This is just a warning that NaBloPoMo is coming. Yeah, like I said. Go ahead and try to annunciate it like I did. I'll wait........ ha! It's an acronym! Roughtly translated it means "write your ass off in November". And I'm gonna try too so you just be prepared!
Also, I updated my blogroll over there -------------->
It funny how you drift back and forth to a few sites and then in another direction all together sometimes. Just thought I'd keep you updated on that too.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
My Dreams Need an Exorcism
I was too nervous to pee this morning. Yeah, I know! I had to pee in a cup so I could use some extremely generic brand pregnancy test to test my own urine. I then had to build up the courage to not look at the thing for 60 whole seconds. It was negative. Praise. The. Lord. I do not know what I would have done if it would have been positive. But my subconscious brain does.
For two weeks now I have plagued by horrible nightmares. Not of the 'zombie or gone to work naked' variety either. The 'I'm carrying a fetus in my womb' variety. You think that isn't so bad, I know you, but for me it's pure panic in REM. You see when I was first pregnant with my lil bugger my dream told me so. I had said dream the night I should have started my period. In real life I didn't even notice it hadn't started. Really, who's got time to mark this type of shit on a calendar. So I go to bed none the wiser. My internal biological clock however just couldn't wait to ruin that for me!
(chimey music/cut to flash back)....I show up at work and I go outside on break with my two work buds and they are gossiping as usual and one of them turns to me and says "Oh my gosh, guess who's pregnant? I heard someone missed their period". And I'm all "Who?" And they both stare at me. *blink* *blink* Dead stares.
[oh, yeah that was the dream. In case you couldn't tell]
So, I wake up and go to the loo for my top 'o the mornin piss and pull out a spare pregnancy test from the back of cabinet. Everyone has one of those right? From the last time you had a scare and you bought a three pack? Well, whatever I do. So I pee on it and set it on the counter and proceed to turn on the shower and whatnot. (Can you tell I was totally expecting another negative?) And I look back at the bitch on the counter there and holy, fuck no, mother of a cow in my bathroom, there's two lines. Clear as day, two lines. I took my shower as usual and processed the information.
Anyway, I digress. The point is: the dreams, they came back. Except... I've been on stuff since after the kid was born and my doctor said it was OK to be on stuff so that this whole 'pregnant thing' didn't happen again. You know what I mean? But the dreams! And then I think about that poor unlucky bunch of mom who are on that 1%. You know the other part of the 99% effective group. Sonofabitch. So after being plagued by these nightly glimpses of pregnant me. Very surreal, real life, dream version of pregnant me, I break down and buy the test.
That was the worst thing I could have done. I wish my non-psychic husband would have just went and bought the damn thing and surprised me in the morning because it was a most tortuous night waiting to get up and pee. I contemplated getting out of bed at 5:00 when I rolled over but noooooooo, I had to nod back off and have another nightmare first.
For two weeks now I have plagued by horrible nightmares. Not of the 'zombie or gone to work naked' variety either. The 'I'm carrying a fetus in my womb' variety. You think that isn't so bad, I know you, but for me it's pure panic in REM. You see when I was first pregnant with my lil bugger my dream told me so. I had said dream the night I should have started my period. In real life I didn't even notice it hadn't started. Really, who's got time to mark this type of shit on a calendar. So I go to bed none the wiser. My internal biological clock however just couldn't wait to ruin that for me!
(chimey music/cut to flash back)....I show up at work and I go outside on break with my two work buds and they are gossiping as usual and one of them turns to me and says "Oh my gosh, guess who's pregnant? I heard someone missed their period". And I'm all "Who?" And they both stare at me. *blink* *blink* Dead stares.
[oh, yeah that was the dream. In case you couldn't tell]
So, I wake up and go to the loo for my top 'o the mornin piss and pull out a spare pregnancy test from the back of cabinet. Everyone has one of those right? From the last time you had a scare and you bought a three pack? Well, whatever I do. So I pee on it and set it on the counter and proceed to turn on the shower and whatnot. (Can you tell I was totally expecting another negative?) And I look back at the bitch on the counter there and holy, fuck no, mother of a cow in my bathroom, there's two lines. Clear as day, two lines. I took my shower as usual and processed the information.
