I did everything I thought was right, I followed all the rules, and it didn’t do shit for me.  So, please forgive me if I turn a cynical eye towards the god everyone said pray to, to the world that is just a bunch of crap IMHO…  I am not really mad at anyone, just myself for my own stupidity.  So, if you don’t mind, just leave me f*** alone for awhile while I go through the famous “grieving process.”  I am going to crawl up in a ball on the couch with Troll Baby, put on the Wonderpets, and pop some Prozac as soon as I can convince my doctor I am desperate enough to warrant it.

For all you alarmists, don’t freak out and thing that I am going to be all spaced out and neglect said Troll Baby. She won’t exist on Pop Tarts and spoiled milk, or sit around without clean diapers and baths.  I will push though my lethargy and do the mommy thing, just like I always so.  I will put on my happy face, go outside and push her in the swing, play in her pool, and take her and her brother to our retreat, the beach.

Well shit… no time to be depressed.  Just got a call that there is natural gas billowing out of the mail line of my house.  911 was called and here I go to make sure my crappy little house doesn’t blow up.

As I believe I have mentioned before, I dabbled in the personal ads game.  People turn to personal ads for many reasons…  Sometimes you genuinely are ready to pursue that “long term” relationship… Sometimes you are just looking to have fun, meet people, casually date… Sometimes, you just need someone to talk to.  That is why I turned to personal ads.  I am a single mom, with a little one at home.  I still am emotionally invested in someone else.  I can’t fathom moving on, committing emotionally to a new relationship.  It’s just not where I am at, the thought turns my stomach.  Right or wrong, I am hoping that I can regain what I have lost, jkjbring our friendship back to a relationship, and put the crap behind us and start anew.  So go ahead, and call me stupid.  Tell me I am naive.  (It won’t be the first time, that’s fr sure).  Cite me statistics, send me articles about why it will never happen.  I don’t give a rats behind what the experts, Dr. Phil, your best friend Jessica or your Aunt Bertha have to say about it.  I know what my heart says, and it says its not time to go on.

So, why the hell did I post personal ads?  Well frankly, I was lonely.  I don’t do the bar scene well, I like being home with my baby better than hanging out with the party girls.  With the relationship between my baby daddy and myself being vague, undefined, see-sawing and turned upside down, I really felt I had lost my best friend.  Without going into details, I was often angry and hurt, and tended to lash out, making things worse. Without him, I had no one to turn to, I felt lost, and I needed someone to talk to.  Hence, personal ads.  Here, I could go and send innocent flirtations, chat about things that didn’t matter, be made to feel like I was wanted.  I was in control.  I could walk away from the computer any time I didn’t the direction things were going.  I could purposely choose to talk to men whom I knew I would never want a long-term relationship.  I could just bide my time until “my time” finally came around.

The I started emailing with someone who seemed just the perfect friend.  type A (so not me), not looking for a relationship (perfect), kept talking to me when I told him I had no intentions of actually dating because my heart still belonged to another.  I could email him my latest trials, and he would give me his psycho-babble advice… I could talk about work, about how my adult children were doing, about anything, and he never ridiculed me, or put me down.  He made me ask questions, he challenged my beliefs, and he played the devils advocate.  Fine, I could appreciate that.  Then, I hit a particularly vulnerable point, and things shifted.  He wanted to meet.  For me, this was the “Hey, sure.. Let’s meet… This time next week I am going to be back together with the person who matters, and you and I will never see one another again, and it would be nice to meet the person who I have been emailing forever.”  So we met, and he was just as I pictured him.  Smug, so sure of himself and his opinions.  Totally not me.  But, it was fun to argue with someone, to just sit and be distracted by someone else’s voice besides the one in my head.

Well, next week didn’t happen the way I , what I expected didn’t materialize.  I was crushed.  I jumped to conclusions, I overreacted and lost it.  I turned to my “friend” to get advice, got the expected “I told you so, I’m a guy, I know how guys think.”  He invited me to dinner, and I accepted.  He cooked, I talked and drank to much wine, and things went a way I didn’t really want.  Hello walk of shame, at least in my own head.  After he walked away from my car, I sat there and cried, too sick to my stomach to drive.  The next day, he flooded my phone with messages I just deleted.  I told him, I wanted a friend to talk to about life, and suddenly it’s all about sexting… This isn’t what I want out of this.  He reassures me, that’s not what its all about, come over next week and we can just relax.  Well, maybe the push wasn’t as hard, but the game played out the same.  I knew I couldn’t do this.  There shouldn’t be a price to pay for friendship, or companionship.  Although it was never put into so many words, I knew there would always be that price, and I couldn’t pay it.  I couldn’t wait to walk out the door.

