My New Year...

And it has.

I began 2013 with several promises to myself. Promises to make myself a better person and to make my life more beautiful. I planed to de-clutter, be more creative and begin living healthier both physically and mentally. I planned to return my life back to a state of homeostasis that I'd not lived in in a very long time.

And you know what? I feel as though I've accomplished more than I had even expected to. My life has transitioned a massive amount in the last year. People have come and gone, new things have been experienced and I've learned a massive amount not only about life, but about topics I never in my life imagined I'd have to become well-versed in.

My 2013 featured a lot of opportunities for me to really push myself to be better. To practice patience and become the best version of myself possible. I spent the first several months of 2013 purely focusing on how unhappy and stressed I was. I wallowed and spent a lot of time fueling hateful thoughts towards people who were making my life difficult. It wasn't until the middle of the year, after Molly arrived and I got to see her snuggle Muffin so sweetly, that I decided to be happy. Decided that I was allowed to be happy even if other people weren't.

I took that decision and ran with it. I decided to love my life for every little piece of it, even the bad ones. I chose to thrive on the positive pieces and let the ugly pieces go.

A huge mental assessment then took place that forced me to look at the things that made me unhappy and figure out how to turn them into something more manageable. Something that I could be happy with. My first step was to go through my house and get rid of the excess. I literally filled no less than four gigantic Tupperware tubs with books that I took to the bookstore and sold. I donated bags and bags of clothes that I was clutching on to for god knows what reasons. I said goodbye to them at Goodwill and came home to say hello to a more peaceful and comfortable life.

I realized I was holding on to ridiculous amounts of things for fear to losing the memories of them. Books that I had bought with Christopher or clothes that I had collected in back-street shops in London during shopping excursions with my Janey. I was holding on to them, stashed away in bags or boxes all over my house, terrified that I might forget those beautiful days that made up my British life.

Maybe it was because I was balls-deep in my fifth episode in one day of Hoarders, maybe it was the copious amounts of cola and Godiva chocolates in my system, but I'd snapped and realized something had to change and that the memories that I had were MINE and no THING was going to make them stay any longer.

Beyond that, I think I've come to the realization, after a huge amount of thought and mental distress, that I may not ever get the chance to have a baby. And you know what? That's okay. I stumbled over this topic over and over again, recreating all the possibilities that my future might turn into. I fell apart some days, imagining never being able to have that big fat belly and a child to raise as my own. Other days I realized that instead, I've been offered this really incredible opportunity to become a step-mother and offer love and support to Muffin and his little ones.

I've got children in my life and I've got love to offer them. I've got all the love they're willing to take. I've evolved into a place now where it's okay to just have this. A place where I don't need to dwell on what I don't have or what I may never get the chance to have. A place where I can be happy for the people who DO get to have little ones. I now have the choice to give love and energy to as many people as possible, spreading all the glee I can muster into the lives of people who may forget that it's accessible. I can make things and take photos and share in all the joy of every single person I come into contact with, with no secret envy or hatred. Just the knowledge that at least SOMEONE is being blessed with a little baby-pie to adore.

It took a lot to come to this place. One of my best friends fell pregnant and then it seemed like every other person I knew was suddenly pregnant. Literally, I know about eleven people who are pregnant, and I couldn't be more happy. I wish every single one of them all the love and luck through the changes their bodies will be making and every moment they get with the bundle of joy that they will be bringing into the world. Yeah, I may never get the chance to have my own, but at least I can enjoy what I get and that's a gorgeous little step-daughter, two brilliant step-sons and a whole heap of babies that I get to watch my friends get to mess up in their own lovely ways. I'll get to snuggle those little ones for years to come and watch them grow and shower them with homemade gifts and baked goods until they burst and then I can go home at night and snuggle with the man I decided to spend my life with, happy that I KNOW I made the right choice. 

So that's where I am. Consciously happy. Happy with no excuses or limits. I make the choice every single morning to roll over, smile at Muffin's gorgeous, sleepy face and kiss my stinky puppy's nose. I make that choice because I am happy with every single little thing I've got in my life.

So here's to 2014, a year where I am going to be furiously happy and in love with life.

