One Perfect Mess

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There is a very good reason I haven’t been publishing my blog posts lately. That reason is my youngest child due in approximately 9 weeks. Initially I was all set to blog this pregnancy. Think of the memories! Then about halfway through I remembered fucking hell I hate being pregnant I don’t want to remember this. If I’d blogged my first pregnancy the Weebles would be an only child.

 

People that haven’t had children yet shouldn’t even be around  people like me when I’m pregnant. And the kicker is that I have totally blessed to have normal, complication free pregnancies. There isn’t a damn thing wrong with me except that I’m knocked up. No gestational diabetes, no preterm labor, no shots every day, no bed rest. Yet… somehow still *so* miserable. I have to constantly practice deep breathing to not lose my mind thinking about how many days are left. I am apparently horribly horrible at being uncomfortable. For starters, I’m huge. So huge that it hurts to wear clothes huge. When I stand up from sitting or lying down my entire frame has to readjust so I hobble for the first ten steps or so. If I don’t drink enough water then I have super uncomfortable BH contractions. But if I drink TOO much water that causes them too. And of course when you factor in the “size of a BOWLING BALL” (thanks for *that* description online pregnancy site) child parked on my bladder plus the 100+ ounces of water I drink a day you end up with having to get up *see above* to use the bathroom every ten minutes. Bonus points if the child kicks me just right as I’m rushing there.

 

 

The position of this child is different than my first two and it is making those “cute little kicks and flutters” feel more like he is carving his way out of prison with a rusty spoon. I will say though that several maladies that I have had issues with in the past have not been bothering me much lately and that is a blessing. The scar tissue on my side from my last pregnancy hasn’t been acting up like my midwife predicted it might. I had a really tough time with SPD during my second trimester but that has inexplicably seemed to taper off here at the end. And heartburn, which was the bane of my existence the first two times, hasn’t been an issue lately either. Then again, I still have a long way to go. There is nobody on the planet that welcomes labor more than I do. Pain meds? HA! I’m so damn thrilled to be winding up the 40 long weeks of feeling like crap that I am downright giddy to hurt like hell for a few hours. Then they hand me the little baby and I think… eh that wasn’t so bad. We could do that again?

Eh, I just have nothing to say. I still have a crying hangover from yesterday. Although right before bed I read Liz’s post and followed the link over to Hyperbole and a Half. I love H&1/2 but hadn’t seen this particular post. It made me laugh so hard I couldn’t breathe. This, EXACTLY. Not only has this happened to me hundreds of times but it is obvious I get this from my dad. In my mind I can picture dozens of times where he lost his shit over something nonsensical after a day of frustration. What I’m wondering now is, next time this happens will I start giggling and get over it? Or, is there no stopping the sneaky hate spiral?

This will be known as the great flea infestation of 2011. For a house for four cats, we have been lucky to escape without any real flea issues until now. I have no idea where they originally came from but I would surely like to turn back the clock and correct whatever happened. The vet assured us that fleas this year are a beast everywhere so I guess we shouldn’t feel singled out.

This has been going on now pretty much the entire summer. We spent several weeks where we’d vacuum daily and use a flea comb to comb out each cat every night. We’ve broken down and used that chemical mess you get at the vet monthly for the cats for the last several months. At one point it seemed like it was a *little* better. But alas we are in the middle of another outbreak and I am done. I sat in a dark bedroom looking at my laptop last night and I could see the little fuckers jumping around on the screen. So today I devoted to purging them from our bedroom. This will be our stronghold from which I hope to branch out and eventually conquer those little hopping assholes. I must have done twenty loads of laundry today. It if is made of fabric and can be shoved in my front loader, it has gone in. I’ve vacuumed, I’ve dusted, I’ve Frontlined the cats. I’ve put down borax on furniture. If this doesn’t work we’re going to either move to a hotel or burn down the house and rebuild. Really, I’m not picky which.

I read a blog today that got me thinking. It was about making your kids eat what you’ve made for dinner or go hungry. I see their point in that they want their children to try new things. I totally agree that trying things is important and even trying things you didn’t like before to see if maybe you’ve changed your minds. But I honestly don’t understand telling a child that we’re having X for dinner and you can eat it or eat nothing. I sure wouldn’t like it if someone did that to me. I can’t tell you how many nights my meal plan has indicated baked chicken and veggies for dinner and I blew it off and defrosted some homemade spaghetti sauce instead. Or, alternatively how many nights I have tried a new recipe that I ended up not caring for and having some cheese and crackers later on because I didn’t eat enough. It could well be that I’m totally messed up in how I view food. That wouldn’t surprise me at all actually. But I honestly think it is a fair point. I don’t like raw tomatoes and I don’t care how many times you put them in front of me I will never enjoy eating them. People like different things and have different tastes. Is it really so bad if one child hates broccoli? I don’t think so.  As long as they are willing to give it a try, having likes and dislikes doesn’t make them bad eaters. I hope.

I spent the morning in court and it has put me into the hole. I am so seriously depressed about society. There were 200 people in that court room today without any respect for anything. They acted like it was insane that they were actually expected to be there on time and despite being asked repeatedly not to talk during proceedings they would just not shut the fuck up. The conversations I overheard gave me a headache that I still have several hours later. It was like a regular old day at the office for some of them. Not the least bit concerned that they would be sentenced to a few weeks in jail for beating someone up or drinking and driving. No big deal. My 2 year old can sit still longer than most of them. They were up and down, in and out every five minutes. Smoking half a cigarette at a time. The entire room reeked and I felt like I was sitting in a petri dish full of germs with all the sniffling and sneezing and hacking up of lungs. To think that scene plays itself out five days a week in every county in this country makes me want to cry in frustration. Is it THAT hard to follow the rules? I like to have fun. There are plenty of ways to enjoy life that don’t involve breaking the law. It is so totally senseless. I’m left wanting to build a fort for my family in the middle of the woods and become recluses. Please somebody point me in the direction of my faith in humanity.

What is your favorite food?

Orange Juice

What is your favorite color?

All my colors.

What is your favorite toy?

Molly

Who is your favorite cat?

Eli

Who is your best friend at school?

All of my friends

What is your favorite thing to drink?

Apple juice and orange juice

What is your favorite dessert?

M&Ms

What is your favorite movie?

Nemo and trains

Favorite TV Show?

Wonder Pets and Kai Lan

Favorite book?

Five little pumpkins

Favorite thing you do with Mana?

Play trains and cars

Favorite thing you do with Cici?

Play with the blinds

Favorite thing you do with Granddaddy?

Play with trains

What is your favorite thing to do with Papa?

Watch trains on computer

What is your favorite thing to do with Daddy?

Play monster hide and seek

What is your favorite thing to do with Weebles?

Play with Molly in the tub

I’ve never been big on carrying purses. I really prefer to throw my debit card in my back pocket and be done with it. But, with kids I have found there are lots of little things that I find useful to have on hand. Today while waiting for a doctor’s appointment I decided to make a quick list of items I saw just glancing inside the small bag I had with me.

Diaper

Purelle

Two cans of play doh

M&M’s

Hair clip

Thomas

Ultrasound DVD

$11 in cash

Letter from DA’s office

Torn up pay stub

Burger King receipt

Hospital bill

4 pens

Ketchup

7 crayons

Finn McMissile

Three sets of keys

Popsicle stick

Mints

Chapstick

Stack of coupons

Benadryl

Two debit cards

Three lollipops

Driver’s License