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Category Archives: I’m a crazy bitch

The things you think about…

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**Disclaimer: this is pure babble.

When I was in the depths of my freakout the other morning, and by depths, I mean calmly walking to the basement to dig through an old purse to find a maxi pad, and grabbing paper towels and ziplock bags in case I needed to retrieve tissue, I said to myself over and over again “Please let them be ok. Please let them be ok. Please PLEASE let them be ok.” I wouldn’t call it a prayer, as much as it was a mantra, but saying it helped to keep me even, and calm.

Once we were at the hospital, and things were getting real, and especially after Ed had to leave to get the kids to school, I started thinking thoughts of “What will I do if this was all for nothing?”

It’s not a secret that I was conflicted, first about being pregnant, when all I’ve said for years is that I wanted just one more. When faced with it though, the very first thing I thought was that things are good the way they are. I cried.  I processed. And after a few days, I was good.  Better than good.  So happy to be adding to our family. Really.  And then we found out that it was 2 babies, and my husband was so excited he was pretty much dancing on the ceiling, and my only emotion was shock. Pure and unadulterated shock. And it took me a few days of processing, pacing, not sleeping and not eating to make myself be ok with it.  Not that I ever had any questions about whether or not I would love a baby, or 2 babies, or even 7 babies because of course I would, and already did on some level, BUT because if ever there was a time for a major freakout, if ever I knew that our lives would be in a complete upheaval, I knew this was it.  And I do not deal with upheaval very well.  By nature, I am calm, even and smooth.  I hate surprises.  HATE. This was anything but calm and unsurprising.  I’m babbling, I know, but the point is that it took me a few days to settle and process the new information and move forward with a plan and to really be ok and believe that 2 babies and 5 kids in total was the way it was supposed to be.

And then after that, I comforted myself with thoughts along the lines of “this is the last time I ever have to…” You know, have nausea, feel the round ligament pain, feel the belly stretching in general, I can finally get this umbilical hernia repaired, soon I can take good drugs again and forever after. The usual, I suppose.  The point being that I knew without a doubt that this was my very last pregnancy.  There was no more uncertainty that our family would not be complete, that anyone would be missing.  We would be done.  We would all be here.  We would take permanent measures to ensure that would be true. I knew for certain that babymaking and growing, and incubation, the Incubation Nation as it were, would be OVER.

So then we had Monday and it left me with thoughts along the lines of “What will I do if I lose these babies?” And seriously, what would I do? Be done? Just give up, and be content with our family as it is today? I’d already made peace with never being pregnant again.  If the end result of said pregnancy happened to be no babies, would I be willing to risk it all and try again? AND lets say I did try again, and we had one baby, would I want to have a 5th since I now have 5 stuck in my head as “our number”? I have no idea.  No idea no idea no idea.  I had a hard time reconciling that ll the sickness and pregnancy bullshit could have possibly been for nothing, which was why, along with the fact that I finally realized, FINALLY(!) that I am so attached to these babies, I kept going with my mantra of “Please let them be ok. Please let them be ok. Please PLEASE let them be ok.” I didn’t know what else to do.

And so now we are here, with things seeming to be fine. 2 healthy babies and the end of our first trimester. And I want to be happy and calm and a chill as I ever was, but I’ve sort of transformed into this girl on edge.  I’ve only had the slightest scare. Nothing happened.  But what if it gets worse?  What will we do then? I’m pretty sure that I won’t take a true deep and calm breath until these babies are here and healthy.  And then what? Worry for the rest of their lives of course. Or the rest of my life anyway.

What if? What If? WHAT IF? Seriously, I just don’t know.  These are the times that I hate that life does not have a road map, I hate not knowing and I hate that I have been shaken and that I’m struggling to be calm through all of this and live a normal life when inside I am screaming “OMG WHAT IF”.

Seriously.  OMG, WHAT IF.

Justified Rage

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My kids go to pre-school/daycare 3 days a week, and Hub stays home with them 2 days. It is actually a pretty good set-up, and we save the expense of full time care. The kids get the benefits of interacting with other children and preparing for kindergarten along with the benefits of having a SAH parent.

Being the parent who works is actually pretty hard on me—and not for the reasons you might think.

When I drop them off at school, I am done. I know that they will be fed, cared for, napped and engaged all day long. I don’t have to think about anything, (though I do occasionally call to see how Liv has eaten) I can watch them online, and I receive a handy dandy progress report when I pick them up at the end of the day.

On the days that Hub is home, it’s a little bit different. I need to give him props because he does just fine with the big kids—probably better than I would even as far as keeping them on a schedule. He does great with playing with Liv and keeping her happy. What he does not do though, is pay any attention to her schedule, what she has eaten, how she has napped or when she was changed. He calls me at work to find out what and when and how—even though I make all of the bottles before I leave in the morning, and leave out the fruit/vegetable du jour. Even though he knows she is on a 4-hour schedule as far as bottles are concerned. Even though I tell him before I leave when she should eat next.

