post to cover up the last post i wrote which was probably very unpopular with people who think my life is better than fine so i should just shut up

When my girls want to taste some of my beverage they ask me if they can have a 'zip'.
'Mami, can i have a zip of your drink?'

My drive to pick up Dellah from school today was very different.

I usually walk around in a sort of uninspired haze like I do things and I'm happy and I feel joy but I'm not thinking anything new, you know? Not feeling myself contributing to a collective intelligence pool in the sky.

Well today I was driving alone (perhaps this is the key to original thought?) because Gabriel was home with Ruby and I got this actual flood of information about a story that I started writing in school 10 years ago. What she was motivated by and how he got there and who were her relatives and why did they matter and what were their relationships like and why and how to explain this or that thing and how the one book should actually be two and this is what they should say.

I started to cry because the feeling of an actual surge of thoughts and ideas was so different and exhilarating compared to my normal life.
I started writing these things down on the back of a wal mart receipt as fast as I could in the pick-up line at preschool and my mind was flying. So many things making sense about this one story that's been dormant for so long. Maybe that little story needs to come out and be a real thing.
i thank the Lord for some small manna to sustain my feelings of having once been a person who was pretty clever. There was as much adrenaline right then as there is after 4 miles on an elliptical machine.

I bet if I were super duper productive I would be very, very thin.

march 25th 10:49am.
original thought = $0

how good my 7-11 hot chocolate and donut tasted after said thought = priceless.

one post to make everyone uncomfortable and wish I hadn't written it

Do you know what it means every time I start my period....AGAIN!
it means another month of realizing that I'm not pregnant and my baby is going to be 4 in 4 weeks and I feel like the butt of a seriously un-funny joke.
two kids in 5 minutes and then I actually want a baby really, super bad and oops....sorry.....all out.
no babies for you.
I adore my children. I think they are the cutest, funniest, cleverest folks. I guess there's only supposed to be two of them.
there is a weird feeling like I'm not worthy or some crap like I haven't done a good enough job with my two so I don't get three?
teenagers and hyperlame people get babies the way I used to get babies....without even trying. Super nice people also get babies and get to plan their children and say, "I think I want my children 2 years and 3 months apart.....well, looky there....I'm pregnant!"
I love pregnant people. I love children. I love procreation.
I am allowed to have this one little blog where I hate everyone and all people with working reproductive tools.
there are people who can't have even one kid.
I'm not trying to please the world and pretend that I'm not sad for my own isolated experience unrelated to anyone else's experience with infertility/singleness/whatever.
I'm just mad right now that for the 16th month I have woken up on some random day different than the month before and realized that I'm not getting to throw up for 40 weeks and increase my body mass index by 47% and raise my stress level exponentially and be hooked up to an i.v. every so often to replenish my fluids.
i aspire to the sickness that ends in life.

as if there weren't enough things i feel inadequate about. as if it's a bad thing to be married and happy and financially stable and want another kid to teach and protect and love.

whatever, tampax pearl.
bring it on.

seriously

Who in the world knew that there were so many MORE things to be stressed out about than you first expected when having children. First of all, no one tells you that it really hurts when they take the placenta out of you after your baby comes out of you and no one tells you that the amount of debilitating tiredness after you have your baby makes you not remember anything and be ugly and it kind of never goes away. THEN they don't tell you that you should have appreciated your breasts in all their imperfections before because AFTER the children you are a grim shadow of your former breastness.

Then your children get larger and you're trying to make sure they have the right amounts of vitamins and wardrobe changes and meals and pacifiers that match their wardrobe changes and scriptures read to them every day and proper amounts of spanish pop music and english good music and classical music and wholesome videos and phonics and staying in the lines coloring and classic children's books read to them daily and newer children's books read to them daily and all of those books bought and read in english and spanish and timely potty training and intellectually stimulating toys and frivolous toys that mean nothing and toys that you always wanted as a child that are really for you and not your children and time spent playing on outdoor play structures and frolicking with correct amounts of SPF and positive reinforcement of good behavior and reproving betimes with sharpness and the whole increase of love afterward and preparing them to be kind to others but not so kind that they're wusses and not too mean to have to sit alone at lunch and not say "that man has a really big belly" right in front of 'that man' and kisses and hugs and endearing them to you above all others through whatever shameless methods available......

then you realize they have to go to school and have hobbies?

who is supposed to tell you what school to go to and when you even register a kid for school? Nobody tells people how to do these things. And what are my kids supposed to be good at for THE REST OF THEIR LIVES? and if I don't start them in these things last year preferably they're going to be dreadfully behind.

seriously.
who has time to make sure your children are talented, educated, safe, spiritual, beautiful, clever, quirky, funny, charming, scholarly and popular with other preschoolers? and take a shower?

impossible.
I mostly just sit with the yellow pages and think to myself....."Erin...what would you want to do if you were 3 and insane and unable to pay attention and only liked to whine and, while whining, bounced up and down in an incredibly annoying way? what about if you were 4 and thought you were the most talented person alive and already knew everything about everything and were
only being obedient when compelled by mortal fear of repercussions?"

I'm making light of a thing that haunts me daily. I'm not from Utah you know? I don't know where to take a kid for the best ballet classes or where to go for piano or violin lessons or theater workshops or singing lessons or soccer or whatever the hell else it is that every other person seems to have their children in and I don't.

Does the dad ever worry about these things enough to find out/register/lose sleep?
not in my experience.

mmmm.....the smell of....what IS that smell anyway?

Nothing smells or anything around here, I just thought I'd pique your interest by making you think something did.
This week I only took a couple of showers so it could very well be me that smells but you know you can never smell yourself the way you are smelled by others. I actually tried sprinkling baby powder on my hair to absorb some of the unshowerdness of it all on Wednesday and I was in a hurry so I didn't realize until later that I looked like one of the British Parliament members. Erin...baby powder is white. Your hair is super dark brown. What are you thinking? invest in a portable mirror already so you don't disgrace yourself further.

I wrote last time about how I was going to go to DI and I was going to write after coming home that day before I got sidetracked that I think Satan lives in DI. I love mormons and I AM a mormon and we obviously abhor Satan and his minions but that beneficent place of global welfare service is filled with things that jump into your cart and make you buy them at small invisible gunpoint. I feel so strong when I'm in the parking lot and then the cryptonite-laden doors open and it's all over. Possessed I tell you. Eeeeeeeviiiilllll.
problematic.

I am on a cash only basis now people. Money is so much harder to spend when it's actually money, you know? I'm like, '5 dollars at Taco Bell! Now i only have a five and a ten left out of that 20 dollar bill!" I have stayed within my budget for two whole months now thanks to my little leather pouch with sections for miscellaneous, food and Costco money.
are you bored yet?
I kind of am.
I'll put you out of your misery now.
there are oreo mcflurries to buy, freeze and then eat while frozen. I'm swamped.