Collecting All Prayers and Positive Thoughts....

I am so beyond grateful to every single person who has offered me support in the past few months (and especially in the past few hours). Tomorrow is likely going to be one of the hardest days of my life and hearing all of the messages people are sending me truly makes a difference. I know that, if nothing else, I am not alone.

After meeting with my attorney today, I was more confused than ever. She still seems to think that a settlement is possible, however she acknowledges that F and I are worlds apart. Here is how I am thinking of my options as of right now:

Option A: We meet tomorrow with the goal of settling. This likely means I cave on a number of things. I am not leaning this way. As mentioned in my earlier post, there are just too many ridiculous, disruptive, unreasonable requests that are not in her best interests nor are they practical. If there is any way we do settle, we will have joint legal custody and I will or will not have "final say."

Option B: We proceed to trial. Here, there are any number of outcomes. 
  
                My Best Case: I seek and get sole custody. The judge delays the overnights until at least one year
                old so that she can have milk at night. He gets one weeknight visit per week.

               My Worst Case: Judge orders joint custody (not really a loss since I was offering that all along). 
               She orders overnights to begin immediately and he gets her for a full weekend. He gets two                          weeknight visits per week.

              Most Likely: some combination of the above. Maybe I get sole custody but he gets the visitation he               wants immediately. Or maybe we get joint custody but visitation goes my way.

Now the weighing begins....If she were two years old, I would go to trial in a heartbeat. I will never want him to have overnights. Ever. But this isn't, and hasn't been, about me. If she were two, I could explain it to her: "You are going with daddy for two nights and you are staying at Grandma and Grandpa's and you are going to have so much fun! Mommy will see you in two days and you can call me if you miss me!" Then she could have her milk, go to sleep and I can miss her. But she's not two. And I can't explain any of that. And she can't just have her milk and go to sleep. So it sucks for her. Completely sucks. Am I willing to risk that in order to (1) try for sole custody (and not have to consult him and deal with the arguing and bullying for the rest of my life); (2) get less frequent weekday visitation (less disruption to my schedule AND hers, less time she is being put in the car and driven around every week); and (3) not deal with any of the other unreasonable requests (the Skyping and the scheduling dr's appointments around his schedule and the 24-hour notice of earlier visitation times and the written notice of any "activities or events" planned for her - the list goes on and on...)? I don't know.

I will sleep on it. You know how much sleep I will get tonight? Yes, you do. So, again - I am shamelessly collecting prayers and positive thoughts. All I want is an outcome that is fair to my baby - not to me, not to him. No one is "winning" here. I just don't want her to lose.

Love,
Momeo and Juliette
XOXO

Less Than 48 Hours...

So here we are. The week I thought would never come. Tomorrow I meet with my attorney to prepare for a trial. I am having a trial. If you asked me at any point in my life if I thought I would ever be in this position, I would have thought you crazy. Completely. And yet, in less than 48 hours, I will be putting my daughter's fate in a complete stranger's hands.

Some people may think, "then why are you doing that? Why can't you agree with him?" Well, I just cannot. He wants so many things that I am opposed to for so many reasons. Here are some examples:

• Overnights: He wants them either now or at 1 year old. By 18 months old, he wants her for two consecutive nights. At 2 1/2 years old, he wants her for a full week away from me. At 3, he wants her for TWO consecutive weeks away from me. Not a chance. [Mind you, she is 8 months old. She is exclusively breastfed, never had a bottle of even pumped milk. She co-sleeps with me - has never spent a night not next to me. This doesn't seem to matter to him. Additionally, we live about 25 minutes away from one another. I don't think two consecutive weeks are ever necessary unless special circumstances require it.]
• At 2: He wants alternating weekends and two weeknights per week. I wanted one weeknight per week. I offered to split the difference and do one weeknight the weeks preceding his weekends and two nights the week before my weekends. He refused. 
• He wants 72-hour written notice of any "event or activity" I plan for her. [Need I comment?]
• He wants to be able to give me 24-hour notice to call and say, "Instead of taking her tomorrow night from 5:30 - 8 pm as planned, I am getting her at 10 am until 8 pm." That's at 2 years old. Once she's 3, he wants to be able to do the same, except pick her up the night before. [No. I am entitled to a predictable routine as is she. I am entitled to make plans and not have to change them within 24 hours because he decided to take off of work. This is way too open-ended and he'd take advantage as he does with everything else.]
• He wants me to need his written consent to move. Across the street. Down the block. Next town over. Anywhere. [Don't think so. He is not my keeper. By the way, he lives somewhere he can't even take her right now and alleges he will be moving out anytime now. So apparently, he can pick up and move as he sees fit but I cannot. The chances of me moving are slim to none. I own my house, live next door to my parents and just had a complete home makeover. But that is besides the point.]
• His holiday requests are not in her best interest either. He wants her the day before the holiday, the day of, and the day after. [I don't feel it's appropriate to make her be away from either side of the family for all three days surrounding a holiday - it's selfish. We live close. There is no reason we can't split days or just do a full day with alternating years. Again, it's never enough for him.]
• He wants me to be mandated to "return his calls/Facetime/Skype as soon as possible" after he reaches out when it is my parenting time. [For a normal person, this may not seem like a terrible idea. However, this is a person who sends me weekly video messages for an 8 month old. He's been sending them since she's 3 months old. When I give her my phone, she licks it. She does not understand a video message. He also "demanded" a daily pic and video before I put her to bed every night beginning when she was around 3 weeks old because, apparently, I had nothing else going on here to worry about. I'm only a first time mom, here by myself, trying to get my baby on a routine and breastfeed her and it is demanded that I stop to send a video of a motionless, soundless baby right before she crashes for the night. Impracticable.]

These are just the highlights. I cannot agree to ridiculous things that will impact my daughter's future and mine in such a consistent, disruptive manner. I cannot do it. I also proposed joint custody for the sake of reaching an agreement but now that that has not happened, I will seek sold custody. It is clear that we are not able to communicate with one another about her best interests. At all.

I feel I have no choice. I have to fight for her and somewhere in the midst of that fight, I need to fight for myself. He gets to come in, think only of himself, fight for whatever he wants and if he "loses, " he loses. As he said to me months ago, he has "nothing to lose." So he will drag the mother of his child through a trial because, hey - why not? 

His daughter's week, by the way, is also going to suck. He doesn't think about that. She has a stressed out mom who is consumed by this, to begin with. She will spend the day at the attorney's office tomorrow. She will be woken up and dragged to court on Wednesday where she will remain with my sister until I am free to come breastfeed her (which I am confident will not be on the schedule she is accustomed to). She will then eat in the car where we try not to bump her head on doors and windows and gear shifters. Then she gets to be taken home by a stressed out mother and it may possibly repeat the next day. It's awful. I am tearing up just thinking about it.