There are other dynamics to this story, there always are.  There is no happy ending, you can’t say everyone involved walked away unhurt.  Life isn’t that way.  Today I asked him to not contact me anymore, that I couldn’t continue a relationship that left me shamed and empty, that he could do better with someone who had the same goals for the relationship. With the brevity of his reply, I am guessing he senses the other night that I wasn’t really there (or else his pride is really hurt).  A friend helped me find the confidence to make this decision, and as I sit here this evening singing silly songs with my daughter, I feel such a sense of relief.  I hope my daughter is stronger than I as she grows up, and never purposely puts herself in a situation as emotionally degrading as the one I chose.

So personals, you won’t be seeing me again anytime soon.  To all those those women out there who are selling themselves short because they don’t feel they deserve any better… You are wrong.

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• Would you rent a friend? (guardian.co.uk)

So, I have been single for a while.  A lotta crap has been going on in life, I didn’t really want to date anyone in a serious fashion, but I wanted to have someone to talk to besides surly teens and toddlers.  So, I posted a Yahoo Personals ad, and a Match.com ad.  I talked to a lotta people, it was certainly entertaining, and it distracted me from the dismal reality of my own relationship limbo.

Meeting men through a personals site can be a total crap shoot.  You never know what gonna get thrown at you.  Now, there are your normal, everyday guys who seem to sincerely be looking for a relationship.  I never talked much to those guys…  I have Troll Baby with me, and having time for a real relationship was out of the question.  No sense starting something you don’t have the desire to finish.  So, I chatted with quite a few guys according to their entertainment value.  There are cougar hunters, which personally speaking, I think are highly annoying and more trouble then they are worth.  However, this group is great fun to chat with, they shower you with utterly ridiculous flirting, which keeps your skill set up in case you ever get a personal life again.  If I want to hang out with drunk, immature boys, I can always go over to my gf’s house.

This boy is too nice to be a cougar, even though he sure tries

She has numerous parties filled with drunk people ripe for observation (including numerous young guys who get more and more outrageous the more the longer the night goes on).   I make it a point to be the most sober adult of the bunch, it’s far more fun to watch drunks than to be one, IMHO.

Another variant that always pops up and gets quickly skipped are the old farts.  Even if you are an old dude, does your picture have to look like the Unibomber?  Even worse, like a Hells Angel my mothers age?  At least get a hair cut and trim your beard, so you don’t scare the crap outta me  if your picture pops up on my screen.

Then, there is the married guy.  This guy always wants to be ultra clandestine, talk in code and they never post a profile picture.  One of the first guys I ever chatted with fell into the married category.  He is my age, and I saw making the same mistake of being overwhelmed and giving up on his relationship that I had made.  I made it extremely clear from the beginning that I would never go out with him, but we could talk.  He told me about his marriage, his wife, children and two year old grandson.  I kept encouraging him to put the same time and effort into rekindling a relationship with his wife that he put into moping about how bored and unhappy he was.  I’m no relationship expert (obviously) but I know the mistakes I’ve made, and I shared them.  I gave him insight into the little things that make a woman light up and feel special.  I shared my woes, got a virtual shoulder to cry on.  Although we live in the same town, we never spoke on the phone or met face to face.  Eventually, I didn’t see him on IM anymore, and hoped for the best for him and his wife.  My crisis had passed, and I didn’t feel the need to renew my personals accounts.

Last week, a husband and wife came into the shop where I work as a graphic designer.  I designed an order of business cards, and the husband came to pick them up later that day.  He said something to my boss about how well they turned out, and how much his wife would like them.  My boss mentioned my name, and I hear this guy ask if he can come back and say hello.  Next thing I know, here is my mystery friend coming back and introducing himself.  He said that he too has canceled his personals account, and he’s trying to make things right with his wife.  I am so happy to hear that, and wish him luck, telling him I am glad all my nagging did some good.  In the end, I think he realized the same thing I have.  Diversions are just that… a temporary blip in life.  It’s far better to put your heart into something you already have a vested interest in.  It’s not the easiest route, but the potential payoff is far better.

