Thursday morning rant

I was ill this last weekend. Maybe it was tiredness, or maybe simply some sort of a winter bug, but I got up in the morning feeling already tired; no appetite; a while later nausea. I went back to bed leaving The Man and The Kid and The Dog in the kitchen; and returned a while later feeling I was about to vomit.

As I stood there by the kitchen sink ready to projectile into the back corner where it doesn't splash up (I've had a lot of exercise, I know) I thought, am I pregnant again? Surely not. Can't be, or at least it doesn't make sense - it doesn't fit, timewise.

Or am I?

And then I thought, jesus, is that it now, three months of this, again? And then I felt that familiar sort of tiredness, the one where I wake up in the morning, having even not moved in the bed yet, nauseous already, and thinking, here we go again, another day.

But no, I was back on my feet again Sunday morning. So that's not it. Just an illness. Phew! And I was relieved and sort of sad at the same time, which is so totally weird still because, I mean, holy cow, I'm really getting used to the idea, ain't I.

For such a long time we've been talking about it with The Man and I've kept on saying, no, thanks, I'm good. I don't really want another one. (Sort of how we'd talk if we were out in town somewhere eating ice cream and he'd suggest we get another one - another ice cream.)

And now I think about pregnancy and it doesn't fill me with, you know - dread.

(Whoa! Did I just write that?)

So, yeah, Thursday morning. The Kid is grizzly as, The Dog has chewed up another toy and I'm about to head out and go paint a fire station building.

Friday - I'm so looking forward to Friday.

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