Sunday, January 12, 2014

Today I Cried Because...

Turns out I'm kinda hormonal.  Go figure.  Also, it's not like I wasn't a crier before.  But the things that will set me off are ridiculous.  Generally, adults can have a measured response to minor stimuli, but I, apparently, cannot.  I'm told the cure for my condition is childbirth...which then gives way to the hormone let down and sleep deprivation which I have been warned leads to more crying.  So, I've been hydrating and now, without further ado...

Much like the website Reasons My Son Is Crying, I bring you the exhaustive/exhausting pregnancy list from my last almost eight months: Today I cried Because...

- someone posted something on Facebook with a picture of the dog and all I saw was, "abandoned" and I spent the next ten minutes sobbing into Ruby's fur.

- I was trying to change into my pajamas and The Doctor, the perpetual little brother, thought it was funny to try to touch me with his cold hands.  He backed me into the closet and, when I broke into hysterics, said, "You don't play with me any more!" and stalked off.  When I tried to make it up to him later by trying to start a sword fight with empty wrapping paper rolls, he was busy...playing video games.  So I cried twice that day.

- I was sleepy.

- The Doctor said something nice to me.

- The cat food was precariously perched on the door of the freezer, and when I tried to get some frozen peas, the entire container of cat food fell on the floor and scattered to every corner of the kitchen.  At this point, I can pin down that the tears were not so much because of the "oops" but because the incident required me to bend over and clean it up before Ruby ate it all.

- The Doctor said something I decided was mean.  He knows not to do that now...

- I ate some lunch meat and then was sure I'd killed Booberry with listeria.

- I wanted a cheese enchilada but The Doctor misheard me and ordered a chicken enchilada.  This one was a bonus because it was in public.

-  So is this one: I was in Babies R Us.  It's just overwhelming there.  I've not gone back...Target for the win (as long as they don't steal my identity).

- I had to clean the sink and I didn't like how the cleaning chemicals smelled.

- And then there was eight am this morning.  Today I cried because the bed we bought a week ago inexplicably broke when The Doctor rolled out of it.  The wood split and will not go back into place.  The Doctor laughed as we took a picture of the damage, which is in sight of the "Made in China" sticker on my beautiful new (consignment) bed, the last piece of furniture we needed for the house to make it complete, as I wept quietly from the corner of the room.

The furniture in my house falls into the following categories:
- stuff my family members didn't want/were able to part with/loan us (we can call these "family heirlooms")
- consignment
- thrift store
- both couches are new (and glorious)
- and, of course. the infamous...IKEA.

So, really, I've put some effort into making my house not just an empty shell and doing it with limited funding.  Nothing I hate more than lost time and money.

 Here's hoping I can get a refund because, if not, I will GO TOTALLY NUTS on the consignment people because we had the bed for six blissful nights...not that I slept well.  It's just that the three-four times I had to get out of bed in any given night were a simple two step process of, moan/roll until my feet hit the ground and then stand as opposed to my method when the mattress was on the floor up until now which was moan/roll until one foot touches the floor and then do a reverse grande plie while wincing in pain until standing while feeling like my abdomen is a water balloon about to pop.  Rest in Peace, beautiful consignment bed.  I will not be...

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