Saturday, September 13, 2008

I really shouldn't be eating this second piece of cake...

...But I am. And it's GOOD. And for whatever reason, I did not even THINK about hubby's pregnant cousin being at the party. You know, the one who couldn't go to 6 Fl*ags on Friday night, because she had a "stomach virus," then called on Monday to tell us she was pregnant. You know, the one who is entering her 2nd trimester tomorrow, and doesn't look pregnant at all. I was putting on my make-up at 4:30 when I thought about it. Which, incidentally, was the same time my hubby let me know he wanted to be at said party before 5... My clothes were not ironed yet, and it was 4:30. Let's just say, it really sucks to be so darned GOOD at NOT crying during what should be a happy event.
Hubby's other cousin began the dreaded y'all-are-next-so-when's-it-gonna-be conversation. Hubby made several jokes about still having time and letting them have one before us, and we're-shopping-around-for-a-baby.... She didn't really want to let go of the conversation... "Oh, wait, do y'all have something to tell us????!!!!!" Um, no, actually... We would LOVE to be able to have something to tell you, but instead, we're not pregnant, we're never gonna be pregnant, and right now we're waiting on some stupid magic number 3 anniversary. But it tears my heart out every time someone brings this convo up, so thanks... Yeah, that's not how I responded... I mentioned something about Ukraine, but hubby made an aside comment to not even bring that up.
Talked to Older Sister when we got home. She and 2 of our aunts with a 4-year-old and 10-month-old went to drop off clothes at Kid*s M_arket (KM) this morning before daylight. Have you ever been to KM? Madhouse. Do NOT get in the way of a Mama trying to find her baby(-ies) a good deal on a whole new wardrobe. I went with Older Sister a year ago, because she had a bum arm, so I dragged her basket around an old grocery store as she looked for clothes. A little (okay, a LOT) overwhelming for someone who first, doesn't have anyone to shop for, and second, well, CAN'T HAVE KIDS..... So anyway.... One of those aunts (the one with the baby... The surprise baby with a brother and sister in middle school) is having an MRI on the day that people who brought in things can come to shop before it is open to everyone else. She'll ahve to be sedated, so my aunt doesn't really want to leave her, and she can't decide if she wants someone to come help her shop and tend to baby, or just go shop for her. Well, older sister knows that I'm always the first to volunteer to help with the babies, so she volunteered me to go shopping for our aunt. Now, the first time I helped OS shop at KM, I swore I would never, ever go back, unless I was shopping for my own, and maybe not even then. Did I say yet that it's overwhelming? I have no desire to do this, but I'll probably end up going and doing whatever they need me to do. Not really sure how that will go, for sooooooo many reasons. The last time, I was in a better frame of mind, because we were still newlyweds, and there was still hope because everything was new. (Huge disclaimer: I know that some couples will laugh at my thinging that a year and a half is a long time to try, with no luck, for baby) A year and a half later, not so much. The mere thought of looking for tiny baby clothes (little girl is still wearing 3-6 month clothes, thus one of the reasons for the MRI). I can see me breaking down in the middle of the store, and while it's not the worst area in that town, I wouldn't exactly be able to sit outside and wait on everyone else to finish shopping.
Now.... With all that said.... It makes me feel like a horrible, terrible person. My tiny little baby cousin is having an MRI done, who knows WHAT could be wrong with her, and I'm wirred about how I'm gonna make it through shopping for her with my sanity in tact. (Wait a minute, isn't it a little late for that, according to the title of this blog?) I shouldn't be so worried about myself. I should be GLAD that I have all of these babies to shop for, and I should go and enjoy every minute of it. It's not all about me, good grief. For once, I just want to feel like a normal freakin' person doing a normal freakin thing...
So, instead of coming home and having a good cry.... I eat. A big, honkin' piece of homemade b-day cake. Did I mention I keep losing the same 5lbs over and over?

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