Poly Nirvana

Love, Life and Rational Polyamory


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~Agenda~

Today I feel:

  • Tired
  • Quiet
  • Excited

Today I am grateful for:

  • Coffee
  • Technology
  • Calendars

Today I:

  • Listened to Regina Spektor.
  • Watched Gilmore GIrls.
  • Ate a fried egg sandwich with white cheese.
  • Tried not to worry.
  • Couldn’t think of anything interesting to write about.


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~Strange~

Tomorrow morning is our monthly poly potluck.  It’s a community thing, and it ranges from a handful of people, to around twenty people, depending on the month.  I don’t always attend, as I generally work Sunday nights, and I like to be home with the kids and then I sleep in the afternoon.  This month I’m off, and I’m going.

I got a message from Mrs. A, asking me, that if she decided to go would I go as well, or would I stay home.

(Ugh. I don’t want to do this.)

She and I haven’t spoken or had even a polite kind of resolution to The Episode. I know it’s going to have to happen.  I hate conflict.  It makes my stomach hurt.  I told her no, I probably wouldn’t go if she decided to go, since we hadn’t hadn’t talked yet.  I can’t do the awkward, stilted, not-conversation tomorrow.

My counselor asked me, would I consider a thirty day “respite” period, wherein I give myself permission to not make any decisions about how to move forward, as I’ve been pretty focused on what on earth I was going to DO, what was best, what was reasonable, what was both kind to her and still mindful of my own boundaries.

I told her, Yes, I was going. She told me, she would not.

I don’t like this one bit. But I don’t know what else to do.

I am exhausted, I have not caught up from my few nights in the hospital with Leo. Last night was date night. Special Man and I had a quick dinner close to my house, and wandered an awesome toy store for a little bit before coming home and watching a movie with my kids.  It was perfect.  We climbed into my bed, and did little: random small talk, internet. I curled up and slept, he did not.

It was wonderful.

He woke me after a couple of hours, and made love to me.  It was warm and comfortable, and when it was over, it wasn’t over.  I cried.

He’s used to it, these tears that belong to him.

I cried because I was safe.  I cried because I was happy.  I cried because I have so much more than I ever expected, and I cried because still, I want more.

And I cried, because I know, it will come.

In the morning, I woke early and left him in my bed while I had coffee and worked on the computer.  He sent me a message.  You should come upstairs and kiss me.  

So I did.  This time there were no tears.


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~Touch~

 

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I named him Leo, after Leo McGarry from West Wing.  He was born ten days before I started nursing school, and he’s an enthusiastic, energetic, creative, affectionate and loving kid.  This sucks.  I’d like to say, all’s well that ends well, but right now even my bones are exhausted, and Leo just told me I should take a shower.  I guess two days of stress and worry can make a momma bear a little frayed around the edges.

And stinky, apparently.

Yesterday was a long day, with surgery lasting just over three hours, and a long recovery period complicated by violent vomiting that would not stop.  He was given drug after drug, a fluid bolus, acupressure wrist bands that might help (they didn’t), more drugs, and, when a kind nurse told me she was trained in “therapeutic touch”, and offered to work on his energy, I said bring it.  (I wish I had a picture.)  She was a very kind woman, who didn’t bat an eye when he began to throw up during her healing session.

We tried more drugs.  Finally. Peace.

And then my important person was there  I had almost tried to let him off the hook earlier in the evening. He texted me right back.

::I need to be with you, kitten. I’ll be there in 30 minutes::

(He calls me kitten sometimes.  It’s my favorite.)

He apologized for getting upset when I told him I wasn’t happy he was leaving town this week.  “I wasn’t thinking,” he said.   He isn’t going anywhere.  And, in three weeks and six days, when it’s time for Georgia’s surgery, he’s taking a personal day at work so he can be with us.  And that is how I want my relationships to work.  Communicate, adjust and readjust, move forward.  I’m fortunate that I get to recognize these small milestones, because that’s how I see them, as important little relationship mile markers.   Look at us, I think sometimes.  We are really doing this.

