Sparkling laughs

Back and forth like a kite in the wind.

2006-06-01T12:02:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I said something chipper in my last entry. I try and keep a smile on, even when things are so spiralling around me like a vortex of crazy on a field of confusion.

I don't want to be with him.

And yet... he's giving me all this attention that I crave so badly. I hate it that he does this to me. Am I just property to be tossed and pulled around?

I won't go back to him, don't mis-understand me.

But I love him. He's driving me to the end of myself. Are all break ups so impossible? Do they ever work? I thought breaking up with a man would be easy. Just say, "I"m sorry, we're over."

But that has never worked.

I handed husband back his ring more times than I can count. I left it with him. Then he sent out wedding invitations.

Confused? me too.

I wonder if it's just something about me. If I'm just too weak, or too stupid, or not mean enough. I do hate being mean.

But... fifteen e-mail addresses, calling every single day...

I spoke to him on the phone twice, by accident. I was sleeping, I knew my mom was going to call, I just answered without thinking twice. And it's not mom. And I'm sleepy and off guard. So I end up having half a conversation.

It makes me tired.

But the bronchitus is getting better. Sheesh. I can hardly keep up with these entries. Did I mention the bronchitus?

Both the kids had it. Titus was deathly ill for about a week. They said if he went one more hour without drinking something to bring him in and put him on an iv 'cause he was SOOO dehydrated.

He drank a bottle that hour just for fun. I swear both of them like to be on the very very verge of hospitalization. Do they think I won't care for them unless they are on the brink of death? I had to put him on a breathing machine thing five times a day.

Nothing compared to when Penny got sick.

She got bronchitus, which started to turn into pnumonia. Hence the very tired mommy and the total lack of posting. I do think about writing a bunch though.

So just as Titus pulled out into the clear... dum da da DUM!!! Penny is knocked down flat. She needed the air machine thing every hour. Or she'd start wheezing and coughing until she either threw up or turned blue. I lost count of how many times her face turned colors. I couldnt' sleep. I fell asleep for an hour from complete exhaustion and woke up to find purple lips and blue hands. I picked her up and smacked her back and took her in, again. We lived at the pediatricians office that week. She got an ear infection too.... it was beyond ridiculas.

She just stayed sick. They gave her tons of drugs, and she just stayed sick. They chided me for giving her the breathing machine so often. Until they saw her. Then they said, "technically she can have two in a row..."

She scored a 91 on oxygen. That's one point above hospitalization. One point. I wasn't kidding when I said they like to tease me by being on the brink of death.

I don't know what to do with these kids. They exhaust me. No wonder I accidentally answered the phone twice. Particularly 'cause he's been calling once a day, and then that one day he called four times.

Now his e-mails are all about how our relationship is renewing, how it's strengthening now that the lines of communication are opened again.

*sighs*

I am so tired of all this. He wants to see the kids. I don't want to see him. I don't want my heart to hurt more. I dont' want to be lured in by his attention, by his caresses, by his sweet talk. He's not a nice man. He keeps saying that that other woman and that baby are my fault. That I deserved such punishment as that. That I now know what it feels like to be him. *sighs* Such harsh things to say. And so full of lies.

He says he is willing to accept me back. Even though I have hurt him so badly. He even gave up the other woman and the kid for me. That he deserves a chance with me. That now is the perfect time.

It's lies. It sounds sweet, some of it. But it is lies. I am not taking him back, not the other way around. Of course he'd take me back, I'm wonderous!! She left him, not the other way around, so that's just plain silly... Now is the perfect time? Who are we kidding? I barely have a job....

Which by the way... I love my new seamstress job. It's the perfect work for me. the ONLY flaw is that I'm only making 50 a week so far. I need 300 a week in order to move out. Not that I know if I'm going to do that for sure or whatever. But I like to be prepared. And hey, I'm a mathematician, so I've run the numbers....

2006-06-01T11:51:00.000-07:00

The rat.

2006-05-20T14:09:00.000-07:00

Fading.

2006-05-18T23:27:00.000-07:00

I haven't written in here lately.

MANY things have been happening. I'm just all shooken up.

First off, I lost my job. Actually, my mom refused to babysit for me anymore.

This set in motion a series of events. I had to quit my job.

I got a new job as a seamstress apprentice.

Z professed his undying love to me and proclaims that we are in a committed relationship. I tell him he's full of shit.

Somehow I miraculasly read his girlfriends diary.

This informs me of so many things. He's totally playing mind games with me.

So I tell him he can never come back and see the kids.

Never.

He starts stalking me. Ten different e-mail addresses, three phone calls a day. It's exhausting my mind. SHE calls me. His girlfriend. Asking me why I would do this, why won't I let him see the kids? Blah blah blah.

We talk. I become this super human being. I calmly tell her to leave him too. That he's insane.

He starts cutting himself again.

She leaves him.

He starts getting more uncontrolled. More out of control. He's calling me hysterical. Weeping, screaming. I don't answer. I don't know what to do. I'm so freaking out.

He starts saying he's going to wait at my doorstep until I open the door. Fucking everything. I'm totally lost.

My mind and heart ache. I'm doing the right thing. But it's like driving nails through my skull.

So then, I make my other diary private. Somehow he hacks in and writes more comments. I get his other diaries taken away. I kid you not. I got them taken away.

He goes ballistic.

I break down. It's been two weeks of my silence to him. I break down and write him.

He writes me back twice. Now he's deadly silent.

You don't understand. It's torture to me. The bombardment of my heart and mind and soul, the complete invasion of privacy. The constant uncontrolled fear that he might show up on my doorstep as a mad man. The knowledge that I'm distressing him enough to cut himself.

Then the silence.

I don't know what silence means. Am I safe? Is he lurking on every doorstep?

Silence is scary.

Tonight the phone rang. It was her again. She called me up to give her a confidence boost. Apparently my talk about why she should leave him was life altering. But she wanted more from me.

I"m not safe. I'm never safe. He'll stalk me till he dies.

She's safe.

Back, front.

2006-04-17T23:39:00.000-07:00

Today was awful.
So let's backtrack.
Friday was lots of driving. A tired cranky toddler. We arrived at... night. It was like midnight.
Then the bed. Lumpy tired old mattress that is ten sizes too small. And no pillow. Just a small bag of rocks.
The bed was the tiniest ever.
It was toooo small. Too small for the baby and me to lay comfortably. T slept in the other room. P cried all night- she doesn't like travelling apparently and decided to voice her protests.
Branding had been done on Friday, so we missed that, thank God.
The food... was scarce. It's wierd. She cooks lots. Like breakfast was eggs and waffles and fruit and juice and toast. But... it's like... a quarter of a banana, one scrambled egg, one waffle, half a piece of toast and a tiny tiny glass of juice. I was HUNGRY. I still eat for TWO! That just teased my appetite like a girl in a thong.
So after breakfast was cow checking. Involving ear piercings and calf catching. I drove the four-wheeler. That is kinda fun, I guess sorta. I mean... no, it's not really that much fun. There are mountains and so the four-wheeler is constantly tipped in wierd ways and I have sucky balance. There is a bat. A BAT. In case the cows attack. And they do. And I scream like a girl. Or bellow like a cow if we talk ranchy...
I didn't hit them with the bat. I just screamed. They yelled, "grab the bat" and I just screamed. It sucked.
I got pooped on.
Anyways, we searched for kittens but did not find them. But T did play with a kitty. He said, "kitty kitty I" and then poked it in the eye. Also he kissed it a bunch and tried to carry it.
We played find the egg. Which took all of ten minutes and that was Easter celebration apparently.
We played UNO and I schooled everyone 'cause I rock.
I watched What About Brian and in front of everyone I was all, "hmmm, an open marraige... sounds like fun really..." and Husband glared fiercely, and I giggled.
Next I took a shower to try and shave the hair on my legs for church in the morning. I did a shoddy job (that means my legs are half covered in hair, the shower wasn't big enough and I couldn't freaking see my legs and my glasses were fogging over... grrrrrr....). I did a shoddy shave job, didn't cut myself, but ended up with nine boils. Nine boils.
Afterwards I, at the bequest of Husband, showed him my knife. A few seconds later he said that I have horrible knife ettiquette and said that he should take it away from me. I laughed, then licked the blade and smiled viciously. He said I looked like I might kill him. I told him to sleep with his eyes opened.
They made me and T and P get up at 6! The next morning, for breakfast at church. T looked so mean. I thought he was gonna try to rip someone in half. He had the meanest face ever. All because I cut up his food.
Next Easter Dinner. Ha ha, I totally won. I ate FOUR platefulls of food. I just kept saying, "ohh, look, we have ham?" And just served more. T woke up and wanted to eat right as the meal was ending, so I ate another plate then, and then P woke up as T finished, so I quickly scarfed a plate so I'd "have enough for her." Everyone stared amazed. I kept thinking, dang it, I WON"T be hungry tonight. I swear. We ran out of food again...
So then later, everyone was like, "oh, we don't really need dinner...we ate a big lunch." Grrr. I didn't eat THAT big of a lunch... So I was hungry. Eventually I was portioned out a biscuit and the last slice of ham...
That's a meal apparently.
So then night. Night was fiercely awful to the tenth power.
P screamed and cried and then cried and screamed. She was freezing. So I wrapped her and fed her until she slept and my breast was about to tear off. Put her back in her bed. She screamed. I finally just laid with her in bed, and then Husband rolled over on her. And I hit him, and he rolled back. And she was okay. Then he tried again a half hour later, so I hit him harder and screamed "stupid bastard!" and I was tired.
So finally I got her to sleep in her bed after HOURS of fighting and coaxing and feeding and cuddling and fending her off from being squished to death. After forty five minutes of real sleep, I heard her screaming. So I opened my eyes.
Knives. In my eye. I felt it. Both eyes. No warning. It's worse then a papercut.
My eyes.
Tearing apart as I open them. I shoved my hands over my mouth to muffle my scream.
My eyes. My stupid freaking eyes. Dehydration from nursing a dumb baby. Lack of sleep to heal them. MY EYES! I feel that top layer pull apart- not terribly bad, it's not like that time I had to go to the hospital, nah, it's just bad enough to make me moan in pain. Um, bellow like a cow in pain.
P is screaming. I'm muffling my tearless cries.
So I pummel husband. Wake up idiot. Wake. Go, tend baby. I's done.
I close my eyes and wish for death. I sleep for another hour before Husband is shaking me awake.
Awaken! Time for food. If you miss breakfast you don't eat!
I growl at him, not that sexy little kitty kat growl that says, "come on baby..." But that fierce angry tiger growl. Snarling angry woman. Leave me alone. My tummy rumbles. I did lotsa feeding. Lots. Fed baby. Baby boob feeder. MUST REPLENISH.So I sit up and I can't really see.
Eyes. Papercut eyes. Imagine that. That little feeling. That slit. That knowing that it's gonna freaking hurt. In your eyes.
My eyes.
I grumble myself to the table. Everyone is dressed. I sit and cover my eyes. Eyes. Eyes.
They make jokes. "Sleepy? Want coffee? I heard you bellow like a cow last night..."
I snarl like a tiger. Demanding eye drops.
They don't exist.
They DO exist. I inform them. They DO exist. MAKE them appear!
They don't exist.
Not till we find a store. A STORE in this God-forsaken ranch. At least an hours drive. Husband says, "pack the car, I"ll be with the cows. See you in an hour."
I give him mean eyes. Mean papercut eyes. Angry mean papercut eyes.
He packs the car and we go to try and preserve my vision. I don't open my eyes for that whole time. But I can feel the sun. I put on sunglasses.
Eyes.
Papercut eyes.
Finally relief.
Thank God.
Less snarly am I. I feed P. I get pooped on. I clean her, change her, clean her seat, clean my clothes, feed her again. She poops on me again. I start to take my top off in the parkinglot. Free peep show. Come while it's fresh. The poop I mean. Husband announces his utter shame at my existance. Stupid tart.
Stupid baby poopy head.
We go to McDonalds. Meat. Food. Hungry.
T wants to play nintendo. I don't know why there is a nintendo. I'm not caring. I let him play until the food comes. P is hungry.
I start to feed her.
Food comes.
T wants to play. He's been in the car for a week. He wants to PLAY!!
Husband picks him up and holds him on his lap and tries to force feed him. T kicks him and bites him and starts screaming. A real tantrum. He's a strong boy I might add. Husband starts screaming that this is my fault. I don't know who to deal with first. Which child do I settle? T somehow escapes and knocks over a small girl. She screams.
I order the bigger tantrum child to collect the smaller one and sit down and start acting like an adult. He immediately tells T he's going to have to sit in the car alone while we eat.
I just about take out my knife and remove vital organs.
Trade babies.
T is perfectally settled down when I stop the pinching and yelling. He eats and I tell him he can play in a minute. P cries. She's not done eating.
I trade back and tell older child to settle himself down and stop being an ass.
P poops all over my clothes.

