Our Family Beginnings

Last week was fine.  There was absolutely nothing wrong with it that went above and beyond the usual, but I was in a mood.  No reason, but just everything got under my skin that usually rolls right off.

It started with my now like-clockwork period being late.  I went around cursing under my breath that I’d be a walking cliche of “See, I knew once you adopted, you’d get pregnant.”  Then I GOT my period and had the shittiest cramps I have had in years, of course.

I was achy and sore and tired all week in every muscle.  Not period crampy, like hit by a mack truck sore, it was so weird, and made me feel a bit useless.

We went to pick berries and peas except there were no peas.

When leaving said area of purported peas, I noticed something on my car was dragging.  I cringed as we drove to the parking area where there was pavement as opposed to gravel.  Sure enough, a giant piece of plastic was hanging on by a bolt.  My mood finally began to turn around when I backed up and the piece popped off.  It was useless anyway, so no more awful dragging noise.

There were other things that were just piddly and little and like the yellow jacket that somehow made it into my house, annoyed me.  So I did what any rational, hormonal, even keeled woman would do.

I gave myself bangs.

And as I admired my handiwork in the mirror, I had an overwhelming sense of pride.  As a girl with curly hair, bangs are a tricky proposition.  V’s been grabbing my hair lately, so I have tended to just put it in a bun and go.  That’s not pretty on me though, so I wanted to do something about it and in a fit of frustration, gave myself long bangs to blow out each day.

Sometimes perfect moments arise organically, and sometimes they rise out of the ashes of suckitude.  Last week was the latter.  This week, me and my bang-decorated face are all smiles.

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