It has come to my attention, deservedly, that I am biased in my writings about how life has been lately.  Yes, I have tried to be true to my feelings in this blog, put all my whining and complaining here because I can’t voice it to anyone in my personal life.  Here, I can write and pour my heart out, and not involve family in friends, and not keep crap bottled up inside.  Yet, I owe my daughter’s dad an apology.  Despite my own personal unhappiness, I have failed to acknowledge the fact that my daughter has an awesome dad, who loves her very much. He has always provided for her financially and emotionally, and showered her with love.  I think that is part of what makes things so hard.  We have this beautiful baby girl, a miracle baby, that he loves so very much.  He wanted a little girl forever, and he really is a good dad.  I know that any decisions he is making, she is a part of.  I can’t imagine the pain he feels on his end.  I know it sucks for him to not be a part of her everyday life.  He does his best to be here for her during the week while I am at work, and makes the most of that time that he can.  my daughter loves her daddy very much, and that means a lot.  She loves seeing pictures of her daddy on my screen saver.  I feel that’s part of why I have been such a freaking train wreck.  I know that any decision I make needs to resolve around her.  Maybe I have been unfair… It’s a lot easier for people to voice their anger and disappointment, than to take the time to acknowledge the good that people do.

During our time together, he tried to do the best to make life as perfect for me as possible.  I think a major frustration is that it was a goal impossible to reach.  He is  man of a different generation, a stronger, harder generation… and it was a losing battle for him to try and instill those values in my son and daughter. He and I came from a time when you got a job early in high school, where the things you bought, you worked for.  Money just didn’t get handed over, cleaning house and doing yard work were expected when you were part of a family.

I enforced my childrens lack of responsibility at home.  My children spent many years in an environment where the adult was incapable of demonstrating what it means to keep a house clean and maintained.  He would let the toilet and tub turn black with mold and mildew, and food filled pots and ans pile in the house until the odor would be overwhelming.  For many years after I first left my husband, I would pick up the kids from school, and then clean his house while I watched them after school.  When my daughter would be ill, or stay the weekend at my house, her dad would just let the dishes pile in the kitchen, because that was her chore.  I would feel so guilty when I would see that, especially when I knew she wasn’t feeling well, that I would clean up the mess.  When their dad was sick and let puke splatter on the bathroom walls and cabinet doors, I was the one who scrubbed the dried crud.  I kept up me efforts to maintain a sanitary environment at their dads house until my youngest son became able to crawl, and I couldn’t feel safe letting him on the floor.  It was shortly after this point that the kids moved in with me full time anyways.  When my children were with me, I let my guilt over leaving them with an alcoholic parent turn me into an overly indulgent, gotta make up for my ex-husbands meanness with being overly permissive and giving.  I have done that ever since I left their dad.  I also let my childhood, the abuse I suffered, get in the way of objective parenting of my children.  In addition to this, I overcompensated for my daughter at times, and let her illness become all consuming of  my time.  I know that addressing her illness was important, but I shouldn’t have let it cause me to neglect my relationship with my partner.

When Bill would try and instill responsibility and a work ethic in the kids, and they would come whining to me about being misunderstood, whatever, I let my fear of conflict get in the way of what he was trying to do with them.  I wanted him to be like me, praising every little effort they made, and he wanted me to be more like him, and be consistent with expecting responsible behavior.  I let this become a cycle which turned into anger and frustration between me and him. I should have stepped up and been a better partner and parent, but I let myself get overwhelmed and just gave up.  For this, I apologize.  He deserved better, deserved to have more support, more acknowledgment of how much I loved and appreciated him.  My children deserved better, they deserved a mom who was more involved, prepared them better for real life, and was less wishy washy.  I am still trying to figure out how to be a better mom, and my two older children are now adults.

So, why aren’t I saying this to him in person?  I try, but I cry too much and don’t make a lot of sense.  I get defensive and desperate.  Need to get over that someday.  I still want out relationship to work out, I still would do anything for that to happen.  I know I may have ruined those chances.  You cannot take back the past, you can only move forward.  I am not perfect, neither of us are.  We have both made mistakes.  I still believe however, that we are the very best people to parent our daughter.  No one will ever love her as much as we do, and I still feel that is something worth fighting for.

