rude awakening today

it's always the day you change the sheets, comforter, pillows, crib toys, that the blasted diaper won't hold up through the night. talk about rude awakening.

emotional productivity is very time consuming.

i haven't been writing for a while. i've been mothering a lot instead of bitching about it.

i'll be back...

sick child

having a sick child has got to be one of the hardest challenges as a parent. it's ever worse if you are a working parent, or single parent or whatever. my son has had a months long bout with ear infections. i go into the doctor they give me an antibiotic and i'm there again a week later, averaging 2 times per week for a few months. very expensive i might add. now its his turn to get the surgery. i made the call to the ENT before the refferal. it was my instinct and i was getting sick of just being sent home without an answer and only a prescription.
it's exausted me at no avail. the waiting room at the pedriatician, the co-pay. its a dance. a dance that has left me feeling like i've been training for a mental marathon. putting your kids health in the hands of others, namely anyone BUT the doctor. there's all these people involved and the doctor does about 10% of the work. its so much energy wasted. you never see the same person, no one knows the child's history. how has this happened. how did pediatric practices turn into this? how can a doctor work under such conditions? the ever revolving door of little faces that look diffrent every time they see them? so many medical mistakes i'm sure.
and this week? i'll probably go three times. three copays. next time pre-op. surgery. all the time off work. there's gotta be a simpler way.

what it means today, on hump day

motherhood today means putting everything on hold. this includes but is not limited to: well earned mental breakdowns, sex dates with your partner, travel, career ambition, hair appointments, funerals, and even death.
xoxo

my mother, myself

on friday i picked up my mom, who had just announced that she was leaving her life in ecuador to come live the american dream. we have a history so i said that was great, but i could not help her. she has other kids, other family. full of hope however, i decided to have stay with me instead of my sisters (they had guests staying with them) until sunday morning wheni had to go to an event.
full of hope and wine i drove to the airport to find a woman in need of affection, a mental health professional and some tough love. we held. i offered my help on the condition she tell the truth. SHE SAID SHE WOULD. unfortunatley her disease lied for her, from the first syllable.
on her physical appearance, i dont recall much, all i could see were bruises, the remnants of a black eye, maybe "clumsiness" marks on her legs. i could not look closely as my head would blow and my heart would break.
i had my weekend planned with her. but i've never said planning was my forte. made baked chicken (excellent), pizza for dinner. disaster for breakfast. sunday she lost it. she cant be around us unless we can offer her love via money or buying things, buying her love. her parents did it, my father did it, now she expects it from us, her children. she cant love you unless you have something tangible in return, a cell fone, a small beauty sample, cash. its all the same.
LOVE=THINGS to her, sometimes favors. any other love, she cannot comprehend, she doesnt have the tools, my old shrink would say. i say spoiled brat. wah wah lollipop syndrome. shut her mouth with something. her attention span isnt what it used to be, and her grandkids werent enough. i'm broke, emotionally and financially bankrup, so she has no use for me.
she didnt want me. she wanted to use me. two diffrent things.
she broke things, threw cell fones. my own private naomi campbell. and just like naomi she blammed everyone but herself. blah blah. typical addict behavior. the police were rung (a first for me) and like white trash it all went down on my porch. she left and that was it. just a lot of broken glass and pride to sweep off the ground.
i was called many names including pig, and was wished the worse wishes anyone ever wants to hear. my mother wishes me the worse. aint that something. well i got the worse mom, so i guess bejezus heard her.
and in a cloud of chaos she left. i stood up for myself, for my kids and she's gone. i wish i could say i was liberated, but my shackles are only stronger now. but i set some boundaries. I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER. nothing sadder that parenting your parents cause it comes with the mourning of the dead parent. and right now i'm mourning the loss. the loss of my family, the loss of my parents and the loss of my mother.
of my family all i have is the bag of bones, which one day i will ash on top the remains of canudos. until then, who knows. like i said im in mourning.

officially a lepper

thank you facebook, you have confirmed what i have been suspecting for the last couple of months. new mom=lepper. nobody wants anything to do with me, especially now that the thing toddles and walks into things (to borrow from dana carvey) just like a drunk midget. and its no secret nobody wants to hang around with a drunk midget or his handler.
along with the misterious dissapearance of sex, is also the disapearance of friends, even family. they scatter like flies and even lie to me in regards to their whereabouts, house parties and/or drinks tey have together. but the evidece is there via drunken facebook pics. now thats what i call official confirmation.

