Wait what? I whine in every post? Inconceivable!
So the hubs has been gone for 3 days. Which like whatever. What is 3 days? Nothing. But this 3 days was unplanned. Unexpected. And super annoying. It's hot as fuck, I'm pregnant as fuck, and my pelvis is falling apart. As fuck.
And if I whine to him I get this song and dance about how stressful his life is and how hard I am making it on him. My response, and I quote, "You're a real fucking prick sometimes." And I don't even feel bad for saying that. Because he is.
So back to my pelvis. I know you've been thinking about it for the past four sentences. It hurts so much. My pubic bone is splitting apart so that even when I'm lying down, it screams when I try to move my legs. I also have what I can only describe as groin pain. I kindof always associated groin with dudes because well, it seems like that means they pulled a ball muscle (do balls have muscles? I don't know.) But anyway when I describe the pain to hubs he insists that is what groin pain is. It's deep. It burns. And as long as I insist on walking, it continues to hurt. So basically it hurts when I walk and hurts when I lie down.
Baby girl is a tiny dancer. She moves constantly. I've never had a baby move this much. It is really cool obviously but some days it contributes to the wall o' pelvic pain and it also makes me have to pee a ridiculous amount of times in an hour.
Still needing to get her room and things set up but with an absent husband, a toddler, an 8 year old, a part time job, AND the inability to walk, I fear that this little gal is going to suffer being the last child and therefore painfully neglected. She won't realize she's neglected until she's like 4 though right? So I have some time to turn it around.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw?
Jimmy Buffet anyone? No, okay well that's a real song. So is My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink and I Don't Love Jesus. Know it, love it, live it.
Any-h-way, let's just say that I've been sober a lot the last few years. Like a lot. I've been pregnant for basically a year and a half and also breast fed for a year between that. Not to say I didn't get all CA-RAZY when I was breastfeeding, it was just kindof a huge pain in the ass so most of the time it was NOT worth it. Pumping and dumping before bed while you're drunk and wanting to talk about the nonsensical night you just had to your sleeping husband is not that fulfilling. (By the way, by getting CA-RAZY, I mean I had a few glasses of wine and said some things I found witty. Although once I did make a guy cry.)
So last night we had a little bbq to go to. This was with some of my husband's co-workers and their employees. The employees, incidentally are all in their early twenties, single, and still in the party their socks off stage. (Party their socks off made me sound way old didn't it?) Well the point is, I was the only pregnant old lady there, and therefore, the only sober person there. I was actually enjoying myself and managed a few witty comments even without the aid of alcohol. Did I mention this little shindig happened on a Wednesday night? Again, I'm old.
Around 1 o'clock a.m. I decided that the intoxication levels had reached a point that any sober person shouldn't be asked to tolerate, pregnant or not. I'd heard the same story from a person 3 times in a row. Like literally, she would finish telling it, say how funny it was, and then tell it again. I know for a fact that I do this when I am drunk too so maybe that's the key to making it ok, but sober BU was rolling her eyes and wanting to go home. Finally around 2 o'clock I crawled into my bed with my drunk husband and fell asleep immediately.
The thing about babies is that they don't give a shit if you went to bed at 2 am. L went ahead and woke up this morning like nothing had happened. He actually did sleep later than normal, which was nice, but 8:30 still came early. This day has turned into a nappy, grouchy, don't leave the couch kind of day. You might think the point of this post is to convince myself not to go to anymore Wednesday night drinking fests with 20 somethings, but the real point is OMG I can't wait to have a drink.
Any-h-way, let's just say that I've been sober a lot the last few years. Like a lot. I've been pregnant for basically a year and a half and also breast fed for a year between that. Not to say I didn't get all CA-RAZY when I was breastfeeding, it was just kindof a huge pain in the ass so most of the time it was NOT worth it. Pumping and dumping before bed while you're drunk and wanting to talk about the nonsensical night you just had to your sleeping husband is not that fulfilling. (By the way, by getting CA-RAZY, I mean I had a few glasses of wine and said some things I found witty. Although once I did make a guy cry.)
So last night we had a little bbq to go to. This was with some of my husband's co-workers and their employees. The employees, incidentally are all in their early twenties, single, and still in the party their socks off stage. (Party their socks off made me sound way old didn't it?) Well the point is, I was the only pregnant old lady there, and therefore, the only sober person there. I was actually enjoying myself and managed a few witty comments even without the aid of alcohol. Did I mention this little shindig happened on a Wednesday night? Again, I'm old.
