On a HAPPIER note! TEN WEEKS!!!

Yes, that's right. I am now ten weeks along. I'm not sure how I feel though. I still have a hard time fathoming what is going on inside my body. It still just feels like I have a really long lasting flu. Next week Friday is my next doctor appointment. I am going to make sure they show me my baby. I NEED to see my baby. I need to see that it is OK, and that I don't just have a nasty flu bug, I'm creating life. I have a tiny little person in my belly. It's up to me to make sure this little one comes out OK. Me and God that is. I can't do it without him.

So happy happy. TEN WEEKS and counting.

Sister Wives

OK. I know most people outright do not agree with a man having more than one wife. I don't really have a problem with it except for the fact that I think a woman should be able to have more than one husband if she wants as well. So there is no double standard. He gets multiple sex partners and housekeepers, she should get the same if she wants.

Would I ever be a sister wife? HELL NO. Chris is mine and mine only, and I know he feels the same way about me. We waited a long time for each other and we are not going to botch it by adding "others". I am a very jealous creature and he is too, and the fact that we love each other and want each other ONLY and selfishly is good for us. It works for us.

If other people are OK with having multiples in their family and everyone involved is OK with it, than that is their right as far as I'm concerned. I will NEVER share, but it's not up to me to judge those who want to.

I watched the show "Sister Wives" the other day. I like the women, they are nice, they know what they want, they are happy. I don't really like the guy that much. Maybe it's his horrid hair cut? I don't know....or maybe it's being raised to believe bigamy is wrong and that is still carrying over a bit. Who knows, but as long as all of them are happy...who really cares?

Week EIGHT and counting.

So far this pregnancy thing has been way overrated. I have just started my 7th week, and I'm so tired of it all already. I don't even feel like there is really anything special going on...I just feel sick all the time.

Every time Chris kisses me or whatever, I have to remember that I am not sick with something contagious, I'm creating life. He can't catch what I have.

I hardly eat, which I know is not good for the baby, but I never feel very good and it's hard to choke anything down. Then like the other day...I manage to eat pretty good and something (cat vomit) makes me sick and I puke.

I normally am one of those people that can go to sleep at night and sleep straight through to the next afternoon. Not anymore. I wake up in the night now and just lay there trying to fall back asleep to the loud snoring of Chris and Sonny. It's so frustrating. I have heartburn, and my tummy hurts.

Every little thing worries me, as I lost two babies before at or around the eight week mark. I'm so scared this baby isn't going to make it. Everything is different this time though, so I hope that is a good sign. The first two times, I didn't have any of these problems. I even have acne. Me, the only Kinmonth girl to have near perfect skin, now has pimples. I also have to shave way more often, my "body" hair is growing at an alarming rate.

Chris has the food cravings that I should have. He is eating more now that he probably has ever eaten, and starting to get a little sympathy belly because of it. I wish some of the nutrients from what he is eating would somehow get into the baby.

It also looks like he won't be here when the baby is born. Or even for the entire last trimester. The baby will be at least 7 months old by the time he meets him or her. That sucks really bad. I don't know what I'm gonna do without him. There is still a chance he will be able to get out of it, however minor. He was sposto get out in August, (he thought October) but now the bastards are extending him through the deployment.

Tomorrow is my first actual ObGyn visit and another ultrasound. I really hope we can see a heart flutter at least. This baby has to make it.

Oh, and for those of you that don't know. Gus no longer lives here. The little shit is probably the naughtiest dog I have ever had. The last straw was when Chris CAUGHT him pissing on the wall and when he went to punish him Gus tried to bite him. I'm not having my baby crawl around in dog piss and risk getting bitten. He lives with his aunt now and is a perfect little angel. Little shit. I am so tired of the stink of piss in my house. I told Chris we have to get a shampooer this weekend. He soaked one whole half of the house.

Well, that's it for now. I'm so tired, it's way to early to be up, but I couldn't sleep and a voice in my head kept telling me to get up and eat something. So I had some crackers.

Last Phone Call

I've been thinking...what would be different if my dad had called me when he was dying instead of my sisters. Would he still be alive?

For those of you that don't know my dad died in 2002 the day before my birthday, we hadn't really been getting along because every time we hung out he would say stuff about my mom that depressed me. The last time I saw him was a week before he died and he brought me a present and lunch to work. It didn't go the greatest for some reason...

