Do you know what is sad? I HAVE NO SECRETS I HAVEN'T SHARED ON HERE OR ON MY BLOG BEFORE NOW.
I wish DD didn't look like her biological birth father. I HATE that she looks like him. Especially the thick eyebrows. Can you pluck a 2 year old's eye brows? Wax them, maybe???? She's my daughter. Honestly, he's had very little to do with her, ever...
Hello, Toddler's and Tiaras, can you suggest to me any good beauticians for my little girl? I need to permantly remove hair from my daughter's face for aesthetic reasons..
Seriously. If I knew a way it wouldn't hurt her, I'd remove those mofo eyebrows.
I fantasied about smothering DD around 6- 8 months with a pillow, and thinking I could get away with it because everyone would think it was SIDS.
I've covered this story in other threads, but I was in a very unhappy relationship. I see women here complain their husbands are emotionally unavailable, and I want to snort. (That's another confession.) You think he's emotionally unavailable for THAT lame reason? The ex never wanted to do bed room stuff with me after DD was born. He didn't see the point in saying hello to me. He never hugged me, touched me, offered me love or comfort. He could happily go days without talking to me, because he felt no need to. On a weekend, I'd wake and he'd be watching tv/ playing computer games/ playing playstation. He would do this all weekend, without talking to me, without interacting with DD.
I told him three times I wanted to kill our DD- once in writing, twice while hysterical in tears, and he ignored me.
After we broke up, I discovered some interesting things because he never changed his facebook password. Hell, I still log on to keep an eye on him! (Anyone else?) Anyways, I discovered:
1) He likes putting cucumbers up his bum for sexual gratification. (Actually discovered this while packing up the house with my bestie.)
2) he had a threesome where the woman put a strap on on and did him...
3) he did the deed with a man.
4) Also, normal hetrosexual stuff with women he found online.
All within a month of us breaking up. Feral with rage.
I wish he would die on deployment in Afghanistan so I never had to see him again. I'd rather tell my daughter her daddy died a hero and is watching her from heaven, then um and err when she asks where he daddy is now, because he mostly doesn't bother to visit her. On one hand, I'm kinda glad. It means I can move on with our lives. On the other hand, I'm outraged for DD that her father can discard her like that.
DD has made me less fearful. Once, I could never admit I was depressed. I could never admit the dark spots in my soul. But once I had her... I want to kill myself, I wasn't worthy of the honour of being her mother. She deserved better than the wreck that I was. I shouldn't scream at this little baby. I should not resent her, I should not dislike her. it's not falling off the cliff that is hard, it's climbing back to the top with broken legs... But giving words to the ugly hidden parts... it's like they evaporated.
I'm not scared of swimming along the current and I'm more proactive.
Today I am the happiest I've ever been. It's weird, but there is no way I could have gotten here without the bad spots with DD. I don't remember a lot of her first year. Neither does she. I suppose we are both grateful. But because of her, and the lessons I've learnt, I think I've become a better person.... aw hell, I KNOW I'm better! less selfish. More loving. More affectionate. I gained 20kgs and lost the ability to wear a bikini... but I've never been more confidant. Not the brass confidence of 18 years old and wearing a tiny skirt and sky high heels down the street, with loads of alcohol surging through my veins, while men turn to admire my long, slim legs... now those legs have spider veins (ALREADY I AM TOO YOUNG FOR THIS SURELY) cellulite, and they're lesbian-grade hairy. I have more lines from stretch marks than the pacific high way has lines.
But I'm ok. I'm happy. I have the quiet confidance now that I'm ok in my own skin, even if I don't show that skin off. I sing all the time around the house and fearlessly in the car.