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!

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:

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:

He seems to be adjusting well.

Sorry so late…but my progeny ARE stunning

If I say so myself!

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!

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.

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.

He hath redeemed himself in mine eyes.

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.

*sniff*

That sniff if two-fold. I’ve been dealing with a sinus infection/ebola virus (yes, again) and do you know my ENT tried to give me amoxicillin? I told them “They give my 16 month old amoxicillin. This isn’t going to touch what I’ve got going on in there.” Because I was pregnant, they were afraid to give me anything stronger. Seriously? I called my OB, and begged for Levaquin. Miracle drug, that one. Anyway, she didn’t want to give me that cause she said it was a category C drug and didn’t like to use it for pregnant girls. It was all I could do not ask “It’s not a category X, is it?” She called me in some clarithromycin. We’ll see. The other part of my *double sniff* is my child took off his own dipey today and threw it over the side of his baby jail. It was wet. (What’s funny about this is I didn’t notice till I saw him sitting on my kitchen floor and thought to myself: Hmmm. That doesn’t look like the Mickey/Minnie Huggies he had on earlier…Oh God, it’s his pee-pee!) He’s 16 months old. Dare we start looking at potties? I haven’t noticed him hiding behind the furniture…wait a minute. Maybe I have. But isn’t this awfully early for potty-training a boy? Aren’t they supposed to take off their dipeys and put the ‘big boys’ on the week before kindergarten or something? Maybe we’ll get one and let him get used to it being around. Ideas?

And…the neighbor. *sigh* He’s at it again. Last week while my brother and SIL were here, he came over and was mowing our front yard, presumably because he thought it was too high. No, he wasn’t doing us a favor, because if he was, he’d have mowed the backyard too, but he didn’t. My SIL told me she had thought I was kidding before when I was complaining about it. Nope. Dead serious. Then, the next day, my husband and his friend were working on his car outside and the neighbor came over and offered them $50 apiece if they would move the car inside the garage so he didn’t have to look at it every time he walked out of the house. Not kidding. It’s amazing, I know. He doesn’t seem to get it. We own this house. We pay the mortgage. Therefore, we can do pretty much whatever we want to with it, as long as it’s not an eyesore. (Which it wasn’t, they move it inside every night when they’re done. They like to work in the light and breeze. Reasonable, no? The next time I see him, I’m gonna have to lay down the law and tell him not to set foot on our property, I don’t care if the house is on fire, he better not even unzip his britches to piss on it. Trespassers will be shot, and survivors shot again, etc. I don’t like to be that way, but apparently, he’s just dumb enough that I have to be. I’ll put up a sign, or something. Have him arrested for it, which is totally asinine, but what else do you do?

UPDATE: He was cutting our grass again this am. YCU is convinced that if we piss him off, he’ll call the police/city code people every time we want to do anything, and even if we’re not doing anything wrong, he doesn’t want to deal with them. He also said that if I say anything and he smarts off to me, he (my husband) will end up in jail for punching him in the nose. Seriously? Like I’m not perfectly capable of taking care of myself. *ARRRRRRRGH!* He promises to put up a sign. We all know it won’t work, and we’ll have to do things my way anyway, but I’d rather just save a lot of time and holler at him now rather than later.

I’ve spawned a daredevil.

That is all. We went to the park for the first time yesterday and played on the swings and the slide. Fletcher had a ball! Grinning the whole time and giggling. He tried to go up the slide backwards, and when I let go of him for a second, he pushed off and was sliding down all by himself! My child’s not afraid of anything!! I see roller coasters in our future, what do you think? I held him up high in the swing and let him go, and he screamed and giggled the whole time, and even started to pump his little legs trying to make it go faster! I think the park was a hit, you? Pics to follow, I haven’t gotten around to emailing them yet!