I’m tired to day and very cranky thanks to 3rd trimester blues. I swear, for me, the 3rd trimester is worse than the post partum period. Of course, I write that and it seems harsh considering I wasn’t even sure that I loved Lucy all that much until she was close to 2-months old. It’s probably safer to say that when I’m in it, the third trimester is worse—my mood is definitely worse than post partum. And I am so in it right now—starving, but I can barely eat because there is no room and if I eat too much I seriously can not breathe not to mention the heartburn. The top of my stomach, under my ribs, is falling asleep. I have to pee every 10 minutes, but only a trickle comes out, and I have horrible insomnia which is making it hard to hold my head up here at work.

I’m not going to bitch (anymore) today though–hey, I’m on vacation starting Wednesday! I’m going to post some photos of our trip to see Thomas the Train yesterday, as well as kitchen progress!! WOOT!!

Bud working on the tear down—the door to the left, to FIL’s apartment is no longer there:

New cupboards, lights and countertops—the right of the sink is where FIL’s door used to be:

We have some plaster to take down on the other side still and we are moving the entrance from the living room in to the kitchen over to accommodate a breakfast nook. More photos of that soon. We also have to paint, do the electric, plumbing and floor. I can’t wait until we are 100% out of the 70’s!

Here are photos of all of us at Thomas yesterday. It was a bleak day; very cold and rainy, but the kids and their cousin J had a lot of fun.

I typically blog from work, so here, my friends, are some photos of my very messy desk/office.

Let’s start with the full panned effect, shall we?? This is my office from left to right:

Some close ups of the actual desk:

And finally, my piles and junk, just for you, Tessie!

So what do you think?

I am tired and cranky today. Seriously, just pissy and miserable.

I didn’t get home until almost 10 last night and while both kids were in bed, neither was asleep. Then I had to clear out the kitchen, again, because when we don’t work on it for a few days things migrate back in there. Hub needs to hang some more drywall and finish some electrical things, and OH, paint before Friday morning. Bud was up at 2AM and I slept miserably all night because it was hot and uncomfortable.

Work is ridiculously busy, with having to give assessments to and interview 7 candidates for a position I have open and need to fill before my vacation, which starts a week from today, in between my regular meetings. I also keep forgetting that I have to work this Saturday, potentially my last one before my maternity leave, which sucks to the highest degree.

The biggest source of my frustration is my FSA dependent care account which refuses to reimburse me for my childcare costs, though they have certainly deducted them from my paycheck, because they are idiots and don’t understand my receipts. As of tomorrow they will owe me $416.00. Everyone who answers the phones there is an idiot, so I spent my morning writing them a very strong-worded letter (which I am very proud of) which I faxed, emailed and mailed a hard copy of with extreme documentation of why, exactly, they suck. The benefit of this program is that $5k per year of my childcare expense is not taxable income. But the pain and frustration these a-holes are causing me, is making it so not worth it.

Today is the official start of my third trimester as I am 28-weeks along. Technically, 12 weeks to go, though I say 10. Getting the Pregnancy Weekly email this morning freaked me the hell out. Still so much to do! I could hyperventilate just thinking about it. It is time to make lists, lots of lists. I feel very disorganized this time around. I can’t even talk about it anymore because I can not breathe.

We are going out tonight to buy knobs for the cupboards and drawers, possibly a faucet, and we’ve decided to buy a new dishwasher. Nothing is wrong with ours, but it is a portable model. The conversion kit to make it fit under the counter costs over $100. We figure if we are spending money anyway, we may as well buy a whole new one. The old one is still in good condition, maybe 7 years old. We may try to sell it.

Speaking of my husband, he has this annoying habit of putting mouthwash in his mouth, coming out and putting his shoes on, and then spitting it in to the kitchen sink. I find this repulsive and I can not get him to stop. For some reason, the act of him spitting all over my dishes—even if they are dirty—is disgusting. Plus, the smell does not go away and it makes me so sick. I’m thinking of banning mouthwash in our house. He could probably do worse things though, right?

Mother’s Day was decent—nothing spectacular, but I wasn’t really expecting spectacular, so there you go. Actually, minus Thomas the Train (which we are doing this weekend), it wasn’t much unlike last year. I slept in until about 10 and then Hub went to get me a Starbucks. We had cinnamon rolls and then he cooked eggs, toast, potatoes and sausage. I lazed around for most of the day, and then Hub and I went to see Iron Man when the kids went in for their nap. He took care of baths and showers and I was in bed before 9:30.

