The weather was superb on Wednesday so I decided to load up the stroller, slather on some sunblock, put on my giant blue hat, and walk to Willa’s music class. She starts actual preschool in a few weeks so we’re wrapping up with all of the classes she’s been taking since she was barely crawling. Crazy! Crazy how fast life is going by, crazy how she’s already her own person with her own strong personality, crazy how I love hanging out with her in a way I never thought I would. Some nights the two of us are having so much fun hanging out I let her go to bed past her bedtime. Quite a departure from the days when I counted the seconds till 7pm so I could finally have some time to breathe alone. Look, I’ve always been completely in love obsessed with the kid, but it’s different now. We’re buds. I love taking her to try cuisines from different cultures. She’ll eat anything and loves strong flavors. We bring different friends to the zoo each week with our pass and give the A & W LA Zoo tour to our peeps. We have the same hair, the same eyes, the same laugh, and the same sense of humor. We look at each other and crack up.
Do I sound like I’m talking about my new lover???
Is this weird?
Once every week or so I take her out of her crib and bring her into my bed when I go to sleep. The other night she woke up in my bed at 3am and said, “Mommy, lets snuggle.” So I spooned her all night.
Is this weird??
Perhaps it’s because I’ve come to the realization that I won’t be having anymore babies so I’m pouring every shred of love into this kid? I finally gave away the last of my baby/pregnancy stuff. The “high ticket items” that I was holding onto just in case I met the man of my dreams and get knocked up again. Breast pump, fancy bassinet stroller, etc. Gone. Gave away to a couple I know from work who loaded up their Chevy Volt with all of my hopes and dreams of another baby to love.
Ok, ok, I’m just being dramatic. It wasn’t a sad exchange at all, and I came to this decision around the same time I decided I want to be single forever. You see, I love being single now. I’ve always had some dude in my life and 95% of the time that dude has disappointed me. (The dude who was the 5% literally haunts me in my dreams. I dream we’re back in Hawaii getting massages on the beach for my birthday…The most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me. He never wanted kids so we broke up. Anyway…) I love not having the anxiety of worrying if someone is cheating on me, has fallen out of love with me, or if I’m in a new relationship, that gross feeling of, “why isn’t he calling me back??” I don’t miss this and I really never want to feel it again. I have my ex-husband, the gift who keeps on giving, where every six months or so I can look forward to him giving me some shitty news that makes my heart beat in my ears. Any fleeting feeling of butterflies from seeing my new crush, any possible orgasms, fun dates, romance, pure love, etcetera, is not desirable to me anymore because of the possible pain it can cause when it implodes as it always does for me. I have no qualms about this, truly. I’ve worked hard for this sanity, and it’s still not completely there, as you will soon learn from this story about our walk home from music class in Beverly Hills on Wednesday.
Music class was great. Willa’s in the stroller, I’m in my big blue hat, and we’re jamming to the Persian restaurant to pick up food, as we do on many of my days off from work. We’re almost home and I receive a text from a 323 area code that I’ve never seen reading,
“Mr. Rabbit Mr. Rabbit your hat is very cute”
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON?
Afkah’s back with Pathy and she’s going to kill me so they can raise Willa as their own, as Pathy had always planned since she first blew him in her car.
(Afkah stands for Artist Formerly Known As Husband and Pathy stands for “Pathetic Loser” if this is your first time reading.)
I run the stroller into the back of someone’s apartment building and call Afkah immediately.
“WHO IS FOLLOWING ME??? WHOSE NUMBER IS THIS? SOMEONE IS WATCHING ME, FUCKING WITH ME, AND COMMENTING ON MY HAT!”
Afkah tells me to relax and tell him the number. He swears he doesn’t know it and I tell him he’d better call it now to see who it was or the police would. I continue to hide and wait for him to call me back.
He tells me he reached the voicemail of someone named Siree.
Siree is Willa’s music teacher and I left Willa’s hat in the class so she was letting me know.
So yes, life is generally zen, but I do have these flare-ups of psychosis and have sweet Afkah to blame.
I have a steady stream of clients which has been great and quite helpful since Afkah took me back to mediation to finalize our settlement. He must be living his best life with the money he’ll be saving.
Good for him! I could give two shits.
I did freak the fuck out when he threatened to fight me for a percentage of “physical custody.” Right now I have one hundred percent full physical custody. It’s important for me to know exactly where Willa is sleeping every night and that no crazy whore is putting her to bed. Sorry, Afkah, you didn’t really even want a baby and now I have to share her with you and whoever your flavor of the month is? Another lunatic who threatens to “kick my ass?” Nope! Not happening. Look, he’s a great dad, and that’s one thing that scares me. His girlfriend will realize that he’ll never love her the way he loves Willa and never treat her like he treats Willa. She becomes jealous and starts to chisel away at Willa’s self-esteem to make up for her jealousy. Or worse!
I also had to sit-down for fear of fainting when I saw Pathy’s trainer at MY GYM! My client said the color drained from my face and he made me approach the guy to make sure Pathy wasn’t going to be coming there. I LOVE my gym and have had zero drama there so seeing Pathy’s trainer threw me for a sick loop. The trainer assured me Pathy would be nowhere near me or this gym.
I swear there is more to my life than this shit!
And I’m sorry I haven’t written in such a goodly long while.
I’m so boring in the best way.
I work, hang out with my kid, my friends, and eat dessert in front of the TV every night.
I adore every single client I have and look forward to spending an hour with them.
This past year my friend Jess told me I was going to a “meeting” which was actually an audition, where I was matched with a bunch of other dope moms to see who had chemistry to host an online show called “45 Minutes to Brunch.” The producers liked me and my story so myself and the three other moms they picked filmed six episodes. It was a delightful experience and they paid me quite generously to shoot the shit with some new girlfriends. The title was changed to “Not Safe For Brunch” and was “not picked up” for any more episodes. I really loved it though and am still dear friends with the other girls and now their families too.
My hair is a giant Afro. And I think it’s rad. Willa is following in my footsteps so she sits patiently while I spray down her hair and comb it through every morning so her curls are defined and perfect. My own mom is my idol with everything EXCEPT her lack of knowledge on how to care for curls. Mine were brushed out dry leaving a frizzy mullet that wouldn’t even fit into the frame of pictures. I spent years burning the curl out of it and am hopeful Willa won’t want to do that. Speaking of my mom, she and my dad are still Willa’s main babysitters and her favorite humans. I love and appreciate my parents in a way that I’m sure they wish I did when I was in high school. My sis and parents help Afkah and I so much it’s incredible.
I mean, I feel like I should catch you up on the year in my life but I’m afraid it’s mostly mundane shit like talking about my hair and new Buick which really isn’t blog-worthy.
But the rabbit story had to be shared.
Photo is from Legoland where I was also wearing the big blue hat.
Just like in the old days, I’ll say:
Thank you so much for reading!