Efff.

I would say, "that is all" but that is not even close to being 'all'.

I'm sick. Again.

This time its what I call normal people sick because its the flu. It is a very rare thing that I become normal people sick so when I do, its bad. At least I think so. In reality, it just makes me look wussy because I can't handle it. Give me cysts, surgical pain, pelvic pain, cramps so bad I pass out.... that stuff, I can handle. Throw in a few horrendous nosebleeds and a migraine for good measure and I can function just fine. That is all stuff I have every day for ever since I can remember. Normal people sick though, is rough. See, wuss.

I've also been feeling very.... I guess the word would be bitter. Its a lot of other things mixed in too but really, bitter sums it up pretty well. A couple weeks ago I was driving with a friend and somehow we got on the topic of babies and all my um, issues. She suggested I become a crack head and my chances of a successful pregnancy and delivery would shoot through the roof. I laughed because its probably true but then it was forgotten. Until yesterday.

Yesterday I got to talk to my husband. I rarely use that word because it doesn't seem nearly enough. Mr. Superman is so much more than a husband to me. He is the kindest, gentlest, most sincere person I have ever met let alone been lucky enough to have in my life. He is the reason I am here, alive, and even half as happy as I am. He is incredible and I could go on and on and on, but I digress. I was talking to him about EVERYTHING. It was a day fraught with heavy and difficult conversation the topics of which I only share a very tiny portion on the blog.

By the tail end of his day off and thus the end of our conversations, Mr. Superman said something. We were talking about all the kids I have potty trained and how when we have kids, the plan I already have to get our kiddies out of diapers by the time they are 2 1/2. We were joking around and he said, "You'll be so good you'll have them potty trained before they even leave the womb." There was silence for a moment as he realized what he said and the "Oh crap!" face made an appearance. I started crying and he was apologizing profusely.

This led to my bitterness rising up again. I said, "I should go become a crack head whore then we'd have no issues having babies. Or better yet, find a time machine, go back to 16, and get knocked up without even trying! Hey, I have an idea, why don't we completely change who we are. No wait, listen. You go ahead and only wear wife beaters and let your wardrobe influence your behavior. If you get a beer gut and slap me around a bit combined with me developing a heroine habit, we would be able to get adoptable foster babies without even making social workers blink as they hand them over."

I know, I sound incredibly cynical and resentful. I won't even attempt to deny it. You'd think we'd have experienced intense antagonism lately or something. 

I wish I could go and do this

 Because I have been doing this for far too long.