Archive | November, 2012

To Date or Not to Date

26 Nov

I’m starting to get used to the idea of being single, in a way that is almost comforting.

After the adjustments in my bedroom, having pushed my bed against the wall, and gotten rid of Baby Daddy’s bedside table and some romantic pictures that hung on the wall, I started to, finally, sleep through the night, in my own bed. This was a huge improvement in the quality of my life, obviously. And I have to admit that Baby’s been letting me sleep for the last week, KNOCK ON WOOD!

What else? I’m getting used to cooking for one, and shopping for one (well two, but one of us only eats formula and mashed zucchini and pumpkin, so doesn’t really count). I stopped buying bread and cow milk and cold cuts, which I don’t consume, and filled the fridge with goat milk, and rice crackers, vegies, and lots of dark chocolate.

It feels like I’m at the very beginning of creating a routine for myself. At the very beginning of things actually falling into place. This is a comforting notion, and I’m waiting for everything to feel more stable. But in order for that to happen, I know that I need to move on, and to move on means that I have to see other people. Even if I’m not ready for it. I need to feel that I’m moving on.

But I’m not, really. Because my closet is still full of his clothes, and the night table I said earlier that I’d gotten rid of, is really just waiting in my office, like it’s on a “time out”. And deep inside I’m waiting and hoping that Baby Daddy will come around, admit that this was all a huge stupid mistake, or even better, maybe I’ll just wake up and realize that all of this was a ridiculous dream. I’ll tell him all about it and he’ll just laugh at how insecure I am.

There’s a guy my girlfriend wants to set me up with. Something completely casual. I think I’ve mentioned earlier that I’ve never actually done “casual” before. My instinct was to reject even the notion of it. But deep inside, in that same place that is still hopeful that Baby Daddy will come back into my life, I also know that some physical warmth will be good for me now, healthy. Like charging your phone when the battery’s about to die.

Seriously, my battery needs charging.

Gross and Sweaty, but Satisfied

24 Nov

Kickboxing is good for your soul. Letting out aggression, filling your body with endorphins.

This morning Baby was at my in laws and I went to work out. It was a tough class, and I was sweaty and wheezing by the middle of it, but I kept on going. Loud music was blasting as we punched and kicked, and the instructor kept saying, Hold on! We’re not done yet! So we just kept on going and going.

Some parts were difficult, I wanted to stop, but I didn’t, and I thought: This is my life. Sometimes all I want is to stop, but I can’t. I can’t stop, and I know that I can make it to the end. Just like the end of a training session, when you’re all gross and sweaty, but satisfied. And I realized that that’s what things will be like when all this is all over, I’ll be gross and sweaty, but satisfied.

By the way, I finally found a ringtone. For a while I thought it was going to be Tubthumping – I get knocked down, but I get up again. But I realized, it’s not just about getting back up, it’s about having the power to keep on keeping on. And I realized… I GOT THE POWER!

My New Sushi-With-Friends Table

23 Nov

After a week of sleeping on the floor in Baby’s room, I decided the apartment needs an urgent change. It’s still very much OUR apartment; there are pictures of Baby Daddy everywhere, clothes and books, and other stuff that stands as a big fat reminder of how lonely I feel.

 So, on Wednesday my friends came over to help with a bit of DIY around the house. I was in charge of booze and sushi, they were in charge of painting, arranging, and making me feel good about myself, about the breakup and about life in general.

I took Baby to my parents and drove back home, with take out and tools, and met the girls outside my building. G had brought a retro-looking coffee table she’d found, that would make a cool project and replace the one I have and loathe. By the time we all made it upstairs, it was 20:30, and we were hungry and excited to start working, standing outside the door to the apartment, as I fumbled in my bag for the keys. And fumbled. And…

YES, you guessed right. I had forgotten my keys at my parents’ house. OH MAN.

My friends are awesome. They didn’t even roll their eyes. We went back outside and had a sushi picnic, on a bench, using the very table G had brought along, drinking cava straight out of the bottle while we waited for my mom, who dropped everything she had been doing to drive over and give me her spare key.

Thirty minutes later, and we were all stuffed and ready to roll, I’d gotten the keys, and minutes later we were already painting my bed, a couple of side tables, and G’s coffee table,  taking funny pictures of each other with our phones, laughing our heads off for no apparent reason, and Y suddenly said: You know, this coffee table that we’re painting – the last thing that was on it, before this coat of paint now, was sushi, eaten outside on a bench, with friends. This paint is sealing that memory in for you.

I don’t have a new freshly painted turquoise coffee table in my living room. I have a a new sushi-with-friends table. And that’s just SO much cooler, isn’t it?

So I’m not saying everything’s better now. Many things are still very much screwed up. But not everything is screwed up. Some things are just fine. More than fine.

CTRL-ALT-DEL

20 Nov

Wanted: A hot guy who likes slightly overly curvy single moms, sensitive, happy and good in bed, ready to infect me with his happiness for one night only. Any takers?

