Sunday, 4 January 2009


I couldn’t hold out any longer. It took longer to pack the freaking car than the three hour drive to get there. I was worried, as I’d never driven that long alone with the baby before.

I timed it so that it was his nap time, but he hardly slept at all. Woke up just as I was going through McDonalds drive-thru for a large latte and frozen coke, which I ended up drinking both together because I am disgusting like that. I have a “cast-iron” stomach, as do both my boys. I was always so proud of the fact that I could drink such a lot of booze until I threw up. Of course, towards the end of drinking, I threw up a lot. But that is the story of another day as this is the story of the baby and the journeys we have been on.

By the time we hit the bottom of the mountain, he was getting restless, and I was getting scared. Suddenly I had a Go-Go-Gadget arm that could feed him his bottle as I was driving. He sits behind the passenger seat, I still don’t know how I did it. I was thinking a lot about him, how cute he was and how we had bonded the last few days. I read your comments on my last post, and as always, felt buoyed and better and comforted. Then I had the biggest realisation of all …. what if this whole thing we have been through, makes mine and the baby’s relationship stronger than it ever would have been? Instead of weak and lacking, as I always thought it would be.

He was looking at me in the rear view mirror almost the whole journey. Sussing me out. Smiling. Making demands. At one point, he was reaching a crescendo that was about to turn into wailing. So in desperation, I turned the CD player on. The Doors settled him right down – but only if I blared it so loud. He fucking loved it, and fully chilled out. “Into this house we’re born/Into this world we’re thrown.”

This baby was thrown into the world. It was not my fault. I was worried I would not love him enough. I do. I DO. This baby is as tough as nails and strong as an ox. He wants to know how to do things. On the verge of crawling. Sleeps through every night. Had his first swim in the surf today, didn't bat a freakin' eye.

By the time we got to the F3 turn-off to the Central Coast, I realised that by driving off the other day, Dave had triggered my abandonment issues. They run so deep that I doubt there is even a bottom. Just endless sea of despair. I was still so cranky, and still am. I also have PMS and am eating WAY too much chocolate which is giving me sugar rage. I try to jog it off as quick as I'm eating it, alas, my bikini is WAY too tight and I'm WAY to fucking flabby for a bikini anyway. Tomorrow I shall have to but a one-piece. Just until, you know, I get some abs of steel. We are staying at a beautiful house near the beach, and I’m trying so hard to enjoy it. Your comments still ringing true for me …. so nice to know that I am not alone! That you joined my “I’m fucked up; You’re fucked up!” club.

Dave has a lump on his arm. I’m taking him straight to the doctor when we get home. I refuse to dwell on it.

We are eating way too much. The guys keep mooning each other in public, trying to out-gross each other. It never works – none of us, especially me, are gross-out-able. I hold Rocco and kiss his golden head and tell him that will be him soon, running around being naughty. He knows.

If Dave bosses me around one more time I may punch him. All of us argue about what to have for lunch. Will we go to the beach or the shops. What will we have for dinner. I feel like a Simpson most of the time. But I love it, and am trying to live in a Spirit of Contentment instead of Resentment.

There’s a woman on facebook, whose page I look at a lot. We were best friends at a school in Sydney when I was seven. She’s a dancer, and literally dances her way across the world. Paris, India, America …. right now she is in Thailand. Always dancing. I think I look at her with some envy. No worries, no cancer, no babies, no fucked-up past, no messy family dynamics. Just her and her feet, and her exotic friends. I wonder what it would be like, to be her.

Last night, I wondered if she wondered what it would be like to have a messy family, and kids, and a hubby, and a home … all the things she doesn’t. If she wondered, what it would be like … to be me.


  1. The old saying about the grass is greener next door is very true. BUT, you have no idea what weeds are under their lawn just waiting to pop through. I bet if you talked to dancer lady she would tell you she longs for lunch arguments with children. Betcha.

  2. E!

    So glad you went it to the beach. As a general rule (made to be broken, of course) ... everything (alone time, family time) in moderation.

    I was crazy enough once to take a ten hour road trip (to visit my cousin) with a baby and a three year old. I don't know what I was thinking. I think I was trying to prove that I was tough and independant, that I was still a badass. Ha. Maybe. Also insane. The fates didn't punish me too badly. One bonus, it gave my parents fits. Never to old to enjoy that.

    As for your two fisted Latte (DH loves the frozen ones from McD's)/frozen coke, I didn't bat a lash. Been eating like crap lately.

