Last week this was in my fortune cookie. Well, actually,
my fortune said something about "finding pleasure at the seaside" (wtf) and then long after the kids were asleep, Hal found an extra fortune at the bottom of our take-out bag and I was like, "Hal! Let's open this and it can be our
family fortune!" And then Hal was all, "cool!" And I was like, "woo" and then Hal bit the thing in half and this is what the fortune said.
This was our "family" fortune:
Sing it, Revi:
I didn't sleep for three days after that, even though I knew full well I wasn't pregnant. (Day EIGHT of my period, right here, folks. Sorry TMI but I Paragard apparently stands for "EPIC PERIOD CENTRAL.")
Okay so now I'm typing without a parenthesis. I've ditched the parenthesis because I have more to say on this IUD situation and parentheses cannot contain me. Parentheses cannot contain this perpetual period machine!
In fact, period is the wrong word for what I'm dealing with.
This? Is an elipsis, you guys. I am on my elipsis.
My periods used to last three days. Well, four, but only the first two were "serious" and even those days were
nothing compared to what I'm dealing with now. I've never had to use anything more than a SUPER tampon on my heaviest days. Now? I have super extra XXXLLLLLXLXLXLX tampons coupled with the kind of pads I had to wear postchildbirth. And I have to sleep on a towel.
This is not a joke.
I'm not trying to gross you out. I'm telling you this because I love you and you have a right to know that the Paragard is killing me slowly and I am bleeding to death goodbye cruel world.
Not really.
But the rest is all true.
Also true: I'd rather bleed half the month than
lose my hair and/or be pregnant again and I'm not ready to do anything permanent to my body and no I will not pressure Hal into having a vasectomy. (
He controls his body and I control mine.)
Are you still reading?
Are you with me?
Sorry.
I'm done now.
(.)
And by (.) I mean (...). I mean (...!!!!!!!!)
Wait! Don't go. I promise I'm done writing about periods. I'm done writing about periods and now I'm going to write about bedroom decor because I spent all day pacing Archer and Fable's bedroom yesterday with a pile of stuff and no idea where to put any of it.
And then I went on Pinterest, something I never do, and remembered why I never do it. All of that perfection is way too intimidating.
I've never been comfortable sitting on a white couch, you know what I mean? I am legit fearful of sitting anywhere near a white couch (or chair) and I feel like Pinterest is the "white couch" of the Internet and everyone is like, "come, sit down and make yourself comfortable on my white loveseat" but I'd rather stand, actually. I'd rather stand than sit on the white couch that I will undoubtably stain.
Or maybe I'm just using it wrong?
Am I using it wrong?
Anyway. My inspiration board is this: fall in love with stuff. Buy stuff. Cross fingers that stuff will find a way to look awesome, or in this case, awesome enough that kids will be stoked on their digs.
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| Archer's corner = skyline for his city building/Tomica play. |
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| Fable picking out wall art c/o a lovely sketch artist and former costume designer, melrose trading post |
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... which we then framed c/o Aaron Brothers' sale rack
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Over the weekend we celebrated our two month housiversary (only 358 mortgage payments to go!) and next Thursday Bo and Revi turn one.
One year as in twelve months.
As in (extended pointer finger) this many.
As in, "bye bye, babies."
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And maybe it's the "elipsis" talking, but I feel genuinely sad to see them off and into their second year...
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