Paranoia

par·a·noi·a

noun /ˌparəˈnoiə/ 

1. A mental condition characterized by delusions of persecution, unwarranted jealousy, or exaggerated self-importance, typically elaborated into an organized system. It may be an aspect of chronic personality disorder, of drug abuse, or of a serious condition such as schizophrenia in which the person loses touch with reality

2. Suspicion and mistrust of people or their actions without evidence or justification.

The whole process of adopting has made me very very paranoid. I have written a lot lately, but am afraid to post. I’m afraid of anything that might hinder this process. I am afraid of fucking up somehow & it not going through.

I am afraid that they will find me unfit, or that the powers that be will decide i can’t keep him.

It has been a bit over a year since he arrived. Not sure exactly when it happened but recently I realized i refer to him as “my kid” or “my son”.

About a month ago he started calling me “Mama”.

The transformation is complete. lol

In a few months the adoption will go through & my paranoia will be because of something else…. pretty sure it will still be related to him….

I hate people most of the time.

That pretty much sums up my feelings today.

Figured I’d share.

Being a parent if fucking hard… so what?

This is the thing… I love my kid, but this is the hardest thing I have ever done.  I’m not complaining, it’s just stating a fact.  There is a reason I had decided not to have kids.  BECAUSE IT LOOKED FUCKING BRUTALLY HARD.

I’m having a hard time relating to other parents.  I became a parent out of the blue.  I had no time to conceptualize my role as mother &  I’ve been  making  it up as I go along…

I feel like a lot of my interaction with other parents is not really a conversation…  more like a competition.  They are not telling me about their kid… they are telling me how much better their kid is….  How they are such great parents…better than me.  They try actively to instruct me of my shortcomings…  I realized some time ago that is not advice, but as a  reassurance that they doing a good job….you know; how they are doing better than me.

I realize that the fact that I have managed this without any preparation is threatening to some of the parents around us… After all, they had 9 months to prepare.  I can tell, some of them are struggling… we are all struggling.  I think it makes them question themselves;  How can someone with no preparation handle this as well as them?

They look at me like I’m delusional naive …  Because I think it should be OK to serve beer at a 2 year olds birthday party. ( I mean, really, WTF!  I’m not going to get shitfaced…but 5 hours surrounded by a bunch of toddlers!  Its fucking brutal!).  Because I don’t want to spend my time talking about kids, or strollers, or toys….  That I refuse to act like my life is over!  That I am vocal about needing time off, apart from my other half and my child. That I take the time off & talk about how great it is to get away.

I can see it their face, their expressions…They think I’m too vocal about how hard this is. That being honest about how hard this is wrong.

There are people who think we might not make the best parents. I know that some our friends have stated this out loud (I have some loyal ears out in the world).

I am a good parent.  I love my kid & do the best to teach him right from wrong. I have no unrealistic expectations.  He is an individual & I will do my best to guide him, but there are a lot of things that are just out of our control. With that in mind I made the choice to do this.

I made this choice knowing that being a parent is really fucking hard.  That parenting this child would come with its own unique difficulties.

I made this choice because I love him… & we were his best chance at a future….

I do this because I want to do it…

But it’s still fucking hard… & there is nothing wrong with acknowledging  so.

The Accidental Parent…

It has been a very long time since I have posted anything, & in the  last year there has been  a clusterfuck of activity in my world.

I have written  few things with the intent of publishing… but I ran out of time.

This excerpt explains why:

This is the story of how I became an accidental parent.

On July 29th, sometime around 2pm, a 22 moth old boy got dropped off at my house…

“A two-year old is kind of like having a blender, but you don’t have a top for It.” -Jerry Seinfeld-

There are many things I thought I would do in life… be an artist, go to India, skydive,…

I managed to make it to 30 in one piece.  I lived my life in an extended state of adolescence.  I went to art school, participating in all the stereotypical events that go along with that.  I somehow managed to avoid any real responsibility, except for a cat, an absurd amount of $ in student loans debt & a lovely boyfriend.

There really wasn’t much more. I spent days worrying about pretty much everything I could worry about, spending lots of time & $ on shrinks & drinking. I held awful jobs, working for assholes. I suffered from an eternal need for “something more” and I always thought I was depressed…. I’m pretty sure it was boredom, but that for another post…

I liked my life, sometimes not so much, but I was comfortable with the way it was.  It suited me.  I could come & go as I pleased.  Travel a bit….

As time passed, and I got older, all my friends started to get married and engaged….