Saturday was a completely different story though. I had mentioned that I would be watching our friend’s kids while he helped Hub with the kitchen. I could make a blanket statement and say that I don’t like other people’s kids—but really that isn’t true. I love my 2.5-year-old and 1-year-old nieces. I think it’s about how well you know a kid, or how well a parent has educated you on said kid’s idiosyncrasies, that really figures in. Bud had a Tae Kwon Do Expo so I took all 4 kids with me to that and Hub met us there so he could see Bud do his stuff and get right out of there. I don’t know what it was—they don’t get out much (??) but these kids acted as if they have never been in a public place. M, the 9-y-o girl was all over the place, trying to win prizes, begging to break a board………VOLUNTEERING TO DO A DEMONSTRATION……you name it. J, the 6-y-o boy skulked around, refusing to take off his jacket or hood and was just a plain whiner.

When we finally got out of there, I took them all to McDonald’s with the play place. They were well behaved until it came time to eat. J refused to eat any of his meal, not even the fries, because there were onions on his cheeseburger. He whined the entire time that they screwed up his whole order so he was not eating. M made passive comments about not caring for chocolate milk. “You know, typically, I wouldn’t order chocolate milk for myself. First I would get pop. And if I couldn’t have pop, I would order regular milk 1000 times before I ordered chocolate…” and so on. (I get it—I should have asked them in detail how they liked their happy meals. I shouldn’t have assumed that a cheeseburger means a cheeseburger and that a chorus of “CHOCOLATE MILK!!!” does not mean that everyone wants chocolate milk.)

From there we went to Starbucks because, well, if I couldn’t have alcohol, that must be the next best thing, and the borrowed children were whining from the back that they were thirsty and how could I expect them to run around and play without something to drink. It was rather warm and their father had dressed them in long pants and long sleeves……so I purchased 2 bottles of water at $1.80 a piece—one for Bud and Lucy and the other for M and J to share. Then I had to hear about how they both like to drink a lot so did they really have to share? Yes. Aunt Sara can you put my hair in a pony tail? No. Aunt Sara I’m hot can I take off my sweater and just be in my undershirt? I don’t care.

We headed back to my plaster-covered home around 2:30 and I lay on the couch while Lucy took a nap on my shoulder and the other 3 played with Bud’s V-Smile. I fielded “I wish I could go outside and play Better Batter Baseball………” with sorry, we are in for the day now (read you are not breaking Bud’s toys) for the next two hours until they finally went home.

After grocery shopping and a late dinner, I didn’t make it to bed until after 11. My day had started with Lucy in gymnastics at 9, so it was a very long day; a day that I was glad to have over with.

When I type it all out, the perspective is that really, they aren’t bad kids. And it’s true, they’re not. But they sure aren’t my kids.

P.S. on the kitchen—one door moved one to go. Half way there on the dry wall. Plaster walls SUCK.

I came home yesterday to find our kitchen 100% gutted—which is good considering our install is on for next Friday. Here are my concerns:

• You can see my bathtub from my kitchen—not actually in to the bathroom, but the entire underside of the tub.
• If you look under the tub, you can see my basement.
• What the hell is stopping the tub from falling in to the basement? One very large beam.
• Where the ceiling was torn apart, you can see the old roof which hasn’t been in use since, like, 1963.
• 2 items we collected from the rafters: a very old nipple for a baby bottle and piles of silly string. The only thing we can guess is that prior tenants shoved them in the walls upstairs and they drifted down.
• Hub insists that as a child he shoved many of his sister’s toys in the same walls. If doll heads fall out of my ceiling, I am leaving for good.
• My stove is covered in plaster and dust. I mean everywhere. This can not be good.
• Despite the use of a plastic partition, my living room is also full of dust.
• I’m pretty sure Hub isn’t making me a fancy breakfast on Sunday.

This is the worst project ever. Don’t buy a house that was built during WW2. Also—don’t remodel your kitchen.

Hub and I were talking the other night, while at dinner with the kids at IHOP, about whether or not we were planning on doing a family photo prior to the baby’s arrival (along with how that relates to buzzing off Bud’s hair). I mentioned that we had one done prior to Lucy being born to remember our little family. Hub made some sort of comment to the effect of “doing it before Olivia comes and ruins our happy family.” He said it with a smile, and was definitely joking but my feelings were hurt nonetheless. There is after all, some truth in most jokes.

I can’t lie though; similar thoughts have crossed my mind. I think that what he said shocked me so much because he put in to words what I have been feeling, on some level, for the last 27 weeks. What if this isn’t the right time for another baby? What if having a new baby causes issues for Bud and Lucy? What if I can’t love her the way that I love them?

I think that these unspoken thoughts; the what ifs, are normal in this type of situation, or honestly, in any situation where you are preparing for a big change.

I remember feeling exactly the same way, maybe even more so before Lucy was born. Bud was such a Mama’s Boy. He would only be 19-months old when she came. What if I was cheating him out of his time to be the baby? What if he was jealous? How was I ever, in a million years, going to love Lucy even a fraction of the amount I loved Bud? I had many moments where even though I was going through the motions, buying all of the pink stuff, preparing for our girl, where I would think to myself “I’m not even sure that I want another baby.”

