On Fluid Bond and Triad Relations

Hello. Again, I assume.
Things have been pretty normal, pretty quiet, all things considered. I have had a few thoughts, and a coworker asked me a question that inspired about ten seconds' thought before I answered correctly. And it seems that our love J has been having some difficulties with her head. We're thinking it's post-partum depression, but it's definitely a form of depression. I'm also trying to unspoil the L midget, because this is damn ridiculous.

The coworker asked me what would happen if I were to become pregnant. I said, immediately, that he would be delighted. And coworker asked if J would mind, and this is what brought on the ten seconds of thought-- and then I figured out that she would laugh her ass off. 'cos I don't want to give birth. Or even have kids, which is funny, seeing as there are three between the two people I'm with, but I still have the ability to step back and away and call for the biologicals. The exception to this is L, who is simple enough to care for. Ish. But I constantly, when there are troubles with the parenting (as M reminds himself, "the joys of parenthood"), like when K decided to smear poop all in his room or when Mj and K fight and I have to interfere, etc.-- I singsong the phrase, "never having children". Which I think annoys M, because he's been trying his damnedest to get me to feel all included in the parenting thing, while I'm keeping my distance, not so much on purpose as by a reflex that I don't really want to work my way through at the moment, for various reasons, the chief of which being a sense of being out of my territory and edging into someone else's. I also have a list (that doesn't actually have a number system) of reasons I don't want to have children. 'cos kids are hard and rely entirely on you to explain and demonstrate and are going to fuck up (I know, I was one.), and really? Playing with your poop? Really?

Speaking of children being awful-- L is spoiled rotten, right? "But how can a five month old be spoiled?" I pretend to hear you ask. Well, let me explain.
You can totally spoil a five-month-old. By carrying it around constantly from the minute it's born, and never setting it down. After a while, it gets used to this, and then refuses to be put down and quiet simultaneously. J and I have blamed this on M. Because it is totally his fault.
So what the child does is cry. Non-stop. Despite having been fed, changed, burped, empty of poop, and all other things that could be wrong have been established fixed or non-existent, and the only way to make him stop is to pick him up and carry him around. He won't let you sit down, he won't let you stand still. He loves being put into the baby carry-thingie that works like a front-backpack, but I'm not a particularly tall person, and therefore my arms are not long enough to do things with him there, except, sometimes, laundry. And the little bundle of joy and spit-up is heavy, after a minute, and I already have an upper back problem. Also, I am completely out of commission for this indulgence for him after I've worked, and even the day after.
So I'm unspoiling him, slowly. Not by letting him cry, though I've done that before, because it was that or punt the little shit through a wall, and I would miss him if I did that, as well as be horribly murdered by his parents. He has a mobile in his crib that has a light that circles a little picture against the umbrella of the mobile, it plays music, and of course the dancing animals. I put him in the crib, I turn on the music, and he lies, transfixed, on the bed and watches the pretty colors and listens to the music. It's working, somewhat. He also hates being alone, and if he can't find one of us adults, he gets upset.
He also likes to talk to us. He makes screaming noises and squeaking noises and just in general doesn't shut up. It's so cute.

J has been suffering an awful depression, lately. I've actually got the chemical chronic kind, but hers kind of happened around the birth of the baby, and hasn't really buggered off. There are a lot of little elements in it, but at this point it's kind of chicken and egg, trying to tell which is happening why. Like, she doesn't go out and go do stuff with friends anymore. Part of this was because she lost a lot of contacts during the pregnancy, as several of them were players in a shared sport, and also couldn't go out partying due to pregnancy; another bit has become, lately, money, since even with three working adults in the house, between us attempting to save money for her classes, paying bills (of which the other two have several individually and I have a couple of my own, but that's related to lifestyles and spending habits before we formed our little family), we don't really have much to spare. In addition to making her feel stuck in the house, the idea alone stresses her out.
At the moment, both M and I are trying to figure out what to do about it. We're not entirely sure. When we try to come up with a way to help her out, when we suggest it to her, in true depression-suffering fashion, she finds six reasons that it's not an acceptable option and shoots it down. I know that she has no idea that she's doing this, nor how often she does it, because I've been there, I've done that, and I've driven many people to distraction behaving that way. I told M that he was just gonna have to tie her up and gag her and drag her out and make her have fun. I'm only hoping that she's not too far gone to enjoy something, 'cos I've been there and done that, too. 'course, as aforementioned, mine's chronic-chemical, and I'm pretty sure hers is just a bad patch. She's even said as much, when she hears other people talk about theirs. As it is, she shuffles around and mumbles a lot and sighs heavily all the time (been there, done that, too.). I've suggested St. John's Wort (didn't work for me, but it's OTC, and a good way to eliminate zoloft from the list of options of medicine when we can get her to a doctor.), and I've considered sharing my knock-off paxil with her (worked wonders for me, where three others [prozac, zoloft, celexa] have failed.), but a, I kinda need that, and b, since hers is situational, or at least apparently so, she probably doesn't need so much medicine as sunlight and exercise, and c, she might be one of the ones that needs the month to feel the effects, and I can't share like that. (I felt mine same-day, but again, different chemistry.)

