Speaking ill of the dead

I know a murderer!! Holy shit. We used to eat at this place called The Hogie House and we got to be on pretty good terms with the owner, Keith. One day, Keith up and sold The Hogie House and opened a Dollar Store. I don't think it was in business a month. So the other day, I found out that several months ago, Keith murdered his next door neighbor! He got into some deep financial shit (imagine that) and found out that the old bat next door was loaded. So he broke into her house one day while she was gone to take some money and some valuables. She didn't stay gone long enough, and apparently, he was too stupid to run or hide. She walked right in on his ass and he strangled her. When she missed a lunch date with a good friend of hers that afternoon, her friend came looking for her. She knocked on the door for several minutes and called the police because the woman's car was there, so she knew she was there too. The police got into the house and they found her dead in the hallway. WHOOPS! Well, Keith walked around free for a while, but somehow, they linked him to the murder and arrested him. His sentencing was on Tuesday...life in prison without parole. Welp, I guess that didn't sit too well with 'ol Keith. He hanged himself with his bed sheets that night. A guard found him dangling from something (I've never been in a jail cell, so I don't know what he could dangle from) in the cell early the next morning. This guy had 3 daughters. Little ones. None over the age of 10, and I think the youngest is 3. What a fine, fucked up mess he left everybody in. If I were his wife, and he weren't already dead, I probably would have killed the stupid fucker myself. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but shit!

I'm dog-sitting. My grandparents went to see my Dad. They called when they got there and much to my surprise, they said that he was "OK." Why couldn't the fucker have been OK when the kid and I were there??? Ass-wipe.

I'm on a fence. Good thing I don't have balls, eh?? The hubby brought up having another kid. I was all for it until I started thinking, and if you know me, you know how dangerous that can be. Its felt so right to only have the three of us since she was born. A few months ago, it started feeling like something was missing. I knew what it was, but shoved it to the back of my mind. I had baby fever. Every woman gets it, I think, but it usually subsides. I'm still waiting. I blamed it on everything from shopping withdraws to being bored because I no longer work. I was only child. I was spoiled fucking rotten. I loved it (because admit it, you'd love it too if you were able). I got what I wanted when I wanted it. I went to private schools, had a red sports car in the driveway a year before I could even drive (don't know why they bought it so soon, but it sat there for quite a while); you get the point. I was told that I could go to any college that would accept me (and most of them would); that $$ wouldn't be an issue. I chose to go to a local college (and subsequently dropped out, lol) because I wanted to be near the source of the money.

I have expensive taste, and because of that, I've created a monster, but I'm blaming it bad genes. Good taste must be inherited, right???? My daughter, who just turned 2 in January, also has expensive taste. Somehow, without knowing what money is, or what something costs, she picks out the most expensive thing in the store. Unlike my grandparents, my husband and I aren't made of money. We're not hurting, but sometimes we get stretched a little thin. Mostly when I decide that its time for me to shop. I just bought the kid's summer wardrobe. Most people only buy 10-15 total outfits for their children to get through a season in. They add items here and there, but that's about it. Not me. Even though the majority of her summer clothing came from Wal-Mart (she's just going to ruin it, so why pay a fortune??) I've spent almost $500 on clothes for her. Other than Wal-Mart, we hit Target and Old Navy. She has a few Gymboree dresses and some things from Baby Gap, too. She even has Baby Gap big girl panties! Right now, her closet is STUFFED full of winter clothes. And I do mean stuffed. I have to shove stuff to the sides to fit in the laundry I've done. I'd be willing to bet that she has over 60 winter outfits alone not counting the odds and ends like jeans and random shirts to go with things like that. She has FOUR winter coats, and she's got over 20 pairs of shoes (I didn't buy all the coats. Just the really nice one, LOL). Now how in shit's sake will I do this for TWO kids? There's no way. The kid has so many toys that they've taken over the house. We're doing away with an entire bedroom (the only spare one we have, at that) just to put her damn toys in it. Sure, its my fault, and I'm not bitching, but I'm no dummy. If we have another, she will be slighted - she won't get whatever she wants - or whatever I want her to have. Its funny. When the house burned, I realized (or at least thought I did) that material possessions didn't matter. OK, so WHY DO I HAVE SO MANY AGAIN?? Perhaps I REALLY didn't learn my lesson. I'd like to say that I did, but I think I'd be lying.

But still, even with all of that, what would another child add to our lives (other than insurmountable debt)? I can't fathom how great it would be. I also can't fathom how hard it would be. There are things that I never got to do with our daughter. Breastfeeding (due to meds I had to take). Co-sleeping (until recently). Cloth diaper (it sounds good, but I dunno. It sounds equally as gross). Stay home with her from the day she was born. I was scared to death of her. I'd never been around a baby. She was sick so much, too. We didn't know why until she was diagnosed with an immune deficiency. Then I got scared all over again - and I was just settling into motherhood. I know that every baby is different, as is every pregnancy (and I'd REALLY prefer not to have the same kind of pregnancy I had before - it was shitty), but I know for a fact that I wouldn't be scared shitless of the next kid. And what if it were a boy?! That would be SO great! I guess that scares me - I really don't know what to do with a little boy as he gets older, but I do know that all a little baby needs is a source of food, some clothes, a roof over its head, and most importantly, lots of love and attention. Boy or girl, we'd be happy. And if it doesn't happen at all, we're happy with the way our little family is now. Just the three of us. I've chosen not to tell any of the family or friends that we're considering expanding the family. I don't need the pressure. I have endometriosis and there's a chance that I may not get pregnant again. It was nothing short of a miracle (and a shock) when I ended up pregnant the 1st time. I don't want another child bad enough to go through fertility treatments. Neither does the husband. I don't want people asking me, "Are you pregnant YET?" or prying into our business asking what's wrong. Its none of their damn business - that's what's wrong. MY uterus is MY business.

Gah, the weather here is nothing short of CRAZY. It was over 80 degrees here today. It was really nice, but now its cooling off and a storm/cool front is moving into the area and my head is POUNDING. This is no place to live if you've got sinus and allergy problems, but I do love it here. This place has soul. Don't ask me to explain that. Its a feeling. Nothing that I can explain.

The kid has to have surgery on March 23. The tubes are going back in her ears (which came as no surprise) and her adenoids have to come out, too. This pisses me off - but only because I grew her for 8 miserable months. Now some yay-hoo wants to go in there and rip out stuff that I worked hard to get there. Sure, it has to be done, but still. I'm worried about her being put completely under, but I trust the doctor 100%. Or at least I will until the morning of surgery. Then I'll second guess our decision even though I know its the only thing that's going to help her right now.

I'm cold and tired. I'm going to bed.