hearts & poop

(I originally had an additional entry here all about how much I hated today. Looking at it with my head cocked I realized the highlight of the paragraph was the realization that I had been using my fancy white-out upside down. So, I saved the Internet from that moany banality and we're just gonna jump right into some good ole fashioned sh-t talk.)

Last year, on Valentine’s Day, I was the flu. I didn’t have the flu, I WAS a living breathing sh-tting flu virus, leaving smudges of sick on every surface and doing my best to survive my first real sick with a baby. The only upside to the few days of uncontrollable toilet visits, aches and moaning was the story I can tell Stella one day of having to simultaneously breastfeed her and empty my howling guts. It was like New Mama Fear factor and I totally deserved a cash prize.

What I got instead was an insanely sweet husband who got me a sh-t-ton of beautiful MAC Wonder Woman makeup. It was lovingly displayed on the dining room table right beside the thoughtful NOTHING I bought him. Guess what the day after Valentine’s Day is? His birthday. Guess what I bought him for his birthday? LESS THAN NOTHING. I was busy being sick instead of out getting him lovely things. And the weeks before that I was too busy feeling sorry for myself, my lack of sleep, and wondering if Stella would ever sleep outside of her car seat. The lesson I learned that year was a) don’t marry myself ever because I’m a gross sack of human neglect and b) shop earlier.