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Beach May 09 035I am a mother.  As fate would have it I have a 1 year old son from a man who is not a part of my sons life. I could be sad, and I have been. I could be angry but I’ve made peace with it. I could be judgmental and frustrated and overwhelmed…but instead I choose to feel blessed.

Before I was a mother there was so much I didn’t know about the world.  There were so many beautiful things that went unseen by my blinded eyes.  The moment that my son was born my life changed.  There are those who will say it’s not possible, those who will criticize me for having an occasional glass of wine because  ‘Mother’s shouldn’t drink’.  There are those who will chastise me for dating

4th of july 045because they don’t think I should have the time.  Surely there will be those who will say that my dreams of having a family in my future are absurd and I should be happy with where I am in life now.

None of that matters to me, because I am smart enough to have a sip of wine not a bottle of liquor. I have the intelligence to separate a one time thing from a genuine partner.  I feel confidant knowing that I dreamt of a family long before my son was born and will continue to seek that dream with caution for his sake.  Yes, there are always those who will criticize; but none can judge me, not truly judge me because that is only God’s place.

Here are some things I’ve learned as a mother:

*Friends will come and go like a summer storm, but your family is forever.pnut bday

*The sunrise is much more beautiful when you see it sober as you nurse your newborn.

*Having a child is not a right, it is a gift from God and should be treated accordingly.

*God never gives you more than you can handle, but be careful what you ask for.

*Rocking a sleepy baby till 2 in the morning beats dancing the night away at the best night club any day.

*Nothing lasts forever, including teething so patience is a must 🙂

*Bath time also doubles as a trip to the water park so bring your own towel.

*You can in fact survive on 3 hours of sleep and still function with a smile.

peanutbday*Spaghetti is a MUST when a toddler is learning how to eat because it’s just funny to watch them get MESSY

*TODDLERS WILL EAT CATERPILLARS if they find the opportunity no matter how fuzzy and yucky they look.

*A simple smile can warm your heart and take all pain away.

*Mommy’s arms always feel the safest and must be available at all times.

*It’s impossible not to laugh when you’re running late and about to walk out the door, only to find your toddler half naked and tangled in his Tshirt in his room.

Easter 2009 044*Brushing your teeth, sweeping the floor and doing laundry are always done better with help from your toddler.

*Being a single parent doesn’t mean you have to be alone.

*A mother always thinks about everything twice – once for herself and again for her child.

*Reading a story or dancing in the living room trumps housework.

*God never said being a mother would be easy, but he did say it would be worth it.

*Every stretch mark is like a war wound, they will forever tell the story of your greatest accomplishment so you should be proud.

*A ponytail and a track suit are a mother’s best friend on rainy days – high heels in the rain with a baby are not a good idea.

*When you go to bed realizing you didn’t turn the TV on all day – that is a good day.

I think what I’ve learned most of all is that nothing matters except my family.  My Son, my mother, my sisters, my father, my grandparents, Aunts, Uncles and Cousins are my life.  Welcoming my J and little B into that mix is just another momentous memory that I feel blessed and eager to add, but until that day – for right now I live for my son and for God.  To me, there is no greater purpose.

End Thought:  It’s not only children who grow.  Parents do too.  As much as we watch to see what our children do with their lives, they are watching us to see what we do with ours.  I can’t tell my children to reach for the sun.  All I can do is reach for it, myself. ” ~Joyce Maynard

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Seriously?

The Jerk visited for Father’s day weekend, Saturday while I was bound for Alabama taking home the little Sis, he came. My mom was there with my Peanut – at my house where visitation is supposed to take place – and oversaw the visitation. She said it went well, that he was nice, that he cried when Peanut said “dada”…Whatever was my reply. I don’t have sympathy for him, why should I? Just because he’s realized he’s a jerk and now a year later decides he wants to be a part of the Peanut’s life (for now anyway) I am supposed to cater to his sudden case of conscious??

I don’t think so.

I figured – ok – it’s not the first time he’s done a 180 and it undoubtedly won’t be the last. My walls are standing strong and my new I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude is firmly intact. I’m cold and callous – he can’t get to me. He used to be able to break down my walls only because they were paper thin out of sheer anxiety and fear of retaliation if I didn’t relent; but now I’m not afraid anymore. Now I have love and support from my family and my J.