Anyway, I digress. The point is: the dreams, they came back. Except... I've been on stuff since after the kid was born and my doctor said it was OK to be on stuff so that this whole 'pregnant thing' didn't happen again. You know what I mean? But the dreams! And then I think about that poor unlucky bunch of mom who are on that 1%. You know the other part of the 99% effective group. Sonofabitch. So after being plagued by these nightly glimpses of pregnant me. Very surreal, real life, dream version of pregnant me, I break down and buy the test.
That was the worst thing I could have done. I wish my non-psychic husband would have just went and bought the damn thing and surprised me in the morning because it was a most tortuous night waiting to get up and pee. I contemplated getting out of bed at 5:00 when I rolled over but noooooooo, I had to nod back off and have another nightmare first.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
The Story of 3:00AM
That can't be good. It's never a good sign when you wake up from having confused nightmares about work. With a headache. A headache so bad you don't even have to open your eyes or move your head from your pillow to feel. Please go back to sleep baby girl, please. I know she won't, she rarely does. I act like I'm still sleeping. It's not fair, it rarely it but I have to be up for work again in a few hours and my head, my damn head just hurts so bad. Why is she awake again.
He crawls out of bed. Silence. Finally silence. He crawls back in to bed. Ahhhh, that was easy. She's crying again. I get nudged. So that's what it feels like. It's my turn to go tame the dragon. As soon as I walk in to the room the crying becomes more panicked, she's seen me, she's afraid I'm going to leave the room again. I try the usual. It doesn't work. I start to ponder the possibilities for this night of unrest but the list and the tactics I'd implore are too long. I just don't have it in me. My head hurts. I grab her and fall in to the spare bed. Here little girl, you get your way tonight.
I draw her close to me and she's oh so quiet as she nurses herself back to sleep. I think about how I'll wake up for work with no alarm clock. I think about her psyche. Am I spoiling her by not making her self soothe? Work this one out yourself kiddo, Mommy's got to lay in bed and be tormented by your scream. No, she'll be fine. We'll be fine. We've got sleep to attend to right now. Too busy to worry. Night baby girl.
He crawls out of bed. Silence. Finally silence. He crawls back in to bed. Ahhhh, that was easy. She's crying again. I get nudged. So that's what it feels like. It's my turn to go tame the dragon. As soon as I walk in to the room the crying becomes more panicked, she's seen me, she's afraid I'm going to leave the room again. I try the usual. It doesn't work. I start to ponder the possibilities for this night of unrest but the list and the tactics I'd implore are too long. I just don't have it in me. My head hurts. I grab her and fall in to the spare bed. Here little girl, you get your way tonight.
I draw her close to me and she's oh so quiet as she nurses herself back to sleep. I think about how I'll wake up for work with no alarm clock. I think about her psyche. Am I spoiling her by not making her self soothe? Work this one out yourself kiddo, Mommy's got to lay in bed and be tormented by your scream. No, she'll be fine. We'll be fine. We've got sleep to attend to right now. Too busy to worry. Night baby girl.
Friday, September 28, 2007
I'm Sorry, I Have Selfish Pride
Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy? Oh, why am I a selfish assbag sometimes? Or any of us for that matter. I did something the other night that still blows my mind. And I did it!
I was a snotty rude bitch to my new husband. And I didn't apologize. Oh, it's okay, you're saying. It happens sometimes that spouses forget to say sorry. You'd be right, it does. But I was more pig headed than that. I refused to apologize. I actually said, out loud "I don't offer apologies in this house, you should know that". I can feel your collective internet shock as I type this. How could she be so crass? That's a good question. It was stupid. I accused him of having the debit card and he said no he didn't and I said yes you do and he said well go check in your purse cause I don't have it. And so I did. And it was. And then he had the nerve to say to me "I'll take that apology now". That really pissed me off for some reason. I don't exactly know why, but him saying that pushed a button.
