Get in where you fit in

It never fails. I move through life as simply  as I can for months at a time. And then something tops the cake and I feel the pain and the mistakes of the last few months. Not because they're there. They're going to be there regardless because I'm living. Learning as I go. But they remind me that I have failed.

I cannot find love, love cannot find me, I cannot find friends who love me for me, I am always alone and I don't think that will ever change. I am grouped into the box of girls who had kids super young so I'm viewed as a poor decision maker, a poor person, and trash. I am not denying any of these except trash, but I often find myself feeling like I'm better than the other girls in the box. I have no reason for this thought other than the depth of hope and resilience I am able to exude. It's completely ridiculous, but I don't want to hang out with other moms my age who have teenagers who's stepparents molested them, or are involved in gangs, or were raised by their grandparents, or are latch key kids. I'm doing better than that for my kids.

Regarding dating, men without kids don't want to date me because I have four, and men with kids don't want to date me because they don't want to explain to their kids that I have four with two dads. I get it. I understand that. It doesn't make it any less depressing.

And tattoos. Tattoos. Sigh. It's like I'm a leper. I'm not wanted in weddings, in childhood friendships, in serious relationships...

One day I'd like to blog about how incredible my relationships are instead of the same things I was writing about 7 years ago.

Kelsey

I can see it in her frown.
When I ask her what's got her down.
I already know the answer.
But I ask anyway.
Because maybe...just maybe.
It won't be what I already perceive.
When she's lying next to me.
And to my face because we both know.
What we already know.
That I am just one person.
I am not enough.
I will never be enough.
And neither will she.
Until she has a daddy.

Standing frozen in the life I've chosen.

Stella runs around singing, "Let it go. Let it go. It's not part of me."  I don't know why she thinks that's how the song goes but I think it's pretty funny that she makes her own sense.

Christmas is coming and I'm beyond excited. It's our first Christmas in our new house and it's all coming together update wise. The clock stopped at 3:15 am the other day and the ghosts haven't bothered us since, (they hate construction) so that's a good thing. I painted the basement tonight and I'll put up the ceiling and put down the carpet tomorrow. The tree is up. It fits perfectly in our cozy living room.

Everything is awesome. The past 6 months I've gotten everyone out of my life who has no business being in it anymore and every time I'm onto getting out the next one...a blessing arrives. Sometimes within hours. It's CRAZY. I'm so skeptical of anything and everything anymore. I often feel like I don't know anything. But I know I'm doing or saying the right things...even though sometimes the things I say sound mean and unlike the giant pushover that I am...amazing things just keep happening.

The latest blessing is that the church daycare my kids go to has adopted my family for Christmas. They pick one every year and this year they picked us. I had no idea they even did anything like that since we don't attend the church. I was so grateful I told the daycare teachers I loved them. I don't even have a dollar for Christmas this year which is unusual because I can always make it happen on my own.

I'm REALLY grateful. I don't know what I did to deserve the sweet things that I keep receiving. I only hope I can keep paying it forward every chance I get.

Everyone wants to be famous. I just want to be free.

I should see a therapist but I don't want to admit that I'm broken. If I say it out loud, as opposed to writing it, it feels more definite. "It" being the pain, the damage, the years of traumatic events that I have subjected myself to and allowed because I am scarred.

I dated someone once who was able to admit what a hot mess he was but not in a victimized way. I envied that but at the time I told him he was an idiot. Not for feeling pain and being ruined, but for saying it out loud, giving others the opportunity to judge him.

I am too old to give a hoot what other people think and too young to be alone so much for self preservation.  I miss him so much I can't even breathe out of my nose from how much I've been crying. I don't know if it will ever stop hurting. I don't think time heals anything but I'm certain amnesia does. Wouldn't that be wonderful on occasion? Selective amnesia.

Maybe I should go see a hypnotist again.

For Ella.

It's been awhile...but here we go again...

On February 7, my ex husband showed up on my doorstep.  He was highly intoxicated, (relapsing after 7 months of sobriety) saying he had just come from a doctor's appointment.  He had found out that it was a possibility that he could have pancreatic cancer from his years of super hard drinking.  He was an absolute basketcase saying that any time he went to doctor's appointments, he was asked to remove his clothes and once he did, he was treated differently.  I guess that's what happens when you have a swastika on your chest, (his puertorican girlfriend paid for) in a world with Indian and black doctors.  I called my ex boyfriend and asked him if he could cover up my ex husband's tattoo immediately so that he could go to his next doctor's appointment without being ashamed.  My ex boyfriend covered it that night.  The next day my ex husband was too drunk to go to work so he stayed at my house.  

