return to sender

do not want.

I don't want to be pregnant. in fact...(keeping it real here)...I don't want another baby.

do.not.want.

not at all.

call me selfish. call me careless. call me completely fucked...but that's how I feel.

I've already got a baby and he requires a good dose of attention and care...and frankly, that's about all I've got in me.

I want just a smidge of my life back. I'm not talking cocktails, tailgating, and my figure. all completely meaningless, pointless and not of my concern.

my desires are way less superficial and much more basic.

I want sleep. strength. health and exercise.

I want to climb. I want to ride...and I want to be able to nap after doing so.

I haven't slept through the night in 16 months. its driving me absolutely fucking crazy (obvious much?).

I am tired. I'm weak. I'm dizzy and I'm nauseated enough to consider killing myself and this embryo.

don't want.

(un?)fortunately, I'm of the moral fiber that abortion isn't even close to being an option. I'm BY NO MEANS a conservative, christian or even particularly judgemental...

but I can't do it.

wish I could. (REALLY wish I could)

can't do it.

my body can't take much more of this. I don't do pregnant well. I'm sickly, drained, bedraggled and ill.

I look like I'm dying. not exaggerating that. oqui actually apologized to me the other day for killing me...slowly...via pregnancy.

I FEEL LIKE I'M DYING.

the newborn days and nursing were no better for me. I couldn't eat like a real person for a year. always fatigued. always exhausted. trouble breathing.

I'm convinced I've digested portions of my heart, lungs and liver.

I'm not strong enough to do this, again. honestly...my body (and mind) have had enough.

I've been a parent my entire adult life. even before the technical start of "adulthood."

I want a break.
I need a break.


I DON'T need another baby....and there's nothing I can do about it.

unpossible

we are supposed to settle on the new house in 8 days.

ummm...no.

long story (INCREDIBLY LONG STORY) short:

-dude filed for bankruptcy 3 years ago and didn't disclose it. awesome. now the court must be involved to approve the sale, but first...

-dude has to be declared mentally competent to enter into a contract/undergo bankrupty proceedings/wipe his own ass, etc.

yes. he was declared incompetent 11 (ELEVEN FUCKING) years ago, had the deed to his home (the one we're trying to buy) transferred to his grandfather, had it transferred back when he got married WITHOUT REVERSING THE INCOMPETENCE RULING, and now the title to the home is completely fucked.

we MUST settle on this (or any other) home before November 30 in order to get the 8 grand tax credit.

so not gonna happen.

I'm livid, concerned and more nauseous than ever.

honest to god WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO LIVE???

my ex-husband is coming back for this house in 8 days...

sure hope he likes having roomies.

penis poisoning

I'm pregnant.

but too sick to talk about it in any detail.

when I stop wishing for death, I'll elaborate.

until that time...ladies, do what you can to avoid penis poisoning.

Professor Formula Breath

taking itty bittle minor steps to start weaning the Prof...

including that nasty rotting flesh formula.

he has taken (and by taken I mean he's SMITTEN with) to a cup with a straw, so I've been trying to sneak the occassional ounce or so of horse piss (ie. formula) into his wooby cup...appropriately diluted with juice, pedialyte or motor oil...you know, to improve the taste.

so far...I've gotten about 6 ounces in him. total. in 11 months.

we're obviously gonna have to take this slowly...

in non-formula weaning news; oqui got him to sleep last night without my help. hell...I wasn't even here.

the kid went to sleep without nursing, slept the entire night (who IS he???) and I woke up feeling like my chest was going to explode.

fun. fun. fun.

but...it must be done, at least to some extent.

I need the rest...