I just noticed the other day that my dear friend Delores has written a blog post! How exciting after almost seven months of silence… almost as long as her pregnancy… hmmm… I know I don’t have any room to talk with my long bouts of silence myself so I’ll move on…
Delores writes about her recent experience as a surrogate mommy and the reaction that she has received from other people… I’m guessing that these people are mostly women since we can be the most bitchy to each other. Men don’t usually get away with nasty comments, side looks, or the such without some sort of repercussion.
I delivered that baby. “That” baby. Not my baby. My babies aren’t much in the way of babies anymore. She’s just “that” baby. Or “the” baby if you will. I don’t feel anything for her. In my mind, that’s exactly how it should be. I’ve discussed this a great deal lately. I don’t have any issues, lingering feelings, longings for a child that isn’t mine. So why are people looking at me like THAT is wrong? I’m being handled with extra care because I had to give up a child. I didn’t give up anything. I was simply a tool used for the purpose of creating a family. Sounds very factory made but it’s not an ugly thing. It’s a wonderful thing that I could be useful in such an endeavor. I’m proud of what I’ve done. I just don’t think I need to lend emotions where none are required. Not for me. I have my children. I love my children and would break you in two if you tried to hurt them.
First off… I am always happy for any woman who is able to grow a child inside of her for nine months and deliver it successfully. I’m not sure I have a lot of friends that have gone through multiple pregnancies but it does get more difficult each time. So… BRAVO Delores!! Job well done! And kudos to your ever fertile uterus!
As a sidenote… I am super jealous that you got to be pregnant for nine months, suck up all the attention of being pregnant, and then after delivering you didn’t have all of those tedious midnight feedings or higher car insurance when he/she turns 16. You got to have your cake and eat it too! AWESOME! (if only my eggs weren’t so old and withered… sigh)
Don’t ever let anyone make you feel emotionally inferior… What you are feeling is completely natural… After all, they psych tested you beforehand, right?? There isn’t something “wrong” with you because you aren’t emotionally attached to a child that was never yours.
You are a life giver!! And I think you are special… and not in a tardy kinda way…
I know I haven’t posted in quite some time… partly because I’ve just been plain TOO BUSY to sit down and write… but I’ve come to realize that I honestly need this place to just vent sometimes… But that’s not really what this post is about… It’s more of a “let’s get back into the swing of things, shall we?” post… You see… I’ve been away for so long that I’m afraid I’ve forgotten how to write?!? Thank goodness for Plinky.com who kindly sends me some writing prompts each week to choose from… This ought to kick me in the pants, right?
What’s the biggest factor for you in deciding where to live?
Back before I had children, there really wasn’t a biggest factor at all. After enlisting in the Air Force, I traveled to a few states including Texas, South Carolina and Arizona without really thinking about where I would settle down. After I had Jimmy and moved back to Maryland, I started thinking about where I wanted the kids to grow up. Granted… finances didn’t always afford me the opportunity to live where I wanted to live but I was able to stay in the country where the schools were small and families looked out for each other.
After Ahole left and I met B, I moved to Wilmington which was an absolutely incredible step for me. Moving away from family and into a larger city had mixed results. Moving away from my family didn’t really make any difference at all since we never really frequented each others doorsteps to begin with… so no great loss or gain there… However, there was a definite difference in scholastic results with regards to the children. The oldest immediately benefited since the city offered him a much larger opportunity for transitioning education for those that are mentally handicapped. The second born didn’t fair so well and chose to start hanging with a “rougher crowd”, skipping school and smoking dope… he eventually moved in with his dad instead… The girls started school in what is termed a “feeder school” where they ended up the only children of their color and ended up tops in their classes even though they weren’t doing so well academically compared to their peers elsewhere…
It was over the summer that I decided to move the family back to the country and I haven’t had one regret since… In fact, even though I’ve had a few job opportunities outside of this area AND I work almost an hour from my home, I still wouldn’t move from this area for the simple fact that the girls are so very happy where they are… Their academic success is my biggest deciding factor in staying where I am right now. I love the house I live in even if it isn’t quite big enough for everyone. I love the neighborhood that we are located in… everyone looks out for each other and I know that I don’t have to worry that the girls will get attacked if they walk outside. I love the school district… they truly care about the kids and really push parents to stay active participants in the learning process… And I promised the girls I wouldn’t move them out of the school district for the next ten years…
I totally do not understand people who blog and then have their comments locked down so tight that you have to log into three different accounts just to leave a comment.
