More bliss

It's crazy. Sometimes I lay in bed at night, or when I'm driving somewhere, I daydream about more things to write about in the blog. What a great outlet. I always used to say I wanted to be a writer. That was one of the many things I wanted to be when I was younger, besides a waitress, a vet, a teacher, an artist, an actress, and who knows what else. I used to dictate stories to my mom and Grandma Gina when I was 4 and 5, and then draw the illustrations. We still have one of my stories, called the "Heart Family", about a family of hearts. (I can remember their heart dog, imagine that). In college and afterwards, I changed my interest to scriptwriting, because I was convinced that the stories of my screwed-up friends, and my screwy dating stores (some unbelievable, but true) would make good movie material. But laziness has taken over and now blogging is my game; I'm CJ's "little blogger". (*I like to say, "I"m a blogger, I blog", with reference to this. *).

Last night, I tried falling asleep next to the symphony of the inconsistent freight train, and the lip smacking crescendo. Finally, after unsuccessfully pushing a wild elbow aside, I took my pillow to the upstairs guest room to camp out, begging Treble to come back and cuddle with me. He was already freaked out from the thunderstorm we had just had, so taking him out of his "doggie bed" routine was not going to work. Sager followed me, though, surprisingly, because when she starts her bedtime routine, she usually doesn't budge from her doggie bed til around 4 or 5 AM, when she then yawns, does her cat stretch, and the comes to my side of the bed, scratching until I bend over to pick her long, lean body into our bed. Then she disappears for a few more hours in between blankets towards the bottom of the bed. (*note to self, get those doggie stairs, since our Princess and the Pea gigantic mattress will not allow me with a PG belly to lean over to pick her up without toppling OUT of the bed. Not a pretty sight, I can imagine*).

I settled into my guest bed, really my old full size I owned before moving in with CJ, and more thoughts plagued me. Thoughts of all the BLISS I find in my life, to help cope with the sad negative of this infertility journey that has otherwise consumed my every breath for almost 3 years. Well, I guess it can be 3 years now, since we talked of our TTC efforts the summer before, hoping I'd get PG and be PG at our November wedding.

I'll name my bliss. See if you can relate.

• Last night, I had a "super size" Reese's Peanut Butter cup. I cheated on my "diet" but my migraine-type headache demanded that after almost puking and holding an ice bag to my head for an hour, I deserved a treat. I was in HEAVEN. The taste of that gigantic peanut butter/chocolate cup was freaking AWESOME. I think CJ though I was nuts, the way I kept raving about it. (* well, we all know I am overly dramatic, and he is used to my crazy ramblings at this point*)
• I've also mentioned some other bliss(es) of mine. The movie theater. Having grown up w/a neighbor that managed the local Cinema, who was also my parents' drinking buddy, I practically lived on the weekends at the Duluth Cinema (only 2 screens then). (What easier way to get rid of the kids for a few hours, then to drop them off at the theater and let your employees take care of them?) I was seeing rated R movies before my friends could barely see PG-13. I love movies. LOVE THEM. Walking into a theater, smelling the popcorn, the musty smell of mildew seats; I'm home. Nine out of ten times when we walk into a theater, I tell CJ I'm home, as I can physically FEEL the release of tension. Weird, eh?
• Music. I mentioned in my previous post about how music is my outlet. But I DO love music. LOVE IT. I regret wholeheartedly that I gave up the piano and the violin. Dammit, I was going to be 1st chair in the orchestra, but I quit because it was "geeky" and my teacher was a raging bitch. *sigh* But I especially love the heavy bass of rock. I love it, always have. I think it has more primate meanings, the whole "heartbeat rhythm that can be calming" thud of the bass, feeling it through your body. Being able to swear with such MEANING. Limp Bizkit was great for that: "Shut the FUCK UP, shut the FUCK UP, shut the FUCK UP". I was able to vent, scream, and rage. I still do it. LOVE IT. I also have some great "Sound Healing" and "Zen" type music that puts me in a near trance; it relaxes my whole body. I sometimes listen to it on CJ's MP3 player at night to relax, and I plan on having it with me when I have the embryos transferred into me. I want to listen to relaxing, peaceful music and have them settle in for a long Winters nap *like 9 months long*.
• My cup of comfort in the AM. My co-worker Leanne turned me onto Starbuck's Chai Tea Latte, soy milk please. I love it. I now make these at home, w/the Tazo tea in a box, it's the same thing Starbucks uses. Um, heaven in a glass. Leanne calls it "cup of comfort' and it really is. I never have been and never will be a coffee fan. Yuck.
• Taking my bra off at night. This is great. I think one of the best parts of not working for most of the summer is the fact that I really don't HAVE to wear a bra all day if I don't want to. Who will I see? And if I do go out, I can wear a sports bra and say I'm working out. Easy, cheesy. Since I've began popping these various meds, and my hormones have messed with my weight, my body, and my self -image, the one good thing is the size of my boobies. I went from being "skittle bump" size (a nickname I was called in early high school; sweet, huh?), to a nice full B cup, almost C. I love it! Love the size of my "new" boobies. I am always shoving my chest out to admire my "girls" at school to Leanne and Mary, and they just LOL at me. At first, it almost freaked me out, walking down the hallway, with a FULL CHEST. How do people with BIG boobies handle them? Wow. Just wow. The one downside is lately the meds have made them so tender and sore. Owie. Yesterday at the chiro, I had a hard time getting adjusted because lying on my tummy hurt the girls. Ouch.
• The Dog Park. That is easy. I love, love, love my furkids. Love being outside with them, and love walking with them unleashed, so they can be free to run and frolic. I laugh myself silly watching them chase each other and interact with other doggies. Watching Tboy frolic (literally!) in the water at the pond is enough comedy for one full day's worth of laughter.
• Reading. Love books, always have. I can devour a good book in a day. I was bummed, because I only had 1 book left on hold at the library, which is a block away (more heaven!). Then, my new People, Oprah's "summer reading" email, and a visit to Barnes and Noble took care of my hold list. I put 14 books on hold on Wednesday. I picked one book up on Thursday and finished it last night. I see online that another one has arrived today for me to pick up. *pumping fist, yay!*. Books are my passion, my escape (similar to a movie's escape, with my own visuals. See a trend here? Escape? Kind of makes one wonder why I 'm always trying to escape? Discuss amongst yourselves).
• And the best of all, cuddling with CJ and the kids, blankets piled on us, me reading, or watching a movie with him, and maybe we are rubbing feet (which means he has his socks on). Usually Tboy can only handle so much together time, and gets hot fast. He usually bolts after a while, but Sage loves the cuddles. What is freaky funny is the weird positions she puts her body in. Her long cat-like body can mold itself in various positions; last night I was scared she was going to break her neck for real, her body facing one way, her neck the other. Wow. Just wow.

Time to walk the kids. Sager is sitting at my feet, growling/barking telling me to pay attention to her. I must go and prepare for the "loop" around the townhome complex. Treble is in need of some smilin' strutting, and Sager can't wait to (most likely ) poop a few times for me.