It brought back the old days when my mom would force me to apologize to my sister after I did something and I would sulk and growl and manage to push out a weak, barely inaudible "I'm sorry" to her. And then Mom would say 'like you mean it!' and and she would get and even louder angrier "I'm sorry I hit you!" (or stole your toy, or pulled your hair, or whatever, you fill in the blank). And ever since then I have never, never been good at apologies. I suck at them, they are hard for me, it's like pulling teeth. I sulk and mumble 'sorry' to this day and I hope that those who know me just know that I am sorry and I mean it but something, call it selfish pride, or childhood trauma prevents me from issuing that really well needed apology. And Brandon? He's great at it. When we fight he always comes to me afterward with the best apologies. You know, the kind that really make me forgive him. Cause he was an ass and now he's sorry and he told me so. Wow. How does he do that. My sister? I still remember her apologies the best. She was snuggle up to me with adoration and guilt in her eyes and say "I'm sorry sissy". And she was and my mom didn't have to force her to tell me so. Over the years we reduced our apologies to a simple "my bad" and it was implied.
I should have the common sense by now to know that I am going to cause some major issues in our relationship unless I learn to bite the bullet and fess up. "I'm sorry I accused you of having the debit card honey." See, that was one sentence that could have saved a huge fight! Why didn't I just say it? What's funny is that the next day after I've lived with the guilt I'd caused my self, I came home to apologize and I tried, I really did, but I thought no. Too much time has passed, it's not even a big deal anymore. But I don't know deeply I was shitting my self. Is it ever to late to say I'm sorry?
Yesterday we had another spat. And I was mad. BUT......I cooled down and I went up to him and I said "I'm sorry we fought". Hmf. It was close right. It had the right words. Right? Listen people, that was hard enough for me to do! Next time (maybe, just maybe) I will do it right. But for now it's a start and I hope it doesn't go unnoticed that I apologized. Because I want to be wrong. I do say sorry in this house. And from now on, you should know that.
I was a snotty rude bitch to my new husband. And I didn't apologize. Oh, it's okay, you're saying. It happens sometimes that spouses forget to say sorry. You'd be right, it does. But I was more pig headed than that. I refused to apologize. I actually said, out loud "I don't offer apologies in this house, you should know that". I can feel your collective internet shock as I type this. How could she be so crass? That's a good question. It was stupid. I accused him of having the debit card and he said no he didn't and I said yes you do and he said well go check in your purse cause I don't have it. And so I did. And it was. And then he had the nerve to say to me "I'll take that apology now". That really pissed me off for some reason. I don't exactly know why, but him saying that pushed a button.
It brought back the old days when my mom would force me to apologize to my sister after I did something and I would sulk and growl and manage to push out a weak, barely inaudible "I'm sorry" to her. And then Mom would say 'like you mean it!' and and she would get and even louder angrier "I'm sorry I hit you!" (or stole your toy, or pulled your hair, or whatever, you fill in the blank). And ever since then I have never, never been good at apologies. I suck at them, they are hard for me, it's like pulling teeth. I sulk and mumble 'sorry' to this day and I hope that those who know me just know that I am sorry and I mean it but something, call it selfish pride, or childhood trauma prevents me from issuing that really well needed apology. And Brandon? He's great at it. When we fight he always comes to me afterward with the best apologies. You know, the kind that really make me forgive him. Cause he was an ass and now he's sorry and he told me so. Wow. How does he do that. My sister? I still remember her apologies the best. She was snuggle up to me with adoration and guilt in her eyes and say "I'm sorry sissy". And she was and my mom didn't have to force her to tell me so. Over the years we reduced our apologies to a simple "my bad" and it was implied.
I should have the common sense by now to know that I am going to cause some major issues in our relationship unless I learn to bite the bullet and fess up. "I'm sorry I accused you of having the debit card honey." See, that was one sentence that could have saved a huge fight! Why didn't I just say it? What's funny is that the next day after I've lived with the guilt I'd caused my self, I came home to apologize and I tried, I really did, but I thought no. Too much time has passed, it's not even a big deal anymore. But I don't know deeply I was shitting my self. Is it ever to late to say I'm sorry?
Yesterday we had another spat. And I was mad. BUT......I cooled down and I went up to him and I said "I'm sorry we fought". Hmf. It was close right. It had the right words. Right? Listen people, that was hard enough for me to do! Next time (maybe, just maybe) I will do it right. But for now it's a start and I hope it doesn't go unnoticed that I apologized. Because I want to be wrong. I do say sorry in this house. And from now on, you should know that.
Numero Uno!
My baby is one year old! Wow. I mean, wow! I've said it like 20 times today but I'll say it once more. Where did this last year go? Do they all go this fast?