To make a very long story short, within 5 weeks he ended up in 4 different hospitals.  Each time his BAC was a .4%.  On one occasion he overdosed on Ativan in my driveway and our son called 911.  On another occasion he was beaten by police so badly that his nose was broken.  On another occasion he stomped a mexican drug lord's teeth out.  I drove him to the hospital each time, and each time his ex girlfriend, (whom he has a 6 month old with) picked him up and would drop him off at hotels with random prescriptions and crack.  He always ended up finding a way back to my house.  I refused to buy him alcohol but I have no problem helping someone who is begging for help.

He finally received the help he needed and began living a normal life.  Or so I thought.

Last night at Wal-Mart he threw a fit because I said he shouldn't buy a $500 t.v. when we have bills/rent to pay.  He left me in the store when I wasn't aware and then had me paged over the intercom to come to the car.  Thank God I had the car keys or I'm sure he would've left me there.  He was screaming every profanity imaginable in the parking lot and telling me that I couldn't tell him what he can and can't buy.  I just got in the car.  I said nothing the entire way home.  

It's not that I didn't care, it's that I care too much.  I don't want to hurt people I love.  I think I've done that enough in my life.  And I think my ex husband is someone I genuinely love so I'd rather say nothing than something awful.  I have also developed the ability to really let go.  And if someone thinks terrible things about you, or treats you poorly, then that's just fine.  I'm not going to change their behavior with my words.  I took him in and went through $6K.  I am the reason he still has a car, a lawyer, car insurance, a phone, and his life.  As much as I could beat myself up about the money since I am now unable to pay my rent this month, it's not worth it.  It's just money.  I helped him without motive.  Things were blossoming between us over the last few months.  We became friends that we had never been before.  Probably, the best of friends.

Today, I woke up and he was gone.  He didn't take his belongings with him, (which I've already packed) and he didn't say goodbye to his kids.  He isn't allowed to drive legally but that's not stopping him.  I turned his phone off after I put the pieces together and realized he got back with his ex girlfriend. Our son found out he was gone and melted on the floor.  I can't get the look on his face out of my head.  I had to leave the room because I was so upset by his reaction and wasn't able to comfort him.  It brought everything back.  It's like I'm reliving the feelings I felt the months leading up to my divorce all over again.

My kids will never have their dad in their life constantly, but maybe there's a chance for Ella.  

  

I choose the things.

Yesterday, Stella fed the ducks at the park.  Her teachers took pictures of her and her friends on the swings and when I asked her to show me the picture of her she pointed at the one of her and then at the one of her little boyfriend, Luke.  Today, she kissed Luke all over his face and hugged him.  She's precious!!

Today was Chris and Kelsey's first day of 5th and 6th grade.  It went way better than I expected.  Christopher has been terrified about this for about a week now.  He talked about it two nights ago for an hour straight.  His dad wants him to take medication, (which I don't believe in for children) so I'm pretty thankful he was able to calm himself down today.  No tears, but he did forget his house key and had to climb through a window to get inside.  Kelsey, (my social butterfly) had a wonderful day.  She was nervous about learning something hard, but since I got her an IEP last year I think she'll do much better than she did at the beginning of last year.

A facebook email I received today from an old high school acquaintance:
Hey Karen, 
I meant to message you months ago but life just gets crazy. Ha. A few months ago I was pulling out of my parents driveway and two lil kids were crossing the driveway on the sidewalk. I recognized them to be your two oldest. Obviously I stopped and they stopped and I motioned to let them go first. They both looked me right in the eye and smiled and said thank you. I saw the genuineness and kindness in their eyes. I was taken aback. Not many kids their age would have looked me in the eye and been so genuinely polite. I immediately thought of you and what an amazing mama they have. I'm sure you're already proud of them but I wanted to let you know they warmed a stranger's(to them) heart that day...on a day I didn't think I could smile. You have 4 beautiful children. I commend you. Hope you are doing well. Xo

I am feeling overwhelmed and outnumbered.  Four kids is a lot, especially when they go to three different schools.  I love them so much it's insane and I want them all to be so safe and smart.  Ugh.  Love.  Steve's trying REALLY hard to be good to me.  He's succeeding.  There is a box in our bedroom and I think it has a present for me in it.  I can't wait for him to get home from work!!  On Saturday, his mom, (who I haven't spoken to in 8 months b/c she threw a temper tantrum since I didn't return a text fast enough and she decided she'd "never send me any messages or texts again") decided to randomly email me to tell me how I'M the one who has borderline personality disorder, not her or her son.  Ok.  When I showed Steve the emails she sent me, (b/c after I told her to stop contacting me she couldn't stop contacting me) he looked at me and said, "she really is crazy, isn't she...I'm so sorry...I've done this stuff too."  And so have I...when I was in my early 20's and drunk.  Then I'd wake up the next day and feel like a total jackass, only to get drunk and do it again.  I like being 30.  I wouldn't ever want to be in my 20's, (especially early 20's) ever again.  EVER.  But she's in her late 50's and lives alone and the only family she has either can't stand her or only does so in super small doses, usually when they're drunk too.  It's sad.