He picked her up this morning at 9:30 and I had my father answer the door and bring her out. I am sure he was surprised by that, but good. Hopefully it sent a message to him: if you can't behave like a respectful, normal adult, you get no contact. When he brought her back at 1, my father had just run out so I had to get the door. I didn't even look at his face - ever. I can't bring myself to. I have lost all respect for him - every ounce. I took her from him, came inside and shut the door. I wish I could shut the door of my life on him.

So - if you are reading this, we are accepting all prayers. All positive thoughts. All good vibes. I truly believe in the power of positive thinking and of good people and will gladly accept anything you have to offer in that department.

Keep us in mind and send me strength as well.

Love,

Momeo and Juliette

XOXO

And This Is My Life...

I know I mentioned that I would tell a story in my next post, and I promise I will get to that very soon, but some other things have developed since then and I'd be lying if I said I could think about anything else.

I am facing the fact that in five days, I will be going to trial over custody and visitation of my daughter. Even reading back those words - seeing them in print - brings tears to my eyes. I cannot believe that this is my life. I do not know how I ended up here. It's surreal in the most awful way possible. 

I am sharing this for a few reasons. One of them is that writing helps me vent - it organizes my thoughts, it expels things from my head and sometimes - not always, but sometimes - I feel a bit of relief afterwards. Another reason is to memorialize all of this - how I am feeling, what has happened. I want a record of this so that afterwards, when things settle a bit, I will never forget how I was feeling and what I went through. A third reason is the most hopeful reason - I hope that it can, one day, help at least one other person. Being in this situation, I have reached out to other women who have been in similar circumstances. Hearing their experiences, good or bad, helps me tremendously. It gives me some heads up about what I can expect and more importantly, it makes me feel less alone. Someone else, somewhere out there, has traveled a similar road and made it. 

It would be nearly impossible to capture in words, nevertheless in blog entries, what I have been through with F. Impossible. For now, I will update some of the facts about our current status. We have our trial date set for this coming Wednesday. It has been set for about two months. Leading up to that date being set, we have been to court numerous times already - I lost track. Each time is especially awful and I cannot tell you how much I hate (and that's a very strong word, but accurate) being in that building. In that environment. It makes me physically ill every time I have gone there. Each time at court so far has been fairly similar. I meet my attorney there at our appointed time. My attorney and his attorney go in to speak to the judge. The judge tells us to try and work it out among ourselves. We talk in the hallway trying to come to some agreement about visitation. In the past, we were able to come up with a temporary agreement for the next few months. Other times, we get nowhere. We then get assigned another date to return for yet another conference. The judge will then ask - again - if we have come to a settlement. The attorneys say no and they assign another date in the future, telling us to again try to work it out before then. Well, we have used up all of those adjournments and conferences. It is now time to get the case taken care of. (The Family Court has these things called "Standards and Goals" and they state that the case must be completed within 6 months of being filed. I filed in April so by November, it needs to be completed. The judge will not schedule a trial last-minute in case it needs to get pushed back for an emergency, hence the mid-October date set for us.)

In the past few weeks, we have been sending proposals back and forth. First, F and I started this on our own without attorneys. I sent him what I wanted. I told him it was my bottom line - it was. He didn't believe me and sent it back with a ton of changes and additions. I agreed to some minor changes but nothing major and sent it back again. He then got extremely pissed off at me because he asked to change one of his scheduled visitation dates. I told him I would accommodate him for that change and for many more in the future if he would just agree, sign the settlement, and allow us to move forward from all of this. He told me I was "blackmailing" him (the same thing he said when I went for child support). I don't think he understands the meaning of that word. I refuse to fight with him, especially when he resorts to personal attacks and attacks about me as a mother via text. I ignored him and then started going through my attorney once more.

My attorney and I then receive yet another proposal from him and it contained some ludicrous things that I would never, ever agree to (a full week away from me when she is 2 1/2 years old; 24 hour notice to pick her up at 10 am on some days instead of 5:30 pm and keeping her until 8 pm, 2 consecutive weeks away from me when she is 3 years old, etc...) I met with my attorney, we went through it in detail and then sent it back. That was last week - my attorney has heard nothing. Neither had I...until last night.

F, again, wanted to change his upcoming visitation time for the weekend. He is supposed to have her on Saturday for the day and wanted to switch it to Sunday. I explained at court (where he asked through his attorney) that I could not  - I have a family even planned on Sunday. My attorney convinced me to allow him to take her Monday instead. I agreed but said she had to be home a couple of hours earlier than usual because I have plans later in the day. F was going to see if he could get off work to take her. I heard nothing.

Last night, he brought her home at 8 pm when his weekday visitation was over. I still didn't know what was going on for this weekend so I asked if he was taking her on Saturday. He said no, that he was taking her Monday and I said, "Ok, but she needs to be back by 1 then." Then he lost it. Flipped out. Got nasty immediately and started asking why. I explained I had plans and he responded by asking, "what is more important than her spending time with her father?!" I think he had temporary amnesia and forgot that HE was the one who had uber-important plans on Saturday and was cancelling his regularly scheduled day with her. I didn't reply because he was heated. I was holding the baby and he was in my house (no one else was around). I said, "I am accommodating you and if you aren't happy with 1 on Monday, you can have her at the regular time on Saturday." He continued to raise his voice and say sarcastic things. I finally said, "Get out." As he was fighting with me, he was leaning over me, trying to kiss the baby. I was backing up instinctually. He then said, "the proposal you sent me was a disgrace, Liz. So I will see you Wednesday and we will let the cards fall where they may." Well that just pissed me off - he was continuing to fight with me even though I stopped speaking and was telling him to get out. I said, "well then I am not accommodating you anymore. You can have her Saturday or not at all." I shut the door and locked it. He was then yelling from outside my house, "I will BE here Monday, Liz! I will be here!" I said, "well we will not be."

Then I was scared. I was shaking and on the verge of tears. That's when the hatred comes - how dare he? How dare he speak to me like that? How dare he pull that shit in front of HIS child? She is a baby. I held it together long enough to nurse her and put her into bed and then I lost it. For the first time, I was scared to be in my house alone. I pulled all of the curtains closed. I locked and double and triple-checked my front door. I called my brother-in-law but he was with all of his kids and couldn't come over. I knew my sister would be home shortly so I stayed on the phone with my brother-in-law until she got here. I hated him. He manages to twist absolutely everything around. He forgets that he has refused to compromise with me. We have court-ordered visitation scheduled. When he wanted me to pick her up 20 minutes early two weeks ago so he could get his haircut, I did. When he had to change last week to go to a Yankee game, I changed. When he wants to change this weekend, I gave him an alternative. I don't HAVE to do that. Instead of playing nice (even if it's completely fake) he comes in here acting entitled and angry and childish. He is then nasty and disrespectful. It truly blows my mind. Then I know - with 100% certainty - that he leaves here feeling like the victim! It's not normal. He is delusional.

