Skinna-Ma-Rinky-Dinky-Dink

Dear Carter

You're almost 6 months old now!  That's half a year!  Already!
It flew by.  Somehow, together we got through it all: the first time I ever changed a diaper to being up all night to the time I fell down the stairs with you in my arms (you were fine, but it scared the shit out of you.)

I never wanted to have a baby.  But don't let that make you sad, because you're here now and without you I wouldn't be myself at all.  You really made me get to know myself a lot more.  I don't even know who that person was that didn't want to have a baby... And you made me realize that if I can keep a baby alive and happy, I can do anything in the world.  And you're such a happy guy.  Yesterday, our doctor said you're the happiest baby he knows and he isn't the first person to say that.  It must have been all the anti-depressants I was taking while you were in my uterus.  Just Kiddin!

You're teething a lot lately.  And you wake up crying a lot during the night.  And at some point I usually pick you up and bring you to bed beside me and cuddle you back to sleep.  I can't believe the supreme super powers I possess - I can make you all better just by holding you and kissing you.  Nobody else can do that like I can.  I've never been more proud of anything in all my life.  So thanks, bug.  You do just as much for me as I do for you.

Now that you're getting a little bigger we can start having a little more fun.  We can take walks down the beach, visit the zoo, play in the snow, you're going to love it.  This weekend we're going to Granny and Grandpa's trailer so you can go trick-or-treating.  You're going to be a lion, and you're going to get mommy all kinds of candy!!  You're so thoughtful.

I just want you to know that we will always have good days and bad days, but deep down inside I will always be happy because I gave life to this little person who just loves it so much already.  I already know that you're going to be a risk-taker.  You're going to wear your heart on your sleeve and you're going to be a talker.  It's strange all the things you can get to know about a person before they even know it themselves.

I love you, Mowgli.
Now finish your nap and I will see you in about 2 hours.

Love, Mum.

back to school!

I was thinking about school today, and how never having to go back is probably my favourite thing about being grown up.  I use the term "grown up" loosely.
So much to hate about school.  So so much.  Didn't everybody hate it?
Some kids in school were just perfect.  They were beautiful and you never knew how they got such a fantastic wardrobe.  They never wore running shoes and they made you feel small and pathetic.  I wore running shoes every day.  And until I got my own job, chances are they were my mom's old running shoes.  I wore those Filas for, like, 3 years.  Thanks, Ma.
All those fucking perfect idiots in school always had so many friends, didn't they?  That was another thing. Never had many friends.  I was such a misanthropist.  I always have been.  Still am.  The social hierarchy of high school was so damaging to me, I still have a hard time looking blondes in the eye.  Those scary bitches control the world.
Stupid teachers.  So many stupid, dumb-as-fuck teachers.  Don't get me wrong, there were some great teachers.  A few of them I even keep in touch with over facebook.  But most of the teachers in this world just have no business being teachers...
With all of the things there were to hate about school, the biggest thing, the worst thing, what I hated more than anything, was pairing up.  Remember pairing up?  Getting into groups?  Working on shit together? Shit that would be about 83x easier if you could just do it by your fucking self?
How I hated pairing up.  Oh, how I hated getting into groups.  This almost always seemed to happen when I was having a terrible day.  I don't know, my boyfriend would find out I kissed another guy or someone would dump fucking tomato juice on me or something and then I'd have to work on some arbitrary, ridiculous, stupidly easy worksheet with them.  Conjugating verbs, which incidentally, 98% of high school students just can't comprehend.
Pairing up was so awful.  There were only a few options in terms of roles that you could take on during a group activity.
You could be the person who takes on the leadership role and winds up doing the entire thing her/his self
You could be the person who does absolutely nothing and just sits there saying "why can't we just do this ourselves, I hate this shit... wha wha wha" (this person usually has home-made tattoos that they gave themselves in the back of the classroom with a safety pink and a bic pen)
Or you could be the idiot who tries to help but whose every idea is just stupid. (and then the first person listed would have to find a way to let you down gently without actually saying what everyone is thinking: that this fucker is stupid)
Or, finally, you could be the person who just jokes around, wastes time and gets everyone playing MASH.  Remember MASH?
So, to all of the brave soldiers who are carrying the torch through these painful and awkward years, good for you.  Keep on truckin'.  It may be tempting at times to just drop out, LORD KNOWS!  But you can't.  This bullshit will only make you stronger.

Happy back-to-school, suckers!!!

A $250 Mental Breakdown.