So as usual, just in time for my new attitude of insensitivity – I get a random text.

“Just wanted you to know I’m in jail.”

It’s the Jerk. I stared at it blankly – if this were any other time I would have balled my eyes out feeling guilty. Oh no, not this time.

“Well it wasn’t me”

I replied – knowing I hadn’t received a letter saying that we had court. It was his other disgruntled baby momma – with which he has 2 children (ages 3 and 6) that he visits on a regular basis – that jailed him this time. This would be the SAME baby momma that called my cell phone as I’m sporting a ring on my left hand and a newly developing fetus courtesy of The Jerk several months into our relationship (aka HELL ON EARTH), to inform me that I’ve been living with her husband and that she is JUST NOW filing for divorce. UM, EXCUSE ME???? Yeah that’s a totally different story though so I’ll delve more into that later.

Moving on….The Jerk replies:

I know, just wanted you to know I was in here.”

Why? As if I am supposed to care? Well I don’t care – I don’t care that he’s in jail, I don’t care if he gets out, I don’t care if gets butt humped by his cellmate in his sleep I. DON’T. CARE.  I can’t care. I just flat out can’t. I don’t have the ability anymore.

Thus I’m writing this as an epiphany because I’ve decided to take the advice of the strong women I’ve on PNN and Twitter and let it go. It’s such an uplifting feeling, I feel freed of chains I’ve carried since I met the Jerk that regretted summer day 2 years ago. So in the midst of my F***-THAT-JERK-I- FEEL-AWESOME high I get this text:

“I still love you.”

* * * * * * * * * * *<—-that is silence – stunned, paralyzed, unrelenting silence. You have got to be kidding me. I mean SERIOUSLY?!?

Honestly, it pissed me off for a second. HOW DARE YOU EVEN TRY THAT SHIT WITH ME YOU SORRY WASTE OF OXYGEN!!! But then I took the advice of my girls and took a deep breath and then I laughed until I cried. I laughed the longest jovial laugh I had within my body and then I laughed some more. I didn’t even bother to reply to the incompetent fool.

I don’t care and I certainly DO NOT love him, hell I don’t even like him and it takes all the effort I have to tolerate him. I never did really love him now that I think about it I mean I THOUGHT I loved the guy he pretended to be. That fabrication that he created without an ounce of remorse. The real him is a complete stranger to me.  Therefore I just don’t care, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

I realized today that it’s over – that jackass doesn’t have a hold on me even though I have a son that shares in some of his genetics that doesn’t give him the right to make my life miserable forever and I control how he affects me. I have a great life now;  me, the Peanut, My J and little B – we are happy and no one can touch that. Especially not the Jerk.
End thought: “Through weakness I found friends, but it is through friends that I found strength.” -Me

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There have been so many moments where I’ve flip flopped from one side of this to the other.  Those who read my blog see where I’ve been torn into pieces over what to do about The Jerk.  One minute I’d give my every breath to have a father for my son, not just any father, but his real father; to give him that father-son bond that cannot be duplicated because he deserves that – all children deserve to have a their mother and father.  Only it wouldn’t be his real father I would want, I would want the person that he pretended to be, in my son’s life. I would want the pretend him, the one who loved his children more than the moon and the sky, the man who doted on them and couldn’t wait to see their smiling faces, the fabrication The Jerk so easy created until one day it disappeared into a disgusting and worthless pile of anger and abuse.  It is because of that day that there are times that I actually pray that God will make him leave for good; no more of this back and forth.  Just go away and let my Peanut live in peace.  I don’t know which is worse him being around or him leaving for good?

Ms. Cookie (Peanut’s teacher) handed me a little piece of construction paper today…on it a sail boat with Peanut’s hand print as the sail.  It read “I’d sail the seven seas for you Daddy. I love you! Happy Fathers Day” all I could was smile and utter a choked Thank you with tears in my eyes.  I thought to myself:

if only he would do the same for you son…..

