A cluttered kitchen. A woman sitting at her built-in desk at the counter with a growing belly and smashed peas on her shirt. Toys are strewn about. The TV is on the Discovery Channel and the husband watches toddler throw bits of puzzle in between theories of evolution and shows of Ancient Egypt.
The Half-Witted-Almost-Congruent Thought Process
Yesterday we attended a funeral for Mr. Flinger’s Grandpa. In my life I’ve lost all three Grandparents. I’ve been grandparent-less now for three years. Mr. Flinger, though, has been mostly grandparent-less for a week and that realization is never easy.
We were able to take part in the celebration of a man’s life of 84 years. We gathered with family, some we... Read more
We dropped off Oma today. Just let me tell you, Internet, that if you ever take your Mom to the airport with your toddler and you know you can’t go far because of security and you’re pregnant and hormonal and lonely, just get out of the damn car and go in with her anyway. Saying goodbye in the street with the taxis and baggage carriers all over the place will not give you any closure and you’ll probably start bawling before you hit the freeway. And not stop until you get home 45 minutes later.
I had this intense feeling of alone again once we dropped her off. Just, alone. A-L-O-N-E. I know that I’m not a single mom but a work day is not 8 hours and a SAHM does not just work from 9-5. It’s the long... Read more
We recently ventured downtown to take some pictures with Oma. It was fun, for the most part, to pretend to be tourist in the city we live in. It was fun, that is, until I’d view a picture we took and realize I look fat. I have a very round face now. I actually don’t weigh that much more than I did just a few weeks ago. I weigh less than I did with LB at this point and I’m able to wear my same pants I couldn’t get over my hips for 6 months post partum before. So why the puffy round face?
It’s my feck and I get it every pregnancy.
You know how some people bloat up in their ankles and get the stylish and oh-so-posh ankles that blend into their calves? You know how everyone lovingly refers to that as cankles? I have a face that bloats up... Read more
Obviously you still high tail it out to dinner and wish her luck with the toddler and her bucket o’ alcohol yelling, “Medicine for her cold is in the bathroom and her PJ’s are on the floor in her room” as the door hits you in the ass on the way out.
We had a great time. LB was still alive when we got home and Oma was only *slightly* tipsy. Then we all brought in the new year like only the lamest people on earth can: