'Cause Mary J's always got it right...

"No time for moping around, are you kidding?
And no time for negative vibes, cause I’m winning
It’s been a long week, I put in my hardest
Gonna live my life, feels so good to get it right

So I like what I see when I’m looking at me
When I’m walking past the mirror
No stress through the night, at a time in my life
Ain’t worried about if you feel it
Got my head on straight, I got my mind right
I aint gonna let you kill it
You see I wouldn’t change my life, my life’s just…..

Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine,"


Let's just say that for now (and hopefully for a long time lol) I've got nothing to complain about. To be thankful for-there's plenty and while it may be well past Thanksgiving, when I thank God, here's my list:

1) A beautiful, healthy baby boy
2) A pain in the ass boyfriend who I wouldn't trade for the world
3) A family going through growing pains (always) that never fails to make me smile somehow
4) Friends who've made it a mission to stay in my life even when our lives don't cross paths as easy as they did in college
5) A new job that pays me what I deserve and makes me proud to be a social worker
6) and dare I say, a stunningly gorgeous WOMAN that stares back at me every time I pass a mirror whispering the secret that she always knew I'd be happy and get all the good I deserve--I love that WOMAN.

When it's almost time to deliver...

you think about a whole heck of a lot.

I've been home for almost 8 days and the truth is that most times it blows. I have a baby due in less than 6 days and frankly there's no way to prepare for that. Sure, the bassinet is up and the room is painted (though I still can't find any f*cking borders grrrr!) and he's got enough onesies to wear to high school, but otherwise, you're just stuck. Wondering if the next moment amniotic fluid will come gushing out of your private parts or when some kind of pain you've never felt in your life will make you want to deliver the baby yourself...with your bare hands. So, in the meantime, I'm stuck at home watching TV and

I don't know what I was expecting from daytime TV, but it sure as hell doesn't deliver. In fact, I think I've forgotten just how horrendous it is between court tv shows and daytime soaps and Dr. Phil et al and their pre-packaged brand of counseling-it can be too much. I try to focus my time on three channels, TLC, HGTV, and the Food Network, but really how much Baby Story, cook-offs, and house makeovers can one watch before you're left singing along to Stacie Orrico's "There's Gotta Be More (To Life)"...

What would I like to watch though? That's the interesting question because I think we're so used to watching garbage that if someone asked us what we would want in a TV show daytime or 'prime time' I'm not sure we could answer. I like comedy. But I also like documentaries. I like to learn new things, but sometimes I just want to laugh. I want to see my life on television because that shit is funny, depressing, thought provoking, and anything but wholesome. Okay, so maybe not my life exactly, but something like it.

Even that is a post unto itself-the absence of Latina(o)s in the media-you know real ones with multidimensional personalities who struggle with more than just what to do when you're making rice and beans and realize you have no Sazon-THE HORROR!!! What about a show that focuses on a Latina trying to balance family and a career--with the Latina as the central character-not the supportive co-star who shines as the flawless matriarch who in the end knows how to 'put family first' or the spitfire who decides family and career are incapable of being intertwined and forgoes the former or the funny girl who's everyone's friend and secretly waits for the responsible, yet seductive man to make her feel whole (even if it means putting up with his infidelities). I guess realistically I know women like that, but I know a HELL of a lot more who aren't. Women who want to discuss sexuality with their daughters so that they're not duped into thinking sex is for men by women. Women who want to question policies in their workplace that obviously favor whites or men in general for that matter. Women who want to make noise and have their voices heard and be called bitches because after all, in our world, that seems to be the ultimate compliment.

BITCH= A woman who is assertive, strong, and unrelenting
BITCH= Woman unwilling to compromise on her principles
BITCH= Woman willing to call a spade a spade, an asshole an asshole, and a racist a racist
BITCH= Woman dedicated to defining-not being defined

I say all this after watching the season premiere of America's Next Top Model, re runs of Top Chef, and the new Kitchen Nightmares (on Fox with the guy from Hell's Kitchen). I say this after realizing that I probably lost very important brain cells in the process. I say this as I'm about to head back towards the TV because in the final days of labor-there's just not a whole heck of a lot to do. I say this as I hope (pray, plead, you pick) that in the LEAST, there's something funny on the tube that doesn't necessarily insult whole groups of people for the sake of cheap laughs--talk about setting low standards...

*sigh*

He's pushing too hard

my father...not my baby's father-he's doing very well and getting obviously nervous day by day lol-

but my biological father-the sperm donor who's never been a part of my life-is just so damn confusing. I mean it's hard for us to have phone conversations longer than 10 minutes, he's canceled plans on me more times than I care to remember, and he just really blows in the father category. I'm trying to understand in my head that he will probably be a solid acquaintance at best, but it's hard because I want him to be better than that. I want him to be more. Yet for my sanity I realize that I can't even pay too much attention to the whole thing.

