Ch-ch-ch-changes.

I have one tattoo, on my back, of a rose with vines. I thought I was done, til I visited the tattoo board on Pinterest.

I have no idea why it never occurred to me to get a quote from my favorite book tattooed on me. I had been tossing around the idea of getting an infinity symbol on my wrist, but I can’t find a symbol I like. I want something dainty and simple, which is surprisingly hard to find.

Back on subject, I’m getting a quote from Romeo and Juliet on my left shoulder, or the middle of my back. Probably my left shoulder. The quote is ‘here’s much to do with hate, but more with love.’

Why Romeo and Juliet? I love it. I read it when I was 12, then the movie came out. Leonardo DiCaprio was in it, needless to say, I’ve seen it. A lot. I have it memorized. I can recite the entire play. Not kidding. I think my dad was worried I was obsessed with suicide. He used to make sure I knew that suicide was bad and selfish. Not an issue with me, but there’s not a good way to tell your dad that you’re just watching the movie for the millionth time because you think Leo is smoking hot.

I think I will get it when I hit my 10 pound weight loss mark. Which I am 4 pounds away from.

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I Need To Get Out More.

So does my kid. I’m looking for a playgroup around here. It’s hard to find one that doesn’t have a gagtastic description. Still, I shall press on.

R had a wonderful 1st birthday. He had  his cake, that I fixed the spelling on, and Pizza Hut for lunch. He loves ‘real’ pizza. He also loves ice cream cake. He got a stuffed Perry the Platypus, he currently sleeps with it, a stuffed Minion, a play remote control, and a dinosaur ball popper. The ball popper is perhaps the most obnoxious toy I’ve encountered. It’s terrible. Of course he loves it.

He also had his 12 month checkup. His normal doctor wasn’t there, so he saw the nurse practitioner, who he hated. He had to get blood drawn for an iron test, and that was awful. He screamed through it, and kept screaming til we were in the car on the way home. I’m taking him back for shots on Friday, I didn’t think he’d handle it well after all that. He had a rough day, which meant he was super-glued to my lap the whole day.

Our trip to visit my parents is in less than a month! I can’t wait. I need a break. My husband has to work, so he’s staying home. He promises to clean the house and get rid of his clutter. Ha. If it happens, I’ll be shocked. I predict him eating various frozen foods, and playing Call of Duty. Naked. On the couch. I’m sanitizing everything the second I get back.

Friday the 13th.

Today has not been my day. I will summarize it in the conversation I had with my husband.

Matt: You look like you had a rough day.

Me: I did! *sniffle*

Matt: What happened?

Me: R has been in a mood all day. They spelled his name wrong on his cake, and of course I didn’t check til I got home. The freezers at Coldstone freaked him out and he had a meltdown, I just wanted to get out of there. THEN, a semi almost killed me. I wasn’t in his blind spot, and he changed lanes and I had to swerve into the other lane. I almost DIED. And I watched Bambi’s mom die for the first time this morning. *sniffle*

Matt: What? They don’t show anything. You just see them run into the thicket, and Bambi’s all ‘Mama?’

Me: *sob* I know! It’s terrible! *sob* *sniffle* Stop smiling at me. R giggled at my pain too.*sob*

Matt: Do you need a hug?

Me: *nods* *giant sob* *sniffle*

There you have it. I can find humor in it now. Sort of.

One.

R will turn 1 this Saturday. Oh, what a year it’s been.

First words, first real foods, first steps, clapping, Chewy noises, babblings, too many to count. Watching him grow this first year has been the most amazing of my life. I try to remember what life was like before him and I can’t. It’s much sweeter now, full of noise and laughter.

Happy Birthday, my wonderful baby boy. I love you so much.

Breathe.

“Well, I’m gonna get out of bed every morning… breathe in and out all day long. Then, after a while I won’t have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out…”

–Sleepless in Seattle

Although that quote was Tom Hanks saying how he was coping with his wife’s death, it runs through my head a lot. I am waiting for the day that I don’t have to remind myself to breathe.

Forgot.

I suppose I should have taken my last entry as a warning sign, but I didn’t.

I crashed this weekend. No one saw it but me.

I was fine. Til yesterday. R did not want to go to bed. So he screamed. I brought him back downstairs, let him play a half hour longer, my husband took him back to bed. He screamed again. That was the longest 8 minutes of my life. I started sweating, I couldn’t focus. I was on the phone with my mom and I can’t remember that block of time talking to her. I couldn’t breathe.

That’s when I realized I’d forgotten to take my medication the day before. 12 hours of no meds, and that’s what happened. I guess that means I’m not getting off it anytime soon.

I have an appointment this week with my OB/GYN. She’s going to chastise me for not talking to anyone like she wanted me to. I know I should have. I went twice, hated the waiting room and how it made me feel. The doctor I had been seeing left as well, so I just didn’t go back. I never felt better for going, so I just didn’t. I’d have to drop R off at a sitter’s and I can’t do that yet. I’ve tried, I just can’t.

Today I feel drained. Restless. Tired. You can only push feelings down for so long til they force themselves to the surface.

Under My Skin

Not many things bug me. There are those few little things that just irk me to the point of craziness. Like hypocrites. I know, everyone is, I certainly am. I’m talking about the ‘I’m such a ‘woman of God’, I’ve cheated on my husband in anger, but I’m free to judge everyone’. That kind of stuff. I’m not friends with this person anymore, but she still puts on the sin free persona. And yes, I know I’m judging her. I’ve never said I’m not a judgmental person. I’m not Christian, so I get a free pass, no? Kidding.

What else bugs me? People who have kids when they can’t afford them, people who run from financial responsibilities, Wal Mart, Crocs, organized religion. Also, that mini show, Small Potatoes on Disney. R loves it, and it’s completely obnoxious.

I know this is not my normal post, but it’s been a long long weekend.