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.

uuuuugh.

I don't feel so good.

harness caused wicked tummy pain.

bloated. headache. neck sore.

momma needs a nap.




...wish me luck.

down with cake

or stuffed with it, anyway.

I've gained 5 pounds.


niiiice.

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.

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.

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!

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.

boy, oh boy!

I sure am glad nobody reads this...

that way I can go ahead and post nudie pics.

cutest baby on the innerwebs

oh-niner

I hereby deem 2009 the year of the baby arms.

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

I've always got a baby in them.

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

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

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

and...that's what it gets.

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

people used to call me muskles.

haaaaaaaaaaaaahahahaha.

no.

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

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

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

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

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

tragic.

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

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

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

and sleep when able.

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

but I WILL get my muskles back.






eventually.

to oq with love

dear oqui,

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

and roast you in the yard.

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

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

I really didn't sleep at all.

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

and adjust the fucking thermostat...

silently.

Thanks for your cooperation in this matter.

All my love,
Teh Suki

prescription

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

don't know. long time.

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

then maybe another couple o' minutes o' nap.

not too bad, I must say.

not too bad.

exhaustion, thy name is suki

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

I'm tired.

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

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

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

not sleeping is not helping.

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

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

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

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

why am I going, then, you ask?

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

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

for me...

exhaustion piled on top of fatigue...

is just a fucking nightmare.

PPD FTL!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

which, as far as I can tell...

is never.


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

sooo sleepy

whaaaaaat is up with me?

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

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

then hit a frickin wall.

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

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

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

so, again I say...whatup?

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

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

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