Symbolism

Yesterday was a good day. The sun peeked through Oregon clouds, Grandpa and Grandma came to visit a delightfully silly Liam, and WE BOUGHT A HOUSE . . .

Last night was a good night. We dined on delicious homemade pizza, Liam played boyishly on the back porch in buckets of water, and Billy and I drank lots of Diet Dr. Pepper. That makes us happy.

Later on last night...was not good. It started with painful Braxton Hicks and ended with me telling Billy he was a bad person for clogging the toilet, drinking too much D.P. , and wanting to shoot shotguns with Jeff this Saturday. I think there was something else too. I was furious at the man and I let him have it.

Last night I dreamed the diamonds in my wedding band cracked. Many of them fell out. It was a pitiful mess. Just a tad symbolic, don't ya think?

No our marriage isn't ending. But anger towards your husband will instigate telling dreams I suppose.

As Billy got ready to leave for work this morning I made him give me a big hug in bed. I sheepishly told him I was sorry for being cranky. My sweet Billy then blamed it on the Braxton Hicks. "Maybe the contractions induced some sort of hormonal response?" This was an evasion of responsibility I was all too cowardly to take. "Oh yeah, probably..."