Blondecisions

Baby Fever: will it win?

I'm fighting this baby fever I've had on and off for a few years and it's winning.

One moment I feel I should let the hubster get a vasectomy and be happy with what we have. We've reached a great point in our lives where we have no diaper bags, no babies. The boys are 5, 8 and 11 and we have a lot of fun going to sports games and hiking, etc...

But the next moment I want one last baby.....for reasons that are important to me and that my hubby cannot argue with. And he admits he kind of wishes we had one more. But he cannot get over thinking it would be really bad for us. I completely understand his reasoning. I just cannot seem to end it there though. So we're actually talking about this seriously now.

I think the boys would be really helpful at their ages and they love babies and toddlers. They're really good with the babies and toddlers around here. Of course adding yet another sibling when we already have a big family isn't completely ideal. We're worried about the space in the house and the busy-ness and chaos.

The hubby is worried that I will have a hard time with the pregnancy (mine are usually hard, but I'd never tried things I use now to combat fibromyalgia like acupuncture). He's also worried about our stress and his being an absent father and being a stranger to the baby. He travels every week around the US and one of the guys he works with told him he's a stranger to his 10-month-old daughter.

I want a baby I actually plan. I want a natural birth with a practitioner who respects me and whom I like. I want a long-term successful breastfeeding relationship now that I am home full time and won't be tortured by pumping (or not) at work and working on no sleep. I want to ENJOY the baby this time. Having Jack was amazing after two stressful births and childhoods for the older boys. Now that I am home full time it will be even better.

Hubby says we will go back to square one and will have to put life on hold another 5 years. He's nearly three years past the age he wanted to be when he had a last child. He wants us to move on to the next stage and enjoy life. He's worried about my health and happiness. We're both worried about money in the long term and buying a house.

We both agree we wouldn't buy a ton of unecessary stuff for the baby - I'm a pretty veteran mom at this point and know what's frivolous. We both agree a more natural birth where we're in control is better. We both agree that we would wait until the baby is born to see what it is (we don't want to know).

The hubster is really dragging his feet and not getting into the subject much. I am on a rollercoaster of emotion and keep trying to choose. I have moments of clarity and want the vasectomy but they're usually short and ouutweighed by wanting a baby. It's silly and I should just stop and enjoy what I have and move on.

Ok, I just keep repeating myself - enough already! *sigh*

Missing my hubby

I don't know if hard times and bad things happen often when my husband is home, because he's the buffer between me and the world. My rock. But when he's traveling, things happen all the time that drag on me and I notice them more because I don't have his strength behind me. sure, when he's home he's a pain in the ass as all husbands are! But overall I adore him and draw a lot of strength from him when he's near - like an energy transfer. I can only imagine how hard I am on him when I'm literally sucking his energy.

The last 6 weeks have been a flurry of activity and transformations. We moved 3,000 miles, hubby started traveling intensely with this job, I gave up a lot of my work and focused more on the house and the kids, I've met a ton of people, and a lot of really shitty things have happened. I'm strong in the moment of crisis, but this has been prolonged. By week number 4 I started to crack. It didn't help that I was highly hormonal during my period and it left me absolutely drained. I'm still recovering from that and trying to find my patience with the kids and everyday life.

Well, off to bed.... the house is clean, it's dark outside, I've got no wine, there's no Grey's Anatomy or House to watch and I have no motivation to do anything else. So I might as well catch some Zzzz's before the hubster gets home. He's coming in late tonight for (I hope!) 4 days.

He DOES love me, dirty mugs and all!

I was searching in vain for the second dirty, lidded coffee mug that I knew would be cleaner than the first one that’s been sitting half full on the back of the sink for a week and … and… and… I found it in the DISHWASHER!

I knew then that even when he’s mad at me, my husband LOVES me and will put my coffee mug in the dishwasher for me. He ignored one mug, but #2 made it in for the first time ever after asking only once that he puts my mugs in when he does dishes.

I am loved.

*sigh*

Mom is evil?

(written to my friend)

How do you tell your own mother than you think she’s evil? How do you tell her that you think she needs to be evaluated for a mental illness?

It’s official – my mother is turning on me like a rabid animal. But more than that, she’s having life problems and I wonder if she’s really suffering from something that needs to be diagnosed.

All I know is, I just don’t want to deal with her nonsense anymore… and that makes me feel terrible.

More later...

I found my oldest friend

Or rather, she found me. We’ve been chatting for several months and I finally got to see her this weekend. We’ve known each other since we were about 2-4 years old.

