Because Tina Fey expressed my concerns for my child in a way I cannot.  I love her more than I can say and thank anyone who's listening for giving her to me. 

"First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches. May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with beer. Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers. Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait. O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a *** in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that ***. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes. Amen.” From "Bossypants"

Remembering

9-11.  The day my generation will remember exactly what they were doing.  Most of us planted in front of a TV, waiting for more news. Calling loved ones.  I slept through the whole thing.  It was a Tuesday, my late class day.  My roommate didn't have class until 11 either, so we slept.  By the time we woke up, everything was different. IM's telling K. what happened, people telling me in the hall.  Both of us thinking some one was playing a horrible joke or watching a bad movie.  It sounded like a Michael Bay plot to me.  Then it sunk in, my dorm neighbor's dad worked at the Pentagon.  She couldn't get a hold of her family because too many calls were flooding the lines.  He was okay, but the worry and panic-brought the East Coast troubles a little closer to home. Everything did seem so much farther away that day.  I thought of my cousin and my friend, who were both in the Army.  What was going to happen to them?
And now as 10 years have passed-the people I've met and the stories they told, brought everything even closer to me.  I was a nanny for a year for a couple who worked at the Pentagon when Rumsfeld was the SoD.  They introduced me to someone who should have been there on 9-11.  Possibly close to where the plane hit, but something kept him home.  Friends who were in New York that day, friends who were on a ship in the Pacific.  Everyone was so effected by this that no matter how far away you were from the actual crashes-you weren't really that far.  To the thousands who lost their lives, to the millions whose lives were affected--we will never forget you.  Namaste.

Letter to no one

I know you're not going to read this.  You left as fast as you came. Didn't matter who you took out in your wake, but you knew you didn't want to stay.  I'm writing this-not because I want you back-but because for the first time in almost two years, I didn't get hurt by your memory.   I listened to our song on the radio on the way home and didn't cry.  I didn't let myself change the station-because normally the band that played that song is too painful to hear as well.  But I made it through, and realized it wasn't ever "our song".  You were never in this relationship like I was-I don't know if it was a game-or a challenge to you, but I finally reached the point where I'm no longer hurt by our memories.  And I did something I never thought I was going to do--I talked to the guy in town you hated.  And guess what?  Now he's my friend.  I don't think you've ever had a "friend" that you couldn't get something out of.  And when they're used up - it's treat them like shit until they make you get out of their life.  That way it's not your fault.  You get to stay the victim.  Lord knows you've been playing one the whole time you were with me. . ."Oh, ex-girlfriend was so mean." "Oh, my car" "Oh, my old roommate is a crazy jerk, look what everyone is doing to me"  STOP! Look what you're doing to everyone else! You try to be the victim, because you set yourself up to be it. 
So, good bye to you. I deserve so much better.

Memory fail

I've always held the belief that everything happens for a reason.  That people are meant to be in your life, things are meant to happen; all to make us better people as we make our way through life.  I don't know if it's the sting of hurt that is clouding my judgement or not, but I don't see any good reason for B. I didn't learn anything new about myself.  He didn't change my world for the better. It's the first time I've ever honestly wished I could erase all those memories.  Every time I think of something good that we did or shared--it's tainted by the hurt and anger that I feel now.  Music - something I love - has been hijacked by the fact that it was something I shared with him.  I can't listen to most of my favorite music without a memory being brought to the forefront.  I know it's good that we're not talking, but that hurts too.  We talked for so long-almost 2 years, almost every day.  I just need some good juju back in my life to clear the hurt.  It doesn't help that my daughter is with her dad.  She has always been such a light in my life, keeps me calm and happy.   

Been a long time. . .

Trying to get my head on straight.  Most things are going really well, schools almost done. Getting work part of my life on a better level.  My little girl isn't so little anymore.  She's become a little girl-talking, just growing everyday. 
I finally got rid of B. in my life.  Even after he left us last year-we still talked.  Stayed friends, still cheering each other on. But when he decided to move back to the area and go to school in Colorado, he tested my friendship limits.  I realized he lied to me every chance he got.  Left a girlfriend in Ohio, but still came up and used me for what ever twisted reason he had.  I know now it wasn't love or friendship.  I don't know what compels people to treat people the way they do. 
I know one day I'll find the last piece of my family puzzle.  But I need to feel like I deserve it before he shows up. 

Break on through to the other side

Very excited.  After some tumultuous times with my daughters other family, we finally had a sit down talk like respecting adults.  I've been saying for months, years even-since I knew I wasn't going to be with the dad while I was pregnant, that I wanted my daughter to have a relationship with that side of her family.  But they've been treating me like I'm this evil person.  I found out why, my ex's dad had another family-an ex-wife and daughter that he's barely seen.  And I unfortunately got lumped into the "league of evil exes" because of it.
But after yet another screaming match with my ex, I drove over to his parents house, and got into it with his dad. But one thing that my ex did NOT get from his dad-is the power to calm down and have a rational adult conversation.  But after having that with his parents, his mom came in afterward, I can see a light at the end of this tunnel. I'll be very excited when I can start posting more positive things!  Just that 30 minutes with his parents gave me hope for a better time dealing with her dad.

Just go away. . . if it were only that easy

One of these days, I'm going to be happy. Everything is going to work and my daughter's dad and I will start to act like adults for our daughters sake. 
But apparently that time is not now.  This weekend is just a blur of missed communication and screaming (all him) and I don't know what else I can do beside keep asking for some kind of meeting with a neutral party.  But, that's not going to happen either.  I don't want to get mean, I want my girl to know her dad but I also want to be treated with respect.
One day. . .