She looked at me as if she knew, with eyes that said I’m sorry.  I kissed my Peanut and said goodbye, I waited till I reached my car to cry.  It was a quiet cry not the violent kind.  The kind of cry where you’ve given this moment all the energy that you can muster long before now and this is just a repeat of times past. The kind of cry where there are no sobs, no tightened muscles – no it was the kind of cry where every ounce of energy left me as I sat defeated in my car tears streaming down my face and off my chin saturating my shirt.   I’ve been here before, crying all alone not knowing what to wish now just hoping God will lead me in what is right for my son. God please, I prayed I don’t know what to do…just please help me be the best for him. I feel like my hands are tied….

Suddenly my phone rings….it’s The Jerk. I stared at my phone blankly…what could I do? If I ignore it he’ll just call back over and over again till I answer.  So I answer…he’s coming to visitation he says.  I’m emotionless. I wanted to scream in the phone I hate you for what you’ve done to my life, to my son’s life! instead I just said “Ok” and hung up the phone.  I wanted to be angry, to say he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve my Peanut’s love.  Then at the same time – I thought maybe I should be happy that he actually wants to see my son – his son technically.  I don’t know how to feel right now.

It’s bittersweet….

One one hand my son deserves to have his father – but on the other his father is worthless and can’t be the father he deserves.  He’ll come to visitation and play for a while, he’ll leave and probably not see him for another 6 months.  Will my Peanut know the difference?  In the back of mind I’ll be wishing he would leave, that he would say he’s moving to California or Australia and never coming back.  But that’s my selfishness speaking, or is it?  Could it just be that I feel the pain for my son, that I sympathize with the hurt and confusion that will come when he realizes his father is only around out of convenience? 

There is no right answer for this moment.  I know there won’t be some divine intervention where God gives me the answer that will solve everything, no only time can fix this.  I’ll just have to smile through the bittersweet moment and wish that I had given my son a better father, a father who would love and care for him, a father who would never hurt or abandon him.  I’ll own that moment, because it is mine.  I’ll take responsibility for the tears because it’s my fault that they fall; because I chose to be with him,  I chose to stay in the chaos,  I chose to live with the abuse.

It’s oh so bittersweet, because although I want to hate him and wish we’d never met, I thank God that I endured the things I did, because it brought me my son.  No matter what happens I will always be grateful to God for that.

End thought: “When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts.  A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.”  ~Sophia Loren, 

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Father’s Day

I’m crying today, because of him – again – him being The Jerk. Only it’s not because he’s hurt me, no he hasn’t hurt me this time … instead he resorts to hurting my son.

Father’s day is coming up, the worst day of the year for me since my son has been born.  I dread it, the day I’m supposed to celebrate The Jerk being a father..which he hasn’t been since the get go.  How do I celebrate someone who has seen his child twice since birth…I hate him.  I’m so angry that I can’t help but cry…which makes me even angrier because I’m crying over him again and it makes me sick that he has the ability to put hurt into our lives long after he has gone.   Why is it that he is granted that right? Why should he be allowed to do this over and over?

What’s worse is I know that The Peanut’s daycare will probably create a father’s day gift to send home.  It’s not their fault; they don’t know he doesn’t have a Daddy.  They’ll probably paint his little hands and feet, tickling his tiny toes with the paint brush while he throws his head back and giggles.  He’ll reach down and grab his toes and smile with those bright blue eyes shining just like the jack***es that I refer to as his so-called father.
They’ll put those beautiful little hand and foot prints on a paper – probably with a poem celebrating fatherhood, and all I will be able to do is smile when I pick him up and muster a thank you.  But really, I’ll cry because it will never go to him.  No instead I’ll stick it in a shoe box in the back of my closet along with all the pictures and any remaining memories of The Jerk – until the day that he can prove he can be a real father if the day ever comes.  Not the person who stops by once a year the day before mother’s day just to make his lock lizard fiance mad by visiting his 1 year old genetically bound spawn.  

My poor baby.

I lock those things up in that closet because The Jerk doesn’t deserve for my son to know who he is, to have his photo around the house as a constant reminder of the father that he isn’t – just to haunt my son in spirit. It’s not fair and I won’t do it.

Amazing how a text can remind you of how much and why you hate someone. The Jerk texts me to ask if I’ve received my child support.

