Celibrating Pagan Fertility Holidays with a Baby

So...

I swore off Christian holidays. 

I'll do the egg thing.  I'll buy gifts and chocolate.  I'll buy toy bunnies for the neighborhood kids but I won't plan a feast or deal with anything like a holiday. 

Every time I do that, some dork muffin has to get all drama kingish and screw the day up. 

I didn't plan anything big today at all. 

I woke up and meditated.  I want to type "medicated"...but I left the valerian vodka alone.  I did eat a ton of jelly beans, so there was a sugar intoxication thingy going on.  I had to energy to work out for 90 minutes. 

My daughter brought over the grandbaby.  She and her....uh...love interest did not realize that today was Easter.  Thankfully, I bought toys and a basket for their little one.  I had a feeling they may come over.   

The baby used to have red curly hair.  It's not a dark blond and straight. 

She has my green eyes. 


She likes to play with my keyboard and sing.  She's really into rhythym (the funkier the better).  I'm thinking she'll either be a drummer or a bass player. 

She also likes to cook. 

She actually likes to drink rose water, just like I do.  I jokingly told her mom that my grandbaby's poop smells like roses. 

It does....at least it does now. 


It won't later.  She ate meat. 

I don't get to see her too much. Her father is embarrassed that he got caught cheating on my daughter with a couple of other people.

Here is a hint: If you cheat, don't post it on Facebook. 

And, if you must....forgo the pics!!! 

¿Comprende?




And yeah, he speaks fluent Spanish.  I studied it for five years.  I can't speak a word but I can understand when my future son in law is telling the waiter that I'm hot for his nards. 

Some men.....(censored)...

Ah...the drama that I wish would leave my life.  When did my life become a soap opera?  Crap, if I have to live though this drama, I want some ad revenue for it. 

Darn...

Because the baby likes to explore food and get her hands dirty, the baby and I made dinner for the people who dropped by.  We made ham.  Her grandfather wanted bacon, so we made bacon.  It wasn't real bacon...it was turkey bacon.  At least, it wasn't tofu bacon (aka fakin' bacon).  The baby dipped the bacon in chocolate pudding and loved that.  It looked disgusting but she liked it. 

I wish I were joking....

she must have a cast iron stomach. 


We made homemade rolls and potato salad. 

We made strawberry shortcake. 

The cutest thing on the planet is the little baby discovering strawberries. 

She'll put them to her nose and inhale sharply before letting out a long audible "mmmmmmmm'. 


I don't know how her mother is going to get all that fruit out of her nose. 


She did manage to get some in her mouth. 

If I knew I was going to live here, I'd plant some strawberries for her.  That's the sucky thing about trying to leave a dead marriage and not wanting the house, you're loathe to plant anything that you know the person who wants the house will neglect and let die. 

She needs strawberries...that kid is awfully cute for being nine months old. 

I'm in awe....she's a creative soul. 

Bacon and chocolate....

I never thought of that. 

Maybe she'll be a chef. 

Hmmmm.....


The more I get to know the little baby, the less I want to smack her father for being a bozo.  There must be some good in there....

somewhere....

thank goodness it is not my place to judge him. 

He did try to sleep with me....after he knocked up my daughter...so I have an issue with him. 

Yeah, yeah...we were at a restaurant during the holiday season of '10.  I was with my ex and we were talking about the bad run of luck my other ex and his wife were having and pondering ways to help.  Given the amount of attention being paid to my exes, the last thing on my mind was sex but...

my daughter's fiance thought I wanted him. 

Apparently, he thought that the more I covered my extremities, the more that meant I needed him. 

I went home that night to find a long message on Facebook.  I'm beautiful.  I'm hot.  He likes what he sees...yadda...yadda..yadda.

My reply was simply "I'm glad you like how I look, stick around another twenty years and that is what the mother of your child will look like."


Then I let the man in the basement have a good laugh at the message the young clown sent to me. 

Of course, I told my daughter.  We laughed about my stint at cougardom.  We joked about how young men can choose flabby arms and experience or tight muscles, willingness, endurance and gymnastics.  Only a fool would want loose and flabby old bitchy women.  That's when I learned that he has a thing for cougars and that he slept with her boss. 

It's my fault.  I taught her to put up with morons and keep the promises she makes even when they don't. 

I've got to leave.  The longer I stay, the more chaos I endure.  This is getting too weird for words.  I think I have a big sign on my forehead that says, 'I'll put up with anything!'

If I leave, I give her permission to flush her turd.

Okay, butt potato is a bit harsh.  Let's just say that my daughter's boyfriend is a bozo.  

Sorry...

It is so damn hard not wanting to smack him. 

I'm doing my best not to be a monster-in-law. 

Really...


Stupid boy..he'll be forced to sleep with old flabby women in due time.  I mean, really....the years between 22 and 40 just kinda fly by.  He shouldn't waste them with old chicks.  He needs to trust in the process of aging.  Women start looking scary about the same time the men start needing bifocals.  Nature probably does that for a reason. 


Oh well...

He does make a decent sperm donor.



Love,

S.