Potty Mouth

Sawyer is one of my most favorite characters on Lost.

I stumbled on the most precious gems of Lost compilations today featuring (hello!) Sawyer and a couple other Lost friends expressing their disgust over the years. Nothing makes a comic relief statement like a bleeping! expletive.



(sigh)

I'm going to miss this show...

Six going on Sixteen

My son has a teensy crush on Taylor Swift. Which is cute for a six (almost) 7 year old.

Note to family and friends:  David is asking for Taylor Swift pencils for his birthday.

Heck, I may even have a crush on Taylor Swift (in a I-wish-I-had-a-daughter kind of way). It's nice to know that there are some celebrities that aren't wading knee-deep in the "look at me, I am so much more important! and relevant! than you!" stage.... ala Heidi Montag, who, while no longer a teen has somehow reinvented herself into a Frankenstein'ish 40 year old.  Scary.

Note to older adult David:  This is not the girl you want to marry.

Did she realize she looked younger BEFORE the plastic surgery??

Anyway, certain milestones such as "crushes on teen queens" phase reminds me that my little guy is not so little anymore.

As evidenced by his pants size. At the beginning of the school year, I hemmed his uniform pants which were too long (then). Now? Just 7 months later, he has grown at least an inch and a half. Which means I have more hemming in my future. I should also mention that I never even knew how to hem until the last two years. Domesticated, I am not. The only reason I self taught myself is sheer laziness... if I knew a tailor I would pay to have it done.

Do you remember this picture?

One of my favorites. I want to say he was maybe 18 months here- sitting with Daddy on his new motorcycle.

Now?

If you are a Facebook friend, you saw that I posted a picture of S. giving David his first "real" ride on the Harley last weekend.

What a difference 5 years makes...

The first sign of Spring (besides the daffodils)

Inside Out

I recently attended a local adoption seminar at an agency. I hesitate to write about it, because my reaction to it was unexpected.

I sort of walked into it with the task of obtaining information on domestic adoption. Get in, and get out. I am the sort of person that needs to chew on an idea after I've gathered initial information. So the surprise was on me, THIS information session was out of my comfort zone.

When S. and I got there, we sat in a small room with about 6 other couples. I sat with an inch thick folder on my lap which I procured on the way in. I watched the clock. The meeting started late. The social worker, a really nice person, gave her speech which sort of went off the beaten path a hundred times over... that was okay... but of course there's always the guest who monopolizes the conversation.

I started to get annoyed. The business person in me is thinking, "this is an information session, not a personal one on one interview". Give the necessary info to the crowd, and leave it up to the individuals to stay and ask questions.

I started to zone out, and fidget. And after an hour had passed, they brought in a lovely couple with their newborn baby to share their own journey. I listened to their story, and as I did I scanned the room and noticed that the other women were almost in tears. I was not. I was detached. I wanted to escape.

Again, I found myself in a place that was unfamiliar. Almost like we did not belong. We seemed to be the oldest in the room. We were the only couple that had a child at home. The other couples looked like Barbie and Ken clones. All I could envision in that moment was disappointment. 

It had nothing to do with the topic at hand... I was very much interested in it. I just felt like I didn't belong there, like there was a spotlight above our head. The odd couple out.

I also had little interest in dwelling on the obvious emotion that was hanging in the room. It felt cheap.  Unnecessary.  It was just too much. I didn't come there to be sucked into the vortex they attempted to create.

At the two hour mark I stood up, excused myself nicely and S. and I left. It was a quiet drive home.

I'm not even sure where that all came from that night. The agency seemed great. The employees seemed nice. I came home with more information than I could ever ask for.

I just feel weird about it. Unsettled.

This path is proving to be more than I bargained for.

I feel.... fine?

Smile tho’ your heart is aching,

Smile even tho’ it’s breaking,

When there are clouds in the sky

You’ll get by,

If you smile

thro’ your fear and sorrow,

Smile and maybe tomorrow,

You’ll see the sun come shin-ing thro’ for you

Light up your face with gladness,

Hide ev-’ry trace of sadness,

Al -’tho a tear may be ever so near,

That’s the time,

You must keep on trying,

Smile, what’s the use of crying,

You’ll find that life is still worth-while,

If you just smile
Music Composed by Charlie Chaplin, Recorded by Nat “King” Cole on Capital Records.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I've been in a bit of a weird place lately. I think a lot has to do with the fact that my life is very different now than it has been for the last 5 years.

Last week, while sitting in the big comfy chair at my therapist's office, she asked me a very simple question. "How are you feeling?"

