Thursday, December 27, 2012

Merry Christmas?

Whether its my grandpa, mother, guy I slept with the night before, r.a.w., my teacher, or boss; I try not to let who is reading my blog waver the way I write, or what I write about. I could have chosen to write anonymously, but who knew my blog would turn into something beyond a personal journal of my travels with Luca. A few of my single mommy friends have blogs that they write and attach no name to it. They write about things that I could never ever write about. These are what we call secret blogs. Yes, that beautiful mom with her perfect hair and shoes sitting next to you on the bus just had a one night stand with a married man. After she read 4 books, bathed and fed her baby a bottle, she wrote an entry with every single dirty dirty detail. The size, the shape, the smell, the kiss, the number exchange, the text messages. All the secrets. I was welcomed with open arms when I became a single mother. It's like an omish community, but the complete opposite. If you haven't been a single mother you can't begin to imagine what goes on. I think of myself as a well respected woman. I dress nice, I am an outstanding mother, good student, and one day I will be a registered nurse. But oh boy I can get into some maj trouble when Luca is having an overnighter. I walk out the house and all the sudden I am not who I was when I was inside the house. That being said, I never wished for this. I never ever thought this would be my life. Instead of being guilty about it, I am proud of the beautiful, powerful woman I am. Some where in history, society made mothers feel like if we did anything besides mother we should be shunned. Sometimes when I'm out and I've had a few more glasses of wine than I should have (or 8 billion shots of Jamisons) I think to myself... JENNA how dare you...YOU are a MOTHER. Then I remember that my daughter is safe- nuzzled up to her daddy in a warm, comfy, nice house. I deserve to do all the fun things I have done in the last two years. My biggest pet peeve is when a friend ask's "Do you have Luca tonight?" OF COURSE i have Luca you asshole, she is my CHILD.
Please note: I do not sleep with married men; that woman next to you on the bus is not me.

Ok I must do a Christmas update. This time last year Luca and I were swimming with the turtles in Costa Rica, Christmas was the last thing on my mind. Quite frankly it did not exist. This year was the opposite. My spirit was back and I was ready for whatever came to me emotionally and interestingly enough physically. I invited r.a.w. over to share our daughter's joy on Christmas morning. We planned on it for weeks. Half of my family lives in northern b.c. My mom (like an angel), Ty, and I boycotted Christmas up there this year so that Ryan could have a chance to see Luca on the special day. My mom spend the morning by herself instead of waking up with Luca so that she wouldn't make r.a.w. feel any sort of uncomfortableness. We had planned on meeting her in the afternoon for brunch. We woke up to a living room full of presents from Santa, it was so magical. We moved very slowly in hopes that r.a.w. would soon arrive to join in on the magic. Text after text and no reply. Nothing. No call. No text. No knock on the door. He. just. never. showed. up. (My palms are so sweaty writing this.) If I have a stroke someday I guess you'll all know who to blame. Trying to pull myself together, I called my mom and told her about the no show. You know when you chin starts to go and you can't stop it and the maj cry is about to explode through your blood cells? This is what was happening to me on this supposed to be "oh so magical day." Once again he ruined something. For the 6 billionth time he ruined everything. Thankfully Luca is too young to really understand that her father slept in till 1:00 p.m. on Christmas day instead of spending it with her. Soon enough it will be her calling to tell him he is a piece of dog shit. Maybe when that day comes, he'll actually start to believe it and change it.
"What are you talking about Jenna, my phone died, stop being so mean." "YOUR PHONE DIED? GO EAT SHIT." The "phone died" excuse is laughable at this point. Get a new phone, get a new life, get a new brain you dumb-ass. I thought it couldn't be possible to feel a hurt stronger than the hurt I felt when he left me for another woman. Oh was I wrong. The hurt of him not showing up on Christmas morning for his daughter is a kind of hurt that I never knew existed in my bones. It's the throwing up feeling. It's the I want to run my foot over with a lawn mower feeling. It's the I am going to break into his house at night and light his head on fire with a blow torch "Home Alone" stylez.
Whoah- I just held my breath for that whole paragraph. -So dizzy.
We packed our things and headed for brunch with my grandma, brother, and mom. I couldn't stop drinking champagne. Seeing my mom rescued my drowning feelings a bit, but I still felt terrible. We went back to my her cabin, opened more presents, and had a wonderful dinner with some close point bob friends.
The events that happened later that peculiar Christmas night, completely healed all the terrible feelings that r.a.w. had given me earlier that day. I would like to thank the person whom was involved with what happened that that night, too bad I can't. Nor can I write about it.
At least I am refreshed and ready to start a New Year. 

Obsessed with this lipstick at the mo. Ruby Woo by MAC.

I wonder where this girl gets her drama from?



  1. Wow. So, yeah. I don't know r.a.w but from what you have wrote that is a real dickhead move to sleep in and miss your little girls Christmas morning. Come on!

    1. definitely is a dick-head move. Good guy and good dad, but makes poor decisions. Why is it that you are the only one that is able to leave comments? I have been having real problems with the comment section. Has that ever happened to you?