Yesterday I was mad because my body has to be sliced and diced to get babies here and for me to be able to recover. I am still kind of mad. And I don’t want any of you to take this personally, but I get really mad when people have perfect pregnancies, deliver with minimal pain, have no ripping and than have a huge swooning of love for their baby. Probably because this is not how it happens for me, and I hate that it could be that way. I hate the way things have transpired for me, and I keep thinking, “If only…”
So today in honor of taking my mind somewhere else, I give you other peoples videos of Disneyland vacations.
I am already planning the next vacation. I am thinking next March. Anyone want to come and meet us there?
I have been feeling a bit violent lately. Poor JJ.
Not that I actually do anything violent except try to throw up.
But I threaten it. Poor JJ.
All through Sunday School yesterday I threatened to punch him. He would look over at me and I had a beady little fist ready for his eyeball. I kept telling him I was going to punch him. He told me he was going to move away from me. I told him if he did I would punch him.
I think the violence is more of a frustration thing coming to a head. The thing that is in me that is making me be on bed rest is not getting better and not getting worse. What does that mean? Um. Laying in bed made it not get worse. Or better. Which makes me think that that was a waste of time? And I should have watched better movies or read better books. Or I should have just exercised because it probably would be the same.
Anyway, the update. The kid looks like Skeletor, but the ex-ray tech said it looks girly. Whatever. Skeletor looks girly with a bow and some lipstick. So does this guy I dated in high school. Ha.
Also, the doctor said I could start doing things again. So I went to Ikea and did a lap. And pulled weeds and looked at the ring of slime in my toilets. I am not doing that. The stink. Is repulsive. I should do it anyway.
And the thing is, if I loose this baby, I loose this baby. And that is the way it was supposed to be. But I have tried to do all I can. I have done what the mid-wives online say. I have done what my doctor says. I have done what I am supposed to have done. There is nothing more I can do and so I just have to put it in the Lords hands and let it be his will.
So being on bed rest gets old quick. In my time in bed I have started to notice that a lot of the court tv that is on in the afternoon is rerun and rerun and rerun. Today had a gem of the American language.
A couple was seeking divorce. The judge asked the opposing parties what they do to make money. The husband is a poet/aspiring play write. Meaning unemployed. The judge than asked the woman what she does to support her family of 10 children ages 9-19.
“I does hair.”
“You do hair?”
“Yes, I does.”
If I was a poet I would also seek a divorce from the hair stylist.
