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| I'm sitting here, less than 15 minutes before I need to leave for work, with only my bra and panties on because my clothes are still running through the damned clothes dryer. Doh! I talked to my 2 friends who've given birth in the past few weeks. One had already done a natural birth before, without drugs, and had an epidural this time. She said it was a lot more enjoyable for her. My second friend tried to go drug free for her second delivery. Her first was induced and she had gotten an epidural. She told me, "Melissa, I don't know how you were able to go through your entire labor and delivery with Ethan. I wasn't even dialated 5 cm and I thought I was going to die!" The only thing I can think of is that we all handle pain differently. To me, it's a temporary situation and I can manage to pull all of my strength into making it past that short moment. By the time that I came near the end of Ethan's delivery, I was tired and felt like I wasn't going to make it, but I did. We all handle pain differently. There isn't a right or wrong way to deal with it. It doesn't make one person more of a man or woman to suffer in ways they're not comfortable or capable. It did feel good that they both look up to me for being able to do it, though. I always feel like I'm in that girl box, where I'm never going to be good enough, thin enough, smart enough. This has helped me take a step out of that girl box. Not that I want my friends there, instead, but it was definitely a boost to my confidence. |
| It's coming close enough to that number that I'm going to have to start thinking about a new name and theme for my next blog. Do I want to stick with the criminal theme or do I want to take it in a new direction? Anyone have any suggestions? If you make a suggestion, I'll give you 100 GPs. If I use your suggestion, I'll give you a merit badge! I could use your suggestion as either a title or brief description, so that's 2 merit badges up for grabs! In other news, Jason and I fought like cats and dogs yesterday. He was an ass all morning, afternoon, and evening. The only break that I had from his foolishness was when we went to the park. It was a welcome retreat from the dank and cold evenings we've had the past couple of months. We took a walk down the trail and went to our favorite outlook point, about a half mile away from the playground. (We tend to take walks away from the playground when there's too many big kids running around with reckless abandon so as to prevent Ethan from getting run over.) As we walked down the dirt trail, Jason spotted a doe ahead on the dock. We snuck closer. The deer already knew we were there, so they started back towards the wooded area. We got to a position where we could see there were 4 deer. 3 doe and a yearling. Ethan finally saw them and shouted at the top of his lungs, "LOOK! MOMMY! DADDY! DEER! LOOK!" It was the most adorable thing! It made the deer dash off in a frenzy, as if to say, Oh my God, the kid saw us! RUN! lol We got closer to the creek and the overlook and saw 3 more deer, 2 doe and a yearling, across the creek from us, staring at us and trying to determine whether we were friend or foe. Ethan caught a glance of them and again screamed about it at the top of his lungs. As we stood looking at the water, a couple of ducks flew past. Then a couple of geese followed the ducks. Jason and I both pointed them out to Ethan, who started shouting "QUACK! QUACK!" or "HONK! HONK!" depending on what we were pointing out. I thought that by having some time to get out and finally do something as a family that didn't involve being indoors or watching tv would give us a chance to all unwind. I felt better after taking the walk, getting some fresh air, and watching Ethan play. By the time we left, it was 7 pm though and we hadn't eaten dinner yet. The entire drive home (all 10 minutes of it), Jason complained about being out too late and having to cook on the grill in the dark (it was still light out, by the way), and all of that. I was trying so hard at that point to stay positive and it just tore me down and down and down. When we got home, we discovered that our 2-gallon water jug developed a leak and there were about 2 gallons of water on our kitchen floor, in front of and under the refridgerator. That was all it took for Jason's mood to go from sour to impossible. The rest of the night, he did nothing but bitch and complain about one thing or another. Finally, I just stopped talking to him because he had a negative response to everything that I said. "The carpet will dry." "Well it won't do us any good to have dry carpet if our floorboards are rotted!" "It's only $1.30 worth of water. We can buy more." "I'm not the one going back to the store to buy it. YOU can do that." When we went to bed, I tried to talk to him about it. I didn't attack him. I just asked him if he would snuggle with me because I was feeling a little unloved at the moment. He then started attacking me and told me that he was