Remember those awful baby in a blender jokes?

OK, so my title is almost as bad as the jokes were. I don't know why that popped into my head and I suppose I should apologize. But, I was thinking about blended families and having babies. You see the connection don't you?

So, moving on. La la la

< /tangent > I cannot for the life of me remember to write 2009. I'll probably master it sometime around June. < /end tangent>


Have you been reading all the bloggers out there that are having babies? Yeah, there are about elventy hundred of them gestating as we speak. Then there are the bloggers with babies that were just born and are still all squishy and yummy. Then there are the bloggers who have decided (or have had that decision made for them) that they are done making babies. Seriously internet, can't you fucking talk about anything but babies? That's where I'm at. The "Done Making Babies" camp. But, God help me (and yes, I really do mean that!), I can't help staring longingly at the other side.

Having babies is a natural thing and apparently I'm pretty good at it. Thing1 was a (omg, what the hell are we going to do now, you have got to be kidding, holy shit) wonderful surprise that defied the 99.9% odds. Thing2 was not quite as surprising but just as improbable. We used to joke around that if Ex sneezed on me, I could get pregnant. Around the time that Thing2 was toddling, Ex and I decided that we were Done. He had the connector hoses severed and life went on. I would flip flop back and forth between the Thank God We're Done mindset to the Maybe We Should Have Had Just One More mindset but for the most part I didn't think about it at all. About 3 years ago I started having Pre-Menopausal symptoms. I had the hot flashes and the dryness and the spotting and the hormones that were EVERYWHERE. I saw a specialist and then another specialist and then another. After much ado and some chemical manipulation, my system mellowed the hell out and remembered that i. am. not. that. fucking. old. yet. But while I was going through it I experienced some pretty traumatic emotional upheaval. I questioned who I was as a woman. What made me feminine? I didn't know anymore. This probably sounds crazy. I know I felt crazy when I was going through it. Having operational ovaries has absolutely nothing to do with my value as a woman. I knew this. But my heart and my brain were not communicating very well. It was a personal crisis that was all consuming. It was consuming me or at least what I thought was me. But I waded through it and came out the other side a bit more life-battered but stronger and more loving towards myself. Life went on. When Ex and I split I knew that I wanted to have my own connectors rewired. The decision that we had made years ago was still the right decision. I needed to know that the decision was mine, and mine outside of anyone else that I might begin a relationship with. It was all about me. It needed to be all about me. - - - For various reasons, the actual rerouting of my plumbing kept getting put off. And then there was the summer of no job, thus no insurance. So I waited some things out, and waited some more. And while I waited my heart was kidnapped. It was stolen right out of my chest. It is now being held captive by a certain SexyMan. And while that changed absolutely nothing in the way of having more children... at the same time, it changed everything.

As of Jan 1st, I am insured again. However, for the last couple of months I have been obsessing about having a baby. In case you have forgotten, SM and I have 6 spawn between the two of us. That's a whole lot of Corn Flakes and college tuition people. He has triplets, 7 year old triplets! He is Done. He has been very very clear from the beginning that he is Done. I was in complete agreement with him. And now I'm just not so sure. I mean, I'm sure... I think... but not really. And every time I see him notice someone else's baby and get that mushy-gushy-silly-sweet smile my uterus starts doing cartwheels. It's all very confusing. I scheduled the consultation to shut down my baby-factory. I really really want to cancel it.

How's that for emotional turmoil? Had enough? Too bad, there was another half to my terribly inappropriate title. The blended family:

I've heard this before, many many times from my friend Amy. Blended families are HARD. Well fuck if that isn't the understatement of the century! Although, blending the family wouldn't be all that hard if it weren't for the psychotic ex'es. Please take note of the non-capitalized ex. Ex (meaning my ex-husband) is not psycho and is still in fact one of my best friends. Our situation is weird but not crazy. SexyMan's ex on the other hand literally has mental health issues that could and should be controlled by medication (which she is not taking) in addition to being a complete bitch. In real life (and now here in cyber life) I refer to her as Satan. - - The disruption to the smooth familial blending occurs when Satan pumps the heads of small children full of crap like "Your dad just doesn't care" or "Your sister mean and dangerous." Lies. She encourages them to be disrespectful and disobedient to their father. Lies. She tells them horrible things about their sister. Lies. She undermines everything that we do. Intentionally. Lies. She tells them that they should say to me, "Shut Up, We Don't Have To Listen To You." Now, I'm a parent of my own children and it's not often that I've let a child get the upper hand. I have never been one to tolerate that kind of thing. But when there is the threat of custody suits based on lies that for some reason the court system believes are true until proven false... well, you see how difficult this whole thing can be. The triplets are not bad kids. In fact, the are each individually FANTASTIC. So unique and amazing and fun and fabulous. However, they are being manipulated in order to break apart our little family. We cannot stop Satan from being evil. We just have to learn how to deal with the effects of her disgusting machinations. It is phenomenally difficult. I see the progress we make and it feels wonderful and at the same time it's exhausting. Worth the effort and worth the fight every minute of every day. But certainly, there are times when I just wish it would end. I fantasize about The. Death. Of. Satan. Of course, we all know that you can't actually kill pure evil so I'm stuck with my impotent dreams there. When you mix in how difficult it is to discuss with a partner challenges about THEIR child (because when it boils down to stuff like that, sensitivities rise and defenses go up and it definitely becomes Mine and Yours) you never know if it's going to be a civil war or if it's going to be a joining of forces. It's a touchie subject. Very touchie.
All that being said:

I still think that I might... just maybe... a little bit... pretty sure... definitely... perhaps... want another child.

Shit!