She revealed that I am on her Kindergarten report card. Yes! My name is there. Apparently our teacher was quite upset at our socializing! LOL

We were best friends until about 7^th grade and though we even graduated together, we hadn’t been friends since then… until now.

Am I a Drama Queen?

My husband's been damn irritable lately and it's really pissing me off. But the nerve! He had the nerve to tell me (ME!) that I am a drama queen tonight.

I USED to be a drama queen, but I haven't been for years. I love a domesticated, quiet life now. Yet apparently something's carrying over.

He says when I tell myself I need something, I NEEEED it now. Right then. I talk about it non-stop. I obsess about it. I can't live without it.

Is that really drama though? He said I'm dramatic about it until I finally forget and move on.

I do get excited about things and I do obsess over them. But drama? Nyet. I know I should address the obsessiveness. I actually usually refer to it as PASSION. I think that's common in creative types. I am passionate about things.

Lately I have had to change a few things that I've done my whole life to try and meet him in the middle, yet sometimes it's never enough. I stopped thriving on drama and trauma years ago - largely in part to his making me aware of it. I agreed it had to go! It went easy enough. But now? Why should I rid myself of being passionate about something?

I guess this means I continue being passionate, but I'll have to further censor myself from him to save him the grief. What really pisses me off is when I try not to be overbearing and talk non-stop, he asks me what's wrong and needles me until I talk.

My Neighbor's a Jackass

Oh how proud and how horrified I was when my husband got into a verbal argument (of sorts) with the neighbor this morning. We live in a duplex and we have a small West Highland White Terrier (westie) whose behavior in the past year has plummeted to downright terrible. Why? Because he's a terrier, because people tease him through the fence, because the postman pepper sprayed him and because the neighbor baits him with a muzzled German Shepard.

The schmuck stands outside on his sidewalk, smiling and laughing as my dog tries to get through the fence, all the while ripping up my garden. This morning, the garden is muddy from the rain, and that JERK must have stood there for a very long time just letting him freak out.

How do I know? Because Rudy had mud up to his chest, because my entire garden, the length of the short fence was completely ripped to shreds with dirt flung outside it's border, Rudy was looking for the German Shepard at the back fence, the German Shepard was in the window on his side still freaking out (which he never does), and because the neighbor wouldn't face us the second we walked out.

I hate to get into it with neighbors because you have to continue to live side-by-side, but my husband saw him and just lit right into him about the dogs. His answer? Why should our dog be outside alone and he thought his dogs would be FRIENDS.

Yah, ok.

My husband's answer: Because he's a small dog and we have a fence, and because "It's been a year, and it's not working. Please stop baiting our dog."

That seems to be what he's doing. He either loves the fact that Rudy is a canine rototiller OR he is baiting the dogs to be aggressive towards each other. He says it's "cute" and Rudy's such a "big man". Well, I think Rudy's a SNACK. This big dog has to wear a muzzle because he's bitten people. He rarely gets out to play and he has no social skills. In fact, he lunged at my very friendly husband once.

He used to live on this side, but try as I might I haven't found the trap floor in the basement where he kept little children or women. Though he's been building something on his side. I imagine another shower in the kitchen like he built on this side?

To add a little salsa to our pan fried freek-a-zoid neighbor, I caught him last year in his skimpy bikini or speedo or something, watching my kids through our fence while they played in a kiddie pool. When he saw me, he left.

Is that enough to make you vomit? Between that and the dog, we'll be calling the cops next time he does anything.

There is no joy left: brownie batter

I bought a 99 cent box of brownie mix (luxury) to enjoy this week (cure my hell) while I move towards (spiral to the depths of hell) my period. I don't find great pleasure in much during this time and I look forward to sitting in my chair, with a big bowl of brownie batter. I might bake up half (or whatever is left).

Being a bit crabby today (my head was spinning 360 degrees and I vomited green stuff all over the curtains while pulling the hair out of my dog's ass one by one to hear him howl) my husband decided to make a peace offering.

I should have sensed the box being opened; the contents being emptied. I should have smelled the chocolate being formed in the bowl and poured into a pan. I should have known the oven door was opened for MY desecrated brownies.

But alas, I didn't know until it was too late. And he brought me literally a half a teaspoon's worth to lick off the spatula. Needless to say I ran to the stove, cursing all the way. I grabbed the pan in a furry and was left with a scorched middle finger... to which I prominently have displayed in my husband's direction as it cools.

The BASTARD.

