I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve peed on at least 8 sticks. All negative. Even the one made out of gold from the pharmacy. I’m almost a week late, I’ve been nauseated and puking off and on for a week now, my boobs are NOT sore, I spotted for a couple of days after the IUD came out, then nothing, I spotted on Thursday, then nothing. I have had some cramping, but it feels just like it did when I got pregnant with Fletcher. (Which, incidentally, is just like it feels when I’m about to be invaded my Mr Monthly Visitor. Unhelpful, much?) I’m tired, and I’ve had a sinus infection from hell where I took antibiotics for 10 days. Now we all know that my ute isn’t the most reliable thing. But really? Does it have to act like this? I can’t take all this drama. I wish I’d just bleed already, and get it over with! Fletcher said ‘Nana’ last night. I don’t know if he was referring to my MIL, or if he wanted to eat ‘nanas. He loves him some ‘nanas.
Yep. Shitters were full. Anyway, you’ll all be happy to know I survived breakfast with my MIL, and no one had to part with any hard-earned cash to bail me out of the pokey! *insert extended applause here* It was actually a pleasant time. I’m starting to feel the inklings of an out of body experience, here. Surely there couldn’t have just been two major holidays made pleasant by my MIL, right?
In other news, my SIL is pregnant. Yep, my brother is having another rugrat/tricycle motor/yard ape. I’m so excited for them, but they just sold all their baby stuff in a yard sale! I offered my bassinet and stuff for their use. I know where they live.
I had some bleeding last week. Spit spotting for about 3ish days. It would go hours, almost a whole day, then start up again. This was accompanied by twinges from the right ovary. Hmmmm…….Anyway, it was like two, maybe 3 days after I had the IUD out. Surely not…..
Off to cart Grumpy McStinkypants to Grandmama’s for Christmas dinner. *beleaguered sigh* YCU has to go to work. This should be fun. But! But! He can entertain everyone by saying ‘Papa’. So I’ll let you know how it goes.
Today, I walked to the anesthesia workroom and asked two young ladies there for an item that lived there, I just didn’t know where. Apparently, they were CRNA students. The response I got was “We’re not anesthesia techs.” Ooooo-kay, could you tell me where it is and I’ll just get it myself? I mean, really? What, pray tell, does that have to do with the price of tea in China? What, you’re too good to help me find something, or just hand it to me since you most likely still know where it is, despite your deficiency in manners?
Anyway.
This week, I was asking one of the surgeons about his daughters, how they were doing, what schools they’d been accepted to, and whatnot. He told me, and I asked if it would be for a volleyball scholarship and he stated “No, I pay the school, and she can play on the team if she wants.” Gotta love those politics. So I made the comment that all that grace and coordination stuff had passed me by, and I had to settle for just being a smart kid! To this, he responded: *sigh* “That just means that if you were single, and I were single, I’d have to pass on you, because I just couldn’t dilute my gene pool with someone who wasn’t an athlete.” True story. Straight-faced and everything! He meant it! His general rhetoric is all about how he’s amazing, his wife’s gorgeous, his girls are wonderful, and they’re all better than you, etc, etc. It was funny. I mean, seriously? As if I was offering! Another surgeon today told me that if I was ever to become husband-less, I would need to change my ways if I hoped to ever have another one. Wow. Really? Because I stand up for myself and have expectations that he behave like a grown-up? This makes me an Undesirable? Really? Boys are stupid. I said it in high school a lot, which is probably why I didn’t have a lot of dates, but it really is true. *sigh*
My MIL has invited herself, her husband, and my stepson over TO MY HOUSE for Christmas morning. To cook in my kitchen. And my husband has to go to work at 1pm. And I have to grin and bear it. Wahoo. Would you all mind pooling your resources to bail me out? Great.
Earlier this week, my husband called me at work and was angry that I’d forgotten to bring the diaper bag in from my car. Oops, sorry hon. I told him he could come pick it up, then go to his event. To which he responded “I’m not driving all the way down there for that.” People, it’s a 15 min drive to my work. Yes, really. I know. But I called him back, and reminded him that there was a bigger bag in our closet, he could throw some diapers, wipes, and clothes in that, and still go wherever it was he needed to go. He didn’t want to do that either, because I should have just remembered, etc, etc. I hit the roof. Over the phone, at work. There were witnesses to my disgrace. They laughed. So, I said. What you’re telling me, is that you’re not really that motivated to go anywhere, because you’ve turned down two perfectly viable options. You just wanted to call here and bitch at me because you had nothing better to do. Damn it, fix the problem, grow some problem solving skills, and don’t bother me with stupid shit like that! I don’t have time to deal with it, and if I’d been the one stranded, I’d have gotten my happy ass in my car, driven to wherever you were, retrieved the bag, and been on my merry way without bothering him in the least! Small child! ARRRRRRRRRRGH!