I had a long talk with a friend tonight about body image. I remember a time when I was in high school and hated my body with every fiber of my being. I thought I was fat, ugly, I hated my smile, I used to cover my face with my hand to hide it and smile with my mouth closed because my teeth aren’t perfect. And I was so young, and so beautiful, I can’t believe I didn’t appreciate it, forget appreciate – I can’t believe I didn’t CELEBRATE it.

So my friend thinks I shouldn’t repeat the same mistake again, and let this precious time, my youthful 30’s go to waste without celebrating my lushness and abundance.

The only thing is, I have to let go of all my inhibitions first. I have to know that I am beautiful, that I deserve to be happy, that I am worthy of warmth and tenderness. I have to stop being such a bitch to myself, putting myself down and slapping myself around (We have a bit of an abusive relationship, myself and I).

I have another friend, who claims that a step towards getting what you want in life is being able to express it, to say what you want – to “summon” it. So this is me summoning wamrth, summoning closeness, summoning a big CTRL-ALT-DEL to all my inhibitions, followed by a new beginning.

No sex for you.

19 Nov

I’m sitting on the sofa, and Baby is playing in his playschool at my feet. There is a red rattling guitar hanging from it and he grabs it with both hands and stuffs it so intently into his little mouth that I keep worrying he might choke. But those are my fears, not his, I have to remind myself. He is fearless. It’s me who manages somehow to take his keenness, his enthusiasm, and read fear into it. I think I need to be more like him.

I want to eat this world up like some rattling red guitar, I want to gobble it up and not be worried about choking.

But how does one go about finding a guitar these days? I’ve been with only two guitars in my life, and with the latter for the last 13 years. So I’m a little rusty. And I’m also not really ready to be out there. Oh I know, I’ll make a pro and con list. That always works.

Having Meaningless Sex with a Random Stranger

Pros: Will help with horniness; relieve tension; may help me feel attractive; and most important – beat Baby Daddy to it.  Not that it’s a race, but the polite thing to do, after leaving me alone with a baby is to at least let me get some first.

Cons (this is going to be depressing)Still carrying 8 extra kilos from the pregnancy and feeling like a giant walrus, not that hot; seriously CANNOT face rejection right now, and that’s a risk; I’m not sure I know how to have meaningless sex, never done it before; to have meaningless sex I need to find a not-too-sleazy guy that I am actually attracted to, get very drunk, have a good enough sitter prepped so that I’m not constantly worried about Baby, and go to some random guy’s place which sounds dangerous and not really my thing.

Conclusion: NO SEX FOR YOU.

War, What Is It Good For?

17 Nov

A siren wailed and I ran to Baby’s room, picked him up and fled barefoot into the stairwell of my 70-year-old falling apart building. There’s no way in hell I’m going into the shelter in the bulding’s disgusting basement, with the rats and roaches. I might as well get hit by a missle. Well, I used to think that way, but now I have a baby in my arms. I have to keep it together for him.

War sucks bigtime. Plus, it’s killing all of my plans. I’m supposed to renovate next week. I’m doing this whole independent-woman thing now, and sirens sending me running to mom and dad’s place up north – that’s just not working for me.

Last time we Skyped with Baby Daddy he was talking about how sorry he was for being away in the States for work, how he’d like to he here with us during this time of political turmoil. All I could think about was – who are you kidding? You left us. You don’t want to be with us. Why say stuff you don’t actually stand behind?

I’m trying to be brave. I know I’m a lot stronger than I tend to give myself credit for. I left my parents house, and came back home. I gave Baby a long hot bath and told him a story and sang songs to him. I blew Baby Daddy off when he wanted to Skype because I knew that would be hard and I need to keep things as simple and easy as possible for myself right now. But then I brushed my teeth, and went into my room that used to be our room, and got into my bed that used to be our bed – for thirteen years. And I knew that at least for tonight, and maybe for the next few days, or weeks, I’m bunking on the mattress we keep for guests in Baby’s room.

I just really need to be close to someone who loves me right now.

Baby’s First Cold

10 Nov

It’s just a cold. My friends say I don’t even need to see a doctor for it. Little guy’s been sneezy for several days, and yesterday finally came down with a cold. Stuffy red nose, teary eyes, and very cranky and miserable.

I’m doing everything I’m supposed to do to make him feel better, but it’s just not enough. (Wow, there’s a returning motif huh?) I can’t bare it when he makes these miserable little wimpering noises, it just breaks my heart. I’m a terrible mother for having let this happen to him. I should have been more careful. I should have known better. I should have noticed that it was getting colder. I probably didn’t dress him warm enough. Or maybe I let him stay too long in the bath. And I left  the window a crack open becuase I thought fresh air would do him good…

Why is it that ever since I’ve become a mother I feel guilty just about all the time? It’s just a cold. He’s going to het over it. I know that. But when he cries, I cry, and it’s not just about the cold.