Hir Nihata


On Saturday, three nights ago, I got into a heady fight with a man I’ve been having an affair with for over 3 years. Things escalated and I remained mature and professional even though he became arrogant, cold and punitive. Later that night I dreamed that my daughter and I were on a plane and had caught something while traveling. Concerned, I went to the ticket counter’s service desk after the flight to report it. “Hir Nihata.” Clear as day, it kept ringing in my ears. Although there were half a dozen agents seated behind the counter, not one of them began to help us. After fifteen minutes of being ignored, I asserted myself and spoke up that we had caught Hir Nihata. Immediately the agents became very concerned and began showing us excellent service to address our needs.

When I woke up I googled what Hir Nihata means because it was so clear to me in my dream yet I had never heard these words before. Hir means a form of “Her.” And Nihata. (click to link to the definition.)

Great, so now I’m dreaming in Sanskrit –which is more apropos than you can imagine, and the symbolism and literal meaning is disturbing. But, in a way that left me consoled. “This is how things are now,” the consolation whispered, “but be patient and things have a way of changing with the Universe’s Intention.” I thought about how, 10 years earlier, I had wanted my daughter and I would have never in my wildest dreams (and you know how wild those get!) would have imagined the circumstances leading to how I would get my daughter 8 years after that dark chapter. Things have a way of working out, but the Universe weaves a mysterious fabric and each thread has its own way to fulfill the pattern.

Will I give up? No. I have been resurrected and I have resurrected. I have learned patience and diplomacy where once I only knew how to escalate. This man, too, has been given redemption and a chance to right the wrongs of the past in more ways than The Creation. It is his karma to provide now for failing this before.

The Panic Sets In.


I was laying in the bed. Was it a hospital? Hospice? All I knew was that I was dying. It had been going on for a day now, but today I could feel my body shutting down. I was living the dying. There is a certain level of terror to feel that each breath is your last, only to discover hours later that you’re still hanging on and still dying. I became worried that the nurses would do something to my body too soon after I took my last breath –like cover me with a sheet– you know, after I had taken my last breath but before I (my soul) had separated from my body. That in-between place where I was dead but there was still enough residual brain activity for my ears to hear and my soul to still feel connected to my body. Even though I had been dying all day, there was a certain level of endlessness to it. I had already accepted it and made my peace with it. I was ready. But the final breath would not come. And that was the terrifying part.

Then I heard a nurse say sadly, “But she’s so young.”

I was very out of it and asked the nurse how old I was.

“You’re 36.”

The panic sets in. My daughter. Where is my daughter?! What’s going to happen to her? I’ve made arrangements but am I really comfortable and happy with those arrangements? I need to call her grandmother and her godmother. I need my daughter with me. Where is she? Where will she go? What will happen to her? She won’t understand. I could feel the volcanic tsunami of uncontrollable sadness my daughter would feel, and my heart shattered for her. The panic of knowing she would be without me and there was nothing I could do. The panic that I would be without her, forcibly separated from her against my will, and there was nothing I could do. I was no longer at peace with dying. I was no longer ready. I mustered all my strength and found my cell phone and began making phone calls to explain to close friends and relatives how I was suddenly dying and had a day or two left to live. Suddenly I didn’t want to be alone in my dying.

I woke up with my pulse racing, the panic still alive in my heart. It was a dream? It was a dream. I rolled over to tell someone, to share this horrible nightmare with them, to be soothed and comforted by them, but they weren’t there. Not yet. He’ll be here soon; in a few weeks, less if I’m lucky. I thought about calling him, but at that moment my dog came into my room and offered comfort and a wet nose on my cheek as a kiss. It helped me feel less wobbly between the dream world and this reality, and more grounded in the knowledge that it was just a nightmare. I just couldn’t shake the terror.

Momentary Perfection.


