Quiet Morning

Friday, June 15, 2012

A bird or two is singing. Cars are driving by. The sky is still dark. I wish I had slept in. But I was so hot, and Karl does hog the bed, and when you are 33 weeks pregnant, you pretty much always need to go to the bathroom.

I wonder if my recent night sweats are pregnancy related or related to the lump in my throat. I hesitate to put that, because I don't want people thinking I am some weak-minded sissy sitting in fear imagining my death.

I research. People do get lumps in their throats. Hodgkins disease? Who knows? But I do know it's quite treatable and not such a big deal in these modern times. Probably not even a big enough to deal to score pity charity work from others (like cleaning my house and cooking meals-I do hate to cook).
Eh, the nurse didn't seem concerned at my appointment in March. And one lump that's just sitting there, not growing not spreading. How boring. Also, wouldn't all these blood tests they subject you to in pregnancy uncover something? I really just don't want to puke and lose my hair. I mean, I hate that it's so grey now, but I do have nice hair. Of course, I am sure after the baby is born it will fall out in droves. I remember my hairline was quite unattractive for awhile after Liam was born. AND I also had a second wave of hair loss a couple months before I got pregnant with this baby. I don't know why. I just know sometime last winter, I noticed short sprouts of hair poking up along my hairline. Weird.

Don't tell me to see a doctor. I am a grownup, and I am smart, and I know how to care for myself. And it annoys me when people treat me otherwise. It doesn't make me feel cared for. It makes me feel less than. Frankly I am just a little bored and playing with ideas and possibilities.

I am SO bored. Being a housewife is only fun if you have a lot of money to shop. I see that now. I see myself clearly now. I like stuff. I like consuming. I want to go shopping.
I want an $800 dollar handbag to casually throw over my shoulder like it's no big deal, while I pityingly look on your canvas Walmart tote, with sweet superiority.

Dreamed about teaching. It was hard. A classroom full of students with ADHD, and I was struggling to keep smiling and act like all my dreams were coming true. I finally resorted to bribing  them with candy, kicking myself over not getting sugar-free gum, because I do worry about their teeth. I always wondered whether all my students were REALLY taking care of their teeth. Nice teeth are so important. They don't have to be perfect, just healthy and somewhat straight and NOT missing. I worry about losing my own teeth. Replacement caps or whatever are certainly not in my budget.

I read some homeschool blogs, but it's not entirely satisfying when your child is only two, and your older kids aren't interested in homeschooling (what's wrong with them? Crazy kids).

Some girls in Taryn's cheer group asked if she would make them circle bows like the one she wore to class last night. I am so happy to find a craft I can do. My fingers and hands don't always behave appropriately when I am trying to use them. Taryn is even more ambitious that me. She isn't afraid to just keep piling the ribbon on!

Taryn is doing ICON cheer, since she thinks school cheer is SO boring, lol, but she is on a performance team rather than a competitive team. The competitive teams would have averaged out to over $200 a month with all the associated costs, but the performance should be slightly under $100.

Liam keeps sleeping in and not falling asleep at night. I SHOULD wake him up, but mornings are so hard on me now. I can't believe I have 7 more weeks to go. Surely this baby will be born at 36/37 weeks (don't all pregnant women think they'll go early?).

Karl and I are fighting over homebirth. Why? Because he wants the week's paid vacation and he is afraid he won't get it if I don't go to the hospital. Ridiculous.
I feel like he is stripping away my wisdom as a woman and robbing me of the faith in my body I deserve. I realize most people in our medically brainwashed society don't understand this. That's fine. I don't tell you what to do, so don't tell me what to do. Unless you whine about some ailment, then I will tell you to see a doctor, because frankly, I like problems solved and I can't fix medical problems. But childbirth isn't an ailment. It's the natural process of womanhood (and let's be honest-I am a two minute ambulance ride away from the hospital-that gives a feeling of security). I am pretty sure God and evolution are smarter than a bunch of back-watching uterus surgeons who don't want to get sued.
Again, your opinions aren't really wanted here. I am tired of negativity. When my own husband is TOO embarrassed to ask how to get vacation (which is what it is-he won't be nursing or dealing with hormones) if I have birth at home.
Interestingly, one of the reasons he was attracted to me is because I was a little "hippyish". But to him that means wearing the right clothes and cultivating a look. To me, it means not being afraid to step outside the mainstream to be honest about who you are and what you want out of life (like you know, $800 leather purses). Actually, it's not about the purse. It's about the aura of success and the attractive, fascinating people who will be drawn to me (like moths to a flame, baby) when I am projecting such success.

Have a good one!













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