life in the slow/fast/slow/fast/slow lane

Whether you’ve noticed or not, I haven’t blogged much.  At least not here. I’ve blogged like a mad woman over at the fam blog.  But I censor myself there, and I don’t have to here.

My relationship with hubby seems to be falling to shit once again.  I’m depressed. I have health issues that I either can’t fix, or can’t afford to fix. I’m angry at the stupid weather.  I’m angry that my 4yr old can piss me off so quickly, and elicit a reaction that she’s obviously yearning for, and I give it to her. 

I was told 2 months ago that I’m depressed, that I can take something to help me get through it – that it probably wouldn’t take long.  But hubby flipped his fucking LID over the idea, and because everything I fucking DO is for him, mostly, I didn’t take them.  He flipped bcause he’s known “people” on antidepressants before, and they were zoned out, made rash decisions, blah blah fucking blah.  Oh, and of course, what’s the effects on our son, whom I’m exclusively breastfeeding?

Oh, I don’t know – maybe the effects of me ALWAYS BEING MISERABLE AND ALWAYS YELLING AT HIS SIBLINGS – that might do something, too.

And I talk to him about it – yes, I most certianly do. Trying to keep those lines of communication open – that’s Me. Ms. Graham fuckin Bell.  And the results?

“Well, I’m depressed too.  We live in a depressed part of the country. I have a dead-end job. We have nothing to look forward to.”

Gee

I’m all warm & fuzzy now.

He can be so close-minded about things, there’s no way in hell I could get him into counseling.  So I say well, research this – figure out where to move where it’s not so damned shitty.

I give him all the fucking power.

I hate that I do this because it looks like FLIPPY is coming back and you know what? I was really starting to dislike him… severely.

It happens when he starts to dislike his job.  Which is, frequently, frequent.  The people are stupid, the boss is stupid, blahblahblah.  He’s doing a job he dislikes to begin with.  Well, guess WHAT?  Shit happens.

sigh

I apparently have a severely infected tooth or teeth that need to come out like YESTERDAY, according to the dentist. The infection could cause nerve damage, they tell me.  The news story tells me it could go to my brain & kill me.  I’m now on antibiotics, but I’m hedging on having them pulled because of the money.  The insurance company has a ONE YEAR waiting period on surgical extractions -which these are because they’re broken off at the gumline – because, you know… I like pain.

yah

And hubby’s idea of us alternating, one week he gets to decide what we’re going to do (in bed), and the next week is my choice… has really turned into a bad idea.  This weekend was my turn, and I felt OBLIGATED to have sex with him – sex during which he only touched me very briefly except for his dick.  Sex that I couldn’t wait for it to be over.  Sex that was so completely unsatisfying … there’s not even a word for.  I felt OBLIGATED.  What the fuck is up with that? 

I just don’t like him right now.

I don’t like me either, just to be fair.

It pisses me off to think I’ll have to wean my son so I can go get a fucking (stupid ass, low-paying retail or tourism) job so he can stay home and play with his dick music all day long.

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Nature hates me (or… there goes my chances for getting on Survivor)

No – seriously, it does.

The new photo on my blog header was taken today at this beautiful, serene lake about 10 minutes from home. We got there early, got a nice spot with lots of shade, but near enough to the beach to be able to watch the kids play in the sand.

10 minutes into our little outing, I got BIT. I got bit by some asshole bug horsefly wannabe. I watched the damned thing happen. This is what happened to my hand:

I got bit no less than 7 times in the 5 hours we were there. My baby boy got bit once. The other THREE people in our little party – ya know, the man & two other kidlets? NOTHING. Not that I wish they would have, but WTF.

So then, there we are, sitting at our kitchen table, eating the banana splits that I bribed promised everyone if we could PLEASE LEAVE THIS GODFORSAKEN BUG FEST once we left the beach, hubby came up behind my chair and I asked him if I’d gotten sunburnt, because my shoulder kind of felt like it had.

THERE WAS A FUCKING TICK SUCKING MY BLOOD OUT, that’s why it felt weird.

Nature hates me.

