Ninapintasantamaria's Blog

{April 30, 2009}   Oh, no.

My search terms today included the phrase “Hubby wants his friend to get me pregnant.”  Why, so he can watch?  And another thing.  Did I ever post about such a subject?  I think not.  My husband has a friend that wants to get me pregnant, but he’s a pig, and a flirt, and that’s just gross.  I laughed at him when he tried to hit on me.  What a moron.  Totally barking up the wrong tree.  I’ve told my hubby about it, and he said that he wasn’t going to do anything about it cause I was more than capable of handling things myself.  And he wanted to watch what happened.  He would be correct.  I am more than capable of handling him myself.  Anyway, I digress.  I really don’t think I’ve ever mentioned such a subject here.  Or anywhere, for that matter.  How funny.  Poor girl.  I hope she slapped her husband.  He deserved it.           Next subject.  My scans are in 2 weeks, and I’m terrified.  I’m also obsessive-compulsive and a worry-wart, and completely un-justified in my terror.  Please someone slap me before I lose my mind.  Thank you.

Ungrateful, willful, and disrespectful, I plan to remind him/her/it of just how much I hate to puke. And I plan to keep a tally. Oh yes, I do. It hit this afternoon. I really hate this feeling, but I have no one to blame but myself. (The husband? Yeah, the husband! I’m not at fault at all! It’s his fault!) Oh, and could you stop the gas pains, please? It’s freaking me out. I’m already scared to death I’m gonna have a “We do not speak its name” moment. I don’t need any encouragement. At all. Ever. I promise. I will show so much concern, you’ll have to tell me to stop, there, Little Bit. Don’t worry, you will not be ignored or neglected.  I plan to make you just as obsessive-compulsive as I am.  Because, of course, I’m perfect.   It’s the rest of the world that has a problem.  Yes, that is what gets me through the night, now you mention it.

{April 27, 2009}   Ok, this is it.

I just wanted to wait till I actually had it confirmed at the MD’s, but I’m 5 weeks and 5 days pregnant, due 12/24!!!  I’m excited and nervous at the same time.  I’ve known my doctor and her staff for forever, and when I called, I told them I’d flunked “a couple” of tests this week.  She asked me how many positives I’d gotten and I told her I was embarrassed to tell her 8.  (Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.  It was overkill.  I just didn’t want to go in there and have it be really negative, like last time.  We didn’t use that brand of pee-stick again, believe you me. *coughKrogerBrandcough*)  They just drew blood today, and have scheduled me for my u/s May 12.  After that, she said we’d hear the heartbeat, then pay a visit to the perinatologist for a precursory scan.  She said it was mostly for my benefit, so I really will believe everything’s normal.  Yeah.  We know that won’t happen.  It’s my baby.  I’m seriously doubting it’ll be normal, but hopefully everything will develop normally, anyway.

{April 24, 2009}   Hmmm.

Well, there only seems to be a few people who want my password.  If you’re curious, email me.  It’s in the ‘Contact Me’ page.  I’m not fishing, I just don’t want to alert the media yet, so I’m passwording.  Umm, I will say I’m having an excellent day?

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{April 20, 2009}   I’d like it noted…

I just raked a bunch of leaves off the fencerow in my yard, cleaned them out from behind the new trellises, and planted  climbing roses and  lilac bushes, all by myself!  I sound like I’m 2, don’t I.  Look Mommy!  All by myself!  *sighs*  I’d been waiting on my husband to have some free time to help me, but HAH!  I didn’t need his stinky old help anyways!  And the creepy old neighbor that I think is experiencing Alzheimer’s came over and offered to help me move the logs from in front of my fence.  That was the strangest thing.  Whatever.  I never expected to talk to him again after my husband told him not to ever approach me again.  He was standing on my rock wall, holding a shovel, Jason-style, screaming at me for God’s sake!  What else is a husband for, if not to take care of creepy old neighbors with no manners?  Honestly, I’m surprised he ever even thought about talking to me again.  Like I said, though, he may not remember the incident.  Course, he may not remember telling me I could borrow his lawn mower trailer, either.  I think I’ll just wait for the landscape crew to get the logs out of the way.  It felt good just to get out and do something in the yard.  I like being in the sun, and I like growing things.  I’ve been talking to my husband about backing off at work some, after we get some things paid off.  I talked to my supervisors today, and told them I’d like to be considered for the prn position that’s coming available soon.  I think that with everything else going on, I really need to de-stress and try to calm down for awhile.  I got on-line this morning and looked up irregular periods, spotting and late.  Stress, (yeah, I don’t have any of that) weight loss, (hmm…let’s see, is 30 pounds in 6 months considered extreme?), no exercise, (dirty word) pcos (half the family has it, but they’re overweight, insulin resistant, and fuzzy in places they shouldn’t be; in other words classic cases), and shitty diet (are pasta and sour gummy worms a food group?) can all cause irregular periods, spotting, and lateness.  Pregnancy can, too, of course, but we’re not discussing that, thank you very much.  Why me?  *sighs*  This isn’t the first, nor will it likely be the last, time I’ve baffled medical science.  Nothing about me is normal.  What did I expect?

