Have a Good Life

This is what I don't understand.  Why do people tell you to have a good life after being exceedingly rude, when it's obvious that they mean the opposite?  If they've had no issue with saying such horrible things to you, why the pretense at being nice?  Or is it supposed to be ironic?  Huh.  If they're trying to be witty or something, surely they should have tried that route before they said all the mean things.  Or maybe they said the mean things first and they were witty.  And then it makes sense to say, "Have a good life" as a closing line.  But I'm still stuck on it.  I just don't get it.  Maybe they actually want you to have a good life, and are just using a sarcastic voice because they're afraid to let you know that they're wishing you well.  Or maybe it's a dare.  Like you can't have a good life without them.  Like... "Good luck on your life....without me."  Almost as if your life will never be as good without them in it.

But you know what? 

It will probably be better.  Because the person who says, "Have a good life" in a mean, sarcastic tone is a person who is better left outside your realm of contacts.  They probably didn't have your best interests at heart anyway.  And really? If they can't even be honest with you in their parting line (which the invariably meant to say - "Have a shitty life so I can feel vindicated and get some sort of vengeance even though I'm no longer in contact with you and will probably not even know that you're having a shitty life but I hope you do anyway.") then it makes you wonder what else they weren't honest about.

Like... when they said "Congratulations on your new promotion" did they really mean, "I'm so jealous that you got promoted because I'm so much better and way more talented than you and your shoes are ugly"?  Or ... "You look nice today" - is that really a euphemism for, "Every other day you look like crap, so I might as well throw you a bone for even trying to put something nice together".

The bottom line is this: someone told me to "have a good life" today.. and not in a nice way.  And you know what?  I'm totally going to prove to her that I will have a good life.  Simply by the fact that I'm not surrounded by people who would say that to me in the first place.

Also? 

That person can suck it.

Ooooooohhhhhhh... So that's why.....

So... I've been quite tired lately.  Like really tired.  I thought maybe my B12 was low, so I took loads of it.  Didn't help.  I went to be a little earlier every night.  Didn't help.  Thought that my student was just so emotionally exhausting that I couldn't do much else.  No cure for that, unfortunately.

Then I remembered that it was weird that I hadn't gotten my period yet.  It isn't unusual for me to be late.  But I had the cramps and the tender breasts (too much information?) and nothing had come of it.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

Because I freak myself out all the time when my period is late, I keep a pregnancy test in the linen closet just in case.

And 9 days ago I used it.

And those two little lines just popped right up.

Needless to say I was shocked.

And Stu wasn't too excited when I shoved the pee-stick in his face while he was half-asleep and said, "We're fucking pregnant."

After talking about our options we went to the drug store and got another pregnancy test.  Just to make sure.  And I bought the fancy one.  The ClearBlue Digital.  Spells out if you're pregnant or not.  And tells you how far along you are.

That one didn't hesitate either. 

Pregnant.  3+.  Apparently 3+ means that you're at least 5 weeks pregnant.

So... I don't feel so bad for needing naps now.

And I don't have to change the cat litter for like a year, which is the real bonus.  I think I might be more excited about that than anything else. 

Just kidding.  I'm excited.  And scared.  And nervous.  But definitely excited, because I have something the size of a piece of rice growing in my uterus.

Sharing is Caring

On Saturday Stu and I were supposed to go out with my best friend and her husband - two people that we both love.  Which is unsurprising, because my friends are awesome.  His, however... well, he may like his friends, usually I do not. 

Anyway.  That day, Stu woke up and told me that he wasn't feeling well.  I encouraged him to lie down and rest, hoping that he would feel up to going out by the time we had to leave.  But no.  Instead of resting, he decided to go and can tomatoes with my mother-in-law.  Firstly, he had plans with me.  Secondly, I didn't want his germs in my tomatoes.  Like the typical male he is, he ignored me and went up to his mother's.  Then he decided that he was too ill to go out.  (Which cause a domino effect of my best friend's husband then cancelling.)

Needless to say, I was not impressed.

Not only was he ditching me, but he potentially infected all the tomatoes with his germs.  Ick.

And then he gave them to me.  The germs that is.

When I told him I was sick on Monday with his germy cold, he told me that as my husband he was legally responsible to give half of what he owned to me. 

I glared at him.  He laughed.

Then I told him that I didn't forget things...ever.

He brought home dinner.  And made me tea.

And if I get sick because of infected tomatoes, I'm puking on his side of the bed.