NEVER. AGAIN.

Aaron and I got to have a night out the other night, FINALLY!  It had been a year since we'd been out together so we were pretty excited.  But let me tell you, it was SO NOT WORTH IT.  I mean, getting some time together was absolutely worth it, but next time it will be dinner and a movie, NOT getting stranded with drunk retards.

Aaron got in touch with a friend of his from when he was a kid, and he invited us over to his place for a few drinks. 
His sister remembered Aaron: "Oh yeah, you're the one who used to eat rocks!"

So the two of us went to this place where we thought there was a lounge, but turns out it closed down, so we sat in the restaurant and shared a pizza and some beers.  We did shots of something disgusting and sweet.  And that was the end of that for me, I was drunk by seven thirty. 
So we then get picked up by Aaron's old childhood friend and his girlfriend, and were informed we were going to a benefit dance for this guy who died. In my head, I had planned to be home by nine.  HAH. Once I heard the "doof doof" music blasting in the car, I started to have an uneasy feeling about the night.

The rest of the night was kind of fun, a blurry night complete with hammered guy who pissed his pants and had to get picked up by his mother, two-stepping with Aaron to "Sweet City Woman" (just like in the pre-baby days!), trying to escape being innapropriately groped by the drug-mangled Childhood Friend AND his equally mangled girlfriend, then getting stranded at a convenience store where drug-mangled Childhood Friend tried to order drinks with a hundred dollar bill, and then lying down outside on the concrete while getting yelled at by his girlfriend.  The cabs refused to pick us up because of this guy.  This is where I start to get pissed off.  My fun ended around nine-thirty when my boobs sprung a leak at the very thought of my precious baby boy at home, probably refusing a bottle and being a nightmare for his grandparents...
I really wanted to go home.  Finally a cab picked us up, but rather than taking us back to our town, to HOME, we ended up IN ANOTHER TOWN at some other bar.  This is where I put my foot down.  Literally, I stomped my foot and crossed my arms and refused to go in the bar.  Finally someone lent us twenty bucks to get a cab home.

We got home at two.  Angus was draped over grandma's shoulder, and they were sitting in the rocking chair in the dark.  I had missed him so much!  My heart broke because all I wanted to do was reunite with him and nurse him but I couldn't because I had been drinking.  We were told he WOULD NOT take a bottle.  (He did however, take rice cereal, from a spoon earlier that evening.)
All through the night, he refused the bottle, and I had to rock him back to sleep when he woke up.  My boobs were the size of watermelons and as hard as boulders, and FUCKING PAINFUL, and periodically I had to get up and express milk into the sink, hating and cursing myself every time, for making me and Angus suffer.

I got up with Angus that morning and still didn't feel safe breastfeeding... I mentally calculated how many drinks I'd had and figured I could nurse him by about ten. 
He was mouthing the air and head-butting my shoulder and anytime anything brushed his lips he LUNGED.  He was STARVING.  God I felt awful.  I tried to give him a bottle again, but he'd had enough of that... he was fed up with having a rubbery nipple shoved in his mouth all night, so he got rice cereal again.  He was practically feeding himself he was so hungry, squawking and grabbing the spoon out of my hand.

By nine-thirty, I gave in and nursed him, and both of us were finally soooooo relieved. 

This experience made me realize how precious our nursing relationship is.  I realized that it is not just a source of food for Angus, it is a way of emotionally connecting, a way of feeling safe, and the ultimate comfort for my little guy.  I will never jeapordize that again.

It also made me realize the kind of idiotic, drunken behavior and immature people I want to stay away from.  This is a new start for us, and a clean slate for us to make our life how WE want it.  I've had enough hangovers in my life already!
These people we were with all had kids too, but they were all behaving like teenage buffoons.  I guess having kids doesn't always make one grow up. 
Having a baby sure has made me appreciate the simpler things in life, as well as giving me a feeling of purpose and satisfaction.  The other night, while swaying with a beer in my hand and dodging drunken advances form strangers, a light bulb went off in my head, in the form of Angus's face.  I suddenly realized that I was NEEDED by someone.  Someone's happiness and healthiness depends on ME! 

I guess sometimes we need an experience that that to make us realize what we DON'T want.  Aaron and I were so desperate for some time together, and we did actually have fun for a while.  But I think going to see a movie together is much more appealing to me now!  Angus has made it clear that he'd rather starve himself than go without boob, so I'm going to listen to him from now on.  After all, he IS the boss of me.

