag who's holding out for a doctor or nurse to buy the property on what he wants to maintain as a very exclusive street.
I'm not convinced that oqui's hispanic last name doesn't have something to do with his unwillingness to deal.
so we're gonna beat his homo butt senseless, go down for a hate crime and find our beautiful new digs in separate federal pens.
other than the whole potential for incarceration...and not getting the house we want...
I'm glad we're moving forward with a home and a life of our own.
refreshing.
it also doesn't hurt that I'm hoping to squeeze in an extremely low budget kitchen remodel wherever we land and have been religiously poring over my decorating magazines...
feeling creative.
yup. refreshing.
Monday, August 17, 2009
trial (by poo) and error
this child...this beautiful, precious, adorable little child...can be infuriating.
last night (or should I say the butt crack of dawn?) he decided he didn't want to sleep any more. not at all. happy as a clam as long as he was attended and...
awake.
hell, no, buddy. mommy's running on about 3.75 hours of sleep and since I don't exactly WANT to go psycho...you best go back to bed.
nothing doing.
I tried. oqui tried. I tried. oqui tried. the prof ripped his diaper off in the crib...oqui went back for his turn at trying to put the baby's lights out (ooooh! if only it were as easy as a switch!!!)...
didn't realize the prof was bare bummed, and got a shot of whizz in the grill.
I heard only, "WHAT THE FUCK!" over the monitor. it was late (or early). we were both tired, but it struck me as wrong that yelling, cursing and banging be involved in the back to bed ritual.
I told oqui as much...in my very tired, not so nice, middle of the night (or extremely early morning) way.
then a few hours later I ate a whole shitload of crow when I proceeded to (despite my efforts to control myself) punch the shit out of the attic door...
twice.
infuriating.
so, I vented my ire, went into his room for the 24o038479182730245th time hoping that I was devoid and rid of excess frustration and found myself unable to approach him with patience. there is a limit...and I suppose after nine months, I reached mine this morning (oqui, on the other hand, reaches his daily...a trait I would like to also have an off switch).
I finally gave up/gave in and brought him to bed with me. I'm not particularly adverse to him spending some nap time in our room, but this morning I was sooooooooo tired and sooooooo frustrated...it took a good long while and a few zillion deep breaths to find the place of tolerance necessary to put up with him climbing all over my face and head butting me.
I did a whole lot of thinking whilst he thrashed about fighting sleep.
firstly...why the fuck was he fighting sleep? yeah, it makes me mad. yeah, its annoying...but more importantly, what's the cause? and how do I fix it? this kid has been sleeping like a champ (I, quite obviously, have not)...and all of a sudden sleep is the enemy even when exhausted.
this strikes me as being a problem much bigger than my own puny frustrations. unfortunately, since the Prof has not yet acquired a working knowledge of the english language...this one's gonna remain a mystery to me.
awesome. fixing a problem with an unknown cause...like making gluten free cupcakes. yeah, you can TRY it...but it never turns out right, and leaves a yicky taste in your mouth.
then, I did some thinking about selflessness and sacrifice. it seems to be my running theme. I've been a mother my entire adult life...and have always ALWAYS always...put my needs second to one (or both of) my children.
its not difficult. it doesn't require thought. its innate and just happens.
oqui has more difficulty with it. firstly, he was an only child. an only child with an emotionally manipulative, immature and overly sweet, guilt bearing mother.
oqui...was the center of that woman's universe for way too many years. she was a single mom who worked two jobs to put him into a private school that...once again, created the illusion that he was, indeed, the center of the universe.
he didn't have to share toys...a room...a car...his mother. it was all him, all the time...and I often boil with rage towards his mother for leaving me with her legacy.
now, don't get the impression that I'm taking the blame for his actions from him. I'm not. nor am I really condemning him, here. I'm just stating my understanding of the situation.
I have more practice with the selfless thing.
oqui's an awesome dad. he's loving, involved, playful, concerned, helpful...all the things a mother needs from her partner to get through the rough days with a completely dependent lil' leech around...
but he also has another side. the child side. the side that never left the egocentric stage. the part that sometimes has trouble putting other people first...particularly when tired, in need of and wanting attention itself. the part that speaks louder than reason...and is much quicker on the draw. the part...that lacks self control.
its a hard thing to learn if you don't have to do it...and even harder to learn on the fly when you suddenly do.
and boy do we.
it occurred to me that in raising this child I try to dig deep into myself for the best little bits. the bits I want him to incorporate into his personality...take with him down the road. the parts I'd be proud to see him emulate.
its alot of introspection. self-analysis. sacrifice and giving.
and it takes a damn high toll.
but what else are we to do when he whines while he eats? refuses to sleep. insists on pulling hair, breaking glasses, touching outlets???
respond with frustration, impatience and anger?
as much as that may be what I feel...instead I smile and sing. laugh and cajole...
sometimes, seething on the inside that this little other continues to punk me.
but I chose to bring HIM here. I invited a soul that needed love and affection into my life. I asked for one who needed what I felt we have to offer...
never knowing how much he would trully push us.
willful. stubborn. fits.
my cousin is visiting with her baby, three months older than the prof. her baby listens. he defies in a way that you expect from an infant...
then draws the line.
he's never pitched a fit, while mine tosses his head, arches his back and bangs his head on the floor at the slightest provocation.
my baby waited until the last possible developmentally appropriate second to smile socially.
a booger from day one.
a rebel and a brute.
but what potential I see in him...amazing possibilities.
do the sheep and lambs rule the world?
my little lion, if handled properly now (and btw...any suggestions on how to properly handle him now would be greatly appreciated!)...could do such amazing things.
I've always known willful children are difficult to raise, but fun to watch grow...
but...
damn. we're tired. we're running low on reserves...and being tested in ways that no mountain bike or rock climb could ever do.
we're being forced to grow up, ourselves...
in order to raise him.
last night (or should I say the butt crack of dawn?) he decided he didn't want to sleep any more. not at all. happy as a clam as long as he was attended and...
awake.
hell, no, buddy. mommy's running on about 3.75 hours of sleep and since I don't exactly WANT to go psycho...you best go back to bed.
nothing doing.
