Well for starters, ED is fine. Bruised and still a bit swollen, but fine. We took him to the toy store after the urologist for being so brave, and as he put his selected toy on the counter her told the clerk “this is for my wee-nah.” Oy.

I actually left work early on Wednesday due to my cold and called in on Thursday as well. ED’s issue on Friday gave me another day off. Late Saturday night, my throat started to hurt and by yesterday it was excruciating. I hardly slept last night from the pain but dragged myself in today to catch up. My tonsils are huge; like golf balls, and red and bumpy. Yippee. Hub commented though that this is the longest I’ve gone in a pregnancy without antibiotics. He’s right—with 6 UTI’s during my pregnancy with ED and strep throat 5 times with CA, this is pretty good. She’s finding other ways to kick my ass though without being sick.

Did I mention that it was 87 degrees here on Saturday? Yes, in Buffalo. Fun times in which Hub did not put the air conditioner in. Also a really great time to discover that NONE of my summer maternity wear fits me. I don’t understand because it is the exact same size AND from the same store as the rest of my stuff. 6 pair of capris and 2 pair of shorts. Do not fit. WTF. I spent the weekend in an old pair of Hub’s sweat shorts. And when I went to him, for comfort, I heard “it really is your own fault; did you think you hadn’t gained any weight in the 3 years since CA was born? It would be like me complaining that my t-shirts from last year don’t fit.” I told him how they were the same size and that it makes no sense…and also that I wasn’t planning on spending any money on summer clothes. His response “you have your $200 from Christmas.” Indeed I do, but I was saving it for back to work clothes in the fall. He gave in later and told me I don’t have to spend my money……but GAH!

What else? As I mentioned baby clothes and gear to Hub yesterday for probably the 657th time he said “are you freaking out? Even just a little bit? Are you freaking out??” YES I’M FREAKING OUT!! We are having another baby in like, 12 weeks!!!! Oy.

Finally, Hub and ED started demolishing the kitchen yesterday, and I spent Friday and Saturday moving everything out, essentials in to the living room, non-essentials in to the basement. Guess when the cabinet install is scheduled for?? 5/16. Like, a month away. I can’t live out of my living room for a month. We’re moving a few things back in to the kitchen for the time being. It just seems like such a long process. By the time it is over, I’ll be ready to give birth. O M G.

I am off to the doctor. Hopefully for some good drugs.

And Kid Pic for Fodder….

Let’s say I look like crap solely because I am sick….

This was Maple Weekend a few weeks ago….just before CA fell face first in to a mud puddle

• Sometimes the best part of my day is coming home and taking off my bra.
• I love knowing that if I forget to put on deodorant (it happens more often than you think)my friend Bev keeps an industrial sized spray can in her filing cabinet
• Oooey Goooey brownies purchased by my husband waiting at home for me
• I got a google hit yesterday for “Sexless Marriage” AWESOME
• Reading blogs and comments and so often thinking “ME TOO!!!”
• Looking forward to a steak and onion sub for lunch
• My kitchen is being gutted today, which in itself sucks, but means we are really doing this!!

Ok, I’ll admit it—I am not a perfect mother. You’re shocked, right? Truthfully, nobody is perfect but I do pride myself on being pretty darn patient with my kids. And trust me, when my 4-year-old has made 100 inane statements in a row, ending each one with “Riiiiight???” and expects a response each time, it gets tough to be patient. It is tougher still, when my 2.5 year old acts as if she can not go on another minute without her blankie—which she normally carries around and sucks on and integrates in to all of her play but that we have recently tried retiring to the bedroom during non-sleeping hours, and throws herself on the floor, weeping and carrying on like we killed her puppy. Still, I maintain.

I feel like I can handle most anything that comes up during the day. As evening falls though, it becomes harder and harder. My breaking point is always bedtime. I have no patience at all for the bedtime routine. I often find myself half-wishing that they’ll forget that they need to pee and brush their teeth, because I just don’t think that I can handle going through it for one more night. Invariably we do it though, and I stand in the bathroom with a forced smile on my face, willing myself to just.deal.with.it.already.

ED: I want the Spiderman Toothpaste
CA:I want ED’s toothpaste! NO, I want yours!! Wait I want MINES!
ED: (after 10 seconds of brushing) DONE! Didn’t I do a great job??
CA: (after 3 seconds of brushing) DONE!! DONE!! DONE!!