Good luck to your 2014, I bet it will be glorious!

my father's day

sunday was a beautiful day, one i had been planning for weeks.

once Muffin had gone to bed saturday night i stole away to the dining room and pulled out the collection of photos, schoolworks and drawings that i had accumulated from my personal detective work and from his ex-wife (who i've developed a very special and still slightly uneasy bond with, btw. she's wonderful and we've been talking very regularly, which resulted in her sending a cute folder full of Molly's school photos and work for me to give to Muffin on father's day, a folder which i am very, very grateful for.). i hung a collection of photos and letters i'd made and packed all the best bits of everything else into a folder that i laid next to where he sleeps, for him to see upon waking.

once i woke i spent the day trying to avoid thinking... just allowing myself to become enveloped in the absolute bliss that i had created for Muffin... i carefully manufactured the day around him and the fact that he is a dad who gets very little recognition.

he smiled and was so happy. he told me it was the best father's day he'd ever had. he thanked me over and over.

but jesusgod did my heart start hurting towards the end of the day when a careless comment was said... a comment that was not intended to break my heart, but that did just that, so very well.

we were strapping into the car, i was buckling my seatbelt when, as Muffin was musing about what a special day i had arranged for him, he turned to me and said, "just you wait until next mother's day..."

i instantly ached and did my regular sassy thing that resulted in me accidentally saying something rather passive aggressive, unintentionally, that... hm, i don't want to say "hurt," but set him to think... i told him that there's nothing to look forward to because i am not a mother and most likely never will be, especially not within the next eleven months.

on a side note, and to explain my doom-like view of our childrearing future, it's worth stating that i've developed a sense of disregard when it comes to ANY pregnancy/birth/kid-related conversations because the constant struggle we have for keeping our OWN heads afloat doesn't bode well for any future in keeping a tiny muffin's head also afloat alongside us. our financial situation combined with the fact that he CAN'T give me a baby has jaded me and broken that typically always-hopeful outlook i used to have re: babymaking.

i spend the bulk of my days now reflecting on the fact that so many people have babies or children they don't want and i will most likely never have even one. Origami has three... one she never, ever sees and two she sees about once every two years, leaving the gaps in between face-to-face visits without phone calls or letters. one of Muffin's soldiers is pregnant and cares so little about the tiny life inside of her that she tries to "jokingly" offer it to anyone she can, insisting on smoking and ignoring the fact that she is everyday creating parts of a tiny life that she will never love nearly as much as i ever could. i have so much love that i could give... such a huge part of me constantly yearns for a tiny danie. every single thing that i do every day casts me into the same thought pattern of how i would form my habits and hobbies around a child... how i would teach them, how i would hold them, what morals i would attempt to offer them. all these thoughts and what ifs and dreams are nearly always sucked into the black hole that is my reality, that i will most likely never get that chance. i will most likely never have a child of my own that i can raise from a tiny pea-sized thing in my tummy to an adult that i can be proud of.

i then began to cry. as i changed from third to fourth gear, my eyes did that horrible stinging thing and the back of my throat tightened and hurt as a couple of very chubby little tears blazed a trail down the crevice of my nose to my chin. i immediately wished i had my sunglasses on and proceeded to pretend nothing was happening with my face and tried to avoid sniffling at all costs, for the thought of having to go through that conversation was just far too painful... for me, nothing is too hard to discuss, no topic is hidden in the shadows, but this one. i avoid it so carefully that i could easily win a tournament in it, were it made into an official sport.

as we walked into taco bell he persisted. he asked me how i felt about adoption and i tried so hard to just focus on the burrito i was distracting myself with. he asked about what other options there were... options i have researched time and time again, if only to offer myself a sense of what can only result in false hope for me. i told him there was no point in thinking about any reversal of his "snip" as the likelihood of birth defects is increased by forty percent after ten years...

and you know, even if we could one day create a baby of our own, it would never be what we had talked about so many years ago. it would be clinical and only take place after thousands of dollars were spent on fertility treatments and doctor's appointments.

and whilst it was really a wonderful twenty-four hours for him, this father's day only served as a reminder to me that he HAS children that i will never have and that the women he has children with have a special bond with MY future husband that i never, ever will, and that is to be able to create a baby in the most primal and personal ways...

i will never be able to hope one day that the fruit of one of our intimate sessions would result in a tiny version of us, leaving me with a missed period and needing a pregnancy test, because he's eradicated any chance of that. i will never be able to surprise him with the news that i'm pregnant, because doctors will most likely make that announcement to us, in an office, surrounded by diplomas and office supplies. most likely, i will never be able to lose this tiny bit of resentment i have for each of the mothers of his children for being able to do with him what i have always wanted...

there are plenty of other boys...

in an effort to help all those boys out there who don't have any tact, let me offer a suggestion for one situation... a suggestion that will prove most helpful if you want to keep your significant others at bay...