Now the weird/uncomfortable/frustrating part is that he is trying so hard to connect me with his children. Like make us all a big, happy family-even sent me a letter saying as much (mind you-he sent me a letter from one borough of New York to the next, but hasn't even been able to make time or use the energy to physically see me-yeah that sh*t pisses me off). He gave my number to my younger "brothers and sisters" and gave me their number and he sent me some of their pics and a letter saying how he wants us to be close.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?

Now, i need, no scratch that, would like people to understand that this is not about my so called siblings. I don't have anything against them-they're all younger than me and I suppose one day it would be nice to talk to them and maybe be friends or something. But, right now, I'm trying to establish a relationship with a man who is my so-called father. I never called him and said I want to get to know your other children...I want to get to know YOU...eventually that will mean your children, but it doesn't mean NOW. He doesn't even live with them-what the fuck are we supposed to talk about? What it's like to not have him in our lives-he's been definitely more involved with them than me, but he's still missing from their lives right now, so I guess that could be a bonding option. Except that I don't want to bond over that.

Sometimes, it's so hard because he'll say something like, "Do you have your brother's number?" or "Has your sister called you?" and I want to yell at him, "Yes, all my brothers and sisters, who I grew up with have my number and call me, I call them, and we see each other, now who are you talking about?" And sometimes I think that's cold or selfish and other times I really don't care. If they call me, I definitely talk to them (it's only been once, but it was cute and awkward because the youngest called me, she's 10 or 11, i'm 23, it would have been weird no matter what lol), but I'm not making an effort and it's not personal. It's just not my life and not what i'm looking for right now.

Then to make the experience that much more frustrating is that the fact that he feels the need to give me advice-unsolicited and borderline useless-but it pisses me off nonetheless. For example, so people can see that I'm not crazy (or that I am whatever)-here's a sample, real convo we had recently:

Sperm Donor(SD): So, where's your boyfriend?
Me: He's not home right now.
SD: He's never home.
Me: He's home alot, but for some reason when you call, he isn't usually home.
SD: And you don't get mad or anything.
Me: No, what do I need to get mad about. I talk to him on the phone. He knows when I'm home and I know when he's coming home.
SD: That's good, I guess. Your mom was like that with me too. She never bothered me when I'd get home late. She would even ask me if I wanted something to eat or wanted her to turn on the shower.
Me: (Stifling the urge to tell him everything I know about that-how mom knew he was a cheating dog, how he was older than her and so she didn't really know how to approach him about his behavior, how she felt like she bent over backwards to gain his love which proved fruitless, how she believes he took advantage of her eagerness to please him-but I stifle it and say instead...) Yeah, I don't fight about things like that. If I didn't trust him I wouldn't be with him. I don't feel the need to spend time with someone I don't trust and also have to fit time into my life to argue with that person.
SD: That's good...but you gotta be smart too. Let him know that some things aren't acceptable and that he has to be a grown man-he's got a baby coming.

PAUSE

Now-I was able to wrap up the convo very quickly before I went through the phone and choked him, BUT

who the fuck gave him the indication that I wasn't smart enough to know when a man was pulling the wool over my eyes-who said that my boyfriend and I hadn't established what is and is not acceptable in our relationship-who said my boyfriend was not a grown man or that anyone else could insult him except for me...

See? why is this man worrying his little head over giving me unsolicited, irrelevant advice instead of worrying about what a bad father he's been and how he is scoring no points right now either? Or does he think that this is what a father should do? Because I guess the problem is that he's not my father and he isn't going to be. No matter how many times he leaves me a voicemail and says, "Hi __, this is F, your father" or writes a letter signed, F, your father-he is not my father and will not be my father. I guess the truth is that it is becoming more and more evident, that my FATHER, my DAD, with all his flaws and challenges, lives in Connecticut, is married to my mom, and is the father of the siblings that I grew up with. And I could post a long rambling post about his flaws too, but at the end of the day-I love him, he loves me, he sucks, and sometimes I'm a bitch-and I'm okay with that.

My Two Dads

So it's been a long time in the making, this post I mean, trying to figure out how to write it, when to write, why I should bother. And yet, I wrote it already-in the shower, on the toilet, in bed, cooking dinner, I've written this many, many times, but now I share it with you.

I don't remember what My Two Dads was about, at least not specifically. I know there were two White guys who were taking care of a nice, typical TV white teenager. I looked it up to try to remember the show and it came back a little. The two fathers had gained custody of the girl after her mother died-both had tried to gain the affection of her mother and when she passed were granted custody together. They fought because they had different personalities, they fought because raising a teenager will make you do that, they fought because it was in the script to do so, duh :-) Anyway, it was cute, innocent, & canceled in 3 years-Nothing like my two dads.

