Word of the Day: slake I got my Betty back!!!!!! We got the wireless stuff in yesterday, and by the time I was home from work, it was working. *Betty's back dance* So now all I'm going to do all day long is stay in bed and play on the computer, getting up only for water and food. And it will be good. I went to my appointment Thursday morning. The lady was overenthusiastic but nice. She was all explaining to me what's happening and why I'm feeling the way I do, etc., etc., while I'm thinking, 'I have the internet, friend. I'm aware.' She told me, going by the beginning date of my last period, that I was eighteen weeks and two days. She asked me if I was sure of the date, and I said I was. She was all like, 'Ah, you're the type of girl who writes these things down, huh?' and I was all like, 'No, but this I remember.' I mean, considering it was JD's birthday and all, I should remember. Any road, she told me she thought I was farther along than that, like nineteen or twenty weeks, by feeling where the top of my uterus is. She's all like, 'I only heard one heartbeat, but we'll let the ultrasound tell what's going on.' So, there you go. Twins? Oh, no, please, not twins. I told JD what the lady said. He was naturally disturbed. Later that evening, he gave me a hug and said, 'I love you, baby,' to me and then, 'I love you, Baby,' to the baby. 'Baby. One baby. Singular baby. Not more.' Tuesday will tell. But what would happen if we had twins? We'd have to think of another set of names, first off. We'd have to find more money, most definitely. I don't even like babies, so one at a time was what I really wanted. I think I'd cry as much as the babies would. I think I'm going to do that anyway. The lady who lives upstairs always gets our FedEx packages for us because we're never home or I'm always sleeping. So I went up there yesterday asking about our wireless package, and there was yelling coming from the master bedroom window. She has a little boy who has to be four or something, and I think she was yelling at him. I knocked on the door and she yelled for me to come in, so I opened the door, poked my head in and asked for my package. She gave it to me with a mean look and didn't say anything to me, and pushed the little boy back in the bedroom. I think she's really unhappy. Her husband works during the day, he might even be seven on seven or fourteen on seven, and she doesn't work. So she's at home all day long with her little boy, unhappy and alone. I often see her sitting on the steps, just sitting there by herself, looking like she wants to die. When I see her there, I always think, 'God, that's going to be me, isn't it?' I can see myself being Kelly, staying at home with my child, being unhappy, getting so impatient and horribly tired of it all that I just want to kill myself. That's just sometimes, though. Sometimes I can see myself being a good mother, being happy, loving, good. I don't know, I just get myself scared sometimes. I can do it, though. My mommy did it with me, and I turned out all right.