Of course today, he called his attorney who called my attorney who reached out to me (so this cost us each no less than $150) about it. His attorney said that HE was trying to accommodate MY schedule and I "adamantly refused" and then "threatened to not make the baby available on Monday." Well, it was partly true. I reminded everyone that I was the one accommodating HIM. And I didn't "threaten" to not make her available, I told him she no longer would be. That's a fact, not a threat. Long story - my attorney convinced me to offer back either his regularly scheduled Saturday time or the shorter time on Monday that I originally offered. I did so for my daughter's sake and for my attorney's. Certainly not for his. I will now have my father here when he comes to get her on Monday and we will see if he mouths off to him. We'll see if he's still such a bully and so nasty. I doubt it. 

In the meantime, I have a meeting with my attorney at 2 pm on Tuesday to prepare for a 9:30 am trial on Wednesday. To say I am flipping out is an understatement. I am fighting for my child - I am the ONLY one in this entire disaster of a situation that has HER best interests at heart. He has shown me- again and again - that he has not grown up. He will never put her first - it is all a battle between him and I in his eyes. He cannot see past his resentment of me and it is so, so sad. So pathetic. He feels badly for himself and he wants to "win." He wants to "show me." What he doesn't realize is that neither of us will "win." Our daughter is losing. She is losing the hope for two parents to ever peacefully co-parent. She is losing the chance of having a father that her mother respects. 

So my daughter will now spend Tuesday afternoon at an attorney's office. She will then spend the entire day on Wednesday at Family Court. If he "wins," he will get her for a full weekend starting soon. Then she really loses. She loses the comfort and security of her home, her bed, her mother, the only food she knows. She likely loses her trust in me for leaving her for two days and will lose trust in her father because when she is with him, she will know she is missing other things (like her mother and her right to breastfeed). To say it is sad is an injustice - it is heartwrenching. But it seems I am the only one who cares about that.

I will spend the rest of my weekend loving her up and preparing for a trial on my own. I am going in there fighting for her - every step of the way. I will argue about breastfeeding and attachment parenting and co-sleeping and her rights. I will argue about overnights and age-appropriateness. I will seek sole custody because now he will "get" only what a judge orders me to give him. He has lost my respect and therefore anything I would have voluntarily agreed to. My heart is so sad and I still cannot believe that this is my life.

Please say prayers for us,
Momeo and Juliette 
XOXO

Stuck In The Middle

I've been avoiding writing about my life here - maybe subconsciously, maybe not. The truth is, it depends what moment you catch me. Right now, at this moment, I am what I'm starting to think of as "stuck in the middle." I'm not in a bad place, but I'm not overly happy. Juliette goes with her father tomorrow from 9:45 a.m. until 4:30 p.m. It is a really long day for me. I get up with her in the morning and feed her really quickly. I then have to make sure she nurses for a full session at almost exactly 9:30 so that she's done when he gets here and it holds her over until noon. At noon, I go to F's parents' house to nurse her. I then try to get her to nap in the crib, but it isn't easy there because I can't leave her with my phone playing music (because then I am stuck there or I have to leave my phone). I had been picking her up at 3:30 pm every Saturday but now he is supposed to have an extra hour starting this month. I am really upset about this because she is typically starving at 3:30 when I get her and I need to feed her immediately. I don't know how she is going to do with an additional hour. And I know he will certainly not call me and tell me to come get her because things are not good between us. Although that shouldn't matter in the least, I have seen his true colors and I know that not only does it matter, but it controls everything. It sucks. 

I am trying so hard not to let this get me into a negative place. We had such a great day today and a great night - celebrated my brother Matt's 30th birthday. We also have a great weekend to look forward to - fireworks tomorrow night at our beach followed by Sunday dinner and a special viewing party for a show on Sunday (will blog about that next week - a whole story itself that I need to share!) 

But it's hard. It's really hard. I hate this for her. I hate that she has to be away from me for so long. I hate that she is going to want to nurse and I would know that. And I would feed her. But I won't be there and he will not acknowledge it so she will just have to deal with it - at eight months old.  I know I am not the most objective person, but I find it so selfish. Because of what he wants and what works best for him, she has to adapt. And possibly be unhappy. And possibly be hungry. I'm not saying he shouldn't see her and have time with her, but I don't know how - as her parent - you can just pretend that it's not an issue. He thinks because he is her "father," she should just be fine with him. He doesn't respect the fact that there are just certain things a father cannot do and he certainly doesn't defer to me as her mother in any sense. His last comment to me was not as coherent as this but he was trying to say that I, in no way, exemplify a good mother. This, when he knows 100%, that I am a damn good mother. Honestly, I don't care what he thinks about me. Not as a mother, not as a person. He is not God, he is not my child and therefore his rating of me as a mother is irrelevant to my life. But the fact that he cannot put her first and say, "Listen, I know she can't go more than three hours without nursing so why don't we just keep it at 3:30 until that changes? I don't want her to be hungry or upset" - I will never, ever understand that. I do understand that it's not "fair" and it's not "convenient" or easy, but it's not any of those things for me either. Let's not forget that for 8 solid months, I have been available to breastfeed this baby every two hours (three at the longest) no matter what day it is, what is going on, where we are, etc... It is not always convenient or easy for me either. I certainly would not otherwise choose to spend my Saturday afternoons at his parents' house in a room upstairs on a kitchen chair breastfeeding my daughter. But it's what is best for her so I sacrifice happily. He cannot and has not done the same. It's heartbreaking, frustrating, incomprehensible, and infuriating to me. 

But I really am trying not to dwell on it - I will go crazy. I am trying, trying to picture tomorrow at 4:30 when I get her in my car and I can sing to her and drive her home and then the rest of our weekend can begin. I am trying to visualize nursing her tomorrow evening at home, comforting her, knowing she is full and content. But I'm only human and it's hard. It's very, very hard.

Pray tomorrow goes quickly for my baby girl please.

Love,
Momma and Juliette
XOXO

Drained...But Trying

I am mentally exhausted after today. Court was fine (in the sense that not much happened and we were out of there fairly quickly). The upside is that I didn't have to pay my attorney quite a million dollars for today and I got back to my baby very fast. Downside was that F tried to come over and talk to me as if he hadn't completely disrespected me yesterday by texting me a personal attack about me as a mother. So I calmly told him I was not speaking with him. He had an adult temper tantrum (if there is such a thing) in the middle of the courthouse - shaking his head, huffing and puffing. He even took out a pen, clicked it open angrily and wrote down, I am sure, our exchange. (Although I would bet my life he left out the first part of my response which was, "You attacked me as a mother and so I have nothing to say to you right now.") He then held up the notebook to show his attorney and, for all intents and purposes, tell on me. This is who I am dealing with. A thirty-one year old "man" who says disrespectful things, accepts no responsibility for them, and then has a temper tantrum when he doesn't like the repercussions. It's exhausting. But now we move on. 

