Sometimes I get a bit weepy and feeling sorry for myself. This happens to all of us I know, but usually people don't write their weepiness down for others to read. Maybe I do it because I know that mostly just my friends and family read this and it's hard for me to talk about some of this stuff. Maybe I get self pitying and write which I'm starting to think is like drinking and dialing. This most recent episode of uteral agony was brought about by a good friend talking about planning her second pregnancy. It seemed so effortless for her and she was so positive that it would happen, the juxtaposition of her fertility versus mine set off a bit of an internal scrum for me. I'm okay now and I really don't expect many more of those because this time I ended up feeling something that I had never felt before- the absolute feeling that I had just been wallowing for wallowings sake. HUM- that gave me some food for thought. Yeah, boo hoo, poor me with my one beautiful, vibrant girl that fills everyday with magic and laughter. Oh poor me that I could only manage to finance one adoption. Oh sad sad day that I will never have to find out if my hips are actually as friendly to the birthing process as they seem in the mirror.
Let's divert quickly from the thought of me naked in front of a mirror shall we..... I don't want to have to face the fact that I would have to limit my candy corn this Halloween, or the pumpkin bread, or SHREEEK!! think about a very low indulgence level at Christmas. NO, I will just refuse to look at myself at all, lest you have 532 posts about the state of my thighs and lower belly and what seems to be happening to my ass.
So yes, ignore or forgive the post before last. I'm okay and am not drowning my sorrow in chocolate covered raisins. (Evelyn and I were watching Hocus Pocus, we had to eat them, it's tradition).
In other news I have discovered that my child is Hedonistic. I bought one of those super soft and kind of shiny faux fur blankets on a TJ Maxx splurge this evening. It was promptly claimed by the Butter Bean in question. Once home, she stripped - naked, climbed onto the couch and had me cover her up in the blanket, then she rolled around giggling and feeling the softness ( this was so unfair because it's exactly what I wanted to do but grown ups don't act that way- right?). Then she sat there, naked, in the softness and had snacks!!!! The Roman Emperors would have been proud, what with all of that indulgence. She is now in bed with said blanket so I didn't even get a single snuggle with it. By the way, she was told that there was no way that she was sleeping naked, so just forget it kid and tomorrow night that blanket is mine.
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