{April 20, 2009}   Still nothing.

Yep.  I.  HATE.  MY.  UTERUS!  I hate my ovaries, I hate my cervix, I hate my breasts, I hate everything that makes me female right now.  Except for my tootie, it does sometimes have it’s good points.  😉     Anyway, finally got the YCU to see reason with the furniture.  Exchanged the ottoman for a smaller one, put the chair in the corner where it belongs, and ordered new end-tables.  Of course, it took a friend telling him the very same damn thing I told him, which made everyone present howl with laughter, except, of course, the YCU.  Heh.  I think that means……(Ooh!  Ooh!  Let me tell it!)  I.  Was.  RIGHT!  Which I usually am, of course, but no one seems to want to admit that until I either make them look like a jackass, or get really, really loud and embarrass them in front of their friends.  I haven’t found the magic button that makes them listen to reason in a calm and open-minded manner, yet.  I can’t seem to get past stubborn, pig-headed, and childish.  *sighs*  After he heard from the friend and the friend had the same idea I had, he let it sit for a day in the “Makes No Sense” pattern, and then told me to go ahead and move the chair, he wanted to prop up on the ottoman.  I’m not kidding.  AAAAARRRRRRSSEEEE!  Why must he be so difficult?  Why can’t he just see what I’m trying to tell him without the stubborn idiocy that seems to accompany him everywhere?  I sort of understand, because his foot was broken, but I strongly suspect that he’s only playing that card when he wants to get out of doing something.  I’m so tired of him acting like this.  What an ass.  Stubborn, pig-headed, childish, obnoxious, self-absorbed, childish ass.  And the bitch of the whole thing is that he thinks I’m crazy.  I think he’s manipulative in his own right sometimes.  I tend to make decisions and come to conclusions in seconds, whereas it takes him forever to decide anything.  He’s one of these people who has to study on it.  Even after I’ve already shown him where he’s going to end up.  I’ve learned that he doesn’t want me to show him, he wants to figure it out on his own, or he gets very grouchy.  Ok, so I offer suggestions to help get him there faster and still make him think he’s figuring it out on his own.  You know, “The man is the head of the house, but the woman is the neck.  And the neck can turn the head, any way it wants.”  Yeah.  My neck is suffering from cervical radiculopathy.  (Quite literally a pain in the neck.)  I’m trying to turn the head where it should go, but the head is insisting it’s right and won’t listen to reason!  I have no patience with this.  Don’t be an ass, see reason, and admit to someone else having an intelligent thought for once, and your life that you complain about all the time wouldn’t be so hard.  I’ve always had trouble understanding that.  I realize I’m opinionated and sometimes people just don’t care.  Fine.  But when I’m opinionated and right, can’t you just concede the point?  Why do I have to get frustrated and cry and get my feelings hurt when I’m right, you should have done fill in the blank, and listened to me?  I’ve never been one of those girls that acted dumb to get a boy’s attention.  I’ve also never been one to keep my mouth shut when the boy acted dumb.  Apparently, this makes me bitchy and hard to live with.  There’s usually a lot of eye-rolling involved, until someone figures out that they’ve wasted a lot of time, and if  they’d just listened to me in the first place, we wouldn’t have shaved an hour off our lives for no reason.  This caused me no end of irritation in high school, cause I didn’t have very many boyfriends.  I scared them off, so I was told.  I’ve been told so many times that that’s just men, and we just have to get used to it.  Why?  I don’t want to be alone, and I love my husband very much, don’t misunderstand me.  There’s a lot of things I can’t do by myself.  Nor do I want to try.  I just don’t understand why I’m the one who gets ignored, then has to deal with the irritation and anger when their “brilliant idea” didn’t work, and they had to resort to mine anyway.  I can’t help but point out that if they’d listen to me next time, (or at least consider my idea, and if it won’t work, have a good explanation as to why) we’d save time, and not argue, and (oh my!) learn from the situation so it doesn’t happen again, but it keeps happening, and keeps happening, and keeps….lather, rinse, repeat.  I even try to explain that I just don’t want it to happen again.  I get completely ignored this time, as his quota for “helping” him is up.  I just can’t stand to watch someone struggle with something that could so easily be fixed, except that they’re too stubborn and proud to accept help from a girl.  A “thank you, I should have listened to you in the first place” would be nice once in a while.  A team has no place for an ego problem, folks.  I just don’t get it.

{April 18, 2009}   My Ute has taken over my body.