I wish I had a nice picture of her today on her birthday to post. Unfortunately, I wasn't that 'on the ball' this morning. Heck, I wish I could say I even remembered it was her birthday this morning. Not that I forgot but I was more excited for Sunday when I get to watch her play with her cake. No, it was a good 10 minutes in to her morning breakfast that it dawned on me. My one year old baby. Wow.
I'm speechless. Savor it bitches.
I wish I could post a picture or too, but I'll have to wait. Wish us luck on the whole cake in the face thing!
I wish I had a nice picture of her today on her birthday to post. Unfortunately, I wasn't that 'on the ball' this morning. Heck, I wish I could say I even remembered it was her birthday this morning. Not that I forgot but I was more excited for Sunday when I get to watch her play with her cake. No, it was a good 10 minutes in to her morning breakfast that it dawned on me. My one year old baby. Wow.
I'm speechless. Savor it bitches.
I wish I could post a picture or too, but I'll have to wait. Wish us luck on the whole cake in the face thing!
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Hellooooo Waa-keen!
Have you seen the commercial for this movie yet? Well........ lets just say I have and goodbye Brad Pritt. Hello Joaquin Phoenix.
Okay, this is the only decent shot I could find of him in that flick
http://imdb.com/gallery/ss/0498399/WEOWNTN_DOMPK_03_010.jpg.html?seq=17
(yeah, I know links sucks but for some reason I can't upload it from here at work. I know. I'm lame. Who blogs at work right? Well sorrrrrrrryyy)
Anyway, I've always thought of him as a cutie. Think Signs with Mel Gibson. Cute, right? But then when I saw that trailer and he was all gansta hott, I dunno, but he looks better now. (And yes I purred in front of the TV with hubby next to me because if he can drool all over the TV when Angelina is on so can I) (and need I even mention her last name? What is it with her and every man alive? I mean she's not that hot) (OK, maybe she is a little hot, but c'mon, she's overrated by now. Has to be.)
Have you ever seen so many parenthesis?
So anyway, I go to IMDB to check him out and omigosh, are they a bunch of stalkers. I mean I read his bio and I feel just dirty and nosey now. Ick. Poor man with no privacy. Who even wants to know so much. (on the other hand if like ever met him in real life I would prolly be forced to stalk him too. Not the point, just saying) Did you know his brother in law is Casey Affleck?
Also, I once met this man, while he was filming this movie. AND, yes, I do have a picture to prove it. My mother had the photo lab enlarge it to poster size and I have to keep it rolled up in a tube. Thought it's in storage since it's 10 years old now and therefore I can't show you.
Okay, this is the only decent shot I could find of him in that flick
http://imdb.com/gallery/ss/0498399/WEOWNTN_DOMPK_03_010.jpg.html?seq=17
(yeah, I know links sucks but for some reason I can't upload it from here at work. I know. I'm lame. Who blogs at work right? Well sorrrrrrrryyy)
Anyway, I've always thought of him as a cutie. Think Signs with Mel Gibson. Cute, right? But then when I saw that trailer and he was all gansta hott, I dunno, but he looks better now. (And yes I purred in front of the TV with hubby next to me because if he can drool all over the TV when Angelina is on so can I) (and need I even mention her last name? What is it with her and every man alive? I mean she's not that hot) (OK, maybe she is a little hot, but c'mon, she's overrated by now. Has to be.)
Have you ever seen so many parenthesis?
So anyway, I go to IMDB to check him out and omigosh, are they a bunch of stalkers. I mean I read his bio and I feel just dirty and nosey now. Ick. Poor man with no privacy. Who even wants to know so much. (on the other hand if like ever met him in real life I would prolly be forced to stalk him too. Not the point, just saying) Did you know his brother in law is Casey Affleck?
Also, I once met this man, while he was filming this movie. AND, yes, I do have a picture to prove it. My mother had the photo lab enlarge it to poster size and I have to keep it rolled up in a tube. Thought it's in storage since it's 10 years old now and therefore I can't show you.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Procrastination: pro·cras·ti·nate
1. A similar experience to masturbation, it feels good while you're doing it, but it sucks afterwards when you realize that you just fucked yourself.
(thanks urban dictionary!)
