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.