Intrauterine Terrorism

My uterus is a terrorist.

It is because of my uterus that I spent all night in the hospital AGAIN instead of at home, where I could be asleep by now. But NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. My uterus had other plans entirely.

WARNING: CONTINUING READING THIS BLOG POST MAY POSSIBLY MAKE YOU FEEL SCARED AND OR DISTURBED.

Last October, my uterus decided that it was going to with hold my period from me for four months. Unfortunately, it decided to release ALL of the hormones that cause PMS so instead of a period I had PMS. Every single day. For almost four months.

I took pregnancy tests, thinking that might be the problem. Nope.

I went to the doctor, thinking it was that stupid cyst on my ovary, or that maybe the pregnancy tests were wrong? Nope. But they put me on pills for a UTI that I didn't know I had. One day after I took the pills, I started my period. Thank God. For once, I was happy to see the little bitch rear it's ugly head. Life was back to normal.

Until two weeks ago.

I got my period again. Yay! I'm still un-impregnanted! But this time, it's accompanied with some of the worst pain in my life, dizziness, headaches and nausea. So, after two weeks of bleeding like a stuck pig, Fiance dragged me to the hospital. Mostly because I sat down in the middle of Kroger and said I was going to sleep. (Blood loss apparently got to me, though I just thought I was tired).

What I've learned from the doctor:

1. That I have another cyst on my ovary. I "complex" cyst. If it gets worse, it shall need to be surgically removed. This cyst is on my right, and is a bigger terrorist group than the cyst that is on my left, which while annoying, isn't as kick-ass as the thing on my right. 
2. My uterus is indeed the terrorist backing both terrorist movements.
3. Starting tomorrow, an anti-terrorist group (birth control) will force its way into my system, attacking not only the two smaller terrorist groups, and putting the uterus' cocky ass back in it's fucking place.
4. It's really uncomfortable to get a pelvic exam when the doctor looks like Joel Osteen. 

The funny thing is, that the uterus is doing this simply so I will reproduce and pop spawn out into this world. However, because I have yet to comply with this "oh-so-simple" request, my uterus is throwing a temper tantrum. It is currently thrashing about and stomping its metaphorical feet because it wants a baby and I am refusing it. My other organs do not like it. I do not like it. I would like to be able to move out of a fetal position, or to watch Disney movies, or any other movies/tv shows/commercials for that matter, without either getting angry or bursting into tears. And I would like sleep.

 And guess what, uterus? These two terrorist factions that you've put on each of my ovaries are doing more harm that good. You hear that? There's a chance that if they don't go away, and get to where they have minds of their own and do not listen to you at all, that I may have to remove my ovaries. You know what that means, right? NO BABIES. EVER. And you would only have yourself to blame for it.

Personally, I would like to keep my ovaries, seeing as AFTER I FUCKING GRADUATE I plan on putting them to their purpose and if you don't stop throwing your little bitch-fits, that will never happen.

We will do things on MY TERMS, Uterus, not yours. I do not negotiate with terrorists. You think I'm scared of you? Well, if I was, then I wouldn't start birth control just to regulate your moody ass, since you either decide to show up randomly, on my doorstep, in say, the middle of a Final OR you show up late for your shift and I worry that you did what you wanted without giving me a heads up, in which case I would seriously consider removing you.

That's right. Removing you. I do not need you to survive. I can live without you just fine. You are just really stretchy muscle or skin or whatever you are, and if I really didn't want to have children, I can just get them to suck you out. But, since I do want to have children eventually, I will keep you Uterus. But you will stop your bitching. Or I will cut you.

A Day in the Life of a Stay-At-Home-College-Student-Mother

8:30 am - Kick blankets off.

8:32 am - Have Fiance put blankets back on.

8:33 am - Kick blankets off again.

8:34 am - Fiance puts blankets on again, groans, and make sure I can't get out of blankets again, though I manage to wiggle a foot free.

9:45 am - Awoken by "I'm awake!" from Little Miss' room. Groan. Shove Fiance to get out of bed, only to have him shove me back.

10:00 am - Fiance's alarm goes off. He gets up and goes get Little Miss, I go downstairs and pull out milk and chop up bananas into cereal.

10:15 am - Fiance leaves for work. By this time Spongebob is on and while I'm trying to find my planner, Little Miss is chowing down on cheerios with bananas and blueberries, and a nice tall cup of milk.

10:30 am - 2 pm - Little Miss runs around strewing various toys around the house, while I attempt to do homework, but instead end up having to chase her around the house to make sure she doesn't destroy everything.

2:00 pm - 4:00 pm - Quiet time. Little Miss plays quietly in her room and I play on Facebook do a little bit of homework or housework without having her get underfoot.

4:00 pm - 5:00 pm - I start to cook dinner.

5:00 pm - 5:30 pm  - Little Miss and I eat dinner and watch an episode of Dora or Spongebob.

5:30 pm - 6:50 pm - She plays or we watch a movie.

6:50 pm - 7:00 pm - Brush teeth, put on pajamas, and read a bedtime story.

