The Scream

It seems as though anytime I(and most people) want something, every other person on earth seems to be getting exactly what I want! It is like someone out there is handing out that very thing that I most covet and I just keep missing him. Like the ice cream truck when you were a kid, he was always just a block over, you could hear him-but not get to him. Certainly it is no secret that Jake and I are trying to have a baby. It is also most likely not a secret that I am not a patient person. Well, it has been a good 9-10 months of waiting and I am sick of it.

RELAX

That is what the world is telling me to do. Relax. If it were simply that easy we would have an entire world of completely chilled people. It would be like living on one giant commune. To be completely truthful-I have not once ever been relaxed. For me, it is one of life's greatest mysteries. I even sleep in a tense position. Oh well. That's me. Problem is, there is nothing worse then people telling you to relax when you are incapable of such a state of being. Even my mother, who calls me the most stressed person on earth, just simply tells me to not think about it. So I am supposed to have sex with my husband and then try my hardest to not think of what I hope for? Um? Crazy. I always find ways to get what I want. Problem is, there is no one to schmooze. No one to bargain with or ask please prettily... Nope. I have to wait. But not think about it when a friend calls and says she is pregnant or when our family asks us when we are having kids. I have to play it off as though I don't want any right now. I think I might cry otherwise.

Today I had a mini-meltdown at work. It was a long time coming and not too shocking. Devon(basically my sister) called to tell me a friend was pregnant. While I should not admit this, I felt like I was punched in the stomach. It seriously felt as though all of the air had been squeezed out of me. Was it because this friend was always a sort of 'frenemy'? Was it because I am competitive at heart and I have turned this into a competition in some imaginary race? Or was it because I am just a bratty kid who doesn't want people to have what I don't? I really don't know. All I know is that I had to say very little so I didn't start to cry. Devon then goes on to tell me how our friend wasn't even trying yet and was only off the pill for less than a month, how the friend is worried she isn't ready and wanted to get pregnant in a few months from now. Fuck off. Thats it, I lost it. I rather abruptly told Devon that I was busy and said goodbye. I started crying in my damn cubicle. Ridiculous. I hated myself for being that girl who cries at work.

I called my dear mother for comfort who just told me that I needed to relax and not to take everything so personal. I couldn't even get a damn ounce of sympathy from my own mother. Why should I have to ask my own mom for some frickin' pity? Just a little? I didn't want advice, I didn't want to be told that I was wrong. Just tell me that it sucks and that you feel bad that I am going through this! Fuck! Why is it so wrong to be sad and want some sympathy? I do not normally ask for it! I feel like I am normally the person people go to for advice and a shoulder to cry on. I hope I don't just tell people to relax and make them feel ridiculous for not being able to do so. I dont' care who you are, if you are into something and truly wish for something, you absolutely cannot just fucking forget about it. Give me a break.

I truly don't want people to think that they can't tell me that they are pregnant, I really am happy for them. I am just sad for myself. Can't a girl be both?

It feels so great to write this because I haven't had an outlet to just say all of the 'bad' things I have been thinking. This was not a post looking for sympathy, I was just plain ol' looking to bitch and it feels so good.

Just Don't Call Me Martha...

I guess I have been in a supremely domestic mood as of late. It seems that I must live in one extreme or another. So if I don't cook, we tend to eat take-out. Be it pizza, fast food or carry out from a local restaurant it is not at all prepared by me or my husband. Wait-sometimes I'll pour something to drink. Now, if we are not dining on such enviable fare, I go the complete opposite route and have to cook my meals from scratch. Well... basically. Let's not get ridiculous here, I do take some help from the grocery store. I do not, for example, use fresh tomatoes instead of canned for spaghetti. That is just too much work for someone as lazy as me.

So after a Friday night of pizza, pop and lots of cigarettes I decided that I couldn't take it anymore. I got into the kitchen on Saturday evening and cranked out chili, banana bread and prepped a roast for tonight's dinner. The pop and cigarettes continued but I still felt a little cleansed. Now, today I woke up and got the roast cooking and started work on blueberry pancakes with turkey bacon. (ed note: not so much a fan of the Turkey Bacon...) I then relaxed on the couch and felt the need to make dessert for tonight's dinner because if I make one part of the dinner it tends to inspire me to make more and more. I must confess, our dessert is just some of that 'dirt' pudding you tend to see at picnics and not made from scratch but I did have to make some components and it still is strangely satisfying to know that I have meals aplenty in my kitchen right now.

As much as I abhore the notion of a 'housewife' I would very happily be a well-educated housewife who CHOOSES to stay home if I got this proud feeling after most days. Then again, Jake may not be so quick to do the dishes while I cook or run to the store for an ingredient that I forgot if those were my only tasks while he was working all day. I probably wouldn't find as much joy in doing this if I were to have to do it every day. Or if we had kids and I had to deal with them at the same time.

I suppose I should just enjoy my moments of domestic supremacy and hope that it is fun a few years down the road.