Tonight CC and SMF were both here.  She sat and crocheted, he ordered sandwiches and managed the bedside table for Leo.  I sat on the floor, my arms wrapped around my knees and did not cry.  It was easy, this being together, and in my exhausted state I felt emotional, and raw, and grateful.


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~Singular~

You know what I kind of love?

My one-word titles.

It wasn’t always like this, the single word blog post title.But it evolved fairly quickly.  Now I find choosing a title, almost as pleasurable as writing a good post. That’s a little weird, right?

I don’t care.  I’m weird.

Sometimes the title comes first.  Sometimes it comes last. But it always gives me a small tingle of satisfaction, to choose that title.

I chose the word Singular for this, yesterday, simply in reference to my single word title tradition.

But today, it’s appropriate for something completely different.  As I’m preparing for my little Leo to have his big surgery tomorrow, I find myself wondering how much longer I can be alone.  Single.

Now this was a really random thought that floated through my brain late last night.  Because I’m not exactly single.  I do think of myself as attached.  But functionally, I am single.  Solitary. I do not have a “nesting partner”.  (I absolutely love this phrase, nesting partner.)  In the generally accepted language of polyamory, I do not have a primary

What this means to me, is that as important as I am to Special Man Friend, I stand alone in much of my life. I’m alone in checking the mail and walking in my house with a handful of medical bills that will not stop any time soon.  I’m alone in packing for tomorrow, and in making sure I’ve got the pantry stocked for the other kids.  I’m alone in making sure I’ve picked up the prescriptions, made the follow up appointments, planned for the financial challenge of being off for several weeks with each child’s surgery.

We aren’t connected in that way.

He’s a huge support to me, emotionally. He loves me, and he truly loves my children.  But this is all on me.  As is planning for retirement, making sure I schedule for the sprinklers to be blown out, doing the laundry, deciding to move, or disciplining my children.  He will be at the hospital, tomorrow after work, and likely Wednesday as well.  But he’s giving everything he has available. I know this, and yet, today, it doesn’t feel like I have what I want.  Ironically, I don’t really WANT to intermingle finances with anyone, and I certainly don’t need someone else parenting my children. But I want my important person by my side. I will sit alone tomorrow, waiting for my child to come out of surgery.  Because it’s all on me.

This is where I am, as a polysingle, solo poly, secondary, satellite partner.  I don’t know which term I like, because most of the time I am just ME.  I don’t identify as any of those words.  I know I am loved and cherished.

Over the weekend, SMF told me he was moving up an out of state trip, planned for two weekends from now, to THIS weekend, and he’d be leaving on Thursday, most likely when Leo was still in the hospital. It wasn’t a discussion, he was just informing me.

And that hurt.

It took me a day to be able to process what was going on with me, in my head.  I didn’t want to sit and stew about it.  I’ve done that in the past, in an effort to avoid conflict, but it always comes back to bite me.  I am working towards much more transparent and healthy communication. I texted him from work.

::I have to tell you I’m kind of disappointed you’re leaving town this week, before we even see how Leo does.  He’s your people too.  I don’t think you are uncaring.  But this is a really big deal and I feel solidly alone in it::

There was some back and forth.  He has a lot on his plate too, and needed some alone time, and while I really, really do get that, THIS IS A BIG SCARY THING THAT HAS BEEN ON THE CALENDAR FOR SEVERAL MONTHS AND MY PERSON WANTED TO LEAVE TOWN.

Then I got to have the internal dialogue in my head, about whether or not I was being selfish, or doing good poly, or being a good partner.

But you know what? After everything we’ve done to establish ourselves as committed to each other, I have the right to say, “Hold on.”  Sometimes it really does come down to whose needs are greater.  Does that make me selfish?  I’m not sure.  In this moment, maybe.  Yes.