I tried. oqui tried. I tried. oqui tried. the prof ripped his diaper off in the crib...oqui went back for his turn at trying to put the baby's lights out (ooooh! if only it were as easy as a switch!!!)...
didn't realize the prof was bare bummed, and got a shot of whizz in the grill.
I heard only, "WHAT THE FUCK!" over the monitor. it was late (or early). we were both tired, but it struck me as wrong that yelling, cursing and banging be involved in the back to bed ritual.
I told oqui as much...in my very tired, not so nice, middle of the night (or extremely early morning) way.
then a few hours later I ate a whole shitload of crow when I proceeded to (despite my efforts to control myself) punch the shit out of the attic door...
twice.
infuriating.
so, I vented my ire, went into his room for the 24o038479182730245th time hoping that I was devoid and rid of excess frustration and found myself unable to approach him with patience. there is a limit...and I suppose after nine months, I reached mine this morning (oqui, on the other hand, reaches his daily...a trait I would like to also have an off switch).
I finally gave up/gave in and brought him to bed with me. I'm not particularly adverse to him spending some nap time in our room, but this morning I was sooooooooo tired and sooooooo frustrated...it took a good long while and a few zillion deep breaths to find the place of tolerance necessary to put up with him climbing all over my face and head butting me.
I did a whole lot of thinking whilst he thrashed about fighting sleep.
firstly...why the fuck was he fighting sleep? yeah, it makes me mad. yeah, its annoying...but more importantly, what's the cause? and how do I fix it? this kid has been sleeping like a champ (I, quite obviously, have not)...and all of a sudden sleep is the enemy even when exhausted.
this strikes me as being a problem much bigger than my own puny frustrations. unfortunately, since the Prof has not yet acquired a working knowledge of the english language...this one's gonna remain a mystery to me.
awesome. fixing a problem with an unknown cause...like making gluten free cupcakes. yeah, you can TRY it...but it never turns out right, and leaves a yicky taste in your mouth.
then, I did some thinking about selflessness and sacrifice. it seems to be my running theme. I've been a mother my entire adult life...and have always ALWAYS always...put my needs second to one (or both of) my children.
its not difficult. it doesn't require thought. its innate and just happens.
oqui has more difficulty with it. firstly, he was an only child. an only child with an emotionally manipulative, immature and overly sweet, guilt bearing mother.
oqui...was the center of that woman's universe for way too many years. she was a single mom who worked two jobs to put him into a private school that...once again, created the illusion that he was, indeed, the center of the universe.
he didn't have to share toys...a room...a car...his mother. it was all him, all the time...and I often boil with rage towards his mother for leaving me with her legacy.
now, don't get the impression that I'm taking the blame for his actions from him. I'm not. nor am I really condemning him, here. I'm just stating my understanding of the situation.
I have more practice with the selfless thing.
oqui's an awesome dad. he's loving, involved, playful, concerned, helpful...all the things a mother needs from her partner to get through the rough days with a completely dependent lil' leech around...
but he also has another side. the child side. the side that never left the egocentric stage. the part that sometimes has trouble putting other people first...particularly when tired, in need of and wanting attention itself. the part that speaks louder than reason...and is much quicker on the draw. the part...that lacks self control.
its a hard thing to learn if you don't have to do it...and even harder to learn on the fly when you suddenly do.
and boy do we.
it occurred to me that in raising this child I try to dig deep into myself for the best little bits. the bits I want him to incorporate into his personality...take with him down the road. the parts I'd be proud to see him emulate.
its alot of introspection. self-analysis. sacrifice and giving.
and it takes a damn high toll.
but what else are we to do when he whines while he eats? refuses to sleep. insists on pulling hair, breaking glasses, touching outlets???
respond with frustration, impatience and anger?
as much as that may be what I feel...instead I smile and sing. laugh and cajole...
sometimes, seething on the inside that this little other continues to punk me.
but I chose to bring HIM here. I invited a soul that needed love and affection into my life. I asked for one who needed what I felt we have to offer...
never knowing how much he would trully push us.
willful. stubborn. fits.
my cousin is visiting with her baby, three months older than the prof. her baby listens. he defies in a way that you expect from an infant...
then draws the line.
he's never pitched a fit, while mine tosses his head, arches his back and bangs his head on the floor at the slightest provocation.
my baby waited until the last possible developmentally appropriate second to smile socially.
a booger from day one.
a rebel and a brute.
but what potential I see in him...amazing possibilities.
do the sheep and lambs rule the world?
my little lion, if handled properly now (and btw...any suggestions on how to properly handle him now would be greatly appreciated!)...could do such amazing things.
I've always known willful children are difficult to raise, but fun to watch grow...
but...
damn. we're tired. we're running low on reserves...and being tested in ways that no mountain bike or rock climb could ever do.
we're being forced to grow up, ourselves...
in order to raise him.
Friday, August 14, 2009
The Professor v. The Tooth
the tooth is winning. the baby (and therefore the mommy, as well) is getting his lilly white ass handed to him by a pearly white.
I've never seen an angrier baby.
sometimes its funny (seriously...ever see a 9 month old make a fist and curse the heavens?)...mostly its frustrating and heartbreaking.
doing our best to keep him moving and distracted...
but OH LAWDY, LAWDY...momma needs some sleep.
in other news. I'm old(er) today.
half a dozen people have told me how skinny I am in the last week (yes. I'm NOT FAT, but I wouldn't go so far as to throw the word "skinny" out there), but noone has seemed to mention my horrendous haircut, pale pallid skin, giant under eye circles and greenish undertones. oh yeah...and I think I'm getting shingles (ok, maybe its herpes, but either way...I think I need an orange and a glass of whole milk).
apparently you "look good" if you aren't overweight. looking old (which I finally do)...doesn't count when you weigh a bucktwenty. nice
I want a brownie sundae. its muh birfday. I should be able to have one.
NOT.
my bestest friend since fourth grade may very well be one of the bravest people on the planet. she's an MIT educated environmental engineer, high powered black american business consultant with a six figure income...
and she quit it all to open a decor store.
the grand opening of SukIo is tomorrow. she's dedicating it to my birthday.