*sighs*

It's a thong, for boobs.

2006-04-13T16:01:00.000-07:00

I"m a nursing mom. That title is inspired by this nursing shirt I have...

Well...

Everyone is talking to me again. I feel tired. Lots of mental work.

I don't know where I'm going but I sure remember where I've been. :)

My mom doesn't read this diary. She just makes assumptions and what not. That's kay by me.

It's Easter. So I'll be going to the cow farm. For Easter. To brand and what not. Sounds scary to me. Really quite.

Z keeps asking me for baby advice. It's... wierd. I feel horribly uncomfortable and angry most of the time we talk about it. But I pretend I"m not, 'cause I don't like confrontation. I know, I should tell him. But I just don't want to. His kid has some sort of problem with his head and has to go get surgery. I'm sure he'll go to that. Of course when Penny had HER tongue clipped he convieniently didn't come 'cause it would have made HIM uncomfortable. But whatever. I'll try not to notice that or something.

I think that maybe he comes here to win me, and only sort of likes her. That's what I think. They are right that kicking him outta our lives now would be easiest for me. And probably easier for the kids. It's a nauseating thought though. "So yeah, you're immature. So I'm taking the kid." I don't know how I ended up in charge of this mess. I have to try and be the adult and I suck at it. I'm a great mom. I'm not so good at all this stuff involving men. I wish I knew what to do.

I'm laundrying and packing and thinking to myself how I"m totally nuts. Have a Happy Easter. "This too shall pass."

Hey, at least I"m not Job, covered in boils with his whole family dead...

Have you spoken truth at all?

2006-04-11T23:57:00.000-07:00

In the last three years have you done anything truthful? I can't believe this is the daughter we have raised. You are so foreign to me. I can't believe this is how you choose to live your life.

He's gonna take her you know. If you let him have any visits, if you take his money, then you are dooming her. For life. You are CHOOSING him, his lazy ass, stop in parenting that can only serve to crush her. Not to mention Titus. He's gonna know. I can't believe you've done this. Don't let him visit again. If he wants to take you to court, then make the court deal with it. And don't even THINK about leaving Husband, after all he's done to stick by you. You are such an idiot.

You better warn us before you tell anyone else, Amanda is going to be weeping for weeks over this.

And I can't believe that through all of this you made him HATE me. WHY? What did I ever do to you? Now there is this man I barely know, who based off of what YOU have said about me has decided to hate me. Your WHOLE online life is all about hating me. WHY!?!?! WHAT did I DO TO YOU?

Mom... I just wish you'd settle down and hold your toungue a little. I KNOW you are a nice person. I know you are. I love you. But these are the things that stick out with what you've said to me this week. I know these conversations aren't easy for you. I know I hurt you. And I'm sorry. Please don't feel the need to punish me. Life is punishment enough. *feels tired*

I don't blame you for all of this. But don't deny that you had your hands in this some too. That would simply be foolish. You pushed and pulled at me with the rest of them. BUT I was in charge of containing it all. I know it makes you angry that I call this marraige arranged. But you WANTED it. You pushed me to it when I told you and him and everyone else that I had no business getting married. How ISN"T that arranged? When your parents push THEIR idea of an ideal mate on you.... *sighs again* I am EXHAUSTED. I can't say more then that. I'm so tired. I can't handle all of this. It's so painful. I don't want my heart torn out more and more. My whole life is crumbling. Even though I did the right thing.

*Sighs* It was crumbled before this. I know that just as well as the rest of you. Now I just have to look at it more.

Should I take her away from him? Is that fair? Is that right? Is that best? Best for HER? I want what is best for her. I really do. I just don't want to miss-step again. I can't survive much more of my own failure.

Exhausted

2006-04-10T16:07:00.000-07:00

My mom is so furious. She keeps saying how I'm just a decietful person. That I just keep hitting her unsuspectedly with a sledgehammer. And she's so ashamed of me.

They want me to just kick Z out of Penny's life. Just like that. Make the decision today, then do it.

Sounds so simple.

Ayelet, Ayelet...

2006-04-08T23:26:00.000-07:00

*leans in close and whispers*

The truth shall set you free.

I'm gonna tell them.

2006-04-08T07:56:00.000-07:00

He's sending money regularly. And he's back each week for visits. I never ACTUALLY thought he'd show up after the whole pregnancy. After the whole NOT SHOWING UP FOR BIRTH..... But he is. It's been three and a half months.

So here goes. I'm in mental distress. I'm nervous. I can't eat. (BOOO!!)

So I figure. Bring it. I"m telling them on Sunday. That means... yup, two days.

I've decided to write them a letter.
Here's my first try.

Dear Mom and Dad;

I have some kind of big news for you. I probably should have told you earlier, but I didn't. So I'm telling you now. I'm writing it in a letter instead of face to face, 'cause not only am I chicken, but frankly I don't WANT to see your first reaction. I'd rather see your reaction after you've mulled it over a bit.

Husband isn't Penny's dad.

Z is.

I love you both.

Miss Nibbles

I suppose I could say "biological father". Hmmm. I wonder if that would sound easier to their ears. Dang it. I'm shaking now. Yup. That panicked at the idea.

Before and after

2006-04-07T09:24:00.000-07:00

You know, I wrote about Titus... And...

I had just had him. I wrote that to a good friend of mine. My heart was busy being shattered in a million pieces. My mind was in a whirlwind. I smiled a lot. It... was miserable.

It's wierd for me to read that too. I tried to write it as happy as I could. I kept thinking, someday, Titus might read this, and he must hear how much I love him. Note how fake happy I sound? How distant from it somehow? I wonder at that. To me, I"m awfully transparent.

Penny's... well, I didn't feel such a need to stay lighthearted during the writing. I put less pressure on myself, I think.

I feel very heartbroken today. I cried all day yesterday. I'm lonely today. Angry, tired and lonely. And tired of being heartbrokenly lonely.

I want a real relationship. One where the man likes me and I like him and we fight and we laugh and we cry and we fight again. But we like it. My heart feels heavy.

Penny's story

2006-04-05T22:11:00.000-07:00

This is much harder to tell in detail. I haven't written it out. A cutesy little version in my other diary, yes. But nothing... nothing like what I will write here.

Husband's family came over for Christmas. I wasn't due until Jan 15 I think... Strange how quickly that date eludes my memory.

She was breech. Breech I tell you! SIDEWAYS.

That's the most dangerous kind. She was likely to die, or I, or both, if we went into labor like that. So we turned her. The doctor forced her around in my tummy, pressing on it and doing an ultrasound. It was so painful. But not as painful as it should have been, my uterus had NO contractions prior to the first turning. NONE. That's horrible. You have to build up strength! But I had none. My tummy was soft and weak. She'd been breech a long long time.

They turned her twice before Christmas, but she kept turning back. I invited that other boy... he begged to be their for her birth, and turning CAN lead to emergency c-section. We turned her, she turned back. You understand that isn't normal? Something was terribly wrong. I knew it. I had gone in to the hospital twice because she wasn't normal. Something was wrong with my baby in my belly. It was terrifying. I didn' tknow what it was though.

Christmas day was the worst day ever. Nausea was constant. She felt horrible inside me like the worst case of the flu, only no vomiting helped. It just hurt. It just hurt. It hurt to move, it felt horrible. So incredibally bad. I was grateful when the family left. As soon as the last one was out the door I said that we were going to the doctor. I was angry they couldn't have left sooner. She needed out.

It was the 27th. Husband's birthday. We went in and he said she was breech, again. I said, turn her and induce me. And Husband was surprized, he kept saying how I did it all naturally last time and how stupid it was for us to use drugs. I was furious. I nearly kicked him. She NEEDS OUT. I didn't WANT to do it that way. She just HAD to be out.

The doctor said he would induce that day. I've never felt so scared.

The hospital rooms were full. Full moon or something....

So we had to wait for a room before we could induce.

I called Z. He said to call him as soon as we had a room and he'd start coming over. My stomach was in knots. They've never met before. He suddenly asked if Husband would leave. I said no. That they'd just have to be in this together and cope.

There was angry sounds from them both. Husband was demanding his name be on the birth certificate. I hadn't even thought about it. I was totally panicked.

Finally a few hours later we got a room in the hospital. It was 9 at night.

They induced me with some pill. Meaning I wasn't on an IV. That ended up being horribly bad. But whatever, I got to walk around and stuff. So I walked around and called Z. He didn't answer the phone.

I left a message.

I called again a few hours later. Dr. Robbins brought in a bed for Husband. We were sort of watching tv. He was ignoring me for the most part. We walked the halls together for a bit. I tried to keep a chipper face, but I was panicky and terrified. Something was wrong with my baby. Something was horribly wrong. Her daddy didn't even care to see her. I was so terrified.

I called again. I didn't leave a message.

Husband laid down and went to sleep. He slept most of the time from this point on. Leaving me to my own scared thoughts.

It hurt like hell.

Inducing was so freaking painful. Birth wasn't bad. I'd shoot out five more of Titus before I'd induce again. But I didn't have a choice. Something was wrong with her.

Dr. Robbins wasn't on call. But he kept calling to check in with me.

I was walking and stomping my feet. Her head wasn't engaged at all. Titus had been fully engaged before I went into labor. Her head wasn't even dropped down lown in my tummy until long after my water broke. It was four in the morning. I was singing to myself, trying to stay calm. Pacing the halls. I called again. No answer. I left a curt irritated message.

The contractions were about three minutes apart. They hurt so bad. So bad. Oh my gosh. I was tearing up on each of them. I'd cry out so hard. I wanted to die. My heart hurt. My mind hurt. My body was tearing apart. My baby might die.

I laid in bed and tried to rest. I fell asleep for ten minutes, I woke up and screamed. The nurse came running in. She's sideways. She's sideways. Get the doctor.

Husband awoke with a start and told me to be quiet, it was gonna be a long night.

If my water breaks we can't turn her. Then a c-section. If she's sideways, that means a c-section and never having another baby again. never. not ever. Never.

I hated her. She was ruining my life. My husband hates me. My children will hate me. Z hates me. My parents will forever be ashamed. She was going to take away all my babies for forever. It wasn't enough. I gave her my whole life. My dreams. My heart. and she would take away all of my future. Every aspect.

I screamed for the doctor.

The nurse came with an ultrasound. She wasn't all the way sideways, but her head was diagonally to the left. Get the doctor. Get the doctor. If my water breaks we can't turn her. If my water breaks it's too late. I'll be cut opened like a science experiment. Please. My doctor.

The nurses stared into my belly for about twenty minutes. I hated that. I didn't want her zapped with rays that long. But they wouldn't listen. They said it was normal not to be engaged. They said blah blah blah. I stopped listening and laid their limply with tears running down my face. Why can't they hear me? I don't care what the monitor says. She's in trouble.

They left the room and Husband fell immediately back asleep. I laid there, tears streaming down my face, the phone in my hand. I was completely in despair. And I heard this soft sound.

My water broke. I started sobbing. Hysterical and uncontrolled fear. It was too late. She was sideways too much. She felt horrible inside me. She was all wrong.

Suddenly Husband was back holding my hand. The nurse came in and was angry with me for who knows why. She grabbed a paper and rubbed it hard against my... I screamed in pain. I thought I'd be papercut. It hurt awful. Mashing at my parts.
"Your water broke." No shit. "I guess we're really in it now." No shit.

