Sunday, January 5, 2014

Money baby

I peed on the stick and watched as the hour glass turned into the scientific report back.
I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck.
Tears burst from my eyes as the emotion slammed into me like a head on collision. 
We would be bringing our child into this world.
We stood there starring at each other for probably minutes, laughing, then getting serious, then delirious and repeated over and over, "I can't believe we're pregnant."

Weeks passed by and we often laid around talking, fantasizing and planning for our bundle.
What would it be like? How would we do it? Would we figure out a way to love on no sleep?
We played the name game for months and fell in love with each other even more when we came to an agreement on two names.

I spent the next 12 weeks puking into toilets, buckets, bushes, buses, or just randomly on the sidewalk.
I managed to throw up everything except my excitement, including my manners about discussing my puking with friends and perfect strangers.
When I managed to go two whole days without feeling as though I was on a sinking ship, we rented books from the library. 
We would become educated parents or at least ones who had tried to learn a little something before boo boo was born.

Advice said that American parents who are "ahead of the game" should shop for daycare way before the baby arrives. This I took seriously.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, worry strained on my face and tears quietly streaking down.
I don't know how we will do it. I don't know how anyone does it.
The next couple months of daycare looked equivalent to a year of college at our state school. 
My boss excitedly told me that our office is "great" and allows women to take up to 12 weeks childcare.
6 weeks disability, 60% of salary.
4 weeks PTO
2 week unpaid.
She waited for me to wave a pom pom. 
My brain circled round and round.
Student loans, diapers, food, diapers, mortgage, St. Croix water that I love so much, 60% of my non-profit salary. 
I choked down the fear into my stomach until I could no longer sit comfortably. 

Welcome to the world boo boo, all of a sudden excitement has turned into financial chaos and worry and this is before you've even arrived. 

What is the true cost of having a baby in the United States? Much more than I ever would've have dreamed.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Sundays: The Worst

Sunday you and I started out so optimistic together,
Like young lovers seeing each other for the first time after summer vacation.
I feel your body as if it's new, but familiar searching for the known mole on the arch of your back.
I breathe you in and smile at how my longing for you has come to a close. 
We are here together now, sitting on a bench hands holding each other, smiling without words.
It will be a wonderful day together.

Then the middle of the day comes and the things that we could've been together start to flutter by like August butterflies.
Plans to get a house orderly, school work completed, a great workout, groceries purchased and letter written, gently fly past me into the back yard as I take down the Hanukkah lights. 
A lengthy phone call with my mom about gardens is interrupted by pieces of garbage showing themselves from the snow's melt of absent-minded pedestrians passing our house.
A long time bill needs paying and log-in information is not easily found, the sun is now working it's way downward. 
I start to look hard at my familiar lover, seeing that not so much has changed since the last time I saw him.

At dinner time on this day, we barely speak and it's not because of some beautiful understanding, it's a cemented joint resentment. 
My beloved Sunday has betrayed me, passing me by with a check-list chalk full of to do's that have turned into didn'ts. 
I slurp my store bought meal down, not one item met the flames of my kitchen. 
Thursday's laundry remains in the dryer, wilted and now basement scented. 
School work books were opened but closed too quickly. 
A good work out was conquered by a coffee shop bakery item.

Now it's night and my Monday looming in front of me. 
Sunday, you tricked me into waiting for you, only to be betrayed again. 
I will remember this moment and next week will know your "endless possibilities" that one who awakes next to you feeling are truly limited with pages of fine print. 
Saturday is looking very handsome these days and I heard he might be available.  

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Ideal v Real

It's not that you shouldn't dream, look and hope,
Just don't let that list of should be's become the rope,
Of expectations that end up as a noose around your throat,
How can you expect love to arrive at your door, getting past your mote,
Protecting your heart from the real
By making you wait for the ideal?

Honey, you're not alone, in fact you're with quite the crowd,
The same ones who get drunk at weddings, crying they have yet to be found.
First things first, we need to admit our worst.
We have things we need to change, improve and grow,
There's no way we can always been the best in show.
Trust me, if there's one thing I know,
It's that I need to read more books, go for more runs, and spend less time in my computer's glow.
Now your turn, take a look at yourself and try it in a mirror.
What do you see? Maybe one, two or three too many beers?
Give yourself a break, you're still a looker -
But let's be serious, probably couldn't make trump money as a hooker.

You want to find someone who Blah Blah Blahs,
Can you chew that meat yourself, before you break your claws?
Do you go hiking? Do you volunteer?
Do you make shit happen, my dear?
This person you're waiting for is right here and inside of you.
So it's time to start turning a different color, anything but blue.
You always knew,
It was only you that was holding you back.

It's not that you shouldn't dream, look and hope,
Just don't let that list of should be's become the rope,
Of expectations that end up as a noose around your throat,
How can you expect love to arrive at your door, getting past your mote,
Protecting your heart from the real,
By making you wait for the ideal?