Friday, August 5, 2011

Bad blogger

I'm a bad blogger. Apparently, someone found my blog by looking for Betta Poop. That fish actually died like, six months ago. I'm thinking about getting a new one though. My husband said it was ok.

Yeah. I got married. 72 days ago.

And I love it. I love him.

He's good for my phobia too. The night before his big physical exam for the police job application, he felt really sick. Because that happens sometimes when he's really nervous. I was also sick at the time. (Infection, and then an allergic reaction to the antibiotic. Which presented as a high fever so I didn't realize for three days.)

Anyways, he felt sick and I brought him tums and sprite and a cool cloth. I also didn't make him sleep on the couch.

Then, maybe a week ago, I was super tired so I fell asleep early. I woke up when he came to bed and he told me that he didn't feel good and yes, it was his stomach. Actually, he had already thrown up while I was asleep.

Cue panic.

But I found him the tums- he hadn't known where they were- and I popped a xanax, and went back to sleep. I didn't panic too much, and again, I didn't make him sleep on the couch. I even kissed him, once he assured me that he felt better and was not contagious. (Plus, let's face it, I had already been exposed even if he was contagious.)

I said "In sickness and in health" and I meant it. I remember that I love him and I want to make him feel better before I feel afraid. Even once I start to panic a bit, he looks so pathetic and sad that I want to take care of him and not run away.

I hope it will work that way for children too. Because I really want a baby. And I want tons of foster kids. I day dream about how I will give them each a little B@by be blessed lion or bear with bible verses about how much God loves them. And about the photo albums I will send them home with. But we've only been married for 72 days. Plus there's nowhere to put a baby in our apartment. Which is why we're getting a fish.

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