I didn’t tell him I was upset about him leaving in order to guilt him into anything.  I told him so that I wouldn’t swallow that hurt and resentment down so hard, and so deep, that it would eat it’s way back up and explode on him in the future.  That just doesn’t seem fair to him, or to me.  My plan was to tell him, exactly what I needed to say, and then at least he would be able to make an informed decision about how this could affect me, or us. He could never say, he didn’t know how I felt.

I am not sure if he will go or not, but I feel good about trying to be healthy in my relationship with him.

Now I’m off to the pharmacy to pick up pre-op prescriptions.


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~Forward~

I’m really excited about a lot of things.  I’m also nervous, because I’ve decided to take some risks which put the possibility of failure on my figurative, full to overflowing, plate .  Still, it’s a fantastic feeling to have plans and ideas to look ahead to.

I’ve cut one shift every other week at the hospital, so that I can move forward with my plan to supplement my income with my photography. I know I’m on a steep learning curve, but I love it, and I’ve gotten some wonderful feedback on my work.  I plan to cut another shift in the near future, so that I’ll be working two twelve-hour shifts per week, instead of my current schedule of three shifts one week, and two shifts the next.  Honestly, I never thought I’d attempt to have my own business, but I’d never found the right outlet before, either.

This is it.  I know it.

In addition, I am making plans to attend two poly conferences, with an eye towards presenting.  I loved my time at Beyond the Love last year.  It is a challenge for me, living in a very small conservative area, in a very conservative state, to have the face to face community that I think can be so important to any group of people who are “outside” of the box.  Much of my learning and socialization and feeling of community within PolyLand, comes, for me, from online and long distance interaction.  I am not sure exactly where I’d be without my online community,my friends, my discussion groups, my blog.  The things I assimilate and integrate into the way I practice relationships, and the way I function in my relationships are very much influenced by the things and people and writings I have access to through the internet.

I think this is an amazing thing.

So, I want to give back to this bigger community.  I want to contribute too.

The last thing I’m looking forward to, is opening my heart to the possibility of another significant relationship.  It’s time.  Special Man and I are very solid now, months after The Great Failed Breakup of 2014. I have been closed off, and, well, downright scared.

I’m not scared any more.

I am however, skeptical that I will find anyone local that I connect with.  I am careful, cautious, and slow to love. And I’m really okay with that.  It does mean that finding kindred partners is a challenge, especially when you factor in the previously mentioned very small conservative location of my existence.

Oh well.  The first step is opening your heart to all the possibilities.

So, bring it. 


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~Crush~

I have a girl crush.

Actually, I have several of them.

But for now let’s just pause to reflect on the fantastic Miss SeattlePolyChick.

That girl can write about anything.  I don’t know how she does it, but I have been touched by posts about her car, her dog, her poly, her broken foot, her divorce, her fun roommates, her new apartment.  I’ve gotten to hear about kink things, family things, sexy things.  I fear if I ever met her, (which I fully intend to do), I would be dumbstruck by her awesomeness.

(Also, she has a fantastic ass.)

Then there’s Wonder Woman.  Who doesn’t have a crush on Wonder Woman?  She’s strong and tough and independent.  (Except when she was swooning over that Colonel.  I never enjoyed that part.She’d get all sparkly eyed and smiley. When I was a girl, I would roll my eyes and long for the episode where she returned to the island to visit her goddess sisters.)

This week at work, one of my fellow nurses told me about a book written about the creator of the Wonder Woman character.  She was so excited to tell me that he was polyamorous, and that Wonder Woman was inspired by his wife and his girlfriend.  Who knew?  (Apparently everyone except for me.)  Last weekend for my birthday, CC gave me shiny Wonder Woman panties, with a cape.  For your bum.

So there.

http://www.chicagoreader.com/Bleader/archives/2014/05/23/feminism-and-fetishism-the-origins-of-wonder-woman