Leah had become really good friends with dad, spending a ton of time with him, missing a lot of school to help him with grandpa's estate in Missouri, so on this last fateful trip, she didn't go. She needed to be in school. Then the last phone call he made was to her, but she was busy working on something, and she needed a break. Dad could get kinda hard to talk to when you did it as much as she was. So she didn't answer.

He also called Hannah...Hannah has never been easy to get ahold of. She leaves her phone places all the time...people find it in stores and it has to be mailed to her. So of course, she didn't answer either.

He didn't call me.

I am the one who has my phone with me 24/7, I almost always answer my phone. What would have happened if he had called me? I know I would have answered, but would I have believed he was as sick as he was and sent help? Or would I have thought he was being typical dad, (always sick with something or other), and just talked to him for a few minutes, and let him go. Would I have the guilt of letting him die, or would he have lived?

I think it was his time to go.

He didn't go to the hospital because he didn't have health insurance. I think if he was meant to live, God may have had him call me, the one child of his that would always answer the phone. (Nothing against my sisters, I just have this irrational (for the most part) need to answer when someone calls.)

If God had led him to call me, instead of them, I would have answered, but would I have believed him and sent help? Who knows. If not, then maybe it still would have been his time to go, but at least then he could have talked to one of his baby girls before he died...rather than voicemails.

The one thing I do have...he called me to ask me a question a few days before he died. He was about to hang up, and I blurted out "I love you!" He replied, "I love you too Kido." That was the last time I heard from him. At least I got to say that.

Cist

I am at the tail end of my third week of being pregnant. I have a cist on my left ovary the size of a lemon. When I got the positive result on the test I knew that I was exactly two weeks pregnant. Pretty much the day it happened, things started to change. I started becoming more moody and bitchy, and started getting sharp pains in my tummy.

Turns out the cist has been there for a while, but now that the baby is in there making me produce extra estrogen, it's growing faster, and causing pain. They have to monitor it because if it turns on itself it will block the blood flow to the ovary and they will have to operate, which could hurt the baby. It could also explode, which would hurt like hell, but shouldn't hurt the baby.

Right now I can feel it squatting in me, I can actually feel it. It doesn't feel right at all. It's an interloper in my body. I've had cists before, but I couldn't feel them...until they ruptured. This one is huge, and I want it gone.

The Peace Sign

For years I've known people who would refuse to wear the peace sign because they said it was an upside down or satanic cross in a circle with broken arms. I've always felt they were complete idiot's, no matter how much I loved the person...then I just came across this article about it...which proves to me that they really are idiots.

Where did the peace sign come from?

By Melissa Breyer
More from Care2 Green Living blog

It is instantly recognizable as a sign of peace, but what is the symbolism behind the peace sign?

The olive branch came from ancient Greece, the dove from the Bible … but where did that circle with the chicken-footprint come from?

Rewind back to 1958 when London textile designer, Gerald Holtom, wanted to create a symbol for marchers to carry on banners and signs at a "Ban the Bomb" march planned by the Direct Action Committee Against Nuclear War (DAC). The event was Britain’s first major demonstration against nuclear weapons -- a 52-mile march from London to the town of Aldermaston, home to an A-bomb research center.

Members of the DAC came to the march emblazoned with Holtom’s circle-with-lines symbol; but to bystanders, its meaning was a mystery.

Nowadays we all know what the symbol stands for, but what is the meaning behind the design? Holtom created the symbol by combining flag semaphore signals, an alphabet signalling system where flags are waved in a particular pattern to symbolize different letters. The system was used in the maritime world in the 1800s to convey information at a distance.

Holtom used the signals for the letters "N" for nuclear and "D" for disarmament and put them in a circle. The symbol is essentially a logo for the concept of nuclear disarmament! Such graphic elegance.

Later the symbol was adopted by the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND). In 1960, the peace sign was imported to the United States via a peace sign button brought from the U.K. to the U.S. by Philip Altbach, a freshman at the University of Chicago.

The symbol had shown up here and there in the U.S. prior to that, but when Altbach convinced the Student Peace Union to adopt the sign as its symbol, the popularity of the peace sign grew immensely. By the late 1960s, the peace sign had become an international symbol adopted by anti-war protesters, and it doesn't seem to be losing steam any time soon.

See, for those of you who think the peace sign is a satanic cross with broken arms...you are really f'd up in your heads. :)

Cuteness. :)