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Tuesday, June 26, 2012


Mali wrote a great post about crying... how difficult it can be to close the flood gates.
Oh dear! Yes. The tears sometimes seem to take on a life of their own. And just when you think you may have a handle on the rogue emotional outbursts, here comes another one.  This is exactly what prompted my New Year's resolution: Waterproof Mascara... every time.  Now, I have on occasion fallen off the wagon, as we are want to do with any resolution, but I have, for the most part, kept to it.  There is nothing like having an emotional breakdown, falling to pieces and tears, and later finding that you spent the remainder of the day with a black smudge on your face! Funny, no one ever seems to let you know about that one.  Curiously, since making the resolution, the outbursts have not been so frequent. But, they do still come... damn them! And, oddly, they can come because of the most seemingly innocuous situations. Perhaps it's just my age... 43 now. Perhaps it has something to do with knowing that I really won't ever have children... it's just too late, regardless of whether or not I got buy-in from DH. Perhaps it has to do with the frustration I have in having excruciating pain that comes from parts and bits I don't get to use. I don't really know why. In some ways it's like a big ol' steaming pot of emotional soup... you never know exactly what's going to surface when you stir it all up. Inevitably, though, there are tears... big and hot, running down my face, staining my blouse. But resolution or no, I'm not sure that I will ever really be able to turn that faucet off.

Monday, June 25, 2012

My surrogate kid

I have been told by lots and lots of people that I should put my "mothering" energy into something productive. Maybe into my art, volunteering for a charity, orphans, something. Well, this weekend, I got to do just that.  There is a young woman who is very close with my husband's family. She had every reason to go down a less than desirable path: drug addict mother-deceased from an overdose. missing father, drug addict sister. Instead she homeschooled herself and got her GED. She's clean, smart, responsible and loving. She works full time and has gotten full legal custody of her 12 year old niece. She's saving money to go to college to become a teacher.  At 21 years of age, she is an inspiration. And on "the day that shall remain nameless" she sent me a text to say thanks for being there for her. She was the only one. I boo hoo cried. But now, I have resigned myself that this is my kid. Not my child, but my kid...if that makes any sense. I have always told her that she only need ask if she's running a little short on cash, or needs any help. She always feels bad about doing that. But this weekend, she came to visit. She was running a little short on gas money and reluctantly asked, promising that she would pay me back.  This was my response:

"I don't have any yunguns of my own. Helping you makes me feel good. I wouldn't   ask my blood kid to pay me back... so I won't ask you either. But if you must, I'll just set it aside in case you need it later. You can take care of me when I'm old and in diapers. That's how it works... parents take care of kids, then kids take care of parents. It's just your turn."

It's nice to feel needed... to have someone to spoil and feel proud of. Even though she didn't come out of me, she is a huge part of me. I'm thankful for that.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Third Sunday in June

This Sunday is "F" day. Now, obviously, I'm not a parent, but my DH is. He adopted his former wife's son. So, he's in the club I will never be part of. And while, generally, "F" day is not as difficult for me as "the day that shall remain nameless," for some reason, it's been on my radar quite a bit this year.  Even though I walk this childless path alone-- that is, not with DH-- there are many men out there who are childless, not by choice, too. They may not have the same kind of biological urge to reproduce that many women describe, but they still suffer. They may get invited to the bbq or card game, but the conversations ultimately go to family and kids, and they are excluded. Passively or actively, non-parents, whether male or female, are cast aside. Often it's not even intentional, but left out we are. So this week, my heart goes out to the guys. All of you who wish you were "daddy," but aren't... for whatever reason. Those who feel that they have to put on a strong front, to deny their feelings, to ignore the pain. You are not alone. <3

Tuesday, June 5, 2012


Today, I am in a funk. I'm mildly crampy, slightly annoyed and sad. I continue to have pain from bits I don't even get to use (although, truthfully, the pain is marginally better lately). Father's day is around the corner.

So, obviously, I'm not a dad. But, somehow this year is grating on me, much like getting sand in your eye. I'm a step mom. DH addresses me as "Mom" when talking to SS19. But I didn't rank so much as a card, text or FB note for "the day that shall remain nameless." HOWEVER, I know that his Step dad, his mother's current spouse, will get a Happy F day. Now, SD has been in SS's life longer, certainly. But, truthfully, I don't care. It seems like everyone else gets to be in the club... but not me. Hell, even the card DH gave me was from the pets, and didn't even mention SS19.

Why do I let this get under my skin so? I'm equally annoyed at the situation AND the fact that it annoys me! Can I say neurotic?! Geesh... I just wish things were different. And I wish I didn't care so much.