Rainbows & sunshine, I am not tonight.
I'm a planner...like waaay in advance planner. It makes me feel good to plan far in advance. So I'm already mentally preparing from Blair's first birthday.
Yes, he's 8 months old.
And suddenly...I'm pissed.
I'm going to have a get together with people less than 2 weeks after Joel's death/birth date. Most of which are people who still pretend he didn't existed. And even when I'm able to swallow that (because I plan on shoving it down their fucking throats that he fucked existed, so take that assholes who may be uncomfortable with it)...& even when I'm happy & grateful with my truely gorgeous Blair...I'm sad.
Like...run over me with a train sad.
I feel weird admitting this because, I'm sure in some fucked up way it means I kinda wish Blair didn't happen, because let's face it, if Joel hadn't died Blair wouldn't be around, but goddammit I shouldn't be planning a 1st birthday party.
Again, don't get me wrong, I'm happy that I do & I love Blair oodles & oodles. I know there are others out there who would love to plan a birthday party for a living, breathing baby.
But, again, goddammit. I should be planning Joel's 2nd birthday party.
I shouldn't be carrying around a baby. I should be trying to keep up with 2 boys running around with each other & driving us nuts.
I shouldn't be buying baby food. I should be trying to get an almost 2 year old to eat more than Mac & Cheese 6 times a day.
I shouldn't be waiting for a baby to take steps. I should be waiting to hear a almost 2 year old to tell me some insane story about dinosaurs living upstairs in our house.
But I'm not. I have a baby. And I'm thrilled with him. But that can't fix the other stuff. He can't fix that stuff, & it's not fair for me to ever think it could. I never thought that'd be the case.
I'm sad over someone who didn't exist, not in the ways that matter at least. Know what I have to prove he existed? Some dead baby pictures, a small corner shelf of random stuff, & stretch marks. And I'm not even sure which are from him. I have no way of knowing what the fuck he would have been like, looked like, or even sounded like. I can only make it up in my head & I have no idea where to even start.
Yep, I'm a bitter, unappreciative person. It's my prerogative.