We have until our next court date (approximately three weeks) to get an agreement signed. If we do, we don't even have to appear in court again. If we don't, we begin a trial. I am done negotiating with him, however. I am not giving in and so if he doesn't want to agree and sign, then we will go to trial. At least then I can sleep at night and know that I did everything in my power to do what I feel is best for my daughter. So that's that. For today.

He also has her tomorrow morning for two hours. He is supposed to have her tomorrow night for two and a half hours but he needed to change (for a football game, I am sure. Priorities, priorities). I still hate it every single time. And that explains why this post sucks. :( Today sucked and I am dreading those two hours tomorrow. But then I have the rest of the day and all day Friday with my little girl, uninterrupted. I suppose I need to get used to this but the thought of doing so overwhelms me and so I have to take it day by day. And I have to remind myself that there are parents with children who are not healthy and would likely sell their souls to trade spots with me and "only" have to share a perfectly healthy child. I try to think about that when I start losing it. 

Is it tomorrow at 11:30 am yet????

Love,
Momeo and Juliette
XOXO

Breastfeeding, Boogies and Bad News...

First (and I will likely follow this up with a more in-depth post at some point), I love breastfeeding. This has surprised me more, perhaps, than anything else about motherhood. I knew it was best for my baby. I knew I would do it.  But I didn't expect to like it. Love it, really. It sounds silly (especially, I am guessing, to those who have never done it) but I feel very proud of the fact that my daughter has been breastfed every day of her life thus far. Up until 6 months, she was exclusively breastfed - nothing else passed those lovely little lips. At six months, she started on fruits and vegetables and has since expanded into some grains and meats. But she is still breastfed like clockwork and I love it. I feel like I am doing right by her ever time I feed her. I love the bonding time; it's built-in, take-a-break-from-life-and-love-your-daughter. I don't even mind it at 11;15 p.m. right as I was on the brink of falling asleep. Or at 2 a.m. Or 4 a.m. Or 6 a.m. For some inexplicable reason, it never ever bothers me to feed her. So I just wanted to share that. Like I said, I have so much more I could say about it and so maybe another rainy day post will be dedicated solely to "the boob" as we call it around here. We shall see. But for any mothers-to-be, try it. You might fall in love with it as I have.

Secondly, boogies - oh my word, the boogies. My little angel is sicky. It's quite heartbreaking and she's not even that bad. God help me if she ever legitimately gets sick. Since yesterday, she has had rosy cheeks and a red bum. She has also been leaking from every single hole in her face. A lot. And yet another cliche is true: "it's amazing what doesn't bother you as a mother." I will wipe those boogers and those runny eyes and that drool with my hand and then immediately use it to wipe my own face. Or to finish my apple. Because those are my boogers and tears and drool. I made all of that. It's not gross, it's cute. The night before last, one of us had an accident in our bed. I won't say which one out of fear of embarrassing someone, but someone peed a bit too much and the sheets were wet at 2:34 a.m. Awesome. Out of bed we were. Changed baby. Cleaned baby. Threw down a blanket over the new definition of a "wet spot" in bed, stuck a boob in a mouth and back to sleep we went. So obviously the first thing I did yesterday morning was strip the bed, wash and dry the sheets, and re-make the bed. (Although, maybe that's not so obvious if you're still grossed out that all I did at 2:34 a.m. was throw a blanket down on top of it. Survival.) Well, I woke up this morning and it looks like all Juliette did the entire time I was sleeping was blow her nose on as many square inches of our sheets as she could possibly reach. So the washing machine and I reunite. It's quite a lot of work having a baby. (But shhh! I wouldn't trade it for the world!)

Lastly, the bad news. F and I were so close to coming to a visitation agreement over the past few days. We had been going back and forth over email with proposals and counter-proposals and counter-counter-proposals. Then today I explained  - again - that there were some things I am just not going to voluntarily agree to. Ever. He said he wouldn't either and so we were frozen. He then asked me to switch his visitation time this Thursday and a weekend date next month. I told him that I would be happy to do my best to accommodate him with that if he would agree to this. Well, that is all it took to set him off. I received some nasty text messages, one of which attacked me as a mother. (Really? Ugh. When do men grow up? He is 31 years old. I am the mother of his child. A damn good mother, which he knows, and it's the first place he goes when he's stomping his feet and crossing his arms. So disrespectful.) Anyway, I am fairly confident that the same person attacking me as a mother wants to cancel his regular time with his daughter because of a football game. I wish these men were forced to grow up as much as them women are when they become pregnant; their lives don't change. Yet they still want all the benefits, all the "pro"s of becoming a parent. It really frustrates me despite how much I try to blow it off. So - back to court we go tomorrow. It's our last conference (i.e., another opportunity for the judge to chastise us, tell us to grow up, talk it out, and come to an agreement because we don't belong in Family Court) before our set trial date. I am not giving in this time. I'm just not. I have to follow my gut and do what I think is best and if other people around me think that makes me "difficult" or "a bitch," I just cannot care. I am crossing everything that a miracle will occur and someone will grow up a bit tonight as he sleeps and be willing to agree with me tomorrow. If not, well...I am sure you will hear about it here.

Love,
Momeo and Juliette
XOXO

Visitation...

...Am I the only one that hates it every single time? I can't be. Can I? It's 7:50 and she is due home by 8:00. Every minute - especially the last twenty or so - feels like an hour. I know she will be a bit late tonight too because there is a terrible car accident blocking the way to my house. I can't wait to have her safely home with me, where she belongs, giving me kisses and hugs.

I know that, as with everything else in life, I will likely "get used to it" and some moms even tell me I will start to enjoy the time (or at least make the most of it). I want to believe them because they are being honest and they have been down my road, but part of me just can't. I will always hate having to let her go. And so I blog... :)

As things currently stand, Juliette's dad has her two weeknights from 5:30 - 8:00 p.m. I drop her off at his parents' house (I am not comfortable with him taking her where he lives since he has three roommates and cannot control who comes/goes at the house) and he brings her home. He also has her from 9:30 a.m. on Saturdays until 3:30 p.m. (soon to be 4:30). I dread Saturdays. It's just such a long time for me to worry about her. He picks her up in the morning and then I go to her at noon to nurse her. I then nurse her there at 3:30 before I put her in the car. It's all...less than ideal. 