if you are in a position where you cannot have children and your significant other is pining a little at the thought of having them... if she is just talking a little about the topic and how it makes her a little sad, do not, under ANY circumstances recite the following line (unless, of course, you are not interested in pursuing a future with said female for longer than, say, fifteen minutes):

'well there are plenty of other boys out there that you can be with...'

 honestly, when in doubt, just saying NOTHING and pretending like you didn't hear her would be better than saying that...


this sentence was actually said to me by the muffin about an hour ago...

it was said, i was in shock and then the phone cut off (not deliberately, but because we go through a switchboard. the line only remains connected for one hour and then cuts off).

a little background?

yes, please!

obviously, if you are an avid reader of my blog, you will know that muffin has been fixed... this is old news, but news that muffin has been dealing with by sweeping it under the carpet anytime the topic of children might possibly rear it's ugly head. a topic he is understandably jumpy around due to our history...

you know what though, i'm not unreasonable. i am capable of empathy and i understand it must be hard to start a relationship with someone knowing that you can't give them something that they want quite a lot... i can understand that it must offer a great feeling of inadequacy...

now, because of muffin's tidying habits when it comes to this topic, we have never REALLY discussed it... when it DOES come up and i feel persistent i will push it, not for an absolute answer, but some sign depicting that there might be some chance, maybe, one day that we could have a tiny muffin... that's all i want. i don't want a baby tomorrow, or even next year... i just want to know that the topic isn't closed and if, one day, dane and i decide that we are in a position to do it, we might get his fixing reversed and have a baby... that's all i want.

i want that or i want to know that there's no chance at all so i can make my peace with the topic and brace myself for a future of making friends with other people's babies and perhaps working part time in a nursery, potentially leaving me in a position to go completely crazy emotionally, have a breakdown and kidnap loads of babies and cross a boarder (i'm not stupid, i'm not telling you WHICH boarder!) to start a new life with all my stolen babies. 

occasionally he obliges, saying that he's stuck in the middle and has not made any definite decision either way, but i can't help but think that him saying this is his way of shutting me up... making me believe that he might, possibly change his mind one day, but it's most likely not going to happen.

the topic came up today because danie is broody... danie has been broody for nearly six years and occasionally, when a holiday comes up she gets a little sad because she doesn't have a bundle of joy to shower with special festive-themed fabulousness...

most holidays make me think of what i'd do if i was a mum... what i'd teach my child, what kinds of traditions i'd try to start up and just what an overall fabulous mum i would be. i think about all the little crocheted things i would make them and all the cupcakes i would make for each significant event in our little lives.

but now, next door to the normal pangs of broody that i am having resides the horrifying thought that i might never, EVER have a chance to do any of this.

having both of these thoughts swirling around in my head at the same time has played it's course on my emotions the last couple of days and has left me a little fraught (obviously, i am also at a loose end  because of the fact that this is my first easter since chris and i split AND it was my mum's birthday yesterday, a lethal combination of four things to have on the brain, really) ... i've been slightly down and a little snippy which has, in turn, gotten the muffin into a tizzy...

today, just a short time ago i was on the phone with him explaining my emotional state and why i have been a little curt with him and when i finished pouring my little heart out about the lack of baby and certainty of the future of my womb he handed me the fabulous line in bold above.

he said this and my heart sank... i had absolutely no idea what to say in response to this, so i said nothing. i remained silent and he babbled about something and then said the phone was about to die. i said okay and that i loved him and hung up.

i don't really know where to go from here... what to say or what to do... i feel completely lost. should what he said have upset me? should i just forget it? should i reprimand him and fight my little corner? will it do any good? the answer to all of these is most likely 'no'...

le sigh.

i shall just eat my chocolate and watch a shite comedy to quell my aching heart.

here's hoping your easter is better than mine.

an ode to valium...

So, the divorce paperwork has been received and signed. Literally, just this instant the weight of it all hit me.


I have been bobbing along through the last eleven weeks with little or no emotion after the initial shock. I had hardened myself and not really seen it as something that was real or tangible.

Now though, with the receipt of the respondent agreement, it finally FEELS real, real and quite disgusting. Like I have swallowed some sort of REALLY sour boiled sweet and I have the horrible, tart residue biting from my tongue to my stomach. All down my oesophagus. I just feel ill. Ill and moody and just not very pleased.


Obviously, nobody wants to have to go through a divorce. When I got married I hadn’t anticipated its untimely demise.

