Not to worry, the title isn’t about me. Today, my boyfriend and I found out that his best friend and the guy’s wife are expecting their first child. Exciting, right? Well, to a couple of uninformed friends like us, the announcement came as a bit of a surprise (although we knew they had been “practicing” like most of our approaching-30/30+ friends who are feverishly listening to their biological clocks). It was also ill-timed because they did it during supposed birthday celebrations for my guy, so amidst bowling and brews, the the mom-to-be complained about how she was incapacitated to even pick up a bowling ball…talk about throwing shade on a perfectly good afternoon.
Having a kid is not like adopting a puppy. It’s a minimal 18 years of paying for another human being (or multiples if you are so bestowed upon), in exchange for what is hopefully a lot of gratitude and affection. Needless to say for some parents, this backfires or goes awry in the event of accidents, health issues, or just having a kid that gives zero shits about thanking two people for not wiping away his or her chances of being alive in a tissue after sex.
I’m not saying kids are a waste of time; in fact, I’m sure they’re great, otherwise so many people would refrain from the sleepless nights of purposefully deciding to house a literal terrorist that gets whatever it demands for most of their mid-adult years. Goodbye fun vacations and frivolous spending, hello diapers, rash cream, and constantly buying new clothes. (I remember thinking it was the coolest thing to always have to buy shoes because I grew out of mine so quickly…now I know my parents probably hated that every night I wished my feet would grow a little bit more).
Baby projectile vomit aside, tonight instigated an all-too-serious fight between my boyfriend and I about everything under the sun. Appreciation, affection, and recognition were all topics that swirled around in our heated discussion, and even though it ended in kisses and “I’m sorry’s,” it got me thinking about how to really take charge of my life from here on out.
I can’t blame him when I’m sick, or don’t like the way his friends act, blah blah blah. I can only control how I allot my time and how I react to situations. I really need to start holding myself more accountable and biting my tongue when I would rather lash out at him instead…as I know all too well how scathing self-reflection really can be.
So that’s what I’m doing right here, right now.
Yeah, I have an ethics exam for law school coming up…and yeah it fucking sucks this is the second time I’m taking it because I missed the pass cut off by one point. ONE POINT.
Yeah, I am stressed about taking my next MBA class, and about going back to law school (if the dean ever responds to my three unanswered emails), and about always getting sick.
Do you know how inconvenient it is to get diarrhea when you thought it was just going to be a quick pee before leaving to meet friends? Absofuckinglutely a mood killer. I don’t want to hang out with anyone when my guts feel ripped out and my stomach aches. It’s probably better when I throw up because at least that has an endpoint. Diarrhea is like the bitch that won’t shut up…and she keeps going and going and going without an end in sight. Actually, I wouldn’t know if the end was coming, because I can’t see that far behind me.
Jokes aside, accountability, responsibility, and a third word I can’t come up with to rhyme to make it a trio are what I’ve decided will help keep me more on track to fume less and focus more.
Even though I have no idea if any other pairs of eyes other than my own peruse this blog, I have to say, it’s definitely nice to have an outlet to tweeze out my thoughts in a way I can’t really have in conversation with anyone around me. It’s not that I can’t, I just don’t. Either these revelations come at the wee hours of the evening, or aren’t really worth their weight to discuss instead of imminent dinner plans…but I’m glad I’m keeping a record of this. For me. For anyone else out there.
Suffering silently is one of the most isolating things one can do, and even having a simple way of marking tiny bits of progress is so worth it looking back. I can only hope that future me pukes way less and smiles much more. For a day that literally started so shitty, to one that I think there was an upside to all the upset, I’d say this was a good one for the books, or the blog in this case.
Spoonie Adventures in Books, Beauty, & Bullshit
I'm a 25 year old law and business student living with a chronic health condition. Follow along on my shenanigans.