I went into the hot tub immediately. The contractions nearly made me scream. My water broke at 4:35. I called again. No answer. I said, "fuck you. Fuck you. It's fucking your turn. Call me. Asshole." And I screamed into the phone more than once. The contractions were thirty seconds apart. I still had hours to go. Hours to go. I sat in the tub singing to myself, crying sobs, trying not to be afraid. My baby was dying, my baby. My baby. I'm gonna have a baby.

I couldn't hardly speak. I was drenched in sweat and screaming on every contraction. Screaming. Screaming.

I stood up. I WANT DRUGS. I said it like that. Standing there, dripping, covered in tears. Husband woke up to find the nurse. I was shaking so hard. I failed her. She would be drugged too, not just die and get zapped by an ultrasound, but drugged. I failed her.

They gave me a shot in my arm. Something went wrong, it STILL hurts, three months later.

It gave me an hour of rest between contractions. Fifteen seconds apart, instead of shuddering in afterpain, I could close my eyes. The contractions themselves made me scream still. Tears in my eyes. They hurt like fire and brimstone.

I was very panicked. The drugs made me loopy. Hard to focus. I was sobbing. The doctor came. Can I push? Can I please? I begged him. For permission. He looked sadly at me. And gave me another shot in my leg this time. I sobbed. Another hour went by. The contractions hardly stopped. They were touching eachother. I would just cry out so loudly. It hurt so badly. I couldn't breathe. Husband was awake and standing by me. I was naked and too hot and miserable.

You may push, but slowly. We don't know what is wrong yet.

It was out of control. I couldn't stop. I was crunched up in this horrible position. Curled in a ball with my legs twisted together. Push slow. Please Please push slow. I cried. I couldn't stop. One push, and already I couldn't stop. I tried all my energy to push slow. Teh nurse grabbed my leg and ripped it out to be open and I screamed. I thought I was bleeding tears. I felt my muscles rip all through my leg. I screamed "please wait I'll move I'll move." My leg hurt so bad. I expected it not to be there anymore.

One push and she was born. She came out and the doctor yelled "SLOWLY" And I screamed trying to stop it. The nurse ripped my leg and I screamed in pain and in loss of control. She came sliding out so fast. The cord wrapped tight around her neck. Her body blue. I screamed. And fainted.

I opened my eyes and she was on me. I kissed her and kissed her. She was purple and blue. Horrible nasty colored. She looked like death. I kissed her and sobbed. She wasn't dead. I sobbed. I felt so alone. I sobbed. I was still in so much pain. I couldnt' deliver the placenta, the cord wasn't attatched all the way. She had been slowly suffocating since who knew how long. She was slowly suffocating in my belly and only I knew. She was suffocating since who knows how long. The first time we turned? Two weeks? The last time we turned? Eleven hours? Who knows how long she went without all the air she needed.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep immediately. Eleven hours of labor.

Eleven.

I woke up and they were all gone. Just the one leg ripping nurse. She touched my tummy, and it felt full, like a baby was still in there. My eyes got big. And she made that tut tut noise and leaned her weight onto her hands. A clot. Blood sprayed from me. Gushing like a waterfall. I could hear it. I could see it spraying across the room. I could feel the life leaking from me. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. IV. I can't be alone! HUSBAND. The nurse told me to bleed to death while we waited for him. She glared at me for telling her to wait. HUSBAND. He came and was in my face and talking loudly. The IV was in. I was gushing gushing blood. They waited with more blood ready. My mind flashed STD's... and other blood diseases. I didn't wake for hours.

I called.

No answer.

The phone rang, hours later. "Her name is Penelope Rose."
"Well, at least it's done, right?"

I fell asleep in the middle of him talking. He didn't come see her for over a week. I nearly died. She nearly died. I nearly died.

Stories upon stories.

2006-04-05T22:06:00.000-07:00

It's hard 'cause I have to repeat things. Timelines are fuzzy in some points.

I didn't go back to school the next semester.

I started working on the annulment. I started conversing again with other people than Titus. I started to fight for the shattered pieces of my mind and my heart. I was becoming human, that's how it felt. I was becoming alive again. Making decisions. Remembering how to smile on my own. Not basing my entire emotional status on a baby. I fell more and more madly in love with my son.

I longed and missed that other boy day in and day out. So much guilt. So much sorrow. So many regrets. My heart burned with searing pain. I could hardly stand to think about it.

As we worked on the annulment things we grew closer. His words made my heart pound. I loved him so much. It was unbearable. He would kiss at me and adore my every movement. He wanted sex. I didn't even care. I just said okay without another thought in my head. I felt like it was right somehow, that I should be satisfying to him like that. I felt it was fair. I didn't care about me. I had RUINED him. That was my focus. I owed him. I couldn't shake that.

Then that day I was fertile. He asked me to have his baby.

I wont' tell that part again. It makes my whole body shudder.

Titus' Birth Story

2006-04-05T21:45:00.000-07:00

I wrote most of this a few days after I had him.

That boy had slit his wrists. I could hardly think of anything else. I had made a person so miserable they actually tried to die. My parents went up without me and brought my stuff back on Monday.

So Friday morning I awake with consistent contractions that were 5 minutes apart. So I'm thinkin' holy cow here it comes. So it's five thirty in the morning. I time them for an hour. Yup. They are regular, not too painful or anything. So I wake up Husband. He puts the carseat in the car.... etc etc. He was terribly excited. I kept telling him "tonight, we're gonna have a baby!" But I was wrong. It was a confusing mix of excited and heartbroken.

We were going to go to the hospital that early in the morning- but we decided to wait. I think we thought it would be smart to stay at home as long as possible. I called the doctor to ask him if that was fine. He didn't call me back until noon.(actually he didn't call me back at all. He had some other doctor's nurse call me. She couldn't answer any of my questions.) So at about six in the morning we spend an hour or so preparing for the baby. Washing baby things, installing the carseat and many mirrors all over the car so we can see the baby from any seat. We walk around the block twice. We're both so excited we can't really sit still.Then the contractions slowed down. A bunch. They went to ten minutes apart, then fifteen.... and slowly slowed slower and slower. So by noon they had stopped.

If I had been using my brain at that point I would have taken a nap. But nooo I have to be heroic and stay awake. (Note to self, if ever a woman has been having contractions all day, she needs a nap if she can get one)So that is the point where the doctor assistant calls... blah blah blah. She tells me nothing useful. I'm bummed. No baby. Sheesh.

How horrid.

It's Amanda's birthday. So we walk around since Husband is already skipping work. We go and shop for baby things. We look for bubble gum baby cigars. We walk all over. They come back. Contraction after contraction.

ohhhhh... maybe this IS the real thing! So we go to Amanda's birthday party. She's turning eleven. Do I need to comment on how much I love eleven? We walk.

The contractions get harder, and more frequent. THey are irregular 8 min, 4min, 9 min, 3 min-I averaged about five minutes apart.... thirty seconds long. As a side note I considered plotting it all on a chart and finding a function to match so I could say it wasn't irregular..... :)

So we finally go to the hospital. (meanwhile both our parents know we're in labor... Angela knows too and she's so cute- stopping by to check on me...)

Then we have some fun. Husband is such a wonderful guy. He kept me hydrated, handing me water, juice and ice over and over again. I sat in the hot tub, we walked the halls, we watched tv and rested a moment. They did lots of baby checks. Listening to the little guy’s heart, and trying to see how it was doing.

So we go there around nine or ten or something like that. Finally they tell us- not really labor. Go home, sleep. I was so shocked. What on earth was real labor if not that?

So we go home.

Husband crawls into bed and goes to sleep.

I lay down.

I try to sleep, but the contractions are too hard. They keep waking me, and they just keep getting harder and harder. Finally at around 4 thirty or so I give up on sleep and try to walk around. I feel horrible. Absolutely nasty. I can’t really describe it. It feels like I have the flu or something. My whole body aches and I can’t sleep and I feel kind of dreary. I burst out in tears on one of the contractions- mostly I’m just so mad that I’m having them, that Husband is sleeping, and that I can’t sleep. I just wail. Husband wakes up and is quite flustered. He gives me a hug. I haven’t timed any of the contractions. I have no idea how close or far they are. Husband, being such a sweetie, helps me take a shower so I can warm up and ease the aching pains. He’s timing contractions. I’m still not paying attention.They start coming soo much faster, and so much harder. Husband says it’s time to go. He says they are only three or four minutes apart, and lasting about forty five seconds.We go to the hospital.The first thing the doctor says is Would you like me to break your water now? It will shorten labor and we’ll see this kid in no time. 6:30 he breaks my water.

Ohhhhh that is gross. It is kind of like peeing without any sensation of control. Just gushing gushing. Then the contractions are nearly unbearable. They hurt soooo bad. A contraction feels a bit like bad diarreah cramps. Ones that just get worse and worse and worse and worse.

I think that we’ll have the baby by 7:30. Every time my mom had her water break she’d have a kid in her arms within the hour.

This is terrifying. I might be holding a kid in an hour. Holy moly.They tell me to sit in the hot tub. It’s cold. I can’t feel warm. I am getting pretty tired. I almost fall asleep between contractions cause I’ve been up for a zillion hours and I have been doing hard work. But the ease of sleep ends quickly. Soon I am just in pain. My hips ache, my arms ache, my bottom aches, my knees ache. I lay down in the bed and I don’t get back up. Another hour passes. I can’t help but cry out on the contractions. They are unbearable. I am ready to push. I tell the nurse I’m ready. Then she tells me something awful. I am only dialated to 8, and I have to be at 10. This is a big problem. Pushing is a no no. Basically I’m not open enough, the baby would have to shove through my flesh to get out. Something that would hurt me awful and bruise the baby’s head. I’m kind of freaked out.

So I spend the next hour trying to stop myself from pushing. It’s exhausting. Don’t push don’t push. I whisper it on every contraction. I beg the nurse to check and see if I can push. She says that I can’t yet, I’m still at 8.

The next hour was the worst. I couldn’t control it any more. I scream when I can’t stop pushing. It scares me. That I can’t stop.

It’s so scary. It’s the same kind of scary like throwing up uncontrollably for an hour. I feel like I’m losing control of everything.

I panic.

Complete and total panic for a little bit. Then I take a deep breathe, focus, try again. Finally they say I can push. I don’t know where the doctor is. I don’t really care. I just start pushing. It’s so hard. I’m so tired. It takes all my energy to focus, to actually push. On a contraction I hold my breath and bear down, another quick breath-push another quick breath- push. Three pushes per contraction. I can’t do more then that.

Forty minutes.

Breath push

breath push

rest

I haven’t opened my eyes during any of this. I am just quiet. Suddenly I feel this cold air. Dr. Robbins is fanning me. Thank goodness. He’s here. I don’t know how long he’s been there. The other lady is talking to me, reminding me what to do. Husband is whispering nice things. I close my eyes and focus. Focus.

Finally at 11:10 it happens. I can feel he’s close. They tell me to push as hard as I can. I do

One contraction

Breath push

Suddenly I can feel the head is out and there is fluid gushing all down me. They tell me not to push again- they want to clean the face and stuff. I don’t really care what they say. I’m having this kid.

I push.

Then I’m done.

I’m done.

They set the slimy screaming thing on my tummy.

I’m done.

I start to pet it.

It’s slimy.

I’m done.

It’s slimy.

Everyone is saying things. Guessing weights. Doing all sorts of stuff.

I’m petting the slimy squirming screaming thingI haven’t opened my eyes. I don’t know what it looks like

I know I’m done.

I feel totally out of it.

Like I took too many drugs or something.

I just keep petting the slimy thing. I think I didn’t open my eyes for a good twenty minutes.

I start to say shhhh. To my baby. I look at it. It’s moving. I hear someone say something about it being a boy.

It’s a boy.

It’s my boy.

It’s Titus.

It was such a strange feeling. To know it was mine, my boy, my Titus. I just wrap my arms all around him. I talk to him. I look at him. Gosh he’s slimy. I ask Husband if he wants to hold him. He doesn’t. I just sit there. They ask me to push again to deliver the plecenta. I try, but I get really dizzy. I felt like I was going to fall out of the bed. After a while they weigh the baby. And somehow everyone leaves. 8lbs 8.4 oz 19 inches. Titus is huge.

