Rant-a-roonie and a happy ending.

Rant-a-roonie.  You've been warned.

If I told it to you in reverse it would go like this:

 Nic walked in the door and all the kids ran to him and said, "MOM BIT HER TONGUE AND SHE'S CRYING!"

Before that I popped Tylenol for a booming head.

Before that, the container of play-do toys fell out of the cupboard and spilled all over the floor.

  Evan went limp and cried and slid out of his chair about 400 times during the 45 minutes it took to write four words for his homework.

The air conditioner broke.  That's right.  (I can not name any higher level of rudeness than to have the AC crap out on a pregnant woman.)

I did a Scooby-do like slip on some spilled dog food.

Jemma fell asleep at school pick up.  It was 100 degrees and I had to carry her to the ends of the earth (the very last line at the playground) to pick up Afton.

Evan kicked my toe with his fat shoes and ripped my big toenail off.

I discovered a week of bronchitis is not kind on the pregnant bladder.  Over and over again.

I spent a day in the emergency room trying to figure out why I can't eat without pain and nausea for days on end.

I moaned and bawled all night while telling Nic, "I'm not going to the hospital!  They never find what's wrong with you!"

I held the breathing treatment mask over Afton's face and a bucket under her chin for three nights in a row.

Oh yeah, I've been nauseated every single day since Mother's Day.

So when I bit my tongue, I cried.  Sue me.

BUT!  If I could have the opposite experience...

I would drive to Disneyland and check into the Grand Californian Hotel.  I would have breakfast at the Storyteller's cafe.  I would order Caramel stuffed french toast with scrambled eggs and ketchup, red potatoes and milk and o.j..

I would ride Pirates first, Haunted Mansion second, and then Pooh Bear.  I would stop for a caramel apple with peanuts at the Pooh Bear store.  I would make sure to watch the senior citizen swing dancers at the plaza at night.  I would also eat a pineapple float from the stand by the Tiki Room.  (Disneyland is always about the food for me...not just when I'm pregnant:)  I would have Nic push me in a wheelchair the entire time.  When is somebody going to invent an adult stroller?

After my fill of Disneyland, which I'm sure would take at least 6 or 7 days...I would go to Ikea.  To fuel up my body before my shopping, I would eat the Swedish Meatballs with lingon berry sauce.  (Okay...maybe my pregnancy is influencing my food fantasies a tad...)  I would buy window coverings  for my whole house and soft cotton covers for fluffy duvets.  I'd buy huge impractical tropical plants and over-sized art.  Nic would still push me in a wheelchair.

Then I'd drive home to my beach house that was conveniently purchased by surprise for me while I was at Disneyland and unpack my wares.

I'm done crying now.