So, here’s the rub. I got trouble. Right here in Minta City. Trouble, which starts with T which rhymes with P which stands for MIL. And also doesn’t rhyme with S which stands for Sister. But does rhyme with G which stands for, well, G. OK, I think I’ve played out this Music Man gag long enough. The point, I got some shit bothering me. Big shit. Here’s a list:
– Sister confirmed yesterday that she is 10 weeks pregnant with #3. There is a new C baking. I am 12 weeks pregnant with long awaited and worked for #1 (living, but 7 overall). Yes, really. Un-fucking-believable is right! Do I think it was on purpose… yes. Am I pissed… yes. Does this completely fuck me in terms of support and joy from my family, shit which I have waited a really fucking long time for… YES. Hurt, pissed, alone, need to scream now. More on this later. It dseserves it’s own post.
– MIL being a real cuntwad, as per usual. Is now rubbing in Aunt C’s face that she’s going to have a grandbaby, too and C won’t be the only one and blah blah blah. Hurting Aunt C’s feelings IS NOT COOL. As far as I’m concerned MIL doesn’t exist and Aunt C is Nana C. G is not fond of my attitude. Now wants everything to be peachy with his bitchface, twatwaffle mother. I suggest if she even wants civility that she get on the apology I requested before she stressed me out and my baby died. Apologizing for that stress would go a long way towards civility as well. I will never be friends with her again. NEVER.
– Last does of Metformin last night. Scared of impact on Sprout. The Fear is making an effort at returning.
– We have a house “on the market” see it’s in quotes because G has yet to go do the small bit of shit left to be done for the realtor to get it listed. There’s always something more important. Fact: he doesn’t want to deal with it. Fact: If it doesn’t sell by 5/1 we’re in deep shit with our mortgage insurance. Fact: We stand to pocket over $10k+ by doing 4-6 hours worth of work and spending $150-$200. But it’s never a good time. It’s a good time to dick around on Craig.s.list, or not play games with me and Big C or not communicate plans for the day, anyway PISSED. Very, very pissed. Even more pissed because I expressesd how disappointed that I am in the way today is shaping up and the response “Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean you get to treat everybody like shit.” Oh, excuse the fuck out of me. I actually thought being pregnant meant that hubs would be more helpful, esp in the 10-20 minutes or so after throwing up. I was under the impression that it meant someone other than myself would be shoveling snow. I also thought it meant my husband might take 20 goddamn minutes to read up on the condition, give a shit and decide helping out more would be good, as am currently not feeling the best. But apparently no! It means get bitched at for not feeling great and wanting to make plans. You know the day after sister drops her little shit bomb. PISSED. I am really starting to get scared that when the baby comes it will be “me and the baby” and “him” as two separate entities. Oh, but he did do some laundry. You know, one of the things I am capable of doing. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the help. Would have appreciated 1) working on old house, 2) playing with Big C, 3) making plans or 4) finally taking me to lunch at Indian Restaurant I’ve been craving for 3 weeks a hell of a lot more.
OK, I’ll quit bitching. I undserstand that G is taking a bit of a hit because I’m so upset about Sister and MIL. But, for fucks sake, if you know somebody is upset and feeling like hell why would you not try to do everything you could to help them out and make things easier? I don’t get it.
Really quiting bitching, now. Have to go shovel snow at the other house.