I do not worry, necessarily, about F taking care of her. I believe that he does his absolute best. And besides last night, his parents are constantly with them as well which makes me feel better. At least there are three adults worth of judgment there with her when I cannot be. Yes, she comes home with baby food caked on her face. Last weekend, her pants were on backwards. These things drive me crazy, but I can live with them. 

Here are the thoughts I cannot live with:
(1) Will she wonder where I am and think I've left her?
(2) Will she get scared and want me?
(3) Will she be hungry and want to only nurse?
(4) Will she become anxious and not trust either F or me?
These are the thoughts that keep me up at night and make me sick with worry. I am her mother. I am supposed to protect her and ensure that she feels safe and secure and loved every minute of her life; I hate that my situation robs me of that. 

I sent my latest, bottom-line, proposal to F on Tuesday morning. It is Thursday night and I have heard nothing. We have a court conference scheduled for Wednesday - I am losing hope that it will be our last. I am done negotiating, done going back and forth. Some may say it's stubborn but I cannot and will not compromise what I feel is her best interest - unless and until a judge orders me to do so. Then, at least, I can sleep at night knowing I fought for her with everything I had.

But a small, tiny, optimistic piece of my heart is holding onto the hope that it may not come to that. I hope her father can understand that I love her more than I love anything else in the world and everything I am doing is motivated by that love. My heart fingers are crossed.

But my baby is home now - where she belongs and all is right with the world...

Love,
Momeo and Juliette
XOXO

Our "Best" Day and a Crying Baby

Today is Sunday. Ahhh... it has become my favorite day for so many reasons. Mainly, the obvious ones. But now that I have Juliette to share it with, there are even more reasons. We had a "family fun" day at a winery today. Typically, Sunday is a day that I shop and cook and everyone comes over for dinner. In the summer, we do a lot of bbq/grill/outdoor eating. All winter, I pretty much pretend I am Italian (which I am not - I've traced my family back as far as possible searching for that "1% Italian" part - not there) and make everything and anything with "gravy" that I can. But today was kind of in between day: it's not yet fall but summer has clearly departed. So the winery it was and SUCH a good choice. The weather was perfect and so was the afternoon. 

Well, except for the "crying baby." I heard her long before I saw her. She was doing a desperate cry for a long period of time. Finally, I saw a dad carrying her like a football and walking her down the rows of grapes (I think this was to muffle her cries from everyone else at the vineyard). When he emerged with her fifteen minutes later - STILL CRYING - and still wearing a wool hat in about 75 degree weather - I went over and said hello. I learned the baby was 5 months old and her name was McKayla (a pretty name, but not Juliette). I said to the baby, "I bet you want your momma." Dad informed me that they had separated and today was "his day" with the baby. It was then that my heart broke. This baby was clearly unhappy and uncomfortable and she was literally looking around hoping to see momma any second and she wasn't even there. I asked to hold her and he handed her right over. She stopped crying for a few moments when I was talking to her but then I think she realized that even though I was acknowledging that she was a tiny human and NOT a football, I was still not "mom." I asked if he had a stroller for the baby to put her to sleep and his answer was, "No, she took everything from me." Grrrr. He thought I would feel badly for him, I suppose, but of course I did not in the least bit. Maybe this is clearly biased and judgmental but here were a few of my thoughts:

- Why, why, why are you taking a 5 month old child away from her mother for so long? He clearly was not there for only an hour or so.
- If you had your sister's engagement party at a winery, don't you think you'd rather the baby be with mom so you can attend the party and not walk halfway down a mile-long row of grapes to muffle your babies cries instead?
- If you HAD thought it was a good idea, why are you NOW realizing that it was NOT and calling mom to come get the baby?
 - And if mom "took everything" from you but you still want to have time with your baby, why don't YOU go get a stroller? or anything else the baby may need?

Grrr. (Did I already growl?) It sort of ruined my mood for the next hour or so. Now, granted, I don't know their story, but I pictured a new mom at home somewhere, worried sick, picturing her baby exactly the way she was in reality, but hoping against hope that she was really fine. Well she wasn't. And it was so unfair to that poor little baby. She was crying every single time I saw her for the next three hours or so. Heartbreaking. 

I try to be a fair, unbiased person. I truly try to see both sides of situations the best that I can; I believe that is how you learn. But I don't understand why a man cannot understand that a baby needs its mother. Period. Yes, the baby should be able to see dad and spend time with dad. Of course. But not at the baby's expense. I think that is so clear. So simple. So right. How is there another side? It upsets me greatly - I'm getting upset again now as I picture that little girl. So I need to move on.

MY little girl is now upstairs sleeping soundly in my bed (we co-sleep which I am sure I will talk about more in the future). She adored today because she adores being outdoors. Don't know where she came from - I hate nature. But as long as she is outside, she needs no entertainment - she will stare at trees, play with grass, look into the sky, all for hours at a time. She is precious (if I do say so myself). 

Tomorrow we have a doctor's appointment where she will get more shots. I hate it. Hate it. She's a tough cookie but she still cries and it kills me every time. Then (drum roll please....) I am meeting F for a drink to "talk about things." We have our next court date on the 25th and he suggested that we speak before then. I am hoping it is because he is willing to stop fighting with me over every little thing (15 minutes here, an hour there overnights, etc...) Hoping. But I am scared because I don't want my hopes up. So we shall see what happens. Until then, I am going to watch one show on my overloaded DVR, go snuggle with my baby girl, and get some serious work done tomorrow! Can I do it? I think I can, I think I can...

A happy Sunday to all,
Momeo and Juliette
XOXO

Getting Hospital-Ready

Today is a great day to have a baby!! Too bad it’s my brother-in-law’s sister having hers and I am STILL home, working and pregnant! L She is having her third via C-section and is hoping for a girl. I am hoping for a contraction – even a teeny-tiny one! (Remind me, by the way, when the time comes, that I was hoping for those…) I have a doctor’s appointment later on tonight and am hoping to hear that I am making some progress. But I’m not holding my breath.

Things with work have been settled as far as me going out for awhile – that is a weight off of my shoulders. My boss has been wonderfully understandable and flexible and seems he will continue to be when I have the baby. For that, I am one grateful girl.

Things with F are even looking up. We had lunch on Saturday and although it was brief (I am not so comfortable being out these days) it was very enjoyable and we were able to discuss details about the Christening we will be having with my niece Allie. I am so happy to be able to do a combined Christening…actually happy isn’t really the word. I thought that F was going to have a conflict at one point and it wouldn’t be possible and that made me cry (understanding that is not that difficult to do these days). It means the world to me and I am already so excited! The baptism will be at my church and we are having the party at a local restaurant because the manager there was so gracious and cooperative (and, plus, the food is fantastic)!