I <3 her and must to go to DC to support her creative endeavors.
maybe when I get some sleep (one of these months)...I make some snazzy stuff for her to sell.
mosaic picture frames?
hand braided wall hangings?
sugar cookies?
ok. that's a little ambitious for the sukester...I'll put it on my list to e-mail her weekly encouragements and baby pics.
my neighbor (this is a wee bit disjointed, can you tell the baby's crying?) gave me a sparkly panda bear birthday card and a gift card. she's the sweetest. I'm almost sad to be moving away from her...granted it won't be far, but we typically give each other a call "gonna be outside to walk in 10 minutes. you in?"
we'll still hang...it'll just take more planning and motivation.
on second thought, she's got a 10 week old and I'm arm wrestling the prof...
I'll prolly see her again in 12 years.
my other neighbors are d-bags. I've "made up" with all of them, cleared the air and psuedo patched it up...but that's as far as I go.
the renters were going to cut down the owner's plants. we felt bad for the lil old lady who planted them at least a decade ago and offered to save some. the owners got mad, the renters threw us under the bus, the cops showed up, the owner's daughter got in oqui's face...I almost went to jail for assault.
but...I got to tell the renters today that selling us out when THEY failed to ask permission was (and I quote) "a dick move."
felt good to get off my chest...and now I don't give a shit what they do.
all I know is their dogs bark all fucking day, escape at least once a week and I'm always putting them back in the house so they don't die on the road.
score one for moving away.
(the baby is still crying. doooood STOP fighting the nap, yo)
have I mentioned that we didn't even get a counter offer for the house we're looking to buy?!>?!?!
very upsetting. I love that little house...but not enough to overpay for it.
so, chances are we're a'house hunting, again. (<-----teh suck)
but I'm feeling like everything happens for a reason...
and the reason, OBVIOUSLY, is that the bathroom was too damned small!
I've never seen an angrier baby.
sometimes its funny (seriously...ever see a 9 month old make a fist and curse the heavens?)...mostly its frustrating and heartbreaking.
doing our best to keep him moving and distracted...
but OH LAWDY, LAWDY...momma needs some sleep.
in other news. I'm old(er) today.
half a dozen people have told me how skinny I am in the last week (yes. I'm NOT FAT, but I wouldn't go so far as to throw the word "skinny" out there), but noone has seemed to mention my horrendous haircut, pale pallid skin, giant under eye circles and greenish undertones. oh yeah...and I think I'm getting shingles (ok, maybe its herpes, but either way...I think I need an orange and a glass of whole milk).
apparently you "look good" if you aren't overweight. looking old (which I finally do)...doesn't count when you weigh a bucktwenty. nice
I want a brownie sundae. its muh birfday. I should be able to have one.
NOT.
my bestest friend since fourth grade may very well be one of the bravest people on the planet. she's an MIT educated environmental engineer, high powered black american business consultant with a six figure income...
and she quit it all to open a decor store.
the grand opening of SukIo is tomorrow. she's dedicating it to my birthday.
I <3 her and must to go to DC to support her creative endeavors.
maybe when I get some sleep (one of these months)...I make some snazzy stuff for her to sell.
mosaic picture frames?
hand braided wall hangings?
sugar cookies?
ok. that's a little ambitious for the sukester...I'll put it on my list to e-mail her weekly encouragements and baby pics.
my neighbor (this is a wee bit disjointed, can you tell the baby's crying?) gave me a sparkly panda bear birthday card and a gift card. she's the sweetest. I'm almost sad to be moving away from her...granted it won't be far, but we typically give each other a call "gonna be outside to walk in 10 minutes. you in?"
we'll still hang...it'll just take more planning and motivation.
on second thought, she's got a 10 week old and I'm arm wrestling the prof...
I'll prolly see her again in 12 years.
my other neighbors are d-bags. I've "made up" with all of them, cleared the air and psuedo patched it up...but that's as far as I go.
the renters were going to cut down the owner's plants. we felt bad for the lil old lady who planted them at least a decade ago and offered to save some. the owners got mad, the renters threw us under the bus, the cops showed up, the owner's daughter got in oqui's face...I almost went to jail for assault.
but...I got to tell the renters today that selling us out when THEY failed to ask permission was (and I quote) "a dick move."
felt good to get off my chest...and now I don't give a shit what they do.
all I know is their dogs bark all fucking day, escape at least once a week and I'm always putting them back in the house so they don't die on the road.
score one for moving away.
(the baby is still crying. doooood STOP fighting the nap, yo)
have I mentioned that we didn't even get a counter offer for the house we're looking to buy?!>?!?!
very upsetting. I love that little house...but not enough to overpay for it.
so, chances are we're a'house hunting, again. (<-----teh suck)
but I'm feeling like everything happens for a reason...
and the reason, OBVIOUSLY, is that the bathroom was too damned small!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
adoption day.
this lil mofo has been working my last nerve like its his full-time job.
he must go.
I'll be reviewing bids in 24 hours.
come one, come all...come get this kid.
...brat.
he must go.
I'll be reviewing bids in 24 hours.
come one, come all...come get this kid.
...brat.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
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
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
Monday, July 27, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, July 24, 2009
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).
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).
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, July 20, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, July 6, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
give it a whirl
we're going to west virginny to "climb" this weekend.
taking both kids.
packing all my barely edible rice products.
hoping to avoid any and all contact with bees...
and gonna pretend I remember how to climb.
gonna be exhausting beyond all comprehension. next monday should be interesting...to say the least.
in the meantime I MUST start making invites and get a good start on the web-site.
time's a'wastin'
taking both kids.
packing all my barely edible rice products.
hoping to avoid any and all contact with bees...
and gonna pretend I remember how to climb.
gonna be exhausting beyond all comprehension. next monday should be interesting...to say the least.
in the meantime I MUST start making invites and get a good start on the web-site.
time's a'wastin'
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
holy shit
people REALLY get into this whole wedding planning shit. so not my deal. I intentionally picked a date less than two months out so I can get it done, over with and look at the pictures when I'm feeling the need for a wedding fix.
seriously, I don't do details, and I'm not so good with stress (I function really well, but at the expense of the heads and necks of those around me)
there are about 40 bajillion bridal blogs out there.
women obsessed. its like they haven't gotten over the childhood wish to be princesses, fairies and daddy's little girl and are now acting it out on their poor fiance's.
lame.
fortunately for me...my mother is one of them and is doing all the legwork for this here shindig.
all I have to do is open my email several times a day and say yay or nay.