Things are things.  And today they're good.

I want to be a good mom.

I don't feel like I'm good at anything anymore. I have such a stupid self esteem. I am not confident in my decisions. I don't have the finances or the time to make the decisions I dream about. 

I am trying to focus on all the good things I have but the good things I have are not just my own. They are people, places, and things that have their own minds, stresses, and inadequacies. They aren't there very often or easily accessible. It is harder to deal with every day things because I'm doing so with someone I don't love. 

Stella ran out the front door and fell down the front porch stairs yesterday. I watched and was paralyzed. I couldn't move or talk and once I was able I shook until I threw up. We went to the ER and she was diagnosed with a mild concussion. I'm mad. I've been mad since I saw her screaming at the bottom of the concrete stairs. I care so much about life and I share these beautiful little creatures with someone who doesn't. Sometimes I hate myself. 

Lexapro doesn't work. Zoloft really doesn't work. And I can't afford to go back to crossfit. 

I don't know what to do. 

I should've done what I wanted.

Some days I think my tombstone is gonna read something like: here lies mommy; woulda, shoulda, coulda. Sometimes when I see the missing person signs flashing on the highway I feel excited and somewhat envious of the missing person. I love my life but I'm not in love with it. I love it because I have bunches of kids, the healthy and beautiful kind. I don't love it because...well...because my definition of successful doesn't reflect my life.

Today, "hope" told me to go fuck myself.  Very kindly, but it still hurt just the same.  Reality set in that this isn't just a stage in my life.  This too isn't passing.  This is my life.  And I'm really sad about it.  I don't know how to change it because he won't leave.  How many times can you pack up someone's stuff and put it in the hallway before they get the hint?  I hate this.  I hate this more than when T left me.  I've always thought that was the worst time in my life, but it's not.  Good people are almost impossible to find these days.  Am I really stuck with someone who swears at me CONSTANTLY, tries jumping out of my moving car when he doesn't want to be in it, involves police in everything, and spends all of his nights at the bar and on slot machines?  I can't ever rely on him for anything, except drastic mood swings.  I hate it.  I want to crawl in a hole and cry.  T...I just re-read that sentence.  I hate this more than when T left me.  There must be something about the initial T because the reason I've realized what I do not want more than anything in the world is because of a new person with the first initial T.  I'm never talking to a person with the first initial T ever again.  As if that will really solve any of my problems.

Silas went to the dentist yesterday and had his tooth fixed.  Little buddy just had one cavity.  He will be 3 years old tomorrow!!  We celebrated his and Stella's birthdays last Sunday though.  Stella LOVED her party.  Silas cried most of the time.  I think parties stress him out...

I am the girl with the short skirt and the long jacket.

Life is a bunch of balogna. The kind you find in the back of your fridge when you're cleaning it out. The package looks melted, buttery, and is sticky and misshapen. You open the package and smell a mix of your ex boyfriends feet and fluffy girl vagina. 

Sigh. 

So, naturally, when my kids dad found out I was seeing someone else he went ballistic and began controlling my entire life. This lasted a few short weeks until he was certain that the guy had stopped pursuing me. He has returned, in full effect, to the vulgar, disgusting, manipulative, verbally abusive, fat prick he tries not so hard to cover up. My stress level is so high that I sweat constantly, I'm covered in a rash, I cannot drink anything except water, and I cannot eat anything except fruit and dry cereal. Everything, and I mean, everything makes me sick. I am not depressed though. That's always a plus. Today, Silas stuck his tongue out and spit at me while Steve was yelling at me and Steve commended him. It was gross. I packed Steve's stuff up a few days ago but he just unpacked it and put it all away. I pay all the bills and the rent which leaves me $32 between checks to put gas in my car, buy diapers, and other household necessities. 

Sigh. 

I need a second job. Even if its only 1 or 2 days a week. 

At least my kids are healthy and beautiful. I would just like to be able to enjoy them more without the drama. 

I think God sent me someone.

All the things I do:

Pay $500 towards rent

Pay gas/electric/cable

Pay daycare

Buy the food

Buy toiletries/laundry and cleaning items

Pay for kids extras

Buy kids clothes

Transport kids to and from school/daycare/doctors appts/dentist appts/friends houses

Laundry 

Dishes

Detailing

Minor repairs around the house

Paint

Take out trash and recyclables

Clean back hallway 

All the things he does:

Apply $200 towards rent

Pay phone bill

Buy toilet paper/paper towels/diapers

Get stupid tattoos of Charles Ramsey to become an instant celebrity in the news

I've had enough. 

Maybe I could find the time to make you understand.

