mid-pregnancy, your dad brought home a heap of new movies for us to watch, most of them were cheese-mo - it's SO VERY HARD to find a good thriller that isn't stupid. you don't know this because i don't allow you to watch r rated movies. (even though by the time you read this you are pushing 25 or 30....you still are under my rule, and have yet to see anything remotely hostile. not even "Dirty Dancing")
as we were watching one of the movies, it really made me nauseated. i just...there is something about having this innocent creature in your womb that just...well...things like cuss words and horror films just feel weird. and i couldn't take it. Thus ending the reign of terror on our television.
ever once in a blue moon, i still want to watch a scary movie, but as soon as the thrill begins....i remember that you are in the next room asleep and my motherly instict takes over the remote and turns the movie to something less...real and something more fictional. like that tv show "Hoarders", or the nightly news.
it occurs to me - now that i am coming off of my anxiety meds and i am not that numb anymore -that i may have loved those movies so much because they made me feel. that's not to be depressing. it's matter-of-fact. anxiety meds make me so calm, but it's also not that fun to not be able to have real emotions.
hi. did you know your mom might be a lunatic? blame your papaw. and uncle.
last night, however, my love of the zombie film and my love for you came together wrapped in a sweet little package mixed with my love of sleep. could it get any better?!?! i MUST be dreaming.
and i was. dreaming. of the Zombie Apocalypse.
we were in some sort of city-type area with lots of buildings. which is the perfect place to be a zombie what with a large population in a small area. zombies rarely go hungry in an urban atmosphere.
i realized that you had been bitten and your zombie-like instincts of wanting my blood had taken over. you were a zombie. and you were chasing me. i had only one option: to rip your head off of your body.
i mean, duh. naturally.
and i was. dreaming. of the Zombie Apocalypse.
we were in some sort of city-type area with lots of buildings. which is the perfect place to be a zombie what with a large population in a small area. zombies rarely go hungry in an urban atmosphere.
i realized that you had been bitten and your zombie-like instincts of wanting my blood had taken over. you were a zombie. and you were chasing me. i had only one option: to rip your head off of your body.
i mean, duh. naturally.
anyone who has ever been a mother knows that it isn't possible to rip the head of your child off. it's not physically possible. it's been tried many, many times with little kids that don't eat their vegetables. it's just not possible. well....that coupled with i love you, and couldn't bring myself to it...or whatever. so i had to think of a new plan: keep you AND me alive even though we were mortal (or in your case, immortal) enemies.
think fast, momma bear...if i let you nibble a little on me, i would become a zombie, too....but...there is something about eating people that grosses me out. i mean. you never know where those people have been or if they've washed their hands after they used the restroom. i don't want that in my mouth. no matter how much my body craves and requires their flesh. not gonna do it.
and yes. that is my ONLY reason for not wanting to be a zombie. well...along with their choice in attire. they always have tattered clothes. oh. and they walk funny, too. but those are all very valid and wildly important reasons to stay human....everyone knows this.
in ANY case...my quick thinking brought me to a building, that was full of non-brain-ingesting people, where i hid you in a closet. it's remarkable how in all zombie movies, they never show you how reasonable a zombie can be. especially a baby zombie. i had absolutely NO problems explaining to you why you shouldn't eat me and how i was working FOR you. such a trusting little zombie you are. i wish you would listen to me that easily in reality...like when i tell you to stop eating the dog's food...or not to stick your fingers in electrical sockets.
after i had you safely nestled in your closet, i would go back out in the hall and find someone looking for a safe-haven, and tell them that i know a good place to hide from the horrible monsters. (which...you are not a monster, sweet zombie-jovie, don't get self-conscious....i just had to LIE to these people to lure them to your desperate tummy) after i brought them to you, i would close the door and let you carry on in peace, while i stood guard.
when you were done gobbling them up, you would open the door and stick your head out to give me that wonderfully warm and sweet "thank you mommy!" zombie smile. complete with blood and guts from whoever you had just inhaled.
such a gracious and loving little zombie-baby you are. i LIKE it.
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