Cease Fire

Please stand by for an immediate update * Nate asked me to buy him a scratch off lottery ticket last Friday. He won $200 and he has 40 something still left. He was soooo thrilled and one of the things he figured he should do with it was donate some to charity. Guess how many times we’ve been through the McDonald’s drive thru to donate to the Make A Wish foundation? I think I’ve gained 5 lbs. * AZ is leaving for Boston either tomorrow or Saturday. Nate and I worked at the shop until about 11 last night. AZ has talked about just staying here and I have told him he is leaving. He is going to Boston, otherwise I will severely hurt his cranky grouchy bear ass. * I had to cart one of my best friend’s home this evening. She recently started coming clean about being an alcoholic. I came clean about having boundaries when it comes to alcoholics. She called, said she was drunk, I told her to sit tight, I dropped Nate at T-Bird’s, I drove to where she was, got her keys, put her in the car, and drove her home. She wanted to come to my house to "sleep it off," what I call, "avoiding the consequences of driving my parents’ car drunk." She begged me not to do it. Begged me to turn around. Nope. Remember how I JUST BLOGGED ABOUT CO-DEPENDENCY???? Remember it is a SLIPPERY SLOPE? We’re not 15 and 14 anymore, we’re 35 and 34. If I had allowed her to stay here, then I would have enabled her to avoid and lie to her parents and lie to herself. I just don’t do that anymore. I hated it, but I had to do what I did. Girl, I know you read this sometimes, but I’m not sorry for what I did. I love you, but I love myself, my sanity, and the place I am with the whole co-dependency thing too much to backslide. Now it’s time for the MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT My co-worker should thank Brighton for saving his life. I had to make an emergency phone call to Brighton today due to my co-worker’s idiotic remarks. We’ll just call them by some nicknames, shall we? The Lass says she is going to a baby shower this weekend for a friend. This is the friend’s 2nd child in 3 years. Obviously, a trend is developing where peeps have baby showers for every baby they have, as opposed to just the first. The Italian says he doesn’t allow his wife to go to 2nd baby showers nor baby showers for illegitimate babies. The Lass says, "Well, they’re the ones who probably need it the most." The Italian responds, "Well, she can send a gift but she’s not celebrating some chick getting knocked up out of wedlock." That stabbed me in the heart. It really got to me. I half turned in my seat and I said, "Well as the mother of an illegitimate child, I can tell you that my child is just as special as yours." The Italian looks surprised and says, "I know!" The Lass says, "The baby shower is for the baby, to give things for the baby, not to condone or condemn the mother." I’m paraphrasing since my second head was trying to push it’s way through my shoulder and I can feel my tongue splitting. The Italian responds something of the nature, "I don’t think you should be celebrating someone getting knocked up out of wedlock." I turn both of my heads all the way around, pea soup flying everywhere, my forked tongue now flicking out of my mouth, eyes of red, and I said, "All life deserves to be celebrated regardless of the circumstances." Or something like that, as by this time that red film had descended, there’s this roaring in my ears, and the distinctive sound of a snake’s rattle. I guess, maybe, I said it with enough passion and probably a bit of, you know, venom, that he figured he wasn’t going to win this battle and backed down. Now, the reason I got so upset, besides the fact that he didn’t mention the schmuck who happened to help knock up this chick, was because that’s exactly how my family treated me when I had my baby shower. No one from my family was there because they didn’t want to condone my illicit behavior. I think you all can tell, this was no fucking cakewalk for me. I was not any happier about the situation than they were, but, I was carrying a child, LIFE, inside of ME! This innocent baby, who had nothing whatsoever to do with the shitty circumstances. Shall I wear the Scarlet Letter as well? Navy Boy tried to egg things on, almost to the point of cruelty after the Italian left for lunch. I didn’t respond in anyway. I didn’t look at him and I didn’t speak to him. I was so mad and upset, it took me an hour to calm down and that was only after I placed my emergency six minute phone call to B. (B’s response: Oh, Catholic huh, he probably has little dick syndrome.) No offense to my Catholic readers. I almost called my mother and confronted her about my baby shower. I wanted to know if it made her feel good, to know, that she will never, ever see her daughter pregnant again, nor will she ever attend any festivities welcoming said child to the world. See, not everything is water under the bridge. Sometimes that old shit, it rears its ugly head. But you know what? I remembered I was there. I was at my baby shower. I was there for the birth of my son. I look at him today and I love him with such incredible intensity. I love his big heart and the way he makes funny faces. It no longer matters to me how he got here, it only matters that he’s here and he touches the lives around him in a good way. I had, and continue to have, every right to celebrate the incredible gift of this child. He’s made me a better, stronger person. I love you, Natty. The Fourteen Years War will continue tomorrow