...we're getting alot of nays.
...and we're broke.
oh yeah. I still have a baby, am still getting ready for school, still hate my dogs and still want nothing more than to be rid of this house.
seriously, I don't do details, and I'm not so good with stress (I function really well, but at the expense of the heads and necks of those around me)
there are about 40 bajillion bridal blogs out there.
women obsessed. its like they haven't gotten over the childhood wish to be princesses, fairies and daddy's little girl and are now acting it out on their poor fiance's.
lame.
fortunately for me...my mother is one of them and is doing all the legwork for this here shindig.
all I have to do is open my email several times a day and say yay or nay.
...we're getting alot of nays.
...and we're broke.
oh yeah. I still have a baby, am still getting ready for school, still hate my dogs and still want nothing more than to be rid of this house.
Monday, June 22, 2009
I'm cheap, I know it. I like to show it...
called about the dream venue...cried, sighed, sobbed and begged.
got 25% off and some free rental equipment.
I have two months to plan and execute the perfect wedding for about 100 guests with a miniscule budget.
good thing I'm a crafty bitch.
I'm on it.
got 25% off and some free rental equipment.
I have two months to plan and execute the perfect wedding for about 100 guests with a miniscule budget.
good thing I'm a crafty bitch.
I'm on it.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
seek and ye shall find
found a bigger barn.
love it.loveit. love. it.
can't afford it.
...thinking vegas.
love it.loveit. love. it.
can't afford it.
...thinking vegas.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
toast
no alcohol. no partying past sundown. nowhere to put my ginormous family.
actually, my family will fit just fine...as long as oqui's family doesn't come.
they don't really need to come. I don't like them anyway. and after all:
ITSMYWEDDINGMYWEDDINGMYWEDDINGMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE
so, theres my audition for bridezillas.
think I get the part?
really though...this planning thing SUCKS!
we're at the paring down of the guest list stage, and even after placing friends and relatives into three tiers and hacking off the bottom one...
his family's still there.
psych. I axed them and he doesn't know it yet.
...I need a bigger barn.
actually, my family will fit just fine...as long as oqui's family doesn't come.
they don't really need to come. I don't like them anyway. and after all:
ITSMYWEDDINGMYWEDDINGMYWEDDINGMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE
so, theres my audition for bridezillas.
think I get the part?
really though...this planning thing SUCKS!
we're at the paring down of the guest list stage, and even after placing friends and relatives into three tiers and hacking off the bottom one...
his family's still there.
psych. I axed them and he doesn't know it yet.
...I need a bigger barn.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
wedding. what? what?
finally getting down to the business of planning a wedding.
whoa...
just, whoa.
looking at a fall ceremony. stone barn (oqui wants wood, but oqui aint paying an extra 6 grand, so he'll take what he gets and like it). blue grass band. fireplace. oranges, browns, golds...I think I'm getting close.
going to visit a venue tomorrow.
lets pray it doesn't suck.
the Prof is having a well-baby visit today...5 and 1/2 months late. I'm just not that interested in getting any more vaccinations right now (or ever) and don't feel like being pressured, but I am curious to see how his growth is...so I'm gonna pony up and arm wrestle the pediatrician.
hopefully, they don't ever-so-politely ask me to find another doctor.
he's been god awful cranky and sick for a few days, so I'm guessing his weight is not gonna wow them. "Mrs. Professor's mother, we really think you should consider formula...blah, blah, blah."
bite me, doc.
bite me.
whoa...
just, whoa.
looking at a fall ceremony. stone barn (oqui wants wood, but oqui aint paying an extra 6 grand, so he'll take what he gets and like it). blue grass band. fireplace. oranges, browns, golds...I think I'm getting close.
going to visit a venue tomorrow.
lets pray it doesn't suck.
the Prof is having a well-baby visit today...5 and 1/2 months late. I'm just not that interested in getting any more vaccinations right now (or ever) and don't feel like being pressured, but I am curious to see how his growth is...so I'm gonna pony up and arm wrestle the pediatrician.
hopefully, they don't ever-so-politely ask me to find another doctor.
he's been god awful cranky and sick for a few days, so I'm guessing his weight is not gonna wow them. "Mrs. Professor's mother, we really think you should consider formula...blah, blah, blah."
bite me, doc.
bite me.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
octocock and the 2 inch penis
floating in a sealed change jar on my dining room table is...
octocock.
yes, my daughter killed her goldfish by putting a lid on its jar and YES...she named it octocock.
she SAYS its a mixture of octopus and peacock...I think she's just fascinated with cheesy sex humor and was looking for an excuse to say the word cock.
either way...octocock smells like dead fish.
as for that 2 inch penis...
my neighbor's little boy came home from the NICU this week (he was born at 39 weeks weighing just over 4lbs) so we went on over to visit.
I happened to be standing nearby when she changed his diaper when I saw it...
HIS GIGANTIC HORSE COCK!!!
this baby is still less than 5 pounds and when she unloosed the restraints of his nappy, his monster johnson came unfolding out, rolled off the changing table, skipped across the nursery, high fived his dad, and smacked bryson in the face.
this thing is huge.
...my poor baby :(
I was inclined to think my boy was doing alright in the toolshed, but now I'm hoping he doesn't develop a complex based on the sheer girth of this 9 day old's gigantic dinger.
not to mention...
how am I supposed to look his dad in the eye (and not the package) now????
octocock.
yes, my daughter killed her goldfish by putting a lid on its jar and YES...she named it octocock.
she SAYS its a mixture of octopus and peacock...I think she's just fascinated with cheesy sex humor and was looking for an excuse to say the word cock.
either way...octocock smells like dead fish.
as for that 2 inch penis...
my neighbor's little boy came home from the NICU this week (he was born at 39 weeks weighing just over 4lbs) so we went on over to visit.
I happened to be standing nearby when she changed his diaper when I saw it...
HIS GIGANTIC HORSE COCK!!!
this baby is still less than 5 pounds and when she unloosed the restraints of his nappy, his monster johnson came unfolding out, rolled off the changing table, skipped across the nursery, high fived his dad, and smacked bryson in the face.
this thing is huge.
