I think I like stabbing myself repeatedly...

Mentally, at least.

I tend to dig up things that shouldn't be dug up. Just to inflict the pain upon myself. Friendships or old relationships that really don't need to be rememebered, people who I haven't spoken to for years, that sort of thing.

And, then, of course, I contact these people... and have nothing to say. "Oh, hey, remember me from, uh, four years ago? Yeah! How are you?" You can only keep a conversation going for so long when you start off like that.

Why can't I just let things go? I dunno. Maybe it's nostalgia. Maybe it's masochism. Maybe i'm yearning for that time when such-and-such was going good or who knows, maybe I'm just fucking lonely.

Despite having friends, none of them are close... and even if they were, they're not the kind of friends you attach yourself too, you know? I'm really hoping school will help this, because I'm a bit sick of being alone.

Anyway, kudos. Just had to think out loud.

My... head... ugh

I swear I have a headache the size of Montana. Pounding, throbbing, right behind my left eye. It's driving me kookoo.

Ben came home two hours early yesterday because he wasn't feeling good. He walked in, went "Oh, Mori exploded the house!", looking around. I giggled. "Honey, she does this every day... I just spend a half hour frantically cleaning it up before you get home!"

So now he's seen the carnage that is our daughter.

Do you think an IPod would be considered a "school expense" if I used it at school? Cause, yeah, on that two hour drive, I'd like to have some music. Yaknow, to listen to.

I had this weird dream about school last night... Basically I want going to classes and I kept going to the wrong one, but I didn't have a copy of my schedule so I didn't know which one to go to? And a couple of people from high school were there, making fun of me because I kept going to the wrong class. So, of course, this morning I jumped on here and memorized my schedule... again. It hasn't changed in two weeks.

We close on the house in a couple of weeks, too. We finally sold it... Got a little less than Ben wanted but enough to pay off his bike, which will free up $200/month to pay off everything else. Helllllloooooo, snowball! I also plan on stealing a good portion of the sale money to repay the stupid student loan and get it over with so I either don't have to borrow again or can pay off what I'm supposed to be borrowing. I've heard so many horror stories about student loans that I don't really want to mess with them, but I also don't have the $500 or so out of pocket that it'll cost for all my books, calculator, supplies, etc. Sooo... give and take, I guess.

We have a visitor until monday... a (looks purebred) Boxer puppy who I found trotting limply down the side of the road. His front paw is pretty much mashed... If we had the money for the vet, I'd keep him, but it'll cost a good $200-1000 just to fix up his paw, and we just don't have it... So I guess Monday he goes to the dog shelter, where they will probably put him down because THEY can't afford to fix his paw either. :-/ He doesn't have tags on, but he does have collars, so maybe he's chipped and they can scan the chip. And figure out who he belongs to. He seems like a real sweet dog, and I hate to think they won't take care of him. :-/

Anyway, that's all for now. I'm going to go curl up with my book and enjoy the half an hour I get while Mori naps. Tata!

16 Days 'til Schooooooolllll

I'm so. freaking. excited.

School starts the 30th, which is in 16 days. The day after school starts, we have our first midwife appointment. The next week or so after that, we'll have our first ultrasound.

But mostly I'm excited about school. Loan money should be coming in within the next week or so, in which case I will quickly flee to the book store on campus and load up on everything from binders to a $150 calculator. And then, for two blessed days a week, I will be 'stuck' at school. All day. 10am to 8pm. And, (forgive me if this is a horrible thing to say) Mori won't be with me. Don't get me wrong, I love my daughter to pieces, but I literally can't remember the last time I have gone anywhere without her. Even for just an hour.

And then there's the whole career thing. Obviously I'm excited to be finally on track. Within two years, (maybe 2 1/2, due to baby #2) I should be graduated. I can pick up a part-time job as a tech. And also hopefully go to OSU for a zoology Bachelor's. And then? Once the kids are in school? Hello, grad school!

Also, I will be 12 weeks pregnant next week, which gives me one week for my hormones to settle before school. Hopefully the nausea, food aversion, etc etc will fade away after the first trimester.... if I remember right, it did with Mori.

Speaking of pregnancy, I've noticed a few things different about it this time around. A few things are the same, like not wanting to be near milk or eggs, but there's a few subtle differences too. Like, this time around, I'm not puking as much, however, I have more cravings and food aversions. Last time I would eat anything, but I'd have to puke it back up.