Physical status: a wreck. Nothing fits me anymore. Every day finding a shirt becomes a treasure hunt. My belly is stretched to the max and feels that way – so tight and hard and sometimes itchy. When I walk, it feels like the baby is going to fall out (I wish!) and when I sit or lay for too long, my back and hips hurt. Every morning’s shower is a one hour routine because I need to get hospital-ready clean. This means shaving, scrubbing, and moisturizing from my feet to my chin. The thought of being basically naked and fully exposed under those damned lights they lower from the ceiling horrifies me. Parts that I haven’t seen in months are going to be out there for all the world to see. Shoot me. Each night when I get changed back into the only sweats that fit me, I think “Well all of that was a waste today – the only human I saw was my mother.” But I know – I know – that the one day I don’t do my hospital-ready clean routine, I will go into labor. So an hour a day it is. Speaking of which…have to go blow dry my hair juuuuuust in case…

8 days to go!!!

(Yawn)

Exhausted. I am physically and emotionally exhausted. I’m back to not sleeping well – not falling asleep easily and then not remaining asleep. And F came over last night (last week we did not meet up). I know it’s terrible but I can’t even rehash it all. He left and I was sitting here so…baffled. Confused. I just don’t understand him. I wish I did. We are two totally different people on two totally different pages (of different books). We attempted to cover the following topics: possible boy name, my relationship with his mother, visitation, our relationship (which has been non-existent for months and which always and still includes our break-up), health insurance and (drum roll please…..) finances.

The last one was probably the one that exhausted me. I feel it’s the first thing I have “asked” for, if you will, and it was not received well. (Although visitation was the second thing he managed to bring up). Not only did F think the baby “won’t cost anything” for at least the first two months, but he genuinely seemed shocked when I told him this pregnancy has not been free! I explained to him, although this has all been brought up in past conversations (numerous times), my deductible, my co-payments, my expenses for food, clothing, vitamins and all of the other incidentals that come along with carrying a baby for 40 weeks. (Didn't even bother to mention my decrease in salary because I am able to work fewer hours). He said it never even crossed his mind and he felt “like shit” about that. However, that was not followed up with an offer for…anything. Sigh.

I then explained that my idyllic plan six months ago had changed and I no longer feel it will be appropriate to re-evaluate child support every six months. I don’t want it to be an ongoing source of tension – I think it should be a matter of business that we deal with now and it just is. We agree on an amount and every two weeks, that is what comes in. Period. Needless to say, without even discussing a number, F did not agree. He thinks we need to wait and see what our actual expenses are, then compare what I spent to what he spent and meet somewhere in the middle. He does not agree with, nor even want to acknowledge the existence of, New York state laws regarding child support. Because I said I would like to stay out of court, F interpreted that to mean we are re-inventing the wheel and we cannot even look to what the state would hold him to. I disagree. I was, and am, willing to compromise on the amount but he feels that certain things have no bearing on my raising a baby. “Your mortgage doesn’t change just because of the baby. And yes, your utilities will go up, but so will mine.” (Although in essence, that is not true, since he is keeping the baby at his parents’ house when he has him/her (her).) I said, “Well you don’t just get to choose how it works and we’ve established that you are clearly not aware of all of the financial implications of a baby.” I don’t think he was very happy with me but I can’t let that bother me. I explained that I can’t deny all visitation and make up my own rules simply because I think the state laws are “stupid.” Nor can he do the same with child support. I asked him to go home, go through his finances, and come back to me with a number that we can work with. We shall see what that brings. Again, two pages. Two books. He left and I was just…exhausted.

So I promise to get into more detail about some of the other topics, but forgive me, I just don’t have it in me right now. Plus, this little gremlin (or gremlette) is demanding that I eat something. Five minutes ago. Okay Baby….food is a comin’! Tonight is my first weekly sonogram and NST (non-stress test) so I will let you know how that goes (so excited to get another peek into Baby’s home)!!!

49 days to go!!!

Crank Pot!

I am cranky today. I know I shouldn’t be – I had a few days off of work, a very nice Thanksgiving with the extended family and time with my new niece. But I can’t help it – yesterday (usually one of my favorite days because it was a Sunday) was a waste for me. I got up and ready with the best of intentions and a To-Do list half a mile long, but then got a gas pain at around noon. It did not go away until 7:30 pm!!!!! Awful. Torture. I was in quite a bit of pain and spent the day doing anything anyone suggested to get rid of it: Tums, Gas-X (yes, I am allowed to take both while pregnant), moving around, lying still, drinking milk, eating, not eating – I tried it. I accomplished nothing. Grrr. Now today is Monday. Back to normalcy. Boo. (And people wonder why I can’t wait to have this baby on the outside!!??)

Also, I met with F two nights ago at my house to “talk.” That likely didn’t help my gas pains. I had a knot in my stomach leading up to his visit because two days prior to that, we had exchanged words on the phone. Very rarely do we both get upset, but we did that day and I try to avoid getting stressed and upset as much as possible these days. We are just on two very different pages right now and that leads to difficulty. He told me he is having trouble accepting that we are no longer together and might not ever be (certainly won’t be by the time Baby arrives). That colors his judgment of everything involving me, leading to his unhappiness, anger and frustration. I told him, quite honestly, that I did not know what I could do about that and that I have no clue how to make this situation better while he is still stuck in that place. He decided he may need some time away from me (not that we spend much time together) to fully move on. I acknowledged that that choice is his prerogative but that it would also come with consequences; in other words, if I don’t see him or hear from him for 6 weeks and then go into labor, I don’t want him upset when he’s not the one I am looking to for comfort and help. That seemed to puzzle him. I thought we had made some headway towards the end of the conversation but as he was walking out, he told me how he was out at a bar the night before, playing QuickDraw and hit for $550. Sigh. This after me mentioning how much this baby has already changed my life, especially financially! He doesn’t seem to get it yet.

So I need a new focus today. Or at least Starbucks ;) That always helps. Maybe I will treat myself to a Peppermint Mocha on my lunch break – always helps any mood I am in. (Yes, it’s caffeinated. Don’t judge. It’s just one grande.) And tonight I will try to make Christmas decorations with the million Mason jars I have left over from my baby shower. I hear there are some great ideas in Pinterest. I’ll share any great ones I may find. Starbucks and Pinterest should do the trick – cross your fingers :)

65 days to go!!!

Kisses, Snuggles, and Worries

What an Allie-filled weekend I have had – kisses, snuggles, photo shoots, diapers, and more kisses. I can’t get enough of her! Back to work this morning – very hard to do when I know she is only about 5 minutes away. I already am staring at the clock counting down until I can see her tonight. Makes me very excited…

So I promised an update on the F front. Nothing positive, unfortunately. This past week felt like a bit of a whirlwind for me and it’s been quite emotional at times. My sister having the baby made me think. A lot. Mostly, about what it will be like for me. It made me sad that the nights that she and Jay were the only ones left at the hospital might be very different for me. They probably couldn’t wait until everyone left and it was only them and the baby. I am wondering if I will feel the same. Can I share that much joy with someone whom I am not in a serious relationship with?