I totally wanted to leave a comment on this woman’s blog even if it was to just let her know I had been there.
I totally think that if you don’t allow lots of people to comment on your posts, don’t bitch when you don’t get any comments.
I totally think I was cool enough to comment.
I totally will steer clear of her blog from this point forward… after all, if I took the time to read it and CAN’T comment, what’s the point?
I recently finished reading American Wife: A Novel by Curtis Sittenfeld which was recommended to me by my coworker, Sarah. The book itself is a fictionalized characterization loosely based on Laura Bush. To pretend otherwise is just ludicrous as many of the obstacles that Alice, the main character, face mirror those that have happened in Mrs. Bush’s own life. From a car accident that killed a high school friend to her husband’s presidency being scrutinized for engaging in a war that could have been avoided.
The actual courtship between Alice (Laura) and her future husband, Charlie (George) was especially difficult for me. I found his character to be endearing and honest at times and it was increasingly hard for me to detach my hatred towards the real Mr. Bush and succumb to this new creature that was sweeping Alice up. After marrying him only a few months after meeting, I wasn’t the least bit surprised to learn about his ignorance, bad boy ways, DWI charge, and her eventual trial separation from him. It was also difficult for me to accept the way that she went back to him after he “found God”. It was almost as if you could feel her resignation about her marriage. It wasn’t that she thought she couldn’t do better… It wasn’t that she thought she was wrong and should move on… It was that she had made a promise to this man to be his wife forever and she was going to fulfill that promise no matter what.
At times, it wasn’t easy distinguishing between fact or fiction throughout the book. I’d like to think that her feelings at the end of the story are real… the resignation of realizing you can never really have what you want… understanding that your husband isn’t exactly what you thought he would be but not having the energy to do anything about it… but also recognizing that morally you have done the best you could with what you had to work with… A little sad but not disappointing.
My bloggy friend, Jenners recently wrote about an awkward moment she had at Goodwill and I promised her I would share a goody from my past dealings with Goodwill. After Ahole left, I started cleaning out all the old stuff in my life. It was my time for a fresh start and I wanted things to be orderly, organized and secretly I just wanted to make sure I got rid of all of his shit so it wouldn’t haunt me later in life. Little did I know that would be impossible unless I got rid of the kids too. I have a horrible time just throwing stuff out especially if they are clothes or books and still in excellent condition. I’ve only met one person worse than me and that’s Mr. McD. He won’t even throw out socks when the elastic is shot in them…
I spent days going through boxes of old clothes, closets stuffed full of old coats and shoes, and dressers bulging at their wooden joints. I packaged up well over ten trash bags full of clothes and other miscellaneous items. And I don’t mean the cutesy white kitchen bags… I’m talking the big honking lawn and leaf brown trash bags. I even splurged and got the ones that with the extra stretch to them so I wouldn’t have to worry about a stray tap shoe falling out of the bottom while travelling to Goodwill to drop off my treasures. Which brings to me a minor dilemma… I didn’t have a car… How was I going to get all of that stuff to Goodwill?
Luckily, a friend from church offered to pick up the bags and take them with him as he just happened to work at Goodwill… Coincidence? Or act of God? I didn’t care… I was saying goodbye to stuff that was cluttering up my house… He stopped over after church that Sunday and picked up all of the bags.
After church the next Sunday, he asked me out on a date. Surely… I was up for anything that would get me out of the house and socialize with another adult for a while. While we were on the date, he mentioned the trash bags and said that he would get a receipt for everything so I could use the tax deduction. I told him not to bother with it as I was just doing my good deed and didn’t expect a reward.
Then he asked me if I liked to dress in lingerie often… ummmmm… WTF? Apparently, he was the one that untied the trash bags and came across the “play lingerie” that I had been keeping since before the boys were even born… Hot little corsets with lacy fringes… thigh high fishnet stockings… sheer gloves that ride up to your elbows and aren’t for any sanitary purpose at all… I think there might have even been a pair of crotchless panties or two… not sure… I was mortified… We laughed it off as best as we could but now I look back and think “I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!!” The gentleman who worked at Goodwill and picked up my bags was none other than Mr. ILiketoWearWomensLingerie Facebook Creep.
In case you have ever wondered what type of conversations go on in my house… here’s a quick snippet from a recent car drive:
Steven: You’re stupid Beth.
