Hi Dad.

The ability to feel nothing is something that some people would wish for. Those people who cry at Hallmark commercials (wait, do they make them anymore?), okay cry at Extreme Home Makeover, I'm sure they wish some days that they could just shut it off, feel nothing. For those of us that have that ability, it's not so treasured. 

I haven't talked to my dad since my birthday last year, on January 20th. I was talking to him about my little brother, who was considering dropping out of high school, and whom he was encouraging to do so. He didn't know it was my birthday. I didn't tell him. I told him not to make the mistake for my brother, to be an adult, the usual things I find myself saying to him. We haven't spoke since. In that time, he has 'relapsed' on his heroine addiction, which I don't think you can really call a relapse when it's either a. 15 years after you 'kicked it' or b. that you never really kicked it, and instead have just went full force into it instead of trying to hide it. The latter is of course, as all of my sister's, my brother, and I know, what is true. He most recently 'tried detoxing' in my ex step-mom's basement (who he left two years ago for a 25 year old he now has 2 kids with)- where one of my sister's, we'll call her Bean, still lives. She told me this. She is 17. 

I haven't been a very good sister to her over the years. I left my hometown at 18 to go to college, and basically never looked back. But, I love her immensely, and would do anything she ever needed in a second. She wants to come out here to spend some time with me, my husband, and the baby. I wish I could pay for her to come, but I don't work, and we just don't have it. She won't ask her mom (my ex step mom) because she hasn't gotten paid in a while since she works for the state and there's something with the state budget that she hasn't gotten paid in a while. She won't ask my dad because she knows how unstable he is, and like all of us, has been instilled with a deep sense of guilt and responsibility when it comes to him. I have let go of this responsibility. The guilt, hm. But the responsibility, definitely.

So tonight, I called my dad who is currently avoiding treatment for his addiction out of the blue, and told him he needs to do whatever he needs to do to pay for her to come here. He said of course he would, she didn't ask. I said great, then do it. Let me know the dates. I don't care when, but make it soon. 

He asked how my son, his grandson, who he has seen once, and asked about twice was doing. I told him great. He's getting big. He said he sees pictures on facebook. He asked about my husband, who he used to be pretty close to. I told him he was great, traveling right now for work. He asked how I liked staying home, I told him it was great, no I don't get bored I have lots of things to do. I told him I'm going back for my master's, and then PhD to eventually open my own school for kids in the foster care system. He said great. I told him one more time to get the tickets, and I'd talk to him later. Then I hung up. 

I don't feel anything, but know that somewhere inside it's all there. I don't know where though, and the truth is I am scared to find it. So here I sit, wondering how I'm going to stop it all from coming up. It's in my throat, the tight ball of everything I don't want to think about. 

So that's what it's like, for those of us who have the ability to shut down, to feel nothing. We sit around from time to time with painful lumps in our throats that we can't make go away. Eventually we swallow them, and move on. But then they just sit deep in our stomach. 

For Tara..On being strong...

His shirt says, 'Someone call a vet, because THESE PUPPIES ARE SICK! With a kid holding up his muscles. It's because he looks like he has muscles because his little arms are so big! I dedicate this shirt to you, as well as the less than enthusiastic look on his face about eating (peas...) It was an epic battle..the battle of the peas...but I won, he ate them, and now he eats them all on his own- loves them! You have many battles too, but are kicking ass as well, even if you have a worse attitude about it than Miles did on this day... ;)

Laughing With-Regina Spektor

I just heard this song, and it couldn't be more true. It's funny, because last night I stumbled on a blog of a woman who has a three year old daughter with a brain tumor. It is essentially terminal, there is pretty much no way she will recover. But, the mother just asked that as many people as possible to pray for her. I saw this little girl and thought, what if it were Miles? I know there are kids dying all over the world everyday, but for some reason this one got me. Three years old, and just like that- her eye looks a little funny, take her to the doctor, the worst kind of inoperable brain tumor.  I prayed for her, and I haven't prayed in a very long time.

It made me stop and think once again about the things we take for granted. We all take our children for granted, their health for granted on some level. It's human, but it doesn't mean we shouldn't slow down every once and a while and thank God that we have healthy children who we don't have to hold down for painful procedures, or wonder how much longer we will have them here to snuggle in bed, or smell their heads after a bath. 

I can't think of all this and not think of how I take my own health for granted. Not only do I take it for granted, but I abuse it. My son's godfather has a brother who is 29 years old, with two year old twin girls. He has, at this point, at most a week to live after fighting colon cancer for the last two years. His little girls will not remember their daddy. His wife is experiencing a pain that I hope I will never know. If given the chance, would he abuse his body the way I do?  Obviously we all know the answer to that. 

Maybe we all need to slow down, look at our children as the gifts they are, and eventually at ourselves for the gifts that we are to them. They don't know what we do to ourselves, and I pray they will never have to live with the consequences. All they know is they love their mommy, and she's always there. I want to do everything in my power to keep it that way. 

http://www.marynshope.org/index-2.html

"I'll be the one in the mumu"

He's saying: "Mommy, get over yourself and take me swimming!!"

There was a time when I was a very social person. I never passed up a chance at a party. There were times I probably should have..but yes that's for another day...