I bark at them “Nobody is done!! Brush your teeth the right way!!!”

They are finally finished and are now fighting over the cup of water.

“ED give the cup to your sister and go give kisses to Daddy and Grandpa. DO NOT DUMP THE WATER!! DO NOT DUMP THE WATER!! ED!! (dumps the water) GO GIVE KISSES!!!!!”

Ca insists on rubbing her toothbrush on the underside of the faucet as she is rinsing it off.

“Could you not do that???”

She sucks the water, and anything that was lingering on the faucet, out of the brush. She hands it to me and fills the water cup herself. I’m starting to feel like this was planned all along. Of course, she makes a mess all over the sink.

“JUST GO TELL DADDY AND GRANDPA GOODNIGHT!!”

We are finally in their room, and they are playing musical beds.

“Everyone in the right bed, right now. RIGHT NOW!!”

They scramble and kiss me good night. Choruses of “I neeeeed to be covered” are heard for the next 5 minutes.

I give in and cover them.

It happens again.

I cover them again and say “The next time I hear a sound, I am shutting this door and taking the light! I MEAN IT!!”

This usually works; the prospect of a dark room and a closed door (I mean, how horrible is that??)—ED may wander out to ask me a question after CA is asleep, but usually, it does work.

I don’t know why I get like this. Maybe it’s because I’ve had a long day and time for myself is…right…there—I can see it, I can taste it, but I just can’t get there. Or maybe it’s all the stress of the day building up in to these last few minutes that I have with the kids. Like the balance of the universe rests on them being asleep on time.

It doesn’t.

I always make sure the last thing I say to them is “I love you”.

But I sure do hate it that the end of our time together every night, is marred by my harshness—I mean, God, they’re just being kids. Still, I behave like a lunatic.

This my friends, is my confession. I am not perfect. But I can keep trying.

**Disclaimer to say that this is about my sex life. Reading further is up to you. **

Last weekend, I had a surge of energy for “activity”. Hub questioned me a bit, and I mentioned that I had heard this can happen in pregnancy, but that I’d never experienced it before. It was an eventful Easter weekend, in that respect, to say the least. And Hub was a happy, happy man.

It would stand to reason that Hub would wonder if this weekend would be the same; I can’t blame him. But it wasn’t. There were relations on Friday night, nothing spectacular, but not boring either. We were busy all day on Saturday, driving well south to experience “Maple Weekend” (and CA falling face first in to a mud puddle along with our van getting stuck in the muddy muddy parking lot ) as well as seeing a high school musical that our friend directed. By the time we got home, it was close to 11, I was exhausted and sore from being in the car so long, and it was all that I could do to stay awake long enough to get the kids in bed. Hub was disappointed; he thought something would happen. I apologized for being so tired, and politely said there was no way.

“But I drove both ways without even complaining!” he whined, as if that should buy him something. And I told him how much I appreciated it, and went to bed.

He made no secret of the fact that he had expectations yesterday either, questioning when the kids would be napping and so on. I wasn’t sure, since we had a lot to do, but assumed after we had gone shopping. Hub took CA and got the groceries, leaving me home to organize the entire pantry and work on laundry while ED watched the Kid’s Choice Awards. Not easy work for someone who IS NOT pushing 6-months-pregnant if you ask me……anyway, he came home and the kids went in for a late nap. CA fell right to sleep, but ED was not sleeping. Hub gave me the eyebrows. I told him I wasn’t keen on being buried under the covers wondering if ED was going to barge in. What Hub heard was “as soon as he is asleep, GAME ON!!!” We had a small lunch and I did some more work. ED was still awake, and Hub finally told him to lie quietly for 10 minutes and not to move. This apparently was our opportunity, and I declined, causing Hub to sulk around until dinner.

“But I’ve been so nice…I didn’t even complain when you went to bed last night……and I did drive all day yesterday……”

SERIOUSLY??

We have 2 kids and one on the way for god’s sake. It’s not like we are newlyweds.

I guess my question is how can I win in this situation? Apparently, last weekend, I made all of his dreams come true. And it wasn’t enough. Why couldn’t he just enjoy it for what it was instead of thinking that this was the pace of business for the rest of our lives? Apparently, I should have squelched my desire last week because all it did was backfire on me this week—all I did was make him want more. In my mind, it seemed like there should have been some sort of reprieve this week—honestly we did it more last weekend than we would typically do in 2 weeks.

