Well, if ever I had the desire for a fourth child... I now have one. A big, balding, baby with a preference for TSN and mid 80's Sci-Fi Movies. His name is Geoff.
Into our second week of both staying at home, and things are getting dicey. Like, yesterday he says he's going to make me breakfast in bed today. So I waited in bed until 10:15, waiting. No breakfast was forthcoming, and I had all the kids in bed with me. I went out to the living room to see what he was up to. Sleeping on the couch. So I went into the kitchen and made a big production of making breakfast, and he was like "well I was going to make you breakfast" and I was like "well, SweetiePie,- it's almost lunch time now." And he was like "well, what??its ten o'clock." (You have to say that in a dumb voice) I was like "10 is the new 12, OK??" I mean, to think that I had all the kids sequestered in this TINY room, under the pretense of breakfast in bed, while he slept his big fat, snoring, head off on the couch?? So I served him breakfast on the couch, as some sort of a passive agressive assault which TOTALLY did not work in my favor at all, I realized when I was all splattered with bacon grease and had egg yolk in my hair and he was sitting there with a big, dumb grin on his face, watching MASH and shovelling bacon in his mouth. I think I am going to have to stop with the passive agressive attacks, as they never seem to work out in my favor. Like the time I slept on the couch to teach him a lesson and ended up stuck to a leather couch with a dog sleeping on my legs and a cat on my face, while he was stretched out in bed, probably having the best sleep of his life. And when I do the laundry he's all like "Oh, you should have told me there was laundry- I could have done some." And I'm like "Ya, cuz only I have super secret laundry spy power to determine whether or not there's laundry-- I mean, it's practically invisible to the human eye- it's only overflowing the bathroom and bedroom.
I try to take this all with a grain of salt. We're married. Til death do we part. All that BS.
Anyways, the holidays were good. We spent our time out at the lake, which was a nice change of pace. There was one rather untoward incident that had me in the bathroom a bit more than I would have liked following two home made rum and egg nogs. God. I thought I was never gonna get off the toilet. But I decided, all in all, it was all good. Some people pay good money for a good cleansing purge like that.
So now we are settling into a routine. I was watching Dateline tonight about "Orgasmic Labour", something which I have little stock in. There were these women on there, talking about- well I won't go into it. You get the gist of it, I'm sure. But I just couldn't believe it. I just think back to my labor- I mean, you couldn't GET more un-orgasmic than gripping pain, blinding contractions, burning, ripping, tearing-- I mean, you would have to be a seriously sadisctic mother F to get off on that shit. Like, I don't know. And then they had a story on surrogacy, and I became really interested. I TOTALLY want to become a surrogate now. Jackie Care- this does NOT mean you. I was thinking of like a really sexy, cool pair of gays with loads of cash and a posh flat- maybe some of those guys from Queer Eye?? I've always wanted gay friends... they're just so trendy, and their flair for drama is so endearing. I MUST have a gay friend. I shall start attending... what... Bette Middler movies??? Broadway Musicals?? Where would be a good place to start?
Oh, ya, and I got a new printer--- Sorry, this entry doesn't flow that well- but you'll have to learn to deal, my life these days has left me a bit frazzled- trust me, if you could see me now- my look is slightly reminiscent of Gilda Radner. But anyways- Geoff, AKA the Devil, got me a printer for Christmas, and this time he didn't cheap out- it's really nice- Scanner, photocopier, photo printing thingy, police scanner, GPS device. Well, OK, not the last two. But it is nice. So I have been spending a lot of time down in my basement (which is basically totally torn apart right now, by the way- work is going slowly) printing off query letters and stuff like that. There are 5 agents left in Canada to try regarding my novel, Having Grace. I am planning on sending my stuff off to them sooner rather than later in a mass, last ditch effort to actually move forward with this writing thang I have going on. My short story is not coming along so well at this point- I just need to find out from which angle to approach it from. Anyways, there is nothing so wonderful as mailing out a fresh query letter. The hope is high then. It gets less and less day by day, until you eventually realize that they're not going to respond, or you recieve your newest rejection letter. Anyways, right now the excitement is high. I am hopeful that one of these agents will be THE one.
I have to believe that it will happen eventually... otherwise, what do I have to look forward to??
Laundry, four kids, black mold in the basement, unemployed... the list goes on.
Oddly, I am not unhappy though.
Just a little bit loco.