Yesterday sucked.

Yesterday sucked stunk (I have to remember that I am still a lady).

It wasn't the typical run-of-the-mill bad day. Ansley was an absolute joy, and very easy to handle, going down easily and briefly waking about 3:30 for her paci.

I didn't lose my job, or bounce a check. I didn't get a ticket, or even stub my toe (though I did drop a very heavy coffee mug on my foot that got me dangerously close to saying a very not nice word).

I didn't burn dinner, or have a huge argument with the hubs. But I did cry my way home.

I normally don't use this blog for such negative purposes as complaining about people, but it's my blog, so get over it.

Growing up, I spent much of my free time with an older cousin. I pretty much lived at her house during the summers and school breaks. This was how it worked, up until about 7th grade.

We normally had a good time, but moments would come when my aunt would have to send me home, because we had obviously spent way too much time together and were getting on each other's last nerve. But, we had fun, and I have some great memories.

My first trip to Disney world and Sea World was with her. My first major-league baseball game was with her. My first trip to the Atlanta Zoo was with her.

I have some bad memories too. Like when I made her mad and she dumped a cherry slushi on my head at the Atlanta Zoo. Or when she showed me these awesome, HUGE, long cotton stickers that her mom used, and had me stick them all over the living room walls (ok, they were pads and that was actually pretty funny). Or when she told me my parents only got married because I was born.

She was an only child, and we were pretty much like sisters, even though she's about 6 years older than me.

I hit middle school, and started to turn into my own person. I would spend my summers with friends, and started to go out on my own. I started traveling, and seeing things for myself, all while she seemed to look for love in all the wrong places.

There was never really a huge falling out that I can trace our problems back to. No argument, no name calling, nothing. But somehow, I became the focus of her distaste.

She has always loved kids, and after much difficulty conceiving, she found herself pregnant with twins thanks to IVF. When I announced my first pregnancy, and discovered my little one was due just a couple weeks before hers, I was excited about having someone to share my experience with. No congratulations, only a cold shoulder.

And when I found out that I lost the baby, almost half-way through my pregnancy, no comforting words from someone who had experienced similar difficulties.

Maybe I'm just dense, but I didn't really think too much of it until last summer. Some of our family had ventured down from Indiana and over from Arizona. Despite being so far apart, we can have a great time when all together.

I was pregnant. Very pregnant. They were only in town for a few days, and we were planning on going out to dinner one evening. She called to ask how many reservations were needed, and once she realized that my mother and I were planning on attending, the plans were canceled and dropped, as far as I knew. I found out from my sister that everyone was getting together at my cousin's house.

Maybe I shouldn't have invited myself, but I did. And I showed up. And my aunt from Arizona was all about me being pregnant, talking about babies and feeling over-active Ansley playing soccer with my organs.

Several things happened that day. She would not be in the same room with me. And when she was griping that no one would go pick up the pizzas, leaving her to do it, she did not even acknowledge my multiple offers to go pick up the pizza. So, I left. I took my sister, brother-in-law and brother and left.

Fast forward to last night. Same family is in visiting. We are all enjoying our evening at my grandparents, spending time with cousins and second cousins.

I'm not sure what happened after that. It involved her not even looking at me, and going from room to room to make sure she wasn't near me, ignoring anyone who played with my kiddo.
And, so I left. And I cried. All the way home.

And it kills me. Because as much as I want to shrug it off and simply say "Oh well, her loss," I know it isn't. It's my loss too. And it's Ansley's loss.

My parents have always told me it's a jealousy issue. Which I find ironic since she grew up getting everything she asked for, while I enjoyed her hand-me-downs and toys from Goodwill. It's also been described as sibling rivalry, but I've never experienced anything like that with my sisters. We fought like sisters do growing up, but we are all extremely close now, and we even say "I love you."

I've bent over backwards to try to make it better. And sometimes it seems like it is, but I know it isn't. And it hurts me. Because I can see Paul's family get together, and all the cousins gather round, and share their funny stories. And laugh together for hours. And that doesn't happen with me or any of my cousins.

If you made it to the end, good for you. I left a ton out, but didn't feel I wanted to completely air out my dirty laundry. And I thought about not even writing this, since it is a public blog, and my cousin could find her way here. But, I'm ok with that. Because from everything I've seen, since it has to do with me, she'll steer clear.

My child hates me.

Of this, I am almost completely certain.

Exhibit A: If Paul is holding her, she rarely comes to me. If I'm holding her, she always goes to him.

Exhibit B: If she playing on the floor and I walk out of the room, nothin'. Paul walks out of the room, squalls, and a fast little tubby tub crawling along after him.

Exhibit C: She looks exactly like him. Ok, so I know she really doesn't have control of this, but it just adds fuel to the fire.