My parents show up, and take pictures.

I’m wrapped up in blankets. I have the vague realization that I am nekked underneath them all. Suddenly I feel quite awkward with my parents there, and I’m happy for them to go.

Titus doesn’t even have a diaper on yet. I hold him. Finally a nurse comes in and sends Don with Titus to give him a bath and stuff. Then she helps me out of bed. I’m shocked. I can hardly stand. I’m covered in blood. I thought they had cleaned me up, but they didn’t apparently.

Then she hands me a few washcloths. I try and clean myself up, but I’m so tired I can hardly do it. It’s exhausting to move. Then they put me in a wheelchair and push me down the hall into another little room. There I stay for a whole day. Then I come home. Lots of visitors. I sleep.

This is like the candy apples version. There is more, of course, always more. More heartache then written there. That is written with the sad smiles of a new mommy. I spent the next three months going to school, holding a baby that never stopped crying. I cried when he cried, I laughed when he laughed. I hardly spoke to anyone. My heartbreak was so strong, so steady, so fierce. I barely existed during that time. I felt like a horrible mother. School started one week after I had him, and so I walked the six blocks back and forth to classes. I hated my life, but I loved my baby.

Childrens

2006-04-04T23:29:00.000-07:00

I meant... I talk only to them. Not that I share my problems with them. If I told THEM all of this, I think I'd burst my head open. Seriously, I"m the mom, not the horribly distraught woman that raises them. They know me as mom. I listen to them, and I tell them stories of things that are good.

Okay, the books. I don't know if I like them. Yup, on book 3, and I haven't decided. Sometimes they are plainly and simply too predictable. I've heard this before. Have you met Tolkien? And various others... I've read alot of fantasy, this is pretty much a book about all great books.

But... it's surprizing twists occasionally make me giggle. ESPECIALLY since anything that remotely surprizes me CONTINUES to SHOCK and AWE the characters... so somehow I feel as though I STILL was smarter then them. I don't know if I like that part of the book or not. I just feel sooo much smarter then all the characters...

But it's tantelizing plot anyways. Even with the predicatabilities and what not.

And honey, WHO DOESN"T want to be Aes Sedei? They are stunningly beautiful, always young, extremely attractive women, with men with swords as their constant slaves and companions, with super powers that allow them to rule the universe AND they are mysterious. As though they have some sort of magic secret everyone wishes to have.

Here's a side note; I think that secretely all women ARE like Aes Sedei, with secret sexual prowess and delightfully coy manners.... All powerful....

At least, that is how I like to imagine me...

:)

I am finding myself distancing myself from husband lately. He's suddenly become more affectionate, and I'm holding back. I try not to, and I just feel horribly uncomfortable. I can't really explain it.

I heard a song today that basically started with lyrics about bveing very alone and crying out for help from someone you trust and them just not showing up. I got lost in that verse. I would have sobbed if I had let myself. It was exactly what I felt the day she was born. I remember walking the halls by myself trying to call up that boy- he had begged me to let him come to see her birth. He never picked up the phone. I called ten times while I was in labor. Ten times. My heart slowly crushed. I could hardly stand it. I was in so much pain. So much pain. MY body hurt, my mind hurt, my heart hurt. At some point I screamed this nasty swearing message into the phone and told him that if he cared he could call. I would answer. Then I walked the halls singing softly "I'm gonna have a baby, a baby a baby" and I stopped existing with other people. It was me and her and my song and my tears and my own heartache tearing and gnawing at me. That song I heard today. It just put me there.

He was so angry the next time we spoke. He said that I wasn't letting him be a part of this baby 'cause I didn't put his name on the birth certificate.

Honestly? I didn't fill it out. I was busy bleeding. And bleeding. I've never seen so much blood in all my life. I was screaming. And it was gushing out of me as the nurse pushed on my stomach and it almost sprayed the ceiling. I felt my life start to sap out of me while they put in the IV and I heard them say they'd wait four minutes and start a blood transfusion.

The doc said I'd have my blood back sometime this month. She's four months old on the 28th...

I'm rambleing. Okay okay... um..

I'll take ya'lls advice and start hunting for a "mind doctor." But seriously, if I move out, I can't afford that. So they'll have to cure me quick. :)

giggles uncontrollably in a controlled manner

2006-04-04T13:12:00.000-07:00

First; Wheel of Time. I'm on book 3. That means a book a week thus far, that's not half bad if you ask me.

Secondly, I'm not sure I like it. I'm not sure I dont' like it either. I'll talk more about it in my next post though, 'cause at the moment I have to call the insurance people...

but before I do that....

Therapy. Hmmm. Mayhaps I can afford it. Mayhaps I'd actually trust the person... hmmm... I'll think it over. The last family member that went to a therapist lost her mind whilst there, found "repressed" memories, and... um... yeah, she left the family over it... so that makes me skeptical to say the least.

Fourthly, I do not have anyone here to talk with. Besides my kids, and they dont' have words yet.

Okay, I'll write more later, I promise.

Fight for it.

2006-04-02T00:22:00.000-08:00

I have no need to lie- I crave what I cannot, and likely will never have.

A happy home. A man who adores me and I adore. Attention in the appropriate ways. Some sort of middle ground.

Where I am not the focus, the turning point, the force behind everything. Secretely weaving my web. Without my work, my relationships teeter and crash.

Not that I expect them to do everything.

I don't.

I just long for give and take. Instead of take and take.

I wish for affection. Physical attention. Not this awkward thing I have with Husband. The sex is... plain awful. I most often feel like I'm just there to empty him so that he can be bothered by it no longer. Sex is never my decision. If I ask, the answer is no. If I say no, the reply is, "yes you will." It's not a fair game. He controls me. And I let him I suppose.

But more then once my attempts to seduce him have failed until HE decided he was ready. I spent everyday for two weeks asking him for sex, and he said no everytime. It doesn't matter what I do. It's the same result every time. I can be subtle and sweet. I can be direct. I can be sexy, I can be plain, I can be delightful, I can be angry, I do everything I can imagine. And yet I fail. I think I am beautiful still. I turn heads now and again. I would think that it's not my attractiveness that wanes. But what do I know? I don't want to stay forever in this realm of uncertainty. I want my husband to be with me, love me, long for me, and romance me. Mayhaps this is foolish. Maybe I"m too old for such things.

I don't mind working hard at this relationship....... it's just... been endless.

Hope fades from my heart and I feel as though my choice is to stay here forever and ever and stop complaining and pretend I don't mind.............or to step away with confidence I don't have.

And step away to what exactly? For the hope that somehow I will find balance? That I won't cry anymore? That someone will sit and hear my story and wish to become the next chapters with me?

It is foolishness! Completely utter foolishness! I want to shake myself and slap my face and scream and tell me to stop dreaming for more. Stop hoping. Let yourself sink into this place and decide that there will never be more then what is.

But that secret part of me longs for more. I try and fight it, but it grows.

Husband has been working later and later, and finding more and more to do. He was home today, all day, being a Saturday and all. We didn't speak but for a moment. He went and worked away from me. Then he came and sat on his end of the couch and read magazines. When he finished he went to bed.

I brought him apple juice when he was working. He didn't notice me. I put on pretty nightclothes to tempt him into meeting my eyes, and he never so much as glanced at me. The children were put to bed, and his heart sleeps alone away from me.

I do not know how this is the life that I live. I have so much more then this.

Music is healing.

2006-03-29T23:52:00.000-08:00

I love music. It speaks my language.

My family lives in town. I see most of them everyweek. "Cept Angela and Andrew who live sooo far away. My dad is my preacher! So every Sunday at church he does the whole talking and what not. I try and visit them often. They rarely come here... My house isn't convienient, nor big.

I LOVE big families. I want my own flock of children. I hate the silence of an empty house.

*smiles softly at the thought*

I have a chance at a job. I'm excited. Cross your fingers for me.

My tummy is still caved in like the week after I had her. It's been three months. It's still caved in like the day after I birthed her. I feel empty. It is lonely to birth babies.

Okay okay, I'm gonna go read The Wheel of Time series. Book 2. Maybe it'll be better then the first- but I doubt it. Few writers gain more skill the more the write- at least in a series like this....

We ARE Family!!!

2006-03-27T00:01:00.000-08:00

My dad- He's a great guy. A pastor. He's passionate, caring, romantic. He's friendly, he could make anyone laugh. He's one of those people who just seem to know everything. In so many ways he's my hero.

My mom- Well... let's be frank, she's easily depressed, scared of most things, cries a lot, and slightly controlling. BUT I LOVE HER TO DEATH!! She's wonderful, and has been my best friend most of my life. She's devoted, caring and brilliant.

Andrew- A year older then me. He's in Chicago. Married my best friend Angela. He's lots of fun, a storyteller, one of the smartest men you will ever meet. He got double degrees in four years. He's insanely smart.

Angela- My best friend since middle school. Married to Andrew. She's a riot. Makes me laugh all the time. I can read her mind, and finish her sentances. We don't talk much anymore. She doesn't know anything about the other boy, and she won't talk about her life with Andrew. She says that it's awkward since he's my brother. I say she needs to get over it and try and be my friend........ *Sighs* I miss her.

Philip- A year younger than me. I sang to him everynight when I was just two or three. We're good friends, we get along lots. He's a bachelor, with no prospects at the moment. He's fun though. He comes over and hangs out sometimes. He dreams big, if not momentarily.

Timothy- Obnoxious. He's seven years younger I think... He's not yet driving. But he IS driving us all crazy. He's been obnoxious since forever ago. I love him. He's a really sweet guy, when he wants to be. I just say he's obnoxious because he's my brother... I still remember him being two and kicking my shins blue with his cowboy boots.....................

Amanda- I'm eleven years older. THAT"S important! I am ME! I am born the eleventh month, eleventh day at 10:57 just to be onery. On my eleventh year of life I got a sister. My one and only. She'll be my best friend someday, right now, I'm hers. :) I love her so much. She's spunky, loves to copy me, has a great heart. She's the spitting image of me, personality and everything. She makes me wish I was young again.

Matthew- The tiniest surprize of all. I am seventeen years older than him. He gives great hugs and loves to play the I love you game. It's a riot. He's patient and kind. He loves vidya games. He plays and laughs with the best of them. If he wins a game, then he'll cheat so YOU win the next time. He likes to be fair. He's a great kid.

Titus- My son. Wonderful. More than I could have imagined. Generally a happy kid. Let's you change his diaper without a fuss. I'm 20 years older than him :) He's so wonderful. I can't imagine my life without him.

Penelope- My daughter. I'm 21 years older than her. She's precious. A fighter and a troublemaker. She makes my heart more fearful than just about anyone. Me and her have gone through WAY too much trouble for her only being 3 months old. WAAAAY too much trouble. Her birth, traumatic!, her turning blue with sickness, her tongue getting clipped, her neck being twisted all wrong.... oh man... I can't afford her!! :) But she's my dreams for the future. I want her life to be daisies and kittens until she's much older. I love her forever.

These are my family now and forever.

NOW I'm homesick.

Avoidance is best for everything

2006-03-26T23:50:00.000-08:00

Okay, so...

I've been busy.

But, in answer, um... I've had two babies. They pretty much get you ready for sex. :) *LAUGHS*

Seriously now, it's not that sex was painful, not physically, just emotionally.

Knitting has two main steps. knit. or Purl. Purling, is knitting, only backwards. So basically you learn the same step in forewards and reverse.

Crocheting, is much quicker, much easier to make look perfect. Most baby blankets can be made in an hour or two.

Titus got bit by a ferret on his nose.

I have avoided the computer most of the week in an attempt to "get more done around the house" In reality it just made me very lonely, slightly depressed, and engrossed in a novel.

Penny is getting stronger and moving her neck more.

I worked in the church nursery today and... um... well, let's just be brief- I noticed a girl with Penny's breech problems... to the extreme. Not good. I told her mom about it and she was horrified. She said her pediatrician said it wasn't a problem. IT IS. Her baby almost definately has permanent damage. Her whole head is shaped wrong, she's six months old. That's enough to scare me into double timing my stretching Penny.

