Back From the Dead, Yo!

Okay, not really "dead". Mostly just marriage, teaching and childbearing, all of which will take a HUGE chunk of time out of navel-gazing. But I've missed it, so now I'm back.



Hello, navel. How you been?



Anyway enough with the weirdness and on to... other weirdness, I guess. So, to recap:

1: Gipester and I got married in August of 2008. I got knocked up in approx. March of 2009 and


2:gave birth to our first daughter, Diablo Uno (G came up with that... kickass nickname in my opinion) in December of that same year.

3:In November of 2010, we found out that I was pregnant again (another girl, it turns out) and am due in July.



Oh yeah, we also moved out of the condo at some point in there. And we're trying to move again. Because we're going to have TWOOOOOOO KIIIIIIIIIIDS and need some space.

But I'm taking it all in stride.



Actually, that's bullshit. I'm a wreck. I can tell that comes as a shock. You may take a minute to absorb..... Done? Good.

Anyway, the whole point of this post was originally to bemoan the current state of my realtionship with the Gipester. Our sex life has taken a pretty serious hit in the last year or so, and it feels like we are so far out of practice that we may never get back in.
So to speak.
Sorry.


Anyway, I'm left feeling fat and ugly and undesireable (I am not a "glowy" pregnant lady) and more than a little bit embarassed. Then I get angry and hop out of bed at 2:30 in the morning full of righteous indignation ready to cry out the injustice of the patriarchy and biology to the world.


As I did this morning.


Then I opened up Blogger in my browser and realized that G didn't log off his Google account, so instead of my blog, there was his. The one he kept when he was getting divorced.
So I read it.

Not for the first time ever, but for the first time as his wife and as the mother of his children. I read about this sadness and this agony that I was unable to share with him or help him through.


And I remembered some important things about this man, chickens.


The Gipester has the soul of a poet.
He sees the world with the eyes of an artist.
He never gives up on anyone he loves. Ever.


And I love him more than I've ever loved anyone for all of these reasons and for a whole bunch of other ones that only he needs to know.


So, the white-hot flame of righteous indignation has passed, leaving behind only glowing homefires and the words of someone wiser than I:

"And this, too, shall pass."



Peace.

It's good to be back.