    I think your realization that you and your relationship with Rocco is ~stronger~ is dead on. You were your own best commenter on that one. I bet you it might take years to notice all the things that are stronger now, hey?

    I wonder if Rocco will be like DS2 -- sounds like it. DS2 is in a total rush to keep up with the big kids. He walked a month and a half before they did and he never wants to be anywhere but smack in the middle of the action. It's continually amazing.

    All I could think about your dancer was that I totally know where you are coming from, but you just never know what's under the covers. Miserable is the original equal opportunity employer, no? Unlike Happy, sometimes you don't even have to earn it.



  3. I think we all look at others and think we would like to have what they have. Just like they want what someone else has. As far as your family being like the Simpsons, we all are. It's just some go to great lengths to cover it up. Have a great time at the beach.

  4. Once, after a disastrous -- and I mean disastrous dinner party -- where every person I'd slept with recently and people I wanted to but who didn't want me -- or people who wanted me but I didn't want them -- all of us messily friends somehow -- and a girlfriend or boyfriend or two stuck in the mix -- all eating and sharing bottles of wine. All I could do is run away, and its all I did. I wrote of it before, but I should again now that I think of it -- there's an exhiliration in being you in a car -- and you and your sweet boy -- all the better -- isn't there something in the experience that brings you back to some essential self -- the road and the distances...of course that may be me -- my essentially romantic self...

    Eden. I love you, I get this so completely -- I look around at my messy life and often think there's some parallel life for me out there -- but I know really in my heart that the happiest I've ever been -- the most me I've ever been -- has been here.

    Oh, and G and W have been off for Xmas break and we're at one another's throats -- fa lala la la la....


    Let's road trip all over the American West with frozen cokes and lattes all around and the boys can keep company!

    Love love love and more,


  5. Arguing about every meal is certainly better than the usual trading of "I don't care, you pick" that goes on around here! Glad you're at the beach! But for the fact that I hate sand and burn like a lobster, I would wish I was there with you...

    The dancer totally wishes she had the kids/husband/home.

    PS Thanks for the comment - made me laugh at the image of my husband throwing medications at me. But, sadly, Airborne is simply a tablet of vitamins that fizzes in water. It's supposed to prevent you from getting sick.

  6. eden- the grass is always greener, isnt it?

    With all of it- you would choose your life over anyone else's.

    I give you so much credit for being the only women in your family, it takes a lot of gusto!

  7. PLEASE...take lots of pictures and post them! I can't wait to see them.
    I was a limit pusher as well when I was abusing. I could take D.O.C. to new levels. Now my D.O.C is a pot of coffee. Not a cup, a pot! Man I love my genes.

    As for a bikini, HELL NO! It has been about 5yrs since one graced my body. When you go from a size 4 to a size 10 in that many years you need duct tape and a funnel to get into one.

    Glad things are getting better!

  8. I bet you she does....

    I shudder with fear at the thought of my skin flap hanging over my c/s scar whilst in a bikini. Terror!

  9. Dancing is very hard on the feet. My friend Samantha was a ballet dancer and her feet were always bleeding and blistered and it just never seemed worth it to me, you know? Plus, the weight requirements and having to keep skinny like that...meh. I'd rather be fat and happy. Abs of steel I will never have. Say, is that a donut?

    I think Rocco and Sam came from the same place. I think they knew each other before they were born. Soul brothers. Everything you write about Rocco reminds me of Sam, seems like something Sam would like or do.

    I'm praying that Dave's arm is just lumpy. That his biceps are growing biceps. That you can freely sock right there him next time he bosses you.

    Love you much.

  10. Yay for going to the beach. No way could I resist the beach. We are going up the Central Coast this weekend...I can't wait !

    Have loads of fun!

  11. Grass is always greener isn't it. Commenter OHN is right about the weeds though!

  12. It's good to get away! I'm trying for abs of steel too and I'm wayyyyyy older than you, so you'll likely be wayyyyyyy more successful! Your baby loves you....and always will. Even when my son is angry and messed up, he calls me. I take it to mean he's reaching out, I hope so.

    Oh, and your dancer friend, I'll bet she envies those who have babies straggling around after them. You know, we all want what we don't have unless we learn contentment. And see you're working on that! :)

    Have fun!

  13. Being able to quiet a baby while driving down an expressway is never a skill that I thought I would be able to count in my repertoire - parenting teaches you all sorts of new things.

    The throwing up. A few months back I got a touch of a stomach bug and I realized that it was the first time I had thrown up since I quit drinking. The only bright spot in a particularly yucky spell!


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