Two Loves

The emotional roller coaster has persevered. I was once so even keeled. I keep myself that way because I know what lurks inside my placid shell. But here I am, living and exploring everything in here. Drinking beers all afternoon to keep me from exploding.

Being Ramona’s mother has been the biggest privilege of my life. I love her so much it makes me cry sometimes. I am in love. Only the second time in my life. Over the last couple days things have gotten really hard. When she is complaining or trying to get her way, I have found myself wanting to do things and say things I am ashamed to admit. For the first time in my life I want a break from being a mom. I want a week off. I want to explore and groove alone. I don’t want to have a kid to take care of. I just want to be all about me and what I want. I thought it might happen, that I feel like this one day, but I hate the way it feels to want to escape my own child. I have always loved how we are a team and have generally always had such a good time together, talking things out, keeping our heads, keeping respect…not like those other families. Last night, after I turned off the lights to sleep, I told Ramona I was sorry I haven’t been the best mom, that I am just stressed. She said, “I know you’re stressed, mommy.” In such a sweet understanding voice. I feel so lucky to have her, just hours after wanting to throw her out with the trash. I snuggled the little cutey. Emotional roller coaster.
Of course I can’t take a week off. Today, thank goodness, I do get to take a day off. I think I will be getting to take a night off as well. We are preparing to try having Ramona take her first night without me, at my mom’s house. I am going to the next town over for a show. I hope to stay out past 10:30 for the first time in 5 years.

Oh and speaking of 5 years, I haven’t even told the world I lost my mama virginity yet. (I love the benefits of a semi-anonymous blog). He had been flirting with me and trying to hang for a couple months. Then I saw him last week and he started playing with my hands when suddenly he says, “Oh, wow.” And looks at me surprised. And to my surprise I realize that I had grabbed his hands, and was holding them and stroking them. I just went with it. That night he came over after I put Ramona to sleep. My housemates were out of town leaving their bedrooms open to exploration. The next night we did it again, and the next. Then I realized I may already be over him. He’s 24. I think he grew up on porn. I feel like if I keep hanging with him, I might wake up trapped in some weird fetish porn and wonder how I got there. And I guess I think he is cute, but he isn’t really my type. Like there isn’t enough desire in me to propel me to do the things II know he wants me to do. So I am a little turned off for him, but the experience has just made me hungrier for whatever this is that my sensual core is aching for.

After five years of nothing, what more could I ask for than a sex-crazed 24 year old? I guess my job is to figure that out. He didn’t quench my thirst, but stroked the fire. Opened Pandora’s box unleashing all sorts of chaos on the world. I want enough girlfriends and boyfriends to make up for the 5 years of starvation. I’ve never been into multiple sexual relationships, but I wonder if I am now. I am realizing crushes I have had that I didn’t know about. This is why I was hesitant to get involved in the world of romance. I knew what was brewing just under my placid shell.

I met a guy named Ryan over a year ago, when he approached me I totally screwed up and he left without me and I regretted it all year. He was like a magnet, and we had been catching each other looking at each other all afternoon. . I emailed a friend of his to tell him I want to talk to him (since I don’t know how else to get a hold of him). I was too shy to do it last year. A little loving can do wonders for a woman’s confidence. Still waiting for the response.
So do I tell my guy that I am done? Or am I done? I guess I am not sure. I like him, but if I don’t even want to kiss him outside of the bedroom, I think that says something. But if I am using him, then it is mutual I think.

And all the while this is happening, the number of days until I have to move are ticking, ticking. Nerve Wracking. Three weeks left. And Petaluma is prejudice against people receiving rental assistance. I am really afraid. Running around frantically trying to not remember that I don’t have a place to live yet. And my housemates weird, Marin, middle-class, nuclear culture is really making me uncomfortable and miserable. But that is another story that isn’t about love…not really.

I want to run around, I want to get crazy, liberate myself. Fix all this love stuff. Think I will go crack a beer and feel selfish for a while.