A Train of Mindful Feedings in February

On a slow gliding torpedo toward the Hudson, big city rumble – traveling alone.  Riding a bit shaky, bumping off steel frames, strangers wear their grins.

Snow blanketing fields outside my window – lay peacefully untouched in the rarely seen plains of New York’s rural mass – impoverished back allies of forgotten sheds.  A town’s mutated gene with a broken window, three rundown cars, some cluttered lawn mowers all meant for fixing – covered in angelic, glittering white.

The sun, a blazing ball of gold on Friday morning –bounces through skinny, sleeping trees and if I close my eyes, creates anxiety -A flashing red and white dance party –eyes widen relief – the tracks kicking up white dust below.

Friday morning.  Our lucky American’s last laboring frenzy.  Counting down the hours before the happiest 5-9 – “another night running late” – slamming cinnamon poison under mint rubber – you feel no shame – you feel your feet swell – feel your legs warm – carrying up into your face flushing hot with reward.

On a train, with myself – some funky beats to block out talk – how nice not to talk – and  watch – watch the sun rave with birch and pine until a massive willow who stands like wisdom – turns our fire briefly to night in a glimpse – and is gone.

The coldest month our north has seen in quite some time – not made for people’s hands to peddle or ponder – a femme fatal murderous winter –choking lungs into frozen ice boxes that hold no breath – she’s tallied tall numbers – our taker – and yet this train is full of souls in route to another frostbitten building holding heat – proving yet again, life demands no stopping.

But how the trees dance – how the snow swings in bouts of wind that blow like cotton softly – how the sun creates hope brighter than the white that blinds me – how the untouched plains remind me – beyond my stinging phalanges and nose – what our world is without my being.

Pregnancy, The First Time Around

I found out I was pregnant the first time around in March of 2012.  I started posting publicly about it in April 2012 on Facebook.  Here is my little journal of updates I’ve selected for your viewing pleasure.  I’ll have a whole new mindset this time around but, these are still fun for viewing.

April 18th 2012 – Maybe I come off as a total asshole… That’s fine so long as I don’t come off as the people I make fun of.

April 28th 2012 – is a weird kind of fat.

April 30th 2012 – You know your life has hit a milestone when the cereal in your cupboard is all fiber and no marshmallow…

May 13th 2012 – Pregnant women get to celebrate Mother’s Day too! My child got me a brand new cup size! Thanks, you little weirdo.

May 16th 2012 – To any women complaining about PMS, I will trade you any day… you selfish shitheads.

May 18th 2012 – Look out weekends cause… I’m once again sober. I feel like Friday only shows up to laugh at me, “HAHA. You did this to yourself.” … I did.

June 6th 2012 – If I’m not texting you back, it’s not that I’m neglecting my social life… I just have fake nails.

June 7th 2012 – I just want a fully developed bump already so when I run into men that I dated-ish… I clearly look pregnant and they don’t carry the expression, “you really let yourself go.” No. I did not. I met a man better than you and made a happy little accident. Now go cry about the day we’ll never be married.

June 13th 2012 – I think it’s about time to start writing my memior, “What to Expect When You Weren’t Expecting”

July 12th 2012 – “You’re a dirty, dirty liar and I never want to hear from you again!!!” …Daily arguments with my scale.

July 23rd 2012 – When a baby kicks, it’s awesome… But when a food baby kicks…

July 26th 2012 – They say cravings are what make you a chub-a-lub-of-love, but this is [picture of Tim Hortons Yogurt Cup] all i want so WHHHYY are they made so effing small?! ‘hi can i order ten yogurts because you simply don’t provide pregnant girl needs?’ … Jerks

July 29th 2012 – Participating in sunset bays bikini contest today! Should be a win…

July 31st 2012 – Do NOT agitate me! I will kill your self esteem with hormonal words of angst… You idiot.

August 7th 2012 – Thank you Kourtney Kardashian for ruining all birth plans. I think i’m just going to avoid labor and get into wizardry to make my child magically appear.

August 12th 2012 – While it hasn’t been said that baby boy has made his mom prettier (according to myth) it HAS been said that my boobs look great… Thanks

August 13th 2012 – My boss asks today, “Has anyone heard of this 50 Shades of Grey?” I reply, “Yes.” She yells, “You’re too young for that!!” …And babies are made from making snow angels.

August 16th 2012 – I don’t really see myself as an adult per say… just a bigger kid. Like, I didn’t give up PollyPocket, ‘Spice World’ and EasyBake… I traded them! for things like a Keurig, HBO, and a tart burner…

August 18th, 2012 – Some guy threw up outside my apartment in drunken stupidity at five in the morning. I couldn’t tell whether I was disgusted… Or jealous.

August 29th 2012 – Well if anyone and their shit day needs a reason to feel better about themselves… I can’t see my feet anymore.