So, I was asked by someone else, after I'd told said someone about the wedding, if I wanted a boyfriend on the side. I turned him down, of course, but couldn't quite make it clear to him that our relationship isn't open. I mean, yes, we're polyamorous, but we're closed. When I tried to clear it up for him, I wound up asking him if he understood quite what I meant when I told him that I was dating two people, and he said he sort of understood-- like a mormon polygamist marriage. I sort of agreed with that, only the exception is that J is not my 'sister', or my fellow bride; she's my girlfriend, in the same sense that M is my boyfriend. I'm their girlfriend, is the way I explain it to people who are only sort of familiar with polyamory. I usually start off that bit with the "they're married", and sometimes it confuses people, but sometimes not.

I then tried to edge around the idea of fluid-bond without being gross about it, or insulting, because telling people that you're refraining from having sex with them because they might get someone's genitals sick is rather insulting, and I failed, but I do feel that it's kind of necessary to explain, so here is where I'm going to do it.
A fluid bond is basically agreeing to not have sex with anyone else outside the relationship/circle/whatever your group happens to identify as. There could be ten people, or three, or fifty, but basically, everyone gets declared clean and doesn't have sex with people outside the other nine, two, or forty-nine people. This is for several reasons, the chief of which is to avoid unwanted infections, and also so that if there are any children that crop up, you can identify whose (unless you're in the group of fifty, in which case, it's either of vital importance, or fuck it, we'll all raise it as our own.). Having been on the unfortunate side of a broken fluid bond, I'm a little titchy about the idea in general. (My ex slept with an infected woman. I'm clear now, but paranoid.)

So, that's what's been going on in our life.
You know, I don't often update, but that's actually because I've forgotten that our relationship is unconventional, except when I go about telling other people about it, and kind of have to knock around the bush for a moment to explain, but even then, people catch on fairly quickly and understand pretty well, even if they think it's a little weird. Most of the reactions have been "I would be too jealous", and while J was for a while, I never have been. Mostly I just feel lucky to be involved. J didn't have to share if she didn't want to, and has tried to anyway, bless her heart. (It's probably another factor in the depression, but we haven't talked about that. I'm wondering if we're all going to need relationship therapy before long...)
But I've gotten to where I feel completely normal about it. It's just a relationship, same as any one with two people in it, only there are three of us. (Of course, I've only got one monamorous to go on, and that was dominantly online, and one other that was only ever online, so I've got kind of a skewed standard, and this is my third relationship ever, sooo....) I did, in the beginning, tell both J and M that they could update the blog, but neither of them has indulged in this. M reads it, I think he checks it fairly regularly, to see what I've got to say (and, in fact, my last posting was met with a question as to whether or not I keep a second blog where I complain about 'us', too; I do have a second blog, but I don't really bitch much about us, because I'm too busy bitching about my issues with my ex and work and the like, slice of MY life, rather than OUR life, and this blog is distinctly about US.), and to see if I've got any complaints or reports that he doesn't know about, I think. I do communicate better in written form, but still.

Oh. It was J's birthday a couple of weeks ago. I know what I want to do for her birthday, but it's looking like that's going to have to wait 'til effin' springtime. M's got my gift-idea ready, but I don't really want to, especially considering how little we did for J. Hers should really come first, and after that we can diddle at mine (despite my requests otherwise. I'm perpetually disappointed with my efforts at a birthday. Eighteenth and nineteenth were pretty good, I think.).

L is hitting his milestones about perfect. His motor function is a little (but not much) slower than suggested it could be, but aside from being unsure how to flex his elbow, he's right on cue with everything.

K's potty-training has been rather hit-or-miss. He has pooped in the potty of his own accord, completely independent of us and without even telling us a few times, but then he'll also go squat behind the furniture to hide from us, or go in his pull-up and then act like he's going to the bathroom to potty. We're currently trying the "you get a treat when you go on the potty" bribery, which works to an extent.

I had a nigh-on argument with M about Mj and how and what we're teaching him. M was trying to give him a little extra responsibility regarding K, and how he would get into trouble if K was up to something and M didn't stop him. I completely disagreed with this, at this particular stage, partly because I've gotten familiar with M and his ways, and partly because I don't think a three-year-old should have any responsibility over any other person ever, because three and four year-olds aren't all that good at discerning good reasons for their own doings, let alone someone else's, and it annoys me even when adults get pissy because they can't figure out why someone's doing something. M had a few good points, being that we needed to teach him early and a sense of responsibility, but I argued that dressing himself would probably be his best bet for a next step, rather than giving him permission to boss his brother around. (He does that enough already.)

Alrighty. That's about it for now. Take care.

Bonds of Matrimony

Hello again.

J and M got married! Hooray!
They picked the date, like, a week and a half ago, and they said their vows and did their thing yesterday. It was cute. J's parents brought her a bouquet and wrote "just married" on her car windows. The minister doing the ceremony was this tiny old guy that rambled for forty-five minutes, I swear. Which got to be hilarious, 'cos J started getting impatient and dancing in place. And I laughed, because I already have a special place reserved in Hell, I might as well earn it with a little more specific blasphemy.
Of course, the clothes were simple and casual, but appropriate. The little room we were in was set up real cute, real simple. No arch, but a carpet on the floor. They held the flowers between them, and the rings on each others' fingers, and M's stomach made a loud grumbly noise right at the beginning.
Overall, simple, beautiful, and adorable. The only problem now is that if it doesn't work out, I'm going to be the one to help hide the body. Or if it's J's body, I'll have to do it myself. (M is a necrophobe.)