Around 1 o'clock a.m. I decided that the intoxication levels had reached a point that any sober person shouldn't be asked to tolerate, pregnant or not. I'd heard the same story from a person 3 times in a row. Like literally, she would finish telling it, say how funny it was, and then tell it again. I know for a fact that I do this when I am drunk too so maybe that's the key to making it ok, but sober BU was rolling her eyes and wanting to go home. Finally around 2 o'clock I crawled into my bed with my drunk husband and fell asleep immediately.
The thing about babies is that they don't give a shit if you went to bed at 2 am. L went ahead and woke up this morning like nothing had happened. He actually did sleep later than normal, which was nice, but 8:30 still came early. This day has turned into a nappy, grouchy, don't leave the couch kind of day. You might think the point of this post is to convince myself not to go to anymore Wednesday night drinking fests with 20 somethings, but the real point is OMG I can't wait to have a drink.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
OMG
I've started saying, out loud, on a regular basis, "OMG." Literally just the three little letters O-M-G like I am somehow a Weird Science version of my blog self. This is disturbing on several different levels but mainly on the one where this makes me look very, very old. Ok well that's the main level but the upstairs to that level is that I am very, very old but still trying to act like I am young. I assure you that saying OMG does NOT actually make me think that I am younger, it just comes out of my mouth involuntarily when I am annoyed. Which quite frankly, is rather often.
Another fact this new speak spews forth is that perhaps my online life is taking over my real life life. After all, most days you can find me tucked comfortably into my air conditioned house with the doors and blinds closed to keep out the sweltering heat. I am, in fact, 30 weeks pregnant and it is mother fucking hot out. I am also typically skyping with bloggy friends all over the country. But you know, not face to face skyping. Typing skyping. So OMG probably shows up often in my daily adult "conversations." I would also blame this blog but I haven't written a single post in nearly 2 weeks so I guess it is off the hook.
So yeah, 30 weeks. I start seeing the doctor every 2 weeks now. I weigh more than I ever have in my entire life, and I've developed a little problem with my blood sugar crashing. I ended up in a doctors office the other night and my blood sugar was at a 61 which I was told was not scary low but low nonetheless. I was sent home with a glucose monitor and some orange juice. In case you have forgotten, this little baby has a teeny vageeny so we are working out a list of lady names but will wait until she's born to pick one definitively (although I can tell you the front runners are London or Scarlett.) I have not even started her room yet nor bought furniture. Her wardrobe is shaping up nicely due to my sister's impeccable taste and the fact that her daughter is nearly 3 so she is willing to part with her wardrobe. My neighbor has also provided a drawer or two full of little pink clothes. Now all that's left is to face reality that this little girl will probably be here in 6-8 weeks. OMG.
Another fact this new speak spews forth is that perhaps my online life is taking over my real life life. After all, most days you can find me tucked comfortably into my air conditioned house with the doors and blinds closed to keep out the sweltering heat. I am, in fact, 30 weeks pregnant and it is mother fucking hot out. I am also typically skyping with bloggy friends all over the country. But you know, not face to face skyping. Typing skyping. So OMG probably shows up often in my daily adult "conversations." I would also blame this blog but I haven't written a single post in nearly 2 weeks so I guess it is off the hook.
So yeah, 30 weeks. I start seeing the doctor every 2 weeks now. I weigh more than I ever have in my entire life, and I've developed a little problem with my blood sugar crashing. I ended up in a doctors office the other night and my blood sugar was at a 61 which I was told was not scary low but low nonetheless. I was sent home with a glucose monitor and some orange juice. In case you have forgotten, this little baby has a teeny vageeny so we are working out a list of lady names but will wait until she's born to pick one definitively (although I can tell you the front runners are London or Scarlett.) I have not even started her room yet nor bought furniture. Her wardrobe is shaping up nicely due to my sister's impeccable taste and the fact that her daughter is nearly 3 so she is willing to part with her wardrobe. My neighbor has also provided a drawer or two full of little pink clothes. Now all that's left is to face reality that this little girl will probably be here in 6-8 weeks. OMG.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Tidbits
I don't really have a coherent post floating around in my head right now, so I thought I'd make a list of things that have gone on over the past few days and also some things that have come in and out of my head frequently lately. This might give you an idea of how confusing it is to be me.