This is more than frustrating for me, and it peaked yesterday, when at 4PM he called me at work to ask ME how much Liv had eaten so far……

I’m going to pause here to let you take that in.

How in the hell would I know??

We then argued because he couldn’t get past that if he was telling me there were 2 bottles in the fridge, I couldn’t tell him how much she had eaten. I couldn’t get past that HE was the one who fed her and he didn’t know the answer to his own question. AND then!! It turned out that there weren’t even 2 bottles left in the fridge—which explained A LOT!

This is insane, right?

The subject has been dropped, but not resolved. I think I just need to suck it up and realize that whether I am home or not, I am in charge of the baby. Regardless of it being ridiculously unfair.

I am going out tonight, right after work. She needs to have cereal, 2 medicines and one bottle before bed. Would I be wrong to ask him to fill out a sheet like daycare does?

Something tells me that wouldn’t go over very well.

Random Spewing

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So, I think I’m suffering mentally because of my lack of blogging. And your probably like, “What the hell can she even complain about? She’s sitting home all day long….”

Well, there is the issue of my paycheck, which has been screwed for the last 2 pay periods. For some reason they thought I was on an unpaid leave of absence, and therefore, paid me about $200 this past Friday. SO, I call them and argue, and they can research it, but who knows how long. So I have the admin in my office call and straighten it out. They tell her that they will overnight me a check on Monday for receipt today. I called today to check on it and they haven’t even cut the check. And it won’t be cut until today’s cycle, which means I will have it on Thursday. Which is BS. And yes, we moved things around and were able to cover our mortgage payments that came out on Monday, but that WAS SO NOT THE POINT. So about 15 minutes ago, someone from payroll called me to say “hey, we’ve shorted you about $1800 total, should we overnight it???” WHO THE FUCK HAVE I BEEN TALKING TO HERE????

Very frustrating.

What else? Lucy turned 3 yesterday, and insisted on chocolate cupcakes with pink frosting and GRAPE juice boxes for school. Cupcakes were eaten but the juice boxes were sent home. WTF. I don’t want grape juice boxes in my house. GRAPE…..HELLO! We surprised her with a trip to Applebee’s for dinner, because in her words “Applebees is my favorite restaurant!” and then we came home for cake and presents. Her size 3 & up Dora bike helmet was too small on her which made no sense to me, and limited her riding her new Dora bike to up and down the driveway….not that she could figure out the pedals anyway—the brakes just screwed her right up.

I weigh less than I weighed before I got pregnant, yet none of my clothes fit me. Seriously. Perhaps my hips will shrink back down. It’s really irritating. I was all triumphant about losing the pregnancy weight so quickly, and then some, because I’ve been really good about what I eat AND the baby and I have been out walking. This was a friggin slap in the face.

But, oh well, I’ll make due.

FIL. that’s all I’m even going to say. I could devote an entire website to him. But he helps me with the kids. And the baby. SO I won’t.

Lucy is still an emotional wreck. If you tell her she is doing something wrong as it relates to baby, she freaks the hell out. You can’t even look at her the wrong way.

And Bud is taking full advantage of me being tied down to a nursing baby. He’s been out of control while Hub is at work. I think we’ve gotten that worked out though.

Finally, Lucy’s birthday party is on Saturday, and I have nothing done. Not a single thing. I don’t even know who is coming. I need to order a cake.

I need to get down here and write more often, huh? I’m a mess.

Honestly, I can’t wait to get back to work. If it weren’t for the late night feedings and complete lack of sleep, I’d go back tomorrow. I’m not cut out to be at home. (And you know that when I get back to work, I’ll want to be home with Hub and the kids. Total catch 22. And I’m entitled to feel that way, I think.)

Things I’m Enjoying About Not Being Pregnant/Having a New New Baby

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1. Sleeping flat on my back and being able to breathe
2. No more Acid Reflux
3. Ankles as opposed to kankles.
4. Playing “name that tune” with the songs on the swing. One of them is “What Child is this”, my favorite Christmas hymn… Needless to say I have been walking around belting “This this is Christ the king….” in the middle of August.
5. Not feeling guilty about sitting around all day. I just have to pick up the baby. Nobody else can feed her!
6. Playing “name that grunt!” Poop? Pee? Hunger? Just angry baby???
7. Typing and driving with no belly in the way!!
8. Even though I still have a long way to go, I feel so THIN!!
9. Seeing Bud and Lucy take an active interest in the baby.
10. I didn’t leave the house for 10 days!!
11. Contemplating what to do with my hair (I’m pretty sure I’ll be cutting it all off and donating it. I hope they don’t mind if it smells like spit-up)
12. Reading everyone’s posts via phone and only feeling mildly guilty about not commenting.
13. Actually looking forward to going to work.
14. PRESENTS!!
15. Reliving Lucy’s babyhood through her clothes.
16. Nick at Night during late night feedings. (But when did Nick at Night become the “all Fresh Prince all the time channel???)
17. Able to smell baby’s head any time I want.
18. Breastfeeding Metabolism. YEAH!!!
19. Actually peeing instead of that annoying trickle when I was sure I had to go SO BAD!!
20. Of course, the baby herself.