And then before we knew it, she was here. The first 6 weeks was hard. She didn’t nurse nearly as often as Bud had, but was the type of baby who wanted to be held or carried constantly. I always had her in the bjorn wile I was tending to Bud, cooking dinner, you name it. She was like an appendage. Oddly though, Bud wasn’t overly jealous. He found a way to weasel in to my lap while she was nursing. And regardless of what was going on, Lucy was placed in her bouncy seat or swing while I put Bud to bed every night. She might fuss or spit out the paci, but I felt like it was important to keep at least that part of his routine, after so much had been uprooted, sacred. And it worked.

It took me close to 2 months before I felt bonded to Lucy, after I spent 3 solid days with her at the children’s hospital for a meningitis scare. From that point forward, it was as if she had always been there. And she and Bud are the best of friends (on most days). The biggest relief though was the love—it really just grows to encompass both kids. I love them both so much for different reasons. I love them differently, but truly, the amount is the same.

So what does this all mean for baby number 3? Well, for one, I have time on my side—Bud will be 4.5 and Lucy will be nearly 3 when she arrives. We have talked about the baby and my belly and everything that goes along with it for months now. They have each other, and also have the ability to understand why Mommy is tied up. More importantly, I have experience now. I’ve reprioritized twice, by adding our first baby and then his sibling. If I can handle two, I can handle anything, right? And surely, like her brother and sister before her, she will be an excellent addition to our family.

Knowing this all doesn’t stop the “what if” thinking, but I do know that I…We….All of us love her already.

By the time I had even fed the kids dinner on Thursday, it was 7:00, but I decided to take them out anyway to buy Hub a gift. WE went to Target first, despite Bud’s protests that we needed to go to the train store. I scoured the kitchen section because I could remember him saying that he really wanted something but for the life of me, I could not remember what. We ended up buying him 2 pillows (because he always steals mine) (and also, Shauna I totally thought of you because they are the generic $3.50 Target brand pillows, but we love them!!) and I let each kid pick out their own card for him. Bud went with Spongebob and Lucy picked a singing Dora card, which is probably the most annoying piece of paraphernalia I have ever encountered, but whatever makes Lucy happy makes all of us happy if you know what I’m saying. From Target we went to the hobby shop to buy Hub some train crap, which really was Bud’s way of saying he wanted to go there to watch the massive train displays and make them go……but Lucy picked out some scenery and Bud picked out a nice passenger station—after I talked him out of a $40 lighthouse.

The next morning, which was Hub’s actual birthday, I took the kids to school and went over to Bed Bath and Beyond to see if anything struck me. I’m not sure why I was having such a block as to what I wanted to get him (I’d decided to put off the major expensive gift until Father’s Day to avoid using credit) but after perusing the store for a good hour, I finally found it— a stove-top grill pan, the kind that fits over 2 burners. The first one I saw was $80!! I’m not sure how that is even possible, but I found a nice one for $35. Once home, we lazed around until it was time to go to lunch at the Casino Buffet. I ate so much shrimp and cornbread and….well, you name it! It was so good, and they have some of the best coffee around. After we got the kids, MIL came over for cake and gifts. I think that Hub had a really good day.

And as a bonus, I got a fancy breakfast a la the new grill pan on Saturday morning. I did laundry for the majority of the day, while Hub worked in the kitchen. I finally washed all of the baby clothes and organized them in to categories and sizes and I feel a lot better knowing what we have and what we need (mostly sleepers and onesies) I caught up on our laundry as well since Hub seemed to think it was important for those of us who are already here to have clean clothes. Pfft. Whatever.

And yesterday, we saw Avenue Q with my Brother and SIL. It was…ok. I had already heard the majority of the music and there wasn’t much more. It was enjoyable, but I felt like the cursing was thrown in more for shock factor than to enhance the plot. There was also a very uncomfortable puppet love scene……I guess it was an experience. And all I could picture the whole time was the guy from Johnny and the Sprites (with his large, straight very white teeth) who was the original of one of the characters. The biggest mistake was wearing heels downtown—I could barely walk last night.

I suppose that is it, in a nutshell. I’ll be glad to take it easy next weekend. Today has already been decent; I bought this:

And I am on my way out to Target and Payless to get some comfy shoes. A Monday with lunch break shopping = B O N U S!!

