Monday, December 19, 2011


Today sucked. Man, for someone who is supposed to be avoiding stress, I'm sure doing a crappy job. I didn't get enough sleep last night, had to get up early for a doctor's appointment where we discussed the positive results of my Nuchal Translucency and the tests that could be done about it, as well as the possibility of termination. Oh, and I'm peeing blood. No one knows why. (is that too TMI?) The event we had planned to attend all month to do our Santa photos was non-existent when we showed up, because my husband got his info from a two year old water bill. Let's not talk about WHY he had a two year old water bill laying around. We stopped at the grocery store on the way home because I needed something for a jam order I needed to fill, and despite repeating THREE TIMES what I needed, he still got the wrong thing. I was stuck in the car trying to get my internet on the phone to load while I checked on another Santa thing because Bubba was upset (understandably; we totally worked it up) that he didn't see Santa and I was NOT going to the mall. We had a huge fight on the way home in the car, then I had them drop me off so I could make jam even though I was bummed about missing him see Santa. I had to swap out the wrong can of pineapple for one I knew I had under a Pyrex bowl on top of my china hutch, and in the process, I FELL OFF THE CHAIR ON WHICH I STOOD, taking out SIX pieces of milk glass in the process. I lost four Bubble berry bowls (so freaking hard to find), a candy dish, and one of my large footed bowls got a huge chip in the scalloped rim.

The irony here is that I've been telling my husband I can't be standing on chairs because I might fall off and since I'm pregnant, that would be a very bad thing.

I sat there where I fell with all my broken glass, and that just did it. I cried, and I cried for about twenty minutes, then I got up and went into my office, and cried some more. Let's just say the jam never got made. My husband got home, and I figured, well, at least Bubba got to see Santa.

These are the photos I got.

Santa photos were from 3-8 pm, according to the website. My husband got there a little before five, and was turned away by security because the line was too long. Hey, what's another disappointment today, right?

We had another HUGE fight and now I'm just done. Today was so horrible that I want to say that I just can't see how tomorrow can be worse, but I don't want to tempt fate either. If you're the praying sort, I'm putting myself out there - I could really use some right about now. I left out some details, of course, but there was other stuff that happened too. I just can't see how that much crap can happen all in one day!

And I still have to make the jam.


Blogger Rodi said...

Oh Sara that is a totally sucky day and I am so sorry. That milk glass is something you are totally proud of and is a big loss so I totally get where your head and heart are at there. That would have been a big enough problem without the family heartache on top so I am sending lots of prayers for a string of better days.

4:40 AM  
Blogger Becky (My Fabric Obsession) said...

Oh goodness that is rough. Hang in there, tomorrow will get better. And hopefully you got a good nights rest last night, that always makes things a little better.

5:33 AM  
Blogger Esther said...

Oh, boy. It's like an avalanche of awful! I really hope today will be great to make up for yesterday.
I think I missed the post about the positive on the nuchal translucency (if you mentioned it before at all.)

Did you go get checked out after the fall?

7:51 AM  
Blogger Jennifer said...

I'm sorry. :( Praying today goes better for you!

10:44 AM  
Blogger Muffy said...


UGH, hate to hear this. Thinking of you -- and PRAYING! HARD!

God bless darling! I think you are so special. XOXO

11:55 AM  

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home

Photobucket Photobucket

©2008 Sara Madrigal Fehling. All rights reserved.

Please do not take my photos without permission.

Contact me!

Related Posts with Thumbnails