It was then when it changed.  Slowly, one by one it started.  Before I knew it, all of them were having ( or trying to have) babies…

I have to explain something; I’m an only child, only person my age in my family.  I was the 1st cousin born & no one else came along until I was 10.  After that I was busy being an angry teenager with purple hair and I’m pretty sure no one wanted me to take care of his or her kids. I was pissy , I cursed a lot…  They probably thought I would eat their children. Think Salander…but with lots of crying.

The point is, every time I found myself facing another friend of mine with “baby fever”, I thought to myself “Thank God that’s not me.”  I bragged about how I had never changed a diaper & how kids just meant your life was over….  I dreaded every time one of my girlfriends got knocked up…because, well, they kind of sucked after that.  Pregnant ladies can’t drink, they are tired all the time, they vomit (I hate vomit) & they constantly want to talk about their stupid baby.  I don’t like babies.

I had moments of doubt…(It had been written about in this blog).  I started to wonder if maybe parenthood was something that I wanted to do.  I thought about it long and hard.  At some point last summer, as I drank my way through New york City with my other half &  bunch of friends… it hit me.  I did not.

Why would I mess with my freedom?  My relationship with Ant was amazing. It was just us, doing whatever it was we wanted to do.  Maybe we would end up in New Orleans, or Washington DC.  Maybe not… But the possibilities!

We came back from New York on a Tuesday…Thursday we got the call.

My boyfriends foster-sister was not doing well, a social worker called. Either we took the kid or he was going into a shelter until his grandmother could get here from Illinois.

Of course we would take him… its only for a few days.  He got dropped off around 2pm. He was afraid, screaming nonstop.  Had no idea where he was or what the hell was going on.  We didn’t know at the time but he was sick.  He gotten MRSA & it was getting worse behind his knee.  He was with strangers, in a strange place.  None of his stuff…no blanky…no binky…no toys & worst of all…no mom.

An hour later social worker calls again…

The little boy was under state custody…he cannot leave the state.

I’m not sure at what point it hit me…  I think in took a week before I realized what was going on.  I called my mother crying, because I was completely overwhelmed, terrified utterly clueless.

In a few hours I had become a foster parent to the most wonderful little boy… In a few hours everything I had decided I did not want, had happened.

On July 29th, sometime around 2pm, a 22 moth old boy got dropped off at my house… & my life will never be the same.

Eating Cereal in Bed…

….Puffins to be exact.  My other half is crashing at a friends house in New Hampshire.  He called me drunkenly about an hour ago to inform me that he was in no state to be driving.  Most people would probably be mad at this.  I on the other hand am really glad he stayed & crashed in someones couch.  I don’t handle people drinking & driving very well.  In fact, the fight that would have ensued if he had driven back home hammered would have been monumental!  So good job, other half!  Very happy you were responsible!

So here I am…watching Letterman in bed with my kitten & a giant box of cereal.  I’m enjoying my bed all to myself….that is one of those things you don’t realize you will miss.  A big bed all to yourself.  My other half & I share a full size bed, our room is tiny & it was give to us by a friend upon our arrival to Boston a year ago.  We don’t really fit.  Add a greedy cat into the equation and it usually leads to me not sleeping well….

The thing about all of it, is that it is only good for 1 night.  Any longer and I miss him & the cat is still fucking greedy, still trying to steal my side of the bed even thought the rest of the bed is empty.

But tonight I enjoy it all to myself… Good Night World.

Proust

Proust Questionnaire From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

I love questionnaires, this is the Proust Questionnaire… There are a few more questions that go along with it…. I will get to those some other day.

• What is your current state of mind?
  • Anxious as hell… I feel like the world is changing… me along for the ride trapped in the trunk.
• What is your idea of perfect happiness?
  • Seriously doubt such a thing actually exist. That’s like believing in Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny … It just isn’t real.
• What or who is the greatest love of my life?
  • All of them feel like that at the moment in which you are with them… but so far the current one wins…
• What is the quality you like most in a man?
  • Standing up for what you believe in & following trough with it.
• What is the quality you most like in a woman?
  • Fierceness, opinions & loyalty to other women. At the end of the day, its all of us ladies, against a world run by a bunch of dudes…
• Which living person do you most admire?
  • My Mother.
• What is your greatest extravagance?
  • Haircuts at Section 8, there have been worse offenses in my past, but currently I am too broke to indulge in any of them.
• When & where were you happiest?
  • It is way too hard to pick one moment… one time… i just don’t really know how to answer this question.
• On what occasion do you lie?
  • Whenever necessary.
• What is your greatest fear?
  • My mothers death & missing out on life.
• What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
  • My lack of accomplishments. I have achieved nothing of actual worth. well, that’s not true…I make a mean margarita when I apply myself.
• What is a trait you deplore in others?
  • Lack to accept ideas different that your own. People who refuse to accept change.
• If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
  • I’d be naturally skinny & fit.
• Which historical figure do you identify with?
  • Silvia Plath & Virginia Wolf.
• What is your greatest regret?
  • Running away from my family.
• What do you consider your greatest accomplishment?
  • Realizing how lucky i am to have the family that i do… Realizing that I love them with all my heart…Becoming aware that they love me, without judging me or expecting me to change.

