The hardest thing about bedrest

I think I can confidently say of myself that I fall into the category of people who are self sufficient. (stop snickering) Even getting married was a mental leap for me at the age of 27 as though I was saying to the world that I was willing to be a dependent or even that I was willing to share a spot on my couch.

Who am I kidding ... I still don't share the couch. See how patient Dr. J is?

Bed rest (is that one word or two?) requires that I ask people to do everything for me. It's not that I can't do things ... it's that I'm not supposed to do it. That's the tough part, I CAN do it. (also writing on a computer while you are sideways pretty much gives me seizures so that's one activity that is quickly going by the way side)

However, the absolute WORST thing about bed rest is that yesterday, my mom made brownies ... with raspberry chocolate chips in them ... and they are sitting in the kitchen. It pretty much sucks all the fun out of sneaking extra brownies when you have to ask someone to bring you one ... and then when you finally can stand it no more and you break down and ask for a brownie, they respond with "are you sure?" In my mind, I punched him with a giant boxing glove that shot out from the end of a massive spring, causing him to spin around like a Looney Toons Character until he saw a rotating halo of stars and little chirping chicks. OF COURSE I'M SURE! HELLOOOOOOOOO! Pregnant, twins, bedrest, severe back pain, birthday, brownies with raspberry chips???? Any of this ringing a bell??

To husbands everywhere I beseech you - if your wife finds herself in this situation, bring her a PAN of brownies and a FORK. Then turn your back, and walk away.