The patron behind me at the restaraunt lastnight farted...

Friday, July 03, 2009

and my daughter turned 10 two days ago and which one of those events do you think i texted said daughter?

The fart.

MY oldest turned 10 on Wednesday and I think I might have just made it without a tear. I did cry from the person farting but only cause I was silently laughing so hard I cried. And yet I forgot to text her happy birthday wednesday mornig.

I have wracked my brain for the last 3 days on wanting to say something about this occasion. I mean my oldest child is 10 now. Double digits. Wow. But after last year's post I'm just not sure I could ever top that. It's still one of my most treasured writings.

Maybe it was such a hard birthday because it was the first one divorced. And as it turns out, the last one. Maybe it was hard because the school year was for shit. Because my sweetheart was strugging so hard to find her new self right there with me.

The further I fell, the further down she went right next to me. I do believe our lives started to turn around right about June, though, and we worked our way back up together. And we moved forward and she grew so much this year.

You know that little feeling of throw up you get in your mouth when you know someone is about to gush about shit you don't care about? Yeah. IT's in your mouth now isn't it?

So Miss Arielle Renee is 10 now. And as I've told my darling husband who's headstrong child doesn't know how to take Arielle (who the fuck does?) that Arielle wasn't meant to be a child. She was one of those babies born smoking a cigar and cursing. No really. Toys were wasted on her but for years we've bought them out of obligation. SHe'd want a toy you saw on television only to *LOOK* at it. Her bunk beds at her dads are still as I left them, piled high with SHIT. I think she wedges herself in her bed similar to how a mouse can go through a hole the size of a pencil.

She has went to the theater to see the Lord of the Rings (do the math on how old she must have been), Transformers, War of the worlds, almost all of the Star wars. Who cares abot barbie shit? She wants the action dude.

Arielle has asked for a cell phone since she was 6. Keep dreamin kid. I didn't get one till she turned 8 so she was waiting. But at 10, she now has one because seriously, she needs one with all her running around she does, and what else do you get the kid who has everything and plays with nothing? She also got a drawing set to foster her love of drawing, and a recycling paper kit becase she is big on saving the planet and shit. And her dad and step mom are taking her clothes shopping.

She came into my work on her birthday for the first time since I've been there. She didn't say much but I could tell she liked being there and seeing the people I work for. I talk about them at home, and now she has a visual. I'm trying to raise all my children up with a respect for the human race and compassion but unless you see it, it's hard to know what your doofy mom means.

she rolls her eyes when she thinks I'm not looking. She thinks her parents are heroes. She's still young and dumb enough to think we have the answers. BUt witht hat eye rolling thing, I give that 9 more months till she thinks we are complete idiots.

She is almost in middle school and she is smaller than her 7 year old sisters. Most people look at her and think she's 7ish. And treat her as so. And shes about 50 stuck in that body. Her school teacher this year still amazes me. She inspired my daughter to learn, to read, to live and explore her world. And the light in Arielle's eye is worth about a million bucks. She went from making Ds and low Cs in 3rd grade to straight As and low Bs in 4th.She says very little about the divorce these days. In fact she complains about very little.

She is getting right to that maturity level where I can level with her, and it works better than a spanking or timeout. Her sisters get pissed but when they think they can vacuum, do dishes, do laundry WITH the fabric softener, instead of shredding our house like a tornado, well, then I'll treat them with that same respect.

I love that my sweetheart prefers nature walks, animals, water, good books, steak and potatoes. I love that she is growing into a young lady. She spends more time on her hair than I do. And one day I will look at my child, and not see just my daughter but my sister in life. But right now I see my wonderfully perfectly imperfect sweetheart, I see my daughter with the maturity and wisdom of a young woman, the innocence of a child, and an individual who will one day go off to college and eat the fucking world to pieces. She not only will grab life by the balls, she will eat life. (not the balls fuckstick) She will not fail because it isn't in her bones.

And she's mine forever.

(LAST YEARS POST)
Monday, June 30, 2008
so what the crappin crap are you lookin at?


just a sappy sentimental momma here, who's baby is turning 9 tomorrow. that's right, my firstborn is going to be 9. OMG. what happened to the time?

it's hard to believe where the last 9 years went, in particular the last one. i say she is my baby, because she is. always. i think her birthday means more to me than mothers day, because it's THE day i became a mother. and it was a pretty profound moment in a life full of mundane.