...my poor baby :(
I was inclined to think my boy was doing alright in the toolshed, but now I'm hoping he doesn't develop a complex based on the sheer girth of this 9 day old's gigantic dinger.
not to mention...
how am I supposed to look his dad in the eye (and not the package) now????
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
trust
we got a late night text last night:
not feeling gud. cn u cm get me?
turns out, The Monkey was being pressured into sneaking out of a friend's house to hang with some (albeit hot but) creepy dudes in an unsavory neighborhood. she didn't like the sound of it and bailed.
my kid is awesome.
as a reward for telling us the truth and making the right call...she got to make a midnight visit to a nearby (male but totally not creepy) friend's house to play video games. of course, I made her take the dogs, a stungun and showed her some quick whoopass techniques.
if she thinks she's safe and can handle her surroundings...I'm starting to trust her judgement.
now...if I could only get her to clean her room.
not feeling gud. cn u cm get me?
turns out, The Monkey was being pressured into sneaking out of a friend's house to hang with some (albeit hot but) creepy dudes in an unsavory neighborhood. she didn't like the sound of it and bailed.
my kid is awesome.
as a reward for telling us the truth and making the right call...she got to make a midnight visit to a nearby (male but totally not creepy) friend's house to play video games. of course, I made her take the dogs, a stungun and showed her some quick whoopass techniques.
if she thinks she's safe and can handle her surroundings...I'm starting to trust her judgement.
now...if I could only get her to clean her room.
Monday, June 8, 2009
return to sender
Dear Mommy,
Give me the spoon. I can do it myself.
Love,
Teh Prof
-------
Dear Professor,
You missed.
Love,
The Floor
-------
Dear Floor,
Don't worry. We've got your back.
Love,
The dogs
--------
To whom it may concern,
How the hell did I get wrapped up in this mess???
Fuck you all,
The Rest of the House
Give me the spoon. I can do it myself.
Love,
Teh Prof
-------
Dear Professor,
You missed.
Love,
The Floor
-------
Dear Floor,
Don't worry. We've got your back.
Love,
The dogs
--------
To whom it may concern,
How the hell did I get wrapped up in this mess???
Fuck you all,
The Rest of the House
2 cameras
13 hours of driving.
1 father - estranged for 33 years.
1 brother - didn't know he had him until a few weeks ago.
several weeks in the making...
4 pictures. all of them of the Prof trying to steal the car.
we're prolly gonna regret the lack of pictures later.
overall the road trip a la bebbe' to meet the "fam" went really well. no tears, no punches thrown and lots of playing with the baby. the only minor freak out was mine (shocker, I know)...when overwhelmed with a dozen psuedo-relatives pawing up my child...next to a table of food I couldn't touch.
time out. reload. much better.
we saw some of the less savory parts of rhode island (most of it), stayed in an uber fancy hotel (house keeping. you wan' me fluff you pillow?), stopped in Newport on the way home and pretty much had a good weekend away.
nobody fell asleep at the wheel and the Prof cried less than an hour total over the course of 4 days...40 minutes of which occurred at one shot when we tried to get him to sleep in a playpen in the hotel.
he's an awesome baby. already back on normal schedule and napping happily away whilst I unpack and unwind.
oqui's brother and wife are great. climbers, mountain bikers, skiers, ice climbers, mountaineers. live in new mexico.
guess who's checking flights already?
we managed to squeeze a little climbing into the trip. once at an uptight, super soft indoor gym (I was throwing down 10's like it was my full time job) and once outside in the mosquito breeding grounds of Lincoln Woods. there was a creepy photog guy there snapping shots...if I find anything good on his website (ie. a picture in which my ass looks stellar)...I'll post it up.
so in the course of one weekend we managed to gain a brother and sister in law (and their psuedo stepdaughter who is the baby whisperer), a father and step-mother...and about 43 quasi siblings.
not too shabby...
just a little loud.
1 father - estranged for 33 years.
1 brother - didn't know he had him until a few weeks ago.
several weeks in the making...
4 pictures. all of them of the Prof trying to steal the car.
we're prolly gonna regret the lack of pictures later.
overall the road trip a la bebbe' to meet the "fam" went really well. no tears, no punches thrown and lots of playing with the baby. the only minor freak out was mine (shocker, I know)...when overwhelmed with a dozen psuedo-relatives pawing up my child...next to a table of food I couldn't touch.
time out. reload. much better.
we saw some of the less savory parts of rhode island (most of it), stayed in an uber fancy hotel (house keeping. you wan' me fluff you pillow?), stopped in Newport on the way home and pretty much had a good weekend away.
nobody fell asleep at the wheel and the Prof cried less than an hour total over the course of 4 days...40 minutes of which occurred at one shot when we tried to get him to sleep in a playpen in the hotel.
he's an awesome baby. already back on normal schedule and napping happily away whilst I unpack and unwind.
oqui's brother and wife are great. climbers, mountain bikers, skiers, ice climbers, mountaineers. live in new mexico.
guess who's checking flights already?
we managed to squeeze a little climbing into the trip. once at an uptight, super soft indoor gym (I was throwing down 10's like it was my full time job) and once outside in the mosquito breeding grounds of Lincoln Woods. there was a creepy photog guy there snapping shots...if I find anything good on his website (ie. a picture in which my ass looks stellar)...I'll post it up.
so in the course of one weekend we managed to gain a brother and sister in law (and their psuedo stepdaughter who is the baby whisperer), a father and step-mother...and about 43 quasi siblings.
not too shabby...
just a little loud.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
my baby's cuter than yours is
pre-pea
post-pea
pea shooter
*zoink*
he LOVES tags. tags, tags, tags. he's a tag seeking missile. I could've saved a bundle at the "tags only" store
first baseball game. iron pigs and Paw Sox. he was AWESOME
feets.
wh, wh...what...what'cha got there, dad?
first baseball game. iron pigs and Paw Sox. he was AWESOME
feets.
wh, wh...what...what'cha got there, dad?now, look what you made me do!
don't let a bitch get bored...
at least not with "spike glue" on hand.
that ISN'T the middle finger. I was making the metal sign...swear.
at least not with "spike glue" on hand.
that ISN'T the middle finger. I was making the metal sign...swear. 
(PS. I totally used to be photogenic.)