To Guilt or not to Guilt… that is the question

I have written this post for my (former) baby blog now turned family blog, but because I have such a diverse readership, I thought I’d post it here as well to see what kinds of comments I’d get from the 1 or 2 folks who visit here

Kristen over at Motherhood Uncensored had an interesting post yesterday about mom guilt. As you know, I have tons of mom guilt. But mine is not necessarily brought on by other’s expectations or judgements of my actions. For the most part, I really don’t *care* what you think about the fact that I’m a stay at home mom. Yes, many women fought for the women’s movement so that I would be allowed to go to work if I wanted. I am grateful to have that “right”, and I’m also grateful that I don’t have to use it.

Hubby & I purposely choose to go without things so that I can stay at home with my children because *I* *Personally* *Believe* that that’s where I belong. I couldn’t stand the idea of missing anything that my child would do for the first, second, third time. I couldn’t stand someone else making decisions about my kid on a daily basis. As it was, when I went to work when my son was 6, I felt guilty and he was well past the “firsts”!

I worked for about 18 months and was home again, having my daughter. Last summer, just when I was thinking I should start looking for a job, as hubby had had no luck, I got pregnant with my son. LOL It just is obvious to me that I don’t belong at work LOL

So anyways, I don’t care if you don’t agree with it. I feel no guilt whatsoever. We don’t drive a new car – we drive a 1998 used minivan. We don’t have cable tv, although we do have a generous friend who allows us to watch tv through his Sling Box and Tivo, but if he didn’t, we would simply not have it – I can’t justify spending $800 a year on a bunch of crap television!

I don’t care if you don’t agree with my breastfeeding, or homeschooling or any of the things I do that are radical from your views. There’s no guilt there either. None of my children have been baptised/christened/etc. We’re simply not a religious family. Nope, no guilt there either.

So where does all that guilt come from? My new blog friend Frog Princess recently revealed that she’s going to have to go back to work perhaps next month. Her daughter was born a few days before Zachary, so they’re the same age. Do I judge her for the fact that she’s going back to work? Nah. I feel BAD for her, but I don’t think she’s less of a mom because she’s making that choice. The SAHM life isn’t for everyone. Hell, it’s not even for ME some days. But, as my mom used to say, you’ve made your bed, now lay in it.

Most of my family have done things the more traditional way. My mom, sister & sister in law all went back to work after having their babies. None of them breastfed for more than a week or month. None of them homeschool. All of them had their babies Christened. All of them had vaginal births. To say I’m the radical in the family is an understatement LOL Do they make me feel guilty for my choices? Nope. So where does that mom guilt that so many women suffer from come from? Is it really other women’s opinions of them, or is their perception that other women are judging them?

Maybe it’s an age thing. Do you care less about what other people think of you the older you get? I know I used to feel those scornful looks from people when I was younger. My weight, perhaps, was the biggest culprit. I just assumed people were staring, making harsh comments about me under their breath or in their heads or to their horrified co-conspirators. Were they? I’ll never know – but I felt like they were and that was enough to make me feel bad. Maybe that perception changed as I got older.

Do I wish that all moms could stay home with their children and be able to pay their bills and buy new things, etc.? Of course. Is it possible? Of course not. We need those women doing those jobs they do in order for our world to turn the way it does. We need women to formula feed because otherwise (and I’m not being sarcastic), those jobs would be lost – the ones who make the formula, the cans, the bottles. We need parents to send their kids to school – again, the jobs, etc. (Although I find it interesting that the homeschool evaluator that we use is a public school teacher who homeschools LOL)

So why the guilt, why the blame game?

Do I think I’m a better mother because I am a homeschooling, breastfeeding, non-religiousing(?), stay at homing(?) parent? Hell no. But I’m the best parent I can be, no matter what others might or might not think, and I think that’s the only way TO be.

So to those new moms and semi-new moms, stop worrying about what others think or you perceive they might be thinking about you and your choices. Do YOUR best to raise happy, healthy, socially responsible, thoughtful children and your kid(s) will thrive.

Now, if I can just get past the guilt I put on MYSELF, I’d be home free!

Being grateful.

Yesterday, my (oldest) son looked out the window and griped about the weather. Now granted, it IS April, and he should be able to go out and play by now, but anyways, I said to him “you know, you ought to be lucky we’re not in Virginia. Look at all those people who aren’t going home to their parents, kids, husbands and wives tonight”. His facial expression changed immediately and he asked me not to talk about it anymore.

