Pregnant people can say anything.
Think about it. You've got a real live thing playing monkey bars on your rib cage, billards on your bladder and kick the can with your kidneys. If you happen to have a bad day and tell your whole family that "You all bug me and I can't stand to be around you. And I'm pregnant." All is forgiven. Think about what you can actually admit to your husband. "I hate how you brush your teeth, and when you talk your voice grates on my nerves. And I'm pregnant." See? All is forgiven. A woman comes into a room late, her face flustered, sweat trickling along her temples, she doesn't even have to speak. We've already forgiven her.
No I'm not pregnant, but the idea of being able to tell how I really feel sometimes is rather tempting. Anyway, that's my thought for the day. So if you are pregnant. Flaunt it. Tell us how you really feel because we have already forgiven you.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
"I can't think about it now, I'll go crazy if I do. I'll think about it tomorrow, after all, tomorrow is another day."
This seems to be my ongoing motto for everything in my life. I may not have the waist size of Scarlet O'Hara, but I can certainly live in head- smacking denial with the best of them. The floor needs moping, the toilets need scrubbing. I need to talk to son about his missing homework assignments. I need to check on the neighbor who has been sick for three weeks. I should talk to that teacher to see what can be done about said son's missing homework. Daughter needs attention. I should do something fun with her. The office is a wreck! Bills need paid, bills need filed. I should think about Father's day. The big anniversary is just around the corner. I'm in charge. The vacuum is broken. That sucks. Little son has a birthday in two days. I have no idea what to get him. What about a cake? Speaking of cake, the oven needs cleaning out from the pizza disaster last night. And middle son's laundry is still waiting to be done in the laundry room.
Had enough? This is just the tip of the iceburg. Don't get me wrong. I love this. I asked for this, but what I don't love is my ability to procrastinate everything to the very last millisecond. If you call and ask about Jakes baptism happening on the Fourth of June, do not expect to know what we'll be serving afterwards because I have no idea. It's at least two weeks away. Plenty of time to plan a menu, right? I've got a baby shower tonight that I haven't planned for, nothing to eat in the fridge, and no idea if I'll get to the grocery store. Those are my priorities.
Thinking about my life gives me a headache, and a rash. And a bad case of "I need chocolate, like right now!" I admire those of you that have your appointment books filled out and ready to go. I especially adore you if you have your first initial embrodered into everything you own. Like you know what and who you are. I always loved that about Rebecca in Daphne Du Mauiers book of like name. She had the R scrawled on everything. Everything was in its place, and every hour scheduled. Sometimes I'd like to be that person, but most of the time I like being spontaneous. I like to join little Macy out on the tramp, feel the sun warm my skin, and look up at the clouds and watch the vapor trails criss-cross against the blue sky. We love to watch the airplanes high overhead and imagine where all those people are going. I like sitting on the front step and listening to the crickets sing,the frogs croak, or the birds chirp. I'm fascinated with birds. I love to watch them protect their territory, chasing intruders away, nipping at their wings or singing a warning song to stay away from their nest as I run along the path. Romantic by nature, I can get lost in a book for hours. HOURS! Same with a movie. I am Scarlet. I am Elizabeth Bennett. I am Emma. No seriously, I am Emma. It's painful to admit, but I am woman enough to see my flaws. But we can talk later about that. And anyway, what's wrong with meddling in other peoples business? Isn't it right to tell it like it is? No round-the bush blabber for me baby. I might be frank and honest, but never mean-spirited. Never! I may not love you as a politician, but I will not make fun of your pink pant suits. I swear.
So every day I am faced with the dillema. Stay romantic, carefree, spontaneous, or get the house cleaned, the dinner cooked, the kids bathed. It is a daily struggle to find balance. So if this isn't ever an issue for you, I applaud you. I envy you. Some days I wish I were you. But other days, when my daughter takes my hand and leads me across the grass to show me the butterfly fluttering in the garden while explaining that the fairies turn in to butterflies during the day, I think that maybe my life isn't so bad. Don't lose hope. I'll keep fighting the fight. And on those days you pass by my house and see me laying on the trampoline staring into the sky, you will know that Becky is just being Becky. After all, tomorrow is another day.
This seems to be my ongoing motto for everything in my life. I may not have the waist size of Scarlet O'Hara, but I can certainly live in head- smacking denial with the best of them. The floor needs moping, the toilets need scrubbing. I need to talk to son about his missing homework assignments. I need to check on the neighbor who has been sick for three weeks. I should talk to that teacher to see what can be done about said son's missing homework. Daughter needs attention. I should do something fun with her. The office is a wreck! Bills need paid, bills need filed. I should think about Father's day. The big anniversary is just around the corner. I'm in charge. The vacuum is broken. That sucks. Little son has a birthday in two days. I have no idea what to get him. What about a cake? Speaking of cake, the oven needs cleaning out from the pizza disaster last night. And middle son's laundry is still waiting to be done in the laundry room.
Had enough? This is just the tip of the iceburg. Don't get me wrong. I love this. I asked for this, but what I don't love is my ability to procrastinate everything to the very last millisecond. If you call and ask about Jakes baptism happening on the Fourth of June, do not expect to know what we'll be serving afterwards because I have no idea. It's at least two weeks away. Plenty of time to plan a menu, right? I've got a baby shower tonight that I haven't planned for, nothing to eat in the fridge, and no idea if I'll get to the grocery store. Those are my priorities.
Thinking about my life gives me a headache, and a rash. And a bad case of "I need chocolate, like right now!" I admire those of you that have your appointment books filled out and ready to go. I especially adore you if you have your first initial embrodered into everything you own. Like you know what and who you are. I always loved that about Rebecca in Daphne Du Mauiers book of like name. She had the R scrawled on everything. Everything was in its place, and every hour scheduled. Sometimes I'd like to be that person, but most of the time I like being spontaneous. I like to join little Macy out on the tramp, feel the sun warm my skin, and look up at the clouds and watch the vapor trails criss-cross against the blue sky. We love to watch the airplanes high overhead and imagine where all those people are going. I like sitting on the front step and listening to the crickets sing,the frogs croak, or the birds chirp. I'm fascinated with birds. I love to watch them protect their territory, chasing intruders away, nipping at their wings or singing a warning song to stay away from their nest as I run along the path. Romantic by nature, I can get lost in a book for hours. HOURS! Same with a movie. I am Scarlet. I am Elizabeth Bennett. I am Emma. No seriously, I am Emma. It's painful to admit, but I am woman enough to see my flaws. But we can talk later about that. And anyway, what's wrong with meddling in other peoples business? Isn't it right to tell it like it is? No round-the bush blabber for me baby. I might be frank and honest, but never mean-spirited. Never! I may not love you as a politician, but I will not make fun of your pink pant suits. I swear.
So every day I am faced with the dillema. Stay romantic, carefree, spontaneous, or get the house cleaned, the dinner cooked, the kids bathed. It is a daily struggle to find balance. So if this isn't ever an issue for you, I applaud you. I envy you. Some days I wish I were you. But other days, when my daughter takes my hand and leads me across the grass to show me the butterfly fluttering in the garden while explaining that the fairies turn in to butterflies during the day, I think that maybe my life isn't so bad. Don't lose hope. I'll keep fighting the fight. And on those days you pass by my house and see me laying on the trampoline staring into the sky, you will know that Becky is just being Becky. After all, tomorrow is another day.
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