“Look T, Look! This? This is where the baby is!” Kyan exclaimed to his friend while pulling up my shirt showing his friend my bare belly.
I wanted to die for two reasons first my belly is, to put it mildly, a deflated saggy balloon and second I was 2 days late. Ever since I can remember I have been regular, 28 days, never late never early. My entire life late has only ever resulted in my two glorious children, so, you can only imagine the terror running through my head as my child demanded that a baby was in my tummy.
I left daycare forgetting about the incident because, let’s be honest, if you ignore the signs then they can’t possibly be true. A few hours into my work day it hit me – I may in fact be with child and I won’t lie it scared the crap out of me because I really think kids are in tune with sort of thing and even if that is just folklore – I believe. So there I was, at work, alone, afraid to tell my husband mostly because he would think I was just overreacting and getting him freaked over nothing and my rational side agreed with his logic at the moment so I refrained from calling him.
Later that day I found myself down the family planning aisle – a place I loathe for several reasons but mostly because I can’t help but feel like a teenager who may have just changed my life forever and more recently I feel like every other woman I meet down that aisle, believe me it never fails every woman in the county is down the aisle at the particular moment I am, is passing some sort of judgment on the fact I am getting a test with a young child and toddler in tow. Maybe this is where I make a little confession, I have never taken a test hoping it was positive, sadly I have always feared positive and prayed with every fiber of my being that every test be negative, not because I don’t love children but because I fear change with every fiber of my being.
Finally, after racing home with the groceries and the all important tests, I proceeded to take the tests – yes both of them because one would definitely still leave me guessing – I was without child. Halleluiah!
But...we have added to our family and I thought that the internet needed a formal introduction.
Meet, Oreo. A female rat – yes we actually offered to share our home with one of them.
Meet, um, well, I am not sure what there names are exactly, I simply refer to them as THE BIRDS or more often, the most annoying addition one could ever add to a family. These creatures need more attention than a newborn in intensive care - they are, without a doubt, that demanding. Once you get past all the squaking you are either asleep or in the corner shaking from the headache. Seriously though, the only way I can stop them from squaking is to feed them nuts. Obese birds = quiet birds.