The baby is three months old, now, and is hitting all his milestones perfectly. He watches us enter and leave the room, he gets distressed when he can't see anyone, he can get his hands to his mouth and suck on then with reasonable skill.... He curls on his side, and can scoot on his stomach across the crib, etc..

K has learned to take his diaper off. And does so with a frequency. But still doesn't tell us when he's pooped, and prefers to sit in a poopy diaper rather than let us change it. And, in fact, at one point, he pooped in the floor, because apparently, this is what toddlers do. I know this because when I looked it up, the first entry on helping getting poop out of the carpet wasn't, in fact, a pet site like I expected, but was the blog of a woman whose daughter had done the same thing. (The answer is hydrogen peroxide, by the way.)

I keep wondering how on earth parents without three adults around do it. I am always impressed by single parents, but I used to think that two would be enough, but even with two kids, it's just so handy to have six hands. From having someone to drop the one off to so that you can go handle the other one, to being able to stomp away and glare at the wall in the next room while someone else handles stuff, to when someone is screaming and you've still got to untwist the damn seatbelt because shit happens and that's how it goes.... Like, last night, we were trying to pile everyone into the car, and the baby was screaming for god knows why, and K was being annoying about getting into his seat, and J was getting mad 'cos the seatbelt strap had twisted into the seatbelt, and I couldn't get to the seatbelt buckle in addition to being unable to shut the baby up (because for some reason, all of us start losing our minds a little bit when the baby is crying. It's like the sims-- everyone in the general vicinity suddenly has a twenty point detractor from their mood bars when the baby is screaming. And because of that, we all get a little crankier than we were, and we're trying to get something done, and we just want everything to get quiet and still so we can finish.

And yet there are always still problems with the relationship itself, of course. You'd think with more people to fight, there'd be more fighting. I've been a referee once, because in the heat of the moment, a lot of things get lost in translation, and they start getting loud and angry without really understanding what's going on. That, and J's got rage issues, and I tend to duck out of the room when I detect them coming to the surface, because I know how I get when someone around me is angry, and I do not make anything any better.

Poor J, though. She's a very emotional person, in general, and they tend to manifest first as anger, and then as sadness. Even happiness, though I imagine that yesterday it was her nerves in general, and excitement and so forth, that eventually manifested and was why she got upset. 'cos, see, we were gonna have sushi (I spelled that as "suchy" first, because my hands hate me...) as a celebratory dinner, but almost no one wanted to come. Or, if they did want to come, they couldn't, etc., and it upset J rather a lot. I wound up cuddling her on the couch before she passed out. (we were also gonna do a celebratory drinks and game sorta thing, too, but she fell asleep way too early for that. Long morning, long day, with a lot of excitement and running around, I don't blame her. I passed out early-ish, too, but that's my tradition on Monday.) The day was good, but she kept trying to plan, and the plans kept getting harpooned, and it upset her. She does that.
And last week, when she was on her way out the door for work, the door started making a funny noise, and she still swears it was someone trying to get in, and she's requested being walked to her car every morning since then, with M's nightstick.
I'm not entirely sure how to handle the emotionality. I'm never sure if my cuddling her is enough of a sense of security, or if I should get M to do it while I go take M's spot in whatever task he has at hand (except when he's cleaning, because that's precisely what I do, 'cos I am sure that I'm better at housekeeping than I am at comforting an upset woman, and he's better at comforting his upset woman than cleaning.). A lot of the things when I express confusion, I get the same answer, which is "do what comes naturally". Still sucking at this. Out loud.

But I finally did get M to watch some Doctor Who with me. Old ass episodes, from like the seventies and stuff. He's being slowly won over to my British television, though J has remained steadfastly hooked to her Teen Dramas and stuff.

One thing that did happen a lot about the wedding was that when I told people at work, they asked me what was going to happen to me in our relationship. I think the clearest I could get on the matter was telling one girl that I couldn't very well marry them, I'd only been with them for four months (or five, or something.) and we'd get there when we got there. As things stand, I am still their girlfriend, we are all still in the same relationship, but now those two share a legal bond as well as an emotional and spiritual one. I can't seem to make it clear that legal marriage isn't my ultimate goal, and that their bond getting legal doesn't make our emotional one any lesser.

M did suggest "marrying" me in a year, but I don't want to share their anniversary (and possibly cheapen it somehow) and I'm not sure how I feel about marrying them even non-legal-like. It took me four years to get to that point with my ex, and having had my sense and reason forced back upon me, no thank you. We'll have to see.

Parenting by proxy. Whee. Infant needing attention, now. Wish my partners luck! They'll need it!

Catching up!

Oh, jeez, I'm sorry!
Ages have passed, and I've not posted! I'm sorry. It's not even like I didn't have time, I just buried myself in my Sims game (though I'm pretty sure that it displeased J....), and between that and childcare and work (I do disappear totally during worktimes, which are weekends,), I have failed in my duties to update.

