My bodyclock has suddenly decided to begin working, like clockwork no less. For the past week, I have been waking up at 6:45 AM on the dot. Wonder how and why one's biology makes the decision to do that? Either way, it has made me extremely tired by 9PM each night. In turn, being exhausted (and stressed to the max) has caused quite the unstoppable, cranky mood swings. Muscles thinks this is hilarious.
Last night, for example, I didn't get home until around 8:30/9 PM. I had a very important meeting that morning, worked all afternoon, and then went to a mind-boggling meeting for my internship that involved alot of nonsensical, theoretical professor-talk. I was one to be reckoned with, for sure. I found Muscles lying on the couch watching a basketball game, that, quite frankly, I was jealous I missed the beginning of. Our conversation went something like this:
Disclaimer: It is my belief that most women have the occasional day like this, and that we all carry around a deep shame for our actions. If you are fortunate enough to be even-keeled, please don't judge.
"Oh! Hey honey," Muscles chirps as I walk in the door.
"Hi." I say smugly. Why is HE so cheerful, I think. And why did I just answer in that tone? What's wrong with me.
Giggles ensue. Muscles gets a kick out of my PMS, clearly. This irritates the Mood Swing Monster (known in some circles simply as MSM).
"What's so funny?" MSM growls.
Muscles attempts to straighten up.k "Nothing, honey. I love you," he purrs.
This guilts me into suppressing my frenemy MSM, so I grin and bear it,
"I love you, too."
A few minutes later, I have settled into the couch next to Muscles. He comments that I have had a long, frustrating day and offers to rub my feet. Awww. At least that's what I should've been thinking. Sometimes, when sweet, sweet Muscles does this, I melt. On this day, MSM pushed those weak, mushy feelings aside. I complied, still giving Muscles the sideways look. He giggles some more.
What is he LAUGHING at?!? Clearly, I am unhappy. He is laughing because I had a bad day! My sound reasoning goes something like that. Geez. In retrospect, I sound like I should be committed, but even in the face of this monstrosity, I tell myself to calm down. I drift off into serious thought about the day's events, yada yada yada.
"Muscles?" I say tentatively, to get his attention.
He stops to pause the game, anticipating that this will be a lengthy convo. That annoys MSM a smidge, so the frenemy takes the defensive. I then proceed to ask some rhetorical question like "Do you think this would be a good career move for us as a family?", which ultimately leads into a rambling monologue listing the reasons why and why not. Guess how Muscles chooses to take part in this heartfelt discussion?
If I could draw a picture on my bloggie blog, I would. To put it lightly, he stares blankly and silently at the space beyond my head. Perhaps there was some sort of ball or shiny object there. I am unsure. Either way, the silence becomes deafening a few moments later. Has Muscles completely checked out, or has his brain suddenly fallen out onto the sofa? Mood Swing Monster, for one, is infuriated at his disrespect for our, ahem, MY personal thoughts and concerns. Can't he tell I'm trying to facilitate discussion, not give a presidential address?!?
Brace yourselves. You won't believe how the silence is broken. Muscles slowly turns his pin head towards me until his eyes come into focus on my face. Novel idea. And he says,
"I'm going to turn the game back on now. Is that ok?"
MSM goes berserk. There might have been a slew of questions spill from my mouth, including but not limited to: Did you hear what I just said? Do you not think it was important enough to warrant a response? Are you ears suddenly deafened? Did it occur to you that I'm asking you because your input matters to me? IS THE GAME MORE IMPORTANT THAN ME RIGHT NOW?
Muscles is no longer smiling. In fact, he looks frightened of his own responses. He's on the top of his game, though.
"Yes, dear. I heard you. Of course it was important, but I didn't know what you wanted me to say. No my ears are fine. [Giggle, giggle.] Oh! I thought you were just telling me about it. And NO! The game would NEVER be more important than you."
I am too exhausted to be anything other than appeased. Okay, I have a million times infinity arguments against that, but whatever.
Of course, this back-and-forth continued until I finally found Mr. Sandman around 11 PM. Then, I promptly rose at 6:45 this morning. Wonder what Muscles has done this morning to warrant my input? :)
(Of course, I'm kidding. Where and when do these hormones stop?!?)
6.04.2009
On the Fast Track to Becoming the Creepy Old Lady Who Takes an Extra Special Interest in Other Peoples' Kids
First things first. You should know that my husband and I have alot of lame, strange names for one another. For your easy reading, I will be referring to him as Muscles for the continuation of this bloggie blog. The backstory on his moniker will have to be saved for later. I have important topics to cover here. Anyway, he calls me Rooster, and that's what I will use should I ever need to refer to myself... by my husband... in my own blog. Silly stuff.
So, Muscles and I have been married for almost 3 years. For nearly 2 and 1/2 of that, we have been trying to conceive our very own little bundle of slobber and joy. This was not in our original life plan, and, of course, it has put an additional strain on our marriage at times. However, we forged ahead with this decision upon learning of my diagnosis of a fairly common reproductive disease. To put it lightly, there has been alot of disappointment each month when I see only one pink line on the Pee Stick of Hope (PSH, for short).