Monday, June 1, 2009
he made a funny
yesterday that monkey offered to watch the Prof while oqui and I went grocery shopping.
oqui said, "NO WAY!!! We need him as a buffer so we don't kill each other."
so very true...
and pretty funny.
oqui said, "NO WAY!!! We need him as a buffer so we don't kill each other."
so very true...
and pretty funny.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
no siree bob.
we are totally not getting along.
nope. nuh uh. no way, no how.
surprisingly, its really not as fun as it might sound.
I'm over blaming it on "baby days"...that's a cop out. The kid is cute and we should be enjoying this...together. Instead, we're bitching, moaning, whining and nagging (and by "we" obviously I mean him). there are some core attitude and character issues here. discrepancies. disconnects. conflicts.
the true culprit must be identified and anihilated...
cause, quite frankly, this shit is getting old.
nope. nuh uh. no way, no how.
surprisingly, its really not as fun as it might sound.
I'm over blaming it on "baby days"...that's a cop out. The kid is cute and we should be enjoying this...together. Instead, we're bitching, moaning, whining and nagging (and by "we" obviously I mean him). there are some core attitude and character issues here. discrepancies. disconnects. conflicts.
the true culprit must be identified and anihilated...
cause, quite frankly, this shit is getting old.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
the boss o' me
oqui wants me to get a part-time job.
yessir!
I'ma gemme a job, make us some money and laugh OUT LOUD when I come home from work at night to find oqui sprawled on the floor and drooling with the Prof's foot (and/or pee) in his eye.
he has no idea what he's in for. every time I leave him with the baby for a 45 minute run to the grocery store he gives me 'tude for three days following. (by "he" I actually mean the older of the two brats...this time)
I'm bored. I'd LURRRRVE to get my ass outta this house and off boob duty for a few hours a week, but the man has been forewarned...
if he gives me attitude or starts exercising his "moods"...
I'ma cut his face off.
yessir!
I'ma gemme a job, make us some money and laugh OUT LOUD when I come home from work at night to find oqui sprawled on the floor and drooling with the Prof's foot (and/or pee) in his eye.
he has no idea what he's in for. every time I leave him with the baby for a 45 minute run to the grocery store he gives me 'tude for three days following. (by "he" I actually mean the older of the two brats...this time)
I'm bored. I'd LURRRRVE to get my ass outta this house and off boob duty for a few hours a week, but the man has been forewarned...
if he gives me attitude or starts exercising his "moods"...
I'ma cut his face off.
out on a limb
would it be too much to ask for another set of arms?
I'd settle for an extra foot and two more thumbs.
anything. please.
the kid is driving me fruity.
I'd settle for an extra foot and two more thumbs.
anything. please.
the kid is driving me fruity.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
skillz
we have recently acquired the ability to roll onto our tummy within 3.25 seconds of being put down to nap or sleep regardless of any measure mommy takes to prevent it (and I don't want this to get out, but I'm pretty sure I heard whisperings of duct tape and extension cords)...
we have NOT, however, acquired the consistent ability to roll back onto our back,
nor have we gained the necessary patience or skill to remain asleep on said tummy.
in other words...we're fukt.
we have NOT, however, acquired the consistent ability to roll back onto our back,
nor have we gained the necessary patience or skill to remain asleep on said tummy.
in other words...we're fukt.
Monday, May 18, 2009
puke, scream, whine
well. that was short lived.
I am hereby (re)relegated to turkey and rice.
...but it sho was fun.
I am hereby (re)relegated to turkey and rice.
...but it sho was fun.
helloooooooo! out there
I should really post more. I get the feeling noone is actually reading, but I told myself I'd chronicle the prof's days (at the very least) in my blog.
he's cool. he's really really cool.
he smiles and jibber jabbers and flirts and grabs things and laughs when he farts and all that good stuff.
recently he rediscovered his fingers and toes. they twirl, spin, clench, open, grab and apparently are really tasty.
it's wicked cute.
he's really big into his body right now. he twists and bends and curls and stretches. he's not doing anything too much like crawling but he's approximating a pretty good squirm.
so fast. growing so fast.
he still screams bloody murder and gets hysterical when I leave him with my grandmother and he happens upon hungry. oqui thinks I should try to work a little bit. I think oqui's nuts. not going to school in the fall...probably not going this summer, either.
hungry babies are sad babies. I don't want to leave my baby with someone else to get hungry.
speaking of hungry...can I just say amen, hallelujah and holy shit?
yes. holy shit.
I've stumbled upon digestive enzymes and the ability to eat almost anything in eensy weensy quantities.
chickpeas? yup.
chocolate? yup.
cheesestick? ok...that was pushing it and we had some puke and green poo over it...but I'm still feeling pretty spiffy about this morning's sunflower seed butter experiment.
I ate chinese food and my child didn't die.
woot.
we bailed out on the rendezvous. 20 hours of travel 4 nights in a tent and upwards of 40% chances of rain each day.
no thank you.
I got the report that there were other babies there and I felt like a total chickenshit. but...oh well. I'm a somewhat well-rested chickenshit who took a shower or two this weekend.
I don't reek of hippy and my kid is still on a somewhat normal sleep schedule.
win-win.
I'm feeling a wee lil bit inspired (oqui likes to call these days "AC" for after chocolate. it's trully the nectar of the gods). I've got a giant painting project. gonna snazz up some cheapy craigslist furniture and deck out a playroom...
then I'll finish my mother's day photo frames, resew the curtains I mismeasured and screwed royally, maybe (just maybe) clean out my craft cabinet and potentially make some...
pretty stuff.
I'm not getting too carried away here...just being optimistic.
so far I've "wasted" 72 minutes of precious nap painting time...eating, peeing, blogging and oqui'ing (I really do love that he comes home to see us for lunch every single day)...
must to focus.
must to create.
he's cool. he's really really cool.
he smiles and jibber jabbers and flirts and grabs things and laughs when he farts and all that good stuff.
recently he rediscovered his fingers and toes. they twirl, spin, clench, open, grab and apparently are really tasty.
it's wicked cute.
he's really big into his body right now. he twists and bends and curls and stretches. he's not doing anything too much like crawling but he's approximating a pretty good squirm.
so fast. growing so fast.
he still screams bloody murder and gets hysterical when I leave him with my grandmother and he happens upon hungry. oqui thinks I should try to work a little bit. I think oqui's nuts. not going to school in the fall...probably not going this summer, either.
hungry babies are sad babies. I don't want to leave my baby with someone else to get hungry.
speaking of hungry...can I just say amen, hallelujah and holy shit?
yes. holy shit.