Exhibit 4: This morning, she woke me up at 7 a.m. After feeding and playing for a little while, I had to start getting ready for work. I showered while she happily played in the floor. I went and put her in the bed with Paul while I got dressed, thinking she would be all cute and crawl all over him, waking him up to enjoy the morning. But instead, that little booger cuddled up beside him, grabbed her bear and went to sleep. At 8:30 a.m. I left for work at 9, both still snoozing. Paul called at 11, because THEY HAD JUST WOKEN UP!!!

Friday night, Ansley didn't go down until midnight, then woke up at 2 and I couldn't get her to sleep until 3:3o. We napped on the couch until 5, struggled to take a bottle, played for a bit, had some fruit at 7, FINALLY went back to sleep at 8, and woke up at 9:30, all while Daddy was able to sleep soundly in the comfy bed. Where is the fairness in that?

Ansley,
I carried you in my belly for 35 weeks. I let you kick and squirm and make me throw up and get stretch marks. I labored to get you out for 21 hours. Despite being a preemie, you weren't small, and mommy had to get stitches where no one should ever have to get them. I fed you my own specially made milk, which Daddy didn't have, and I've taken your temperature rectally, which Daddy has never done. And this is what I get?

I'll get you back, don't worry. I haven't been taking embarrassing pictures for nothing. Just wait till you bring friends over, or that first boy home. Then you'll wish you had let me sleep just a little longer.

Love,
Mommy

Bella Swan is an idiot.

Paul and Ansley have been out of town the past week, leaving me well rested but missing them extremely.

So, I made me some plans, but I wasn't looking forward to any as much as I was looking forward to seeing "Eclipse." I feel I should explain.

I do NOT consider myself a "twihard." I've never once claimed a team, and my child is not named Bella. Or Esme. Or Renesme. Nope.

When the first movie opened, my youngest sister asked me if I wanted to have a girls' night and see a movie. Always up for a good flick, I agreed and quickly tried to back out once I discovered she had picked "Twilight."

I've never been into the whole vampire scene. I watched "Buffy" growing up, but, mainly because I enjoyed David Boreanez. He was pretty.

Back to Twilight. My sister insisted that I tag along, and promised that the movie was not a typical "vampire" story.

So, we wait in line for nearly an hour just to get into the theater. We find some seats, and the movie begins.

Now, having not read the books, I had no idea what was going on. I didn't know the Cullens were "vegetarians." I didn't know they sparkled. I didn't know each person has a distinct scent that can drive a vampire crazy. So, when Bella stepped in front of the fan, sending Edward starts wriggling in his seat, I lean over and ask my sis "Hey, what's the deal here? He isn't acting like that around the other humans."

She told me he could smell her blood. Hmm. For some reason, I assumed she must have been bleeding for him to smell her blood. I leaned in and asked my sister, "Is she on her period?"

After she managed to stop laughing, she explained it to me.

The movie was enjoyable, though cheesy, so I decided that I would read the books.

Four books. One month. Pretty impressive.

So, with Paul and Ansley out of town this week, I planned a trip to the theater to catch the latest installment with my sisters, mom, a bestie and one of my sister's friends. And, here's what I learned, not just from "Eclipse," but the whole series.

1. Bella Swan is a complete idiot.
Some examples: Typically, I like to think that age isn't an issue. Sometimes, however, it does come into play. Dating someone 8 years older than you while in middle school? Big Deal. Dating someone 8 years older than you in college, or after college? Not so much. Girl being older by 2 years? No biggie. Guy being older by 90 years? HUGE DEAL. Come on Bella. That's beyond cool. We call that "illegal" where I come from.
Why would you get on a motorcycle after dark with some scuzzy guy you don't know? Even if it made you feel like you departed love was with you. Couldn't you just relive the memories? Stupid move, Swan. Stupid move.
Picking an ice cold, sparkly dead guy over a tanned, beautiful smile, warm, toned previous Shark Boy? Did that really happen?

There are a number of other events that leave me scratching my head throughout the books and movies. I often refer to the series as "girl porn" with my girls in class. Not only is it entirely driven by hormones (there were more hormones in that theater than a Tyson chicken plant), but it leaves girls with a complete misconception of what a guy should be like.

Should a guy be a gentleman and protect his girl? Yes. But does that mean he should climb into her room at night and watch her sleep? H-to-the-No.

The Twilight Saga captures teen angst perfectly. Every girl longs for an Edward, just like in years past they've longed for Romeo. The thing to remember is Edward is not real. And neither is Jacob. And to expect real men (or, teen guys) to act like such is a false reality.

There's nothing wrong with getting swept up in a good story, and nothing captures female's attention more than a story of a star-crossed romance succeeding. But, we have to remember, that in reality, guys don't sparkle. In reality, guys that sneak into our rooms to watch us sleep are creepy. In reality, 17 year olds don't date guys over the age of 100. In reality, guys don't look like Jacob Black.

Except Taylor Lautner. He kinda looks like him.