I've decided to blog a few times a week, if not, more. My best friend just got engaged and she's busy with her soon to be step daughter and husband. I could say I miss her, I could say I'm sad and feel like a lost puppy, I could say I feel left out, but instead I'll just say I'm happy for her and her life change. I'm 30. You'd think I would've kept someone around who was good to me by now. I hope this year I get the chance to. I would relish in it. And now I'm thinking of hotdogs. Mmmmmm. Anywho, I want someone who is mine and I want someone who considers me theirs. I don't have a "person" for anything. So, I'd like one of those. And a job making $500 extra a month, and someone who could pick the kids up from school if they're sick or it's raining outside, maybe run them to their doctor appointments...basically I need to have 24/7 access to another adult who I can and want to get naked with and share EVERYTHING except used toilet paper with.

On an awesome note, Christopher had his first band concert tonight and my big little flutist kicked butt. I cried. I've never done that before. I felt so confused. While holding my last baby I was watching my first baby grow up. He's going to middle school next year. I've had "the talk" with him and he's pretty excited to be growing up. Yikes. Silas does a fantastic composer impression...

Until we meet again blog, my new best friend.

I apologize in advance for any repetitions.

I suppose everyone is unhappy with certain circumstances in their life. I suppose everyone feels overwhelmed, unloved, mistreated, used, unhealthy, and ruined. Lately though, I suppose I've been feeling all of the above more often than I normally do.

I wake up, I look at the clock, I calculate how much longer I can sleep for. I look over at the guy sleeping next to me and I feel nothing. What I think is a totally different subject. I think things like, "stop snoring, dear God your breath smells like dead animals, why did I do this, and you're not even tolerable when you're sleeping." Then I fall back asleep until my alarm goes off again, and when it does, you better believe I look over at the guy sleeping next to me and my mind races again. I get up for the day, I wake my two older children up, I shower, while in the shower I hope to myself that he woke up and is getting the babies ready for me to take them to school. When I get out of the shower I am mad because my 11 year old is watching tv while my 10 year old is laying face down in her bed. She is not a morning person and neither am I so I can't be that mad right? But then I think, "we dislike in others what we dislike in ourselves," and then I get mad at myself for being 30 and still unable to get up for the day. It is now 7:52 and the babies are not awake. I am dressed but I need to dry my hair and put on make up. I hate putting on make up because I can't stand looking at myself in the mirror. I'm ugly. My skin is horrid. I have celiac disease and acne scars and boy, does it show on my face. A resident I work for once said, "if you are sick your skin is too," and I'm just sick of being sick. I'm sick of being sick and having no one to take care of me. No one helps me with anything. That guy is still sleeping in my bed and if he has it his way, I will live every day of my life "in a relationship" on paper, but living as a single mom in reality. I'm tired of doing everything myself. He says, "I can't do anything I work 6 days a week." Six days a week and our phones are always shut off and our rent is always late because he doesn't have is half which is $350. If you're working six days a week and can't come up with about $500 a month for rent and a phone bill you're obviously doing something wrong. I pay for everything else. I need a new car. Mine is about to go. My credit is shot. In my early 20's I must've thought I was Paris Hilton the way I ran up my credit cards. My brain isn't being very nice today and I need a nap. It's now 8:06 and I'm about to start drying my hair but before I do, I make sure the older two kids get the two younger kids ready. This takes much prodding because they want to be 10 and 11. Typical. So now it's 8:15, they're arguing over who's going to put the baby in her carseat, and I'm wondering why this guy couldn't just wake up and get his kids ready. If I wake him up he gives me an attitude that's about as tolerable as wiping my butthole with sandpaper and a tattoo gun. Simultaneously. And I just can't take it. Sigh. I don't want to go to work today. I don't want to go to work today. Why didn't I pick a guy who worked hard so I didn't have to? Oh, that's right. Because I had no self esteem. Well, I have one now, can I please have someone who will take care of us and who I can take care of, too? Why am I talking to myself. No one is listening. It is now 8:35 and I'm finally walking out the door with my kids. I reverse, back in to that guy's, (who's in my bed) truck because he didn't pull up into his spot far enough and I think, "this dude can't even park right," and just continue to reverse while scraping the side of my car. I don't even care. My car might not make it to work anyway and I'm late.

I could go on about the rest of my day, but I'm sure that jumping on a trampoline covered in broken glass would be more fun than reading my bitching. So I'll just end this with two things: I removed my iud today all by myself because the symptoms mirroring lupus have got to go, and every day I hope I don't have to wait until I'm 60 and that guy dies to be happy.

If it weren't for this blog, I'd have no outlet.

No one cares if you're sad, so you might as well be happy. Or at least, pretend to be. So far, being 30 has sucked. The only perk I've experienced so far is that my skin has cleared up a lot. This could also be due to the fact that I got an IUD last month but who knows? I'm not complaining about that.