I do not shield my son from the horrors of the world. Well, I don’t let him WATCH them unfold, but I do tell him what’s going on. I keep him (generally) informed, because he needs to understand and appreciate what he has. Whenever he complains about his sister, I remind him of her age and of the fact that we’re very lucky that we HAVE a healthy 3 yr old baby girl who can drive him crazy, instead of one born unable to see, or talk, or walk. I want him to be grateful for what he has, because that’s ALL he has. Of course it’s not always easy to remember these things. Even for me – my daughter has been driving me NUTS lately, with her apparent jealousy over the baby. But I DO take a step back and remind myself just how incredibly LUCKY I have been in the draw of life – if 1 in 133 babies are born with autism, and my 3 haven’t, that’s a pretty good draw.

Hell, I’m just grateful that I am not one of these parents that apparently has no moral compass and can possibly do this to their child, or let it be done. I HAVE a heart, and it’s full of my children. Their health, their welfare and even their little butts.

It is with this in mind that I take up this challenge posted here. I may not get to it every day, but whenever I do post, I’ll include something that I’m grateful for.

Today, I’m grateful to have all of my children in one place, safe and sound. That’s the biggest and best to me.

The Measure of a Man

“The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.” -Martin Luther King, Jr.

Upon my reading of Kristen’s blog entry for yesterday, I found myself still thinking about it after I’d shut my browser, after I’d gone downstairs to start lunch and wash dishes. It stayed on my mind throughout those preparations and that’s when I decided I needed to blog about it.

The above quote kept coming to mind, though I did have to go look up who originally said it. Kristen’s blog posting today got me to thinking about my own man, and how he measures (don’t be a perv!). It’s very true… it’s easy to be the stand-up guy when things are easy. It’s during those hard, stupid, emotional times when it gets tricky – and when the real person behind the machismo and testosterone stands up. It’s that guy, ultimately, that you need in your life. Not the one that says “no, honey, those pants don’t make you look fat” … ok, that one is good too, but you know what I mean.

Anyone who has read my blog for a decent length of time will know that I’ve not always been blessed with that guy. My man hasn’t always been my prince charming – there were times when I blogged about what a selfish, self-absorbed asshole he was. As well, I haven’t always been the wife/mother/spouse I should have been either. Specifically, I think back to yesteryear when I got high-speed cable internet and was on the net CONSTANTLY. I wasn’t Suzy Homemaker, that’s for sure. However, I grew, I changed, I got better. No, I’m not Suzy Homemaker yet, but at least I DO try to keep DHS people away

Somewhere along the way (2 years ago, almost), though, things changed within our relationship and things got better. LOTS better. And I blogged about that too. How he’s changed so much in that time, and continued to grow and change. He was never the type of guy to go out drinking with friends – hell, he hasn’t got any (honestly). But he was never that type. He’s always been family-centered, although his ideas on how to treat a woman were rather skewed. That changed, he now appreciates me and what I do 100% more than he ever did before. But that’s easy when I’m keeping the house clean, the kids fed and him happy. It’s when I can’t or don’t do those things that challenges him, I’m sure. It’s during these last 6 weeks when he purposely did every load of laundry. Even when I told him *I CAN DO THAT*, he did it anyways. Just to help out. It’s when he came home after working 8 hours and then cooked dinner. Because he could, and so I wouldn’t have to. And when I’d protest, he’d say “Your job right now is to take care of him” (meaning baby Zach). While incredibly sexist-sounding, it *is* true. Since I’m the only one who can feed him, and to feed him properly, I need rest, ok – you’re right honey, I’ll do that. And I HAVE. It’s been hard, because I know how hard it is to juggle it all. I’ve been doing it *all* for years. All he’s done when he’s come home was sit at his puter. I’ve cooked, cleaned, etc. and that’s been fine. It gets on my nerves every once in a while, and I feel unappreciated, but I get over it and go on. But to see him doing these things, without the whole martyr thing to go with it, has been really really nice.

So now that things have calmed down and I’m back on my feet and am able to pick up where I left off, he’s still helping. This is the best part of all, because now he doesn’t *have to*, he is anyways. That’s neat. It’s new. I’m LIKING IT!