Ever since I had Miles and stopped working, I've become like a hermit. There really is no nicer way to put it, I am a hermit. I blamed it on the neighborhood we lived in when I first had him. We moved there a few weeks before I found out I was pregnant. The realtor called it 'west Ukrainian Village', which is a pretty cool neighborhood in the city. In truth, it was more accurately Humboldt Park. Let's just say it got a little 'gangy' by the time you got to our stop on the bus... The only other people in the neighborhood were polish, and spoke only polish, and did not like people who were not polish on their block. So...I had the baby two months early, spent a month living in what I call 'the hole'- the NICU, brought him home, and held up for the winter in our third floor apartment. By the time April started showing signs of a thawing, we moved. 

Our new neighborhood (not so new now..) is absolutely perfect. Apparently, if you have a baby or are thinking of having a baby in the city of Chicago you live in Lincoln Square. We're two blocks from an awesome park, the train, everything. There are great schools in every direction and EVEN a great PUBLIC school- there's an idea! Anyway, the streets are crawling (no pun intended..) daily with mom's pushing strollers. Yet somehow, I have met no one. I've joined three 'playgroups' on meetup.com that have something going on almost every day of the week. I got kicked out of one for not attending anything in a month (bitches, whatever.) I drug myself to a 'snack and stroll' with another one where no one (that's right- NO ONE) showed up. I felt like I was being stood up by the cool girls in middle school...again... So I recently dropped that one and committed to the one that seems to have nice people. We have a playdate tomorrow at a local park- I'm sorry, a local pool. 

I RSVP'd yes, and am starting to chicken out already. I cannot bare getting in the water with a bunch of other new mom's who all look like they adopted, since they're smaller than I was before I gained 70 lbs during my pregnancy. I am trying to tell myself over and over that 1. Miles LOVES to swim, and it's not his problem if I'm fat. and 2. No one will care if I'm fat, and if they do I don't want to be friends with them anyway. But...alas...I can't help it. Not even my obscenely overpriced one piece, black suit from Bloomingdales can help me now. Since it isn't a pants suit. God I would look terrible in a pants suit. Correction, no one should wear a pants suit. Anyway- I need to go to meet other mothers who are staying home with their kids and not losing their mind. I need to do something for Miles other than dragging him around with just me all day running endless errands to keep myself busy. There are not many things I know for sure in this world, or believe I am good at. But, so far, I am a damn good mom. He deserves the best of everything, and that means interacting with other babies (yes I know they just stare at each other and try to grab his face since he's the only almost ten month old not crawling..) but still, he loves it. 

I need to go tomorrow, for myself, and for my little boy. I'm going to send myself good thoughts, and just show up. What's the worst that can happen? I get there, take my clothes off to get in the water, and all the other mothers coil away in disgust, won't let their children near Miles because his mom's a monster? Maybe. I guess it'll beat sitting home or taking endless walks in silence all day... 

Worst Wife Ever

I hate to be mellow dramatic, but seriously, I think I might be the worst wife ever. Or in my mom's words 'I feel like I failed miserably as a mother, you're a terrible house wife'.. Maybe it's because I never planned on, or was interested in being a 'house wife'. I don't know how this happened. 

I was going to be independent forever. I didn't need a man, didn't want a man, could have cared less about ever being married or having kids. While other little girls sat around and dreamed about their weddings and their kids names, I dreamed about the cities I would live in, and what kind of job I would have. Then I met my husband.

My husband, 'J', is the greatest man I will ever know. He is kind, loving, hilarious, hard working, honest, and any other wonderful adjective you could possibly think of. He is patient with me, he loves me for who I am (and who I am not). From the moment I met him he has been my best friend, and I am overwhelmed with my love for him and our beautiful life together. 

Apparently, not overwhelmed enough to iron his shirts for work.

Back to the 'I never wanted to stay home'. When I found out I was pregnant so many things went through my mind (more on that later). But one of the first things we talked about was how we were going to pay for daycare, where we were going to send the baby, all of that. We live in downtown Chicago, and at the time I was working as a foster care case manager for DCFS, making not a lot of money at all. Unfortunately, when we looked into daycare or a nanny, we very quickly realized (I was only three months pregnant) that I would be paying the same amount that I made every week to send him (or her since at the time he was still looking like a jellybean) to daycare.  It was decided that I would stay home. 

I was fine with this decision, until I realized that I'm not very good at this whole thing. To put it simply, I was not nurtured as a child, and do not have it in me to nurture others. This of course, does not include my son, who I adore beyond words and nurture to the point of near smothering...but towards my husband, I've just never been very 'I'll take care of you honey'. I had a very messed up view of father's, husband's, just men's roles in general as a kid, and have a hard time adjusting to such a 'normal' family life. I love him, but I can't seem to find the want to cook dinner for him (I don't cook, he does), do the laundry, clean the house, iron his shirts, just the basics that someone who stays home all day while their husband works should be doing. It's not that I'm lazy, not at all. It's not that I don't know how, there is just some block within me that makes me say 'why should I have to do this?' Well...you should have to do this because you don't get up, get dressed, and go work all day...you can spend hours at the park if you choose, or go to the beach with your son- this is why you should maybe at least think about what you want your husband to cook you for dinner when he comes home. 

J just left for a business trip for the next three days...I helped him get nothing ready, and let him get up with the baby this morning so I could sleep in an extra hour. In summary, I am a terrible wife. But, I love my husband, and will try to do better.

First Post Ever (for real)

This is my blog. I just want the chance to write, to be honest, and to get it all out whenever and however I please... I don't know what I'll write about, I guess whatever I feel like writing about. I'm confused these days, how to live a life of balance and trust that all that has been given to me will not disappear in a moment. I'm trying to breathe, to live, and to just be. Unfortunately, I'm a complete spaz, have some major things to overcome, and am a little on the stubborn side- but I suppose we'll just see how it goes...