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?

empire state of mind

back in ny. thinking mode. not mommy mode. missing children terribly. deep in thought about friends, those close to me and how i love them dearly. not family for a change. i love my losers, independent thinkers if you will. i don't think they are but others would disagree. if you are real you are a looser, you managed to miss the boat of cool, you know the one that's chugging along the mainstream. and got left behind to do your own thing. and i love you for it. marching to your own tune, monetarily successful or not, chances are you can measure your accomplishments by those who love you. and i love you. so there you go.

10-9-09

today is a day of firsts. first swim lesson for the baby, first dance for the 10 year old. sigh

invincible

invincible; yeah, that's what i am. i believe i have become invincible. overwhelmed and still sad-ish and depressed-esque, i'm still here. i live! i'm still alive! months ago i thought straight up thought i was not going to survive living on my own for the first time in my life, especially with the children as the cake-topping cherry. But, much like cher after a nuclear holocaust, i'm still here. tired and ten years older, i've emerged invincible, self aware, and i'm ready to pat myself on the back, shake the chip of the ole' shoulder.
not so fast. i'm not ready to leave the house, get them cocktails and rejoin society just yet. this hard livin' takes a toll. my nails shredded, my hair greasy, i pay the price. it's ok. i'm aware. self-aware.
as soon as i stopped trying to regain the life of yore, i released myself of that pressure. the pressure of the imposible. i'm never gonna be who i was 10 months and 4 weeks ago. ne-ver. nunca. jamais. and it's not due to an epiphany or my "intelligence" that i've been lucky enough to come to this realization, but due to lack of energy. i just didn't have it in me to continue on failing.
as soon as i saw clearly that i'm no longer gaby v., nuclear family of three, i was able to move on.
i then put on my size 14's and looked honestly in the mirror. "i have to start from scratch. rewrite the book on myself." i thought. this should be fun.

sep 21 09 helping hand is not the same as back handed

two people so far, moms of course, grandmas even, have come out and commented (cough cough attacked cough cough) my looks in the last two weeks. one even pleaded "take time for yourself!" full of concern and worry they both inquired about the lack of attention to my hair, makeup, clothes, weight. both of these ladies have many things in common. They are both plastic surgery fanatics, both obssesed with youtfulness, and they are very present in the childrens and grandkids' lives. both of them have have also facilitated their daughters' return to "normalcy" after babies.
i have no husband, no mother, no father and no inlaws in sight. i soldier on alone, yet i'm still held up to ridiculous standards. i'm angry, and angrier as i type.. why do mothers think we should all be the same? that we should all prescribe to the same type of bullshit, and that cookie cutter is the only way to go for a woman? why can i pick a diffrent path? look like dogshit?
i dont know about the rest of you, but i'm not the mom i was a year ago; i'm not the mom i was 3 weeks ago! without fail, just as i get used to my duties and schedules (and the driving, my god the fucking driving) poof! it all begins again. a new tooth, a new friend, a new lesson. six weeks is the max until another big change happens and then i adjust.
from the infant years to the highschool years, the only thing about motherhood that is constant is change itself. i'm embarrassed to even be writing about it, but it seems that it's not clicheed enough to be left alone, as proven by these well meaning, in the box thinking grannies.
can i compete with a mom that always looks hot, has time to go to the gym, fuck her husband and go to mommy and me? in the words of the immortal whitney houston, hell to the no! and i dont want to, because i cant. i made my decision a few weeks into single working motherhood. i made a list of what was going to be prioritized in my new life. kids first. and since april, i pretty much haven't had a breath to think about the rest of the list.
people have personal issues, and make personal choices. some of those people even happen to be mothers! lets just leave them alone, shall we? and if we really are so concerned about how they look or what they wear or how they parent then give them a helping hand, because a back handed comment is all that it takes to send someone into the deep end. (not me though)

sep 15

i had a bunch of drafts, but i supposed if i dont log in daily its hard to keep up with this motherhood/literatti/takeover lifestyle.
as singel motherhood continues to take up every inch of my life, (well the children do, not the motherhood) i continue to graduate from human to just full on mom. it has overtaken me and i really am not putting up i fight. i could with the one, but the addition has just brought me to my knees. i'm happy, so for t he time being, i dont really care. do i miss my friends? sure. do i wanna dress up and to stay up past 9 to see them? no. do i i have extra money to spend on pricey dinners or parties? not in the slightest. its a win win.
these days, or shall i say day, my hapiness is measured in bizzare ways.
you see, i'm on a day to day basis with my relationship with myself, the cosmos and those around. i have so many schedules to conform to (baby, boy, school, work, nanny, far off husband, organic buying club, target)) that come 4pm i want no obligations. no gym. no nada. i'm getting the hang of it. just get all my shit done, run the kids around a bit, you know exhaust them and then pass out. all this running tolls on my energy. to them its just business as usual.
so what if i'm boring, introspective, ordinary? thats ok, i'm gearing up to take over the world later, once i'm able to stay up past ten.