Another Day… another drink to consume.

I like drinking.  Some people have suggested I might consume more alcohol than is necessary…

Those people suck. They are just jealous that they don’t come from the country that invented piña coladas…

I truly enjoy a glass of wine or 2 ( ok, usually its way more than 2), a greyhound…and last week I discovered the most fantastic vodka drink.  It had some weird shee-shee South End bar name like the Mo Swan I think it should be renamed THE AWESOME! After some research I found out it is in fact called a French Horn.  I am posting the recipe here for future reference:

French Horn ( or THE AWESOME!)

• 1 oz vodka
• 1/2 oz lemon juice
• 3/4 oz Chambord raspberry liqueur

Stir and strain into a cordial glass.

While researching this very important issue I discovered a fabulous blog filled with Vodka Recipes.  I will be visiting that page quite often…

I had my first day of work yesterday, it didn’t totally suck.  My boss seems like a nice lady & my commute is a lengthy 35 seconds.

In reality these last 2 days have been OK.  I felt what might be considered, kinda good.  Spring has arrived & nothing makes me peppier that a nice sunny day, after enduring a long and disgusting winter.

Now, after along day of designing unsuccessful posters & my weekly graphic design class, I am siting in bed with my boy & my kitten.  He snores away next to me while I watch Letterman ( FUCK LENO! TEAM COCO ALL THE WAY!) and I type this on my little laptop.

My boy & I have been together for 5 years.  It is easy when annoyed, to only focus on the negative things about him, when in reality I cannot imagine a better partner.  While we can’t discuss God or philosophy  without it turning into a huge dilemma, in most aspect of life & existence we tend to agree.  For the last 4.8 years We have been on the same page about nearly everything (except for that god thing & Plato…He kind of sucks.  Plato, not my boyfriend).

My desire to get married just came out of nowhere… & he is very confused about the whole deal.

When we met neither of us believed in Marriage.  We had long discussions about how it is the remnants of a purchase contract… that It was just a way to keep women down….  All of the sudden, out of nowhere, no real warning, I just woke up one day about a month ago & decided I wanted to get married. Hell, I find it very confusing as well!  To make matters even more complicated; I actually found a baby CUTE!

It’s hard to really express how much I dislike children with just text. No one ever really wanted me to babysit…ever.  I am very proud of the fact that I will make it to 30 without ever having changed a diaper.  I worked as a teacher for a while & it was one of the most horrible experiences of my life.  I was incredibly glad to leave that job & I have never EVER missed any of the kids I taught.

Imagine my surprise when someone actually handed me their kid (most people know better than to let me handle their offspring) & I thought to myself ” If I ever get knocked up I might want to keep it, he’s kinda cute….” yep… (that one is lingering in the horizon.  I can see it slowly creeping….)

So afeter thinking long & hard here is what I think happened ( thanks for all the help shrink lady!);  all of these feelings (all the marriage & baby stuff) are because of him.  It’s like that line from When Harry Met Sally (yep, I am indeed quoting a romantic comedy.  I am really THAT pathetic):

” I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

At this moment I feel like he’s the person I want to be with for the rest of my life… I don’t want to get married… I want to marry HIM.  I don’t want to have a kid… if it happens, I want to have HIS kid…  I don’t want to do any of this stuff… unless its with HIM…

So technically….. this is all HIS fault.

I’ll make sure to tell him that, the next time this topic comes up…

No one I know has any idea I have a blog, that I sit in front of my computer & rant about all the things that annoy me.  It’s nice to have a secret space where I  get to say (more like write) whatever I want.  I get to be completely selfish & one-sided, & bitch about things, like my boyfriend not marrying me…

Or men who use the word fantastique…

I could sit here & complain about a million more things… or bitch about the  Opera Singers that live downstairs…. but maybe some other day… I feel good today…

….Tonight, sitting in bed with my boy & my cat, I am happy…