See, it’s difficult for me right now… I was speaking to the estranged the other day and I was telling him that I cannot remember why I married him, and I honestly can’t. I have been trying so hard to remember, reading old blogs and letters, looking at old photos. I just can’t remember what part of me thought it was going to be a good idea to marry someone I hardly knew that didn’t make me feel like I was the most important person in the world.


Things with the estranged and I were always overwrought. There was always an air of… what’s the right adjective to use in this situation? Perhaps, ‘reservation.’ Yes, I will stick with that one. I always had a thought in the back of my mind, even as early as when I gave my ash-beast that final hug at the greyhound station (thanks for that, by the way… I love you), wondering what I was getting myself into. I was always slightly hesitant… and I should have seen the signs.

I know I loved him, but I wonder if I was more in love with the IDEA of him… some sassy british emo boy who would whisk me away to the magical land of accents I’d always dreamed of.

I still do love him. I love him in a way that you love someone who you were close to for a very long time but have now become very distant. I love him fairly secretly and from far away. I find it easier to not have to actually face the emotions I still have for him because they make me feel all gross and lost.


I hate seeing his face because it reminds me that I fucked up and wasn’t strong enough to make this work… it is the face of the one thing that I couldn’t make right by crocheting, baking or cuddles. The face that used to look at me with such amazing love… such adoration. His face now only offers scowls and snarky smirks and I hate that. I hate to know that something that used to be so beautiful could have turned into something so ugly, just with the flick of an emotional light switch.

I hate hearing his voice because it is the one I spent so many hours listening to as I ramped up my foster parent’s phone bill. I hate it because that voice used to say such sweet things to me and make me feel so… in love. That voice has turned into something that I only associate with nagging, hateful remarks and snide comments.

I just want him gone now. I want him gone so I don’t have to face him whenever he is in the house. It is just awful and painful and not good for either of us. Our promises of getting through this as friends just seem further and further away with each passing day. I can’t stand being around him, so how should I be expected to play nicey when he is in one of his rare ‘I won’t be satan to danie’ days?

Urgh!

Then there’s the muffin. I just… it feels like every single day I love him just slightly more. I don’t know if it is possible or how much more my heart will be able to hold, but goddamn it feels good. I just feel this massive, swelling, glowing thing inside of my chest and it makes everything in the world seem perfect… like I have found that missing piece, that thing that I have been missing for the last six years, the one, special, blue-coloured cog that makes this machine emit nothing but sparkles and glee.


He makes every tiny little thing that I deal with on a day-to-day basis just so much easier, simply by being him and having that wonderful voice and those big blue eyes.


Amidst this forest of love though, there has to be the reality… the branch-covered ground. And there are a LOT of branches on the ground. Some of them are pretty and made of some special bubble-gum-scented wonderful and some seem to have been created in the mind of geiger.

I have to make sure that I don’t let this love balloon fill up TOO much because if it pops (which is clearly, always a possibility) I really don’t want to have to fall too hard.


He and I have been progressively having more serious talks. Primarily, this is due to the fact that I have been speaking to a lot of people about him and me and what our history looks like (I am aware that I haven’t really touched on this a great deal in my blogs, I promise you I will soon. It is an epic love story that deserves to be told, and perhaps made into a film by Hollywood. The film would star Janine Garofalo as danie, Jemaine Clement as the muffin and Johnny Depp as pow pow). I really haven’t gone into all the details with ANYONE… the most I tend to tell people is that the muffin has been married twice, he has three kids (and has been fixed so’s he cannae have anymore tiny muffins) and he has broken my heart countless times.

Clearly, just from that little snippit, there is reason for concern, but honestly, none of that really means anything to me… none of it has even offered me so much as an afterthought to the glory that our day-to-day wonderful is made of.


At least not until lately. See, because he is aware of the things he has done, he tends to be VERY cautious when speaking to me, skirting around any potential emotional mines that might be planted around topics such as his current wife, the kids or him breaking my heart. I try to make him understand that I am not an emotionally fraught girl who can’t distinct between the past and the future, that I am instead someone who is both forgiving AND in love with him and nothing will make me not want to be with him.


Even the big one… the clincher….

See, since November 2005 danie has been broody… and not just normal broody, but like, weepy-when-she-sees-a-really-cute-pram, broody. Danie has desperately craved to have a big, fat pregnant belly and then have a tiny creature made in her likeness (Hamish, for a boy and Lily for a girl). Danie has longed to make all the other kids in all the local schools jealous because she is the coolest, most wonderful baker in the land. Danie wants to be a mum. GOD danie wants to be a mum.