Fletcher has learned to climb on his new toy box and take down all his books! As we speak, I’m trying to figure out how to attach a rock to his head so he doesn’t grow up. I’ll let you know what I come up with.
I started an IV yesterday. IN ONE STICK. I’ve not started an IV in at least 5 years. Someone please jump up and down for me and clap, before I explode and just start tooting my own horn! Loudly! I’m only pleased as punch, a little bit. Just a little bit. Like ridin’ a bike, baby! (Oh, yes, I am a nurse and all, but anesthesia usually does that for us in the holding room, so it kind of eliminates it from our job description. This CRNA needed an extra pair of hands, and mine were the only ones available.)
is turning 1!!! In 4 days!!! We’ve made it! Without any ER visits! So, I’m a little excited. Just a little. Anyway, we had the first of 2 birthday parties today. We went to the MIL’s and had cake and milk. Fletcher loves cake. Pics to follow, but trust me, it was precious! I didn’t even have to show him how to open presents. I guess that skill’s genetic, cause, boy, he had it down! And then he played with the box. *sigh* Some things are universal, I suppose. My MIL was very well-behaved and we had a nice time. I know, I’m as shocked as you. I can only hope this lasts till Fletcher graduates high school, at least. I know, I’m a real pessimist, but most of you have been with me for the other meltdowns in appropriateness she’s had, so, I mean, really? What else did you think was gonna happen, right? In other news, Fletcher has his 1 year old dr’s appt next week, on the 14th, and I have an appointment to have my IUD removed the same day. (Gulp!) We got to eat with my dad and his new girlfriend (Yes, I know, he’s nuts. He will never learn.) in honor of my sister’s birthday yesterday. She seemed ok. But so did the last two. Ugh. (Dear God, please make my dad have some common sense this time please? Thanks.) Oh, yes. Just call me Wilhelmina Faulkner. “My son is a puppy.” Albeit, a darling one.
Yeah, I’ve been reading Twi-porn. *shamefacedly covers her head* But! I’ve also been up past midnight for about 6 nights in a row! (Hint: It was even more fun than reading.) Coincidentally, my husband has been finding the hamper, dishwasher, and garbage with increasing accuracy. Hmmmm…anyway. I didn’t forget about you all, there was just not enough hours in the day to blog aaaaaannnnnd, well, you know. So I’m thinking of starting Fletcher his own blog. That way, he won’t keep hijacking mine, and my parents can see it and all the aunts and uncles, and maybe that’ll keep the MIL from marching forth and invading more often. Oh!! He has a toof! Just one, and there’s not much of it, but that damn thing is sharp! Yes, I found out the hard way. He won’t be using my finger as a chew toy anymore. He’s also sitting up unaided all the time now. He’s not made any effort at sitting up from a lying position, but he’s doing well with his sit ups and tummy time, so I imagine it won’t be long. My house is in a terminal state of funk, partially due to living with two grown men (Oh, no I didn’t suddenly change religions, we’ve got a roommate. He pays us $350 a month, and we get groceries, and he gets free water and internet.) and an infant, and partially cause of Twi-porn. Like I said, there’s only so many hours in the day, and men can’t be bothered to wipe their feet, and not leave sticky stuff on the counter tops, load the dishwasher, take out the trash, and generally everything else that’s their job because I said so. Maybe we should blow it up and start over. (Just so everyone knows, that’s a joke, and if my house were to blow up, it would be completely unintentional. Really. I promise.) The guy that is my antagonist at work was put in his place the other day. He was the one who told me I didn’t need to gain anymore weight the same day the doc told me I was stupid, and the anesthesiologist told me I was easy. (All of this was out of context, but I’ve never let them forget it.) He keeps teasing me about joining a gym, and when he made the comment about me getting some dumbbells, well, I had to remind him that I already had two at work. *smiles* We had to drive to Cleveland, TN on Friday. My husband’s ex-stepdad’s sister died and we had to go to the visitation. I hate going down there. We’ve been talking about trying to get pregnant again next year. We’ll see how it goes.
Item-I was told at work that AC/DC was satanic. Yeah. Irish, maybe, but “You Shook Me All Night Long” wasn’t discussing fire and brimstone. Sorry to disappoint you.
Item-My new job is about to get slower, due to one of the docs getting fired.
Item-My offspring ate moss today. Peat moss that was growing on my rock wall in the yard. I sat him on the wall and began planning my newest landscaping project. When I looked back down, he was stuffing a piece of moss the size of a cupcake in his mouth! I probably should have been horrified, but I laughed. I did, however make an attempt to retrieve the moss before it went down the hatch. Mother of the Year moment number 97968746592. *sigh*
Item-My husband finally settled with his old job over his worker’s comp claim, so we’ll be able to pay off a major bill and have a vacation! Woot!