You know, it's crazy, but no one in real life asks me that question. And if they do, it's more like "How are you?" like in the casual conversation kind of way. You know, when you are SUPPOSED to say, "Fine" or "Good", but no one REALLY wants the truth, or wants to hear a 10 minute dissertation to the question...

My answer to her, "depends on the day..." and isn't that really the truth for everyone?

The difference for me is I feel like my days are jammed with work, and schedules, and cooking, and homework with David, and chores, and a multitude of activities which serves other people, but not me.

I feel empty.

"Who else do you talk about your daily struggles with besides your husband?"

To which I replied, "well, lately.... no one really."

And then the conversation flowed to that one topic that bugs the shit out of me. The fact that other people are living their lives, happy and engaged, and most of them... don't have a clue what it's like to be on the dark side.

I truly cannot bear the "Mommy" thing. The school parties, the events where the Moms gather around and complain about not having time to sleep or get their nails done. The ones that I. MUST. HAVE. totally FAKE conversations with. On the basketball court, in the neighborhood, family/friend events, parties, and the grocery store. It's like the world is turning without me because I have no interest in the "chatter" between Moms.

For me, I exist between two worlds. One foot in the Mom world, and the other foot in the non-Mom world.

I don't quite fit in either of them.

Mel wrote a great post yesterday about putting on "the smile". The one that shields you from the bullets other people hurl at you that can break your heart. The one resource that we infertiles have to safeguard ourselves from making a scene crying in the grocery store when we meet an old friend who has been! pregnant! 4! times! by accident! omg!

The "smile" is something I carry with me every time I walk out of the door.  And lately, it's been getting harder and harder to not show the crack in my smile.  And, it's plain EXHAUSTING.

So where does that leave me? Well, according to therapist Anne, I need to make an effort to start having real-life interaction with like-minded individuals. Hey, not that you on-line buddies aren't the bees knees! It's just I really don't have a that person IRL that I can commisserate and share these dark feelings with. Someone who has first-hand experience with infertility in the way I have. Where they did not succeed and stopped treatment. Or stopped and pursued adoption.  Anne thinks I should put out feelers for a support group in my area.

Because, you know, that's a lot less desperate than standing in line at Starbucks with a shirt that reads... 

(Are YOU an infertile?  Have you failed where others always SUCCEED?  Are you a fertility clinic dropout?  Please have coffee with me and let's DISCUSS!)

When I leave my session with Anne, I always feel good. And most of that is because she did walk almost the same path as I did. She defines infertility as a "life crisis" and draws parallels between infertility and going through any other serious illness. The difference? Infertilty is not terminal. Which in her opinion, makes it all the worse since you can never-ever-ever escape it. The outcomes are different, but it is something we will forever carry to our deaths.

Peachy, huh?

667

This post is going to be a lot about nothing. You see, I popped on to my blog dashboard and saw my last post was #666 on BagMomma.

Cleary, I don't need any more bad mojo around these parts so I present to you, post 667... representing all things not connected with the devil.

Ok, so now that's out of the way.

I've been a bit tired and headachey this week, and I guess I need to attribute that to lack of sleep. I've been doing a lot of TV watching this week which has been cutting in to my sleepytime.

Of course, Monday I couldn't bear to go to bed before confirming the rumors were true- Jake picked Vienna on The Bachelor. Oh hell no! Truth be told, I was prepared. You see, I read one of those spoiler sites that mapped out the entire season before it even started. Why do I even care about this crap, I'll never understand... but I was hooked.

Poor Tenley was left curbside, like a real-life horrifying Disney plot (her profession prepared her well)... like when Bambi's mother was shot by a hunter, or Nemo's mother was eaten by a shark. The audience was equal parts shocked and let down. I have to hand it to the braintrust from The Bachelor... geniuses. Instead of the traditional happy ending, the villainess wins. You know Jake's mother is having a sh!t fit over this.

Credit: ABC

And Jake must be some sort of Golden Ticket for ABC. Now he's on DWTS too! Talk about extending his fifteen minutes of fame... three TV seasons with this dude. He's going to need the extra cash, because we all know Vienna is high maintenance. Kidding! Not.

I'm also blissfully taking in the last episodes of Lost. I am so bummed that this is it. I've never truly been addicted to a series like I have with Lost. No spoilers here, but I will say it looks like we reached the top of the mountain, and it's all downhill now.

This is the time when there is no "jumping the shark", and we finally get to see the plot and the characters go bonkers.  Love it.