tired of not being able to go fishing on the weekends and having the entire weekend planned for him and that I didn't let him go out on St. Patty's Day (which isn't true) and this and that and the other thing. I told him to make plans with his Dad to go fishing. I can't do that because the ice has melted and it's too cold yet for the boat. OK, well make plans with Joe. I can't, because you get pissed off when I get together with Joe because we drink. No, I don't get pissed off because you drink. I get pissed off because you say you're only going to have 1 beer and you have 7. Then I combated his St. Patty's Day comment. First of all, I never told him he couldn't go out. I told him that he could go out if he wanted, but since I couldn't drink when I went out with my friends last St. Patty's Day, he couldn't drink either. He took that as my saying he can't go out, because to him it's pointless to go out on St. Patty's Day if he can't drink. Well you know, I said, I'm trying to teach our son that it is possible to go out, have fun, and not have to drink a beer or twelve. Drinking beer relaxes him. When I tell him he can't have beer, I'm taking away his 'me time.' Uhm... I couldn't help but roll my eyes! Give me a break. If the only thing that relaxes you, other than fishing, is drinking beer, than it's time to explore some new hobbies. I told him so, too. Then I rolled over and went to sleep because we were just arguing in circles. When he woke me up this morning, I told him that I was going to ask his Mom if Ethan and I could stay with her for a couple of days so he could have his 'me time' and we wouldn't be around to bother him. I don't know if he was just PMSing yesterday, but he immediately backed up and started apologizing to me for the things he said and how he said them. So I guess things are OK for today. If he starts in with this crap again, though, I'm not going to hesitate to take a couple-day vacation from him. I don't have to put up with being treated like that and made to feel like crap all day because he's in a bad mood. The headache is still here today. I called my midwife. She told me to continue with the Aleve and seeing the chiropractor as he recommends and to discontinue the physical therapy for a week to see what happens. If I still have a persistant headache on Thursday, then I need to see her or my family doctor to see if there's something else that can be done. I'm so sick of feeling like crap outside. I'm doing everything I can to keep myself from feeling like crap inside. |
Before we head out to the park to enjoy some sunshine... here I am!    |
| I was in a good mood this morning, but it's gone now. Jason has had an asshole attitude all day and it's rubbed off on me, except instead of becoming an asshole, I'm in an A+, 100%, full-fledged bitch mode. And my target is this fucking house. I'm sick and tired of, no matter what closet or cabinet or drawer I look in, it's packed full of shit in some disorganized manner or another. I have organized every closet, drawer, and cabinet at least once in this house, most of them more, and it never fails that within days of my hard work, it is already undone. I mentioned this to Jason... it went something like this: Me: "Why is it that I've organized the linen closet 50 times so that it's easy to put towels and sheets away and now it looks like someone puked fabric in it?" Jason: "Well you aren't the one who washes and puts away the towels, are you?"  Me: "Why is it that I'm constantly resorting the rubbermade containers and lids and everytime I open it, I'm having to catch falling things?" Jason: "Well you aren't the one who puts away the clean dishes, are you?" Me: "What is it that my closet looks like a tornado ripped through it and left a mess of CD-Roms, computer cables, and shoes? How come you'll ask me where something is, I'll tell you, you'll go dig it out and not put stuff back where it goes?" Jason: "Well I can't get around your clothes that easy, and so I put it back where it fits." I'm tired of this shit! It doesn't matter who does the laundry or who puts it away. It should be put away right or not put away at all. It's fucking pointless because I then have to go back later, take it all out, and put it all back again. So I say to him: "If you can't put something away right, you might as well not put it away at all. It will save me the extra work of having to take it out and put it away again. Just leave it for me to put away when I get the chance." He replies, "It'll never get put away if I have to wait for you." I say, "If that's the case, then how come I'm always getting rid of the clothes I don't want anymore and you still have shit in your closet from 5 years ago that you haven't worn?" He replies, "I don't have time to go through my closet." Bullshit. If he has time to put shit away wrong, he has time to pull things he doesn't want anymore out of his closet when he bitches to me that it's too full or he doesn't have any empty hangers. If I don't have an empty hanger or I can't fit something