So, since I last posted, a few things have happened. L has noticed his arms and legs, and begun to smile. He likes to watch his feet as he kicks them, and he's stopped hitting himself in the side of his head, and likes to try to suck on his fists (he's getting better at it). We're also trying to get him to stay asleep at night, by keeping him awake during the day. Not all day, obviously, but at least six or seven hours during the day, keeping naps down to four hours or so. This has been fun for him-- he rather likes the freefalling sensation and turning flips like we've been doing. (It messes with his inner ear, and scares him enough that he wakes up real well. He loves it.)

So, it turns out that J has been unable to quash the feelings of territorialism, and she doesn't like it when M and I sleep together without her. This does have a couple of complications, like we generally need at least one person to be out of the "loop", so to speak, so that they can take care of the baby, so this is a little unfair, but I completely understand. Like a dog barking at the other dog across the street-- no threat, but still inspires horrible irrational feelings. I've been in the same sort of spot, and it makes sense to me.
Also, I can use the excuse to stop shaving. Bwahahaha. (I hate shaving. Even my legs and armpits.)
I'm not real clear on how M feels about it, though.

I've been studying the dynamic between K and Mj, lately, too. Mj is about a year older than K, and is a completely completely different person. Think Garfield and Odie, kind of completely different. K loves Mj and wants to play with him and thinks he's great and is always wanting to get in on whatever Mj is doing, and wants to do stuff with him-- and Mj is only interested in playing with K when K has finally given up and gone to do something by himself.  K is a people person, Mj isn't.

The baby has cradle crap. (J calls it that, and I find that extremely appropriate.) We managed to get it off his head once, last week, but it's returned since then.

Oh, money. Jeez. We've been having such a problem with it here lately. Not too much, but just the matters of when what bills are due is hard! J has determined that she's giong to need a job between now and when she goes to her EMT training course. The book studying has been going well, of course. It's very interesting, of course, and we're nearing completion of it. I think we've got terrorist attacks and seven kinds of reviews left.

So, K and Mj only watch Caillou and Curious George on  Netflix. We are sick to death of these shows. And they will not be deterred. They'll watch other things after we force the issue, K was totally into Sonic the other day, but once it was over, "Caillou, Caillou!"
Argh, kid!

So, with the kids, I'm beginning to realize I'm in a little over my head. I've got the lightest set of rules between the three adults,  and I'm never sure what to do when they just make me angry as opposed to doing something actually wrong, and determining how to punish is always kind of confusing for me.... I tell them off in the big loud angry voice, and that usually works, but when it doesn't, I don't know what to do. K, especially, doesn't do anything like standing in the corner very well, he's too young and too much a mover and wiggler.
Oh, and Mj is a conniving little turd. He has a big sister at his mother's house, who has apparently trained him well in the arts of ratting to get someone in trouble, rubbing one's toys in the other's face and other general unpleasantries, and I dislike this very much. I tell him off. I do have to tell him off regularly, because he'll act as though K has hurt him, and then I turn his own rules on him. Eventually he'll catch on, he's pretty smart like that.
K, of course, also needs to learn how and when to leave Mj alone, and that Mj isn't necessarily a people person and won't want to play a lot of the time.

We're also working on weaning K off his binky (I still call it a paci), and potty training. He's got a pretty good idea as to how it works, and what to do, but he doesn't want to, so he doesn't.

I'm sleepy, all of a sudden. It's been a lovely catch up. Take care!

So Fast, It'll Make Your Head Spin.

Hello!
It's been a minute (gee, how's that for an old blog starter?), but there is a good reason for that.
First, you see, a week and a halfish ago, L was born. He took his time, rather forcing us to hang out in the hospital for the better part of... Thirteen hours? J had to go twenty-six hours without eating because of it, having messed up some scheduling for the timing of his induction, and then confusing things a little later, and then L taking his sweet time to leave her poor uterus.
J's recovering well enough, for someone who was having her nutrition robbed of her and almost no sleep. She's also determined that the breastfeeding (already) has to stop because she suffers a desire to beat the small one on occasion due to the pain he causes her when he eats, and while she knows that this is not his fault, she has no desire to tolerate this anymore. I don't blame her. I'm about to go get my tubes tied because of this getting-to-witness childbirth business and the breastfeeding and the pregnancy and... Yeah, no. Never. If I ever get to where I'd be comfortable having a child, I'm sure that adoption would be an option.

Because J's vagina exploded. I'm barely kidding. Oh my god. The fluids, the shifting, the mess, the baby, the doctors, the blood, oh my gods. Oh gods. Never ever ever having kids. Like. Ew. And hers was a fairly normal, simple birth. Just spit the baby out with an alternative mouth, and then the gushing and the blood...
We read that chapter in her EMT book, today. If you bleed more than half a liter, then you worry. Half a liter of blood is fine, though.

We've been taking childcare in shifts. Mj has been over once since then, and seems to be alright with the baby, and K is downright delighted to have a baby brother (this will undoubtedly change), and the household seems to be adjusting to his presence pretty well.

