And day 3.....

There is something disconcerting about being able to watch your belly move of its own accord. It may seem like a great and wondrous miracle to all those around you, but to me, it just feels off. That’s not to say I’m a mean and horrible person who doesn’t appreciate the miracle of human life, but rather that I’m a scared young mother who has seen way too many science fiction-y movies and read way too many books and would rather her tummy move only when she wants it to. Which will probably characterize a lot of her motherhood….DO WHAT I TELL YOU, NOT WHAT YOU WANT!

I’m tired. And I hurt. A lot. Which is a part of pregnancy, sure, and even more a part when you are having multiples but I’m tired of my rib cage and my back hurting. It makes it hard to sleep and hard to stay awake and it just isn’t the fun part of pregnancy. I’m not really even sure that there IS a fun part of pregnancy, because all I can think of that might fit into that category is my mass consumption of flaming hot cheetoes and coca-cola. But the other stuff isn’t bad. It’s just kind of ouch. And by kind of, I mean a lot. And then when I do something stupid, like get a massive sunburn on my back, I can’t sleep on my front. Um, wow, that was NOT smart. Lack of sunscreen is not a positive thing. It turns your back bright red and makes it impossible to sleep. Or put on aloe vera by yourself, which makes me feel like a complete wuss.

I think, sometimes, that I’d do better as a solitary person. I love people, don’t get me wrong, but these days, I just don’t feel connected to anyone. I get angry a lot over things that should be buried in the past and that isn’t fair to whomever I am projecting it at. I’m still at my boyfriend’s house and I miss my family. Which is weird, because I get frustrated and angry with them and they invade my personal space but they are my family and I miss them. I hate not being able to be around them on a daily basis.

I’m back to watching Grey’s Anatomy. Again. I’m not proud but it is horribly addictive and…you know what? People like me shouldn’t be allowed to watch shows like that. They never end and then you end up addicted for the rest of your life to a show that’s actually excellent but is something you can’t watch all the time. Why do they make shows like this??? They destroy my sanity.

I haven’t waited by the phone in years. I stopped doing that when I stopped dating random guys who had no real investment in my life. I hate waiting by the phone. Nothing makes me feel more like a waste of God-given space. So why is it, that even though I know I’ve gotten this damn job, I’m still waiting by the damn phone to see if I’ll be working this week. I need to work. I need money. I need to stop feeling so damn lazy and just go to fucking work. May I please please please go to work now?

Day One

Day 1 of living outside my house. It’s kind of disconcerting, really. I went to go visit my house and my family and I felt just exactly like that, a visitor. It’s hard to feel accountable to anyone at this point. I’m thankful to my boyfriend and his parents for letting me come stay at their house.

I now feel homeless. Now THAT’S a fun feeling. Pardon me, gentle readers, for sounding like an emo little girl today. Bear with me for a few more lines and I promise to be back to my normal sarcastic perky self. But it’s been raining for almost 3 days, I can’t go home for at least a week, maybe two weeks and I’m all super sad and whatnot. And pregnant, so I have an excuse to be all snarky and whatnot, but I don’t like it. I’m going to a party tonight so please, Lord, help me be a nice and friendly person tonight. Help me be a channel of Your peace.

On a lighter note, I ACED a job interview. Kicked its ass. Now please, please please call me back! It was fun though, I love interviews. I think I’m supposed to be afraid of interviews, but I find them fun and kind of challenging. I’m dying to go to work there. I’m dying to WORK. Period. Want off bed and into work.

More to come.

Late Father's Day part 1

Dear new father,

It’s the second day after Father’s day and I still find myself in the awkward position of having no words for this Father’s day post/letter/blog thing. I’m not appreciating the writer’s block at all, because normally these things come quickly and naturally to me. I’ve been writing to the people I’ve loved for years and years. Why is it so hard to with you? I honestly don’t know. I get all tongue-tied, as far as writing to you goes and that’s just ridiculous, because as you know, I never ever have problems talking to you face to face. Ever.