• I’m irritated today, for a number of reasons. Oddly enough, the 1st is my Google Reader, which is just plain not updating. Come on GOOGLE get it together. SO……for those of you with a sitemeter, I am not stalking you, just wondering if perhaps you have graced us with a post today.
• Both kids were ridiculous before we left the house this morning. Lucy burst in to tears because Bud told her she was not having any toast. I don’t know why she gets so upset when it is clear that Bud, the 4-year-old does not make the decisions. Then Bud freaked out when I told him to knock off the crap or he was spending the evening in his bed. Thankfully they were both calmed down and perfectly chipper by the time we got to school—I guess they needed their breakfast to metabolize?
• After drop-off I went to Tim Horton’s in the mood for something different than a bagel and a black coffee. I decided on an Iced Coffee (double double) and a muffin. Seriously all three of my muffin choices were sold out. So I settled on the onion bagel with extra butter, AKA “the usual” [fun fact, hub likes to order “the usual at random restaurants where he actually doesn’t have a usual and freak out the servers….] When I got to the window, and I’ll admit I was clearly annoyed, I asked to make sure there was, in fact extra butter. Bitch rolled her eyes at me but did check on it. Of course, said bagel was nearly dry and I had to fight with my self not to turn around and drive back and throw the bagel in that chick’s face.
• I was dealing with an issue at work today that either impacted like, 20 customers or 8000 customers. I was waiting to find out the impact before communicating. I got scolded for not letting the higher-ups know about it. You know what? I DON’T CARE!
• Hub stated that I am treating Lucy like a second class citizen because I haven’t found her a new gymnastics class yet. We make every effort to get Bud to Tae Kwon Do (um, WE don’t, HE does. That is out of my jurisdiction), so why shouldn’t we do the same for her? Is one week really going to make a difference? I mean he actually said that!! In any case, I found and secured a new place today with roughly the same time for class, so those other crappy moms will probably be there. How nice for ME!!
• My parents are both working Sunday and I really wanted them to watch the kids while we go see Ave Q. Not their fault, but annoying just the same.
• Still no B-day gift for Hub. I procrastinated and was going on my lunch break tomorrow, but now my newly engaged cousin is stopping by on her lunch so……GAH!
• I could go tonight, but my other cousin is borrowing my van. I hate going out after work anyway, so I suppose it is a blessing in disguise.
• I am ready to saw my freaking leg off; my hip hurts so badly. I just want to sleep in my bed and can only get comfy on the couch. What the hell was I thinking, getting knocked up again? (the reward in the end is well worth it….the reward in the end is well worth it) I’m just so tired…….and whiny, apparently.
• At least tomorrow is Thursday and I am off on Friday and it will FINALLY be May.

I had some awesome eggplant parmesan yesterday; we were out to dinner with my parents. Sadly, it wasn’t just for fun, but because I was accompanying them to a wake for a family friend who passed away on Friday. W was our neighbor for about 3 years; he and his wife and kids lived next door to us when we lived in the city and our families were truly the best of friends. There wasn’t a day that went by that we were not together, my mom and his wife, L being especially close. We both moved to the suburbs in the late eighties and while we were in touch for quite some time, gradually grew apart. Short of Christmas cards, we didn’t hear from each other too much—the last time I saw any of them was at my wedding in 2002—but that didn’t make them less important in my life. W was 55 and had an aneurism and the stress on his body caused a massive heart attack, according to the limited details we got. He left behind his wife and 4 children.

I thought about not going to the wake; with the frequency of our visits, I could probably live my life blissfully unaware that he was gone—it wouldn’t affect me. I decided to go though, along with my parents and middle brother and I am glad that I did. If I were in that situation, I would hope that they would be there to support me.

I find it amazing how differently people deal with death. His wife was back and forth between 2 extremes; first saying in her thick Italian accent “you take it with a grain of salt and move on; what else can you do?” and then sobbing hysterically. The oldest daughter, my childhood playmate, was bubbly, greeting everyone with kisses and smiles, really holding it together. You could almost call her exuberant. The second oldest was more subdued, but acted much the same as her sister. The youngest two did not socialize, but stayed with their group of friends. My mother has a thing about touching the corpse. I have never been to a wake where she hasn’t touched the dead. It’s weird, right? Me, I always behave the same—stare off in to space and try not to think about it. Try not to think about having to bury my own father some day. Engage with the family and offer them my support. The get the hell out of there.

Hub has told me on several occasions not to make a big deal when he dies. He doesn’t see the point in dragging anything out; just get it over with. Most importantly, he wants me to move on with my life. He is adamant about it. Obviously, I don’t want to think about that stuff, but I wonder if I could respect his wishes? To be strong and not grieve?

Seriously, I don’t even want to know.

The windows are open and a warm breeze circulates through the house. Wind chimes clang in the breeze and a neighbor’s lilac bush is blooming. The smell of charcoal barbeques floats through the warm air and children laughing and screaming can be heard throughout the neighborhood. My children come to me for hugs with warm and rosy cheeks. Their heads smell sweet; full of sunshine and sunscreen. I drink it in as the sun kisses my face and brings out my freckles.

It is 87 degrees, yet it is only April.

We are expecting snow next week.