Recently (as in, the few months), we decided to pursue fertility options beyond the usual late-night bump and grind. Two days ago, we traveled an hour to our first appointment with the baby doctors. Let me pause here to say that it amazes me that technology has not made advances that make it possible for me to leave my clothes on and keep all unwanted fingers and foreign objects out of my hoo-hoo for medical purposes. Anyway, we met a very nice doctor who set us up for a couple of required (AKA expensive) tests and discussed our options with us. If you happen to be blessed with the fertility of hamsters, let me enlighten you. We can either A) have Muscles do his man-business in the waiting room and then insert the goods via turkey baster into the ol' hoo-hoo, or B) Muscles still has to handle his man-business in the waiting room, whilst they remove one of my eggs with a long needle, mix the two crazy kids together, and then put them back inside of me in hopes that they'll stick around, so to speak. Both are quite expensive, especially considering that most offspring find their way in there for somewhere around the cost of a cheap bottle of wine, say $9. Anyway, the turkey baster option is less expensive, maybe 1/4 or 1/3 of the cost of option B. However, the success rate of Option B is 3-5x better. Seeing as how we don't have any money trees at fruition, we are in quite the pickle.
So, I say to the Doc, "Which option do you think gives us the best chance to conceive ?"
And he says, "You tell me what you all want to do. I don't want to push anything."
And I say, "But, in your medical opinion, do you think Turkey Basting is a waste of our time?"
And he says, "Every couple is different. You all have to decide what you want to try."
And I say, "Did medical school not teach you how to form an O-P-I-N-I-O-N?!?"
Okay, that last part is a lie, but I wanted to say it. I hate decisions, especially big, life-changing, costly decisions. Of course, a child of our own is priceless to us, but that doesn't mean we want set his or her nursery up in the nice, large cardboard box we will be living in after spending our savings willy-nilly. But I concur, we decided with Doc to wait until after the preliminary testing is done before we made a decision. The results could have an impact.
Now, I have to muster up all the patience I can find in my anxious, only child soul. This is going to be a process, and such things do not operate on my schedule, I already find myself telling myself repeatedly. On the bright side, though, we can relax a smidge and dream a little about having a family. We have already thrown around names for twins (Kingston & Kate), chosen a room in our house for the nursery (upstairs, closest to our room), discussed parenting styles (and not quite agreed, of course), and become generally more accepting of this constant state of fear. Sincerely, I just hope it happens soon and without too much disappointment. I have been through quite a storm during the past couple of years, and I am ready for a BIG blessing. :)
So, Muscles and I have been married for almost 3 years. For nearly 2 and 1/2 of that, we have been trying to conceive our very own little bundle of slobber and joy. This was not in our original life plan, and, of course, it has put an additional strain on our marriage at times. However, we forged ahead with this decision upon learning of my diagnosis of a fairly common reproductive disease. To put it lightly, there has been alot of disappointment each month when I see only one pink line on the Pee Stick of Hope (PSH, for short).
Recently (as in, the few months), we decided to pursue fertility options beyond the usual late-night bump and grind. Two days ago, we traveled an hour to our first appointment with the baby doctors. Let me pause here to say that it amazes me that technology has not made advances that make it possible for me to leave my clothes on and keep all unwanted fingers and foreign objects out of my hoo-hoo for medical purposes. Anyway, we met a very nice doctor who set us up for a couple of required (AKA expensive) tests and discussed our options with us. If you happen to be blessed with the fertility of hamsters, let me enlighten you. We can either A) have Muscles do his man-business in the waiting room and then insert the goods via turkey baster into the ol' hoo-hoo, or B) Muscles still has to handle his man-business in the waiting room, whilst they remove one of my eggs with a long needle, mix the two crazy kids together, and then put them back inside of me in hopes that they'll stick around, so to speak. Both are quite expensive, especially considering that most offspring find their way in there for somewhere around the cost of a cheap bottle of wine, say $9. Anyway, the turkey baster option is less expensive, maybe 1/4 or 1/3 of the cost of option B. However, the success rate of Option B is 3-5x better. Seeing as how we don't have any money trees at fruition, we are in quite the pickle.
So, I say to the Doc, "Which option do you think gives us the best chance to conceive ?"
And he says, "You tell me what you all want to do. I don't want to push anything."
And I say, "But, in your medical opinion, do you think Turkey Basting is a waste of our time?"
And he says, "Every couple is different. You all have to decide what you want to try."
And I say, "Did medical school not teach you how to form an O-P-I-N-I-O-N?!?"
Okay, that last part is a lie, but I wanted to say it. I hate decisions, especially big, life-changing, costly decisions. Of course, a child of our own is priceless to us, but that doesn't mean we want set his or her nursery up in the nice, large cardboard box we will be living in after spending our savings willy-nilly. But I concur, we decided with Doc to wait until after the preliminary testing is done before we made a decision. The results could have an impact.