Yes I did.

Taking the opportunity, I ask if he plans to attend visitation for Father’s Day (knowing that the answer is probably no which is fine with me. He doesn’t deserve to be celebrated anyway).  Instead of coming up with an answer I would expect, as usual he replies with complete ignorance and obliviousness that astounds even me – the person with the least amount of faith in him:

“When is it?”

…..my first thought was are you freaking kidding me? He doesn’t even know when Father’s Day is???….that’s what kind of father he is.  Something that small sent me into a rage…it was like he had abandoned my son all over again.  I wanted to scream…to tell him how lousy and worthless he was as a father.  How I wanted more than anything for him to fall off the face of the earth and never be seen again.  How miserable of a human being I thought he was to just walk away from the creation of life that was my son – leaving a void I could never properly fill inside him no matter what I gave.  Knowing that I would give my arms, my legs, my breath, my heart, my entire life just to give my son the life he deserves. A  life that would never need a father…the life I know I can’t give and it kills me.

But instead I cried…I cried because it was my fault that he would never have that. That I chose a man that could never love anything but himself….and I’ve never felt more remorse in my life. It’s my fault….how do you tell your child that without them hating you too?

So I replied telling him to forget it, that the Peanut wouldn’t notice whether he was there or not anyway. I wanted to tell him that my J would be there, and he would play with the Peanut and love him just as if he were his Dad and the Peanut would never know the difference. But I didn’t because I couldn’t, I couldn’t be that girl even though I wanted to.  And what does he say in all my despair?….
”Well I didn’t know, I don’t keep up with it.”  I don’t keep up with it ? That’s the best you’ve got you rotten son of a *****!!!!

It just deepened my rage. My face was on fire, hot tears stinging my eyes. I hate him I said over and over in my head till it was the only thought on my brain I hate him.

So father’s day will come and go, with my son none the wiser.  He won’t know his father isn’t there, and in all reality he won’t care.   He won’t care because he doesn’t know him, because he won’t know him. Until the day comes that the world informs him that he’s missing a parent he’ll never know. Then and only then will I step in to explain….and I can only hope that God will give me the words. Right now, the only words I have stem from hate and the Peanut deserves much more than that from me.  I have to let my anger fade with time and be the bigger person, for my Peanut.  Because he deserves that, because he deserves better and it’s up to me to see to it that he gets that.

End thought: “Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged.” Colossians 3:21

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No, not really…it’s more like I wish I fell off the face of the Earth.  My Peanut is sick, my face is peeling, we’ve been experiencing Amazon rain forest weather for over a week and the Jerk is yet again back on the daddy wagon. So yes, I can only wish I had fallen off the face of the Earth.

Face peel: Although it sounds like I had some nice gentle pampering micro-derm face peel, the reality of my peeling face is much less glamorous. My office took a trip to the beach – which they commonly like to refer to as the annual Booze Cruise. To date it’s been home to many moments that are better suited for the NBC hit show “The Office”. For example two years back my supervisor drank an entire bottle of jager alone and attempted to help out a single dad that worked in the programming department by trying to ‘hook him up’. So he starts drunk dialing all of the “sluts” that he knows and accidentally dials his wife….. Keep in mind he is EXTREMELY wasted and therefore is not exactly speaking in an inside voice – and we’re on a bus. That trip was lovingly deemed the “Slut Tirade” and he is no longer allowed to drink jager…ever.

So you can imagine I wasn’t exactly excited to be a part of this for yet another year, but hey…it’s free booze, free food and a day at the beach when I should be working – what’s the harm right? Well I’ll tell you what the harm is a UV danger rating of 10 for the East Coast and me without a drop of sun block. I got F – R – I – E – D….so fried that I made a crunch sound when I walked like I was stepping on a bag of potato chips. Now I look like a lizard during shedding season…yuck.    Moving on…