- My air conditioner went out on Saturday. Anyone who knows me IRL or on FB is probably sick to death of hearing about this but I don't give a fuck. It has been over 100 degrees in my neck of the woods for the past few days, and I am also 7 months pregnant. 7 months pregnant = hot = fat = sweaty. Like ridiculously hot, fat and sweaty even when the AC is on. So here I am, at home, trying to figure out how to stay cool and all I can do is just go to my parents' house. Now my parents are super awesome, but spending several days in a row with them makes them seem less awesome. Nuff said. Then when the sun went down, we'd come home and open all doors and windows and turn on fans and hope that we didn't pass out. The short end to this excruciating story is that it is sortof fixed and my house is now at least decent enough to stay home in.
- I do like a clean house. I have daily chore lists and projects. Bugs has chores too. Now I'd like to say that my house is spotless all the time, but it sure the fuck isn't. I've given this a lot of thought because I feel like I clean constantly and don't understand why I always see the mess. The reality is that there are a fuck load of people that live in this house and I am pretty much the only person concerned with its state of cleanliness. This is why I have chosen to give up on cleaning bathtubs and dusting. Well, ok, I clean the one bathtub that my baby actually bathes in, but all the other tubs and showers can go straight to hell. And the tub that the baby bathes in? Well it gets cleaned every time he takes a dump in it. Which realistically is kindof a lot so that thing does get cleaned. Dusting? OMG. I fucking hate it and find it inconvenient and useless. You can sometimes find me using an old sock to sweep up noticeable dust. But only when company is coming over.
- I live in BFE, so I don't get company that often = dusty house.
- This morning I was thinking about all the little things I do. You know, the ones that nobody really notices but if you were gone then someone would go to wash their hands and be like, "Oh we're out of soap in here. How did the soap ever get filled before?" I swear my husband just thinks we are clean people and doesn't fully understand that I am actually working my ass off daily to look like we are clean people. Minus the dust and the conditioner stained shower walls. Anyway, I feel as if I were to run away that my children would never have hair or finger nail trimmings, their clothes would all be too small and non-matchy, nobody would have toilet paper ever, and hand washing, tooth brushing and bedtime wouldn't exist.
- I am 29 weeks pregnant today. L was born at 36w6d, so if this little gal comes early as well, that means I could very well have a baby soon. Like soon soon. This epiphany hit me yesterday like a ton of bricks and now I am in desperation mode trying to figure out some key things, like where the fuck is she going to sleep? And where will I put her numerous outfits? Obviously some furniture shopping is in order.
- When I am typing a post/letter/email, I fully intend to do spell check when I am finished with the project. But for some reason, if I spell something incorrectly, I just cannot ignore that stupid red squiggly line and I have to fix the spelling error immediately.
- I am totally off my anti-anxiety meds now and have been for a few weeks. Most days are really good and I do fine. But other days that are too hot or stupid overwhelm me and I come up with posts like these where I get annoying things off my chest in a belligerent fashion. I've also had a good cry or two in the past few days.
- I moved over a year ago and somehow in the move, lost a Dexter netflix disc so we have been unable to cancel netflix since. Ok, haven't really tried, but in my mind I was going to have to find Dexter and send him back before they'd let me cancel without charging me gazillions of dollars. Today I came into my office and lo and behold, the disk is just sitting here. Hubs must have found it and now I can send it back and finally cancel that shit.
- I realize this post is getting long and out of control. I'll be back tomorrow. (Spell check time.)
- My air conditioner went out on Saturday. Anyone who knows me IRL or on FB is probably sick to death of hearing about this but I don't give a fuck. It has been over 100 degrees in my neck of the woods for the past few days, and I am also 7 months pregnant. 7 months pregnant = hot = fat = sweaty. Like ridiculously hot, fat and sweaty even when the AC is on. So here I am, at home, trying to figure out how to stay cool and all I can do is just go to my parents' house. Now my parents are super awesome, but spending several days in a row with them makes them seem less awesome. Nuff said. Then when the sun went down, we'd come home and open all doors and windows and turn on fans and hope that we didn't pass out. The short end to this excruciating story is that it is sortof fixed and my house is now at least decent enough to stay home in.