The only hiccup we have, is that while M and I try to be around with J, K, and L, we have each gotten a new job, and the hours have tiny conflicts. We deliberately took different shifts with where we got the jobs, so that one of us would be home at basically all times, at least one at night or early morning or something-- except that M has worked there before, and they've already offered him his old position back. He'll be making ridiculously good money relatively soon. Things are still tight, but we've got a bit of wiggle room, at least enough to breathe, which is more than I can say about some previous situations.

Speaking of, this is my first full-time job. Yay. I put together parts for the assembly line factory I work with. Which is fine, really, I have no complaints, except that I know that I'm a bloody genius (despite misspelling that word three times) and I can do better, but the skills I have are useless because of the time and location of my happenstance. Oh well, I can screw bits on and attempt to murder myself with airpressure gun wrenches. (I did totally try to wound myself with one, but it was my own fault, and now I know to drop the damn tool.)
I am getting to end my time at my previous job with a chance for rehire, too. Yippee. If I should ever need it. I hope it doesn't come back to that.

M and I have been talking about our little dysfunction as our relationship, and we have no ideas whatsoever what to do about them. We don't know what they're founded upon at all. I do have rather strange issues with sex, being that I don't know how to approach the subject when I want to have it, and having a semi-low sex drive of my own accord anyway....
We've also been talking about approaches to parenting. Mostly 'cos I completely disagree with a good portion of the things he does in his attempt to parent, but in the end, that's a completely different thing to think about, because that one is one of those questions without a right answer that no one could really tell you.

At new work when we were getting training, one of the girls in our little group asked me with surprise if M was my boyfriend, and when I asked why the surprise, she dodged the question, and then I asked if she thought I was gay, and she said yeah. Haha.

I have mentioned, rather in passing, that I have both, to one person. I met him at lunch, and we chatted for a bit, and for a moment, it was about the Twilight movies.
Because J went to see them with friends of M and J's and people I'm working on getting to know, and M didn't go. And complained about people giving him shit about it. At which point, I agreed with M, and declared that I would much rather take shit for not going to go see Twilight with my girlfriend than go see Twilight with my girlfriend.
But the way I said it was "my boyfriend" and "our girlfriend". I didn't want to look like I was checking his reaction, but the second I did, he looked very much like a speechless fish. I do not know what speechless fish look like, but I'm going to take a stab at a guess and go with the face that the man was making.

I'm feeding the baby as I type, so if there are typos, bite me.

The poor man at work later was telling me how to do foot massages, and he said to tell my boyfriend-- or girlfriend-- or whatever it is that I've got (he didn't ask, I didn't tell, but I would have if he had), how to do whatever it was he told me. (Drive thumb up into arch of foot. It's not my arch that hurts, it's actually the balls of my feet, just below my toes, but yeah. Standing for twelve hours sucks like that.)

I've got night duty, tonight, in case it wasn't obvious. I have no idea what I'm doing to my sleepclock, or even what I want to do with my sleepclock. I hope it works, whatever it is.

So, the kids, right? Mj and K, yeah? They've been doing normal two and three year old stuff, right?
Like taking the mixture of zinc cream and lotion that M concocted for a weird bump on Mj, and smearing it on the TV in their room, on the floor and walls all along the hallway, in the bathroom, and in the pack-n-play we are using for a crib until we're comfortable leaving L on his own for a night, when he sleeps the whole night long.

He's been kind of going weird on his feeding. He doesn't eat in increments of two. One ounce, three ounces, he'll cry once an hour and eat an ounce and eat the other ounce the next hour, he'll eat three ounces and be hungry again in two hours, he'll eat two ounces and cry again after four hours....
I'm wondering about whether he's doing growth spurts on that short notice. I know how kids do with the eating-- they're not like grown-ups. They need the food, they eat the food, they don't need the food, they don't eat the food. They'll eat food they normally wouldn't, they'll refuse food they normally wouldn't, etc.. They get fat, they sprout three inches. As they get older, the time it takes between spurts grows, but generally, they're pretty good at demanding when they need, up until they get trained to clean their plate or eat when they're bored, etc..
He's finally started burping when he's supposed to. He was holding out and just getting hiccups.

K is also experimenting with 'no'. I think he's testing reactions. I did discuss briefly with J, today, about how she's going to handle his lying-- because she was convinced that the only reason he would ever start would be because Mj does. Like Mj was taught to lie-- and that's not how lying works. In fact, you're regarded as smarter, the earlier you start lying. It's a survival mechanism. You use it as needed. You do it to avoid getting in trouble, to stay away from negative consequences.

I've said it before, a long time ago, but the way kids are depends almost entirely on who they were from t he beginning. How they react to what they react to. There is nothing that is PURELY nurture. Nor nature, as much as I'd like to think so.