Today I shaved one of my best girlfriend's head. I've known her since I was 12. She came to Florida with me and my mom for our family vacation when we were teens. She turned 30, 29 days before I did. Shortly after her birthday she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She's had chemo twice so far. I feel completely selfish writing this, but this is really killing me inside. She is so positive and playful. Truly inspiring. She has two super young, gorgeous little girls, and her husband is her high school sweetheart. It's like something out of a movie. When I came home from her house today I laid down in my bed and took a nap. I'm so mentally drained. I know she will be ok. She found it early and it's not anywhere else in her body. I know she's well taken care of. And I know that attitude is everything. I just need to work on mine. Pep it up a little bit. I've got to get it together.

On a side note, this past weekend I learned to mind my own business. Next time I'm walking home from the Richland at 2am, (after only spending $7) and I witness a person total a Mercedes I will not call 911 for help. Cops have nothing better to do but give key witnesses disorderly conduct/intoxication tickets. So next time I will just keep walking.

Gonna get in the car and drive real far...

And apparently listen to the Horror Pops over and over again. Although, the band makes me want to bash my head into the steering wheel, my Stella Kat LOVES them. I've never met a baby with so much preference. All 4 of my children are so different. It's incredible in an awesome kind of way.

I love how she holds my arm with her soft little paw when she's nursing.

Sometimes I think you know me better than most.

And sometimes I think I should title my blog, "Dear Lacey." I'm not complaining. I like Lacey. Today I had that breakdown moment. The one where you're paralyzed and all you can think of is, "someone please help me," when my phone went off and I had an email. A comment notification. And then the feeling of being paralyzed vanished and was replaced with thankfulness/tears.

I've been pretty stressed to say the least. Stella has a double ear infection, my house is covered in Legos, she started crawling two days ago, and now I feel completely outnumbered and overwhelmed. She's such a mommy's girl too. I love it but sometimes I need to fold laundry, or shower, or eat something. I love my job dearly but I don't make enough money for how much physical work I do. It's way more than doing hair. Nursing homes are hard places to work in. It's a lot of nurturing, double and triple draping and caping, squatting during an entire haircut, repeating yourself over and over and over and over and over again, and watching aides treat these people like garbage. It's unbelievable. I often remember why I'm not in healthcare anymore...which makes me regret...so many regrets. Yeah, yeah, I know that no one is supposed to have those but I do. I wish I'd have gotten a good degree before I had kids. I wish I wouldn't have given up on myself at such a young age. I wish I made more money so I could spend it on other people. I swear I could blow an entire paycheck on things for other people. Fundraisers, presents, bake sales, I'm nuts.

Holy moly I'm exhausted.

Please stop kicking my ass.

I try really hard. I try to be accommodating, thoughtful, appreciative, respectful, motivated, accepting, understanding... You get it. I try. It's so hard to be these things to someone that uses you. I'm also tired of being so cryptic. Even with myself. I want to be loved and to have a good relationship. I want my words to be seen as honest ones instead of as insults. I want a self esteem and I want to believe in myself. I want to stop deceiving myself. People don't change unless they don't like themselves. I can't say they don't change because I know I did. But only because I hated myself. I'm going to be 30 in 5 days. I can't wait. I hated my 20's minus my kids. No repeats please.

In case I forget.

I turned off the tv and said, "Silas it's night night time." He replied with, "hey mom! Si watchin' tv!!"

Sweet thing.

I love my kids so much it's undefinable.

I'm lucky. I'm blessed. Call it whatever you want to call it. My kids bring me so much happiness that at times I feel like my heart is going to explode.

Christopher is such a good kid. He's considerate. He's at the age where seeing girls naked is something that makes him uncomfortable. He likes privacy when he pees. He works at enunciating his words, calls his grandma to see if she needs anything done around the house, reprimands his brother for repeating the word "sucks," practices the flute daily, bathes his baby sister and rocks her to sleep, and starts my car in the morning. He's a home body. He's a lot like me.

Kelsey is on her way to puberty. She's pretty emotional, I feel like nothing's ever good enough, yet she's so happy to be with her family. She has a bond with her brothers that no one can touch. I've never seen anything like it. Her baby brother means the world to her. She showers with him, reads him stories, and gets him ready for daycare in the morning. She's the best helper I've ever met and at times I don't know what I'd do without her help. I admire her social skills and confidence. She's been doing great at school since I got her an IEP and she's decided she wants to go to fashion school to design clothes. My mom is going to teach her to sew.