My oldest daughter is chronically ill.  She has been seriously ill since 2001, when she was diagnosed with IBD.  It took several years for it to be determined that it was ulcerative colitis, and not Crohns Disease.  She also eventually was diagnosed with auto-immune hepatitis and primary schlerosing cholangitis.  Neato, huh?  When you go into the emergency room with a problem related to these diseases, most staff have never even heard of them.  As a side effect of these G.I. related diseases, she has other problems such as Sjogrens Syndrome, Celiac disease and Osteoperosis.  She is now 20 years old.  She has had more procedures, blood draws, and hospitalizations than anyone I have ever met.  When she was 17, she suffered a compression fracture in her back.  Someday, she will probably need a liver transplant.  In all probability, she will not be able to have children.  She lived with an ileostomy bag for almost two years.  She just had the third part of her j-pouch takedown done on March 27th.  Tonight, she is at the emergency room.  My mind is racing, my worst fear is always that the surgery isn’t taking, and she will have to have her bag again.  Without going into personal details, it could be a tear somewhere, a general infection, general dehydration or pouchitis (an infection of the bag, which would necessitate a trip to UCSF).  Tonight, she will undergo blood draws, invasive things involving her bottom, and who knows what else.  I will sit at home with the baby and worry until I find out what is going on.  I wish I could be there, but I have a baby at home that needs me too.

People do not really understand what it is like to have a child this ill.  They don’t see it.  They see this:

My dauther is NOT defined by her illness

What people do not see, is all the internal effects of these illnesses.  They have never seen blood drawn from her veins that came out black because she was so dehydrated.  They have not seen the bone density scans, showing the bones of an elderly woman on a 17 year old.  People do not read about the effects of these diseases, about the chronic fatigue, the constant chronic pain, the depression, inability to sleep and the lack of self esteem caused by medications and symptoms.  They don’t understand what she must have felt being told that she would probably face infertility, and should see a geneticist (not only to see what diseases she could pass on to her children, but what other auto-immune disorders she is probably going to get).  I can’t tell you how many times I have seen rolled eyes when she is really ill, or when she gets the energy to actually go out and have fun.  READ ABOUT THESE DISEASES BEFORE YOU JUDGE MY DAUGHTER.  Most people with just one or two of these conditions have difficulty getting by day to day, she has more than most medical professionals have seen in one person.  Her brother mocks her openly, men I have dated look down at her as lazy or taking advantage of me.  If it were your child, if you were halfway educated, you would understand.  Even when I have been in a committed relationship, for the past five years I have been alone in this.  For a mother of a child with needs, you are met with skepticism and jealousy of your time, no one understands the importance of your role as mother. It becomes wearing to have to justify every emergency room visit, every choice that is made.   I pray these men never see their children experience illness like this.  I worry every day that Troll Baby may inherit my family curse (aunts, cousins, so many women in my family have auto-immune disorders).

I am thankful every day for my daughter.  Sometimes, I let the frustration and worry seep through.  Will we have money for gas, do you really have to go to the ER now?  I am not proud of those moments, yet I have to acknowledge that I am only human.  I appreciate the love she has given her siblings, the support she gave me as I went to school.  I am so proud of her for making the honor roll every year of high school, despite averaging 30 absences a year.  She is a remarkable human being.

I wish I had someone who understood.  Mama2, you are a blessing and an exception, as are you Ash.  Everyone else who has been critical, reluctant to self-educate, lacking in compassion, you can kiss my ass.  I am strong, and I am my daughters best advocate.  I have spent countless nights in emergency rooms, hospitals, gotten on first name basis with more medical staff than I care to.  I have flirted with the records guy at UCSF to print out the hundreds of pages of records I needed for SSI (for free – sometime showing a little cleavage helps).  I have lived on the free cereal, coffee, sandwiches and bananas on the hepatology ward in the Children’s hospital for days, because cafeteria food cost too much. I will gladly donate my liver, if she needs it before I get too old.  I am not complaining, I would do this all again in a heartbeat… for any of my children.  I hope someday I have a man by my side that will take the time to understand.  I hope if Troll Baby ever gets sick, I will have someone there who cares as much as I do.

Now, we all know that children hate to share.  One of the things they hate to share most is you.  They are jealous of every moment of your time, every asset they perceive to belong to you, of your home and their space.  When you are in a relationship, this becomes readily apparent, as any single parent knows.  And, as anyone who has attempted to cobble together a blended family, it becomes a real nightmare.  Today I saw something new… Today I experienced how a toddler reacts when their parents attempt to renew a relationship.  As I posted last night, I have a real need for emotional support, a real need to just have a little time with my ex as we sort things out, as I try and determine what lies ahead.  God bless him, he tried today.  I sat down on the couch and just dissolved into his lap for a few precious moments of unwinding and tears, only to be attacked by a troll who didn’t like what was going on.

