Ok, I've hit another lull.
Seriously child welfare would have a field day with me.
Again, I didn't mean to neglect.
My rash finally subsided but I've got this thick skin left from the
cortisone. The doctor told me it would heal in time. Personally, I feel like I
look like a golden girl (rooster neck) but my hubby says I look fine. (Ok, three
days ago, he screamed out, "What the hell happened?!" I was putting on the cream
the doc told me to put on this thick cream at night and he caught me mid
slather. The greasy cold cream like concoction accentuates the redness.)
My ears are back to snuff but no jewelry will be hitting me until this neck
thing goes away.
My vanity of course is killing me since I can't put my hair up in public. So
I feel like I'm marinating myself. Last Friday, I thought I'd be found passed
out and slumped over a seat on the subway. Of course, this being NYC, they'd
assume I was just a homeless person on the platform and I wouldn't be found
until I was stripped naked and smelling like the back of a bakery.
Enough with the rash. I also finished two of my annual physicals. I've got
two more to go. Three if you count the dogs'. I keep reminding my hubby but you
know how men are. The limb can be gangrenous and hanging by a tendon but it
would only be a "flesh wound."
Plans for the party are going. I'm getting a bit nervous that I planned
everything to be done the week of the party but seriously, you can't hold meat
for long periods of time. As usual no one has rsvp'd. Total count today = 8 and
that includes me and my hubby.
On the family front, we hung out with two his second cousins. We took these
suburbianite teens out to the big bad city. We went to times square and I told
them to start pan handling. Hubby busted out laughing. I know he had fun though.
He was horsing around with them and showing off his marital arts.
My hubby has been treating me extra nice though. Sunday he took me out to
dinner. Monday he made dinner and took me to the park to watch the sunset.
Yesterday he came home with a brand new purse for me.
I know, what's his MO? I dare say, none. There are two possibilities but
there isn't concrete evidence to support either. 1) He found out about the
party. 2) He told me at the bar of the restaurant that waiting until he was
37-38 for our first kid seems silly. I nearly spit out my 7 on 7. He said that
having a kid 2 years from now isn't going to change our lifestyle any
differently than having a kid now. Needless to say, I had one too many to drink
that night.
Yes, I'd love a kid and after hanging out with two of the nicest and
politiest boys around, my womb did ache. But not that much.
Good grief. Why do we rush to grow up?
