13 Weeks Pregnant
13 is my favorite number. That's mostly because everyone else hates it or they are deathly afraid of it. I was born on the 13th of July - on a Friday at that! And no, my life hasn't been plagued with tragedy and misfortune. Yes, I've had my fair share of it, but not more than anyone else.
I've decided on this day, the beginning of my 13th week of pregnancy, that I should start blogging about my experiences.
I like to write, even though I'm not a great writer. I especially like to write really intelligent, academic papers that make me sound smart - and maybe even a little smug.
I enjoy dropping words like obsequious into casual conversation, not to make people squirm, but to perform micro experiments on unknowing subjects in order to see who's able to drop their ego and ask for clarification, and who will spend the next five minutes trying to work out what the hell obsequious means.
Do I sound like a douche yet? Because I'm going to be somebody's mom. Somebody's MOM! And these are all the douchey things I'll get to do to them!
I'm only kidding. I'll wait until they're at least 12 before I start making real gains in the "emotionally damaged" department.
I'm an American gal currently living in Dubai. I've been here for exactly one year. I don't have a job, but I've been working on creating an online business.
I had hoped by now I'd have a sustainable income. Who are these people who make a million dollars in ten months? Are they gaslighting all of us? I've not made much from my online pursuits and now that I have a baby on the way, I'm getting even more nervous about my lack of income.
The UAE ain't cheap. In fact, it's outrageously expensive. Everything costs 4Xs what it would cost anywhere else. And I haven't figured out why.
My husband is Scottish and the head of the music department at a British international school here. He earns a great salary, but my savings have all run out and now he's got to devote a ridiculous amount of money to cover my student loan payments every month. To say I feel bad would be a gross understatement. I feel shitty. Pathetic. Useless.
So what better to do than write it all out for everyone to see?
I started this blog today because part of my business requires a great deal of writing AND the ability to remain consistent. So, for the next 189 days, I'll come on here and ramble my thoughts in the hopes that this writing will bleed into my "real" writing.
Plus how many of us kept a journal of all the crazy things in life we were blindsided by? I think it'd be fun to look back on it and laugh at my naivete.
I'm intentionally keeping far away from mom blogs that talk about all the dangers and misfortunes of other moms because it's friggin terrifying.
I don't need to know that it's possible to split your vagina both vertically and horizontally in childbirth. Yeah, you didn't wanna read that either, did you?
If you're reading this right now, let me say "Welcome! Grab your cup of tea and get cozy. I hope we can go on this journey together - laughing, crying, and pretending like we're going to be the best, most amazing moms that ever walked the planet."
xo Jenea
- Everything is always okay in the end; and if it's not, then it's not the end.
I've decided on this day, the beginning of my 13th week of pregnancy, that I should start blogging about my experiences.
I like to write, even though I'm not a great writer. I especially like to write really intelligent, academic papers that make me sound smart - and maybe even a little smug.
I enjoy dropping words like obsequious into casual conversation, not to make people squirm, but to perform micro experiments on unknowing subjects in order to see who's able to drop their ego and ask for clarification, and who will spend the next five minutes trying to work out what the hell obsequious means.
Do I sound like a douche yet? Because I'm going to be somebody's mom. Somebody's MOM! And these are all the douchey things I'll get to do to them!
I'm only kidding. I'll wait until they're at least 12 before I start making real gains in the "emotionally damaged" department.
I'm an American gal currently living in Dubai. I've been here for exactly one year. I don't have a job, but I've been working on creating an online business.
I had hoped by now I'd have a sustainable income. Who are these people who make a million dollars in ten months? Are they gaslighting all of us? I've not made much from my online pursuits and now that I have a baby on the way, I'm getting even more nervous about my lack of income.
The UAE ain't cheap. In fact, it's outrageously expensive. Everything costs 4Xs what it would cost anywhere else. And I haven't figured out why.
My husband is Scottish and the head of the music department at a British international school here. He earns a great salary, but my savings have all run out and now he's got to devote a ridiculous amount of money to cover my student loan payments every month. To say I feel bad would be a gross understatement. I feel shitty. Pathetic. Useless.
So what better to do than write it all out for everyone to see?
I started this blog today because part of my business requires a great deal of writing AND the ability to remain consistent. So, for the next 189 days, I'll come on here and ramble my thoughts in the hopes that this writing will bleed into my "real" writing.
Plus how many of us kept a journal of all the crazy things in life we were blindsided by? I think it'd be fun to look back on it and laugh at my naivete.
I'm intentionally keeping far away from mom blogs that talk about all the dangers and misfortunes of other moms because it's friggin terrifying.
I don't need to know that it's possible to split your vagina both vertically and horizontally in childbirth. Yeah, you didn't wanna read that either, did you?
If you're reading this right now, let me say "Welcome! Grab your cup of tea and get cozy. I hope we can go on this journey together - laughing, crying, and pretending like we're going to be the best, most amazing moms that ever walked the planet."
xo Jenea
- Everything is always okay in the end; and if it's not, then it's not the end.
Comments
Post a Comment