So as I try to make this blog all encompassing — as in talking about things other than motherhood — the truth is, I AM a mother.
And I’m pregnant.
Pregnancy is consuming my mind right now. Therefore, I have surrendered to the fact that I’ll be one of those super boring mommy/pregnancy bloggers. At least until February.
I DO apologize. Oh so sincerely. I’ll try to add a few intelligent sentences in every now and then.
I could add these posts to my other blog, but even though that blog is dedicated to parenting, it’s just much easier to stick to one blog. Like a one-stop shop, ya know what I’m sayin’?
So now that I’ve told you that boring piece of news, it’s time to move on to how I feel.
I feel like shit, okay?
I’m still in my first trimester and I’m fucking hungry. But I can’t eat. Cuz that makes me feel sick. And then I get even hungrier. Then I eat. Then I feel even more like shit cuz food be fuckin’ everything up in the digestives.
Not that I’m complaining. Cuz some assholes would be happy to point out that I got myself into this situation after all.
I mean — we DID get pregnant on purpose. We thought a fourth child would kind of — you know — round things out in the sibs department.
But damnit. Pregnancy is hard. Especially when you feel like shit.
So I guess I have a right to complain — to spew these words out of my brain organ into this blog and out into the universe to whoever the hell reads my captivating words.
So I feel like shit. And I’m tired. But my amazing husband is putting up with me and encouraging me to get as much rest as possible.
I fucking love him.
So to end this post, I just want to say that —
Orange Is The New Black is my new favorite show and I watched the entire season within two days.
All thanks to my husband. Who encourages me to lie in bed and rest. With the laptop.
I guess this pregnancy thing ain’t so bad after all.
And just to add — the title of this blog post is entitled Goat Cheese simply because I couldn’t come up with a title — and I’m really craving goat cheese.
Nothing will make you feel more like a self-entitled schmuck than being a pregnant lady who feels sorry for herself.
It’s all stupid shit. Like, being pissed off at your husband because he can drink wine and you can’t (not that I’m against drinking wine in the third trimester — because I assure you — I WILL enjoy my wine in the third trimester.) Or getting angry at your husband for taking that one rare night to go hang out with a friend. Selfish? Yes. Irrational? Most definitely. Is pregnancy an excuse for my schmuckness? I really want to say yes — but — no. No, it’s not an excuse.
I got angry at my husband earlier this afternoon for something fucking stupid. Something dumb. And he looked at me with this sweet, incredulous look.
And I felt like a bitch.
So I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes and confessed.
I said, “I know I’m being irrational. I’m sorry. I’m angry and I don’t know why.”
And he rubbed my back and said, “I know, babe.”
I really need to work on being nice.
Especially because I have a husband who’ll rub my back and look at me with his sympathetic brown eyes…
And still call me babe. No matter how horrible I’ve been.
And here I am. Pregnant with number four.
I think I might be crazy for doing this.
This baby thing. Again.
Oh, what the hell.
How hard can it be?