7:00 pm - Bedtime! The best part of the day.

7:00 pm - 9:00 pm - Homework

9:00 pm: Fiance comes home, usually bearing pizza.

9:30 pm - 1 am - Watch TV or a movie with Fiance until one or both of us pass out/drag the other to bed.

Of course, sometime between the time we go to bed, and the time we wake up, Little Miss usually wakes up with a wet diaper or a bad dream, in which case we're up with her until we can convince her to go back to sleep. Or she'll use the curtains to climb out of bed and come into our room to inform us that she had a good nap.

Silly, silly child.

Curiousity Finished

So, Valentine's Day has come and gone, and it was a good one.

The first present happened to be Fiance's parents taking Little Miss for a couple of days. That was great. She had a blast (probably because she got spoiled rotten since Grandparents have no idea what time out is) but was happy to come home last night and sleep in her big girl bed (which she got because she decided to pull the bars off of her other bed, so a new bed was in order. We were still pretty pissed though). And even though we missed her, we loved being able to sleep in and not hear screaming in the morning.

The trip to the grandparents was also very much needed on my end. While I love her, I have homework I needed to get done. Also, she bit my nipple when I was trying to wash soap out of her hair. That hurt. I cried hysterically into the phone talking to Future Mother-In-Law (and then on the phone with Fiance) asking her to please take her for a couple of days. Future Mother-In-Law had to call Fiance to translate, but in the end, it was all sorted out and Little Miss went to bed while I iced my nipple in misery on the sofa. 

I got my presents at midnight on Valentine's Day, while watching Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time with Fiance. I got a Love Bug named George, from Build-A-Bear (so I can squeeze him and love him and hug him...) and inside of George's little box of chocolate was a gold snowflake necklace. It's so pretty. And yes, I will add pictures later.

He got what he wanted too - a back scratcher. We went into Bed, Bath and Beyond and found a back scratcher and he immediately started using it. We also went into Lindt Chocolate, where we both got chocolate, and Yankee Candle, where he got candles. This was followed by dinner at CiCi's Pizza (I don't like it, but he does, so we went there) and then a night of card games, drinking and movies with a friend who decided to stay at our house. It was a nice day overall. And my cats were happy, because my curiosity could kill a million cats. Though, I think Brother a.k.a. Simple Cat is still wobbly from a week of exposure to curiosity.

I hope everyone else had a nice Valentine's Day too!

I'm Free!

For now, anyway. My aunt has so wonderfully decided to take Little Miss off of my hands for me while I go relax. This is very, very welcome. Little Miss has been absolutely terrible - a side effect of the terrible two's, I'm afraid, and I need some time away from her so I can relax and rejuvenate my patience and all that jazz.

My mother decides to tell me this makes me a bad mom. No, it doesn't. I'm a stay-at-home mom, and full-time college student who never gets any time alone anymore. If I didn't get out and away every now and then, I just might scream and rip my hair out. Especially with the fact that Little Miss' favorite new phrase is "I hate you." And the fact that she ignores everything I say. And rolls her eyes. I cannot stand the eye-rolling. She's two! She shouldn't be rolling her eyes yet.

So here I am, hiding out in the school computer lab, in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie which loudly proclaim "I'm a frazzled mom and I don't care anymore" wishing there was someway I could sneak back home and go to sleep (which there isn't). Instead, I will settle for studying for psychology, working on my short story and fucking around on Facebook.

Also print out my resume, because I need a job.

Of course, I'm not really all that sure if I should go dropping off resumes looking like I just rolled out of bed. That probably wouldn't go over well with future employers.

So Much For Smelling Good

So, Valentine's Day is coming up. That dreadful time of year where everything is covered in Pepto Bismal pink and little naked men with wings and arrows (i.e. Cupid) are sprinkled all over the place. So many people make such a big deal about this day created by Hallmark and various candy companies...and I'm guilty too.

Is the reason why I'm so into Valentine's Day this year is because I have someone to share it with. No, that's not it.

The truth is that dear Fiance has plans for next Monday, and refuses to tell me what they are. I abhor surprises. I HAVE to know what will happen. Finding out surprises becomes an obsession that I will not rest until I know what it is, and he knows this. He takes a sick pleasure in my trying to coax, force, bash the answer out of him. And he doesn't even crack.

However, this presents a problem for me. I have no idea what I'm going to do for him. What in the hell would I do for him? A card? Lela will shred it. Food? I'm pretty much a one dish kinda gal, and that is mac and cheese. I have no clue.

His suggestion is a backscratcher and a blowjob. My friend has suggested in covering myself with chocolate sauce, but I'm not a big fan of that idea either. And so far, his suggestion will probably mean the most out of everything, sadly enough.

And the Little Miss doesn't even know what Valentine's Day is, but will probably accept it as Candy Day and drive us insane on a sugar high, while pointing out that everything is pink. Especially while pointing out that everything is pink.

Like my $50 perfume, which she dumped out all over the bed last night. Grrrrrr.