Moving in and Moving on

well, I'm officially in my new apartment (so official, I even got my first piece of mail). It's been a ridiculously surreal past few weeks. The first three days were spent moving everything in here, and of course juggling what little time I have with wee one. Every moment with him is so precious now. And with Rick as emotional as he is, I want to try and give him SOME stability. It's been difficult, and I can tell it's taking it's toll on my child. He's prone to throwing fits more, and his eating has been erratic at best. He's also been fighting colds this last month (yup, two in a row, fucking Seattle pissy weather).
I know it's been a while since I've updated in here, but luckily those who would/could be concerned with my wellbeing have been kept as informed as I can. Honestly, I wasn't sure how to approach this issue in the sense of my blog. I know Rick will plan to use everything he can against me, reading far too much into whatever I post wherever I post. He's already been pretty much cyber-stalking my webhaunts like otakubooty and myspace, so I have stopped posting on there as much as I used to. It upsets me, I don't like feeling afraid of him. I don't like feeling like I should have to hide any fraction of my life from anyone, simply because he takes every single sentence the wrong way.
And then, ther's the very nature of this blog. I suppose in time, when the other half calms down a bit and I settle into what I consider my surreal new life, I will pick up the pen (errr, keyboard) again and allow the MotherHoodlum existence to be my ponderings of life as a single mother. It's only been a month, but I've already felt the massive differences. But most of them are positive....
I moved into my apartment and put everything exactly where I wanted it to go, displaying my goofiness proudly. I will make this place my home, and do so with the utmost pride, for this space is all MINE.
My wonderfully supportive friends have come climbing out of the woodwork to help. They say being a single parent is ridiculously hard and trying, but these amazing people have made it surprisingly manageable.
I went to Blockbuster, and rented movies I wanted to see, and knew Rick never would've let me rent.
I went to Safeway and bought the food I love to eat, and missed terribly (yes, toaster struedels have been purchased and devoured with aplomb).
I watch the news again. I watch my CSI:NY sans interruption.
I have made plans for actual vacations. Rick hated to travel, and I feel that was always a big point of contention between us. Now I will see the places I want to go, and not feel guilty about going there. I will go to the east coast this year, and Georgia is next on the list.
The negative points really are only about not having my son with me fulltime.
I miss waking to his little voice every single day. When he is here, he wakes insanely early because he's used to getting up at 6 to come here on daddy days, and therefor his sleep schedule is all wonky.
On the nights I don't have him, I miss going into his room and watching him sleep.
I dyed two dozen easter eggs while he was asleep one night, because I didn't have time to do it during the day with him.
I've had to try and scratch money together to buy him new clothing. He was outgrowing most of his stuff prior to us splitting up, and now we're both having to replenish two wardrobes.
having to juggle him between two households has been a trying effort, especially when one parent doesn't seem to care how their irresponsibility affects the other parent's life.
I realize how fucked I am without a car. I plan on getting that corrected in the next few months.

I suppose the most important thing of all this now is my problems are now completely mine (and therefor, completely under MY control). My triumphs are all mine, too, and are ten times more meaningful. When I passed my MIT test at work I wanted to cry. This effort was MINE. But it meant so much. It meant securing a path towards a future for me and my son. I will provide the life I promised to him the day he was born. I want him to be proud of his mother. I want to show him he can do anything, because I can.
This year, Mother's Day is going to mean something completely new.
I am a Single Mother.
I will thrive because I have no other choice.
I will flourish because I can.
I am damn good at what I do.
Roar.

Absence & worry

Well, I haven't updated in a while, and I apologize to those of you who use this blog to 'keep tabs' on mama. Unfortunately, my world just took a huge turn onto it's ear. For those of you who wish to continue viewing mamahood as a pillar of strangth and angst, it's best you not read the rest of this entry.
Rick and I have decided to split. Actually, I decided to split, he's just forced to have to cope with that. It's been a rough week, as I finally found a place after a chaotic search, and will be moving in this week hopefully. It's a small place, just a little two bedroom. But I guess it will suffice for a mama and her boy doing their best to start things over and make the best of a really rotten world.
The stress and pain have been exhausting. I've barely eaten over this last week, and have thrown up so many times the porcelain god might be thinking this is a bit of overkill. His pain is oppressive, and my own I can hardly find a moment to face because I don't want him nor the wee one to see. This is something I have to do, but every step of it feels like I am walking across glass.
The worst, of all, is the concept of myself as a mother. I myself came from a 'broken home'. I don't know if what I hold within me was ever resentment towards my parents for that, but I can't help wondering if my son will hate me for this down the road. Being a single parent is no easy feat. Part of me feels that I've already gone through it, as I've shouldered our son's care completely since day one. But now, knowing what I will put him through is devastating. I only wanted to be a good mother to my son. I wanted to provide everything for him. So that beautiful smile that greets me everyday wouldn't know what it ever meant to go without.
I turned on a saved episode of the Wiggles on the Tivo box this evening and had the jarring realization that I wouldn't be able to afford cable in the new place. I've been desperately searching the internet for cheap DVDs so that I can always watch him dance and sing along to those grating songs in my new much smaller living room. If I could work three jobs while he slept so that he'd never know I was struggling to pay for a birthday party I would. I suppose every single parent faces that.
It is also crushing to know I am causing rick pain. Despite everything he's put me through, and done (or not done), he's still a human being, and the father of my child. If I could go through life and never cause a soul anguish I would be a happy woman, and seeing his anger and hurt is driving me to my own breaking point. He'll follow me from room to room, lashing out with it, and I keep it inside, and then quietly go throw up because the knots in my stomach finally wanted to unravel.
And then I pack my things and iron my clothing for work the next day. Work...ah, work. At least I have an outlet. A feeling of accomplishment that at the end of the day, I earned a paycheck, and that's one checkmark off of the now huge list of things on mama's mind.
So I worry.
I worry that I won't be able to afford rent.
I worry that I won't be able to afford the babysitter.
I worry that to ensure my son has every ridiculous goody Gerber makes, I will eat Top Ramen for the rest of my natural life (which will, of course, be drastically shortened by the amount of sodium in that shit).
I worry that I could be selfish enough to think that.
I worry that Anthony will see me cry.
I worry that Anthony won't see me cry, and think I am a cold and heartless bitch for leaving his father.
I worry that the stress of all this is making me lose weight, and I'll be ugly.
I worry that the stress of this will keep me from being a damn good salesperson, and I won't be able to pay rent and my bills, and that I'll go from top ramen to food stamps.
I worry that if I have another rupture, no one will be there to help me.
I worry that I will be too tired to play with my son.
I worry that I won't be strong enough, and my son will see me weak.

I worry that being alone means so much to me, I won't want to be with another person.

I worry that rick will give up, and go back to Kentucky and leave me to be the mother and the father.
I worry that I won't be a good mother or a good father.
I worry that I am not a good person.
I worry a lot. And then I throw up, and I go to bed. I have one more week in this house, and although I will be taking the computer, I won't know if I can afford internet access until I move. Here's hoping I can do a few things right.