Fully Formed (or The One Where I Turn 26)

A few weeks ago my older sister and I had a loooong talk about life. I may or may not have been having a major breakdown (to the tune of 5 hours of "what am I supposed to do with my life") and at the very end of our talk, I realized that my biggest problem was simply that I had no idea what I wanted.

I look at two completely opposite people living their lives in opposite ways and I think "they have got it all together, THAT is what I want to live like." But then I realize that my life simply cannot look like both of theirs. The bottom line is that I don't know what kind of person and mom I want to be. After unloading all of this to her, she asked me how old I was.
"25."
She nodded thoughtfully (she's going to school to be a therapist, so she did that nod) and said "good. So....by the end of the year maybe your brain will be fully formed and you'll know more about what you want."

That's right friends, it isn't my fault I'm a complete disaster, it's because this brain of mine simply isn't finished forming.  So, today I am celebrating my brain.

Monday was such a fantastic day that I could hardly wait for today to come. I felt so great that I was certain it would last at least 24 hours because usually you don't go from feeling great to wishing you were dead in just a few hours.

Josh's mom was taking my child to give me a day off, I had lunch plans with a friend and had all kinds of ideas of things I wanted to do all day long. (Including (a) drive somewhere without a carseat, (b) get out craft supplies and paper and leave them out because when I'm done because they won't be eaten, and (c) park far away from where I'm going, because not lugging around the babe makes that reasonable.)

But just after midnight, my brain must have decided to revolt its fully formed self. Because that's when the worst sick-day of this pregnancy kicked in. I was up at least every 45 minutes and although my stomach was totally empty by 1am, I convulsed and heaved every time I woke up.

Since Josh took Tommy to his mom's house, I tried to sleep in, but my up-every-45-minutes schedule stuck with me clear until 10am. That's when I finally moved out to the couch which made absolutely no difference at all.

There could not have a been a better day for me to be childless because I truly don't know what I would've done with Tommy all day here. He would have been neglected thats for sure.

So although I have a lot to celebrate today, I'm watching Ellen and Disney movies in my bathrobe, feasting on a Saltine cracker and nearly 2 ounces of 7-up.

Odd, but it still seems like a very happy birthday what with all the facebook birthday wishes, the ridiculously generous gifts and the incredible friends and family I'm so lucky to have.

Sometimes people ask if I'm really as sick as I claim to be - and here's the honest to goodness truth. Sometimes I am. I have good days and bad days (yesterday I only puked one time! = good day!) but when I claim to have spent my entire day in the bathroom, I'm not lying. And when I claim to have been full of energy and productive, I'm not lying. So yes....and no.