Friday, March Thirteenth

The most exciting things in my life as of late:
--I stole some jam from walmart
--I'm heading back to Rexburg
--I'm not pregnant
--I may become a poet

If my career as a poet fails, I could always fall back on theivery.  Although, it was an accident.
A friend and I were using the same cart and checking out at the self-check out.  When we got to the car, I was putting the groceries in and found an unbagged jar of jam... having forgotten that I even put it in the cart, I realized I stole it.  I ran back inside and paid for it.  No one even noticed.  But it was kind of funny.

We are definitely going back to Rexburg in April to finish school.  Yes, my life is so boring that going to Rexburg is actually exciting... ;-)

I was having tons of pregnancy symptoms (like I always do... except when I'm actually pregnant), and then a girl I live with started having them, too, so I thought it was just a bug.  But it kept up and didn't go away... turns out I'm not pregnant.  But she is.  Maybe I have sympathy pregnancy symptoms.

Today is Friday, the 13th.  Which I realized after a bunch of crap happened and I was wondering why... and then something good happened at the end.  And I wrote a poem about it.

It's called, "Friday, March Thirteenth"

My face is marred by your tiny, sharp nails;
I never can cut them all.
My ears are ringing from your "little" wails-
I didn't mean to let you fall.

All that expensive makeup I used to wear,
Now is getting dusty.
I don't recall when I last brushed my hair,
And why does it feel crusty?

My favorite pair of shorts is in the sink;
They're covered in your poop.
How I have tried to give up on sleep,
But my eyes begin to droop.

Is this reality, or do I dream it?
I might be going daft.
But I'm happy, and I really mean it,
Because today... my baby laughed.

Yep, that is correct.  I made him laugh for real, today.  And I was so happy, I teared up.  A lot of things make me tear up, though... I had to explain to Anton that the crazy hormone that made me cry a lot while pregnant... still there.

Anyway, that's the sitch.

 Baby's first campfire.  He loved it... okay, he slept, and we loved it.