Eric didn't know what to make of it. At dinner, he tried asking me, "So, do you have any amusing and adorable stories from work?" When I frowned and shook my head, he sighed. He knows that I love talking about the kids in the library, but I was just not in the mood to regale the party with funny anecdotes. In fact, I didn't say much at all throughout dinner. Every once in a while, I'd try to join in, suggesting entrees or pointing out something Eric had done recently, but it was all done in a rather halting manner. I felt suddenly bipolar; one minute I was forcing myself to laugh and smile and be outgoing, but the next minute I was staring off at a wall, wishing myself anywhere but at a table with Eric and his parents.

It makes no sense, this hostility that builds in me when they come onto our turf. Realizing the irrationality of my behavior, I tried dosing myself with beech flower extract - generally good for moodiness. It worked for all of fifteen minutes, at which point I was back to being snarky. Ronnie asked Eric to go work out with him early this morning, and I almost bit the inside of my lip off; I didn't want Eric to go! I wanted to spend Saturday morning alone with him, in bed, talking and cuddling. It's our routine! How can he walk in here and change our routine?! But Eric wanted to go, so he went. And I woke up to tell him goodbye, and have been up ever since, doing chores, reading email, and feeling generally sorry for myself.

I don't want to feel sorry for myself. I want to enjoy this time with them, with all of them. I think the problem lies somewhere in the fact that I'm not a part of them, or at least I don't feel as if I am. Rita and Ronnie came to visit Eric; they're here to see their son. I feel incidental in the whole matter. Whether or not they consider me as such isn't really the issue; I actually "know" that they don't. That's not the way I end up perceiving it, though, when they spend most of the time talking to Eric, asking about Eric's work, and telling Eric how good he looks. I feel as if I'm standing off in the shadows, watching his parents bask in the radiance of their son, who, by the way, happens to be my husband.

Of course, perhaps if I weren't sulking like a baby, they'd be more able to engage me in conversation. Harumph.

Bryan, it seems, can't let Eric go first at anything. It's a generally accepted fact among the family that Bryan purposefully proposed to Lynda and set a quick wedding date because he wanted to be married before Eric and me. He's just that competitive; he couldn't let his baby brother go first in anything. Now, a wedding date contest was funny, but a race to impregnate wives? Has he even thought about what he's doing? Rita nodded and grinned when Eric asked if they were doing this so they could have the first grandchild; Bryan and Lynda's original plan was to wait about a year and a half before having children.

If she gets pregnant before I do, it's going to be a real challenge for me to be around her for a long, long time. Everything has seemed to come easy for those two. I wouldn't be surprised if children do, as well.

Gosh, listen to me! Bitter about my mother and father-in-law, bitter about my sister and brother-in-law. I'm not very happy with myself right now. I don't want to be a hateful person; I don't know what's evoking these feelings in me. Am I really this bitter? Am I losing my mind over this whole conception thing, or is this indeed something over which I can legitimately be upset?

In another dream, I was at a country fair. I went into the public restroom and was almost bowled over by the stench. There were infant incubators serving as changing tables in every stall, and they were filled with murky fluid that reeked to high heaven. I was barely able to stay standing, and I just kept thinking, Who on earth would put a baby in there?

Any amateur dream interpreters out there? I'm stumped; I didn't even know I could smell anything in a dream, to begin with. Is that unusual?

And, while you're at it, wish that no sharp objects come into my hands at any opportune moments. That would also be helpful.