I've stumbled upon digestive enzymes and the ability to eat almost anything in eensy weensy quantities.
chickpeas? yup.
chocolate? yup.
cheesestick? ok...that was pushing it and we had some puke and green poo over it...but I'm still feeling pretty spiffy about this morning's sunflower seed butter experiment.
I ate chinese food and my child didn't die.
woot.
we bailed out on the rendezvous. 20 hours of travel 4 nights in a tent and upwards of 40% chances of rain each day.
no thank you.
I got the report that there were other babies there and I felt like a total chickenshit. but...oh well. I'm a somewhat well-rested chickenshit who took a shower or two this weekend.
I don't reek of hippy and my kid is still on a somewhat normal sleep schedule.
win-win.
I'm feeling a wee lil bit inspired (oqui likes to call these days "AC" for after chocolate. it's trully the nectar of the gods). I've got a giant painting project. gonna snazz up some cheapy craigslist furniture and deck out a playroom...
then I'll finish my mother's day photo frames, resew the curtains I mismeasured and screwed royally, maybe (just maybe) clean out my craft cabinet and potentially make some...
pretty stuff.
I'm not getting too carried away here...just being optimistic.
so far I've "wasted" 72 minutes of precious nap painting time...eating, peeing, blogging and oqui'ing (I really do love that he comes home to see us for lunch every single day)...
must to focus.
must to create.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
all clear, but still a lil foggy
the prof's eeg was normal. the nurse said, "it isn't seizures...it's prolly just -his way-"
HAHAHAHAHA
so my child isn't epileptic...just a spazz. I could've called that one without 26 electrodes and 45 minutes of blood curdling screams. it runs in the blood...my 13 year old caught it, too (more on that when I'm not disgusted with her grades and choice in boys).
right now the prof is screaming his ever loving head off. he's REALLY not feeling well...at all.
been having boo boo belly for 3 days, now. it's getting old...for all of us.
he wants to eat food SOOOO badly. he mouths and drools whenever I eat and gnaws on his hand after he's done nursing. he's totally not satisfied with just milk, and is starting to balk at rice cereal.
the kid aint dumb. he wants tater tots. I just wonder when (if ever) he'll be able to eat like a normal child/human. if he has celiac's disease...gluten is a no-no forevah. forevah-evah? forevah.
damn.
what will he smear all over his face at his first birthday??? organic applesauce and rice cereal?
fun.
yum.
meanwhile, I want to eat taquitos and rice and beans like nobody's fucking business, but I'll have to settle for rice milk, watermelon and the occassional Puffin.
I'm getting sick of Puffins.
I'm getting sick of chicken...and turkey...meat in general, really. If I could eat beans, nuts and seeds you'd be reading the true tales of an involuntary vegan (I do so love me some dairy) and I'd be exchanging recipes with long-haired folks (men and women alike) who smell ever so faintly of aging volkswagen bus and patchouli.
I want a cookie. a real cookie.
then I want to take a bath in chocolate.
real.dark.chocolate.
fuck. now I'm hungry...and horny.
HAHAHAHAHA
so my child isn't epileptic...just a spazz. I could've called that one without 26 electrodes and 45 minutes of blood curdling screams. it runs in the blood...my 13 year old caught it, too (more on that when I'm not disgusted with her grades and choice in boys).
right now the prof is screaming his ever loving head off. he's REALLY not feeling well...at all.
been having boo boo belly for 3 days, now. it's getting old...for all of us.
he wants to eat food SOOOO badly. he mouths and drools whenever I eat and gnaws on his hand after he's done nursing. he's totally not satisfied with just milk, and is starting to balk at rice cereal.
the kid aint dumb. he wants tater tots. I just wonder when (if ever) he'll be able to eat like a normal child/human. if he has celiac's disease...gluten is a no-no forevah. forevah-evah? forevah.
damn.
what will he smear all over his face at his first birthday??? organic applesauce and rice cereal?
fun.
yum.
meanwhile, I want to eat taquitos and rice and beans like nobody's fucking business, but I'll have to settle for rice milk, watermelon and the occassional Puffin.
I'm getting sick of Puffins.
I'm getting sick of chicken...and turkey...meat in general, really. If I could eat beans, nuts and seeds you'd be reading the true tales of an involuntary vegan (I do so love me some dairy) and I'd be exchanging recipes with long-haired folks (men and women alike) who smell ever so faintly of aging volkswagen bus and patchouli.
I want a cookie. a real cookie.
then I want to take a bath in chocolate.
real.dark.chocolate.
fuck. now I'm hungry...and horny.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
QoD
this was the question of the day yesterday, posed by my 13 year old daughter:
What would your ideal life be?
me: this one...with a little more money.
I think she might've been slightly disappointed that I didn't say something like astronaut or supermodel, and frankly, I'm a bit surprised that I didn't mention naps or brownie sundaes.
the moral of the story? I'm exhausted and drained...
but pretty much loving my life.
in other news:
-babies do NOT like having 26 electrodes attached to their scalps for brain wave monitoring. he cried so hard during the set up we started to think he'd never trust us again...then he smiled and fell asleep. regardless of what the neurologist says his EEG shows...at least we know he still loves us.
-got the jogging stroller (that we've been researching for weeks) and immediately realized he's a bit wobbly for it. ordered padding and strap covers rush delivery...only to realize the forecast calls for rain for the next 4 days. prolly coulda saved that extra coin for my brownie sundae in a few months.
-hurt my back. hurt my thumb worse. I've got ibuprofen and ace bandages...just glad to be climbing again.
-I don't love my dogs any more. not at all. somebody please take them. soon. thanks.
What would your ideal life be?
me: this one...with a little more money.
I think she might've been slightly disappointed that I didn't say something like astronaut or supermodel, and frankly, I'm a bit surprised that I didn't mention naps or brownie sundaes.
the moral of the story? I'm exhausted and drained...
but pretty much loving my life.
in other news:
-babies do NOT like having 26 electrodes attached to their scalps for brain wave monitoring. he cried so hard during the set up we started to think he'd never trust us again...then he smiled and fell asleep. regardless of what the neurologist says his EEG shows...at least we know he still loves us.