Might I mention my husband's threatened my computer unless I write in this Statement eau Brownie Stealing Joy Sucking Dickhead-o that he didn't KNOW that's what I bought the brownies for. :ikely story. Hasn't he seen me before trying desperatley to suck life into the organic, yogurt No-Pudge Brownies? Ohh and he just KNEW I was going to blog this... as if I have nothing better to do than blog all day.

So rise up, girls. Grab your brownie batter and eat all ya want. My joy may be gone, but yours can be just beginning.

Ugghhhh...Work Travel

I just got an e-mail from the hubster about his going to some training from February 13th to the 18th in another state. That's just in time for T's first week home inn the evenings and my extensive travel to and from the partial program.

Ok. Panic.

First - no help in mornings or evenings and T's not exactly ready to come home so I think things will be just as bad.

Second - if my car dies out on the road, I am screwed.

Third - I am SO sick of his job already. I try to be supportive, and in most ways I do like where we're at. But I hate his hours, his travel, his stress, and our being stuck as close to NYC as possible. We'll never live somewhere he won't have a long commute to work and we'll never have less than a $1,700 rent or $1,500 mortgage.

I am becoming a single parent during a time when two parents aren't enough and I'm hating it. I try to accept it so I am not causing myself more trouble than would be there if I wasn't so wrapped up emotionally, but it's hard to deal with. I didn't like being a single parent when life was easy and certainly never signed on to act as one when I got married. Now that I really need my husband he's got the career thing going.

I used to be the career person and he was left in the dust. I just wish he'd have gone back to school for teaching as I know he would have been so good. But somewhere in him he thrives off being more "city." I can't blame him, but I also yearn for the in between. I want a house with a yard that doesn't cost us $700,000.

You know, I really think I am having a panic attack over this trip. I know I am capable ... but I'm still panicky.

MY Zone; MY Obsession

I now have... a ZONE. It's my place, where no one else is allowed. I don't even let the dog or cat down there. My husband rarely goes down into the hole, and from the beginning when we moved here in May, my KIDS have not been allowed to step one foot down there. If I see an ankle peeking through the stairs, their butts are mine.

I have everything set up as I want it and the best part is, NO ONE is ever down there to move things. I know I should sort of be offended that my husband won't enter the space, but now I've grown to enjoy it. It's ALL mine. Nothing disappears, is broken, get's spilled, and no one begs me for anything from the room.

It's like my cocoon: energizing me and returning my sanity. It's my laundry room in the basement.

I laid an old 9x12 carpet down, and some carpet pieces line the dusty floor from the stairs to the laundry area. Much of the basement floor is dirt, so it's just not ideal. I have plastic totes for separating clothes like mine and my husband's, my two youngest son's, my oldest son's, my towels and sheets, and one for white.

I have a clothes line ready to go up, a drying rack and several nails on which I hang clothes with hangers. Each person has their own nail(s) to hang on and I've always used different color hangers for each individual. Like mine are black, my husbands white and green (until I can make them all one color), A is blue, T is white and J has the other primary colors.

I use some phone line or something that's stapled up there snug to hold all of our empty hangers, and I have several hampers and clothes baskets awaiting folded clothes.

The landlord's washer and dryer set that came with the place (non functioning) sit just opposite mine on the rug, and a big shelf unit sits off the side/middle for soaps and odds and ends. I have purchased a counter top ironing board which I hang near the dryer and my iron plugs in over the dryer itself. How perfect is that? The washer and dryer are brand new, and an old end table sits between the shelf and washer on the corner of the rug for holding hampers higher so I don't have to bend all of the time.

Everything is folded or hung the second it comes out, and I can now iron my husband's shirts when I have a few minutes in the evenings. I make my husband and kids carry it all to put away 90% of the time. They at least carry it and then I put it away when I am upstairs.

I find it's an escape - a retreat from mommyhood, the house, and being the wifey. I get to tell everyone laundry is important and we have so much of it that I must stay on top of it....therefore Daddy will take care of everything up here, I'm doing laundry. I am even washing towels and sheets more often just to have something to wash.

I have hampers in everyone's bedrooms and insist they're used and then emptied every 5-7 days. Interestingly, the hubby has been the one who leaves his clothes out the most, with my oldest being the runner up.

Everything in the area is hung or folded almost perfectly and I spend 20-30 minutes down there at a time; or easily an hour when ironing all hubby's clean shirts. Laundry has never looked so good or been so caught up. I am thinking about installing a hammock.