Item-Tomorrow, I will be introducing Fletcher to my grandmother’s family. They were having their last to-do on the day he was born, and were all mad at my sister for not bringing Fletcher pictures!
Item-We are in the process of re-financing the house. Should free up some much needed capital, and lower our interest rate. Yes, my life is so boring this warrants a spot on this increasingly boring list.
Item-Oh! I did get to see Eclipse last night! Shirtless boys and sexy vampires! Sounds like a party to me!
Item-I think the MIL is starting to pick up on my moods. My step-son tried to tell me to be quiet the baby was sleeping the other day, and when I gave him the “It would be very wise for you to start walking to the car now” look, she suggested that very thing! It’s only taken 10 years. Wonder how long it’ll take before she learns to teach him what’s inappropriate in the first place. He’ll probably be retiring.
The MIL filed for and was granted custody of my stepson in February. Ok. She’s just now gotten around to filing for child support. Ok, fine. My husband’s wages have been garnished for 11 years now, ever since he and the Manbearpig split. The case is still open between the MBP and my husband, even though she’s not had physical custody of the stepson since August 2009, and legal custody of him since February. I understand that my husband went behind during the great job hunt of 09. I get it. However, shouldn’t that money be going to my MIL? It’s not. It’s still going to the MBP. Who’s not been sending the money, because she lost her job to have fat surgery, and she’s still fat, so she’s spending the CS on food, presumably. So in the petition we got from court from my MIL, it states that my husband is legally required to support the child and has failed to do so. BULLSHIT. We’ve got check stubs with listed deductions to prove it. Where it goes after it leaves his payroll office, I don’t know, nor do we have any control over that. We can’t help it that the MBP is a dishonest, trashy, moronic, fat, filthy, piece of shit who can’t afford to live without the money she owes my MIL for all the months he’s been in her custody. My MIL knows that. Not to mention, the summons only lists my husband, not the MBP. This pisses me off. She’s only going after him for money? What about her? Hmmm. It also states that if he is obligated to pay support for any other children to bring proof of that as well. Well, he has another child, but that money just comes home and is deposited automatically, so do we just bring a birth certificate? How does that work? I hope he calls the MIL tonight and not only gets some clarification, but demands proof. I soooo wouldn’t put it past her to lie to him again about all of it. I tried to call him earlier and he was “at work, I can’t deal with this now. I’ve got too much stress in all this heat.” Yeah. The man installs and services dog containment fields. Yes, hot, yes manual labor, but stress? I don’t think so. Wednesday, I was literally throwing epinephrine and bicarb to some anesthesiologists who were simultaneously hanging multiple units of blood and starting central lines while the surgeon was performing cardiac massage (internal CPR). And this was only the first code on this patient. The second one started when blood began pouring out of the ET tube. I’m sorry. Maybe my perspective on stress is somewhat skewed. Did you say you had a stressful job? cricket…..cricket…. Yeah, that’s what I thought. (By the way, the patient lived, albeit after they coded him for over an hour. They suspect some mild brain damage. Ugh. I sure don’t want to be involved in that conversation with his family.) *sigh* I’m gonna try not to get worried about it and just help him with getting the paperwork together. It all depends on how big a shit the judge took that morning anyway. It really doesn’t matter what we say or do. I just hope this finally opens up YCU’s eyes to his mother’s complete conniving, backstabbing bitchiness.
Update: Ok, YCU said he spoke with his mother and she had to file separate petitions because they were never married. (Using the accident birth control method at the time) Apparently, she just had to fill out a generic form. I assume she will clarify during the court session. I plan to send proof of payment documentation anyway.
I didn’t answer. My husband had already warned me about what she wanted. He has to work tomorrow and that left us without a baby-sitter temporarily. She basically laid herself out at his feet and begged to watch the baby. She would come to our house, she would bring [fill-in-the-blank], she had my stepson with her but would take care of any issues we had with him being there without us. Luckily for him, his knows-where-his-bread-is-buttered ass told her he’d have to discuss it with me. I don’t think so. I think I’ve mentioned here before about how likely elephants are to do the two-step before she keeps my baby unsupervised. Quite frankly, I’m afraid that should she get a wild hair up her ass and get angry with me for some reason, she might just try to take my child from me. While her home is the lesser of two evils for my stepson, she still was sneaky and conniving about the whole thing, and she basically took him from the Manbearpig (Ex-Bitch). I realize I’m 84 times the mother the Manbearpig is, but I wouldn’t put it past my MIL to fabricate as a means to an end. My husband can trust her all he wants. I don’t, and am highly unlikely to anytime in the next millenium. She just showed up anyway. *beleaguered sigh* My husband told me that’s what I get for not answering my phone. I told him he needed to handle his own mother. I told him that she needed to communicate with him, and if something needed to be run by me, he could do the running. I also told him that if he continued to push the issue, I’d have to get real honest with her about my trust issues, and I didn’t think he wanted that. Our regular baby-sitter is a saint, and called back earlier today with a favorable answer to our request. My offspring has progressed to holding things! And eating some rice cereal. He hasn’t quite mastered the grasping aspect of holding, but he understands the squeezing/taste-testing method. He’s brilliant. I knew it. My best friend called this week and asked if we were planning on having any more kids. I told her I’d like to get a full night’s sleep before making such a big decision.