Does he still drop the ball from time to time though? Hell yeah. We all do. But there’s things that have hurt and will stay hurt. Like last year when his father told me to get the fuck off his property and that I was never to step foot there again… hubby didn’t defend me – hubby didn’t say a damned word. He let his father speak to me like that in front of our children. He let his father call him pussy whipped in front of our children. He also let his father talk to my son like he was shit – blaming my 8 yr old for a perceived slight that had happened 2 years before. This hurt. A LOT. He never spoke to his father about any of this. They just went back to pretending like we’re all just one big happy family. IT was never addressed. He was allowed to do that and nothing was ever said. That hurt.

My main point about this entry was originally to say that he has proven what a man he is during the last 6 weeks. He proves it daily now. Hourly sometimes. Yesterday, willingly taking all three kids at once while I went to a dr. appointment, literally walking the halls with the littlest one (who was hungering for mama) while he waited for another dr. appt. for the baby & then taking them in for that appt.! Tonight, willingly taking all three kids at once while I go to my munch. For changing diapers, and waking up on his own several times a night to check on the sleeping baby, without me even knowing it. For knowing about my blogging & not having a problem w/me venting about him, our life, our kids or whatever. For slowly learning how to handle a weepy, post-partum woman who doesn’t even know why she’s crying.

For being my perfect mate.

waking up

Part of the paradox that is child birth is a sense of accomplishment. You have put forth an entire human being. You’ve created life. Religiousness aside, you’ve DONE THIS. Look at what I did!

The other part of child birth is that it takes away every last ounce of dignity you may have ever had in the first place. Child birth isn’t pretty, sexy or remotely attractive in any way. Neither is the resulting recovery, and of course, add in the additional, inevitable lack of sleep and complete exhaustion and you’ve got a mess of a woman who, yes, has brought forth a human being, but feels like she’s been run over by a truck… over & over again.

At least that’s how it is for me. I look like hell. I fully admit to this. I’m not proud of it, but ya know… when you’re a human milk bar and the best you can manage is a shower every few days, and you watch brain cells go down the drain during those showers, it’s a good thing that you’re even awake at dinner. I tend to forget things easily and feel like a clown. My boobs are sore and mushy (not that burlesque type of overinflation you sometimes see with nursing moms), my belly is still swollen and although I’ve lost 20+ lbs, I still feel like a puffer fish. I do not feel sexy. I do not feel pretty. I do not feel beautiful.

March Madness

Ok, I’m so totally not a basketball fan. I have no clue about any of it. But I LOVE March! And not because My Birthday comes in March (hint hint, people – get moving here). Spring comes in March. My daffydills that are my birth flower bloom in March in SOME areas of the country (not mine right now though, dammit). The Earth wakes up from it’s sleep and starts to bloom. It’s just a beautiful time of year. THis year, I turn 40. In 3 more days, I’ll be 40 years old. I have *NO* idea how this happened. Last I knew, I was rollerskating (yes, ROLLERskates, not those godawful inline skates) on the sidewalk with my tape player blasting Michael Jackson and Air Supply. I was sure it was just yesterday or so.Now, how did I get to be 40??? Oh… I know what you’re thinking. She’s finally gone around the bend. But it really does feel like just yesterday. My sister had just been born. She was upstairs, in her playpen (remember those, folks?), and I was listening for her to wake up while I was on the front steps writing down lyrics to something. Well, damn.. now she’s 27. (Happy Belated Birthday, Sis) She’s got 2 kids of her own and they didn’t have playpens cuz somewhere along the way, they were deemed DANGEROUS. I’m digressing (I’ll explain what it means later, heather) So I turn 40 on Monday. I’m looking forward to my 40′s – sort of like I did with my 30s. I dreaded the 30s all while in my 20s. WHen I hit my 30s though, it was like I came into my own skin. I stopped worrying about stupid shit and became who I am. Maybe it coincided with me becoming a mom (at 29 years, 6 months), meeting hubby and really being loved for who I was. Maybe it was finally severing ties to my past. But my 30s were very cool. I brought them in by becoming a mom, and I’m ushering them out doing the same thing. My 40′s look to be interesting as well. They say that a woman reaches her sexual peak at 40. Hubby asked today “Well, how long does it last?”. If it’s anything like my 30s, he’s in trouble 40 used to be so OLD to me. I find it comforting to know, though, that most of my 40 yr old friends are also old enough to be grandmothers any day now (all their oldest kids are hitting 21 this year), and the fact that I’m still a few years from that comforts me GREATLY! *EG* So Happy Birthday to me… I’d hoped to celebrate it the way I TRULY enjoy celebrating, but the birth of my son has ummm… changed those plans somewhat – although I DO hope for at least some intimacy anyways As always, you’ll probably hear all about it.

