I Love You and Other Lies Boys Tell

"Took me out to wine, dine, sixty-nine me, but didn't hear a damn word I said. I see right through you." Alanis Morrisette

I'm going to be 38 in two weeks.  I've dated, been married, divorced, and now dating again.  When I first got divorced, it was hard to picture myself totally by myself.  Yet I found myself alone with two children and a dog. (and also several mice, but thats a previous blog altogether) I enjoy dating, I really do. Sometimes I read my past blogs and I get on my own nerves.  But things tend to happen that are pretty  bloggable.  And yes I am the constant in that equation (as a certain Jerky McJerkerson pointed out). But well sometimes I think, I choose wrong just for the excitement and a story to tell afterward.  . .

Check this out

I met a boy.  He is an artist (shut up, I know) We talked online.  One day he asked to come over.  I said that it was a bad idea.  He said it would be fine. He would come over, we would watch a movie and we would cuddle and then he would go home before the boys woke up.  I said sure, because you don't find many who understands that they have to be gone before the kiddos wake up. I mean the therapy costs alone...

So he came over and did what he said. It was nice. Just company. So every weekend almost after that, he would come over we'd "watch a movie" and then he would go home.  Sometimes I would go over to his place.  He made me waffles in the morning.  His apartment was like a vacation.  Movies, cuddling, breakfast, silence.  So after a couple of months of this, I got curious. That is a bad sign. that means I'm getting attached. I want to know about him, meet his mom and what not.  *sigh* the beginning of the end.  At any rate,  I noticed that he always came over super late.  It started to bother me.  It bothered me to the point that I said that I was tired of being secret girl he saw late at night.  It was cool for a while, but a person with half a heart wants more than just that.  He said, "ok".  I was pissed. I guess I expected him to put up a fight, to say he'd do better. no such luck.  Then I asked him to send me the beautiful pictures he took of me.  And he told me he deleted them.  I was furious.  Those were the best photos I'd ever taken. So raw and beautiful..gone. And so I do what I do what I always do.  I threw a text tantrum.  Oh the curses I used...

But the next day he said, "are you too mad to play scrabble?" And we played online scrabble just like the old days.  I was impressed. No one ever survived a text tantrum except the Nigerian, and everyone knows he's the love of my life (shut up). 

But I think, that he was a little late on the complete damage I did with my text tantrum, that may or may not have gotten back to facebook, allegedly.  Now its the silent treatment which only rivals plucking my leg hair one by one to the level of torture that is....gosh.  I guess thats over now...

Meanwhile back at the boy bunny ranch:

So I was talking to my other friend (Fred) and complaining about how boys want to have secret late night sex relationships and that was all.  He said,  "I know what you mean.  I am coming to your birthday party. I can't wait to see you."  I thought that was the sweetest thing ever.  Maybe I had mis-judged him.  Then he said, "I know what will make you feel better."  And then he sent me a picture of his penis.  Sigh . . .

So there is another boy, Aloyoisus St. Dexter.  We went to college together.  I met him on the streets one day, and we went to lunch a day later.  Super sweet.  We talked and ate and drank. And then he went back to Jamaica.  He is cool and a west indian (I SAID SHUT UP). But he is in Jamaica.  We talk and laugh on the phone and over skype, but who is to know what he would be like if we were in each other's space all the time.  Murphys Law is a bitch I tellya.

Anyways, my birthday is coming up.  I have an awesome dress, and about to order some fuck me pumps.  However, none of that will be going down.  But it is cool that they want it to.  I just wish someone would like to talk and play board games too.  Maybe a little drunk bop it (funnest game ever). The Nigerian is coming....here's hoping that nothing happens....

Justice is four years old today

Justice's birthday is today. He is four years old. He is different than his brother. The story of how he came to be is also very different. I tried to get pregnant for two years straight. I got pregnant so quickly with DJ; I was shcoked that I didn't get pregnant as quickly. Every month I got my period, I would cry and cry and cry. It was like my dearest love was leaving me stranded day after day month after month. I was so impatient for him to come. I felt so alone and so empty.

We had just moved back to Bowie. Damion put in these really strong smelling plug-in air freshners. The smell was sickeningly sweet. So much so I actually got sick. I was sick for a few days. So much so I took a day off from my new job. On a whim, I took a pregnancy test. Finally after two years and three months I was pregnant. The ironic part of it is I had just gone to the ob-gyn to get more birth control pills because I was tired of having cramps and being disappointed every month. I also sensed that my marriage was not going to be resucitated by having another child. Well when you least expect it . . .

I had an awful fight with Damion when I was 8 months pregnant. He broke things. I had to run from him. I cried so hard capillaries burst in my face. It looked like I was covered in freckles . . .a black Peppermint Patty. More than ever I became impatient with waiting for Justice. I so wanted to meet him. Also he was getting awfully heavy and I looked like I was pregnant in my ass more than anything else . . .Anyway, I began to dilate early. I was having productive contractions but it was too early. The doctor told me to stay off my feet to slow things down. The problem was I had just started a new job and really couldn't afford to go on complete bed rest. So I went to work but stayed seated. It was a blast rolling down the hallway in my awesome rolling chair.

My doctor finally broke my water at 38 weeks. The birth was pretty straight forward. A few pushes and out he came. a little over 7 pounds. Justice and I met a little after midnight. He started breastfeeding right away and did so most of the night...greedy bugger.

Justice has been a different challenge than DJ was. While DJ was a healthy baby, Justice had frequent colds, fevers and ear infections. He lost hearing for a period of time before he got the tubes put in which delayed his speech a bit. Justice looks like me but has a temper like his father. So strongwilled. DJ is a mama's boy, but Justice is a fiercely independent kid who gravitates towards his father. I feel like I just got to understand him over the past year. He has developed quite the personality. He loves his brother so much. He repeats everything he says. Once DJ got punished for something and was crying. Then Justice began crying. I said, "Hey what's wrong. Why are YOU crying?" Without missing a beat he said, "because DJ is my very best friend."

Justice loves bread, ravioli, chicken nuggets, and pizza. He loves Mario Bros. He plays Luigi and loves to wear denim overalls. Justice is enamored with his mommy. He loves to play in my dreds and make them cover his face. Justice is naughty. He currently loves to say "poo poo" and "pee pee" and thinks its hilarious. Justice makes up knock-knock jokes. They are not funny. He has a rich imagination and prefers playing with his brother or by himself happily. Justice loves music. He loves Regina Carter's Pavane. He loves jazz. He makes up nonsense words to wordless saxophone compositions. He said that sometimes the music sounds so sad. He also loves soca and likes to shake his "bumpa" to the music. If you say whine down low, he will reply, "whine down so". When Justice speaks he has an accent I can't quite place...

Justice is my baby. My independent, naughty, musical, genius baby. He is brilliant. He knows al his letters and his numbers. But it is more important to me that he knows that his brother is his very best friend, that music sometimes sounds sad, and fun is still fun if there is only one. Justice is my strong, loud complement to the older, pacifist funny man. I waited for Justice for 2 years. He is four years old today.