So, I hit my second trimester a few weeks back. Freaky, right? Time just seems to have fallen in on itself and decided to race past me. I hear that’s what parenthood is like, a blur, a constant rush on the brink of mad panic to protect someone who’s defenseless. I still don’t know how I feel about that- being ‘mommy’. I know that I love my baby, a son, who I’m supposedly going to name after my AWOL father. He’s visible now, a very neat and tiny bump, but this isn’t really a surprise- I was never a large girl anyway. It was only a matter of time…
Keith Evan Reigh
I just hope my dad is as worthy a namesake as Evan. Evan is my hero, my idol. I’ve never told him this, and I don’t think I ever could, it’d make me cringe to do it. You see, I’ve always been massively jealous of Evan, moreso when we were younger. He could always do everything quicker and better than me first try. Though he did have the advantage of age, my aunts wasted no time reminding me that he had learned it all, in his time, much earlier than I had. But it’s more than his status as uber-powerful manwitch that makes him a guy I’ll always look up to. Evan is the only member of my family I can honestly say has ever loved me, or been loved in return for me. I’m really not into the whole tearful confessions and ‘I was never loved’ crap. That’s bullshit. But Evan is the least bullshit thing in my life, or was, for a long, long time. His strength in the face of adversity, his unconditional love and his example are something I’ll definately use when I’m raising my boy. Evan is my rolemodel now, I only hope my son will follow in his footsteps sooner rather than later, before my baby ends up like me. And I hope, more than anything, my dad (who I’m pretty sure my mom has been lying through her teeth about) is as good an example of a REAL man as Evan.
With Dempsey? That was his name, right? Out of the picture now… Not that he was ever really in it. My baby is fatherless, or so it seemed, until about a week ago. I should probably explain that recently, ironically around Valentine’s Day, a new guy came into my life. He’s a Cupid called Alexander Scott. “Xander”. Which is massively fucked up, since it kind of means he can never be around much, and that I’m “supposed” to fall in love with him because of his golden arrow. We tried to get physical, I think the fact the moment was disrupted every time is a sign. We’ll wait, we’ll get to know eachother… He’ll father my boy. Or so he says, and I thought it’d be great, at the time he was mortal- pending trial for falling in love with me and neglecting his duties- but now they’ve called him back and I haven’t seen him in… Well, what seems like forever. He’s a bit effeminate, very blonde, chiseled abs… I’m a little dissapointed he doesn’t wear a diaper. But I think I could love him, if I give in to my stubborness, I think I could.
Life is insane right now. I need to tell my bosses I’m pregnant, tell my mother I’m pregnant (OhHellOhHellOhHellOhFuckFuckFuck) and find a dad I’ve never met… And I’m pretty sure my mother will object to that, finding my father. I’m also pretty sure she could magickally kick me and baby Keith into the middle of next week.
Fuck.
