Some Tips for Living With a Pregnant Woman

   So, I am with child. I'm pregnant, but I am still capable of doing most of the work I did before I got pregnant and I insist on doing what I can. I'm just perpetually exhausted, generally in various forms of discomfort and believe it or not, despite being a woman and therefore designed for making babies, it is very trying and hard on the body. Especially when it comes to the end. Childbirth is the closest to dying a woman can get (without extreme circumstances like tragic car wrecks, etc).
   So, perhaps people should consider this. A man whose woman is expecting should make a point of helping out, maybe picking up some things she doesn't have the energy or ability to do anymore. Attempt at being nice to her more often. Maybe rub her feet or massage her back - pregnancy  causes many things to happen to her body, and she will generally ache. Her feet and ankles generally swell. Her sudden weight gain causes them to hurt much more and more often.
   A pregnant woman doesn't require someone to do all of her work so she can just sit or lay around (except in circumstances which require bed rest). Staying active by walking and doing her usual daily tasks is good for her and the baby. The more physically stressful things, like arranging furniture in the baby's room or such like, she shouldn't be doing, especially by herself.
   Also, remember that her hormones are perpetually driving her crazy. She will be easy to make cry and easy to make angry. There's not much that can be done to stop this. One thing that helps lessen the various outbursts would be to do your best to keep yourself in check. When she does something that angers you, or isn't as nice or polite as you like, try to over look it (unless it's truly important. Pick your battles very carefully). The things you know irritate her, avoid doing, at least around her.
   Also, try to give her a little bit more attention than you used to (helping out around the house as previously mentioned is a great opportunity for this). Remember, more often than not her self esteem has dropped (seriously, gaining that much weight, not being able to fit any of your favorite clothes and noticing your odd walk and what not really kills your self confidence.) Try to make her feel better about herself (and sometimes, the usual compliment of "you're beautiful" seems unconvincing to her, no matter how you say it. Try new ways to make her feel good about herself).
   As I said, although making babies is truly rewarding and always amazing, it is very hard on a woman's body and mind. It's a lot of big changes happening very quickly (although sometimes it can seem like forever!). Show some understanding, some appreciation, and willingness to help. We can't do it by ourselves, no matter how much we say we can.

   This is just a bit of information for those out there expecting their first, or even second or third. Sometimes, people need reminded.

Bad Poem #4

Small Girl In A New Home

Stepping lightly through the door
Hand gently against the wall as she walks
Looking at everything as if it's new
Sneaking into closets
Hiding in the attic
Playing on the stairs
Standing on tip toes to look out the window
Smiling big at finding stuffed bears
Claiming a room as her own

My own cookie recipe

So, I decided to try to develop my own recipe. This is what I came up with. I may change it, I may never make it again, but I thought of it all by myself (unless I'm remembering another recipe and not realizing it. I don't think I am.)

2 cups of flour
1 cup of sugar
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla
1 cup of oil (olive oil, saffron oil or similar)
2 eggs
1/2 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Thoroughly blend oil, eggs, sugar, salt, vanilla, cloves and cinnamon. Sift together four and baking soda, then add slowly to mixture. Roll into tablespoon size balls, pat flat and place on cookie sheet. Bake for 12-16 min, until light gold colored (until done).

I tried using 1 tsp. cloves and 1 1/2 tsp cinnamon with a 1/2 cup of honey. That resulted in adding 2 more cups of flour. I threw some cinnamon chips and chocolate chips in, too, and those would probably be good in the above recipe, but when I added to it, it turned out kind of bland (due to all the extra flour) although my husband liked them. Any tips or pointers are. of course, welcome.

Pirate (Part 1)

   She hadn't been seen around here. This was a new port, recently established on one of the more distant islands of the Eastern Sea. People didn't know her. They may have heard stories about her, or her exploits, but there was no way they could connect this woman with them. But all the people still seemed to step aside for her, avoid her, have a strange mixture of fear and respect for her.
   She didn't know why. True, her brown pants were patched and re-sewn. Her tan tunic was rumpled, torn, repaired and stained. Her boots were weathered, much like her skin, and showed distinct signs of wear. But that wasn't unusual, she had just stepped off her ship. Most sailors, captains or not, looked as though they'd been at sea for months. Even the scar and patch over her left eye weren't unusual. The ocean had many dangers, from storms to pirates to the creatures of the deep, that made her far from the only sailor with scars. She flipped her long braid oner her shoulder and smiled to herself. Was it her captain's hat? No, she wasn't the only woman captain. was it her ship? No, the colors had been taken down well before entering the harbor, and the figurehead was not so outstanding as to cause undo attention.
   She strode into the tavern and found a seat in the corner to the immediate right of the door. She leaned back in the chair and propped her feet on the table. pulling out a knife to toy with, waiting for the man who arranged this meeting. She didn't have to wait long. In a few minutes, a tall man with light hair and dark clothes stepped through the door. He jumped as the knife the woman had been holding flew past his face at eye level and imbedded in the door frame.
   "Honestly, Trinity, is that anyway to act?" He sighed as he turned towards her. She smiled sweetly at him.
   "Honestly, Luke, isn't that a little ungrateful? You know I didn't miss on purpose." Her voice sounded sweet, then turned hard. "Take a seat." She kicked a chair out to him, hitting his knees and making him stumble slightly.
   "I don't know why you're so angry. I know you were successful. Your first mate delivered the sea serpent eggs as I was leaving." He pulled the chair up to the table and sat.
   "It's not that I had any problem raiding the nest. It's that as soon as I came within three days sail of this island, I somehow had a royal ship hunting me. Know one outside my crew and you knew we were coming here. How much did they give you?" She had pulled another knife from her boot.
   "Now, Trinity, calm down --" Luke held his hands up, palms out, trying to placate her.
   "HOW MUCH?" Trinity roared, rising to her feet. "I lost a quarter of my crew, and my second mate is still under the care of our ships surgeon. How much?"
   "You can't honestly believe --"
   Trinity came close to him, lowering her blade to his pants. "The captain and first mate both gave your name before they died. How much did the king pay you?"
   Luke began to sweat and shake. "One hundred thousand. They've been chasing you for years --"
   "If I don't have that in my possession by the time the sun sets, your most precious treasures will be mine instead." She prodded with her knife to punctuate this. "If you try to run, try to hide, try to tell any of the authorities, You'll be dead." She looked up behind him and smiled. "Jake and Thomas will make sure of that."
   Luke looked to either side of him, seeing two very burly, identical men with matching tattoos on their right arms. He recognized them from the few times he had met Trinity on her ship. Twins, silent and ruthless. He gulped and slowly stood, easing back from Trinity's knife to do so. "Sunset, right. And, uh, these gents will help me get there in time, I'm sure. Right. Sunset. I'll be seeing you then."
   "Yes you will." Trinity smiled sweetly at him and sheathed her blade. "I look forward to it. oh, and do be careful. I hear there's some brutal people on the island right now."
   Luke walked hesitantly out the door, flanked on either side by the twins. Trinity leaned back again and gestured a bar wench to her, ordering a pint of ale and the stew.
 

Bad Poem #3

Everyday
I hope for proof
I'm not a naive person
Everyday
All I get
Is evidence that I am

Bad Poem #2

You claim everything
That you were never around to earn
Try to demand the respect
I can't just give you for coming back
How can I see you differently
When you give me no way to?

Bad Poem #1

What was
But wasn't
And never could be
But for a moment
It truly was
Sometimes it's missed horribly
Sometimes hardly at all
But always
It is missed