The other boy comes tomorrow to see Penny. We'll see how that goes. I feel nauseated over it.

I went shopping with my sister, it made me homesick. We bought matching pants, so now we are twins or something. It's fun. I love her.

Come to think of it, I should do a family introducing entry.

Yes, I'll do that in a moment.

Umm... other thing sfor the week... I hung out with Vanessa, saw her new house. It's beautiful. I'm jealous. It doesn't matter that mine is "better" in sorts of ways. I love the quaintness, the architecture, the intrigue, the coin operated dryer. The seventies cabinets! The set up! Ohhh to paint the walls!!!!

But no, I had to end up in a house that was already put together and painted, impossible to babyproof with an awkward layout. The kitchen is half the house, but set apart in such away that I can't HEAR anything when in the kitchen. Meaning, if I am in the kitchen I can't hear the living room- and vice versa. THUS if TITUS is in the kitchen........ who knows what he could get into before I would hear it!?!? So, he is gated off from half the house, and I hate it. I need.... some other safer set up. In the layout of the house.

Okay, so I think that sums up my week.

Two Shay

2006-03-23T00:38:00.000-08:00

If I had the choice between crocheting or knitting, I'd crochet in a heartbeat. It's WAY easier to fix your mistakes AND there are more stitches to learn, so stitch boredom is MUCH less likely to happen.

So let's talk sex.

I know, it'll be awkward. But get used to it. I'm a grown up. I am married. I attempt relations.

:)

Yes, this will be a horribly awkward entry for me. But frankly... it's confusing to be me.

So Husband comes in to my bathroom and watches me take a bath whilst he talks about such and such and so forth and etc.

Meanwhile, I try to get laid.

Yes, yes, I do it all folks, gestures, looks, seductive comments, giggles, coy flirtatious glances.

Finally I give up on all of that, after a twenty minute attempt to get his attention, and I go for more blunt.... "Would you like to cum in here with me and get me wet?"

ACK!! I feel sheepish even saying it! But it's my diary, so neener neener!

He responds with something childish. And rude. THAT I won't repeat.

So I say, "fine, I give up, we don't have to have sex. I get the picture."

And then he says, "WHAT?!!? You wanted sex?"

And I feel suddenly like I"m seventy eight.

Old, wrinkled, and tired of living.

See, I've been doing some thinking. The last five times we have had sex, it's been on his terms completely. He's said no to me every time I attempt to offer. This is what happens when we DO have sex. I am asleep in bed on a Saturday morning. He's awake and playing with the kids. He comes into our room, slips into bed with me, already horny, and naked, and with a condem, I might add. Then he proceeds to start having sex with me. While I'm still sleeping/sleepy/not fully alert. Once while I was drugged with Benadryl. I awaken to him... doing things, naked, on me. I feel.... well, startled first off. It's scary to wake up to sex, seriously, it is. And then I try and pretend to be horny, and it's over in ten seconds. He kisses my forehead and leaves.

I don't know if this is what people talk about when they say "being married and having sex tends to not be good, or cuddly or whatever" But... seeing how we only have sex once every month and a half (I've charted it, I think it's his schedule somehow), this makes for me not having sex hardly ever, and when I DO have sex, I'm not awake all the way for about the first half.

I would ask if this was normal... but I'm pretty sure it's not, so I'll just skip that question.

My friends have only just got married. One of them says sex is frequent, wonderful, cuddly and fun. The other refuses to talk about HER sex... but says that if we'd pray before we start then it would be better.

I think that's creepy. I love God and all... but it would be wierd to pray right before sex as though it was some sort of sacrificial ceremony or something.

Hopefully someone will post comments.

Questions? I've got answers.

2006-03-21T22:44:00.000-08:00

Okay, so, I learned to post a picture, thank you muchly Madam Buttercup.

These are my pride, my joy, my constant trouble...

My life, my dreams, my children.

I don't know if I can really write more then that.

So, in an attempt to answer your questions, seeing as how you have answered mine...

My mother doesn't feel that this was an arrainged marraige. Aha! So out comes the truth!

Well, yes, yes, I know. BUT- I feel it was.

See, she kept pushing and pushing. And I'd try to break it off... but in reality she wanted me to marry him just in an effort to NOT marry the other boy. It was simple in her mind. Husband was to become husband to simply... steal me away from the other boy. It was a confusing time. I don't even think she realized how manipulative she became.

It was heartwrenching to me. My mommy, my best friend, my confidant... suddenly had turned into this manipulative person who only wanted what was best for me on her terms. She was unsafe to talk to. She made every decision difficult. She constantly and consistantly tormented my heart. And I wanted to trust her, but she was.... being insane. And I love her... but she wanted what she thought was best for me, no matter if it was what I wanted or not. I never planned to marry husband, and tried to break it off numerous times.

As for the other boy.

I have no idea. I don't know if he dated her just simply to get back at me. Or if he loved her. Or what. I don't know. He's kinda selfish, and occasionally quite mean spirited. In so many ways he loved the idea of getting me back. So, if that was why he left me for her, then fine. I don't mind. Unfortunately, he's half-assed attempting to woo me back. It makes me want to die to hear him say things like "I always loved you more". I would rather he say, "I left you because I am mean and had no other reason to."

Okay, so mayhaps I don't ACTUALLY wish for him to say that. But I long for him to say something more then "my bad" or "just move in with us."

Okay, I'm gonna shush up now before I pull out a slab of bitter and feed it to you on a pancake.

His life is his own. I love him, but it matters little. He's never to be with me again. That's the simple, plain truth.

Will husband actually take my child? He'll try. He's so angry and tired and bitter. I don't blame him. I just want to curl up alone and be without for a while. But alas, that is not my fate. So Wife I be.

Oh yes, and by the way... I looked, I don't have a single picture of me since the baby. It's a shame really. I'll take some and post it someday....

Sparkling Cider

2006-03-19T21:28:00.000-08:00

I don't drink alchohol. I don't know if I will start someday, but I attempt to follow the law, and I turned 21, was all pregnant for forever, and then nursing... and so... SOMEDAY mayhaps I'll taste some. No real hurry though.

I met a fascinating man.

My diary is named Sparkling Smiles. That's like... sparkling cider. Other kinds of cider is just as tasty, only less bubbly. Like my smile. (or so I like to think)

I have felt so unloved these last few years. It's just been trial after torturus trial. I know that my heart longs for more. For passion for romance, for love, for happiness.

Continual rejection of my offerings of those things to my husband make me feel horribly alone.

My heart is tired.

I've been sewing a bundle. I made Titus and Penny the most beautiful furry blanket. I've nearly finished the dress that may or may not sell on ebay.

I have designed yet another one to make and then list. We'll see if it is successful either.

Baby just squealed like a mouse. I gotta go be mommy I 'spose.

Spanglishing Uterus Baby Neck

2006-03-17T09:55:00.000-08:00

So I just commented on someone's diary in Spanish. I only know a few phrases in Spanish, my favorite is "Me cabesa es queso." meaning, my head is cheese.

I also seriously thought about commenting on this welsh diary. But pretty much all I could think to say was "wooden shoes" and I"m not really sure that's appropriate... or accurate come to think of it.

So... Penny and I had a lousy pregnancy and an even worse birth. She was breech the whole time, and it was horrible. I vomited every week. And when I wasn't vomiting, I was wishing I was vomiting. Since she was breech... my body did VERY little work to take care of it'self. IT was all... Ohhh baby... can't feed mamma.... So for instance, I had only like two contractions before we induced... meaning my tummy was completely soft, had no muscle strength, and so, once we induced my poor, very very lethargically weak muscles did 11 hours of labor, when they were used to doing none. It was misery itself. Inducing created it's own set of problems... but ALL THESE POWERS COMBINE.... and I am Captain Planet.... (har har har, not funny)

They said since she was breech, they would do a c-section. BUT since she was SIDEWAYS breech that meant... no more babies for me EVER. The kind of cut they'd have to do... it would make it so that if I EVER in my whole LIFE had another contraction my uterus would split in two. That is, IF I could get pregnant. But the scarring would likely end that possibility. I cried over that for a long time. I didn't wanna be done yet! I only have two!! WHERE IS MY HERD!?!?!?

I want my own gaggle of children.

So...

Instead they turned her and induced me. Turning babies HURTS. Inducing HURTS MORE. With Titus, I didn't even take an ib-profen. I thought to myself, this ain't bad. The next day I was thinking, "definately I could do this another bunch of times. That was totally worth it..."

Penny... ummm... I screamed on the contractions, shivering in huddled pain. I lost complete focus on where I was, who I was... I couldnt' concentrate at all. I begged for drugs, and of course, they were much tooo slow.... So I just got this little tiny shot (my arm STILL hurts from it, 'cause she gave it to me wrong... yes, thank you nurse)

But when you have a traumatic birth.. like bleeding to near death (the doc said my blood supply and energy should be close to normal in a month. Penny will be FOUR months old...)

Then your uterus, can fall out.

The PT said that she's probably going to have developmental problems. I nearly threw up when she said that. She said I have to do extensive work with her for hours every day or else she'll end up seriously behind the other kids. She has the twisted neck, from laying in my belly wrong. Grrr.

My advice? Keep babies downwards whilst in tummy. Keep babies upwards whilst out.

Oh, hey but I FINALLY got my excercise equipment. I'm starting on level 3. Very exciting. I'll let you know if I get to level five... that's the "super virgin" level. And level 6... they say go work in bankok. I think that is the funniest website ever... coaxing me to work out my parts to keep my uterus in... and apparently keep my sex drive up. "cause you all know me... I"M the one who never wants sex....

Sheepishly goated.

2006-03-15T15:17:00.000-08:00

Yeah, so I JUST realized I was writing blogs. Blogging thoughts. Tinkering at Typing...

And hitting "save" not "publish."

Boy do I feel like an Irishman without buckles on his shoes.

Buy bucketfull of time and put it in my pocket...

2006-03-15T11:58:00.000-08:00

I've been busy like a person who has stuff to do, and then some.

Once someone made fun of me for saying vomit was vomit-colored. But it made sense to me at the time.

Anywho...

Today I'm taking my daughter to get her neck twisted by a professional. Some call it torture, some call it physical therapy, but I call it expensive.

I've been discouraged, it makes writing harder. But I'm comin round. Life IS tough.

ohh, but my uterus is falling out. Awkward. I know. It hasn't fallen ALL the way out (yet) so that's good. I'd hate for someone to point at me and say, "did you drop this.." and realize it's my uterus.

This is another bonus for having babies... So women, if you are out there and barren thank the lucky stars your uterus is still in your body.

(the unlucky stars will have to find their own thankings)

I almost did an audio blog. But then I was like.... ACK! Ya'll would hear my VOICE! And I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet. So I'm practicing. I've been talking to myself all day. Just in case I decide to audo blog it.

I've been requested to sing at this ladies luncheon thing on Monday. I'm scared snotless. I don't wanna lie...

I dont' know what I"ll sing yet. Been lookin though. Mayhaps something will just fall from the air....

Okay, 'nuff said.

Taking it in.

2006-03-11T21:40:00.000-08:00

Okay, so...

He keeps calling me used. Used like a prostitute after a thousand men have had her and she is worthless to everyone.

Unlovable.

He says, "the woman I loved doesn't exist, all that is there is an old bitter angry lady."

That's hard to hear.

I am hurt. I try not to be bitter. I WAS angry, but I"m coaxing it to fade like a red t-shirt in a bucketful of bleach.

I've been kind, welcoming, delightful, sweet, thoughtful and wonderous to him. Why does he say these things of me? Am I really a broken woman? Have I lost all that is wonderous and beautiful and turned into a hateful wretch? I don't understand.

I even kissed him when he left.

Husband and I talked calmly. We also had a nasty fight, but both came to the same conclusions that I should not be living with him any longer. Heartbreaking to me to hear it.

But then he said that he was taking the kids. That I can't take care of them and have a good life still, so really it's in my best interest to leave them with him. I nearly tore off his arm and beat him to death with it. That moment filled me with the most anger ever. I don't care about school I don't want a career. I don't want or need anything. EXCEPT MY CHILDREN. I won't be able to continue existing as a woman. If he took them from me. How can he possibly think it's in MY best interest?