The Peanut: So upon return from the office beach bake-a-thon I was just happy to see my Peanut again. It was a typical evening: dinner, bath, playtime and then a quiet lullaby in the rocking chair before a kiss goodnight in the crib….my bed felt so nice because I was SSOOOO tired and ready for a good long nights rest. THEN 4am wake up call, I thought, hm he must have dropped his paci.  So I stumble through the darkness to his room and feel around for a paci, pop it back into his mouth and lean down to deliver a soothing kiss on the forehead and OMG MY LIPS WERE ON FIRE! I was thinking WTF?! I place my hand on his forehead and realize it wasn’t my lips… Instantly I rush into Mommy mode – I scoop him up – strip the pjs – lay him on the changing table and insert that hated rectal thermometer….immediately it jumps to 101.2….101.9….102.4….OMFG….102.9…and beeps at a scalding 103.1. Jesus freaking crimeny my child is on fire!!! He’s lethargic, barely able to cry….but I was doing plenty of that for both of us. I’m a first time mom, my kid has NEVER had a fever that I didn’t catch at 101.5 or below;  I wanted to kick myself and feel like a total failure but I didn’t have time. I strapped on a diaper and quickly began administering a cool washcloth to his head, turned on the ceiling fan, gave him a dose of Tylenol and prayed…thinking how do I get him to the ER by myself? I mean someone has to drive while I monitor him in the back seat!? So I called my grandmother (who lives literally less than 5 minutes from house if that) and tell her what is going on. Well on her arrival we didn’t go to the hospital, his fever let off slightly and I vowed that in 3 hours when that doctor’s office opened I’d be standing on the front step.  I laid next to him in my queen size bed, too afraid to shut my eyes, till dawn.  Boy what a weekend that followed, after a trip to the doctor the next morning, the ER Sunday morning for an uncontrollable fever (even with Tylenol AND Motrin) they up his dosage and by Tuesday we’re back to work and daycare sans the fever (THANK YOU LORD JESUS). Going about my day praising the Lord for healing my son Tuesday evening I pick up my Peanut – only to see him COVERED in a rash…are you kidding me? I mean what is this??? So we call the doc (again) and come to the final diagnosis of Roseola.

For those of you who do not know what Roseola is  it’s 2-3 days of a high fever typically 103 degrees F, decreased appetite and fussiness followed by a rash appearing on the fever decline.  Fun fun….

So to recap – I’m looking like the new spokesperson for leprosy in 2009, my poor little Peanut has an ear infection AND Roseola, the Jerk is trying to play Super Dad again (God help me) and I find out my account is overdrawn this morning. Yes, I can only wish I had the luxury of falling off the face of the Earth.

End thought: *insert clever well thought out quote here* Yeah, you get the point.

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So I made it safely back from the beach…yay….and I come home to a BADASS virus that I assume I picked up from the beach…great.  My first thought (because I’m kinda maybe a little bit of a hypochondriac) is OMG it’s the fricken SWINE FLU!!! Damn Lysol – kills 99.9% of germs my tail!  Yeah so I’m going on and on in complete hysteria sitting in the doctor’s office waiting room – updating my will – and finally they call me back.   Anyway, so there’s this nurse and she’s old, and very obviously not satisfied with the particular profession that she chose and she’s taking my temp, blood pressure, records my weight and all that fun stuff and she’s all like “So you wrote down flu-like symptoms…what makes you think you have the flu?” Seriously? Well lets see my throat is on FIRE, my ears are about to implode from all the pressure, my body aches EVERYWHERE and I mean, places I didn’t even know I had are aching, I’m coughing, I’m sneezing, I’m freezing like an Ethiopian in Antarctica one minute and the next I’m threatening to loose the shirt if someone doesn’t point a fan in my direction ASAP.  Hmm…did I mention that I feel like COMPLETE AND UTTER DOG POO??? YEAH so THAT is why I think I have the flu….Of course I didn’t say that, I just thought it…although it was one of those things that I thought about like an hour later and wished I could go back and say but then it wouldn’t make any sense and I would just look like a complete ass anyway…yeah, one of those times.  Instead I just said “Because I’m feeling flu like symptoms..” accompanied by that DUH look that I pasted all over my face obvious enough for a blind person to see.  And would you believe that woman sucked her teeth at me?!?! *GASP* So I retorted with “I’m sooo writing that on my follow up satisfaction survey.” crossed my arms and waited for the doctor.

