Thanksgiving

Belle celebrated her first Thanksgiving in the cat suit she wore for Halloween.  I made our dinner:  one twelve pound turkey, gravy, cornbread dressing, cranberry sauce, mashed yams, roasted carrots with apples and onions and pumpkin bread pudding.  I made everything from scratch except for the dressing.  That came from a mix.  Even the pumpkin had once been oven roasted, processed and frozen by me ahead of time.  We sampled most foods as we made them, just not the turkey.  I literally snatched the roasted skin off its breast and took off.  Our own dinner would need to wait.  We had places at two dinner tables on Thanksgiving

Maum

Thursday, November eighth marks thirty-one years since my mother's murder and my father's suicide.  This is the first anniversary in my adult life where I have something healthy and positive in my life to offset the tragedy.  I am a mother now, five years older than my mother was when she died.  In a few years I will outlive my father too.

My parents died less than ten days after Halloween, wiping out any memories of Halloween 1981.  I grew up with a religious fanatic for a grandmother, afraid of Halloween, only celebrating Halloween at school and never at home.  This year I dressed myself as a peacock and Belle as a feisty black cat.  We collected candy in the rain and without an umbrella until I could walk no further.  I had so much fun.

I have had six consecutively stellar days leading into this anniversary week.  I aim for my vibration to stay this high in order for me to attract the very best for us.  I had been stuck for many years before Belle.  I didn't attract the best things for myself because I didn't always feel deserving.  I didn't feel deserving because I'd lost my parents and my grandparents.  Without a sense of familial identity, I didn't have anyone to hold me accountable or to make proud.  Now I do.  She calls me "Maum."

Growing up

Belle weighed in at 15 lbs, 9 oz on October tenth.  She is rapidly outgrowing the 6 month clothing size, as I discovered very early Thursday morning when I couldn't get two blouses over her head.  I am currently washing her 9 months clothes, noting clothes marked Newborn, Small or 6 months that can accommodate up to 20 pounds.  I am very curious what the scales will read in the coming week.

I am still breastfeeding Belle on demand, co-sleeping and dream feeding.  Belle self-feeds peeled bananas, bread and anything she can hold onto and nibble without dripping onto herself.  She enjoys draining purees made from organic fruits and vegetables from convenient foil pouches.  We share mashed potatoes, mashed garnet yams, homemade applesauce and most other appropriately soft foods.  Sometimes I feed her from the jars of baby food I keep on hand in between bites of bread.  It takes all of me to keep her hands out of the purees.

Belle especially loves baby yogurt, made from whole milk and organic fruit.  She comes to life eating that.  She has the same reaction to oven roasted and mashed yams.  I recently prepared a four ounce bowl of yams to feed Belle from.  She loved it so much that she asked for more and more, not stopping until she'd eaten twelve ounces of yams for dinner.  The next night, in stark contrast, Belle appeared content with just one slice of whole grain bread.  I let her motion yes or no and self-regulate.

me/Belle

Not a doormat

G paid me (not Belle!) an unexpected visit in the wee hours of Saturday morning. I realised this when I discovered his crumpled hat on my doormat, next to unopened bags of crackers and containers of yogurt for two, at 9:30 Saturday morning. There was nothing for Belle, of course. I tied the hat into a bag to give to her later. She deserves something of his.

I spied G late Saturday afternoon at a street faire.  He approached me. I made sure he held Belle while I took pictures. Later on he brought a female friend along to meet Belle. He made some mention of bringing something by in two weeks' time, not for Belle, but for me.

I made a friend today who says she has profitted handsomely from child support. She is fifty-five now (Her daughter is now thirty-four) and is still getting back child support. I have not pressed G for anything, despite his claims that he has a wealth in assets. I am hanging loose for now.

I consciously agreed to a sexual relationship with G once upon a time. I wasn't victimised or duped. I was drinking a lot, eating to excess and not living up to my full potential. Motherhood represents me at my full potential, with all those unhealthy appetites curbed. I had already made the shift by attracting G as a lover.  Now that I have Belle, I am on the right track.

Mother Train

Belle and I recently attended a birthday party for our neighbours' three year old son. The boy is currently interested in trains, which served as theme for the party. I remembered my mother's train set in the garage as I watched the child marvel at his train shaped cake. This, coupled with tonight's full moon (Feminine. Mother.) in my fourth house of home, got me thinking about my mother.

I witnessed my mother's murder and my father's suicide as a five year old. I spent many years avoiding committed relationships as an unfortunate result. I also developed a complex love/hate relationship with a woman I never knew. This might explain why I spent thirty-four weeks pregnant and oblivious. How does one become a mother without being fully mothered?

Tonight I realised these are my mother's issues, not mine. My mother made choices which ultimately prevented her from being my mother and Belle's grandmother. While everyone remembers her as "so sweet," her personal life was a mess. There is no guarantee that she would even be of any help to me if she were alive. Had she successfully left my father, she surely would have drifted off with someone more abusive and dependent. I probably would not be me with her here.

I placed the train swag bag:  cotton engineer's hat, train whistle and stickers underneath a portrait of my mother as a child of seven or so.  This is a fitting tribute to the innocent and loving child she was, the part of her that wanted so much to be here in this world.

Food

We like a savory breakfast:  meat, fish or poultry and/or cheese, scrambled eggs, vegetables and rice.  We are not satisfied with cold cereal.  In fact, dry Cheerios make an excellent snack a couple hours later when paired with a banana, of which we eat in abundance.  This makes a great start to the day!