September 5th 2012 – Don’t touch my belly, it’s contagious. Seriously, don’t touch me… Especially you, random woman in the body wash aisle at target. You wouldn’t approach a mountain lion with loving hand rubs, so why a hormonal, round-bellied bitch?

September 19th, 2012 – What do you mean I can’t dress up like a slut on Halloween? #PregnantGirlProblems

October 1st 2012 – I’m ready for bed… Janek has the hiccups.

October 7th 2012 – “Maybe if you just push really hard, you can start labor.” Attempts. “Nope, but if you’ll excuse me, I think I just peed my pants.”

October 19th 2012 – Meeting someone might be difficult when you pick up on the scent of your ex boyfriend’s cologne… How does one explain, “I’m sorry we can’t be friends because you smell like a complete waste of time.”

October 31, 2012 – If my boy is born today he will have what’s dubbed a Halloweenie!

November 2, 2012 – When your boyfriend mumbles polish slurs like “woman” under his breath as if you haven’t been together long enough to know what he’s saying… Yeah that’s okay. I’ve got diapers full of poop coming at you real soon! Xoxo

November 3, 2012 – Alright so my due date has officially passed, still no baby… it’s time to come clean. I’ve had a nine month addiction to cake.

November 11th 2012 (My sons birthday) – Could someone bring me a beer? Still waiting. – At Sister’s Hospital

November 18th 2012 – There is something so sentimental about a father being proud of his son’s gas. “That a boy” indeed.

November 27th 2012 – walks with a limp and it’s not from swagger, more like labor. Finally getting a massage today!

November 29th 2012 – I’m a big girl now. I drink my wine from a box.

December 6th 2012 – If anyone wants to buy Janek a Christmas gift, the kid who has everything, he literally just told me, “Pay for my mom’s chiropractor so they can fix what I did to her.”

December 12th 2102 – By Wednesday it’s time to get out of the house. I know this when I feel the urge to start posting about my child’s sleep schedule.

December 20th 2012 – After six weeks at home, I’ll be returning to work, and I’ve got to say… I’m really going to miss Kathie and Hoda. I feel like we’ve bonded! Especially on Thursdays when we’re all sharing a glass of wine at 9AM.

December 24th 2012 – Amazing job, man, son, family, life. I think I know what they mean when the religious say ‘blessed’. Or as I say, “tequila gave me such a beautiful, unorganized, chaotic, wonderful blur that turned into today… And today is great.”

December 26th 2012 – Janek is a really happy baby… So long as you’re standing, walking, bouncing, swinging, holding up right in the slightly slanted pose he feels most comfortable in. Make sure you’re not squeezing too hard, rubbing too soft, hold his head only ‘here’ and don’t blink… Or breathe… See! Smiles!

December 27th 2012 – 4 hours of sleep, spit up on my shirt and perfume showered. I am beautiful.

December 30, 2012 – Victoria Secret sweatsuit, UGGS and a Pink Northface. I’m dressed like I’m going to war in a Total Tan

December 31, 2012 – I resolute to remember every little pink pill in 2013!

Flabby Arms Fly

I’d of loved myself so much sooner to see the artistic works of Medieval, Ancient rulers – an artists replication of curve before MTV. Real Queens, not a photoshopped hack job of Beyonce.

Today, the shit has hit the fan on bodily expectations for women.  Instagram is populated with obvious cropped waist-lines and butt implants and gym junkies and anti aging fruit from the center of the earth…. I’m not amused, and I do not find it admirable.

You can’t truly walk a life in vain, worried about the possibility of veins, can you?

I find it novel, a woman with lines, a life’s story behind each indentation.  A tired mom with a belly blossomed, carrying her weight full term.  A laboring bartender works long into the morning with eyes that sing a sad song – drives her own car home to a grade A daughter – can afford no make up to put on.  A matriarch of ten grows a garden – her hands stiff, scarred and arthritic – makes some heaven out of soup bowls -and keeps a fat family happily fed.

Real women who fight their days without fear – wave their flabby arms like wings – never letting their laugh lines miss the chance to crease – now that’s admirable.

Stay At Home Mom

Mandarin Oranges break into beads that thread through the carpet I walk on.  An old grape tomato, the cat’s new toy splatters – on the hall wall I wander down, for more milk – that will spit itself onto the suede couch I sit my peanut butter jelly ass on.  Water in the sink, on the floor, hugs the rug and runs into the side of the tub, the toilet I’m in need of.  A toy car beneath the sheets of my bed – I yearn for an active dream – drives me to a days blacked out end.  Awakened by whine for more games, more play – is the radio station that cries for my dancing.  A coffee cup already cold, spoiled creamer – gets the dishes done, the garbage outdoors, and the breakfast made from a toaster.  No arpon with flowers or heels that click, just my hair in a knot, some old stained socks decorated in crumbs and butter.  Can’t wait to have kids, be a stay at home mom, and go mad walking through a circular door of unclean paths in need of maiding.