Silas speaks!! About 3 weeks ago his vocabulary developed immensely in to full blown toddler tornado chatter box madness. He can say every word. He can even spell "coke," and he's read a few words here and there. I wonder if he was learning every word until he knew them all and then decided to talk. His new phrase is, "I love it!" He's awesome. He's become quite the little hoarder since he began daycare. He has gift bags and boxes filled with everything you could imagine, from valentines day cards to q-tips to Barbie shoes. Whenever something goes missing I know where to find it. He also has a friend at school named Edward, who he tells on constantly, yet says goodbye to daily. It's super adorable.

And Stella. Oh, my sweet little baby "La." She's so squishy and cuddly. She's a total mommy's girl. It makes me feel like I'm on a cloud. I can't leave the room or turn away from her without her whining. I tried laying her down in her crib last night and she winced the second I walked away. I'm a caver. I picked her right back up, held her tight, and she molded her body to mine. Pure love!! She's always happy, says "baba, nana, dada, mama, fafa," and loves sweet potatoes and rice cereal. She bounces when she's excited too. I have no idea where she gets that from...

Suck it in and smile big.

There is not enough mommy to go around.  Stella is now 3 months old and I haven't found time for much of anything besides working, cleaning, cooking, helping the kids with their homework, and playing with the babies.  Silas is watching Cars 2 while Stella is having tummy time.  She's made a half circle so far on her play mat and she's talking to a lion rattle.  Silas keeps putting his head on her butt while saying, "aaaww."  I love them together.  I'm so happy I got to have another one so Silas won't be alone.  Christopher and Kelsey have an amazing bond and I hope Silas and Stella have the same.  Siblings intrigue me, I suppose it's because I don't have any.

Silas has been playing copy cat with everyone around him so no swearing!!!  One day he said, "my da go bye bye why car!"  Another day he said, "why my da go bye bye ma?"  Last week he jumped on my bed while Stella was kicking around and he scared her.  She started crying and he asked me, "she o...k?"  A few weeks ago I put his fuzzy fleece car pajamas on him, stood him in front of the mirror, and watched him pet the car on his tummy while saying, "I Q!!!!" (cute).  He's SO cute!!!  When I return home from work he runs at me full force screaming, "mamamamamamamamamamama!!!"  That's probably one of the best feelings ever.

I started working when Stella was 7 weeks old.  I kept praying for a job that I would want as a career and I think I've got it.  I only work 2 days a week right now, but clientele is building up quickly, so I think I'll be working more soon.  The money I make is good for only being there two days a week.  I can at least cover my rent with it.  I'm a stylist in a nursing home and I have never loved doing anything more.  All the staff is super nice and the residents, even the crotchety ones, really like me.  They like that I'm soft spoken, light handed, and quirky.  I like feeling like I have a purpose at work other than to bring someone their food, drinks, and hear their stupid jokes that make me want to punch them in the chode.

Let's see, what else has been going on?  Stella was dedicated on September 16, the ex was in court and evicted out of his mom's house a few weeks ago, now lives in Parma and comes around maybe once a week, Christopher is playing the flute in band, (don't laugh) I requested Kelsey to be tested through the board of education for a learning disability, (because I've thought she's had one since first grade but her teachers kept telling me she would outgrow it...what the heck ever that means) and I made some totally cool chore charts that are really helping my kids stay on track.

Baby's crying, gotta go.

Sometimes my life hurts my feelings.

Feelings are like hemorrhoids.  All my insides are hanging out.  And the second they're exposed I begin to wonder how they got there...how I got into the situation I'm in that led me here...and how I got into the situation that led me to the previous one...all the while my insides are hanging out and I'm wondering how to put them back in where they're supposed to go without damaging anything around them.

If you've never met someone who seems to be BPD don't do it.  And if you've never had children with someone with this personality disorder don't do that either.  It's one of those situations that nags at me constantly...what was I thinking...what if my kids have this disorder...am I going to be weighed down by these perceived "issues", made up by the infected, that aren't even realistic...for the rest of my life?

Because if I live to be 100 that's a long time.  And I don't know if I can subject my brain to this for 71 more years.  I have to do the robot every day in order for it not to effect me.  But at night when I'm alone and disconnected it effects me and I feel sad for me and these kids.

Four's a lot.  I don't feel like Supermom anymore.  I feel super fucked up.  And already I can't find a job that fits into the schedule where I have a sitter.

I'm sick of crying.

Stella smiled at me.  She laughs too.

I have really cute kids.

I've got the blues.

I don't have time to feel like this, I've got too many kids.  But I feel it alright.  There isn't a room in my house unoccupied by a child so I went in the basement while having a meltdown.  And I melted down right into a laundry basket with clothes in it.  Then I opened the dryer and contemplated hiding in it...then laughed at myself because...I just had baby #4 and I'm so small I could fit in a dryer...what the??  I'm hurting.  I forgot how hard it was to just give birth to a baby and watch your ex move on less than a week after.  And this one rubs it in my face...well that and not wanting to be a dad anymore and blaming THAT on me too.