Whoa…like… seriously – whoa.

You may or may not recall this posting from last year that I wrote after having a rather nice weekend with my ma’an. The ma’an (just say ma’am, but with an n) and I have been together since 1995, when we first met on the internet chat Resort. We met online in March, but in real life in July. I was completely and totally sunk when I met him. I moved to be closer to him 5 months later and that was that.

Except it wasn’t. Although we’d go on to spend the next 11-1/2 years together, we’ve never married. This has been a great source of pain and disappointment me. I have always felt “less than” and although we’ve had dozens of emotional conversations about it, he never gave me any *real* reason as to why he wouldn’t get married. I thought it was because I am a less-than-perfect mate. I am a less-than-perfect parent. I’m not Martha Stewart either. I try to be the best I can be in all areas, and I KNOW it’s not perfect. But it’s me.

15 days

• Just 15 days to go until my newest heir to the throne is brought, screaming, into this world. Hard to believe, eh?

• You Were Nice This Year

  You Were 25% Naughty, 75% Nice Okay, so you weren’t *entirely* nice this year But Santa doesn’t expect a modern girl to be perfect You were good enough – and you’ll be rewarded for it

  How Naughty (Or Nice) Were You This Year?

• Your Celebrity Boob Twin:

  Anna Nicole Smith

  Who’s Your Celebrity Boob Twin?

I’m still hoping to hear from someone about a backup blogging site that allows you to import. C’mon people.

• I hope that Melinda got her heat back this weekend.

• Prince was awesome in the superbowl halftime show. He’s still hot after all these years. I actually stood in line at 5am to get tickets for his show 23 years ago.. and they sold out before I got any.

• I taught a one-on-one eBay class yesterday, despite the fact that it was 10 degrees out, and I’m , ya know, 99 months pregnant. But the lady was very appreciative, so that was nice. She even called to make sure I got home ok.

• My mom & dad are coming up for the baby’s birth

• My friend angel is sending me a paddle that’s even got my name on it. I can’t wait.

• Although it wasn’t a holiday, my mom turned 60 this weekend, and my parents also celebrated their 29th wedding anniversary. I can’t possibly fathom that!

• My 3 yr old has officially joined the ranks of the homeschooled.

• My kids keep coming up with names for the baby.

• While I haven’t been able to be particularly kinky for a while, I still have kinky thoughts, so I consider that to be my reason why I keep my blog named this

• Even though we’re expecting a very nice tax refund, I cannot think of more than 2 things that I want to buy when we get the money One of them is a freezer, the other – a *good* frying pan.

• A really awesome homeschooling site – IknowThat.com

• I quit smoking 16 years ago and according to quitnet.com, I’ve saved $60,000.

• I was really upset by this news story about this woman who was refused medical treatment while being arrested, and she miscarried her baby. Now, while she obviously was probably already losing the baby, having to go through that whole night KNOWING it was happening, would be awfully cruel.

• Some people try to guess my password for my password protected postings. I tell them that’s like trying to hack my blog.

• This other story about this couple who had sextuplets and then refused to allow them to have what could have been life-saving medical treatments that would have saved TWO of the babies – also pisses me off. You want them so bad, you do what you have to, religion or not, to SAVE THEM.

• While I can’t wait for my pregnancy to be finished and the baby to be here, I know I’ll miss being pregnant, at least a little bit.

• I have read every single (fiction) book by Koontz, Patterson, King, & Grafton.

• In hindsite, I wish I hadn’t fought so hard to avoid a c-section with my son, thus putting both our lives in danger.

• After almost 12 years, I can say without a doubt that our relationship is stronger than it’s ever been.