-got the jogging stroller (that we've been researching for weeks) and immediately realized he's a bit wobbly for it. ordered padding and strap covers rush delivery...only to realize the forecast calls for rain for the next 4 days. prolly coulda saved that extra coin for my brownie sundae in a few months.
-hurt my back. hurt my thumb worse. I've got ibuprofen and ace bandages...just glad to be climbing again.
-I don't love my dogs any more. not at all. somebody please take them. soon. thanks.
Friday, April 24, 2009
the "s" word
yesterday the Prof had three of what were very likely seizures.
he's scheduled for an EEG on tuesday.
I think he's fine. I feel he's fine. I BELIEVE he's fine...
but it still scared me shitless and left me crying hours later.
protecting babies is busy work.
he's scheduled for an EEG on tuesday.
I think he's fine. I feel he's fine. I BELIEVE he's fine...
but it still scared me shitless and left me crying hours later.
protecting babies is busy work.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
cold french fries
do you feed a hungry man on the street?
do you feed a hungry man on the street who doesn't quite ask, but moreso demands your leftovers?
do you feed a hungry man on the street who doesn't quite ask, but moreso demands your leftovers if he's with a large group of wanna be hippies with nothing better to do than taunt the police?
do you feed a hungry man on the street who doesn't quite ask, but moreso demands your leftovers if he's with a large group of wanna be hippies with nothing better to do than taunt the police and obviously has the money to get high and drunk?
do you feed a hungry man on the street who doesn't quite ask, but moreso demands your leftovers if he's with a large group of wanna be hippies with nothing better to do than taunt the police and obviously has the money to get high and drunk and has done so recently?
do you feed a hungry man on the street who doesn't quite ask, but moreso demands your leftovers if he's with a large group of wanna be hippies with nothing better to do than taunt the police and obviously has the money to get high and drunk and has done so recently who yells at your daughter and your friends?
do you feed a hungry man on the street who doesn't quite ask, but moreso demands your leftovers if he's with a large group of wanna be hippies taunting the police and obviously has the money to get high and drunk and has done so recently who yells at your daughter and your friends and then goes on to make rather loud assumptions about your political affiliation?
or do you promise to plaster him on the building front with your second hand volvo if he ever threatens your people, again?
I did neither...and I'm actually a bit disappointed in myself. first, I was a bit upset with myself for not just giving the d-bag the food. I mean...if a dood is hungry enough to (angrily) beg for our leftovers in front of his posse...he's prolly pretty hungry.
but something about him rubbed oqui the wrong way and he told the monkey not to give him the food. I didn't understand his motivation at the time, but I trust him so backed him up. three seconds later I felt guilty.
then I talked with the 'pah and the kid about it (separately, cause the convos had decidedly different tones) and got more and more angry every time I thought about it.
this motherfucker punked me. he threatened my family and called out my kid on the street and I didn't fucking stab him. never mind the initial guilt about ignoring a hungry man (oqui was right. he's the wrong kind of hippy)...now I'd like a redo so I can cut this bitch.
so now here I am...thinking I'm all sorts of tough, and I froze. I couldn't decide in the moment how I really felt about the situation and just...walked away.
turning the other cheek isn't exactly my forte and I kinda feel like a lil bitch for having let it happen.
if that particular mallrat sans mall happens to be in our path the next time we go to the Gunks (oh, yeah...we took the prof on his first climbing trip, btw. and besides the cold fry dood, it went FABULOUSLY)...I'm prolly gonna have to be bailed outta jail.
teh suki will not be made the bitch twice.
do you feed a hungry man on the street who doesn't quite ask, but moreso demands your leftovers?
do you feed a hungry man on the street who doesn't quite ask, but moreso demands your leftovers if he's with a large group of wanna be hippies with nothing better to do than taunt the police?
do you feed a hungry man on the street who doesn't quite ask, but moreso demands your leftovers if he's with a large group of wanna be hippies with nothing better to do than taunt the police and obviously has the money to get high and drunk?
do you feed a hungry man on the street who doesn't quite ask, but moreso demands your leftovers if he's with a large group of wanna be hippies with nothing better to do than taunt the police and obviously has the money to get high and drunk and has done so recently?
do you feed a hungry man on the street who doesn't quite ask, but moreso demands your leftovers if he's with a large group of wanna be hippies with nothing better to do than taunt the police and obviously has the money to get high and drunk and has done so recently who yells at your daughter and your friends?
do you feed a hungry man on the street who doesn't quite ask, but moreso demands your leftovers if he's with a large group of wanna be hippies taunting the police and obviously has the money to get high and drunk and has done so recently who yells at your daughter and your friends and then goes on to make rather loud assumptions about your political affiliation?
or do you promise to plaster him on the building front with your second hand volvo if he ever threatens your people, again?
I did neither...and I'm actually a bit disappointed in myself. first, I was a bit upset with myself for not just giving the d-bag the food. I mean...if a dood is hungry enough to (angrily) beg for our leftovers in front of his posse...he's prolly pretty hungry.
but something about him rubbed oqui the wrong way and he told the monkey not to give him the food. I didn't understand his motivation at the time, but I trust him so backed him up. three seconds later I felt guilty.
then I talked with the 'pah and the kid about it (separately, cause the convos had decidedly different tones) and got more and more angry every time I thought about it.
this motherfucker punked me. he threatened my family and called out my kid on the street and I didn't fucking stab him. never mind the initial guilt about ignoring a hungry man (oqui was right. he's the wrong kind of hippy)...now I'd like a redo so I can cut this bitch.
so now here I am...thinking I'm all sorts of tough, and I froze. I couldn't decide in the moment how I really felt about the situation and just...walked away.
turning the other cheek isn't exactly my forte and I kinda feel like a lil bitch for having let it happen.
if that particular mallrat sans mall happens to be in our path the next time we go to the Gunks (oh, yeah...we took the prof on his first climbing trip, btw. and besides the cold fry dood, it went FABULOUSLY)...I'm prolly gonna have to be bailed outta jail.
teh suki will not be made the bitch twice.
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