No, I didn’t just acquire a beautiful Indian Hunk.  I meant the ornery bastard that lives just above my tootie.  I just burst into tears after reading a post on Lost and Found.  I don’t know how to link things, but if you click that link on my blogroll, scroll down to Kirtsy’s Pick of the Day.  It described my feelings exactly.  I can’t walk into Babys R Us.  I can’t stand to listen to other people talk about their kids/babies.  Every time I see a stroller, I have to look away.  I have to force myself to go to my brother’s house to see my nephew.  I’m sobbing right now.  I just had to jump up and run to the bedroom so my husband’s friends wouldn’t see me crying.  They’ve already seen me righteously pissed off today, and if they see any more emotion, I’m afraid they’ll offer my husband to come live with them.  At least until the demons have been exorcised from my body.  He’d probably take them up on it.  I want the cute socks, and the beautiful crib, and the ribbons and the decorated nursery.  I want the carseat, and the toys and the teeth marks on the furniture.  (I figure it won’t be new anymore by the time I may ever have a baby.)   I even want the spit-up and the nasty poo pants.  Ok, maybe that’s going too far.  But I don’t think I’d complain, at any rate.  I have to deep-breathe and blink each and every time I hold my nephew.  I love him, but I don’t just want to be “Aunt Nina.”  I hate family gatherings now because everyone’s watching to see how I’ll react to him.  Yes.  Everyone.  I understand the concern, but I really wish I could just see my grandparents during the week when it’s just me, not with 50 other people present.  I’ve had to send baby gifts with my grandmother, or give the gift before the shower cause I couldn’t make myself go.  It hurts so much to have to give one of my blankets away.  Which is stupid, cause that’s why I make them, but every time I finish one, I’m hoping to have a reason to keep it.  This feels so selfish.  I used to enjoy giving people the baby blankets I made for them.  Now, I can’t bear to see their excitement.  I want to give without the coveting, like I was taught as a kid, but it’s gotten so hard.  The last one, I broke down and ran from her (the mom-to-be) after shoving the sack in her hand.  Yeah.  I really felt mature and adult-like then.  Can you hear the sarcasm?  She found me, and understood, luckily, but I don’t want that to happen again.  I really want to just be able to cry about something happy for once.  I haven’t been happy in so long, I don’t even remember what that feels like.  Not my marriage, I didn’t mean that, I just meant on the inside.  People can wish me well all they want, but it’s not gonna get me pregnant any faster.  It hurts so much.

{April 18, 2009}   *sighs*

I’m falling victim to the monthly anger/bitterfest.  Not only am I not pregnant, I am not dealing well with taking crap from anyone.  I’m really bad at taking shit from people on a regular basis, but this borders on scary.  I take shit all day long at work, then when I come home, my husband thinks it’s funny to bait me and give me stupid answers instead of straight ones.  I don’t have time for that shit!  It absolutely sends me into orbit.  Oh, and there’s people in my house all the time.  I hate people being in my house all the time.  I want to come home and veg out, and relax, and I can’t because I can’t watch what I want on tv, or talk to my husband about whatever, because I don’t want all his unclean, un-housebroken friends to know all our business.  Apparently, he doesn’t care if they know it, cause he was baiting me today because he thought I wouldn’t make a scene with them there.  I did.  And I didn’t care.  If he’s gonna have these people in the house all the time, I’m not gonna hold it in anymore.  I hate the way he’s laid out the new furniture, it looks stupid, there’s no flow to the room, and he insists that all the chairs be facing the tv.  Well, that’s fine, except to do that, you have to have the furniture at funny angles, and walk around everything.  He’s dug his stubborn-ass heels in and won’t listen to me that the way we had the furniture laid out before was the only way to set it up in this room and make it look nice.  He then had this bright idea to block off the front door and hang a curtain over it.  WTF? Who does that?  It’s one thing if you have french doors or something on the back of the house and you have other exits, but the front door?  Not to mention how tacky it looks when a door is blocked by furniture.  It’d look like the damn trailer park!  I want the room to look nice, fuck the tv!  If people come over and everyone wants to watch tv, we can move the chair then!  But otherwise, leave it where it was!  His friends all live in their parents’ basements, or have bachelor pad with one tiny tv their parents gave them when they moved out, and an electrical wire spool for a coffee table, so they all like to come to our house cause it’s clean, we have beer, a big tv, and there’s always toilet paper on the roll.  I hate that.  BYOB, dammit, and my house is not the local hangout.  They have bars for that.  Oh yeah.  The Ute is being ornery again.  Crimson sunsets are scarce, it seems.  I’m so burnt out.  I can’t wait for vacation.  I plan to drink strawberry Bacardis and ignore my husband.

{April 15, 2009}   test

Hubby posted this pic of my new flowerbed!  I can now post pics!  See who can spot the ugly shrub and fence!  And don’t worry.  You’ve not lost your way.  I decided this was wayyyy more me.


et cetera