Ninapintasantamaria's Blog











{February 11, 2012}   Hi, remember me?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!…Oh, wait, I missed it. Well, I’ve been busy, ok? What? Anyway, Sabrina’s rolling over now, and discovering her feet, Fletcher’s been panhandling in church (more on that later!), and learning to jump and do headstands! I’m having visions of stitches and blood in my future…wait, that could just be Monday. *sigh* No news yet on the department transfer at work, but now it’s looking unlikely to happen for at least 6 months. *sigh* The hours between 4 and 6pm have become the Witching Hour around here. Nobody’s happy, everybody screams, guess they’ll go eat worms…! YCU hurt his back last week, so that’s been fun. Now he’s convinced he’s old and breaking down. He’s 36. I know. I can’t convince him any different. Bless his heart.

So, Fletcher. What can I say about Fletcher? He’s a little hambone, but we knew that already. I walked into the new(ish) babysitter’s house one day to find Fletcher and his little friend Liam both sitting in the bad chair across the room from each other. When I asked what happened, she told me that she’d told them to pick up their toys and they simultaneously threw something at her! He’s learned to hit and throw things when he’s angry now, (I can only assume from the other little boy, we do our best to behave ourselves in front of the offspring) so we’re trying to break that bad habit. So, panhandling. Yeah, my son could make a killing on the side of the road, I tell ya. We went to Sunday School this week and they have a little collection jar there that the kids put their SS offering in every week. They love to hear the coins jingle. Fletcher loves that thing. I can give him 6 pennies and that jar, and he’ll stay occupied all through SS. Yes, I know he’s supposed to be paying attention, but he’s 2. It’ll come in time, right? Anyway, we got there early, and he grabbed the jar first thing. We went upstairs to the devotional and as I was greeting some fellow churchgoers, I looked up and danged if every one of those old men in the Amen Corner wasn’t cleaning out their pockets, giving him change! I’m pretty sure my face went white as I squeaked “My son is panhandling at church!” His teacher said she’d start a collection for the snacks and just let him head the committee. I have new pictures! Look!

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{December 2, 2011}   Well, I was all excited…

and, as usual, it was too good to be true. Tennessee has breastfeeding laws, and I was all excited thinking I could go pump whenever I needed to, and that my employer was required to let me go. Not really. I’m so upset. It says they have to let us have unpaid breaks, but only if it doesn’t disrupt business as usual. So they really don’t have to, because anytime you take a break as an OR nurse, you’re interrupting business as usual because they have to relieve you in a room, or the patient might roll to the room later, etc. Why even make a law if they can’t be more decisive than that? So now, I’m back to square one, trying to finagle time during a busy day without being dependent on my employers to provide it. What happens is I get stuck in a room with no relief, full to bursting, and I just have to suffer because they keep effing firing everybody and they have no help, and the charge nurse won’t come relieve you for a few minutes because they’re too busy “managing”. I need more control than that. I need a job where it’s not imperative that I be stuck and dependent on someone else’s good graces to take care of bodily functions.

I’ve decided to transfer up to the ICU and eventually go to school to become a CRNA. I hate school with a hairy passion, but I hate my job right now worse. I was dreading going back to work, I’m not focused, and I don’t want to be there. I have to force myself to get up and gird my loins for work every morning. You spend waaaaaay too much time at work to be unhappy,in my opinion, so it’s time to do something new.

In other news, Fletcher’s beginning to realize that Sabrina’s not going away. He is not amused. Alas. I have new pictures. My offspring:

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{October 21, 2011}   What I’d like to do…

and what I actually did were at war with each other, but it worked, for now. Yes, folks, I’ve had another run-in with the crazy neighbor. He tried to call the codes/restriction department for the city and get us fined for working on a car outside the garage (to the side of the house). We got the letter while I was in the hospital, and initially, I wanted to run out of there in my backless gown and whoop his ass. Personally. Yeah, it was the dope talking, I know. However, after I calmed down, I wanted to go to the H.ustler Hollywood store, buy a footlong d.ildo, and wrap it up with a ribbon and a note:

Dear STUPID NEIGHBOR, You are cordially invited to go f.uck yourself. Here’s a little gift to get the party started! Love, Nina and YCU.

So, maybe it wasn’t the dope talking, but I digress. Anyway, the letter stated that we had to work on the car on gravel/pavement that wasn’t a sidewalk (the whole sideyard is gravel), and it had to be enclosed on 3 sides ( let’s see…rock wall, rock wall, house, check!) and the car couldn’t be unregistered (well, I’m pretty sure that stickers on the license plate that say 2011 aren’t out of date yet, buy who am I to make that call?). Does all this sound stupid to anyone else? My husband confronted the guy and was informed that Stupid Neighbor and our other 2 adjoining neighbors had had a meeting about us and that no one wanted to live around us because we were so trashy. WAIT A MINUTE. HOLD THE PHONE. Just who the HELL you callin’ trashy? How dare he? I’m sorry, but he didn’t have any meeting, cause the other two neighbors wave at us when they see us and ask about the kids. Sorry, jackass, you’re nothing but a controlling, bullying, hypocritical person of suspect parentage, and you don’t get to threaten us. If I want to paint my house orange with purple polka dots, it’s MINE, motherfu.cker!! Anyway, so Monday, when he was mowing our grass (at 8am, no less), I marched out there in my bathrobe and bare feet and ordered him off our property. I also threatened to have him arrested for trespassing if he ever showed up over here again. He started spouting codes and policies, to which I responded: “We’re not in violation yet, so you can leave. NOW!” He then started spouting how Jesus loves me and God will take care of my family…whatever. I informed him he was a hypocritical bastard and gave him the “You’re #1” sign, then walked back in the house. Haven’t laid eyes on him since, but…you know we will again. He apparently has Alzheimer’s where we’re concerned. My next move is to call the police and tell them he’s been peeping in my windows. Which he technically has, since he takes it on himself to push our trashcans up from the road each week and he has to look right in the windows behind the cans…But that’s only if he shows up again.