• And the sex ain’t bad either

And in case you’re wondering, I’ve just used every category I have on my blog LOL

sleep is highly overrated

So, I was up at 2am because my beautiful little blonde haired girl wanted to come sleep with me because, as she states “I like you, mommy”. How can one say no to this? I did. I said “hey, let’s go sleep in your room!” and followed her back to her room, snuggled up to her and tried to warm her up because her brother had left the window cracked open. It was -7 degrees out. I’m thinking… we don’t need THAT MUCH fresh air. And the beautiful little blonde haired girl does not wear pj’s – nightgowns – or anythign resembling clothing to bed. She absolutely, resolutely refuses. I’m lucky to get a diaper on her (it’s the ONLY ONE she wears all day, so don’t go there), and she’s always been like that. She likes it cool. I keep the thermostat at 65 at night, and we all seem to sleep better. Except when certain 10 yr olds go to bed WITH THE WINDOW OPEN. So anyways, after she drifted back to sleep, I went back to my bed, where I lay there for an hour, decidedly not sleeping. I finally got up, grabbed my laptop and came downstairs. I grabbed the other half of the sandwich I’d made at 10pm, some doritos … because what is turkey without doritos, and parked my ass on the couch for the next 2-1/2 hours surfing blogs, adding a few little things here and there to mine. Decidedly not sleeping.

Finally at 5:30, I made my way back upstairs, and finally went back to sleep. Until 7:30, when I got up to pee and realized my hubby wasn’ t going to make his thermos of something hot to drink because it’s so fucking cold in his office. So I did that. While doing that, realized how HUNGRY I was.. made a bagel and some cocoa. Hubby left, and I parked my ass on the couch, yet again, and here I am. Twiddling my friggin thumbs.

I do like to check my stats on my blogs, and found that you all are finding me through some truly bizarre ways. LOL

kinky adventures	2
angelbrat	2
whipping slavegirl crop cane	1
being domme	1
positions for sex in 9th month pregnancy	1
kinky

I wonder how many folks get to my blog by using one of these search terms and find themselves completely disappointed. I’m guessing quite a few judging by the absolute lack of commenting going on. Ah well Can’t please everyone, I suppose.

I had a rough day yesterday. It was like I was inexplicably infused with an extra dose of pregnancy hormones yesterday morning. And this wasn’t a good thing. I woke up feeling all sorts of aches & pains in my general baby area, which made me nervous and anxious and other -ous words. My children were rather rambunctious, my mother was on the phone *miserable*, and I didn’t know what to DO with myself. I finally decided to park my ass, and did so, only to find myself crying at a news story about a local(ish) woman who finally died after being in critical condition for 2 weeks following a head-on collision with a DOLT in which her unborn child had been killed that day. This 27 yr old woman was on her way to work, and that was it. Lights out. She leaves behind 2 little boys and a husband, and this just hurt me So much. They’ve set up a fund for them, and I’m going to donate just to assuage my own feelings of sorrow. The DOLT in question had been having back pain (welcome to my world, bitch) and was trying to adjust her seat, while driving – and crossed the center lane and hit this woman’s car head on.

Anyways, the later, when my mother called back to check in and let me know how she made out at her dr., I found myself crying AGAIN, mainly because I HATE TO CRY and didn’t know WHY I was crying. Overall, it should have been a good day, dammit. Hubby got hired permanently at a job he’d been temping at for the last 6 months last week, and yesterday was payday. Ya know, just that in itself should make it a good day (with a $2.50/hr raise, hell yeah!) But Noooooo, I cry. Oh, and did I mention the blog posting I made on my Baby Blog yesterday at 3am, about how long distance relationships SUCK – that had me blah all day too. GAWD, do I hate these hormones!!! Hell, they’re not even getting me laid! The last we had any kind of quiet time (my euphamism for sex) was last week, which ended in the every 2 minute contractions. I think he’s scared now. LOL

Speaking of sex, though – I’m having our babysitter come sit for us next week and hubby & I are gonna go check into a hotel for our final … well, ok, not final, but last for several weeks/possibly months, little tryst. I had been planning this for months, but Ithink I’d forgotten to mention it to him, because last night when I did, he was like “uhhh… but can she (the babysitter) stay late?” We don’t plan on staying overnight- but just having those nice, ALL TO OURSELVES hours will be nice, I think… and I’ve made it plain & clear to him that I EXPECT GOOD SEX, dammit. No pressure, huh?

ok, so this post has made no sense, but hey, it’s an update anyways