So…what to say? I’m glad I know you. I’m glad I’ve never killed you, even when I’ve had the overwhelming urge to. I think it’s a little awkward that the only reason I first met you was because I was hitting on your friend, but it makes a funny story. Not really cute, but funny. You make me smile, even when I’m pissed as hell at you. You make me think and discover new things about myself, even when I resist with ALL my strength. You continue to try to expose me to horrific music that I have absolutely no interest in and you put up with my music with minimal complaints. You try to make me have a clean room. You can out-logic me at any point during the day (a fact that makes me crazy) but you still know when to keep your mouth shut.

Your friends described you as the most honorable. In this day and age, that’s a rare description, and quite honestly, it’s the first thing that convinced me I liked you. Besides the facial hair. You show me what real forgiveness looks like. You’ve only made me cry a lot. You dance with me. You keep my freaking out over almost everything to a minimal level. I really do like that you make me try new things, even when I’m resisting. You listen when I talk even when I don’t want you to. You make me talk about the hard stuff, the embarrassing stuff and the stuff that makes me want to curl up in a little ball and die. And surprisingly, I am getting better at it. Sort of.

I suppose, to be continued,

Megan

Too Damn Long

It's been too long and I'm sorry for anyone who bothers following me. Long days and pleasant nights to each and every one of you, even the ones who aren't reading what I write.

It's been a crazy few months. I am 4 1/2 months pregnant with identical twin boys. I would be worried about the future of my sanity, but as my friends love to remind me, I lost it years ago! In any case, I could write about the trials and tribulations of the last few months but...then my therapist would be out of a job, and that would be exceptionally problematic for us both.

I love the movie Sweet Home Alabama. As far as feel good movies go, it's an excellent one, but I love how real it feels.

Letters to Y'all

Dear ones,

I don’t even know your names yet. Forgive me for not always addressing this letter as a plural; it’s still hard to think of y’all as a twosome even though I’ve seen y’all in the pictures. It’s not so hard to believe I’m pregnant these days, because I’m sick all the time and my body is changing in a bunch of different ways, and I’m even more hormonal, which according to some people is darn near impossible to be. However, I’m sure you’ll see it all at some point, if your daddy and I decide to have more children. Be afraid, be very afraid!
In any case, I’m writing to you because I’m sure at some point you’ll want to know how I was feeling at 13-14 months. Well, you probably won’t care, but I will. And I want to remember how I felt, the good and the bad. And the scary, ‘cause there’s some of that. It’s April 2010. Currently, my cat (which is actually the family cat) likes to sit on my stomach and purr, which makes your dad mad. He has called it stepping on the children and appears to take great offense at it. I personally think he knows you are in there and is saying hello and expressing his love for you! Since apparently EVERYONE is going to want to touch my stomach when it gets bigger, why can’t I let the animal, who I actually like, touch my stomach? Riddle me that!
We have a baby four month old Rottweiler who thinks she’s the queen of the house. She’s very sweet and friendly, and we (meaning my brother, my mom, my dad and me) are trying very hard to train her before y’all get here. I’m eighteen (young, huh?) and it’s pretty scary being pregnant, but I’m blessed with a supportive family and supportive boyfriend (y’all’s daddy) and his family. I laugh a lot and I get really angry a lot but I rarely cry these days, which is frustrating, because there are a lot of times where I think I should just sit down and cry. It would get rid of a lot of pent up aggression and whatnot. I’ve never done drugs and I don’t like alcohol. I love all music, except your dad’s favorite thing to listen to, which is a strange parody band that should probably be wiped off the face of the earth. But I’m not biased. AT ALL. Personally, I like country, alternative rock and hip-hop. And the musical music. Some indie, which is a genre that doesn’t quite make sense to me. Anything I can dance to gets a pass, as well. I like classical if I’m playing it on the piano or guitar. But I was raised on country, including some of the more ridiculously good and I will do my best to help you love my music as well as cultivate an interest in what you like. You’d be amazed at some of the crap people listen to these days, though.
I lose everything. I try to love everyone, even the people that I dislike for no apparent reason. I like silver and don’t like gold. I love driving with the windows down and the music cranked up. I love candy, especially nerds. I love to read and I love the whole “vampire” concept, even though you will be WAY too young for a really long time and probably the whole thing will be out of style by the time you are old enough to understand. I wasn’t very popular in high school, but I had a close group of girl friends, who will be your “aunties” or whatever the hell they want to be called. I promise to try as hard as I can not to embarrass you. I apologize in advance for the hairiness (points at your dad). I apologize in advance for overanalyzing everything, which I am bound to do, if I become a therapist.