Every little thing is weighing me down.  Even the lady at the WIC office made me cry because she asked, "what do you mean you don't have anyone who supports your decision to nurse?"  Like, hey lady, this is my 4th kid, no one's fucking happy about that - do you think they give a shit about how it's going to eat?  Instead, I just looked at her and smiled because that's what I do.

Stupid hormones.  Just fucking stupid.  So is swearing.

"Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever sunlight remains to them?" ~Rose Kennedy

A star is born!

I am officially a single mother of 4.  FOUR!!!!  Holy moly.  On July 18, on my way out to eat with my bff Meghan, her daughter, and Silas, (Chris and Kelsey were at summer camp for the week) the increasing pain in my butt hole caused me to call my doctor, who told me to come on in so he could check me out, and I was 3cm dilated, 80% effaced, and my contractions were 3 minutes apart.  Here's the stupid part.  Since he wasn't on call, he sent me home and told me to come back to the hospital around 8p.m. if I was still feeling uncomfortable.  So, we went to Bob Evans and then went to Babies R Us because I had a gift card to spend...and I didn't have any diapers for the new baby.  While we were out I used the restroom only to find that I was bleeding.  Everywhere.  I paid for the diapers, we dropped off Meghan's daughter at a sitter, stopped at my house so I could pack a bag, and drove to the hospital while my ex harassed me through text/my ex's mom comforted me through text.  Radness all around.

We arrived at the hospital around 7:45p.m., I was already checked in, a nurse, (the nicest nurse EVER, Faye) wheeled me upstairs, and gowned and monitored me up.  I was ready to go.  The pressure on my butt hole was ridiculous and all I kept saying was, "my butt hole's going to fly off."  The on call doctor came in, who didn't want to deliver anyone who wasn't her patient, and was a complete and total brat.  She checked my cervix and the monitor, said my cervix was the same as it was at my Dr.'s office, and that my contractions were probably being caused by a U.T.I. so they collected a urine sample.  She wanted to send me home but I refused to leave.  Jerks.  Since when do U.T.I.'s make you feel like you have to push a baby out of your foof?  IDIOTS!  While they were waiting for lab results I walked some laps around the hallway and drank some water, laid back down an hour later, and had my cervix checked again.  4cm dilated 100% effaced.  I was beyond ready for them to give me an epidural and break my water so I could get the show on the road. BUT the anesthesiologist was in an emergency appendectomy by this time and was unable to leave the surgery until it was complete.  The nurse and doctor told me this while my arm was being poked and prodded with needles to blow my veins...I mean...to start my I.V. so I just started to sob.  I've never cried during labor, but I've also never had pain in so many areas of my body at one time.  On top of the letdown that I couldn't receive an epidural at that time they told me that I'd have to wait at least 4 hours to have her because I was group B strep positive, as I was with my other daughter...weird, and they needed to administer I.V. antibiotics during that time period.  I was super thrilled with my awesome experience by this point but I'm not much of a complainer so Meghan got an attitude with the nurse and the doctor.  Magically, I received a shot of nubain and less than a half hour later I got an epidural!!  When I was in labor with Silas I got to 7cm dilated without an epidural but this labor was way more horrendous.  Butt hole pressure is so scary that I had my butt cheeks smooshed together the entire time because I literally believed she would fly right out.  After the epidural I was in heaven.  I dozed in an out for awhile until the nurse checked me and told me it was time to push.  I pushed through 1.5 contractions and she was out!!

Miss Stella Kathleen aka Stella Kat

7lbs 10oz 19.5"

7/19/2012 @ 5:35 a.m.

Since I am not the jerk I wish I still was, my ex was present and she has her brother's last name because I didn't want him to be an outcast.  The ex is now refusing to be in their lives, only held his daughter twice, has never changed her diaper, and tried to ban his mother from seeing the babies.  My heart hurts.  A lot.  And he's now seeing someone who has kids but it would ultimately the absolute best thing if he didn't have anything to do with them.  They're unbelievably wonderful.  Stella Kat is the sweetest baby girl.  Her cord fell off today so she showered with me and she was in love with the shower.  That's my girl!!

Her first week home:

I'm starting to question whether or not there really is enough mommy to go around.  I have 4 kids!!!

Oh baby, you're not really a baby anymore.

Silas said, "I love you" to me last night!!!  Perfect.  He's been, "lo-law-low-ing" for the past 3 days and he turned it into I love you.  So precious!

