Monthly Archives: July 2009


Yes, tomorrow, after a year and  8 months,  I get to see my girls! This is the first time they will be visiting me here. I can’t freaking wait. I mean, yeah, I am full of all sorts of paralyzing fears emotions and such, but mostly I am excited.

In other news, I know everyone wants belly pics and ultrasound shots, but seriously, I am gigantic and camera shy right now, and I feel a little weird about posting pictures that all seem to have arrows directed at my son’s genitalia.

Wow, my son.  Sounds weird.  I am going to have a son.

Um, anyway.  Ill try to find some non genital pointing pics to post, and perhaps a belly shot, though don’t plan on seeing my face until this kid is oh, 6 months old or so.  (For some reason that’s where I tend to gain weight when pregnant, don’t ask me why. Yes, besides the scary gihugantic belly of doom. )



Filed under The Kid, and The Other Kids.

The Forest (Or: Don’t analyze my weird pregnant dreams)

Once I lived in a beautiful young forest.

Lush and green and teeming with life and possibility, the forest was a lovely place to be, and I was happy there.  But as the days passed, the forest grew in ways I did not expect. Strange trees grew too tall and eventually, they blocked out the sun. I could no longer feel its warmth on my skin, which made me sad.

Then, the bushes and undergrowth started to become overgrown and no matter how I tried to cut them back, soon I was unable to move around the forest by my usual paths.

Eventually I was confined to a small, dark corner of the forest.  And strange vines crept towards me, inches further every time I opened my eyes. The oppressive weight of the darkness and the forest itself became too much to bear, and I struggled, but the vines had thorns  pierced my skin when I tried to push them away.

In fear, I closed my eyes and hid.

But when I opened them, I was still trapped. And one day, I simply ran out of room. The vines were upon me, and they had wrapped around me in my sleep, entangling my arms and legs. I woke up to the feeling of them upon me, thorns delving deeper into my flesh as I struggled, the vines inching towards my mouth, trying to completely take me over.

And panic welled up inside me and I screamed. And into that scream, I put all of the fear and helplessness of the past years.  But also, in went all of my rage and anger at having been denied the beautiful forest I had once known.

And every where my scream touched, the forest burned. Fire erupted in all directions, and the vines crackled as the flames engulfed them. I shouted in glee at that, but then realized the flames were burning parts of me as well.

Having no escape, I dug myself deep into the earth and waited.

Days passed, and it was if time was moving sideways instead of forward.  I raised my head from the earth and watched, still nursing my burns.

All around me was silence and death. The trees were almost completely gone, reduced to charred stumps in most places. One large plant remained intact in front of me, but for the fact that it was completely black, and I freed an arm and cautiously reached out to it, but as I did, it disintegrated, crumbling to ashes and dust, joining most everything else in the forest.

Frightened, I buried myself once more and let the earth heal my wounds. The next time I looked out, I saw something strange.  Small tendrils of green were appearing. New life was growing somehow in this desolate wasteland. And then I realized that the sun could once again see me. I arose completely from my hole, and basked in the warmth, laying in the ashes of the ruined forest, I let the sun feel my skin, let it warm my wounds which were slowly becoming scars instead.

I don’t know how much time passed like that, perhaps years. Around me, things grew as inside me, things healed. I was shocked to see that the plants that formed from the bits of green were different. Not at all like the forest I’d lost. New trees and vines and bushes made their way up towards the sun. the new growth surrounded the burned  remains of the old almost completely, but I could still sometimes see the charred outline of a tree peeking out from underneath the vines.

As the forest I grew, I began to fear that it would, once again, take over and try to consume me, but these trees were different, they let the light filter through so the sun could still reach me. They kept my paths clear, and gave me new ones to explore.  I was safe here.

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Filed under Rants, Rambling, and Musing.

Twelve days and counting

“How soon until my sisters get here, Mommy?” Asks the kid.

“Twelve days.”

Holy shit. Twelve days. I can’t help but feel a surge of joy (and a drop of panic) at this news. I can’t wait.  It has been one year and six months since I have seen them last. And in twelve days, they will be here. Here. For three whole weeks! This is the longest stretch I have had them since the divorce.

And every time I see them, it is wonderful, absolutely, but also the most emotionally explosive thing I have ever had to deal with. Every time they come back to me, we have to relearn each other, for we have again become relative strangers while we passed the years apart.And we do, but it takes time, and its tenuous.  And then I have to leave them all over again. Every time. Without a promise of when we will meet again. Sometimes I wonder if it does more damage than good. My heart is harder, but they, they are young and fragile. And the voice inside my head constantly plagues me with doubts and worries. You know the one. It never, ever shuts up.