So.
Did I ever tell you about the time I got a blackberry?
Well it was last weekend.
And it lasted less than 20 hours.

See, I had lost my cell phone after getting shmammered and running around town like an idiot.  So it goes. The next day, I had to go find a new cell phone.  Mike and I get to the stand in the middle of the mall where you get cell phones and this guy, Tyler, helps us.  I see the lovely Blackberry just sitting there, beckoning me.  The Blackberry is a stylish phone.  More stylish than an iphone, although I'm not sure why I think so.  Plus, I hate touch screens.  What's wrong with buttons, I ask you?  Why are they becoming obsolete?  I will not conform, dammit.  I like buttons.  Like a kid likes to push the buttons in an elevator, I just never got over that phase I suppose.
Now, as I was saying.  Tyler did not have to do much convincing to get me to shell out $250 for this new, pretty, fancy gadget that I need less than anyone I know, considering I stay home all day with a baby and have like, 4 friends in the world.  But whatever!  I got the stinkin' thing.
It was great!  I immediately took the baby's picture and made it my screen image.  I got on facebook and shit.  But then I started wondering what I was going to be charged for... And I got scared.
But I went ahead and started trying to download applications anyway.

Never figured it out.  Spent hours at it.  Hours!  Finally, by ten o'clock that evening I had snapped.
ENOUGH!  I yelled (Maybe not so melodramatic), This fucker has got to go.
I was shaking, the way I do when I get frustrated with something I can't understand.  I almost threw it against the wall, I was so pissed.  Why does everyone else know how to work the stupid blackberry but I can't even manage to set up my e-mail on the thing?!
Now, I feel obligated to point out that my father is the same way when it comes to shit he doesn't understand.  He'll throw a total kinipshin and my mother will come running over to do whatever-it-is for him.  And he can just take it easy and wait for his blood pressure to go down.
I'm not that lucky.  My mother would tell me to piss off.  She only serves my father in this servent-like manner (because honestly, he would be completely lost without her).  Mike had no idea how to make this thing work like it does on commercials so the next day we went back.
Tyler was there again.  It was a little embarrassing to take the blackberry back again, but at least I got lots of money back (which would later be spent on groceries..... sigh)
I settled into getting a phone that I could understand.  Just a basic phone, the only special thing about it is the slide-out keyboard (and that's not even special anymore, is it?)  But we understand each other.  I have inner peace again.  No thanks to you, Blackberry...

anxiety!!!

So.
Maybe I will only ever write posts every third day, since this is the recent pattern, anyway.
Again, this is just the way it happens when you're busy with a baby all day, every day.
Speaking of baby, tomorrow will be my first time ever leaving him for the night.  It will be a long and anxiety-filled 20-something hours without my wee porkchop.  If I think too much about it I start to cry.  Tomorrow I will be a mess.
But, when there's a wedding, you must go.
Thing is, I don't trust anybody with him the way I trust myself with him.  Nobody could ever possibly do it properly because they aren't his mommy. Not to toot my own horn but, he's a big fan of his mommy.  I cuddle just right.
So today I have a couple of things to do before we leave super early tomorrow morning.
I have to wash the sheets
I have to leave some notes for Sherry
I have to make the booboo some cereal and leave it in the fridge
I have to tidy the house up
I have to spend the entire day soaking up baby lovin's.
I have to pack.

I don't want to leave him.  I don't want to leave him.  Oh my God, I do not want to leave him.
There it is.  I started crying.
I can't help but imagine the worst!  Bad shit could happen!  We could get in a car crash!  He could have a miserable time and miss us terribly!  Somebody might drop him!  Or shake him!  Or lose him at a grocery store!  Or leave him on a bus!  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!


I am over-reacting.
But we will be a really long drive away and if anything bad happens I won't be able to rush over to the rescue.  And no matter how hard I try, I just can't shake the feeling that I shouldn't go.  But I am.
Please take good care of my baby while I'm gone :(

mowgli...

So I became a mom one day.
Still not sure when it happened, or how.
But I know that I became one because of the shift in thinking.
I don't think all parents get it, either.  There are a lot of shitty parents.
I think the act of over-thinking it, and the desire to be better every single day, that is what will make us better.

So here we are.  Me and Carter.
We are sitting on this ugly couch in my parents' basement together.  He is refusing to nap.  Rubbing his eyes like crazy.  I was just sitting here in the dark, staring at him.  I was just worrying about the future for him.  Wondering how I'm going to fix all of his problems and make sure nobody ever hurts him.  I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I feel like I have to save him from all of the people.  People are the worst.
Maybe... if he just knows how much I love him he will always be happy - because how could you have any problems when your mother loves you this much?
Of course that's bullshit.

