-My older child is obsessed with peeing in the great outdoors. It irritates me.
-I want to be a doctor. What other profession can you do virtually NOTHING, say, "Gee, I don't know," and still get paid THOUSANDS of dollars? I still love my doctor...but I can't help but wonder about this stuff.
-My insurance isn't too bad as far as dead baby ultrasounds go...only $38.
-We asked the bank to refinance in order to reduce our monthly house payment. They said no. We are seriously thinking there is a conspiracy going on. It would probably be good for the local bank to help Waste Management gain possession of our house at a rock-bottom price...so we can't help but wonder...
-I want a haircut but can't bring myself to do it because I DREAD the hairdresser's idle chit-chat. I wonder how many people burst into tears in the chair?
-Our friend, Lady Cynthia, sent us a deadbaby care package that included $10 wrapped around a wine cork...the closest thing she could get to sending us a bottle. We went to Heritage Wines and bought a wine called "Half & Half." Funny or sick?
-My friend MB sent us a lovely a tower of assorted sweet treats. The chocolate covered caramels with sea salt arrived yesterday (everything else arrived today), and you'll notice they didn't make it to picture time intact.
Not sure I should thank her for the extra pounds I'll be having to work off. :o)-We are starting to think we may have to re-name Myles. We recently realized his name may be a source of considerable confusion during the toddler "my/mine" phase...when he kept repeating "my's toy." Is it possible that he thinks everything belongs to him because the words are so phonetically close? My...Myles?
-When I'm 90 years old and have officially been deemed demented, I think I will really enjoy freaking people out by talking about my dead babies.
-If I just pretend it was all a bad dream, will I pay for it later? I always heard/believed that you can't deny grief or it will come back to bite you.
-And here is where reality and politics potentially collide...Seeing Little Bug on ultrasound and acknowledging him/her as a BABY/PERSON has really fucked me up. I'm just saying (Oklahoma...Florida...Louisiana...etc).
-The dog in the previous post went immediately to the APL. Did not even cross the threshold of home. Eight is more than enough.
4 comments:
I think the wine and candy are evidence that you aren't forgotten.
My grandfather, by the way, lived to be one month short of ninety. To the end he freaked out people with HIS DBS.
I hope you live to be ninety anyway. <3
My Grandmother freaked everyone out with her DBS as far as I can remember back....
C - don't know if it's the wine talking, but the thought of you in a nursing home ranting about your dead babies was too much. I will wear green pants and talk about my blown tube and child without a butt hole.
They'll be like, "Oh, there's crazy Rachel again, always talking about the baby with two vaginas..."
yep I'm waiting for the old and mad years, to really let go too xx
Post a Comment