I feel tired today. My vacation was cancelled. Titus is vomiting endlessly. I clean, he vomits and cries and cries. Then he sleeps in my arms. Then he wakes and vomits down my face and we start again.

V-gas.

2006-03-03T23:42:00.000-08:00

I"m probably buying a minivan this weekend.

I"m going to work extra hard next week so I can go to Vegas. I am gonna visit my grandparents. Gamble? ME!?!? I doubt it. Do you know they won't let you gamble whilst holding an infant? It's all those underage gambling laws. You never know, a baby might drop in a quarter...

They are so strict I'm surprized they let me put in a quarter whilst pregnant....

I like the penny slots. They are ridiculas. Most of them make me laugh so much. It's like I"m just paying to play a vidya game.. and THEN I might win money! Yay! Seriously, I put in a quarter and won eleven dollars and I giggled alll week.

Husband won't come with me on this trip. I dont' know if that is a good or bad thing. But I do know this, it's gonna be tough to drive nine hours with me, myself, and I, and two under two year olds.

I haven't really been sleeping. So that's odd.

I have been extra stressed lately. I feel very pressured to make sure I don't screw up anything else. It's an overwhelming feeling. I check, and then double check, and then triple check just about everything.... Even just making dinner feels like a huge pressure. What if I burn something? Will he hate me more? He doesn't say anything like that... I"m just so afraid to mis-step. That's how I feel, on my toes, dancing on eggshells... It's not his fault. It's mine. I"M the stressed out kitten with all the over-reactive worries.

I have ten pounds left of baby weight. She's only two months old and I've only got ten left to lose. That's a miracle all by itself. I find myself strangely attractive... with the funny loose skin tummy and the tired eyes from late night feedings. Perhaps someday I'll post a picture.

Titus has this fancy picture of him holding Penny. It's my favorite ever.

Hmm... I just realized I have no idea how to post a picture. So yes, once I know how to do that, I'll do it. Like adding a song. I like music.

My short term goal is to sell a dress this month. My longer term goal is to undo the mess that has been done. So yeah, that's impossible, I know. But they say God can work miracles. So I'm not giving up hope.

Silver and Gold

2006-03-01T11:18:00.000-08:00

"Make new friends, but keep the old.

One is Silver and the other is Gold."

I'm totally not kidding that we just started a silver and gold club at church.

It's basically a friend ship game. Come play hither with me and my chic-lets!

As a side note, my backdoor neighbor is a man who smokes pot and walks around in just his underwear. It makes me feel uncomfortable breastfeeding with the shades drawn. So I sit, alone in my home with my baby, and feed her under a blanket, just in case. <---- Modest.

I had an interesting experiance with the slightly crazed just the other day. It seems he had a... rage is what he calls it... whilst we were on the phone. Well, anyways, he started screaming, and throwing things. not screaming words mind you, just that gutteral freaky noises. like a bear. I'm pretty sure he thought he was being attacked by something.

And as soon as it ended... I had a panic attack. Thank you very much. I handle stress well.

Titus tried to choke his sister. Thank you Titus. He's been sneaky monster today. He was spinning around with his mouth open... and "accidentaly" landed his teeth in his sister. Then he hugged her. And "Accidentally" left his mouth open... didn't quite bite.. but he was sure wanting to. Then he was walking backwards.... and OOOPPS!! how did he step on his sister? It was an accident... yeah right!

I find it entertaining that he's already trying to trick me. Thank goodness I"m super smarty pants.

I'm in my pajamas, it's 12:41 in the afternoon and I'm sipping coffee. Being a mom is wonderful. I'll go get dressed and get on with work now I suppose. One dress on ebay, one to go...

Give me love, liberty, disco

2006-02-27T22:08:00.000-08:00

Okay, now for a joke to get us going;

Have you heard all this stuff going on in "them religious" countries?
Seriously now, even the Jews are afraid to admit they are Jews.
Like just the other day, I said to my friend, "Hey you are a Jew, aren't you?"
And he said, "no no no... I"m Jew-ISH"

That one is for all my Jew friends out there...

Oh my, lookie lookie
Perfect dress!! THIS is what I"m selling. So make me monies people!! :)

Now, as you all... um... hundreds and thousands of you that have been reading this...

you may have noticed my slow vigor in posting again. Well... I just... wanted it all to sink in. Yes, that's it. (Actually I needed to catch my breath again... it's kinda a long tale)

Penelope has spent the last few hours crying. Thank you Penny for your kind insight on life. She started cooing this week, and I couldn't be prouder.

Titus is... well, he's fantastical. He was watching tv in my glasses. He learned to count to five. He can remove his diaper under his clothes, and he's almost in need of his first haircut... (BOOO!!) He's only 18months. He needs to quit acting all grown up!!

I am... well, I'm what I am. I'm not sure what that is half the time, and the other half the time I pretend I don't know. I"m on a journey to reinvent myself from something that I've become to something grander than I was. I'm nervous. I feel like no matter which path I next take, all these poor people hang in the balance. It's tiresome to feel so old, and yet be so young. It seems strange to think that barely two years ago I was a virgin girl afraid of very little, anticipating life ahead with great comfort. A college student with vigerous mathematical skills.

And now, now I"m a mother, twice over. Something I couldn't live without. Children breed delight and joy. They are ever my hope and my future.

Questioning eyes, haunting thoughts.

2006-02-16T22:54:00.000-08:00

I wonder so many things.

I mean, I'm a mom. It's my duty to protect my children for forever. To teach them to laugh and live and make wise decisions. It is my duty and my honor. And I wonder, should I stay where I am not wanted in the hopes that they will grow up happier? Or do I leave and demand better for myself, and lead like that?

I don't really believe in divorce. I never have. It seems like such a wimpy way to live. "I vow for forever...ooops... I mean... you smell funny so forget it."

But... then again I never expected to be in such a position where a man would hate me, love my children, hate me, and yet never want me to leave so I did not shame him more.

I wonder if a couple dozen years from now he will tell me that I've stolen from him the best years of his life and turned them into misery. I wonder if I will feel this alone for all that time.

I wonder so much.

When is the point and time at which a mother says that the father cannot see his daughter? When does she do that? Simply because he's irresponsible? Because it's clear he is. I wonder why I have to make this decision. Can't God just zap him with lightning or something if he's not supposed to visit, and if he IS supposed to visit, can't he just show up? I can't have him treating her like she's not the most precious thing ever. I'm not expecting the impossible. I'm expecting fair and proper treatment, like calling when you can't come. Is this unreasonable for me to expect? Am I forever going to have a child waiting impatiently, pacing, and full of tears feeling unloved by her daddy? When do I know if I'm supposed to end that part of the relationship?

*wrinkles her nose in thought*

It's so difficult! I can't take care of everyone! Why does life have to be so hard? I feel as though I have already ruined my chances at anything ever being okay. Husband will never love me. My children will hate me for my mistakes. Whatever I choose now will hurt people. It's just pick and choose. Who is next?

I wish I could wrap up all that pain and sorrow onto my own flesh and spare them all. I wish I could simply show Husband enough love that he can just be happy. Or that he'll just send me away. I'd rather not stay. That's the truth. I will stay, but I'd rather not. That's why I work so hard. It's not like we're starving, I just work so I have a back up.

*sighs* Is it that I feel hopeless and that's why we are failing? Or are we failing and it makes me feel hopeless?

Today of days.

2006-02-15T22:13:00.000-08:00

Today I worked hard. Laundry, dishes, cleaning and mending things. I finished a dress for daughter to wear. She's beautiful.

Me and Ty, my son, played hide and go seek. Mostly he "hides" by standing in a corner. Then I chase him and tickle him and and tell him he's wonderful.

I bathed them both tonight. Penny didn't like it one bit. She screamed and hollered. But then she was so happy when it was over. Her mouth looks normal now that it's clipped and put in its place.

I sang softly whilst I did my chores.

Likely I'll get another job tomorrow. At night. A phone answering service. My part time secretarying and part time tutoring is fun, but not quite enough. *giggles* I'll probably end up being a part time everything...

Dance quietly in the dark

2006-02-14T20:12:00.000-08:00

When you feel so inadequate, attempt confidence.

When you feel like hiding, invite people in.

When you feel so worthless, raise your prices.

When you feel so sad, try and laugh.

When you feel so ashamed, find some pride.

When you feel so alone, make some friends.

I have been attempting to do that all my life. It's what I wish for. To be what I am not.

Mayhaps someday I'll succeed.

To the end.

2006-02-13T22:48:00.000-08:00

Unfortunately I didn't finish.

I merely took an emotional break.

I don't think my parents know.

I had to do an annulment.

This involved seeing and speaking with the other boy. It was unbearable to see him. All I could think of was what I had done to him. How he could never love me again. But I longed for him to.

I started plotting to win him back.

I could hardly help myself. He has my heart.

And I tried, during those three months, I tried and tried to repair some of the damage with husband. but he kept pushing me farther and farther.

My loneliness and heartache were driving me to insanity.

I found an apartment, and applied for it. I got the paperwork back, I could have it if I sign the papers. I was terrified. I don't know if I can do this. If I can be enough. If I can raise a baby. If I can ever recover.

Son was just barely eight months.

Slowly I had been winning back the other boy. He longed for me to be his. I did to. I loved him so much.

I was there, and we were working on some of the papers. And suddenly he kissed me. My heart started to pound.

It quickly moved to holding and kissing in this passion that was just unbearable. I can't describe what it is like to be constantly and consistantly rejected and beaten down, and then to have this moment of complete adoration. But... then it even quicklier turned to sex. I stopped him. I told him that we couldn't. He might get me pregnant.

He said he loved me. He said that he wanted me to move in with him. He asked me why I would have a baby with somone I didn't love and not with him? Didn't I love him? Let's do it! Let's have a baby. Let's be together. Forever. He loves me no matter what. He kissed me and I just melted, I knew I was fertile, I knew it was more than risky, but I loved him and longed to be loved.

This is what I longed for. Devotion, love, passion, romance!

I packed all my things. The other boy had a strangely light week at work. And I made him a present to open everyday of the week. I was going to come and visit everyday and give him things and kiss him and at the end of the week I'd tell him. I had an apartment. I was pregnant.

I got son in the car that morning. I remember being so excited and scared. I was shivering. I put on pretty clothes and had the car all packed with presents. The garage was packed with all my things, ready for moving.

The phone rang.

Don't come.

I've let Amanda move in with me.

Those words took my breath away. He is living with someone? What the hell?

I burned the presents.

Then next day she called me. "Who the fucking hell are you? Why have you been calling him? Why are there love letters from you? Who ARE YOU?" Her voice pierced me.

I hung up.

He didn't speak to me again until Friday. He had taken off his ring I gave him and replaced it with another. We were at a park. I told him I was pregnant. He spit on me and asked me if I even knew who's it was.

I said there was no doubt.

Husband even knew. He hadn't touched me in months.

He said he needed to go back to her and think about it. That he liked her better, because she was a version of me that never hurt him.

I vomited, and then left. He didn't speak to me again for four months.

I didn't move out.

Daughter was hard to carry. She made me violently ill. I could hardly function. I couldn't sleep. I vomited two or three times a week for the whole nine months. She was breech. She hurt in my tummy. She had the cord around her neck.

A month before she was born he suddenly was angry with me. He kept saying that I refused to let him be a part of this baby. That I was intentionally excluding him.

I asked him if he wanted to be there for the birth. He demanded it, But then he told me that Amanda was pregnant. She was due a month after me.

Daughter was breech. They said that the c-section they would have to do would make it so I could never have another baby again.

My heart broke over that.

The doctor did this procedure to turn her. She wouldn't stay turned. He had to do it three seperate times. It hurt like fire and brimstone.

Husband invited his family over for Christmas. It was overwhelming.

I had never hosted such things before. I could hardly stand, I should have been on bedrest.

As soon as the family left they turned her and induced me.

I called the other boy. He said he was on his way, then he didnt' come.

