You want the truth about guilt? You can't handle the truth!
Sorry. I just woke up and I've only had 2 cups of coffee.
Let me tell you about guilt. Here's the two things in my life I feel guilty about. 1) My relationship with my Mother. 2) Being a Mother.
The relationship with my Mother is rocky at best. It's always been that way. Growing up in a very Bible-centered family, she loved to quote the Fifth Commandment: Honor thy Father and thy Mother. Any time I was arguing with her, misbehaving, or being a pain in the ass, she'd quote that line. It's gotten worse over the last few years, chiefly because her and my Father are divorcing. She likes to insult my Father to me, and I refuse to hear it. And the teeny tiny little fact that I'm closer to him than her. But, since Pooker Butt is just like me, (God has a sense of humor, so it seems), she's a great source of information. She's also bought a ton of stuff for her and I. When I was pregnant, she bought me lots of maternity clothes. When Pook made her appearance, she bought her a ton of stuff. But that doesn't negate the emotional turmoil she causes. Sometimes I feel like she's trying to buy me off. I feel guilty for taking her stuff, I feel like a gold digger. But on the other hand, its stuff we need. And I do love her. Deeply. So while I try to maintain that delicate balance between actually having a relationship with her, but not letting her destroy my sanity, guilt enters in. It's complicated.
Mommy Guilt...Again, we have a rocky relationship. Somewhere between making sure your child has plenty of play time with you and being too tired to even think, Mommy Guilt comes in. The feeling of giving your best, and the feeling that your best isn't good enough. I look and I see ads for playgroups, baby development workshops/toys/programming and I think to myself "Wouldn't it be nice if we could do that?" but then I think of the bills we need to pay this week and the idea gets nixed. Then I feel Mommy Guilt. Then I think to myself, "You know, Heidi, they didn't have this when your parents were growing up, or when you and Heat were growing up, and y'all turned out just fine." Then I remember how screwed up I am, and that little voice inside my head shuts up. Mommy Guilt: don't leave home without it!
Why, you ask?
Because this is my little slice of Hades. And frankly, I like the way Heidi's Hell Hole sounded. Besides, there's always something making my life hell.
Psychobitch ex wife? Check!
Psychotic, alcohalic mother? Check!
Job I can't stand? Check!
Roommate I love & hate (mostly hate?) Check!
Infant who's already testing her boundaries? Check!
When I was thinking about what to name this, I thought of a scene from the Birdcage with Robin Williams. The evening is going to shit and he puts his arm around his son and says, "So this is hell?" and it just stuck.
Hell is when you have a screaming, teething baby on your hip, 2 kids running full steam ahead in the house, 1 dog who's barking, 1 who just peed in the hallway, your mother on the phone about how easy it was for her, and the exwife on the way to pick up the kids who haven't eaten dinner yet.
Yes, I've been there.
Sprites Kepper does a Spin Cycle every week. She chooses a topic, and you put your own spin on it. (Hence the name Spin Cycle.) This week it is a family newsletter. Here's mine:
Dear Family,
This year has been a roller coaster. In April, we moved into a shit-hole house in a shit-hole neighborhood. I guess it was a God-send. I mean, we exchanged our deposits for work on this house. Imagine 8 months pregnant me trying to paint and scrub windows. But still, this house is a shit hole. This places costs a small fortune to heat. There is no storage for the ten tons of crap we have. And, oh yeah...The block across from us is owned by the Spokane Psychiatric Assocation. Translation: the block across the street is used as a half way house for the mentally insane. Nothing quite like being woke up at three am because "NIXON IS GOING TO KILL ME!!!" is being screamed at the top of some ladies lungs. The dive bar across the other street adds a nice touch of culture, too.
In April I also spent a week in the hospital with a ginormous blood clot in my lungs. My OB decided to put me on a heavy duty blood thinner that hurt like a mother to be injected into me. He also decided that with my epilepsy and clots, he wanted to control every single aspect of my labor and delivery. They were going to induce me and control everything. I was disappointed because dammit, I wanted to rush in the room, clutching my basketball belly and say "We need to go. It's time." But that was not to be. So, after two weeks of going stir crazy I had a massive seizure. That moved up my due date by two weeks. After 17 grueling hours, 2 epidurals (one of which failed), many doses of Pitocin, a crochet hook in my hoo-ha to break my water, nine (I shit thee not) seizures, and one emergency C-Section later, Pooker was born at 2025 hours. All 7.6 ounces, 20.25 inches of her. She was born exactly one month early, at 36 weeks. She is the biggest source of joy, love, happiness, sleeplessness, and frustration in my life.
I also sold my trusty old Mercedes in July. I didn't want to, since it was my last vestige of non-Mama hood. But alas...Since Bryan is almost seven feet tall...He couldn't fit into it really well to being with...Add in one baby car seat, one childs booster seat, and one long-legged little girl...It's worse than a sardine can. So we sold it.
In the summer, Bubs played football...Sorta. He didn't really care for the sport...Oh, who am I kidding? He couldn't give a rats ass about the sport. He pretty much just stood there on the field. He was more excited when snack time rolled around than having a ball tossed around. But he had a decent season, and his team did okay.
We're not doing too bad. Sure, we live paycheck to paycheck and we have to budget down to the freaking penny...But at least we still have our jobs, which I know is definetly something I thank God for. Our house is warm, even though is costs a small fortune to heat. Our cable is on so I can get my daily fix of What Not To Wear on the DVR, and the internet is on so I can get my daily Mommy blogs fix.
So, beloved family...That is my year on a nutshell. Aside from the move and the new baby, nothing too exciting. I need to let y'all go now, Stacey and Clinton and I have an appointment.
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