I’m reasonably sure that we will never see eye to eye on this subject; though he did apologize last night and tell me that because of the events of last weekend, he was probably overly-excited—(he normally will ask for it a gazillion times, but be ok with, or even expecting to hear “NO!!”—he’s typically not a sulker). Ok then.

It doesn’t happen often, but I hate being made to feel like sex is a chore, or an obligation, or my duty as a wife.

I’m usually happy to oblige darling, but my duty right now is to grow your child. You’re going to have to deal with it.

It’s hard when you’re trying not to think about something; trying not to write about something; trying not to let it bother you. Hard indeed. Hard to see someone who is self destructive without realizing it; falling back in to old habits; thinking nobody knows.

I’m glad that I am not there now, dealing with it on a daily basis like I did for so long, but when I see you; talk to you, I know immediately. You may be able to hide it from others, but it was my life for so long, you can not hide it from me.

I saw you. You didn’t think anyone did—but I did.

I don’t say anything—what would I say? How would I say it? What right do I really have? In the grand scheme of things, it bears no impact on my life now, however, knowing and seeing takes me right back and again, I am 12, 13, 14 and helpless. Unable to help you. Unable to DEAL with you—at all. I feel like shutting down and pretending and there is no good reason for it.

I am not there.

And I won’t be there.

I can’t.

I hate that it is still affecting me.

I just wonder if you will celebrate this year as you have in years past, for maybe the last 10.

I stopped counting 5 years ago when you’d decided it was ok to indulge a little bit.

It’s not ok; never has been. I think it’s apparent. Not to you though.

Look where you are now.

My grandmother had a thing about pink flamingos. She didn’t like them at all. I’m not sure who bought her the first one, but it ended up that she had quite a few, the majority of which were kept in her very pink bathroom. It kind of became a family joke, and despite her initial dislike, I’m pretty sure that she grew fond of them over the years.

I haven’t thought very much, if at all, about flamingos since her passing 2.5 years ago. Why would I, anyway?

CA and I went to Old Navy over the weekend because I had to return a skirt that was much too big. I told her that she could pick something out instead, and she insisted on getting an outfit for her baby sister. She scoured the baby section picking things up, and putting them down for a good fifteen minutes, until she came upon the perfect items. She picked them up and beamed at me “This Mama! This is for my sister!” She had picked a stuffed pink flamingo along with a short sleeved creeper that has a small flamingo embroidered on the upper left hand side. I asked her why she picked this in particular (she also insisted on buying shoes for the baby….but anyway) and she looked at me and said “This is just what I was looking for!”

I didn’t think much about it until telling my mom what she had bought. I kept saying pelican for some reason, and then said……”no, not a pelican……Gramma’s birds……Flamingos!!” All at once it kind of clicked. She’s watching us. She is looking out for this baby. I have to believe that somehow, she was there when CA picked these things out.

My grandmother never met CA; she died 2 months after she was born. Nobody told me how bad it was; or that it might be close to the end. I was dealing with a 20-month old and a newborn, so even if someone had expressed how serious it was, I don’t know if I would have caught on. My grandmother had what I would call an obsession with baby’s hands. She always told me that they were the most beautiful part of a baby. Soon after she passed away, CA started sleeping with her hands folded delicately by her face. She did it for a few months, and then stopped. Again, I’m sure it was my Gramma.

CA at 6 months

She loved ED so much, and I can only imagine how great she would have been with CA, my cousin’s baby girl, and our new baby girl. It’s not fair to these girls that they will never know her. Sometimes it surprises me how much I still miss her. It helps to know that she is out there though, watching us, knowing our children, and watching them grow.

“Lids down, I count sheep
I count heartbeats
The only thing that counts is
that I won’t sleep
I countdown, I look around….”