in, that means I need to take something out, and that's what I do. Then he tells me to stop bitching at him because he's tired of hearing it over and over again. Well motherfucker, if you did it right in the first fucking place, I wouldn't have to fucking bitch about it, would I? My attitude started because he was telling me that Britney Spears claims that she may have been raped by her bodyguards while she was drunk. I said that those were some serious allegations, but that they shouldn't be discounted because they could be true. He says to me, a woman that he loves who is a victim of sexual abuse: "Well she shouldn't be out getting drunk so much and going to clubs without panties, anyway." ......................................... (me being shocked that he could say something like that) "Are you saying that she invited it and thus deserved it?" "No, that's not what I'm saying." "That's what it sounds like to me. It doesn't matter if she walked down Sunset Strip nude. As far as I'm concerned, nobody deserves to be raped." "Stop turning my words around and making them what they're not." I'm thinking I'm just not going to talk to him for the rest of the night because everything that he has said from the point of Britney Spears walking around without panties has pissed me off. Basically, he can't say anything right today and he may end up with my foot up his ass. And what really has me pissed off is that I'm tired of having to clean up after a mess that is shoved anyplace it can go where nobody can see it. If people would just put shit away right and not just throw it in a space, any space, I would actually have time to put away the towels, my clothes, the dishes, the food. I'm just so sick of it right now that I don't even feel like bothering anymore. |
| I am now an official Girls on the Run of Greater Kalamazoo certified coach. I completed training successfully and now know and understand the philosophy of Girls on the Run, which is an awesome program to teach girls how to love themselves, no matter their shape or size, because of their inner strength and determination. My co-coach and I start practice with our girls on Tuesday and I'm kind of nervous about that. We're splitting lessons, where she takes one one day and I take one the next. Except that I guess it's the other way around because I'm teaching the first lesson, which really isn't anything more than the girls getting to know each other, if they don't already. I'm a little intimidated about the girls, though. 12 girls ranging from 3rd to 5th grades, and in a school that is notorious for having some really tough attitudes. There's one girl that's on one of the other teams that's in the 4th or 5th grade that even the 6th grade boys are afraid of, so I'm not sure what to expect. Will they be excited? Will they have an attitude the whole time? Will they be smart alecs and little divas who think they're too good to do the fun activities? Will they like running or exercising in general? Will they hate it with a passion? I'm just worried about them not liking me, I guess. lol. I don't expect all of them to be 4' tall attitudes, but I'm sure we'll have one or two on the team. I've never had to deal with a pre-adolescent girl before. This is definitely going to be something new. |
| I have a constant headache because I have a pinched nerve in my neck that is not letting go. I'm stopping physical therapy because it makes it worse and am trying to prevent from having to see a neurologist. My midwife has me on Aleve all weekend to see if that helps some with the pain, and it does. Sort of. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to my Girls on the Run training, where I will not be able to lift my right arm above shoulder level because it triggers the headaches. Try brushing your hair in the morning with that ailment. lol |
| I went to the chiropractor's yesterday and bawled to him. lol. I just needed to vent to someone who would listen and not try to tell me what I needed to do or tell me that things just seem worse because I'm pregnant and to go take a hot bath or something. I know things aren't as bad as they feel and that the hormones don't help, but they are still valid feelings regardless of how urgent someone else might view them. First of all, the car accident. I've had a headache ever since that night. It comes and goes, but it's always in the same location and, when it's gone, it usually comes back in the middle of the night and I can't sleep because it hurts so bad. I've tried changing pillows, changing positions, getting up and taking a hot bath, but it all comes down to me not getting the sleep that I need. And that stresses me out because I have too much to do to be tired like that. Secondly, Ethan being sick. Not only was I losing sleep because of the headaches, and vomitting because I was so stressed out and worried, and because my headaches made me nauseated, but I lost a lot of sleep because he wasn't sleeping. He's still trying to get his sleep schedule back on track, and that's