So here's where things stand:
I'm in the body of a seventeen-year-old girl.
I have a baby daughter to look after, sore breasts, bags under my eyes and Girl!B.O.
I'm stuck in some one-horse North Carolina town.
All this hair on my head is bottling in the heat something fierce.
I possess knowledge that could upend an entire industry, but I have to be very careful what I do with it, because those involved have proven they're willing to go to extreme lengths to protect themselves. We already know what happened when I started getting close, next time could be anything from a major legal battle to murder, and that's all assuming I can convince anyone to publish the story if and when it's written.
And the original owner of this body/name/life is nowhere to be found, not that we'll be able to switch back until next year at the earliest.
It's been hard for me to find time to post here, for reasons that should be obvious. I'm usually pretty preoccupied, and there are too many people around anyway. If I spend too much time on the family laptop it raises questions. Scrolling through the phone is more Kiara's speed -- and it's not like it's impossible to write a blog from there, but it's very hard to get the kind of focus I need to write.
In my last post, a week and a half ago but seemingly a lifetime, I was introduced to Kiara's mom, Jen, and her daughter Sienna, as well as their dogs Casper and Carly. If that was all who was in the house, it would be plenty, but the place is more full than that. Kiara is the oldest of 4, with 15-year-old Cerie, 10-year-old brother Maddox, and 8-year-old Aura. I haven't exactly been able to have sit-down interviews with all of them, but I have gathered that Kiara and Cerie are full siblings and Maddox and Aura were from a different relationship. I'm not judging, that's just the way it goes for some people. The kids seem nice, but, you know, I never did have much of a rapport with youngsters. They're being raised, to varying degrees, but phones and tablets.
Also living under this roof is Jen's mom Kelly, Kiara's grandmother who is a little bit younger than my own mother, and her mother Enid, who is bedridden in the back room. That's five generations under the room of one cramped, hot, exurban house.
When Kiara disappeared, I don't even think Jen and Kelly were mad or confused. They seemed to have a lot of sympathy for why a girl of 17 would want to pick up and run away from her one big responsibility in life. That doesn't mean they were happy about it, only that when I returned, it was sort of unspoken that Kiara had gotten it out of her system and was ready to take up motherhood again. If only. In the meantime they were absolutely prepared to fill in for me and look after the kid.
I don't know whether Kiara left of her own accord, was tricked, targeted, bargained, or what. I don't know if she's trying to come back or if it makes a difference if she were. But, I have it on good authority she's in an adult body, likely female, so it's not like she's fully without means.
Not that any of it matters. All of that has taken a backseat to the unending cycle of feeding, burping, pooping, changing and napping, with crying sprinkled throughout (mostly her, sometimes me.) Some days, when the heat isn't too oppressive, I load her up and wheel her down to the coffee shop where I order a decaf and try to do some research, until she starts crying and I have to turn my focus to her. Jen and Kelly are available to assist, but I'd just as soon not after the major solid they did their daughter during my absence, and plus, asking for them to step in usually invites questions about what, exactly, I'm doing that will be so important.
It's clear that I can't simply barrel ahead with my agenda. There are too many distractions in life, I need to figure out a rhythm that works.
We've also been talking about what, exactly, I'm going to do about school in the fall, and let me tell you, walking around a high school in the body of a teen mom does not excite me.
The whole lot of us, plus Jen's boyfriend Travis, went to a big cookout for the Fourth. I was not exactly enthused to be there and kept to myself. Actually, I ended up chatting with a bunch of other moms -- most of whom were age-appropriate -- which proved enlightening. More, it was reassuring to find out that even people who wanted this have problems with their kid. Made me feel a little less... drowning and helpless. Food was good, too.
Last but not least, I had Kiara's period for her the week after my last post. It wasn't as traumatic as I thought it would be -- the worst parts, the cramping and aches, came on sneakily so that I didn't realize what was going on, and when I finally got my "visitor" it was more like "Oh, I see." I would not recommend.
-Tom
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