I haven't told him this, but the way he treats his child is a good part of why I wouldn't even want to have M's children. I don't approve of his parenting. I mean, you know, to each their own, and while I don't like the way he treats his kid, that's up to him. It's not mine, I don't get a say. Same with J and K. L, I'm still trying to sense out where I land with that one. It feels a lot like it did with my baby brother. Basically my only concern is that I don't want to become a favorite. I don't want to take that away from the biologicals. I will happily be the cool god-mom/auntie/step-momish figure, but I do not want to be Mom to Jen's Momma. I wouldn't mind being a mother, I don't think, but not now, and not with someone I'm still trying to feel out my place with.
Though, M and J have done nothing to make me feel distant. Quite the contrary, they've been trying to include me in every aspect, and we very certainly have a very real relationship going-- I'm uneasy. I'm not even used to having family laundry anymore. It's been twelve years since I've mixed my laundry in with anyone else's on purpose. (Mostly 'cos if I ever got my laundry in with someone else's, that was the last time I ever saw that item of clothing. My mother and sister had this nasty case of black holes,  being randomly disappearing items that simply vanished because some scattering dust particles that came from the pair landed on the item that disappeared. It was like the Fae followed my family around and waited for them to touch stuff. Sorry. Rambling. It's two AM, at this point.)
The kids, even, have gotten used to me being rather a fixture. I'm even sure they might be sad if they discovered me missing, one day.

I think I might have finally run myself dry on rambling. I was going to talk more about the kids trouble, but really, it's just normal kid stuff. Like, K's attempt to break the Blu-ray player, this morning. He put in two discs at once, and tried to close it, and one was upside down, and I rescued everything, but, you know. Mj lies a lot, K bounces on the couch too close to the baby/person holding baby, etc.. It's normal stuff.

Eh. Now I'm tired. I'm gonna have to get back up and start doing stuff, 'cos the kid's gonna be hungry again in an hour...
Alright. Rest well, non-parents. Lovely babbling at you.

New House!

So, we’re all moved in. Yay!

And my transfer went smoothly, so I’ve been working for the last couple of days at my new department store, though I still have every plan in the world of going somewhere else. The money thing isn’t going too swell, but we’re working on it. I think it’s taking J and M a little more getting used to than me, ‘cos J still gets on craigslist to do random shopping, and they both get a little titchy when they see something they want and the money thing comes up. I don’t think they either of them notice. (Will now that I’ve written that. Or will when I post it.)

Tomorrow, the internet gets turned on, hopefully. J has an appointment to check on L, and his arrival. Which is imminent. Yay! And I work. And then I have to go to my mom’s house and collect shit, and need to get a hold of my aunt’s ex boyfriend thingie and get the dish strainer, and my pillows and… Stuff. Maybe the giant hamper-thingie in the back of Mom’s house. Everything in here is so crowded already, I might skip out on furniture.

We got the washer, today, too. Yay!

We’ve been watching a lot of TV, lately. It’s okay, I suppose. A bunch of movies that are fairly ancient that I haven’t seen, so that’s fun. Yippee.

So, M called me gorgeous the other day, and I contested this, because it annoyed me that he would bother calling me that. And so I said I wasn’t, but then he mentioned later an exercise he heard about, listing reasons one thinks one is attractive. And I had to explain that it wasn’t about that I think I’m ugly. It’s that I think my looks are the least important element of my attractiveness. I have nothing to do with my looks. I don’t put any work into it. With the occasional diet. But anyway, I don’t like the focus on the physical. The question occurred to me, though, the automatic compliment for a girl is about her looks. I mean, I guess you can’t get too much more of an impression, but hell, just wait for me to open my mouth, you’ll get a new one to go with.

But my point was, it’s like, “Hey, great tits.”
“Yes, they are great tits. Can I help you?”
“You have beautiful lips.”
“Yes. Ask me about the scar in them, that’s a good story.”
“I didn’t even notice.” Because it would be assumed that the scar is a bad thing, and as such should be dismissed. You know, like the event that caused it should be dismissed, too, I guess? I don’t know, I like scars. Although, some do have some stupid stories. Cat scratches, a trampoline spring in my case, fell down some stairs, but most of them are pretty good.

But my appearance is one element of a million that makes me attractive, and it’s the least important one to me, because… mostly because I don’t really get to look at me all that much. I think. I don’t know. Just not my favorite thing about me. I’m witty, intelligent, knowledgeable (These are all three different ways to be smart.), literate, thoughtful, a natural handiwoman, physically and mentally powerful, and I can engage in philosophical conversation, and even (especially) drunk, I’m pretty happy, if a little edgy, but that’s just paranoia and there’s nothing for that.

Anyway. K is pretty much used to our new place. J seems to be pretty miserable with the whole L thing, and we’re eagerly awaiting him. K has been a little too hyperactive, lately, because he can’t go outside due to weather suckage. Bloody rain, bloody hot, bloody humid. Two of three. So he’s been hopping and running and jumping and such, and just been so cute and annoying. Right now he’s standing on the end of the couch and falling onto his butt enthusiastically.

I’m going back to former home on Thursday, I suppose, Going to see family friend and grab stuff. J’s appointment and internet tomorrow, and stuff.

Slowly Making Our Way

Hello!
So, massive changes within the last.... since I updated.
First and most massively, we have gotten our prefab family dwelling! We've been moving our stuff into it (I'm trying to help, but my current home-thingie needs me around), and we're slowly developing somewhere to be in it, and we're working on it.
Second, the job situation (for MB, me, specifically) has gotten incredibly complicated because of some beaurocratic BS that I should have known or at least figured, and is in the f*cking way. (Due to my glee in using swear words, but my intentions of making this a 'family oriented' blog, I am editing my words. Sort of. Adults still know, kids will only know if they've heard it before.)