9 years ago today i was packing my bags for the hospital visit. all the crap that what to expect book said i'd need (and did NOT thankyouverymuch) they didn't tell me to pack towels to clean up the mess of my heart spilling out all over for the world to see.

the book said i'd have hemroids (wrong again thanks for that scare) they didn't tell me i'd weep at the sight of my newborn baby. they didn't tell me that i'd go through hell and fire to see her and that those 5 long hours we were seperated at her birth would be the longest of my entire life.

they didn't tell me about love at first sight. the only instance of that emotion i believe in.
they told me i'd be sore. they didn't once speak of the possibility of being sliced and diced. and being my first time in the hospital and first time to need stitches, just how much excrutiating pain i'd go through, and it was so wonderful i did it again 2 more times.

they didn't tell me that scar across my belly and nether region would forever serve as my badge of honor.

they didn't tell me that every move she made would be magic, or that my then husband and i would actually have fights over who got to hold her.

i knew every parent thought their child was the cutest ever and was expecting my kid to be as ugly as a stick just cause i suck at lying and that would be my ultimate test. but i wasn't expecting her to be so pretty that even her doctor begged to hold her and threatened to keep her an extra day just so he could look at *my child*. so what if Dr. B says that to every first time mom. I believed him then and I still believe him. She really is that pretty. I'm not lying either. She stinks like farts alot and I will not lie to her about her morning breath, but she is beautiful.
My mom told me I'd love my child more than I loved myself, and I didn't believe her. But when I held my newborn daughter for the first time, it was then that I truly discovered love. And every year, on July 1st, I celebrate not only her birthday but my discovering real love, pure love, love without consequence or conditions. I celebrate that day that I became more than I ever knew I could be, and found something I never knew I was missing.

I found a piece of my heart and it is forever raw and exposed for my children. They are my life. My blood. And in this chaotic life I have, they are my only constant. They love me BACK without consequence or conditions as well. I never knew what it felt like to be loved so wholeheartedly until they entered my life.

I'd have had a dozen just like my sweetheart if I could have, and if you know, I could withstand the fart smells because they fart. Alot. And they poop. And they sleep with fingers up my nose, knees in my back, hair in my face.

When I cry they wipe my tears and tell me life is good and we have eachother. They remind me daily why I'm alive and why my life is important. They tell me I made no mistakes and that they will learn to live with the facts of our life. Sometimes they are pissed that we don't own a Wii, but they live with it.

So tomorrow, I celebrate my life forever changing. I remember very distinctly going to a friends house on our way to the hospital on that morning. We had all the excitement of parents to be. Not realizing how much pain I was about to experience. No words in the world could have prepared me for that. Our friends asked if we wanted to borrow their video camera and we shrugged and said no thanks. It wasn't that big of a deal to get my hoo ha on video forever was it? We'd have pictures of *the kid* to look at after she was all cleaned up. Our friends looked at eachother as if to say "they have no clue..." and we did not.

We had no idea as we hopped into our little blue cavalier that day (that I still to this day drive) with our perfect little carseat, perfectly packed bags, ready to go get our baby and just be perfect.

Bringing her home was as much as an adventure because I was certain that the car ride would kill her. Babies didn't survive car rides did they? Plus, everyone said bundle my baby up. It was 110 degrees F that day. WTF was I supposed to do? tgake her home in just a onesie?!?! What kind of mother was I?It was the 4th of July when we took her home, and we were there about 3 hours when we decided to show her her new crib (that she never EVER slept in). We put her down and I took a photo. That was the precise moment the depression set in. I loved this person so much it hurt. I remember holding my pudgy belly, and just weeping. Now she was out, free, and I was responsible for her. Responsible for another person. I don't think people who aren't parents can understand that feeling. You think you do, but you don't. I didn't. Of couse I was just 22 years old, and not all that bright at the time.

It took me many months, dare I say years, to learn to cope with that kind of love. That hurt kind of love. That flip out when your child busts her lip open love and her dad actually calls in sick to work because she is actually BLEEDING love. That can't stand to hurt her feelings in any sort of way love.

Fortunately, I've learned how to deal with it, and regularly torture her now at regular intervals. I've learned that love sometimes means letting go. She had to spread her wings and as hard as it was to let her enter a real school with real peanuts in it, I did it. I was anxiety ridden every single day and it'll only be worse when she enters public school, I did it because she needed it. She had to stop living in that plastic bubble.

She is different in many ways. More unique than any child I know. She is a tough cookie and is hard to like sometimes. But she takes it all in stride. She takes life as it comes, and never once have I heard her complain that she cannot go to dairy queen, or have ice cream, or regular birthday cakes. It doesn't bother her that her friends can eat with reckless abandon and not die. It doesn't because she was born this way. She was born special, and I think God gave me my challenge on the first try, just to break me in.

So happy early birthday Arielle Renee. Our life isn't perfect but it's ours, and we enjoy the little moments and for that I'm glad. I'm glad that you have 2 parents who love you dearly and you go to bed at night safe with that knowledge. Your heart was broken when your dad and I split, and you'll carry those scars forever, but I'm so glad that you know every day that we are both still there equally there for you, and better off apart. You understand that life takes turns, and people aren't always happy, and happiness is what matters. You are about to start a new life with a new *mom* and now you have 3 parents who love you dearly.


You know what, despite the stinky morning breath and farting in the car with the windows up, YOU ARE LOVED.