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Emotionally Homegrown

[ The Details | Look and See ]
[ My Warehouse | Dusty Musties ]

(no subject) [Sep. 30th, 2008|06:42 pm]
Emotionally Homegrown
The calves are being weaned on the ranch.

It is a sad and disturbing sound.
Link5 Helped a brotha out.|Spit up.

(no subject) [Jun. 30th, 2008|08:31 pm]
Emotionally Homegrown
we went forth..we multiplied....we committed and emitted. and now she's at the end of her rope...no longer one being...the milk keeps us one.

he is not ready to seperate just yet.
Link4 Helped a brotha out.|Spit up.

(no subject) [Jun. 23rd, 2008|09:10 am]
Emotionally Homegrown

I woke up in the middle of the night to Osro crying for more milk, more milk...I am at my wits end trying to get rest....I state in a sob "I can't do this anymore!" I kneel beside the bed, hang my head, and I just cry....He has soaked through another diaper and has been lying in a swamp of his own urine for god knows how long, my side is also drenched with his piss and everything is sweaty...I feel like shit. To say the least, utter shit. We both wail together as I carry him to his crib which has been dubbed changing station. I go about changing him through my tears, my left breast leaking all over everything, dripping to the floor, down the wooden sides of the crib, weeping down my abdomen, I can hardly tell the tears from the milk. Osro is squirming and squirming, the little worm that he is, so upset, so hungry and wet...With every movement he makes my frustration raises, we both cry louder and louder, "Stop moving! Please, stop moving!!" At this point Paul rises from his corner of the bed telling me to breath, to stop and just breath. Obviously I'm breathing, but I can't breath like he means...I just moan and cry louder and louder..He gets up and comes over, he squeezes me, as if trying to snuff me out, he's angry and tells me he can't handle this. I push him away in disgust. I go to the linen closet and grab a towel to place on the bed, "Oh fuck you fuck you I hate you...Fuck you." he can't handle this?? HE who was up all night playing poker, not feeding a baby...he who sleeps in everyday until 1 while I am changing diapers, feeding, soothing, cooing....trying at the same time to fill my stomache and keep clean...After places a couplke towels on the bed where Baby O and I will rest I go over to Paul who is now holding the babe, I reach my hands out [still crying] to grab him, and Paul turns away. I want to slap him at this point...turning like that, like he needs to defend and protect his baby from me. But instead I turn away and go back to bed waiting for him to give up and realize that at this point O's cries will not stop till he has a breast in his mouth.

Now I must state that Osro is a very tame baby..I mean he is not fussy at all...he only cries when he's hungry, cold or has leaked through a diaper and is soaking wet...but he is ALWAYS hungry which means I get little sleep always having to stay awake through each feeding to be sure he doesn't suffocate against my breast...and Paul does change diapers when he's awake....he is more supportive than any other young dad I know don't get me wrong....but fuck. It just really makes me angry that he would say such a thing...act such a way...

Transition is a bitch, and I can't stop crying.
Link5 Helped a brotha out.|Spit up.

JUST NOW.. [Jun. 20th, 2008|05:49 pm]
Emotionally Homegrown
[Sitting Like |home]
[Sounds Like |faithless the wonder boy-radiohead]

Link3 Helped a brotha out.|Spit up.

hello in there [Jun. 20th, 2008|04:54 pm]
Emotionally Homegrown
[Sitting Like |home]
[Feels Like |indescribable]
[Sounds Like |a kind of magic-queen]

its warm in here...

the musik is all wrong.

i have a tiny little person resting peacefully on my yellow sweat pants-ed lap...he stares at what seems like nothing with the most intentful, intrigued gaze. i worry about heat rashed arms and swollen baby nipples...about sneezes, leaky diapers, long finger nails and and and....

and i am right where ive always wanted to be.

i am sore in very delicate places, i am weepy, and hot flashed. a piece of me is traumatized other parts just bruised. i soak in salt water to soothe the stitches.

they call this baby blues.
Link2 Helped a brotha out.|Spit up.

(no subject) [Feb. 3rd, 2008|09:13 am]
Emotionally Homegrown
[Feels Like |accomplished fish]

And then, these are what I've been up to all mornings....Collapse )
Link1 comment|Spit up.

(no subject) [Jan. 25th, 2008|01:09 am]
Emotionally Homegrown
My only response to Wendy's plead for statements on loneliness:

(Photo found randomly, not taken by me...)

I cannot explain this loneliness...

I am so lost in it I am too far from creative description,
so lost in it I am too far from my feelings,
my mind
my natural diction..

Link2 Helped a brotha out.|Spit up.

(no subject) [Jan. 13th, 2008|04:57 am]
Emotionally Homegrown
I just woke up from one of the worstest dreams EVER.Collapse )
Link1 comment|Spit up.

(no subject) [Jan. 12th, 2008|07:51 am]
Emotionally Homegrown
Take a Walk Around the Block...

...and maybe on the wild side.

Osmosis and I walked around the block. The sky was dark, the snow melted, the chill just pleasant enough to bring upon a smile...all this and the aroma of burning wood combined ever so delicately to remind me sweetly of New Mexico. I hope one day I can live there again.

Again I am tickled by all the different nooks and crannies of the neighborhood and the rushing plethora of ambiance. I love walking at the wee hours of the morning, when no one is up, and no one is out...The world is mine, and I can let Mosis poop on the lawns without fear. I am going to try and walk every morning at five, a little longer everyday. Until I am walking to New Mexico and back.

Back to the feelings and memories this hood does bring up; there is a lot and a house on Campau I just love. It's not that I actually even like the landscape, or the design of the house, and there are tacky reindeer ornaments in the front lawn, one knocked over on its side....But the lighting, and the energy that eminate from it are so familiar. It reminds me of fourth grade, and I cannot place why. Somehow it maintains the same feeling and same orange lighting no matter what time of day, no matter what time of year...This morning I really just wanted to pop a squat under the street light and bask in the limbo-like essence it has...go back in time for a minute or five....
Link1 comment|Spit up.

(no subject) [Jan. 11th, 2008|08:39 am]
Emotionally Homegrown

[This is like my very favorite....]

Link1 comment|Spit up.

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