But I just keep thinking that maybe I can love away all of his problems.  I can love him so much that it will lift him up to a higher plane and a superior state of being and he won't have to worry about all those other people hurting him, because he will always know how powerful love can be.
And when you understand how powerful love can be, you stop wasting your time with everybody else and their craziness.

My heart breaks a little bit every time I look at him.  Every time I touch him I feel like I've reached that sacred moment that your entire life leads up to.  I feel like every step I've ever taken was only for him.  I wish I were wiser for him, and I always wonder how I am going to make him strong and gentle, and sweet and smart, and funny and confident.  I am going to make him an absolutely incredible person.  What a privilege we are given when we give life to another person.  What a beautiful fucking responsibility.

I think about dying.  And if it were to happen today, I wonder if Carter would ever know how much I love him at this exact moment, as I stare at him falling asleep, crying all over my keyboard.  If I leave this world, will I be satisfied that I had done everything I could to show him how much I care?  If I'm gone, will anyone ever love him like this again?
He needs to know.


He needs to know that I wanted him.  I kept him.  I carried him inside me for 9 months and I brought him into the world.  I love him more than anybody and I know it.  And if I were gone, he wouldn't ever remember that I once sat beside him as he fell asleep, crying on my keyboard while trying to sort out all of my thoughts, my hopes and dreams - for him.
He needs to know.

I really want my love to save him.  From hurt, heartbreak, loneliness and pain.  I will spend the rest of my life trying.  And if I fail at protecting him from all of life's inevitable disappointments, at least I will always break his fall.  I'll always love him this much.  All I have to do is make sure he knows it.
Even if I am gone one day.  He needs to know it would never be by choice.  I would stay in this moment for all of eternity if I could.  Just watching him sleep in the dark.
He needs to know...

sigh.

me time

I've been really trying to get some time to myself lately.  And Mike has been great about it!  He's been letting me sleep in and he doesn't mind when I read or sit in front of my laptop.  He's wonderful.  The baby hasn't been quite so understanding.  But I try anyway.
Yesterday, in an effort to enjoy some me time, Mike and Carter went to Mike's mom's for dinner and a visit.  I would have gone, but I am desperate for some solitude.  Everyone said I would miss being bored by myself.  But I didn't listen.  Silly me.
So they were gone.  I felt great.  I sat on Tumblr for about an hour.  I watched So You Think You Can Dance, I read a little bit of vogue.  And I got hungry.  So I made macaroni and cheese.  And ate that.  And then I ate one of those delicious German chocolate bars they sell at Lococo's.  Then I remembered the creme brulee in the fridge.  And so I went to make that.
I don't have a torch, so I used to oven to burn the sugar on the top.  It was taking forever and I kept opening the oven to check it out.  God knows where our oven mits went.  I think they were grungey and I may have just thrown them out without first replacing them.  Stupid.
Anyway, taking the beautiful creme brulee out of the oven I burnt the shit out of my finger.  The smoke alarm went off!  Like Jesus!  A layer of skin had curled up and turned the colour of burnt porkchops... There would be no blistering.  We had gone past blistering.  It fucking hurt.

But I ate the creme brulee and it was worth the burn.  It was.
But I am not going near that oven without oven mits ever again.

I spent the rest of my alone time dressing my wound and feeling sorry for myself.

Putting one's foot in one's mouth

I was going to take photos of my basement gutting experience, but I am missing a critical USB cable. And I'm missing another one for my ipod. It's upsetting. But anyway.

I learned a very valuable lesson yesterday that, I think, most people learn by the time they turn 12 years old. I learned that it is not always nice to say what you're thinking. Sometimes you should think before acting. Sometimes you should cool down before doing anything.

No deets, but yesterday was a truly abysmal disaster. It felt really good to clean out the kitchen and the living room (bedroom tomorrow - EEP!) and now the mood of the place seems a little more lifted than yesterday's. In my own way, I have tried to make everything better.

So. 3 boxes full of donation items. 1 big bag of food bank items. 3 garbage bags full of, well, garbage and 2 bags full of carter's old clothes gone. It feels really good. Kind of like a fresh start. But I am still not in the best mood ever, so I think it best to just stay off the laptop for today and focus on damage control and calming down. Just wanted to check in.