Now, I have to muster up all the patience I can find in my anxious, only child soul. This is going to be a process, and such things do not operate on my schedule, I already find myself telling myself repeatedly. On the bright side, though, we can relax a smidge and dream a little about having a family. We have already thrown around names for twins (Kingston & Kate), chosen a room in our house for the nursery (upstairs, closest to our room), discussed parenting styles (and not quite agreed, of course), and become generally more accepting of this constant state of fear. Sincerely, I just hope it happens soon and without too much disappointment. I have been through quite a storm during the past couple of years, and I am ready for a BIG blessing. :)
The Best Place to Begin is at The Beginning
Unfortunately, that is not where I will be beginning this blog today. I don't like to backtrack. I get bogged down in words, descriptions, and accuracy. I would love to have my life catalogued neatly into journals, but I'm not a journal-completer. I am a self-professed Never-Finisher. I think the problem in the past has probably been my tendency to get overwhelmed by everything I feel is necessary to include. So, I will instead begin with an introduction to myself. For your convenience, I have put it into a cheesy MySpace-style survey. Enjoy.
Name: Kristy
Gender: Female
Age: Duh, 25.
Marital Status: Mostly happily married. Marriage, of course, has its days.
Living Arrangements: I live peacefully in the quasi-country in a large house (compared to our previous small house, not in general) with my quirky, child-like husband, and my 4 lovable pooches.
This is the part where I skip all the tacky questions about eye & hair color and other aspects of my appearance. I mean, really, does it matter? Get your mind out of the gutter.
Do you like anyone? By far, I think this is the most ree-diculous question in these things. Of course, I do. I am not a hobbit.
Who have you been friends with the longest? Technically, my dear hypochondriac friend Rachel, but I think Heather, the military wife, should get some play on this question too. I have known both of them for around 18 or 19 years, and they are still my very best friends. I'm quite proud of their ability to put up with me this long.
Are you close to your family? But of course! There may have been a time when I was not-so welcoming of my parents' company, but these days, I hardly go a day without talking to them or visiting. This is definitely something you should know about me.
How many siblings do you have? Also quite important (and probably quite telling), I am an only child.
What's the best feeling in the world? I mean, there's the obvious happiness, but I think this question is actually implying what feeling creates the most happiness for you. In my case, knowing that my family (including those friends I refer to as sisters) are happy. I think it provides a sense of security.
Let's move on to the all-important "Favorites" section. I'm getting bored...
What's your favorite...
Color: Hard to say. Red or white probably... but not really together.
Food: Oooh! This is a big one. I LOVE FOOD, but only good food. I love cooking and finding interesting restaurants to try.
Sport: I don't play sports. Period. I try sometimes when I'm tipsy and that's a big time, but I don't compete in sports activities. I LOVE watching WKU basketball and NFL football, however.
Blog: Yeah, I threw this one in for fun. It's Donald Miller's (author of Blue Like Jazz. Read it if you haven't.).
So... That wasn't as fun as I anticipated. Let's get to chronicling this 25 year old life I call my own...
Name: Kristy
Gender: Female
Age: Duh, 25.
Marital Status: Mostly happily married. Marriage, of course, has its days.
Living Arrangements: I live peacefully in the quasi-country in a large house (compared to our previous small house, not in general) with my quirky, child-like husband, and my 4 lovable pooches.
This is the part where I skip all the tacky questions about eye & hair color and other aspects of my appearance. I mean, really, does it matter? Get your mind out of the gutter.
Do you like anyone? By far, I think this is the most ree-diculous question in these things. Of course, I do. I am not a hobbit.
Who have you been friends with the longest? Technically, my dear hypochondriac friend Rachel, but I think Heather, the military wife, should get some play on this question too. I have known both of them for around 18 or 19 years, and they are still my very best friends. I'm quite proud of their ability to put up with me this long.
Are you close to your family? But of course! There may have been a time when I was not-so welcoming of my parents' company, but these days, I hardly go a day without talking to them or visiting. This is definitely something you should know about me.
How many siblings do you have? Also quite important (and probably quite telling), I am an only child.
What's the best feeling in the world? I mean, there's the obvious happiness, but I think this question is actually implying what feeling creates the most happiness for you. In my case, knowing that my family (including those friends I refer to as sisters) are happy. I think it provides a sense of security.
Let's move on to the all-important "Favorites" section. I'm getting bored...
What's your favorite...
Color: Hard to say. Red or white probably... but not really together.
Food: Oooh! This is a big one. I LOVE FOOD, but only good food. I love cooking and finding interesting restaurants to try.
Sport: I don't play sports. Period. I try sometimes when I'm tipsy and that's a big time, but I don't compete in sports activities. I LOVE watching WKU basketball and NFL football, however.
Blog: Yeah, I threw this one in for fun. It's Donald Miller's (author of Blue Like Jazz. Read it if you haven't.).
So... That wasn't as fun as I anticipated. Let's get to chronicling this 25 year old life I call my own...
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