Our communication has completely broken down. Right before the hurricane, I started to become a bit disappointed and frustrated that F was not doing anything. He says a lot about what he wants and what he’s ready for, but I wasn’t seeing anything. I started to feel like, unless I initiated something (conversations, get-togethers, dinners with his parents), nothing would happen. I was correct. I stopped and it all stopped. He didn’t speak to me after the birthing class (which I thought went well) until he showed up at the end of my surprise shower. Since then, not a word. He sent a beautiful (and delicious) Edible Arrangements gift to my sister in the hospital yet didn’t even acknowledge my niece to me – not a text, phone call, Facebook message, nothing. That was a point well made (although the reason behind the point is very unclear to me). I have been telling others and myself that it wasn’t bothering me – that this was his choice and I was not here to always fix everything – but it was bothering me. So yesterday morning, I called him in the hopes of having a talk about whatever it is that is going on with him. He didn’t pick up and then didn’t call me back for more than 8 hours later. Even then, he called my house and didn’t even try my cell. That spoke volumes as well. So, alas, today I will try again even though part of me feels it shouldn’t have to be me always trying to make things right. But I don’t know what else to do.

I look at baby Allie and when I tell you, my heart swells with how much I love her already. I don’t want my own experience with my own baby to be hindered, in the least, by a stressful situation between F and I. But I’m just afraid because it takes two and I am not getting the cooperation from him. (It drives me crazy, also, when something doesn’t make sense to me. And this just makes no sense. None.) I will continue to try, though. I don’t know what else to do.

In the meantime, my living room still looks like Babies R us and Buy Buy Baby threw up. I have not put away one item from my baby shower! Hopefully this week!  And tomorrow I will tell you about the breastfeeding class I attended in case any of you are looking for one – it was wonderful!

72 days to go!!!

Birthing Class

This morning in the shower I started to wonder how my mornings will change in just a few short months. Likely no more lingering in bed to check Facebook and BabyBump and cnn.com on my iPhone before making the bed, ironing clothes, checking email and then taking a long, hot shower. I probably won’t be able to make a nice tea or hot chocolate before I get settled down at my laptop for the next seven to ten hours. I doubt my lotioning/make-up/jewelry/hair routine will hold up. All of which is fine with me but the unknown does frighten me a bit.

I will have to continue working after the baby is here, of course, and yes, I am incredibly lucky that it will be from home and that I can mostly do it on my own time. However, my bank account is used to me finding anywhere from 50 – 60 hours a week to work and I am afraid they are going to disappear! I haven’t yet had an explicit “what’s going to happen with work” conversation with my boss – I suppose that should be done rather soon. I need to prepare a good, lawyerly argument for whatever it is I will be asking for. (Problem is, those don’t work so well when you are dealing with other lawyers…)

On another note, F and I went to a birthing class this Saturday! To let you know what a chicken I am, I really wanted to back out on Friday night. Like, really. I was so anxious about it. Reason? I am not the typical person. And I’m slightly crazy. I admit this. The typical person likes to know everything about what they are getting into, especially medically. I, on the other hand, would rather be kept in the dark. I usually tell the doctor, “please don’t explain – just do what you need to do and get out.” Mind you, I have been in the labor and delivery room with my sister twice. I have watched her push out two children. I have three younger siblings and innumerable younger cousins. I have grown up holding, changing, feeding babies. I intellectually knew that there was probably nothing that was going to be taught at the class that I didn’t already know or haven’t already seen with my own eyes. But I was still stressed about going. I did not want to hear something that I wouldn’t ever be able to UN-hear. (I also have this thing with feeling ‘trapped’ somewhere. But that’s a whole separate entry one day. And yes, I realize for those of you analyzing me, that this may be related to my relationship issues with F. Yes. I know. Back off. ) The only reason I didn’t back out was because of F – I knew he wanted to go because, as far as child-exposure, he is the complete opposite of me: has never held a newborn or changed a diaper, etc…

It actually was a good class. The instructor was terrific – lots of humor, moved things right along – right up my alley (Carolyn Bittner, a L&D nurse at St. Charles Hospital). The breathing techniques were probably the only really new thing for me and I think they will be beneficial. At least for the first two contractions. I can say I tried. But I think everything was very eye-opening for F. When we were practicing breathing, the men were to be timing us and coaching us, we were to be breathing. So we begin and I feel him breathing on the top of my hair (he towers over me). I whisper, “I am supposed to be breathing. Not you.” He says, “I’m helping you.” I thought, "Oh dear God, no you are not helping me. You are breathing on my hair.” And I wasn’t even in pain. God help him. When we were practicing the ever-famous “hee-hee-hee-who” breaths, F was breathing in with every “hee” instead of out. I cannot tell you how this drove me nuts. I was afraid he was going to hyperventilate right there. I mean, who doesn’t know that a “hee” is a breath out?! For the rest of the class, I couldn’t get the picture of him doing that out of my mind and it was making my skin crawl. You know when something small like that drives you crazy? (Please say yes).

Other than that (and him raising his hand to ask about when he can bring me the champagne I have demanded – who asks that?!! I kicked him) it was a good experience.

Now the mean part: I felt so much better about myself when I left there! Honestly. There were 5 other women in the group. Four of them have let themselves go to hell (assuming they were semi-presentable before pregnancy). I mean pink-sweatpants-red-shirt, dirty flip-flops, no-brushes-used, put-on-sixty-pounds hell. I couldn’t believe it. They looked like they fell into the hamper that morning and whatever stuck, stuck. The one other girl looked normal, thankfully. But one of the gone-to-hell girls is due in twenty-somewhat days and she only found out she was pregnant 7 weeks ago! HOW in God’s name does that happen? She was 6 months along, allegedly, before she knew she was having a baby. You can’t make this stuff up. She was traveling in Hawaii, she said, as if that explained it. When I walked out of the class, I thought, “you’re not doing too bad, Elizabeth.” Then, yesterday, the 17 year old at my butcher hit on me as usual. I could have hugged him. I am almost 7 months pregnant, was wind-blown as all hell, and he still hit on me. I don’t care that he’s 17. That made my damn day.

86 days to go!!!

