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I'm afraid I've been bitten. I dreamed I had a baby the other night and I've been in baby mode ever since. I don't know why because in the dream, I was freaking out about what a responsibility being a parent was and how difficult it will be, etc.
On the other hand, we've done the math and figured out that the only possible way that our health insurance will be profitable (other than an accident or serious medical issue, which we won't talk about because I don't really need to worry about it) is if I start popping out babies. Magnus had to go in to work at seven this morning to listen to the health insurance agent tell everyone that the price is going up and the benefits going down. Yay. He was less than thrilled, since him arriving at work at seven means that he has to get up at five, and they certainly didn't pay anyone to be there. "Maybe we should think about moving to Sweden now," he says pissily. "Yeah." I sigh. Course, we don't mean it, but we'll gripe about it for a week or two anyway. As it turns out, our lovely insurance company will only pay for 12 chiropractor visits per year, and will only pay for therapeutic massage if billed as a chiro visit, even though they claim they pay for it in general. I just counted out the visits, and I've been thirteen times already, plus at least four massages. It's not that the money is a huge problem, but it's money I'd rather not spend if I don't have to. So do the exercises, I know, I know. I get so annoyed with his office, too, because no one ever knows what's going on in regards to billing. Tell me how much I owe you. I will pay. That's how it works, and not any of this "Don't you know how much you owe us?" stuff.
Why am I ranting about insurance? I feel like my aunt. We always used to make fun of her for talking about insurance when she was in the same room with my cousin's father and her mother-in-law, both of whom worked as teacher's aides in different counties. She always gets aggravated at us for teasing her, which is, of course, why we do it. Anyway. Oooh. Magnus is coming in. With a mando with strings on it!!!! How exciting that it's at that point already! It's in desparate need of tuning, but it has a nice sound to it. Hmm. I guess most people would be surprised that I said "already" at that point. He's been working on this silly thing for months and months and months. I'm mostly uninterested in the process, but this final product thing is pretty cool. My husband is a luthier! (Alien luthier, as he prefers to be known.)
Anyway, babies. I thought I should clarify my meaning.. we're not *actually* ready to reproduce, I'm just a little hormonal right now and cute cuddly things make me weak in the knees. We're not planning on pursuing parenthood until we have an actual stable economy. This is a concept that bugs the heck out of my mother and my aunt, who are of the notion that you'll never have as much money as you want before you start having kids, so might as well have them as soon as possible. Well, no, I imagine we could save all our lives for these little rugrats and still not be "ready" but all we're really interested in is having jobs that do not have the overwhelming fear of termination or stench of rotten fruit hanging over them. I don't think that's too much to ask. I just thought I should mention it before someone starts knitting booties or something.
On the other hand, we've done the math and figured out that the only possible way that our health insurance will be profitable (other than an accident or serious medical issue, which we won't talk about because I don't really need to worry about it) is if I start popping out babies. Magnus had to go in to work at seven this morning to listen to the health insurance agent tell everyone that the price is going up and the benefits going down. Yay. He was less than thrilled, since him arriving at work at seven means that he has to get up at five, and they certainly didn't pay anyone to be there. "Maybe we should think about moving to Sweden now," he says pissily. "Yeah." I sigh. Course, we don't mean it, but we'll gripe about it for a week or two anyway. As it turns out, our lovely insurance company will only pay for 12 chiropractor visits per year, and will only pay for therapeutic massage if billed as a chiro visit, even though they claim they pay for it in general. I just counted out the visits, and I've been thirteen times already, plus at least four massages. It's not that the money is a huge problem, but it's money I'd rather not spend if I don't have to. So do the exercises, I know, I know. I get so annoyed with his office, too, because no one ever knows what's going on in regards to billing. Tell me how much I owe you. I will pay. That's how it works, and not any of this "Don't you know how much you owe us?" stuff.
Why am I ranting about insurance? I feel like my aunt. We always used to make fun of her for talking about insurance when she was in the same room with my cousin's father and her mother-in-law, both of whom worked as teacher's aides in different counties. She always gets aggravated at us for teasing her, which is, of course, why we do it. Anyway. Oooh. Magnus is coming in. With a mando with strings on it!!!! How exciting that it's at that point already! It's in desparate need of tuning, but it has a nice sound to it. Hmm. I guess most people would be surprised that I said "already" at that point. He's been working on this silly thing for months and months and months. I'm mostly uninterested in the process, but this final product thing is pretty cool. My husband is a luthier! (Alien luthier, as he prefers to be known.)
Anyway, babies. I thought I should clarify my meaning.. we're not *actually* ready to reproduce, I'm just a little hormonal right now and cute cuddly things make me weak in the knees. We're not planning on pursuing parenthood until we have an actual stable economy. This is a concept that bugs the heck out of my mother and my aunt, who are of the notion that you'll never have as much money as you want before you start having kids, so might as well have them as soon as possible. Well, no, I imagine we could save all our lives for these little rugrats and still not be "ready" but all we're really interested in is having jobs that do not have the overwhelming fear of termination or stench of rotten fruit hanging over them. I don't think that's too much to ask. I just thought I should mention it before someone starts knitting booties or something.