Also this time I'm remarkably horny and gassy... not a good combination. And why do we shorten 'combination' to 'combo'? It's not combOnation. Curious.

The past few days I've also been feeling more energetic and 'up'. For two or three weeks there, it was hell... I didn't do *anything*. Now, I'm back to my old half-assed cleaning routines and such. Yesterday I even vacuumed! And this past few days I've been working on cleaning out our linen closet and bagging up half of our 10,000 sheets and blankets for charity. Next, I think I'll tackle the kitchen... I'm already decluttering our clothes as they go through the wash. Mori's toys need to be gone through, but most of them are okay. We've got a million books that we never read but I absolutely hate getting rid of books, so we need to find a new storage system... right now the bookcases look like props from a B-rated horror flick... You know, reaching towards you with clawed books, saying "Come! Come read me!"

The chicken house is almost done. All the framing and the roof are done, but we need to stick the tin up on the sides and add in the nest boxes. We put in the order for the chicks... in a few weeks, we'll have 50 baby chicks delivered right to our door! How... weird.

I also want to get into beekeeping. Ben does too. I'm thinking for his birthday (October) I might get "him" a starter hive... and then get some bees for it next spring. Of course, it wouldn't be for "him", it would be for "us", but lets not split hairs. XD

The chickens ate my grapes, which really need to be planted. It looks like the stupid bunbun got to my strawberries because there is one plant that looks nibbled at, and it's dying. Cody dug a bunch of holes in our corn field, and the tomato plants are brown. Obviously we need to plan this whole garden thing better. XD

Kudos!

My one and only fear about babies...

In general, pregnancy, birth, and kids don't scare me. I'm very confidant with my body, especially after having Mori, and honestly I'm looking forward to the actual labor. Of course, the pregnancy kinda sucks, but oh well, it's liveable.

The thing that terrifies me the most about parenting is the chance that we could have a special needs/early/something-wrong situation. This is why I refuse to have more than three children... in fact, two is stretching it.

Warning: This next paragraph is heartless.

This fear of having a "something-wrong" child stems from a deep-belief in Darwin's theory of evolution. In this day and age, that kind of thinking gets people in trouble. The way I think: I am a healthy, smart, female... I mated with a healthy, smart, male. We have things to give to the society. Therefor, any mutated, not-healthy offspring we have are not fit to carry our genes, and therefor shouldn't reproduce. To me, 'bad' offspring would be inferior. I would not be able to take care of them.

I have a good friend who had a placenta rupture very early on in her pregnancy. The baby was saved (he was 25? weeks, I think.), but will most likely have mental and physical problems his whole life. This situation terrifies me, because if it was me on that table getting C-sectioned, that early on, I would not let them save the baby. It sounds heartless, it really does, but to me, it's common sense. What would that baby ever have to give to the world? In nature, back when we were 'animals', would that baby have lived? No. He wouldn't have. The chances even of mom living would have been slim.

But in this time period, we don't think like that. We coddle. We "help" Nature by saving a life here, prolonging life there. We play god, determining who lives and dies. To believe that Nature knows what it's doing is "heartless", or "disturbing", or "insensitive" or worse. I've been called an "emotional enuch" because I mentioned if I had an early baby, I would probably request no "playing god". If I can't have a healthy baby, I don't want a baby, at all. Because, honestly, I would not be able to care for it. I would not, emotionally, be able to handle it. This is why I hope, and I pray, that this birth will be normal.

I see it in Nature all the time. In my future-career, it will come up. People euthanize animals because of this. They're deformed, so they're put down. They're in pain, so they're put down. It makes sense to me. There are no live-saving methods for a bitch who's just had a stillborn puppy... It's accepted that there was something wrong with that puppy, and he wouldn't have lived anyway. Hell, horses are put down because they're leg is broken, because the effort and time and resources it would take to heal are more than the worth of the horse, 90% of the time.

This is why I could never work with humans, medically. I could never, ever. I would be sued before my first day was over, because humans are worth more than "animals", and Nature's way doesn't apply to us. And, sorry, the whole "But that premature baby you 'killed' could have grown up to cure cancer!" thing doesn't hit me. I don't believe that putting a child, or a parent, through that much emotional trauma, medical trauma, perhaps physical pain, is worth the .0000000001% chance. Call me heartless, callous, or whatever. It's how I think.