I think I may have postpartum depression.
There, I said it. Admitting you have a problem is the first step towards beating it, right? Now I just have two more steps: kicking its butt, and celebrating its demise with a refreshing can of shasta.
It's not that I'm depressed, I've just been kind of moody lately. It all started a couple days ago when I went to the theater and, what the heck?! there was this HUUUUGE line. People were camping out, waiting to buy tickets. So okay, I wait too. Thirty-four hours later I get to the ticket counter and guess what, Judy Moody and the Not Bummer Summer isn't even playing at this theater!!! Every single screen is showing Harry Potter and the Itchy Sweater, or whatever it's called. (hate those movies) So, of course I'm more than ticked off and I just can't wait for all these people to leave so I can come back and TOILET PAPER THE WHOLE PLACE! HA!
Then, I take all the kids to the park and this lady comes up to me and looking at Lil'ollie says, "awe look at those cheeks, I just love them! SQUEAL!" (yes, she actually shouted the word squeal)
I just smile and say, "Then why don't you MARRY THEMMMM!!!"
Then I tried to throw a handful of grass at her, but it was windy and it all just came flying back in my face. But I don't even care because I like grass, so whatever.
I thought going to church would cool me down but things just got worse. I guess I don't really like people pointing out the chubbiness of my children, because another lady came up to Oliver and me, poked his tummy and said "Oh Mary, you must be feeding him pure cream."
After I fake smiled at her I told her, "No, not cream, just bottles full of bacon grease."
Then I grabbed the hymn book and... started singing The Battle Hymn of the Republic.
I've been extra lazy these days too. Yesterday I was upstairs lying on the floor, watching the kids fold my laundry, when I realized I was kind of hungry but I didn't want to go downstairs (that's where we keep the food). So I looked down at my chest and wondered if I could sustain myself for the rest of my life on breast milk alone. Why hadn't I thought of it before? When I'm hungry I drink the nutrient-rich milk thus making more and more milk, forever. Awesome! But I couldn't reach, so I ate a couple fingernails instead.
And when I finally did make it downstairs I discovered my laziness knows no bounds. You see, we're in the process of buying a house, we're actually signing the closing papers tomorrow, but I'm not too thrilled about all the work that needs to get done. So, as I was cutting into a crescent roll I thought to myself, if I just cut my hand a little bit I won't have to help with the move, a little pain is worth not having to do any of the work right?
Wrong, I decided.
I didn't do it.
Mostly because I was still really hungry and didn't want to get blood on my roll. Breast milk and fingernails are okay, but blood?
Sorry to offend any vampires or vampire lovers out there... wait I'm not sorry, you all disgust me! Shame on you!
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