I haven't written here in more than seven years.  What's funny is if you'd asked me I'd have said it was 10 years ago, a thousand.  I can't believe I was ever a "mommy blogger," but it was such a huge part of my little life back then.  It was my life preserver in a life where I was invisible, discounted, and disliked.  Who was I back then? 

Ignored, neglected, sad, looking for something.  I didn't even know I was beautiful or sexy.  Turns out some people think that.

I can understand why I faltered and stepped away from this space.  What was I going to write about exactly? 

How my ex-husband's loving and sweet face morphed into one of seething, writhing disdain?  Pure rage at what he perceived as entitlement at my need for child support?  Or how he  made a series of decisions that irrevocably destroyed our post-marriage relationship and despite me fighting mightily to save it because he wasn't capable  it all went to shit and now my little baby -- "Rooster" as my ex insisted I rename him for this blog -- suffers on a bi-weekly basis. 

Or arguably, every week. 

Life is fucking hard, but one thing I've learned is that I have control over exactly NOTHING.

Not my fucking weight, not my fucking life, not my fucking child, not my income for a very long time, not my fucking anything.  My friends and family do whatever they like because they're not in charge of much either. We're all just bouncing around this planet, this space, and doing the best we can.

Losing my old life, losing my baby, changed me.   I've been to to mother fucking war.  I am hardened, dead inside in some parts I think sometimes. 

I dunno.  I doubt anyone ever reads this anymore.

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