This is a formal and sincere apology for my April Fool’s Day joke.

I’m not pregnant.

And I’m sorry.

MellowDee is right…I * am * a brat.

I promise….I won’t joke about it again. The next time I write the words, “I’m pregnant”, they will be true, okay?

And now I can just see your faces all over again, wondering if janetk is fucking with you again.

Nope…I’m not fucking with you.

The parts of my post about Jennifer Clark predicting four children were true. And the parts of my post about my thinking she was wrong once Rock had a vasectomy were true, too. And yes it’s true that every other prediction and insight she shared on that day in March were right on the money.

I really did believe that I was done after two children. And once Michael came hurtling into this world, I believed that he was definitely IT. No more babies for the K house. When they start coming * that * fast, it’s time to stop.

And then I fell in love with this American Boy and life as I knew it was turned upside down and I could no longer remember what it was I thought that I wanted and I couldn’t remember what the plan for this life was supposed to be (I’m hearing Ani’s voice in my head as I write that… “we were supposed to be cool about this, yeah. I remember cool was the plan…”) and I couldn’t think straight.

I am still not thinking straight.

That’s part of the fun.

The fact that I can even contemplate another child is testament to how I love this American Boy. I have hated my body and my uterus for over a year now, sometimes dreaming of carving my uterus out myself because it has failed me and my son so terribly. The idea of another baby made me want to throw up because I was * that * terrified of killing it….I had almost killed one, after all.

As far as I was concerned, Jennifer Clark was full of shit.

But now I know that she was right about it all. It just took longer than I thought it would for every one of her “predictions” to come to be.

I am not afraid of jinxing myself by joking of a fourth baby.

I want that baby. Not now, of course…but some day. Some day when 540 miles don’t separate us.

And I promise that when that day comes, you will all be the first to know. And furthermore, I promise that I will only tell the truth.

I am sorry.

But it was kinda funny, wasn’t it?!

In other updates, the bus arrived today! Hooray! On time! Hooray again!! Of course, only Emma has school today so I * still * am outnumbered by rug rats, but it’s nice to finally have things running relatively smoothly….even if it is on a Wednesday instead of a Monday. Ha.

The bus driver apologized and explained that because of the heavy rain, her bus was stuck in the mud of her driveway for half an hour. She couldn’t move and it took a whole shit load of people to push the damn thing out. I couldn’t stay angry…I never can. She’s really a sweet lady who normally frees me from the children for at least a little while.

My plan to take the girls out for dinner and shopping did not go as I had hoped. We still went out for dinner, but ALL of us went which meant that I spent much of the meal feeding Michael and bouncing him around. Rock has almost entirely given up any sense of responsibility or effort. I think he’s almost just stopped caring.

I am constantly reminding myself that he is hurting or maybe just coming to some of his own conclusions. And that’s fine. I just wish that he didn’t take it out on our kids, you know? Punish me all you like…but don’t take your love away from them because you’re punishing Mama. And don’t take away their only fun because punishing Mama.

He is leaving again this weekend. I work on Friday night after which I intend to get good and fucking hammered with a phone in my hand and an American voice in my ear (well, I hope for that, anyway…I haven’t actually informed the American Boy of my intentions… * blush * ). It should be a very late night. And then I am sleeping in on Saturday. So help me Dog, I am sleeping in.

And then Rock leaves for the day and the night and much of Sunday. Where he’s going, I have no idea. What he’s doing, I further have no idea. I only know that he can’t wait to get out of this house and away from us. Again, that’s fine. I just wish that he didn’t want to get away from our kids so badly.

The really shitty thing is that he will be taking our car. Our only car. So I can’t take the kids anywhere on Saturday or Sunday. We’ll be stuck in the house in the middle of the country without a vehicle.

So here’s my plan (since this time we won’t have the company of a boy who actually enjoys “One Potato, Two Potato”)…

I’m going out with the girls on Saturday before Rock leaves. He’ll just have to wait around and get over it. We are renting movies. And we’re buying chips and dip and popcorn and soda. And we’re buying mini sausages and cheese and crackers and veggies and veggie dip. We will probably stop in at the dollar store, too, for some craft supplies and glue and tape to boot.

I am pulling the futon mattress up from the basement Reiki room and I am laying it on the floor of the living room, just like we did when Don was visiting Janet Land. The girls and Michael all got sleeping bags from the Easter Bunny and we’re laying those out on the futon. We’ll eat the meat, cheese and crackers and the veggies and dip for dinner, because they love that kind of stuff. And then we’ll lay around and watch silly movies and have a slumber party in the living room.

Sunday will find us making a huge mess in the dining room. We will cover the kitchen table in crafts while Michael (hopefully) plays nicely in his high chair.

I * have * to make this fun for them.

Even if I’m the only one making the effort.