This week a girl I work with had a c-section. First they had to do a d&c for bleeding. Then she still wouldn’t stop bleeding, so they had to do a hysterectomy. THEN, they nicked a uterine artery, and she almost bled to death. CPR, intubation, ventilator, 20 units of blood, the whole nine yards. The whole thing gave me goosebumps. Baby was fine, thank goodness. I’m not sure how her partner would have dealt without something to focus her attention on. But for the grace of God go I.
I entered my baby in a photo contest. He’ll win, of course. Should anyone at that publication *coughAmerican Babycough* have the audacity not to select my child, well…I plan to demand an explanation in a strongly worded letter. But he’ll win. So I won’t have to get carpal tunnel syndrome typing the damn thing. Cause he’ll win.
I worked some more on his baby book. Put in pictures and everything. My husband decided to use his free time wisely today and finally print out the damn pictures I’ve been losing shoes up his ass over for quite some time now. *contented sigh* It’s so much easier to walk with both feet on the ground, you know. All kidding aside, he’s really been sweet lately. He’s actually helping with the baby more, and being very snuggly. It’s been nice. I know, I’m gushing. Feel free to vomit. I’ll throw you a bucket. I do it for a living.
I was pontificating about and lamenting my wardrobe the other day. When the cutest clothes you own are maternity clothes, ummm…that’s bad. I used my birthday money and bought some new spring tops. Too bad I won’t get to wear them for like, oh, I don’t know, another MONTH. I had to exchange one of them. I was unable to try them on at the time due to a certain YCU that doesn’t understand fit and I quote “didn’t have time.” I took my sister the next time. I exchanged my top and played British Bound Barbie. She’s leaving for England on Friday, so I dressed her. It was fun. We were actually able to spend time together and not threaten to kill each other. So out of character for us. We can usually only take each other in person in very small doses. We’re talking minutes here. I was on call all weekend, and she came to help with Mini-Me. I never got called. This is unheard of. Very twilight-zonish. I work in a 700+ bed hospital. It was a full moon. I should have never seen my sister, except for passing her in the driveway. Strange. *doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo*
Oh, yes. The MIL. Well, this week, she’s filing for custody of my stepson. For a myriad of reasons, he can’t come live at our house, and he can’t go back to his mother’s, so he’s in the best place for him. The Ex-Bitch (a.k.a Manbearpig) has wreaked havoc in our lives for the last 10 years. My husband informed his mother (the MIL) that if she was one day late with the child support, and she didn’t swear out a warrant for her arrest, she could just write him off, as he would never speak to her again. I’m not certain, but I think this was his way of letting her know she screwed up big by keeping the whereabouts of my stepson a secret from him. Big. Huge. I’ll get out my pom-poms and start cheering him on now, cause she’ll decide to do the “christian” thing, and let bygones be bygones, mark my word. She suddenly started going to church every time the doors are open and getting all holier than thou about us not going to church regularly. She’s gotten old and suddenly she’s afraid she might not get into heaven. That’s my theory, anyway. (Not that that’s how it works, but you know what I mean.) Hmmm. Guilty conscience, anyone?
My baby has the same bubonic plague/ebola virus that has settled in my and my husband’s sinuses. *sniffle* I’ve tried so hard to keep him from getting sick. He’s afebrile, but he’s all snotty and coughing up gunk. He’s not really enthused about the snotsucker either. What do you do? We’ve gotta get it out of his nose somehow. He’s currently sleeping sitting up in his swing with the humidifier and vaporizer for company. Poor baby.
No, I mean it! It really was! I thought I would have to continually recite my mantra in my head: I must not kill, I must not kill, I must not kill….but my MIL completely behaved herself, and even asked what we needed for the baby and plans to buy us diapers. I know. I’m just as shocked as you are. I swear, it’s true, though. Jumping Bean’s currently sleeping in his swing, the dishwasher’s running, the laundry’s half done, and I’m feeling good. Went to my grandparents’ house yesterday, and he got passed around and loved on, my cousins and aunts held him while I got to eat, and everyone said he looked like me. Which, of course, he does. How else could he be so good lookin’? I actually enjoyed myself! I hope everyone had a good Christmas!
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