I was in labor 11 hours. It was so painful. I shook horribly. I couldn't function. I could barely stay focused. Everything was going wrong that could go wrong. Something was wrong with her, they just didn't know what. I was full of heartache and sorrow. Husband couldn't handle it either. He slept through most of it.

She was born with the cord around her neck. It had ripped from the placenta. Nobody knew how long she didn't have air.

They decided she was okay, then they took her in the other room with husband.

The nurse pushed on my tummy, and I started to bleed to death. I didn't know a person could bleed so much. It was gushing out of me like bucketfuls. I was screaming. They started an IV and were about to start a blood transfusion. But they waited ten minutes.

Then they decided I would be okay. They checked me every half hour. I was barely concious. At some point the other boy called. He said he wasn't going to come up and see her. He had stuff to do.

Husband filled out the birth certificate. It has his name on it. I didn't argue. Why would I?

She was born the 28th of December. The other boy has visited for one hour every week since then.

Amanda had her baby last week I think. Because he didn't come.

To Ayelet, my sad tale

2006-02-13T15:57:00.000-08:00

I don't know how I am to answer ALL your questions in one sitting. My goodness! I didn't realize there were so many comments...

How arranged? *giggles* That sounds like that question... "how allergic to nuts are you..."

Well, quite frankly, I did a great many things wrong. Relationshiply. Or however you say that.

I was madly in love with a man I shouldn't marry. I knew I shouldn't marry him. So I refused to date him or anything like that, I'm a good girl.

So my parents thought it would be a good idea for me to start dating husband. I was, really nervous. I told them I thought it was a bad idea, PARTICULARLY since I was really emotionally involved with someone else. But, they were my parents, and he was a nice boy, and they requested that I date him.

Problem was, I wasn't able to break up with him. At some point I came to this realization that we needed to break up. I was in the middle of this nasty tug of war in which so many people were telling me what to do and how to be. I didn't want to screw it up. So I was moving slowly.

The other boy was insanely passionate, romantic, kind. I could hardly wait to see him. But he had some problems. He was suicidal. He was not my religion. But he understood my heart, and I loved him dearly.

Things went out of control VERY fast.

I don't really know how much I want to say. I'm terribly ashamed at how big of a mess I got into. I had always planned to do well in life and marraige.

My mom kept telling me I was madly in love with husband and only mildly in "attraction" with the other boy.

She started to manipulate me intentionally. She'd say anything, do anything to keep me from breaking up. She said I'd learn to love him more, and he'd learn to love me.

He loved me, but he's barely attracted to me.

We were both so young and inexperianced in so many ways. That didn't help us. I felt guilty all the time for loving another boy so much more than husband.

I started to break up with him. I really tried. In a soft, quiet way I told him that we couldn't be together, that it wasn't fair to him. That I know my parents really want us to marry, but I can't treat him like that. I can't. I can't marry him when I'm in love with someone else.

He started to cry, and said it didn't matter to him. He just wanted to marry me anyways. He didn't care who I loved or didn't love.

I wasn't really prepared for that reply. Here I had done my best to be defiant to my parents, and to leave him for his own good, and he just rejected it. And somehow, amidst all the emotions... we made out. This was WAY too new for me. I kept thinking, oh man, I have to love him. I have to. It's my job now. I'm never gonna be able to escape this. He rolled over on top of me and I slapped him. I told him to get off of me. That he didn't have the right to do that. He said he was sorry, and then came.

I don't know if that was sex really. I went home and sobbed. In that moment I lost all belief in my own self worth or my ability to ever be loved.

He asked my parents for my hand that week. He said, "I've been having sex with your daughter, and I don't want her to think that's the only reason why I keep her around."

It might sound like a procliamation of love to me. But it was an imprisonment. It only further stripped me from my ability to leave.

My dad pulled me aside and asked me if I was pregnant with that other boy's baby and sleeping with husband just to hide who's it is. I have never felt like such a dirty filthy being. I didn't even mean to have sex. I meant to end a relationship.

He proposed that Saturday. I gave him a hi-five. And I guess that means yes.

Things from there went from chaotic to worse. They set a date and mailed invitations without telling me. I was trying to stall because I was so overwhelmed.

We had sex one other time. I got pregnant.

I told him I was pregnant, and he said, "are you sure?" And I never replied.

Finally my clothes got too small.

I told him that I was pretty dang sure I was pregnant... I mean, I passed the test and everything.

And he said, "oh. That's great. Now we'll get married."

My parents and him planned the wedding for a week later. I said I had cold feet. That everything was moving so fast. That I was scared.

They said it was normal. Don't worry. Stop being so silly.

How can I tell the rest? It just goes from there to bad. To very bad. To painfully gouge my eyes out bad. My life wasn't in my own hands anymore. I was so out of control of things. I stopped even trying to figure out if this is what I wanted. It was what I was supposed to do. Just do it. It's your job.

It's not like I hate him. He's a nice guy. He is. He just doesn't like me very much. Especially comparatively. I hate saying that. He's unaffectionate, he doesn't like talking to me, he hates cuddling, he likes to come home and stop in, then go and do other things away from the family, we spend weeks upon weeks not talking. Not angry "I refuse to talk to you" just... oh, I haven't seen you in a while. He loves me. Like you dutifully love your parents, even when you don't particularly like them.

I don't have any way to explain the events that happened next. I was pregnant. I was mentally, and physically exhausted. I was a ruined person. Unloveable. I was doing my duty for my child and marrying. I would find a way to make him love me. I decided it. He will love me like I want to be loved. I'll just love him so much he can't possibly help himself.

There were two weeks after the announcement of the pregnancy before the marraige. Me and husband didn't speak at all during that time. He didn't call or anything. I insisted that we act like grown ups and just announce to the church that we messed up, but were trying to correct things along with our wedding invitations. This shamed my parents. But not me. I would rather not pretend to not have done the wrong thing. I wanna do it right.

But this other boy. I had to tell him. I told him the first saturday. I was to be married. I was pregnant. He cried awful. I did too.

The friday before the wedding he showed up and proposed. He said he'd love me no matter what. He just loves me no matter what. He wants to marry me. He wants to love me. He wants to be good to me. I held him and kissed him and told him how much I love him. The next day I refused to put on my wedding dress.

I can't marry husband. I CAN"T. I don't want to. I'm not ready. I"m so confused. Please don't make me.

They said it was cold feet I'd feel better once it was over.

I vomited.

They said morning sickness.

I cried, then got dressed and walked down the aisle.

Our wedding night we had sex. It was only the third time mind you. I was still scared. The next day he told me that we weren't going to stay on a honeymoon all week. That he wanted to go home and back to work. We didn't have sex again for three months.

His choice, not mine.

In stressful, high pressure situations I clearly don't react well. This is a realization I've come to. I mean, it's just so overwhelming to me, my brain just shuts down.

The other boy picked me up one day at school, just a few days after I was home from the honeymoon. He didnt' know I was married. He was just waiting for me. I was startled, terrifed. He asked me if I would come with him to do something fun. I said okay. I figured I'd tell him.

He brought me to a little wedding ceremony.

It was wildly romantic. He kissed me and held me and begged me to be his wife. And I stood there, astounded. His parents were cheering. There was no priest or anything, just the certificate. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck and begged me to sign it. He said he was so excited he was going to frame it and put it on the wall as one of his greatest accomplishments. I have never felt so loved in all my life.

So I just impulsively signed it.

I vomited just a bit later.

That was the only "morning sickness" throughout the pregnancy.

I was living in an apartment, the lease wasn't up until school was out, and I was in school. So I told them I"d just move in when the lease was up, otherwise I'd have all sorts of fines and stuff.

At this point, I lost all ability to cope. I just started living pretend lives. I'd lie all the time. I just didn't want anything to be mixed. I had three or four complete pretend lives. I couldn't handle what I had done. I was pregnant. I was married twice. I had no hope for life anymore. I was disgusting to myself. I'd stand and stare in the mirror and face the truth. You are a horrible person. If you weren't pregnant, I'd kill you. You just hurt people. That is why you exist. I hate you. I hope you die.

I'd say it so often to myself. Any moment that I wasn't pretending myself a different life. Pretend to be wife of one man.

I lost all self respect.

I decided I was going to move in with the other boy. After all, husband simply didn't like me.

I was due to have the baby in two weeks.

I came home from work the day I was supposed to move to find all my stuff gone. It was a surprize. Now I was moved in with husband.

I told both of them that night.

I figured they'd both hate me forever.

Much to my utter confusement, they didn't.

The other boy showed up and I moved to his house. I just left a note on the door for husband.

Husband came to get me.

There was this horrible, wretched night. They kept trying to coax me to do what they wanted. I was exhausted and could hardly think, and in the middle of a panic attack. Husband asked me if I was having contractions. I didn't lie. I was. He said we needing to go to the hospital, that I didn't look okay.

I came back in the house and said, "I"m going with him." Meaning to the hospital. but I don't think I said that.

The other boy started freaking out and grabbed me and shook me and was screaming at me. I collapsed.

"TELL HIM YOU ARE STAYING!! TELL HIM"
he kept shouting it.

I trembled outside again and started to tell husband. He said get in the car, we are going to the hospital.

I got in the car.

The other boy slit his wrists.

I came back not that much later. Maybe ten minutes.

There was blood everywhere. All over the house. The door frames, the bathroom, the couch, his shoes. His clothes. I carefully bandaged him. It was the deepest cut I'd ever seen. He wouldn't let me take him to the hospital. He needed stitches. I did the best I could with bandages. He was shaking all night long.

I had contractions all night. I never told him.

The next day I talked to my parents.

I told them I was married to the other boy, that I was moving in, that I loved him.

We had a talk for the next four or five hours. By the end of it all, they had convinced me. That I all I could ever do was hurt him. Ruin his life even more then I already had. My whole being was so crushed at that moment. I gave birth just a few days later. It was a boy.

I didn't speak to anyone but husband again for the next three months. And husband... became ever more distant. On purpose. He'd call me dirty, and a whore. He said I was too disgusting to love.

I agreed.

Clipper lips.

2006-02-13T13:21:00.000-08:00

So, the doctor called.

Right after I had awakened a very tired cranky toddler, dressed him and insisted he start a bottle while I diapered and changed his sister. Whom he promptly attempted to bite.

He put her foot in his mouth...

and then...
sharp sharp teeth!

So I thusly smacked the back of his head. Which made him look at me like I was just being crazy. Like, "mom, WHY?? Why do you just hit me outta the blue like that?" Of course, the fact that he was planning on chomping off toes doesn't bother him at all. I'm seriously worried he's going to mangle her feet if he actually gets a good bite on them. He leaves bruises on me already! So far he hasn't got her yet. I'm hoping I can get him all cured before it gets that far.

So anyways, the doc calls. After I have awakened them both two hours earlier than normal morning starts. And one is in the car...

and they say, "ooohhh, um. Can we cancel? Reschedule?"

I"m like, "grumble grumble"

And they say... "is tomorrow okay?" No. It's not. It's rather inconvienient. My toddler is gonna be cranky all day long because of you. It's not okay. Tomorrow I work. Tomorrow I am a busy busy gal. Tomorrow, is Valentine's day. (Not like it matters. I'm not planning on doing anything. I read this website that said "men want sex for valentines day, so give him that, that's good 'nuff." So I asked him if that was a good enough present. He mumbled something about "being the thought that counts" so... I'm pretty sure he just wants to sit in a room together and think to ourselves "we had sex." and then continue with normal living. Okay, I"m rambling, let's focus)

So anyways, long story short I went to a funeral today.

He was a nice guy. His daughters died before him. His wife got cancer and died and he cared for her daily. And then... he had nothing. He just longed for death. He'd talk about it all the time.

Once I had an awkward moment with him in which he was telling me about one of his grandkids, and randomly my milk let down and sprayed his hand that I was shaking. I felt incredibally embarassed. But THANKFULLY he was an old man and thus didn't notice...

He had a heart attack. At his grand-daughter's wedding. We prayed he'd pass quickly, since he longed for it so much. He didn't fear death, he was impatient for it! He recovered from the heart attack and was terribly discouraged. He kept saying "why on earth is God keeping me here?"