Made it 'Til November

November!! I never thought I would reach this month…three more solid months to go. That sounds like a year to me…maybe this is why I woke up with my head spinning. First of all, I remember feeling ‘pretty’ in my dream last night – ahh, what an unfamiliar feeling! I think it was because I wasn’t pregnant. I was trying on outfits and they all looked so cute! Ugh – maybe one day…

F came over last night to use the shower and soak up some electricity. The house he rents (with three friends) has not yet been restored – neither has his parents’. I told him he was more than welcome to come and he took me up on it. It was good to see him, but as always, it got my head spinning. I think – well I pretty much know – the problem lies with me. I have such high expectations for people. For F. I want so much and when they don’t live up to that, I am disappointed. I’m disappointed that the first time he came over, before or after the storm of the century, was to shower. Not to make sure my house was secure or to bring in gallons of water or to check on me…things like that. Those actions would speak volumes to me. He says he wants a lot of things – he says he wants to get married, live together, have a family. But his actions have not changed. And yes, I know I stopped all of that. I know I said I wasn’t ready and didn’t want it – but if he still does, you would think he would show it. I want to feel that I would be taken care of and I do not feel that way. I feel I would have to shoulder a lot of the worrying, a lot of the responsibility. And I am willing to do that, but I want to feel like I don’t have to do that. Does that make sense? Example: my aunt ordered a glider for me for the baby’s nursery. It’s sitting in my living room in a huge box. He never mentioned it – never said, “oh the glider came?” or “do you want me to put that together?”. I just wish he had. So I go back into my defensive stance of I-will-take-care-of-it-myself (which, unfortunately, at this time, usually means I find someone else to do it for me). But I will have my dad put together the glider. I called my friend and asked him to send landscaping guys to clean my yard. I will do it. I don’t need him. It would just be nice if I could depend on him.

A lot of thoughts, I know. And to top it off, I woke up – again – wondering if I should ask the baby’s gender at my OB appointment on Tuesday. If it’s a girl, I wouldn’t feel the surprise was ruined. I would be thrilled. If it’s a boy – I don’t know if it’s better for me to know now and deal with it or just wait til it’s in the moment and I may be just fine with it. I truly don’t know. If I decided to ask, that means they would have to have the gender in my chart, which I am not sure they do. And then I would have to keep it to myself for the next 85 days. I’m still tossing this one around. [My mom told me not to find out. She thinks it will leave me time for disappointment whereas, if I wait until “the” moment, there will be no room for disappointment and I will love my child fully and with zero upset. I might have to trust her on this one. I hope she’s right! Thoughts???]

90 days to go!!!

Hurricane Sandy!

Baby’s first hurricane is officially in progress – I am staring out my front window (which faces the beach) as I type this. Thankfully, I am elevated over bluffs and the boardwalk otherwise it would be scarier than it sounds. The winds are crazy but I still have power (pleasepleaseplease stay on, power!!) and I am happy to be trapped inside with just Baby and me! I wish there was something baby-related I could do, but I haven’t had a baby shower yet so there are no clothes to wash and fold, nothing to put together and nothing to organize. Boo. I know when the time comes to do all of that, I probably won’t want to, but today I would love to. Oh irony.

Instead, I am working. As much and as quickly as possible in case I lose power. I work for a mid-size law firm but work from home full time as the office is in NYC, a good two-hour commute for me. I have been with them for over a year now and it’s good work. I get the perk of staying home, which gives me flexibility, but I still work about 50 hours a week (closer to 60 pre-pregnancy, closer to 35 in the first trimester!). I will likely take a few solid weeks off after I have the baby but then try to work my way back up to as many hours as possible, as quickly as possible. That’s the plan anyway but you know what they say about plans…

So I told you about the conversation with my sister’s friend who cried over my baby gender issues. It apparently bothered me enough that it is all I think about when I go to bed at night and all I dream about when I finally fall asleep. I woke up wondering if maybe I should ask the doctor the gender at my next appointment. I still wouldn’t want to tell anyone because I want that climax, that surprise, the day of.  But what if I do need some adjustment time? Honestly, my biggest fear is that he says, “It’s a boy” and then I don’t even have the hope left. Not even the chance. If it were a girl, I would be happy to know early of course. But I’m not sure if knowing earlier that it’s a boy would help me or not. Sigh. Someone tell me what to do.

No texts or calls from F today. He must still be pissed with my inadequate responses from yesterday. This partially upsets me (so don’t think I am cold-hearted and unemotional) but it also exhausts me. I feel like there’s always something and I am at the point in my life where I just want things to be easy around me. That’s all.

Wish Baby and I luck with Hurricane Sandy – pray our power stays on and I don’t eat enough for another ten-pound weight gain at my next appointment.

93 days to go!!!

Sunday Family Dinner

Sunday. Family Dinner Day. A new tradition I began when I got laid off from my last teaching job. I was unemployed all summer (not a big deal to a teacher) and promised that if I didn’t have a teaching job lined up by August, I would learn to cook. This doesn’t sound that impressive, but I couldn’t even boil water at that point. Literally. Cereal was challenging. And…no job = master chef. I began cooking Italian dinners every Sunday for our family. Not because we’re Italian (we’re not) but because “sauce” was one of the first things my mom taught me to make and it went with everything! I have since expanded and we occasionally drift from the Italian Sunday dinner, but almost every single Sunday since then, I shop and cook, my mother hosts, and about 15-25 people sit down for a meal at around 4 p.m. Love it. I look forward to it every week. (I used to really enjoy the wine part of it. Now, I create some sort of sherbet punch or sparkly something-or-other to make myself feel better. How many more days left?!)

Today, Family Dinner Day has to be combined with Hurricane Preparedness Day. We are expecting a rather disturbing storm on Long Island beginning tonight, I believe. (Oh yes, I am from Long Island. New York. Don't be jealous). My poor father is running around tying everything down at his house and at mine. (Lucky him – your pregnant, single daughter moves in next door to you). The electric company left a voicemail yesterday telling me to be prepared for 5 – 7 days of outages. I hope they are kidding. Surely they need to restore pregnant women’s DVRs first, right?! I hate when the power goes out. It depresses me. But my parents have a generator hooked up to their electric circuit and so it will likely be like Grand Central over there. Fine by me and Juliette. (Or, of course, my unnamed yet loved son).

Quick update on the F front: we haven’t spoken in a few days. My panties are all in a knot, I suppose, but I am not sure yet if I have any ground to stand on or if it’s just hormones, so I’m letting things be for a bit. I’ll update you during the week (I can type in a power outage, thankfully!) He texted me this morning asking if I was “set” for the storm and when I said “I suppose so” he seemed agitated. He wanted reassurance that I was “in good hands” so that he didn’t “have to worry about me and the baby.” (But apparently he didn't want to actually come here and see for himself. Or help with anything.) This is definitely a conversation that he will refer back to in our next disagreement. Sigh. I’m keeping that in mind as I text my responses. You cannot win an argument with this attorney.

Off to buy 7 pizza doughs at the pizzeria. Already bought the ingredients for a variety of pizzas today – football games and hurricanes call for a less formal dinner, apparently. Fine by me! 

94 days to go!!!