Beth: You’re so stupid that you’ll live with your mom forever. You’ll be in your thirties and still living with mom.
Abby: Like Dad!
Melanie: Yes… like dad… Except Stevie is mentally retarded and has an excuse.
Those of you who know me know that I hate certain months of the year. February is one of them. October happens to be another one. When I was little, I was never really allowed to go trick-or-treating like other kids. Not that I complained because I never understood the whole “gimme candy” thing in the first place. My mom would make my costumes for the Halloween parade at school. At night, my grandparents and I would retire to the back of the house and make sure all of the front lights were turned off so we wouldn’t have to deal with obnoxious children interrupting our television time… a tradition I continued through my young adulthood.
When the boys were little, I decided to do better. I stayed up one mischief night creating the most awesome penguin costumes ever! (if my scanner worked I would show you the actual picture of a proud little Stevie in his penguin outfit but this other adorable kid will have to do) I even made the feet from scratch by dying three sets of tube socks orange, stuffing them and making cute webbed feet that would slide over their real shoes. Not one word of thanks was uttered from the beaks of penguins that Halloween. Not that I really expected it anyway…
Then came Ahole… Our Halloween “tradition” was for Ahole to either stay home or drive in a car around the neighborhood while drinking liquor to warm his belly. My most miserable Helloween was spent walking three children and pushing a fourth in a stroller through Dogwood Village in Galena. By the end of the trip, I was actually carrying one on my back, pushing a stroller AND yelling at the boys that trick-or-treating was OVER and I had to pee so bad my eyeballs were floating somewhere above my head. The worst part is Ahole and the car were nowhere to be found… I think I might have ended up with wet underwear that night but it’s quite possible that has been blocked from my memory.
Suffice it to say, Halloween has never been one of my favorite holidays. Mr. McD is fanatical about it… yes, it’s a source of contention for me this month… We’ll see if I last through it… I’ve been trying hard to stick to the “traditions” that I enjoy about this time of year. Carving jack-o-lanterns is one of these traditions. The best part is toasted pumpkin seeds! Here are our creations for this year:
Abby's Pumpkin ~ She cut it all by herself!
Beth's awesome monster pumpkin
Mommy's Outstanding Bat pumpkin
I know… I’ve been bad and haven’t blogged in two weeks. I don’t know how it happens. I get super busy at work and just sort of crash when I get home so I’m not as attentive as I should be. Apologies and whatever… now get over it cuz I have a life… Now on to business…
Dexter 4.2 and 4.3
Because I’m behind in two of my reviews, I’m going to sum these up really quickly:
- Episode 4.2 was so frantic that I wasn’t sure where the writers were trying to go with the storyline. I’m guessing that the feverish tone of the show was supposed to convey to the watcher just how jumbled and frantic Dexter must have felt trying to find the missing body parts. Otherwise, there just was no excuses and I would chalk it up to bad writing.
- Do we really need Quinn as an added storyline? Can anything good really come of it? The whole reporter affair is so obviously going to blow up in the end but do we need to add in that he’s a dirty cop too? Just one storyline that needs to go away…
- And speaking of going away… We still haven’t been told what ever happened between Batista and Bawbwa [come on... I know I'm not the only one who noticed that Batista can't pronounce his R's]
- In Episode 4.3 we find out it was the delinquent kids father that was the vandal. Really? Like we didn’t see that coming from a mile away…
- So disappointed in Lithgow so far… Please writers, allow him to nurture his inner psycho… He just comes off as milquetoast creepy instead of Hannibal scary… “You, sir, are no Hannibal!”
- Astor needs a beat down… Am I wrong in thinking that she’s ten years old? Are the writers aging her and not letting us know? Last year she didn’t have boobs… This year she’s angst-ridden PMSing in every episode!! Rita doesn’t help any when she just gives a little sigh, rolls her eyes and says stupid shit like “you can’t treat her like a little girl anymore”. Ummmm… yes you can… she’s 10!!!
- And lastly… Rita… sweet “Karma Karma Karma Chameleon” Rita… little miss “you already had your coffee” Rita… I am dying to watch Dexter stick the knife in her chest… please let it be next episode… please…
Apparently, my tag cloud post was not included when the spider searched my blog… nor the post entitled “Quarterly Bitchfest”… which reminds me… I’m about due for a new one, aren’t I? Stupid spider… I deserve an R rating for sure… In fact, I might just go steal Sissy’s from her page and put it on my own… errr… borrow… I meant BORROW…