I leave you with this:

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He seems to be adjusting well.



If I say so myself!

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ostensibly to attend some car show, but now he’s mad because all his friends that were gonna go with him “flaked out” to have babies, or take care of babies, or worry over their crazy wives having contractions. Bless his heart. So now, since he can’t do what he wanted, he’s just not gonna do anything. There’s a hundred things I would loooooooooove to get out of the house and do with him, and I can’t get him off the couch! I’m soooooo frustrated. And bored! I’m tired of sitting around this house waiting for him to decide to do something.



{July 12, 2011}   All’s quiet…

so far. Fletcher’s learned how to blow kisses, but he holds his hand up to my mouth instead of his own. *sigh* It’s still cute, what can I say? Sabrina’s still butt down, as far as I know, hopefully not to stay, but that would be my luck. I’m just tired all the time, but that’s ok. I’ll make it. So the SIL had her baby this week…at home. It was an unplanned home birth. Yeah, I’ve been trying for 2 days to wrap my head around my computer nerd brother who probably doesn’t know how to do CPR delivering this baby in their bed, but I’m drawing a blank. When I asked him about it today, he said that Little Burrito was out before he could even get to the phone after her water broke, and that he didn’t have to do much at all. Mom and baby are ok, came home from the hospital today, and doing fine! Never a dull moment with this crew! My GTT came out fine, Sabrina’s echo was declared “unsuspicious”, and all’s well…for now. Oh, Fletcher got his daddy good! YCU was giving him a bath while I ran to the grocery store. I wasn’t gone 45 minutes, and apparently, complete hilarity ensued. When I returned, YCU was glaring at me. What? I said. “Fletcher shit in the tub.” Ok, I answered. Evidently, there were undigested raisins in said poop, and Fletcher, in all his infinite wisdom, thought to himself “I made food!! I’m magical!” and tried to scoop up the raisins. YCU got to him just in time, but being naked, Fletcher immediately responded by peeing on YCU! Yeah, I wish you could have seen YCU’s face, I laughed so hard I had tears rolling down my face and was holding my belly whilst laying on the bed. So now, YCU has declared baby baths a verboten activity if it involves himself, and refuses to assist in any way, for fear of being excremented upon. It was glorious, I couldn’t have gotten better if I trained Fletcher myself!



{June 24, 2011}   It’s been awhile.

I’ve not disappeared, I’m just boringly living, working, and baby wrangling. Oh, and growing. Out. Way out. My arms are getting shorter by the day! I have an echo (u/s?) on Monday, because I’ve been taking Wellbu.trin throughout my pregnancy and even though they weren’t in the least concerned with Fletcher, they’ve decided Sabrina could be at risk. So, off I go to the perinatologist once again. She’s moving allllllll the time now. Oh, I held another baby at church on Sunday, and Fletcher was Not Pleased. He warned me in no uncertain terms that I better not get too attached to that thing cause it was in HIS spot, and he was not having it. After I handed her off, he walked away to go play again. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that his world’s about to be rocked. Bless his wittle heart. I’m feeling much better now, at 24 weeks. Got the heartburn under control, not so pukey, and have a little bit of energy. YCU mentioned having a 3rd baby the other day. Hmmmmm….I’ll get back to you on that.



{May 15, 2011}   Presenting…ME!!!

Hi, all! Fletcher here! I got new soohs, and I can climb! I’m a very big boy. I also can give kisses (which I find to be Very Funny), and hi fives!! I don’t like Eating Out anymore. Well, I like it if I can play in the food and get up and run around and make lots of noise, which my Very Mean Mommy won’t let me do! I luuuuuuurrrrrrrrrves me some Sunday School. Ms K is fun! I’m a most good and determined ‘vestigator. Is that the same as an alligator? Anyway, I almost ‘scaped while I was ‘vestigating the new groceries Mommy was bringing in the other night. Da-da had to come get me and keep me “corralled”, whatever that means.
P.S. Mommy would like me to say that this is a very old picture from when I just turned all big and One. I’m 17 months, now, I’ll have you know! Anyway, she says that the computer ate her pic of my new soohs, and she’ll try to get it up soon.
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So Sunday, the YCU came home with a *new* breast pump (Wahoo!!), some darling coming-home-from-the-hospital clothes, Twizzlers licorice (my favorite), and some chocolate. This is much improved.



{May 7, 2011}   PSA for men everywhere:

Guns are never a good Mother’s Day gift. Never. I don’t care if she hunts with the best of them, and is a member of the Navy Seals. NO mother wants a gun for Mother’s Day. NOT ONE OF THEM. How could any man be so clueless? I was hoping that all this extra work he’d been doing would lead to a nice Mother’s Day gift. I hope he didn’t expect me to jump up and down and be excited, cause that certainly didn’t happen. I was even so bold as to ask him what made him think I would want a gun, when a pair of diamond earrings would have sufficed? I’m going to bed.



et cetera