aftermath

after the confession i made to myself (and later to my spouse over the phone) i have been judging myself and my abilities to raise children. "How could you ever show prefference" is what i always told my father. i always always always had that complaint. he was not fair with his affection, and i believe that i havent been either. since patrick left, and giving into the pressure of nik being left out i have neglected my baby in an emotional level. this is just my own phsychoanalisis but i think i might be on to something. after ten years of having one, i have no idea how to balance 2. the love the affection, the face time, all of it. i'm not sure what i'm doing. i mean i know how to do the work. i just dont know how to balance it out so that both kids get their fair share of mom.
what i am sure is that after being totally surprised by my own admission i have made a concious effort to stop making excuses and start looking at myself from outside when it comes to my kids. so what if the baby is high maintenance? i need to stop comparing him to the boy and just give it up. the thing needs me like no other and i'm giving in. sue me.

missing ending

something happened with the last post. so here is the ending

my epiphany comes in that sort of feeling i get with or towards andes. he's my little stranger born into us, part of the future but not the past because his dad is not around. he's like a visiting uncle. i feel betrayal to both the darczuks and andes. what can he latch onto as a little boy, if there is no papa? how can i betray my husband who does exsit and be both? i've always wished i had a penis, and i so more today than ever, for the children i mean. but until then come home darling. just come home. the darczuk famly limbo is becoming hard to handle.

confession

as my days grow darker and my depression seems to worsen, i decided to go to nyc to visit my husband. i took the firstborn with me, and was touched when he thanked me with a kiss for "taking me to see daddy" that's a lot for nik, who is a thankless child in a thankless age.

new york was as usual bitter and sweet. we try to figure out what to do, we are not tourists and we are not locals. the theme of my life continues just with a diffrent twist. pat and i are trying to be in coupledom and balance the need to be a family for at least 2 days. the balance is off on friday, perfect on saturday and terrible on sunday when we all quiet down and the cruelty of the situation becomes apparent. we have to go. get on a plane and go. again. it never gets easier. on the contrary it gets harder. there are no surprises anymore. i know what i'm coming home to, i know what my children are lacking and i know that there is no end in sight. same goes for their father, my dearest, he knows the same yet he diligently drives around trying to entertain ourselves, keep nik happy nd get in some time with me. its all but impossible and we end up just thankful to be together.

it was during this trip that i realized i havent bonded with the baby the way i should or thought i had. i always feel like he's an intruder. unintentionally. i love him, adore him, but he's not part of the family, because my patrick is missing. the family aint complete and there was never a family for him to belong to. just a single mom and a brother. he's my son, nik's brother but he does not have a daddy, the same way that i dont have a husband.

my epiphany comes in the

posts get less and less frequent, mostly because i have no life. well no life apart from that of caregiver, chauffer, maid, cook, mother. i've graduated to some sort of single motherhood that i did not expect was there, behind the door i opened when i let all this happen to me.
"this" is getting married young, having no career, being brought up without aspiration, not living within my means, beeing a late bloomer, being a coward, being scared, depression, anxiety, parental divorce. the list could go on, but i certainly cant listen to myself whine, much less expect anyone else to.
i'm my harshest critic; i get that. i'm my everything at this point. my travel agent, my cheerleader, my sister, my cousin, my aunt, my husband, my friend. my war is my own and i have no one else to share it with. my pain is so specialized that it's become hard to find a kindred spirit. my mom friends actually get the part where we want to die at night when the baby's unconsolable because of the ear infection, but that's about it. i'm not putting down their support by any means, but as my family disentangles from me as quickly as my creditors i feel that i'm nothing but alone. and for the first time in a while, or ever LONELY.
i've managed to pick up the pieces that were available and made my nest, a new place to start fresh. a roof for my children, a schoolbus. but i have no one to share it with. even with all this i'm always filled with doubt. have i done the right thing? is all this shit i've orchestrated leading me to the path of greatness? i've given up on that path, but am helping pave it for my kids at the moment. seems to be the only option, but what, what is that feeling of desperation that is still lit within that says "dont forget gaby"? what is it? and more important, why wont it stop?