Now, I understand where she is coming from.  The usual routine is that I walk in the door, Dad (or whoever is watching her) walks out, and she becomes the center of attention.  She gets to nurse and cuddle before I move on to the tasks ahead.  Today however, that routine was shifted, and she was pissed.  I tried to nurse her, give her time to transition. She would nurse a bit, then wander off, but as soon as Dad and I relaxed again, she would be climbing back on us, butting in like a baby goat.  After clambering on top of us, she cried and tried to kick us apart.  Doesn’t do much for the adult emotional connection, and it hurt that she is starting to see what was our family unit becoming a threat to how she perceives her life should be.  I always knew that if I dated again, this would probably be the reaction, I never anticipated it would happen just trying to be with her dad.

I think maybe I should have waited, nursed her first, let her get bored and wander off before I addressed sitting with her dad.  However, I knew he was tired, and I only had a little bit of time to try and squeeze in with him before he would be walking out the door.  It is difficult when you don’t know from one day to the next what the day will bring, and today I really needed to be held.  It helped, and hopefully this weekend I will be able to spend some time with him, and our baby too, so we can work on rebuilding our emotional and family connection.  Hopefully, someday our time together is happy again.

So Happy Together...

I have been accused of being overly independent, of projecting an image of someone who doesn’t need anyone else.   Babe (because that’s who I still feel you are..), get real.  It’s not rejecting your offers of help, it’s just that as a technically single mom, I have to think ahead.  I would much rather have the luxury of knowing you will be there to do these things you offer, but I can’t make that assumption.  I have had to be independent, care for my family without depending on a man’s help, for so long that it comes second nature.  I just need you in ways other than just home repairs and lunch deliveries (although it is greatly appreciated).  I don’t really need you to bring me my frozen lunches to work… Most days lately, I haven’t much appetite, so I am slowly building up a backlog of lunch supplies.  The fact that I had someone else fix the stove burners wasn’t a personal affront.  I just know you are tired and wanted to save you the worry…

Trust me, I need your help… I need your presence.  A shoulder to cry on, someone to hold me close and tell me goodnight.  This is what I need from you.  I appreciate the gallons of milk, I know you are trying your best with these things, to make sure “we” are taken care of.  Maybe I am selfish, but I want you.  I want the last kiss of the night to come from your lips, the last words I hear be “I love you.”  (I don’t think you trust me enough to utter those words again… I can wait).  I want to reach over and feel your presence at night.  I want to be the person who does this for you, let my touch be on your mind as you fall asleep.   I know you aren’t in a place where you are ready to give me this all the time, but I need just a little of you.  I need somebody to hold me.  I need somebody to love.  I need somebody to love me.  I know there will come a time when I know it is either yes or know with us.  When I think of facing that eventuality, I become sick to my stomach.  As great as this has been for my figure, it is wearing me down inside.  I don’t want to reach the point where I give up again.  I also don’t want to face starting over with someone else… Find that man who is not only good enough for me, but good enough for our daughter.  I know that there is somebody out there to hold me, to be there by my side as I raise K and Troll Baby. I hope we can learn how to bring us together so that man is you.

All week long, I have felt a cold poking around, trying to get past my defenses.  I thought I was winning the battle, and then today I woke up to a scratchy throat, gunk to be coughed up and a throbbing sinus headache. Probably the same thing that the babies dad has been off work with this week. Good karma for him, he finally seems recovered today…

Well, no such luck (rest) for me.  My oldest daughter has been in the hospital all week, and is having surgery tomorrow.  She is finally, nearly two years after having her colon removed, getting surgery to remove her ostomy bag and have a functioning butt again.  This is huge, she is so excited, it has been a huge struggle to get her healthy enough to complete this surgery cycle.  I am so happy to see the end of this 3-part surgical process.  Tonight, I am pounding the maximum strength mucinex, tylenol and ibuprofen (tomorrow too) so that the drive to San Francisco Children’s Hospital will be bearable.

BTW, did I mention my step-mom had a heart attack last week?  Yeppers.  She is in Pleasanton, battling recovery from a heart attack, pneumonia and problems with her transplanted kidney from the dye they used to check the damage to her heart.  So, while my daughter is in surgery in San Francisco, I will be stopping in Pleasanton to get the scoop on my step-mom, hopefully get numbers for the social worker, and all that other stuff.  Then, race off to UCSF to get there in time to talk to the surgeon when he finishes reconnecting my daughters plumbing.  Then, tomorrow night, drive back home again.  Sunday, the weather is supposed to be nice, so I am hoping to push through this sinus crap and get a chance to take the little kids to the zoo, enjoy a family day.