So, story of moving into the prefab trailer first, right?
'cos last week, we were supposed to move in. Last weekend, to be specific, we were supposed to get the keys Friday to one of two places, and we were supposed to be making steady progress with shuffling stuff over.
Now, M has the week off, so really, we were supposed to be done by now.
Unfortunately, one of the places has something wrong with it (we're not sure what) and that would prevent it from being rented for the next month, and I'm not sure what was up with the other one, either. There was a third that came up, and that one was supposed to have been being painted, except that the person that was supposed to be painting it was d*cking around and not getting it done, for whatever reason.
We got sick of waiting, and so M went in and told the people from whom we were to be renting, and said, "PLEASE? J is due any day, now, and we would really like to be established before that happens." And then they asked us if we could cope with previous renter's damage, and we looked, and we can, so now we have the place, and we've already got most of J's and my stuff in (I do have a few items left), but with J being as massively pregnant as she is, she can't move stuff (we won't let her.) and M is pretty much on his own on that matter, because my effin' job crap is being awful.

Okay, that was the first bit of that story.
The second bit is that, while we were viewing the house, we noticed that there isn't a turn-off valve on the toilet.
M mentioned wanting a water-saver.
I decided to install the water-saver, despite the sentence that comes before the fact that M  wanted a water-saver.
I had a moment, there. I did. Just. Brain took a vacation. Or maybe I thought I could handle it. I'm not sure. Either way, it was stupid, I am an idiot.

First, I broke the thingie I was supposed to be replacing.
Then I was trying to figure out how to replace the thingie I broke.
And I was failing horribly. And guessing. And that was bad.
And then we figured, since it's broken, and we can't find the shut-off, we might as fscking well, right?
And then forty days and forty nights of rain broke loose, right?
I flooded the bathroom, the hallway, the entry to the kids' room, and was making way to the living room, before we managed to screw the thing on effing crooked, right?
And so I got it to where at least it was a slow trickle, rather than an attempt to drown everyone (I ruined two phones, neither of which were mine.)  and M and a friend of his/ours helping us move went to find the valve.
Which, by the way, is about fifty feet from our unit.

So, we got it fixed. After.... Eh. Two hours of uncontrolled water flow, maybe three, maybe even four, it felt like days....

It was horrible.
And I have learned my lesson.

Anyway. We have a place, now. Yay! I have sworn not to break the other toilet.
We took our first shower in there, and that wasn't bad at all, and the cuddling was rather wonderful, and I liked sleeping there, except that I was in the middle of an asthma attack that I did not know about until after both of my mates complained that I had disturbed them in their moments of wakefulness (which reminds me, totally need another treatment, wtf.), and I liked the place. I am trying to transition to calling it home. I am mostly succeeding.

K didn't seem to mind at all that that's where we live, now. He did seem to have a problem wrapping his brain around it, but there are so many things I can think of that indicate trouble, and he displayed none of them. He did ask to go home, but he seemed pretty okay with the place being his new home.

Reminds me-- I wasn't with my mates, weekend before last, and the kids asked where I was. That's such a warm fuzzy feeling. "Where [MB]?"

So. We made it through what I thought of as a major distaster caused directly by my actions caused directly by neglect to attention (as I called it a while back), and I've been forgiven (Yay for exhaustion-induced delirium?), and I'm still welcome there. This is heartwarming and reassuring and a bunch of other warm fuzzy words.

I don't get to live there until next Wednesday, though. I was supposed to give at least a week's written notice to work to use them as a reference, and I failed to do so. Because I figured the rumor to want to transfer was enough. I was wrong. In fact, I thought that since I was transferring, it wouldn't count as quitting.

I'm still trying to decide if I want to call out on Friday.

Thanks for reading!
-MB

First Steps

Confirmed location to move. It's feeling like that moment at the top of the big hill to start off the roller coaster. Hanging onto my seat and lungs filled to scream, now.
And closet empty and I need to figure out how to get all my gigantic amounts of crap into my tiny car and try not to hyperventilate.
And change my address. I already called to transfer the job place thing. And explained to baby brother. And stuff.
Oh boy.

Secondly...

Hello again.
There were a few elements in the last post that I left out, because it needed enough in depth explanation that I felt that it deserved its own post.
Like the complexities of the polyamorous relationship and what it means and does not mean.

First of all, it isn't cheating. Cheating is a dishonest practice in which you have more than one lover without the permission of one or more lover.

It is not swinging. Swinging is having multiple sex partners without having multiple relationships. This is generally agreed upon as an acceptable behavior.
I just read the term polyfuckery, which is when one claims to be polyamorous, mostly to get into bed with other polyamorous people, and without any sort of emotional bond.

It's not a three-way. That's just sex.

It is a relationship. And if you've ever had a relationship, you should know what that means-- all the drama and crazy and emotions and feelings and communication necessary. It's nuts.

There are many kinds of polyamorous relationships. In ours, it is a triad. This means there are three of us, all of whom are romantically involved with the other two.
In our case, it means that there are four relationships to maintain at all times.
J+M; J+MB; MB+M; J+M+MB
We've established that there should always be open and honest communication between all three of us. One of the rules I've found someone else stating is that if you don't want to tell your others, you should tell your others.