For just a brief moment last week I realized that my life was perfect. On a personal level, I wasn’t adrift over any guys and was in a happy and peaceful place with my singleness. I was making huge leaps and bounds in paying off my mortgage faster than anticipated. I had recently lost my one eyed black cat 2 weeks ago but neighbors had spotted her and we were reunited several days later. Then, shortly after we were reunited, my car needed a $900 repair. Then my clothes stopped fitting (welcome 2nd trimester!) so I went to a discount store and bought some items that should last me through the entire pregnancy. Then I discovered an ad for NSA sex on Craigslist (I browse while bored!) and the picture in the ad was my friend’s husband. The ad was nasty and he definitely wasn’t planning on playing safe. So I had to wrestle with that decision and with the guidance of friends, decided to mail her a copy of the ad anonymously because I didn’t want to be involved yet knew from at the very least a health standpoint that she needed to know about his intentions. And then yesterday. Yesterday I dropped my daughter off at her grandma’s house and did that $150 pregnancy wardrobe shopping, and after walking out of the store I get a call from my neighbor. My little black kitty is in her house and isn’t doing so well. I went straight there and it looked like she’d been hit by a car. She was bleeding from her mouth, acting like she had a concussion, lethargic and crying in pain. I scooped her up and immediately drove to the nearest ER clinic with her in my lap while she bled on my arm and shirt. The vet said it wasn’t a car. It was acute kidney failure. No pain meds could be prescribed because her body was shutting down and it wouldn’t be absorbed, and her body was shutting down fast. She maybe had 24 hours left to live but she was in a huge amount of pain. The ER vet cost $700 and I would have gladly gone into debt to save her. She was a beautiful soul. I regret not spending more quality time with her, but that’s my lesson to live with.

Mitzvah went into acute kidney failure yesterday morning and I rushed her to the ER. We spent her last few hours cuddling while I cried my heart out to her. Looking back, it explains her “wandering” behavior the past few weeks when I thought she was lost. During the time she went missing for a few nights, I prayed for 1 more night with her. I was given 2 additional weeks. I didn’t realize she was dying. I rescued her from an animal shelter in Israel in 2006 and even though she’s been my most expensive kitty I have never regretted it. She adopted me just as much as I had adopted her. She was a true lap cat. She was a boss. She loved making eye contact while sitting in my lap and getting petted. She loved joining me while I took the dog for a walk with the baby and she would run to accompany us the whole way. After speaking with the ER vet, looking back there had been symptoms, but I hadn’t recognized them. Yesterday I rushed her to the ER thinking she had been hit by a car, but the vet diagnosed kidney failure. It was a great shock to me that her final moments had approached. She was supposed to be around for at least another 5 years. She was supposed to meet the new baby. But, her body was failing fast and due to her kidney condition the vet was unable to give any pain meds. Her final time was spent being loved and cherished. Forever my 1 eyed black kitty I rescued from Israel. My family won’t be the same without you.

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More pics!


I love the mall photo booth! It prints the pictures as stickers! Love the stickers we got today! I rarely, and I mean, like nevaaahhh, go to the mall. I think it’s been a year? Maybe longer? But the tax-free sales today…and I have gift cards I’m trying to live off of. So we went. First to Old Navy where we scored some much needed items for cheap –so cheap that I didn’t use the full amount of the gift card and was handed back $4 in change! Score! Then to Macy’s to use that gift card, but they don’t carry toddler shoes. WTF? Seroiusly? Fine, so we went across the mall to Dillards and I paid for the cheapest (and pretty awesome) Stride Rite shoes ($25) that fit my toddler. Because her big toe had been hanging off by about an inch on her “old” sandals. I’d say it happened overnight, but it had been steadily outgrown since May. It’s just easy to lose track of because here in Florida we go around barefoot a lot. Or, I’m carrying her. Or, she’s in a shopping cart. Then, since we were in Dillards and they were having this incredible bra sale 2 rows over from the toddler shoe section, I checked it out. Because January 2013 was the last time I bought 2 new bras, and for an item that is worn daily to hold up these massive DDDs, you can imagine the condition they are in TODAY. I scored 2 new GOOD bras for hella cheap! They were 50% off clearance!!! So I got a Wacoal for $5 (OMG DUDE!!! It’s a great bra!!!) and a Natori for $10!!!!! Both are really supportive and excellent quality –not the cheapy lingerie special date night type, these suckers are built to last. And they’re sexy! Bonus! Sorry, the pics aren’t of me showcasing the bras. By this point my toddler and I are in desperate need of food. So we hit up the smoothie stand and then shared a slice at Sbarro. Upon our trek back across the mall is when I spotted the photo booth. Tempting since we were both fed and in good spirits. And then I noticed it prints the photos as stickers! Like, actual peel them off and stick them on things-type-of-stickers! SOLD!

In other news, I’m glad I’m hustling in some extra cash because my daughter’s dance classes are $95/month for 3 classes/week. Each class is an hour. She’s taking tap, ballet and tumbling! It’s an absolutely amazing deal for 12 hours of dance/month! I’ve also got her in a Montessori/Waldorf art class once a week at $12/class. It’s a brilliant class and she responded instantly to it. It was beautiful to see and be a part of it. A part of her I had never seen before lit up and blossomed before my eyes.