The kids and I went out to eat with my mom last night.  Silas fell asleep in the car on the way to the restaurant at 5p.m. on the dot like usual and when we arrived he woke up and was a super sweetheart.  He was quiet...he's NEVER quiet!  He usually screams in delight with his arms above his head everywhere we go.  It's awesome and cracks me up constantly.  I've never had such a happy kid.  He babbled to my mom in an indoor voice, ate all Christopher's fruit cup and all 3 pieces of my sausage links, and drank his entire chocolate milk.  After dinner we went to the fabric store where Silas shrieked with excitement for about 20 minutes while my mom and I picked out fabric for curtains in my bedroom.  Oh boy, it's a pretty obnoxious pattern, but I'm excited!  My mom took Chris and Kelsey to her house with her while I took Silas to Hallmark for his baby sister's 1 year calendar and to Walmart so I could get a can of paint replaced.  He was such a good boy in both stores, babbling to everyone, waving bye bye, and only occasionally trying to bite and lick me, (sometimes he thinks he's a puppy - no joke) which was a plus for my hands and wrists.

Monday night I caught Silas in Kelsey's room brushing Barbie's hair with a Barbie brush.  He's getting ready to have a baby sister!!  Also that night I caught Stella Kat's foot through my stomach.  I did that with Silas when I was only about 18 weeks along with him.  It's the coolest thing in the world, one of those memories that always bring me back to the exact excitement I felt at the time I made the memory.

I love, love, love having a toddler.  I forgot how much I love this phase.  They're so weird, quirky, and lovey dovey...just like me!!!  I am so pumped about this new baby!!!  I had contractions 10 minutes apart last night for 2 hours until I fell asleep.  Hopefully, she'll be here soon!  

I may not have the best of everything. But that's just your opinion.

Thank God it's not 98 degrees today.  The heat makes me throw up spontaneously.  I have central air, another thing to be thankful for, but after it gets to a certain temperature outside c/a doesn't do much of anything.  Today was different.  Phew!  I was able to stay outside with the kids all day.  All I ever want to be is a stay at home mom.  I love cooking and cleaning and laundry and crafting.  I love that everyday I find another small project to complete.  With 3 kids I've compiled an enormous list of small projects.  I could keep myself busy for years.  I love listening to my kids' weird conversations and watching them play together.  It's gotta be one of the coolest things in the world to have siblings.

Silas makes a new sound every few hours.  I sometimes wish he'd put them all together and say what he wants instead of having mini meltdowns when he gets frustrated but I find myself loving, maybe a little too much, that he's still such a baby in some ways.  

He can say:  Ya, no, baba, momma, uh oh, oh, oh no, wow, thee kee (thank you), issy (sissy), bye, mmmnumanumanuma (he wants food)

He still wakes up for a ba at 5a.m. like clockwork.  He's been sleeping in his toddler bed...most of the time...but he often wakes up, runs down the hall to my room, and says, "momma iwa up up!"  I can't resist that!  He's my buddy.  I have a bond with him I've never had with my older two because they had each other.  I'm hoping he'll still be my buddy when Stella Kat arrives.  Right now he's not too fond of her...he yells "no" at my belly when he sees it.  Adorable!

I got bored with facebook so I deleted it last week.  Any way to keep my life mine is wonderful and gives me so much energy for productive experiences.  Plus, I'm just bored in general with social networking.  I'd rather get together with people in person than only online.  All in all I'm happy.  I went to the doctor last week and I'm 1cm dilated and 50% effaced.  He wants to induce me on 7/21 so Silas and Stella don't have the same birthday but I figure if I get to the 21st and she's still in there, let's see when she comes out on her own.  It no longer bothers me if they have the same birthday.  I can prepare a huge birthday bash just fine.

Yawn!  Nap time.

Day 10 minus the minus: I'm over it.

I don't feel like counting the days without him anymore.  I can't believe it's only been 10.  It feels like it's been 5 years.  It's so refreshing and relaxing I never thought a life like this would be mine.  I'm so thankful everyday.  Breathing isn't a forced effort anymore.

He tried to start drama with me this a.m. over the delivery and birth certificate, calling me cruel, lazy, worthless, sneaky and shady, you know, all the things that would make me change my mind about him being in the delivery room.  Genius.  I just don't even care.  I can't get back the 18 months of my life I harbored his children and he treated me like a whore and I'm done justifying it to him.  He can say whatever he wants just as long as he stays away from me.

This book saved my life.  It changed my perspective and helped me remove my emotions from the situation and see this guy for what he really is.  What a blessing.

I don't think I need to talk about it anymore.  It's a waste of time.  If something detrimental happens and I need to document it for personal/court reasons, I obviously will, but there's no point in giving him anymore than I already have.

My daughter turned 9 on the 26th.  Time goes soooooooooo fast, I just can't believe how big she is.  She's about a foot shorter than me and is wearing a size 3 in shoes.  I'm 5'5" and wear a size 6.5...Crazy!!!

This year's going to be a better one for all of us.