And then he got pnemonia and died.

He was one of the coolest men I've ever met.

So tomorrow we'll clip her tongue, take her to the chiropractor, pretend we like days that celebrate love, and work.

Wish me luck.

How to TRULY surprize your man in bed.

2006-02-12T17:40:00.000-08:00

Hide a live swordfish under his pillow.

Today I am hopeful, less bitter, and ready to rumba. Unfortunately, I don't know the dance well enough to just go for it.

I am still quite nerve-wracked about the tongue clipping.

But I'm not gonna think about that now.

I'm trying to redetermine my own self. Remake, remold until I become creature I am proud of. I am hopeful.

I can be confident. I can be wise. I am beautiful. I am trustworthy. I am worthwhile. Maybe if I whisper it enough I'll believe it.

I got a new bike! So that's the good news. Now I have transportation for me and my kittens. They've got the little cart to ride behind me, and I've got the bike to pull them. I just hope they don't learn words like "mush!" or "onward ho" Or "giddy-up"

Tongue Tied

2006-02-12T00:04:00.000-08:00

Think positive. Be merry.

It's good soul food.

My daughter is... well...

tongue tied.

What does that mean exactly?

Well, for most people it means it's difficult to talk, or find the right words.

For HER...

it means...

Her TONGUE is TIED.

To the bottom of her mouth.

Now, being an observant, and competent human, you've probably noticed there is this thing under your tongue. Its this little skin that holds your tongue in your mouth. That's it's purpose. It prevents you from, oh.. let's say, swallowing it.

KISS was all crazy wild, and got his cut out, and thus he can stick out his tongue ridiculasly far, AND he can swallow it.

Little darling, month old child of mine cannot. She can't stick out her tongue.

Her little membrane thing goes all the way to the tip of her tongue. So she can't move her tongue. Or stick it out. Or cry normally. Or make that "Ptthhth" sound you can make. It will make eating an ice cream cone look funny. Probably give her a lisp.

So. I have scheduled a day to have a procedure. In which, they will clip her tongue. With sissors. They just give her a shot to numb it, and then cut it. Just like that. Super fast. Scares the cheese whiz outta me.

But, then she'll be able to properly stick her tongue out at her brother, lick ice cream, unlisp words..... etc.

So you know. When all else fails. Get a random procedure.

2006-02-11T20:07:00.000-08:00

It's not supposed to be difficult to stay married. It's just not.

I mean, you get up in the morning, I make you lunch, I kiss you on the cheek, send you out the door.

I spend the day caring for your children, preparing for your inevitable arrival. I wash your clothes, clean the kitchen, vaccuum floors.

When you arrive I greet you with questions; Nice day? Ready for dinner? Would you like to play with the kids? Want to play vidya games? What can I do for you?

I feed you. Give you time for your projects. Sit quietly and knit or crochet whilst you watch your telly. I try.

It becomes time for bed. So I do my wifely duties. Put the children away in clean beds, clean diapers.

And I kiss you softly and stare into your eyes and invite you to bed.

And you stare back with that underlying anger.

And I ask you what you would like me to do. How I can love you. How can I? How can I make your heart pound, your toes curl, your mind happy, your body happy, your life delightful? What can I do for you? I am your wife!! It is my duty and my pleasure to make everyday special, wonderous, and delightful. How can I possibly make you feel more loved? What more can I do?

And he doesn't hear the questions. He doesn't long for me to satisfy him. And he sleeps.

And my heart breaks. And I cry silently so not to disturb his sleep. And I wonder how it is that I can't please him. And I grow more determined. Tomorrow perhaps. Tomorrow he may be ready to love me back. Or at least to accept the love I have for him. Maybe he just needs something different.

Tomorrow comes. And I try different. I watch him, study him. Does he like me more if we play fight? No.

Does he like me more when I'm sexy to the point of embarassing myself? No.

Does he like me more if I am covered and sweet like a child? No.

Does he like me more if I surprize him with love notes? No.

Does he like me more if I am quiet? No.

Does he like me more when I talk loudly and often? No.

Does he like me more if I am rebellious, completely un-submissive? No.

What does he want me for? Why did he marry me?

The cold ice of our relationship never relents! Can't I warm his heart towards me? Won't he love me? Why have I failed him? Why is he content without me?

We are alone and seperate. Yet, we are married. "The two shall become one." But we didn't. We didn't become anything. We are seperate lives, desires, passions. We hardly converse. We never connect.

It wasn't like this before. But I bore him a son. An heir.

His need for me is less now. I continued the family name. There is no pressure for him anymore. No need for a wife any longer. I suppose I could ask him for another child. But he doesn't want another. He did what was necessary and family pressures are gone now. What need has he for a wife? He's content in his ways. He's content being perfectally distant. He's content without me.

And yet, he doesn't wish to end this. It would be shameful to him.

How is this what I have become? I thought that pleasing a man would be my honor, my duty, my pleasure, my delight. To try and keep our love strong by any means. I have stepped well beyond the bounds of my own comfort trying to give him anything his heart would desire. Witty? I can be that. A hard worker? Most definately. Quiet? Loud? Passionate? Romantic? Sweet? Bitter? More emotional? Less emotional? Train me to be yours! Teach me how I can satisfy your heart!

And he stares at me, and shakes his head. He says, "I don't really want any of that. I just want to come home and play with my son." And he's polite. But I am not his friend. I am not his lover. I am not his confidant. I am just the baby's mother. The title "wife" hardly describes me. Wife implies so much more! More that he doesn't want. Not with me. Mayhaps not at all.

I wonder.

And tomorrow I will try again. I will try and win his heart.

And tomorrow I will fail again.

2006-02-10T11:48:00.000-08:00

Disneyland, for cats.

When I was a small little young lady. Barely four I believe, my brothers, a year older, and a year and a half younger...

well, we wanted to go to Disneyland.

It was our life's goal.

I imagine you can't understand. We saved our money! Our birthday money! Our Christmas money! We'd say, momma, how much money do we have now? Can we go yet? And she smile at us and tell us how close we were. We'd find quarters on the street and insist on going to the bank and depositing them. Is this enough?

It was our focus.

We did get to go at some point by the way, and mostly hated it. But that's not this story.

This story is about the desire. The anticipation. The complete lack of understanding. We had never been to a theme park. We'd never ever rode the little quarter rides in front of the grocery store! We just knew, things go fast. There is fastness, and laughing, and dancing and giant round ears that looked like cookies.

Anyways...

One day we were out at the top of the hill where the house was. At the bottom of the hill was the little graveyard, and the church where my dad preached.

We found this sapling. It was a really pretty little tree, and it would bend down in the wind.
We liked that it bent.

And jumped back up.

When the wind blew, we would watch it.

And then...

The wind stopped.

And we came to this sudden realization, that wind, is unpredictable. And in order to watch the tree bend we would HAVE to find another way. So we bent it ourselves. It took all three of us, pulling hard against the springy tree. All of us to hold it down. And we'd count to three, and then let go.

And the tree would dance. It would just flip back and forth, back and forth. Like magic.

And so, we wondered. What can we do with such a magical tree? It was fast. It was magical. It was like Disneyland.

So we did a sensible thing. Every person on the planet would have done it. We put a kitten on the tree. First we pulled it down, all bent over, and then I carefully placed the kitten on it. The cat was supposed to swing back and forth on it. A real rollercoaster. It would be majestic! A stunning moment. This kitten would be the envy of all other cats! It would go to Disneyland.

But, much to our surprize, the kitten did not do what we intended.

We set her on the tree...

One

Two

Three.....

And we let go, and the tree went back and forth, back and forth!

But the kitten did not stay on the tree. The kitten catapulted down the hill. Flying through the air like a kite. Then it tumble tumble tumbled until THWACK it hit a grave.

I stared at my brothers in shock. They stared at me. Then we started dancing and jumping and cheering! We taught a cat to fly!!

We ran down the hill and picked up the kitten, still hooping and hollering and dancing. The very dizzy kitten scratched at us.

It wants more! It LOVES Disneyland, for cats!

And we ran up the hill.

One, Two, Three....

Back and forth, back and forth,

Tumble tumble tumbling

THWACK.

Dancing and cheering for the flying kitten!! Hurray!!

Then we'd run down the hill, and the cat would be struggling to run up the hill. IT WANTED MORE! Back to the tree we went.

One, Two, Three...

Then the front door opened. It was mom.

We turned and looked at her with a giant grin.

Look mom! Disneyland, for cats!

And suddenly time went slow.

Her slow moving running,

Back and forth, back and forth went the tree.

Her shouting NOOOOOOO

The tumble tumble tumble tumbling of the kitten.

The angry look plastered on her face.

The THWACK that suddenly made time move again.

And the spankings that followed thereafter.

Apparently kittens aren't supposed to go to Disneyland. (But I still think the kitten told all it's friends...)

2006-02-09T23:09:00.000-08:00

This is my first post.

The first one is always the hardest. It sets the tone for how everything else will somehow end up.

I have two children.

They are my pride, joy, and my life. I would gladly and without any doubt give to them everything I have. My property, my life, my being.

I had a hard week. It's hard for me to be brutally honest. Even in a place as such as this. Where I can just be completely invisible.

But... That's the thing I suppose. What if you couldn't stand me if you saw all of me? Or what if you didn't bother to look at all, and just stared at the broken pieces of me and found me hideous? My self esteem couldn't take more trashing. That's the plain and simple truth. I can't take the heat. Don't lite me aflame.

Okay, so enough about my self-esteem.

I"m a mother, mathematician, tap dancer, inteligent reader, fascinating story teller, passionate artist, creative writer, intent crafter, musician, and probably at least a dozen more things. I like life, for the most part. Even though I've rather made a mess of it. I'm part of an arranged marraige that is...

probably going to fail.

But maybe not.

Let's wait and see.

I know! In this day and age...

*laughs*

I"m young, barely an adult for how much I've already lived! I'm twenty two. Just barely taking my steps into the world, if I do say so myself.

And my children, just a bit more than a year apart. I have a set! A boy, and a girl. She's only a month old. Right after Christmas, poor girl. I hope she doesn't feel like her birthday isn't important because of all the celebrating beforehand.

People fascinate me. I always wish to study them and learn them. And love them. *laughs softly* Some days it seems like there is so little love to go around. That's why I made a good camp counselor. Just passing out love like cupcakes at a party. Not romantic love, I might add. That would have been awkward with the little girls.

Eww. And the fact that they are GIRLS.

Okay okay, I'll try and stick on topic. I come from a fantastically big family. I always have hoped I could have a fantastically big family of my own. It's my secret wish. To fill up a house with happy children, and to keep my man feeling loved every moment of his life.

And yet, I've already failed him. I tried to give him me. I tried to give him, love, passion, romance, patience, kindness, goodness, delightful secret love notes, coy smiles, soft touches, children.

And still... he does not want me. I mean that in every sense of the word. He does not desire me to be his woman. Not that he's out chasing skirts, mind you. He just completely and utterly rejects my love for him. I don't know why. If I find out, I suppose I'll tell you. You being the random invisible audience of the unknown.....

*laughs*

Be merry, live vibrantly.

Sparkling laughs

Back and forth like a kite in the wind.

The rat.

Fading.

Back, front.

It's a thong, for boobs.

Have you spoken truth at all?

*Exhausted*

Ayelet, Ayelet...

I'm gonna tell them.

Before and after

Penny's story

Stories upon stories.

Titus' Birth Story

Childrens

*giggles uncontrollably in a controlled manner*

Fight for it.

Music is healing.

We ARE Family!!!

Avoidance is best for everything

Two Shay

Questions? I've got answers.

Sparkling Cider

Spanglishing Uterus Baby Neck

Sheepishly goated.

Buy bucketfull of time and put it in my pocket...

Taking it in.

V-gas.

Silver and Gold

Give me love, liberty, disco

Questioning eyes, haunting thoughts.

Today of days.

Dance quietly in the dark

To the end.

To Ayelet, my sad tale

Clipper lips.

How to TRULY surprize your man in bed.

Tongue Tied

Exhausted

giggles uncontrollably in a controlled manner