I really ought to be cleaning right now. My house is a mess, and not in the way that my friends apologize for when I come over to their pristine houses. I mean that the guestroom my sister will be sleeping in tonight is currently uninhabitable. The floor and bed are indistinguishable beneath a sea of clothes.
Ok, I started to write about how messy my house was and then realized I needed to not write, but clean. My house is still messy, but the guest room is at least close to inhabitable and I have nice fluffy towels, no shower scum and cold beer in the fridge. My sister should be arriving someday, though not necessarily today. I have very little faith that she will be able to run from plane to plane in 1/2 an hour.
As I've been cleaning I keep coming across random things that might freak my sister out. (Which, considering she is a lesbian who has all sorts of er...interesting..."things" laying about her place that I am totally fine with but that are a little awkward to happen upon...)
Although she knows that A_ has CBAVD but I didn't tell her we were trying. I had started to talk about ttc a couple months ago and she very kindly offered to give me her eggs or 9 months of womb space. When I explained it was A_'s issue, and we shouldn't have a problem with my womb (knock on wood), she was very relieved, although it had been sweet of her to offer. I think it might cramp her style a bit though, what with her wild singles life.
She then said something about us not trying yet and while I can't remember exactly what she said, it was very anti-having kids right now. I didn't correct her, though I'm not sure why. I don't think I'm ready to share my heartbreak with her.
I've always looked up to my sister and wanted to by just like her when I was a kid. I stole her clothes and her books and drove her crazy. I don't want her pity or her advice on not having kids though. After all these years of trying to be like her, I know her all too well and she would say all the wrong things.
So I am putting up the books and the articles I've printed out, folding up the maternity clothes I couldn't resist buying on clearance at Target back when I thought this would be easy, and taking the doctors appointment cards off the fridge. Out of sight, hopefully out of my mind. For a while at least.