As a result of the muffin’s excellent judgement, he has three kids, three outrageously beautiful children who he loves dearly. Because of this, he has gotten himself fixed so as to stop any future spawning from occurring.

He dotes on his daughter, molly, the most as she is the one he is closest to and he cannot WAIT for me to meet her.

I try… GOD I try to make him understand that it will most likely be one of the hardest things ever to meet her for the first time. To know that I will never, ever have one of those that is just mine… it makes the pit of my stomach get all tense and my eyes immediately moist. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it will be for me to meet her. Like, just seeing photos of him with her, whilst they are glorious and she is just the cutest, most wonderful little girl ever, she’s just HIS and I will NEVER have one, ever.


I will never, ever be able to break the news to him in a supercute way that we will be having our own babycake.


I will never have him hold my hand during ultrasounds.

I will never, ever be able to have him play guitar and sing to my belly.

I’ll never be able to get all weepy when I’m in my last month, feeling super-fat and horrible, just to have him hold me and tell me how beautiful I am.

I’ll never have a tiny danie/danish of my own.

It’s just… when I think of it. The empty I feel in the pit of my stomach is indescribable. Knowing that there is this massive realm of life that I will be missing out on, it just totally baffles me. I don’t think it will really, actually hit though until I meet molly for the first time. Until I see that he has another, actual, tangible girl in his life that is tiny, looks exactly like him and is not even a little bit mine.

Of course, I will prance with her and help her bake and generally be the best step-mum I can be, but initially, it will be heartbreak, absolute heartbreak.

Clearly, with this heartbreak comes the muffin, ever-attempting to save me from myself. He says that if it is going to make me ache that much, I shouldn’t settle for him but… I know though, that not being with him would break me more than not having a tiny muffin to love. I know that the amount of wonderful things he and I are going to create are going to be so massive and will hopefully pale the fact that we will never have a tiny of our own in comparison.


I love him so much and I can’t help but feel really, REALLY deep down that it is going to be okay. That despite the fact that we will never have a tiny muffin, we will have masses of other things that will hopefully fill that void. I have no doubt in my mind that this is going to be okay and that I will never, ever live to regret this decision. 

mostly

well, me and my blogging has been made of fail as of lately and i apologise. it appears i am apologetic to nobody though, as noone reads this, which is neither sad, nor pleasing. i will continue to post (or not post) regardless of interested parties.

the last couple of months have been relatively brilliant. i went back to america for a visit and was thoroughly delighted with all things 'memory.' it was amazing to see everyone and everything that i remember and to investigate things anew that have been created withouth my prior consultation.

it was just generally so nice to feel like i connected. that is what that trip was about, to find where i needed to go and do something about it. it made me realise that america, cheyenne, is NOT my home anymore. england, derby is my home and i would never trade that for anything. the life i have created for myself here is so special and has made me flourish as a human being and the thought of leaving any of that behind is just incredibly upsetting.

going back to cheyenne also made me realise how much i care about my sister and how close we really are. we have a tremendous amount in common and all the things that i had initially fretted over regarding her and me going back were swept away in a flash when she looked at me like i was a real person and not just some zombie. i feel like in the time that i have been in england i have morphed into this reasonably responsible and mildly respectable person who my sister likes to spend time with. i have always been envious of people who had close relationships with their siblings and hated them secretly because my sisters and i were never close. i realise now that it is possible for us to be and that is so special. i have experienced this closeness with my sister and i would never take that back for anything.





coming back home... it was exciting and frightening all at once. i went to america with the sole purpose of finding myself again and i DID! i found myself in a huge way. as soon as i stepped into our front door i realised that i am not the person i have been acting like the last several months... i am the person i always have been and i need to retrieve that so i can be REALLY happy again.

and that is just what i have been doing. husband and i went through a bit of an insane phase once we returned, trying to decide what we were going to do to make something of our lives.... our options were completely open and we were willing to try anything. we contemplated dropping everything here and moving down with his dad and just starting a whole new life... being completely self-sufficient and uplifting all of our lives. our minds spun around things like that over and over for a week and it all became clear... we want a baby!

in light of our new revelation, husband and i are preparing... well, it is more about me preparing and him watching with an active opinion from the side-lines. it is very exciting and a whole new world of things to prance about and plan for. i have been packing clothes aside that would be suitable for maternity, making lists of people who have had babies recently who we could get baby things from at a cheaper price than our souls and just generally swooning over photos of pregnancy.

all in all, the world is delightful at the moment. we shall see what happens... i will keep you posted.