- I do like a clean house. I have daily chore lists and projects. Bugs has chores too. Now I'd like to say that my house is spotless all the time, but it sure the fuck isn't. I've given this a lot of thought because I feel like I clean constantly and don't understand why I always see the mess. The reality is that there are a fuck load of people that live in this house and I am pretty much the only person concerned with its state of cleanliness. This is why I have chosen to give up on cleaning bathtubs and dusting. Well, ok, I clean the one bathtub that my baby actually bathes in, but all the other tubs and showers can go straight to hell. And the tub that the baby bathes in? Well it gets cleaned every time he takes a dump in it. Which realistically is kindof a lot so that thing does get cleaned. Dusting? OMG. I fucking hate it and find it inconvenient and useless. You can sometimes find me using an old sock to sweep up noticeable dust. But only when company is coming over.
- I live in BFE, so I don't get company that often = dusty house.
- This morning I was thinking about all the little things I do. You know, the ones that nobody really notices but if you were gone then someone would go to wash their hands and be like, "Oh we're out of soap in here. How did the soap ever get filled before?" I swear my husband just thinks we are clean people and doesn't fully understand that I am actually working my ass off daily to look like we are clean people. Minus the dust and the conditioner stained shower walls. Anyway, I feel as if I were to run away that my children would never have hair or finger nail trimmings, their clothes would all be too small and non-matchy, nobody would have toilet paper ever, and hand washing, tooth brushing and bedtime wouldn't exist.
- I am 29 weeks pregnant today. L was born at 36w6d, so if this little gal comes early as well, that means I could very well have a baby soon. Like soon soon. This epiphany hit me yesterday like a ton of bricks and now I am in desperation mode trying to figure out some key things, like where the fuck is she going to sleep? And where will I put her numerous outfits? Obviously some furniture shopping is in order.
- When I am typing a post/letter/email, I fully intend to do spell check when I am finished with the project. But for some reason, if I spell something incorrectly, I just cannot ignore that stupid red squiggly line and I have to fix the spelling error immediately.
- I am totally off my anti-anxiety meds now and have been for a few weeks. Most days are really good and I do fine. But other days that are too hot or stupid overwhelm me and I come up with posts like these where I get annoying things off my chest in a belligerent fashion. I've also had a good cry or two in the past few days.
- I moved over a year ago and somehow in the move, lost a Dexter netflix disc so we have been unable to cancel netflix since. Ok, haven't really tried, but in my mind I was going to have to find Dexter and send him back before they'd let me cancel without charging me gazillions of dollars. Today I came into my office and lo and behold, the disk is just sitting here. Hubs must have found it and now I can send it back and finally cancel that shit.
- I realize this post is getting long and out of control. I'll be back tomorrow. (Spell check time.)
Friday, July 6, 2012
Lessons
Next month, I'll have been married for 11 years. I was 22 when I got married (note to anyone under 22 out there... 22 is WAY too young to get married. I know you think you are all mature and awesome and you can't wait to say I Do and have a baby, but trust me, you learn so much about yourself in your 20's and when you are married, you have to consider other people when learning hard lessons. It's not easy.) My point, ah yes, my point is that there have been some amazing times and some hard fought battles and lots of learning experiences, some which still bewilder me.
I was talking to my bestie last night and I was telling her about a recent event that happened in which a company took my husband to small claims court. Now, if it were me, I would be all sorts of prepared with documents, record keeping and a solid argument. Not to mention a new suit and a sweet up-do. I'd show up to court 30 minutes early, rebuttals prepared and rehearsed, and a solid plan for winning the case.
My husband? Well, he forgot all about it.
10 years ago, or even 5 years ago, I would have been nagging him for weeks in advance to prepare his arguments, get his records together, get his suit cleaned, etc. etc. This would have lead to weeks of us fighting over it and him being mad at me for telling him what to do, and me not understanding why the hell he doesn't take care of important shit. After many, many trials and errors in this department, I have learned to leave the documentation on the counter, maybe remind him once or twice that it's coming up, cross my fingers and hope for the best.
No fighting. No nagging. No hurt feelings.
Of course, this also leads to a judgement against him in court, but I have learned to let this be his problem, not mine. (Also I still don't understand why the hell he doesn't take care of important shit.) He's a big picture person, I'm a details person. I help with details when I can, but I am not his mom, or his assistant.
