Well, I’m not screaming, though I’d like too.

we just got home from “playgroup”(read a bunch of women who sit around talking while their children run wild) I lothe playgroup. I’m trying to be better, but no matter how positive I try to be I really hate play group. I go because my son loves to play with the kids and he needs that social contact. He needs to be around other kids, and It’s my job to give him lots of chances.
But I can’t stand the “bunch of women sitting around talking” part. I usually stay with the kids. One on one, women are fine. I have female friends and I don’t hate women as a rule. Good thing too, since I am one. BUT . . . If you have never beeen part of a group of women, of any size then you might not know this, but when women get together, the one subject they constantly talk about is PRRREEEEGGGGNNNAAANNNNCCCYYYYY. UGH.

Constantly! Labor, delivery, conception, Blah blah blah blah blah. It’s like they honestly feel that it is the one thing in this world that is important. Not motherhood, mind you–just pregnancy. They just don’t get it. And I can’t make them. It isn’t worth trying. They don’t see that every moment after that child is born is just as important as the begining. A woman can be seventy years old with grown grand children, and she’ll still tell you every detail of her childbirth experience–because, of course that is the ONLY important thing she ever did FOR or WITH her child!
It’s like giving birth is the only thing that gives these women worth in thier minds, and that is a sad situation. If you have no self worth without children, givng birth isn’t going to change that.

Anyway, today it is one particular woman who is driving me nuts. She is–and has been for the last three months–planning her next pregnancy. She just goes on and on and on! “I don’t want to carry the baby during the winter. I want to give birth in November, but we have a conference at the begining.” and BLAH BLAH BLAH.

I get it! you can get pregnant at the drop of a hat. OK! So do it already and SHUT UP about it!

Do I sound a little jealous? Maybe I am, a little. I’m not jealous that she can concieve and I can’t. I’m jealous over the casualness of it. I’m jealous over the ease of it. It perplexes me. I’m not proud of my jealousy. But there it is. Sour grapes folks.

You know, just when I think I’m done with the jealousy and ugliness, I have a day like today and it all floods back making me feel about two inches tall. What is it to me if she pops out babies like toast? My babies come to me in their own time, and her rabbit-like reproductive habbits do not diminsh my joy in my son and his future siblings.

It’s ’cause I’m at the start right now, and the finish line is so far away. I’ll feel better later.

Enough ranting! on to important matters like photos and gardens!