been a struggle, to say the least. Then Jason got sick. Not only am I having to take care of a sick 2-year-old, but also a sick 30-year-old, with headaches, with little sleep, while vomitting and nauseated. Could life please stop piling stuff on top of me? I had to take my minivan in on Monday to get the repairs done. Luckily for me, we chose an awesome body shop and everything is already done. They're taking it over for the transmission work and brake inspection and it should be done today. Hallelujah, praise the Lord! Do you know how hard it is for me to get in and out of my 2-door Cavalier? How about while 5 months pregnant? How about trying to put a 2-year-old in a car seat in the back seat? How about that while 5 months pregnant? It's been making my back hurt, so I try not to go anywhere with Ethan unless Jason is going, too, so he can put Ethan in. I can't wait to get my van back. While all that is going on, my dogs got into a fight again on Tuesday. My sister, Cassandra, came over to clean my bathroom for me (I can't handle all of the chemical smells and I'm a clean freak about my bathroom). The dogs both know her. Streak jumped up to bark at her out the window. Storm jumped up next to Streak to see what Streak was barking at. Streak attacked Storm. Ethan was standing near them, so my mother-in-law grabbed both Streak and Storm to pull them apart. Streak turned and bit my MIL, and it is more than just a superficial bite. That, of course, freaked me out when I came home from working a full day to find my MIL with a bandaged arm and the dogs separated. Storm had to go in to have a growth on his leg removed that night, so we weren't too worried about the next 24 hours, but there is just no way that we can keep a dog who has agressive tendencies towards other male dogs (and now humans) with two young children. It is not a safe situation and if we were to keep him and something else happen, it wouldn't be Streak's fault. It would be ours. Lucky for us, my MIL didn't hold the bite against Streak. She knew that was a chance she would take by getting in the middle of two dogs fighting, but she couldn't let them continue to go at it and chance that her grandson become a victim of a dog bite. So Streak is now living with her for a 2-week trial to see if the aggressive tendencies are just because he tries to Alpha-male Storm when Jason and I are gone. (We've done the behavior training, we do the calm-assertive thing, but neither of the dogs respect that when my MIL is there, even though she does the calm-assertive thing, too.) Next, my ultrasound. I had to get up at 6:30 in the morning to start drinking the liquids to fill my bladder. I threw everything up that I had drank at 7:15, and my appointment was at 8. I ate some cereal and tried to drink some more fluids, but by the time I got to my appointment, my bladder still wasn't full enough. It made the ultrasound longer, which caused me to be on my back too long, which caused me to get more nauseated, which caused the procedure to be even longer, etc, etc, etc. It was really frustrating, then you add the headache that had been there, at that point, for 2 days, and I was ready to tell them to screw it and stop. Before I found out I'm having a boy, they determined that I still have the ovarian cyst, which further irritated my emotional state. I was happy to hear that I am having a boy, but I felt so horrible that nobody thought I was happy. So then I had to deal with that. By the time I got to work, I just wanted to shut myself in a room in the dark and cry for an hour. CC and Jon could tell something was wrong, asked me what was wrong, and of course since I was already on the brink, it made me cry, which made them awww and oogle over me, which made me cry more, and I ended up bawling for like 10 minutes where I just wanted to work. I came home with a pounding headache. I tried to sleep but couldn't get comfortable. I took a hot bath and still couldn't get the headache to budge. I went to the chiropractor. He told me I looked like I felt horrible, I started bawling in his office, and I told him pretty much this entry. He gave me a hug, I told him that I knew that things weren't really that bad but I'd taken about all I can take. He told me that regardless of whether or not someone else thinks that the problems aren't bad, they are to me and that's all that matters. Then he told me to get some time to myself so I could regain some of my composure and lose some of the stress. So after my appointment, I went baby clothes shopping. I bought a take-home outfit for the baby at Baby Gap (it is SO cute), some Gap onesies, some shoes, some socks, a little beanie hat, and a hat to match the shoes (they go with the take-home outfit). I walked past a shoe store in the mall and saw the most awesome pair of shoes. Not that I really -need- a pair of shoes right now, but these are slip on Sketchers and really very pretty. So I tried on a pair and bought them. Take-home outfit: $53.50 on Old Navy Card Gap t-shirt to take home and hear