Another extremely important thing I've learned in the last decade is to NEVER NEVER NEVER video yourself doing it. Sometimes you think it will be all sexy, like say after a few margaritas, but it is SO NOT. We are fat, hairy people, and it just doesn't look good. Fortunately, this only took one lesson to really learn it.
I was talking to my bestie last night and I was telling her about a recent event that happened in which a company took my husband to small claims court. Now, if it were me, I would be all sorts of prepared with documents, record keeping and a solid argument. Not to mention a new suit and a sweet up-do. I'd show up to court 30 minutes early, rebuttals prepared and rehearsed, and a solid plan for winning the case.
My husband? Well, he forgot all about it.
10 years ago, or even 5 years ago, I would have been nagging him for weeks in advance to prepare his arguments, get his records together, get his suit cleaned, etc. etc. This would have lead to weeks of us fighting over it and him being mad at me for telling him what to do, and me not understanding why the hell he doesn't take care of important shit. After many, many trials and errors in this department, I have learned to leave the documentation on the counter, maybe remind him once or twice that it's coming up, cross my fingers and hope for the best.
No fighting. No nagging. No hurt feelings.
Of course, this also leads to a judgement against him in court, but I have learned to let this be his problem, not mine. (Also I still don't understand why the hell he doesn't take care of important shit.) He's a big picture person, I'm a details person. I help with details when I can, but I am not his mom, or his assistant.
Another extremely important thing I've learned in the last decade is to NEVER NEVER NEVER video yourself doing it. Sometimes you think it will be all sexy, like say after a few margaritas, but it is SO NOT. We are fat, hairy people, and it just doesn't look good. Fortunately, this only took one lesson to really learn it.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Summers Eve
Do you ever get that not so fresh feeling? (Now picture a mom and daughter walking along the beach talking about their vaginal smells and dryness.) This is a skype talk I had to have with fellow bloggy buddies and apparently this happens to everyone. You are not alone. If you are less than fruity and fabulous down there, join the rest of us in a couple showers a day to clean it up. And if you have to wonder if it's your feet or your vag, just go ahead and jump in the the shower regardless. They both could use a little soap. It's fucking summer ladies and it is hot out. Things just won't be right for awhile.
Now on to a more serious topic (don't get me wrong, I take my vagina very seriously.) What in the fuck do I do with my kids for the rest of the summer? I realize this is a problem many would like to have but I can only take them swimming so often before I get wrinkles and/or cancer. Bugs and I made a list of things he'd like to do while he is out of school and some of them are great, but others are 60-100 dollar a day activities. Although I'd like to say that I can just do shit like that whenever, it is just not the case. I recently realized that I decided to be a stay at home mom so I actually CANNOT spend money whenever I want. It took me about a year to learn this lesson.
Speaking of spending money, did I mention that I'm about to pop out another kid soon? I have a decent sized car, but it is still going to be a little bit of a tight situation with 2 carseats and an 8 year old in the backseat. So we've been looking at SUV's and because of my SAHM status and the realization I cannot spend money, I am looking at 10 year old SUV's with lots of mileage. Don't get me wrong, I know I can still find a decent older vehicle for less money, but it still scares the shit out of me to buy an older car and have to worry about stuff breaking on it all the time. That's usually what you try to get rid of when buying a "new" vehicle. Stand by. Bugs might just have to squish for a year or two.
Now on to a more serious topic (don't get me wrong, I take my vagina very seriously.) What in the fuck do I do with my kids for the rest of the summer? I realize this is a problem many would like to have but I can only take them swimming so often before I get wrinkles and/or cancer. Bugs and I made a list of things he'd like to do while he is out of school and some of them are great, but others are 60-100 dollar a day activities. Although I'd like to say that I can just do shit like that whenever, it is just not the case. I recently realized that I decided to be a stay at home mom so I actually CANNOT spend money whenever I want. It took me about a year to learn this lesson.
Speaking of spending money, did I mention that I'm about to pop out another kid soon? I have a decent sized car, but it is still going to be a little bit of a tight situation with 2 carseats and an 8 year old in the backseat. So we've been looking at SUV's and because of my SAHM status and the realization I cannot spend money, I am looking at 10 year old SUV's with lots of mileage. Don't get me wrong, I know I can still find a decent older vehicle for less money, but it still scares the shit out of me to buy an older car and have to worry about stuff breaking on it all the time. That's usually what you try to get rid of when buying a "new" vehicle. Stand by. Bugs might just have to squish for a year or two.
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