I can’t be sure how long I was in that room, although on the survey I put like 30 minutes which in all actuality could have been true, but I wouldn’t know because I fell asleep.  And it was a DEEP SLEEP.  The OMG I just drooled on myself and I really hope the doctor doesn’t notice kind of sleep.  So when the door opened I sat up so quickly that I looked like a jack-in-the-box on crack…and for some reason that remains a mystery to me screeched “HI!” like I’d been doing something wrong. *sigh* Someone save me from myself….

So the doctor proceeds to present not one but TWO GIANT Q-tips…and I’m thinking…those better be for cleaning the sink cause those things are not coming near me.  Well they were not for cleaning the sink and I was way wrong about them not coming near me, no Giant Q-tip #1 was for my throat or should I say the bottom of my esophagus – which wasn’t so bad – however when Giant Q-tip #2 came around I start wondering …where else can a giant Q-tip like that go?? Turns out it’s the nose…if I’m lying I’m dying… they stuck a 7 inch Q-tip into my brain practically and LET IT SIT (yeah).  And I thought child birth was unbearable….I will have 3 kids before I will ever have another flu test.  I think I’d rather die from the flu than EVER do that again.  Also…I can’t be sure but I’m thinking I saw some brain matter on the end of that thing….and I’m really forgetful lately so it must have been the part where you remember stuff that they collected.  ANYWAY –

So I wait patiently for my test results while updating my myspace status to reflect my time of death from the brain dissection and that oh-so-chipper nurse pops back in…”It ain’t the flu” she squawked right before she waddled out of the room to leave space for the doctor to walk in with the diagnoses “ViraPhenyngitus”…. Like what? Yep, basically a really badass virus that he seems to think I picked up on my trip.  So let’s recap….I took off work, paid my $20 co-pay, got talked down to by a nurse twice my age and seemingly post-sex change (at least that is the drift I got from the amount of testosterone she was putting off with all that unnecessary aggression), had my brain and throat violated by giant Q-tips all to find out the very same fricken thing I knew when I walked in the door…that I felt like crap (although to be fair I was not actually dying of the swine flu)..but at least I updated my will…See? Again, there is a silver lining to every dark swine flu cloud.

So I pick up the Peanut from daycare to go home, and cover my mouth with my jacket sleeve (which is fleece and coincidentally acts as a great insultator) because it’s nap time and I want to be quiet as well as not spread my phyen-whatcha-call-it germs and I quietly say a muffled “I have viral phyengitius..” Which apparently sounds like Menengitis ” So we’ll be out for a few days” and I leave.  ALRIGHT, well turns out the director thought I said MENENGITIS which by the way is extremely deadly and contagious so they basically run through a complete biohazard drill in our absence and alert all parents that their children have possibly been exposed to Viral Menengitis…oops.  BUT in my defense… Menegitis is only detectable via a spinal tap…so it’s their own fault for thinking that ANY doctor with common sense who had just given me a spinal tap and diagnosed me with a semi-deadly virus would allow me to PICK UP MY ONE YEAR OLD SON rather than admitting me to the nearest hospital…idiots….anyway.

So two days in bed, Peanut stays with the Grands (my grandparents) and I’m feeling well enough to go back to work.  So we show up bright and early at daycare to be met with looks of SHEER TERROR! The director is FRREEAAKKKIINNGG out nearly pushing us out the door “WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK HERE!?!” And I’m like omg…I’m not contagious anymore stop freaking out…but really I said “What do you mean? Christopher isn’t sick and I’m over the worst of it?” and she is just standing there all sideways looking with her eyes like 10 seconds from popping out of her head and she’s like “What?!” so I say “It’s not big deal, the doc says I’ll be over it by Friday…I doubt I’m even contagious right now…” and she’s all “Shouldn’t you be in a hospital? I mean Menengitis is deadly?” and I’m like “WHAT? I dont’ have menengitis I have phynengitis.” – which I think is probably like a harmless twice removed cousin of Menengitis….I mean…probably…

Yeah, so we’re now safely back in daycare, Peanut does not have to wear a bubble to daycare thank goodness and all is semi-well in my world again.  Moral of the story…vacations subject you to swine flu….

End thought: Perhaps doctors should consider NOT naming the harmless twice removed cousin virus the same thing as the deadly extrememly contagious spine virus…just a thought.