Ethan say "red turtle": $14.50 on Old Navy Card New shoes: $50.00 on MasterCard Coming home to feel tons better because I got some me time: Priceless I still have the headache, but Ethan is saying, "baby brother," while pointing to my belly. My car is getting out of the shop today. Streak has most likely found a home where he will continue to live the good life. I'm having a beautiful baby boy who is healthy and right on target with his due date. The house is on the mend, illness wise. Things are working themselves out, one at a time. Guess what? I'm still sane. Sort of. Sanity is an objectionable term. I'll get some sleep and feel better eventually. Life and routine will fall back into place. And I will get back to work now. Thanks to everyone for their support, words of encouragement, jokes, and congratulatory comments in the previous entry.  |
| We had the ultrasound today. I know what I'm having. We'll just say that I'm not coming right out to say it, but we're not naming our child Isabelle Cadence. I like the boy's name we picked out, but I'm not overly excited about it. I am excited that we're having another boy. There's just a lot of up and down emotion today because we're going to have to get rid of one of our dogs and so any happiness I would normally feel towards the baby is kind of overshadowed because I'm depressed about Streak. I don't really want to get into it right now, otherwise I'll end up bawling again at my desk. It also doesn't help that I've felt nauseated all day. I know part of it is that I need to eat something, but nothing sounds appetizing. I'm just close to having an emotional breakdown because of everything that has been going on the last few weeks. First, the car accident, the Ethan getting sick, and then Jason getting sick, and now this thing with Streak. Things have been tough, but I know they'll get better. I only have to hold my head up a little while longer and then the going will get easier. To believe anything else would not be who I am. |
| A lot of people say the time change screws them up. You have no idea, let me tell you. I was already going to bed at 8 p.m. most of the week, so instead I've been going to bed at 9. I actually like that portion, just because it gives me an additional hour where I did not have one before. My problem has been with waking up. Since my morning sickness started way back in December, I had figured out that if I woke up before 7 a.m. and moved around at all, then I get sick. And this, my friends, is where things have gotten hairy for me this week. Even though the time-clock says 7 a.m., my pregnancy-clock still says 6 a.m. Thus, getting up at 7 a.m. is no longer my safe haven from morning throw up. There's not much I can really do about it, since I have to be to work at 8, but I thought I had the right to complain anyhow. Jason's got the illness, which is just great for me. I mean, it's not great for him, but it's really horrible because we're still trying to get Ethan back to sleeping in his bed 100% of the time, eating 100% of his diet, feeling 100% better. Once he feels 100%, then I'll be back to 100% and the rest of the house will be fruitful and peaceful once again. I have to work a full day today, which I'm both looking forward to and dreading. Looking forward to because I get out of the house for the day, dreading because I'll be exhausted by the time I get home and have to take care of two sickheads. At least I'm lucky enough to only have to do the full days for another week or two. They're offering the last girl they interviewed the secretarial position, which will give me a huge, huge, huge break on the office work. I'll be able to go back to collecting data on my normal 20-hour schedule. Yay! |
| I think all of everything from last week has finally hit me and I am exhausted. Now Jason is complaining that he doesn't feel well, is achy and nauseated. I told him he's not allowed to get sick. He has to give me a chance to recover from going about 36 hours without sleep and additionally not getting enough to eat for a couple of days while I spent the time taking care of my son, instead. How is it that he got the sleep, he got to eat, he doesn't have a lowered immune system, and he's the one that gets sick? Just when am I going to have a chance to recover from all of the stress and lack of sleep and spending exactly 0 seconds on myself? Bah. Sometimes being somebody's mother really has its disadvantages. Sure, you get a lifetime's supply of hugs and kisses and adoring smiles, but you also get a lifetime of sleepless nights and worry. The hugs, kisses, and smiles are well worth the sleeplessness and worry, but sometimes enough is enough! Hopefully, Jason and I will both get a good night's sleep tonight and we'll both feel better. I don't know if I can go much longer with all of this sickness in my house. I might have to check myself into a hotel to keep myself under quarantine and ensure that they don't get me sick, too! One can wish, right? |
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