Allllll byyyy myseeeeeeelf.... don't wanna be... ALL BY MYSELF....

I'm all alone!  How rare, in a house of seven people.  Except for Angus of course, but he's a part of me anyway.

I've been waiting for this moment, so I could have a chance to write in peace and quiet.  But now everyone is gone, my mind has gone blank and I feel restless and bored.

Something is holding me back from my writing - the knowledge that people I know and love, read this thing.  Therefore, I cannot be completely honest and tell awesome stories because I don't want to hurt anyones feelings.  Also there are certain things I don't want people to know about ME.  But I've learned that THE TRUTH often makes for the best and most humorous writing.

It's frustrating me.  I can't decide if I want my family and friends to hate me in return for readable material, or protect the innocent and keep my writing dry and boring. 
I really want to write about how my dad offered Aaron a tab of acid while we were visiting (which he turned down), and I really want to write about finding roaches in my mom's freezer (not her's).  It's too bad I give a shit about people's feelings.  

Well Angus is not letting me write anyway.  These babies, they sure need a lot of attention.  Angus is now so used to having people around now, he's not happy about beig plunked next to the kitty litter box so I can ignore him and play on the computer.

I'm baaaaaaaaack!

Well I've probably lost a lot of readers now since I haven't updated in a month. But, we have been busy, travelling all over BC and then flying across the country to Nova Scotia.


This morning I was awake early because Angus was wide awake and thrashing around in the bed beside me. I draped him over my hip to see if he needed to burp, which he did, then let out the squirtiest, noisiest, stinkiest poop, and then grinned at me. I just couldn't ignore him anymore. But there's no better time to write than in the morning, when the house is quiet. (I got Angus back to sleep, but not myself.)



There are seven of us crammed into a house that's under renovation. The other house, which Aaron and Angus and I will move into upstairs, and gramma and grampy will move into downstairs, is also under renovations. The house we are in now used to be Aaron's grandma's house, and his sister and her boyfriend will live in the downstairs and the upstairs is being made into an apartment to be rented out. (whew!) So for now, the seven of us are dancing around each other trying to stay out of everyone's way. I'd say it's working out pretty well actually. Nobody has chewed anyone's head off yet, and everyone seems to be taking their turn for making dinner and cleaning up.

(I wrote the above post four days ago, and now I'm returning to attempt to finish it.)

*groooooooooan* Another sleepless night due to my greedy Gus being attached to the boob all night. There's something about the noise of Angus suckling that drives Aaron up the wall... so I was lying awake, frustrated, with my cling-on firmly attached, unable to get comfortable, when I heard a fist thunk into a pillow, and then a muffled, "FUUUUUCK!" followed by a groan, and then, "I hate babies."
(Of course he didn't mean it, he loves babies, but Angus has been an absolute little shit at nighttime since we moved.)

So we're both up at an ongodly hour, after ANOTHER sleepless night. Once we get moved into our new place, Angus is going in a CRIB, in a ROOM, with the door locked, and mommy and daddy will have ear plugs in so we can get some SLEEP.

I want to share a few things about Nova Scotia that I didn't know before, but I know now.

One. People are UNBELIEVABLY friendly here. I mean, I knew that before, East Coasters have a glowing reputation for being friendly, but to actually experience it is something else. Their friendliness almost borders on irritatingly invasive sometimes. I've learned to not make eye contact if I'm not in the mood for chit chat.
And the friendliness goes further... the drivers here are so COURTEOUS! A big difference from Nelson's stoned hippies appearing out of nowhere and plodding across the street, and ignorant yuppies who pull out without looking. Here, people stop and let you go through... even if YOU'RE the one with the stop sign, and they have the right of way. Unbelievable.

Two. The weather is strange. The sun is blistering hot, but as soon as that Atlantic wind starts blowing, you're teeth are chattering. I'm forever stripping off clothes, and swearing under my breath as I put them back on five minutes later.

Three. The houses here are all very big and very old and have at least two stories. People seem to take care of their houses.

Four. The skies. ENDLESS, beautiful, glorious skies, and stunning sunsets.

Five. The house we are living in has a graveyard on one side, and a tank on the other side. So don't be messing with us, or you'll have the un-dead after your ass in a TANK!

That is all. I will try to remain more consistent from now on, that is if I haven't completely lost all my readers.