Ugh, I suck at this. Honestly, I don't know why I thought an online journal would be any different than the regular one I have that collects dust and gets written in once a year. No seriously, I wrote once last year even though my intention was to chronicle my pregnancy. I have always been a procrastinator. It's a family joke. I was even born 3 weeks late. Ask my Mom, she had to beat me with in inches of my life to get me to do anything. I sure hope my kid doesn't inherit that trait.
Anyway, the wedding was great (if you don't count the part where our DJ was a no show), and the vacation was nice (if you forget the colds we got and the ball busting heat) and the weather when we got home, well lets not mix words. It was shitty. We went from a lovely 95 degrees to 55 degrees and raining. Ick.
Damn, I had so much saved up that I was going to blog about. F'real, I was busting at the seams. Now that I am here I have stage fright or something and it is all gone.
Oh, but go and read Y (here) cause she stole the words out my blog last week and I commented (which I usu don't do) to tell her how much I empathized. This reminded me (like I could forget) that my Dad bought me a copy of that hit best-selling book "YOU on a diet". Yeah, not exactly the summer reader I would have hoped for but it is a best-seller. I tried not to take it as a cruel hint. I tried to take it in the spirit in which it was intended. You know like 'I love you and I want to see you healthy so you can live a long joyous life doing physical activities with your daughter' and not the 'here, loose some weight fat ass' gut punch that it felt like. However, after viewing our wedding photos and crying profusely at my desk, at work, because there is not one shot that I like enough to see past the fat I promptly started reading said book. So far, it is a surprisingly good book. Am I applying any of it? Hell no. What is wrong with me. I know all the facts. I know I need to be healthy. I know I need to get there, to drop a few pounds, to regain my positive self image, but it's like I'm being defiant to myself. Some inner mega battle ensues between my belly and my brain and...well...guess which one wins.
So yeah, anyway Baby Bug's birthday is quickly approaching and we have no plans and no where to go and I am so OVER planning crap. I'm also not in the least bit excited. Is that normal? Complete fear of one's first child's first birthday? Oh good, I'm not a dependant loser Mom. Cool.
1. A similar experience to masturbation, it feels good while you're doing it, but it sucks afterwards when you realize that you just fucked yourself.
(thanks urban dictionary!)
Ugh, I suck at this. Honestly, I don't know why I thought an online journal would be any different than the regular one I have that collects dust and gets written in once a year. No seriously, I wrote once last year even though my intention was to chronicle my pregnancy. I have always been a procrastinator. It's a family joke. I was even born 3 weeks late. Ask my Mom, she had to beat me with in inches of my life to get me to do anything. I sure hope my kid doesn't inherit that trait.
Anyway, the wedding was great (if you don't count the part where our DJ was a no show), and the vacation was nice (if you forget the colds we got and the ball busting heat) and the weather when we got home, well lets not mix words. It was shitty. We went from a lovely 95 degrees to 55 degrees and raining. Ick.
Damn, I had so much saved up that I was going to blog about. F'real, I was busting at the seams. Now that I am here I have stage fright or something and it is all gone.
Oh, but go and read Y (here) cause she stole the words out my blog last week and I commented (which I usu don't do) to tell her how much I empathized. This reminded me (like I could forget) that my Dad bought me a copy of that hit best-selling book "YOU on a diet". Yeah, not exactly the summer reader I would have hoped for but it is a best-seller. I tried not to take it as a cruel hint. I tried to take it in the spirit in which it was intended. You know like 'I love you and I want to see you healthy so you can live a long joyous life doing physical activities with your daughter' and not the 'here, loose some weight fat ass' gut punch that it felt like. However, after viewing our wedding photos and crying profusely at my desk, at work, because there is not one shot that I like enough to see past the fat I promptly started reading said book. So far, it is a surprisingly good book. Am I applying any of it? Hell no. What is wrong with me. I know all the facts. I know I need to be healthy. I know I need to get there, to drop a few pounds, to regain my positive self image, but it's like I'm being defiant to myself. Some inner mega battle ensues between my belly and my brain and...well...guess which one wins.
So yeah, anyway Baby Bug's birthday is quickly approaching and we have no plans and no where to go and I am so OVER planning crap. I'm also not in the least bit excited. Is that normal? Complete fear of one's first child's first birthday? Oh good, I'm not a dependant loser Mom. Cool.
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