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Headaches…no I’m sorry migraines have been plaguing me for 2 weeks now..every single day; and not just your typical ‘Man that sucks’ migraine no I’m talking bloodshot eyes, skull cracking pain, and nausea I’d trade for morning sickness any day.  So after toughing it out for 2 weeks I decide it’s time to see the doc.  Sitting there with my Peanut in tow (because  my doc is an hour away from where I work and with a migraine I was not driving all the way back to pick up the Peanut from daycare after seeing the doc) I wonder what matter of intellectual medical science he was going to throw at me to diagnose my pain.  He checks my temp, my blood pressure, my reflexes (what?) and gives me a quick breast cancer check – because it runs RAMPED in my family or he just wants to feel my breasts either way it’s incredibly awkward- all the while my Peanut screams at the top of his lungs at this stranger touching his Mommy from his stroller.  Ahh my little bodyguard.

So in the midst of the questions, the screaming, the way too bright light (I mean wtf? Are those like 10,000 watt bulbs or something?!) and the disgusting smell of antiseptic he says “Well, either it’s stress or your pregnant.” HOLY FREAKIN COW ARE YOU SERIOUS?!? I think to myself well if it is stress I’m definitely going to die right here and now after that comment.  Not that I’m not on the pill but after having one…there is no manner of protection that will give you that SAFE feeling (don’t look at me like that you know what I’m talking about).  So of course I’m like  TEST ME and TEST ME NOW!  Well I’m not pregnant (Thank you God Thank you God Thank you GOD!) Not that I don’t love my Peanut with all my heart and my J is and would be a wonderful father, I’m just SOOOO not ready for even THINKING about that step in our lives…Anyway..

Alright, so it’s stress.  He says “Maybe you should get out more, do some things without the baby.” Riiggghhttt…because it’s just that easy. So I huff and puff and beg for any kind of pill he could give me that could work magic and make it all better.  Of course there wasn’t one and he was looking at me all sideways like I was a drug seeker or something..whatever. *insert eye rolling* His prescription?  Pawn my kid of on a babysitter and ‘get out of the house’ or ‘find a hobby’.  You know..with doctors out there prescribing this kind of treatment it’s no wonder to me that we have Casey Anthonys in the world (UGH) don’t get me started….why is it that everyone is encouraging me to NOT be a Mom??

There I was, told by my medical professional that the stress of being a single parent (the greatest accomplishment in my life by the way) was making  me physically ill. How do you combat that?  Was I that big of failure as a parent that i needed to vacation from my son?  The idea made me even sicker…so I just sat down on the floor and cried.  Then out of nowhere in the middle of playing with his trucks…the Peanut stood up walked over to me and hugged me.  It was long hug, the kind where he just wrapped his little arms around me, rested his head on my shoulder and patted me with his tiny little fingers… and for a minute nothing else in the word mattered.  It didn’t matter that I was overwhelmed at work, that my boss could be an arrogant jerk, it didn’t matter that my family was in turmoil or that my Mom was never there when I needed her….all that mattered was that moment when my son in his only 1 year of life was able to educate me more than my 80 year old doctor.  All I needed was my Peanut.  It was then that I decided I didn’t need a vacation, we needed a vacation.  So I loaded up the car and headed to the beach.

Beach May 09 049The Peanut (being the little light of my life that he is) slept the entire way, which gave Mommy some much needed reflection time.  I call it interstate therapy…the music going the sun shining down, nothing but road ahead of me.  I had time to get my mind straight, to distinguish between what I wanted to do in life and what I needed to do in life.  I realized that sometimes you just have to let the little things go.  Like I may not get the living room cleaned up before bed like I want, sometimes work is going to have to wait, and when it comes to family troubles you just have to pray and give those troubles to God – ultimately you have to learn to just let go…so that I can spend some much needed quality time with my Peanut.  I learned a lot during ‘therapy’ this weekend but what I learned most of all is while my house may not be spotless, my work may fall behind and I may not always have my Mom to turn to – I will always have my Peanut and that is what matters most of all.

End thought:  “The moment that a child is born, the mother is also born.  She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new.” -Rajneesh

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