In this corner, hailing from Southside Brooklyn, New York, we have soon to be 42 year old Nuyorican "M". M is my step father who raised me since I was two years old, give or take a few months. Millions of miles from perfect, this is who I call Dad. He didn't graduate from high school, he's struggled with substance abuse for as long as I've known him, he's been violent and/or abusive to everyone in my home, from mom to grandma to every child and he's passive-aggressive in a textbook kind of way. He's also funny, generous, and downright vulnerable in a child like way. As a social worker, I think he has poor coping skills stemming from multiple childhood traumas. As a daughter, a sister, and a soon to be mother, I think he might be crazy. I think I would like to say that our relationship is like a roller coaster ride, but the truth is that roller coaster rides have beautiful, exhilarating highs and our relationship does not. I feel blessed when we're cruising along, able to laugh together and maybe only focus on superficial topics of conversation in ten minute intervals. I feel cursed, when all the rage I have in my heart comes rushing to the surface because of one look, one comment, one misstep, and all I can think is that if he disappeared off the face of the earth, I would be fine, fine, fine. But he's my Dad, and though technically he's not the only one I got, he is-because

in this corner, born and raised in Puerto Rico (where I don't really know) but in the United States since his late teen years, we have 40 something year old "F". Can you tell how much I know about him already? While "M" battled with substance abuse mostly in the form of alcoholism (with some dabbling in coke use over the years), "F" found heroin to be his drug of choice and an ugly mistake if I've ever seen one. Therefore, "F" has been in and out of jail and/or rehab over the years and not even a small part of my life. I know I saw him sometimes as a child, but can't remember. My mom just told me they both lived together with me for almost a year of my life, I didn't know that before. And the one time I saw him that I could remember, I was 17 years old and couldn't speak to him because I didn't have the words and apparently neither did he-it was very awkward. That was about 6 years ago. I'd like to tell you the positives about him, but I don't know them. Maybe he's funny too. Maybe he's generous. Maybe he's kind and maybe he's smart. No idea. But ever since, I got pregnant I decided I needed to know him. I need to know the good, the bad, and the downright ugly because for better or for worse, his blood runs through my veins and his essence is part of my unborn son's. So one day, maybe a month ago I got his number from his mother, found out we were both in New York City, and called him. Over the course of this past month, we've talked a few times, trying to stitch together a broken past, a distinct present, and an unsure future as father and daughter. So many questions that need to be answered, so many answers that I'll wish were left unsaid, so many sighs of exasperation for a relationship that may never be what it could have been.

See because the truth is, I technically have two dads, neither of which is perfect, but both of which are mine. And I don't know what this ever meant, what it means now, nor what it will mean later. I only know that for most of my life I believed I had a "Dad" and a "sperm donor", pardon the crudeness, but that's what I thought. And now, I'm trying to accept that I may have two dads, may because my real father may end up disappearing from my life at any moment, may because my stepfather may be completely hurt if he finds out I am talking to my real father and then we'll have to deal with that, may because I might come to the conclusion that this young woman here can only handle one flawed, painfully human Dad at a time. I guess only time will tell.

Late night thoughts

I have a midterm due tomorrow, perhaps, the last midterm I'll ever have to write, hand in, and forget about. I say perhaps because I plan to get a doctorate degree one day (at this point far, far away-i'm glad to be done with grad school at the end of the month) and i'm not sure how that works exactly. Call me a proud first generation higher education consumer...

Anyway, the real problem is I can't write it-I want to because I'm actually interested in the class and I enjoy the topic. Every class meeting, I enjoy the discussions, new information, challenging questions, so on and so forth...but as I sit in front of the computer, I'm blanking out. I don't want to do it, I don't care to do it, but I also get this obnoxious anxiety that I can't. A good friend of mine (and seasoned mom of two) says that pregnancy can affect concentration, memory, etc. and it's nice to know I'm not just losing my normally intelligent mind permanently, but...Sometimes it just feels like so much, pregnancy, everything feels like so much. This morning I cried in the shower because my back hurt so much and my boyfriend is usually really good at massages, but he was asleep and I was just so angry that he was asleep and angry that my back hurt and any other emotion that could have piled on just did.

Frustration
Anxiety
Anger
Hurt
One on top of the other and I just cried and lied in the warm bath touching my stomach wanting to scream and tantrum and whatever else...
and my baby moved
over and over again
and I cried some more
because it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever experienced

And i guess part of me felt guilty for being tired of being pregnant, but I think I also felt like my little man (it's a boy) wanted me to know that it's okay to be tired, it's okay to cry, and that it'll be worth it soon (very soon if you notice my pregnancy ticker from the previous post). And the truth is, I'm still scared, and I'm still frustrated sometimes, and when my back doesn't hurt it's my legs or my feet, but I'm going to be a mom to a real live boy who will have feelings, and thoughts, and desires and shit that makes the crying a little more bearable and the midterm feel like the least of my worries...