In other news, I begin my 2nd trimester in 2 days (on Tuesday, so technically less than 48 hours)!!! I’m feeling good most of the time. Sleeping has been weird. I fall asleep instantly, but then wake up around 3am with insomnia. It makes me feel a bit off throughout the day and my body begs for a nap when I put the toddler down for hers. So we end up napping together, which is really nice & great bonding. I’ve got 2 names picked out and I’m really struggling with which one to use! They are both beautiful. I’ve asked several dozen people and without fail every person picks the one the previous person didn’t chose, which has left me with a 50/50 split! *sigh*

Good times at the mall!

Good times at the mall!


No H2O Rice!


I’ve been craving Thai food and I’m on a budget, so in my haste to shove food in my mouth I came up with a really fast and super delicious recipe that thousands of others probably 1) Already know about and 2) Probably do way better, but here it goes:

Put a cup of rice in your rice cooker bowl and wash it several times. Add 1 can of coconut milk. Add 1 spoon of green curry paste. Cover and start the rice cooker. When it’s finished add a little salt. I also added salmon and broccoli to mine.

It was freaking phenomenal!!!! My newest addiction. The rice had so much flavor! I’m no longer cooking my rice in water. Boooooring! A can of coconut milk makes it soooo yummy!

Thai-ish rice!

Thai-ish rice!

Delusional Fantasies…


There are several happening right now.

First one happened last night when my daughter and I were at the beach in the evening. Right as we were leaving guess who I saw walking along the beach? You got it, the ex-fiance. Fuck! I ducked behind the ramp, but my dog had caught wind of his husky and took off to say hello to his long lost canine friend. Of course once he saw my German Shepherd bolting towards him and the two dogs chasing each other happily at warp speed on the beach, he began to look for me. He was with some girl so I thought he’d just wave and keep walking, but no, he actually approached me. I thought to apologize to my face, but no, it was just to engage me in conversation. His friend began to get frustrated with him taking so long talking to me so as she approached I asked if it was his girlfriend. He said no, but mentioned it was his ex (the one before me that he had a restraining order against because she’s an even more self-absorbed psycho than he is!)

“You know she just got out of spending 3 months in jail and her boyfriend broke up with her and got a restraining order against her, too.” I told him incredulous that he would be hanging out with her.

“Yeah, she was just telling me all about that.”

Fucking weirdos. They totally deserve each other. No wonder they lasted 5 years together. He would call the cops on her because she’s an alcoholic and would fly into these drunken rages, she’d go to jail and come out all sober and loving, until the cycle repeated again in a month. I’m telling you, this bitch has over 3 dozen mug shots online at the local county jail, and that’s just in this state. She’s got records in other states, too.

Anyway, he tells her he’s going to be a minute and she walks off to wait for him while he chats me up. We exchange basic information, you know, I ask him how his sobriety is doing, if he has a job and if he’s still living with his mom. Towards the end of our 15 minute conversation I share with him my good news about my pregnancy. I gotta hand it to him, he kept it professional and congratulated me and wished me the best.

Then I get a text at 2 am that says, “You really got me tonight. My heart just totally sank and shattered on the ground when you told me that.”

After several texts he elaborated that he had been holding onto the fantasy of us one day getting back together, and deep down he really held on to this idea. And then he went on to say that he wished he had never met me and that me having another baby with the donor was a deal breaker and to not ever contact him again.

I’ve already thanked my little fetus for doing what I wasn’t able to accomplish –finally getting rid of the ex from hell. At least the ex admitted to living in a delusional fantasy. Thank god my pregnancy allowed him to (finally) let go of the idea that we would end up together. I can summarize our entire relationship by just saying it’s really frustrating being with someone who misinterprets everything you say and do. ¬†And if that didn’t sum it up, then this does:



The other delusional fantasy is:

The one with my housemate. See, she’s Chinese. Like, from China. Like, moved to the States last year. So there’s a language and culture barrier, but we’re both ok with it. However, I mentioned to her my pregnancy and how it’s a sister to my daughter and she started asking me about my husband. Fuck.