I love you both, with all my heart. As terrified as I am of being a mom, I also can’t wait for you to get here!
Until I write next, (tomorrow)
I love you
Your Mom

Good glord....

So….I’ve discovered that Lindt chocolate is the best chocolate on the face of the planet. Really. I just had a hazelnut flavored milk chocolate carrot (it was a shape, not a vegetable) and GOOD GOD, it was amazing. There is now a solid milk chocolate bunny frozen in my freezer and it is so very hard not to devour it. However, chocolate has this amazing effect on me in that it is a depressant. Yea, I know, I hate my life too. But, if I eat it with something, the effects are somewhat less harsh.

After adopting a four month old Rottweiler, my life has somewhat departed from the normal realms of sanity. Not that a 19 year old having twins is in any way SANE but let’s all take a second and remember my cat. Who hates the dog. Sort of. In a “Stop chasing me, you crazy bitch” way. My puppys name is Grace and she is ridiculously large and playful. And inside the house, which leads to all sorts of shenanigans. And not graceful ones. She is very sweet though, and that makes up for all the crazies. The cute and the fun factor is high. Especially when she starts licking my ankles. By the size of her paws, she is going to be humongous! And I can’t wait. Has anyone read that book Good Dog Carl? If not, go acquire it. It is a sweet picture book that everyone needs to read.

You know the critic from Ratatoille? I think I should be him when I grow up. Angry and scary and skinny and a food lover. If I can’t cook, I’ll critique and piss people off. It sounds like an entertaining job. MWAHAHAHA. That guy sounds JUST like Frollo from the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Sexy voice, creepy ass man. By that I mean Frollo.

Boyd: We're pimps and killers, but in a philanthropic way.

Echo: You think we're gods?
Alpha: We're not just humans anymore. We're not multiple personalities. We're many personalities. Uh... one of my personalities happens to be a multiple personality, but that doesn't make me a multiple personality. I'm looking for a little nuance here.
Echo: We're not gods.
Alpha: Fine, Übermensch. Nietzsche predicted our rise. Perfected. Objective. Something new.
Echo: Right. New, superior people. With a little German thrown in. What could possibly go wrong?



My new favorite show is Kitchen Nightmares. I think it’s just disturbing enough for me not to go completely insane. Gordon Ramsay’s smart mouth makes me very happy and I like watching the transformations. Some are easier than others, but in the end, so far, they all work out. This satisfies my intense need for a happy ending. Plus, Gordon Ramsay is hot. And apparently forty. God, this is like my Viggo Mortenson crush all over again.

Sigh

My body is changing and this disturbs me greatly. My tummy hasn’t gotten humongous or anything, it’s simply that whenever I look down, things look different. Radically, to me, in any case. I doubt very much that anyone who doesn’t know me exceptionally well should be able to tell.

It is somewhat scary though. The biggest changes my body has gone through are horrific growing pains in elementary school and my boobs popping out freshman year. Both of those were painful and horrifying in my young mind, so I’m having a hard time keeping a positive state of mind at this point. Positivity has never been my strong suite in any case. Maybe for other people but not for me. Hooray for sweats!

My list of things to worry about gets longer and longer and longer. I know I’ll probably be living in my current house for at least the next two years and don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy that its even an option, but it’s still a long and frusterating roud. One that I chose, but difficult nevertheless.