1. My mother is fine, Thank God. Thanks for all of your well wishes; it was scar tissue. Hopefully, this will be what she needs in order to push her in the directions of quitting smoking. She told me yesterday that she would. I am skeptical.
2. ED participated in the entire Tae Kwon Do class yesterday and did a great job. He got his uniform and everything, which is adorable. I will take a photo soon. It’s going to cost me $99 a month, but I think it’s worth it. We went to Friendly’s for dinner to celebrate.
3. By the time we got home my headache had turned in to a full-blown migraine. I put the kids to bed and passed out on the couch. I woke up confused—I didn’t even realize hub had gone to work–around 10, fed the cats and went to bed.
4. By 11:30 CA was in my bed snoring away.
5. At 12:30 I put her back in her bed after I woke up coughing up stomach acid. I forgot to take a Pepcid before bed. I propped myself up on the couch, watched a bit of Craig Ferguson (is it odd that I find him very attractive?? I think it’s his humor…something about him is sexy) and went back to sleep.
6. Hub came home around 1:30 and insisted on shouting a conversation from the bedroom where he was changing in to the living room.
7. ED was up at 2:00 wanting to lay with me on the couch. I asked him to lay on the loveseat but when I woke an hour later, he was curled up in between my legs.
8. CA was up again at 5, upset that I had put her back in bed. She fell asleep on my chest, ED curled back up in between my legs and I was wide awake.
9. I must have fallen asleep at some point because the alarm startled me—and I felt exhausted.
10. When I complained to Hub that the kids were crabby and further stated that if anyone had the right to be crabby, it was me he said “I’m not trying to be mean, but it is your own fault……” He’s right. I should let them both scream; perhaps lock them in their room so that we can’t hear them and get some good, uninterrupted sleep. I feel like I need to point out that he sleeps like a king during all of this, the bed to himself with extra pillows. Not that the kids would even go to him in the middle of the night if he offered……but still.
11. In the midst of all of this, I dreamt of my ex again last night. That I was in a bar with 2 girlfriends and he was there. We split a pizza. Hub drove me out to his house the next day, and we walked through the mall and had more pizza. Seriously, what the hell?
12. I need more caffeine that pregnancy will allow.

*lyrics and title courtesy of BNL

Vernacular – ver’nak’u’lar: 1. The everyday language of the people in a country or region, distinct from the official or spoken language. 2. The distinctive vocabulary or language of a profession, group or class.

From the time I was young, vernacular, as I suppose you would call it, has interested me. I first took notice in the words my extended, and very Polish family spoke; words that were not spoken in our everyday life. There are many examples, but the first one that comes to mind is my grandmother referring to her couch as “the davenport”. When I asked my parents why, I was just told that different people used different words. Well, ok then.

When we moved to the town I consider “my hometown” when I was 11, I was first introduced to the term “Duh”. The kids I went to school with inserted it in just about every sentence. “Duh, I forgot my homework!” “And then I was like ‘OH DUH!!’” “Duh” was probably more widespread than I had realized at the time, however coming from a strict catholic school with children who were sheltered it was probably the least offensive of the words that I learned that year which I had never heard before.

The language of the town we live in now, is something else. If you are an old school townie—like my father-in-law, the words “this, that and the” are pronounced “dis, dat and da”. This phenomenon is actually something my husband is sometimes a party to (when he’s not paying attention) having lived in this town for more than half of his life. You won’t hear people say “Those are good cookies!” but instead “Them (or dem as it may be) are good cookies!” Sandwich is pronounced “sandridge” or “sanrich” and you will often hear “batteries” pronounced as “bat-trees”. You don’t go out for a fish fry; you “go for a fish”. The biggest thing is the use of “ain’t it” at the end of a sentence or in completely odd context. It is typical in our area to hear something like this: “We need to get some milk from the store, ain’t it?” Or in a conversation between 2 people: Person A says “That guy comes around here a lot” and Person B will respond “Ain’t it?” Seriously. Hub and I started inserting it in to our conversations years ago because we thought it was hysterical, and now, it is kind of second nature to us….regardless of how incredibly wrong it is.

You notice things like this in your travel as well. When we were in New Hampshire on our honeymoon, there were many, but the one that sticks out is people saying “How you are?” (or in the NE accent, “how you ahhhh?”) instead of “How are you.” When my brother lived in PA last year he was appalled at the dropping of “to be” in most sentences. People would say “the car needs washed” or “the dog needs walked” or my personal favorite, “the laundry needs done.”

Today I put the call out to you who live all over this country and Canada, those of you who have traveled extensively, or any of you that want to respond. Blow my mind with what you have heard. Better yet, blow my mind with what you have said!

After ED had asked despairingly before bed why CA can stay dry and hold her pee and he can’t (which led to a long discussion about our bodies working differently…) AND peed the bed for the second time last night, Hub announced “Maybe he’s not ready….”

And there was much rejoicing.

I stayed home today with a migraine and am going back to bed….just needed to share the news.