I told her the truth, that we used to be married but we were really young and it didn’t work out. But then, you know, her look of confusion and the language barrier, and the cultural gap…I just kinda winged it. I told her that he lives and works very hard in another state (truth) but that he takes care of us and wants to be with us very much (lie). I thought that would be enough and the end of this conversation so that we could just sweep it under the carpet and be housemates and focus on dishes and schedules and stuff that people do when living together, but now she keeps asking me about my husband. So I tell her he’s working really hard and he’s doing good and very excited about the baby. That seems to make her happy. You know, because she gets on the phone and tells her mom in China about everything here. I realize my lifestyle is seriously deranged to a traditional Chinese woman and her family and they must have raised eyebrows about the house where their daughter is living. The only great thing about this situation is that my housemate needed to live in a house with no men, so my arrangement works well for her. Only females here!

The third delusional fantasy:

Is regarding a friend. This friend is very much in love with me and my daughter. This friend walks around in his life in a functioning shell of himself, but only comes truly alive when spending time with me and my daughter. We bring out the love, humor and emotion in him. He’s not used to feeling the range of emotions and it scares him, so he gets upset and angry. This friend is living in what can only be described as a fake marriage. For 8 years they did not tell their families that they were married. They have lived in separate states since almost the year they got married. They see each other a few times a year and maybe have sex once a year, if that. He stays with her out of some deranged misguided obligation. I say misguided because for personal reasons his obligation to me should weigh greater than to a woman who is basically a wife only by paper. His wife is a pretty woman and is a pharmacist, and could get another husband easily enough, and one who would probably treat her better (like live with her, be thrilled to have sex with her more than the obligatory once a year, and a million other things that loving couples do).

My stance is that if he can’t figure out an exit strategy, or is unwilling to, then aside from depriving us from becoming a true family with me and my daughters, he is unwilling to live in an alive state with a woman who ignites all the fires in his soul. Ultimately, I’ve stopped talking to him because it’s just too difficult for me to feel this way that I’m feeling. I feel like he’s choosing this fake wife over the potential for a real family. And it’s become difficult for me since my daughter has begun wanting a father figure to attach to. It’s become a knife in my heart.

All I can say is if he hasn’t learned the meaning of the word regret and hindsight by this point in his life, then there’s nothing I can say or do to sway him otherwise. He’s made enough bad decisions in his life to know how regret works. To not be a part of our lives, especially these precious baby years, will be the biggest regret of his life. He has the power to live a truth yet he chooses to live a lie. It’s why I can’t even talk to him anymore. He is the biggest love of my life, and I his. We do things for each other that no one else in the world could ever understand. It’s just a waste of a family. His wife can always get another husband, my daughter is growing up without a daddy. I’m sorry, but I care more about my daughter than his fake wife, and I feel that my daughter having a daddy is way more time-sensitive than the other. His wife can always remarry. My daughter can’t redo her childhood.




Eating out.


As a part of my, “Living lean, living leaner” fiscal plan, I haven’t been eating out unless absolutely necessary or if I have a gift card to the restaurant. It’s given me a new perspective on the food industry and how detached we, as consumers, are to what we get and what we pay for it. What I mean is, I can buy 12 oz. of vegetarian fed all natural buffalo meat –buffalo that were raised without antibiotics or growth hormones and never fed any animal by-products. And I can buy it for $9.99 when not on sale. I can buy organic chicken for less. So, when I go to a steak restaurant and see a steak for over $25, my first reaction is, “WTF? It’s not even organic?! How the hell can they charge that much?!” It’s making me not order meat meals when I eat out at restaurants. Typically it’s the other way around –when people go out to eat, they go out to splurge and eat a fancy meat meal. But, it doesn’t make much sense. It makes as much sense as ordering spaghetti at an Italian restaurant for $8.95 when you can make organic spaghetti at home for $2.88 (a pound of pasta is $1 and I found Organic pasta sauce at Wal Mart for $1.88). Eating out at restaurants just makes no sense unless it’s exotic ethnic foods or a meal that I’m totally incapable of making at home. Basically, the less I eat out, the less I want to eat out. Especially when I can prepare a similar organic meal at home for a fraction of the price. And by preparing it at home, I know exactly what goes in it and how much. I’m so leery of what restaurants are using for food these days. You don’t know where restaurants get their vegetables or if everything comes pre-made and frozen from a factory, or if they have a source for quality ingredients. Don’t get me wrong, I still love to eat out, but I’m paying more attention to what I’m getting and how much they’re charging. Restaurants have always charged exorbitant prices, that’s nothing new, but these days organic options should be available for what they’re charging for conventional food.