I think the biggest source of confusion to people that have not seen, nor participated, in a polyamorous relationship feels that it's not a relationship. Especially in the cases of hinged relationships (where one has two partners who have nothing to do with one another, also called a V), or N where there are four people who have two partners each, and I'm sure there are people who have some W going on or a hell of a fork going.
And personally, I think that's much better than cheating, or affairs, or serial monogamy, where you dump one and get a new one  the next week because the shiny wore off.

I've only had one relationship before, and that was monogamous and always long-distance, so I admit I'm no authority on anything romance. In fact, that's something I'm rather enjoying about the polyamory with the partners I've chosen-- there are two of them, with two very different styles and tastes and I can test out what I like and don't like with each of them. He's very much more sexual and energetic and dominant, whereas she's sensual and passionate and doesn't take command so much. The only problem I'm having so far is that I'm a sarcastic shithead, and I'm meaner than I intend a lot.

M and J are engaged to be married, eventually. There's been talk of semi-marrying me (no legal, obviously, but I could write a will to allow them to make my funeral and hospital decisions), but as aforementioned, they're the priority, until I am more established in the relationship.
However, I'm no less committed than they are, and I have no intention of bailing on the relationship, either. I am Second Wife only because I appeared second.
It is a valid, real relationship. It will have all the dynamics of one and more because there are more elements at play, with more pieces and players and thoughts and feelings.
So wish us luck. We'll need that.

First Things First

Hello.
I'm M.B.
I've recently joined an afianced couple, to become their third and begin our polyamorous relationship. I'm a unicorn. Which is the colloquial term for a person, usually female, who is willing to be exclusively romantic and/or sexual with both members of a dyad.
For the sake of their children and any future careers the three of us might persue, I'm going to abbreviate names to J (wife), K (J's first child), L (J's and M's first child together and second child to each, who is yet to be born), M (husband), and Mj (M's first child.)

Yes, J, K, L, M, Mj, and MB. Right? It makes me smile. So many M's.

I suppose this blog will be about the interpersonal connections, family life, solutions to the problems that turn up, and just in general slice of life. And also very poorly ordered, because I'm very bad about thinking in jagged shards of everywhere. 

 I called the blog Cellular Polyfidelity because a cellular family is a vernacular term for a three-or-more adult family. The term is based around nuclear family (two adults and their children), and polyfidelity is faith to all the members of the relationship.

But since this is the beginning, and we seem to be headed into fairly uncharted territories, and my nature is one of a thinker and a writer, I chose to start the blog. I am later going to attempt to get both the adults in on it, and maybe even the children once they learn to read and write and type. If they won't post, I'll definitely get data and permission to share aforementioned data.

I'll let them post how they feel about polyamory themselves and let them decide to say why exactly they were looking for a third, or ask permission later, but for me-- polyamory's always just made so much sense to me. The extra help alone with children and money and cooking and cleaning and errands and-- just life in general-- seems like it would be very useful, and that's not to mention that you can get some things from some people (certain kinds of emotional support, sexual favors, someone to talk about the other person with) that you can't from a single mate.

For the initial contact... For the three of us, it was an accident, really. We met on fetlife, a fetishist social media site, where one can post all kinds of pictures and fictions and meet all kinds of people from all sorts of lifestyles. It's mostly BDSM-related, but there are furries, transsexuals, transvestites, asexual, genderqueer, polyamorous, monogamous,
The two of them had been together for about a year, and had been not-very-intentionally seeking a third. I'll ask if they want to announce the reasons later.

I have some erotica (okay, fine, porn) I've written and posted onto my page, the quality of which M appreciated.
And so he messaged me to talk to me about it, and he and I started to write back and forth. I expressed some interest, as did he (after I started it, I confess. I'm a horrible flirt.), and then I contacted J, because that's a part of the rules in my book (you don't hit on one member of a couple without hitting on the other one!), and I quickly won her attention, too. (Again, didn't realize how strong I was coming on, but I wouldn't change it upon retrospect.)

And within... say... two weeks? I think, of initial contact with M, they invited me over for the weekend, basically to be a first date.

The weekend was lovely. The bonding happened quickly and easily, even the kids got used to me quickly, and I learned a lot about them each, in their habits and their parenting methods and who they are. And so far, it has only gotten more intense and more wonderful.
I returned the following weekend, and the next one, and I brought her home with me (we still live apart), and we've started to take action to live together. We're hoping to establish a spot where I won't have to couch monkey soon.
They call me Second Wife (because she has a woman she's been calling her wife since second grade or something). And we're working on what the kids can call me. I think we've decided on Ima, which is Yiddish for 'mother', and doesn't sound too much like Mom.

At first I was rather ambiguous about joining the relationship. First of all, it was a commitment that I couldn't take lightly. due to the children.
And then M went to a girl's house and I got territorial, and when I get territorial, I determine it's time to put up or shut up.

We've determined that we're closed. (there are a lot of things that can also be used to call us what we are; exclusive, polyfidelitous, 'fluid bound', a series of other things.) Closed poly, being that there are the three of us and only the three of us. (Also the two point five kids.)

We're working on moving in together, and then, hopefully, the adventure will really begin.
Thanks for stopping by. Take care.