Status Updates I Could have posted to Facebook, but Saved for Here

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SALY


…mysteriously has only one swollen ankle. Or Kankle.

…is glad that the third time around, she remembers that all of the hair she has grown on her belly does go away.


…practiced really great parenting on the 4th of July.


…had happy kids over the holiday weekend.

…doesn’t think that the Jon and Kate Plus 8 music video should make her blubber like a baby, but somehow, it does.


…is deathly afraid of water, and projected such fears on to her children. She eventually gave in though, and Bud lived.


…doesn’t give a rat’s ass about “his needs” when she is 36-weeks pregnant.


…is 36 weeks pregnant!!!! Her belly is bigger than her boobs!!


…looks like a sumo wrestler (with great hair).

…coughed so hard in the middle of the night that she threw up on the living room carpet. Cleaning up your own vomit at 2AM is very glamorous.


…is embarrassed when Lucy uses baby talk. Not because it’s stupid and annoying (which it is), but because she wants everyone to know how smart and well spoken her 3-year-old actually is.

…is maybe a little bit shallow.

…definitely needs more sleep.

…can’t wait to meet her new baby girl.

Signs That You Are SO Done with this Pregnancy Crap

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• You have to pee 453 times per day but nothing more than a trickle comes out. But somehow, if you cough or sneeze, it seems like a gallon leaks out.
• Even with DD’s you seem flat chested compared to your bulbous belly
• When your husband tells you that you look nice, you scoff as in “Yeah right!!”. When he says that he means it, you burst in to tears.
• You are glued to The Discovery Health Channel and are convinced that everything on TV is happening to you.
• Odd body parts have begun to sweat.
• You have run out of polite responses to comments such as “Oh yes, you are definitely bigger than yesterday!” or “Gosh, you are going to pop any second. Are you due in the next few days?” and instead say through gritted teeth “Actually I have at lease 6 more weeks to go. And until you said something, I didn’t really feel any bigger than I did yesterday. So thanks for your input.”
• Public bathroom stall doors bang you in the belly as you try to maneuver in to the stall.
• Your facilities manager, who has made arrangements for you to park right up front in Customer Parking so that you don’t have to park ¼ of a mile away next to the dumpsters every morning, thinks it is hysterical to make comments about calling off the tow trucks for that blue van up front every time he sees you.
• When your husband suggests that maybe your sonogram will reveal that the baby is of normal size and we really do have 8 weeks to go, you have to fight (hard) the urge to punch him in the gut.
• Because your first two pregnancies were so close together, acquaintances at work have sort of merged them together. You can see shock and disbelief when they realize it is your third. Then they make offhanded remarks such as “Wow, 3 under 4! You’ll have your hands full!” Listen bitches, my hands have been full since the first one was born. STFU.
• Your maternity pants no longer stay up and you are constantly showing ass crack.
• You’ve given up caring that your hair is way too long AND that you have WAY too many scraggly greys.
• When your son wants to know how much older he will be than his baby brother who will come AFTER this baby, you throw up a little bit in your mouth.
• You wonder if at this stage in the game, consuming mass quantities of caffeine would really do any harm to the baby. You begrudgingly stick to your 1-2 cups per day.
• You would like to be able to eat toast or a cracker without getting heartburn.
• You know that as miserable as you are, it will be *SO* worth it in the end.

30 Weeks

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Thirty Weeks is a real bitch–honestly. Think about it–I am not yet far enough where it could be “any time now”, however I have been pregnant for 30 weeks. An especially long time given how soon I found out. I likened the third trimester to post partum last week, and as much as I’d like to tell you this vacation has been a party, it’s mostly been ferociously dismal. Hub might use some more colorful words to describe it, but I will stick with dismal.

Lets keep the complaining to a minimum, shall we? Terrible cold, a bout of sciatica to end all sciatica, and just a general miserable disposition. Yes darlings, it is no mistake that I have not posted this week. You don’t want to hear from me.

Here is the good- I have only gained 22lbs so far, my blood pressure is low, swelling is minimal, and for the first time in (my) pregnancy history, I can still wear my regular shoes.

Yes, the good. We have a pretty big day trip planned wit the kiddos tomorrow, so hopefully more of the good to come.