But what if he doesn’t send them? It asks.

Shut up little voice. I say. He already told them they were coming. Even he is not that cruel.

…” Says the little voice.

Shut up, little voice. I repeat. Like a mantra.

What if they hate me this time? What if they hate The Kid?

They won’t. I say, trying to sound sure. Also: Shut up.

…Hey! What if he doesn’t pick them up? The voice ponders.


Has anyone out there invented a time accelerator yet?

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Filed under The Kid, and The Other Kids.

As a country, don’t we have better things to do?

I  wasn’t going to comment publicly on the spectacle that has been the death of Michael Jackson. I really wasn’t.  When the 24 hour news networks were running stories about Jon and Kate and their divorce, I let it go. I’m being all Zen like and  thinking as though  I am a duck. All this is just water, rolling off my back. I did not let the anger get inside. The annoyance, at how, we as a country, appear to care more about our celebrities and faux celebrities than we do about, oh, say, war.

( Which, hey, by the way, is still going on.) I try to avoid watching the 24hour spew networks anyway for a myriad of reasons, the least of which is their tendency to push real issues to the back burner. As I saw, when i mistakenly flipped over to headline news sometime during the week of this latest freakshow.  People sobbing and crying and going on and on about what a wonderful person this man was while the ticker along the bottom brings news of soldiers dying in other places, actual heroes, dead, and as usual relegated to a 13 second nameless ticker mention.

I tried to let this go, tried to think zen like thoughts. Tried to be the duck. And then they started talking about what a wonderful inspirational icon the man was, and though he was a bit “quirky” the world had lost a treasure. At this point,  I started to lose it a little bit inside.

Um, seriously. People? The word you are looking for is not “quirky” nor is it “eccentric”. It is “pedophile”.

Are we that screwed up, that we all can’t see how insane it is to hold 24 hour tributes to this person, bury him as though he was royalty and just gloss over that whole phase in his life where he was paying kids off for having exposed himself to them?

I mean, yeah, sure, he had some hits back in the day. He made some music. And made a spectacle of himself, and you know, we love spectacle, so it’s OK. (Besides, who hasn’t hung their infant out of a window lately?)

It’s sad for his family that he is dead I suppose. But we are expected to mourn as a nation, as a country, as a world- and just pretend like this guy was the greatest thing since sliced bread?

No thanks. I have better things to do.


Filed under Books, Television, Movies, Music and Other Popular Things., Rants, Rambling, and Musing., Things That Suck

Dear World

I’m sorry, I know I have been terribly neglectful these past months.  At first, I just needed some time to internalize and deal with my small tragedies, but then… well, then-the dreaded phenomena known as “pregnant brain” kicked into full gear.

If you have ever been pregnant or known a pregnant person, then chances are, you know exactly what pregnant brain is, even if you do not know the oh-so-scientific term for it.

Have you ever started a sentence only to forget what you were talking about right in the middle?  (Something I am notorious for doing anyway, even un-pregnant) It’s kind of like that except instead of losing a train of thought completely, it just skips to a new track. So many of my sentences start with ” Let’s paint the room…” and end with”Pie!” The result of this is that I can barely think a coherent sentence, let alone write a coherent blog post.

So, we did in fact manage to completely paint the room, after four coats of evil yellow paint. And we did, after much searching, manage to find furniture  and assemble it. So, we are getting there. Slowly but surely.

I just hope I have a brain left at the end of this journey.

Speaking of pie, the kids will be here in just a few incredibly long and slow moving weeks. I can’t wait, and I have no idea if I am ready for this.  And then school starts back up. And somewhere in the middle of all this, the Kid is turning Six.

Almost Six-year-olds are brats. How is it that no one has told me this before? I keep waiting for a stage to pass, and it eventually does, but there always seems to be a worse one waiting. The Terrible Two’s turned into the Bossy Threes which became the Whiny Fours which became the Fearful Fives which, apparently, become the Snotty Sixes.

Is it the same with boys? What the hell am I going to do with a boy anyway?

In case you were wondering: the name of the week is Eli.

See what I mean?

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Filed under Blog related Blog Posts., Rants, Rambling, and Musing., Tales in Baby-growing