I am fresh off of one hell of a week. There were plenty of baby related highs, for which I am immensely grateful. But, there were also some lows/frustrations that are bugging me still…
Work: Even though I worked overtime (I am a salaried employee, i.e. every hour over 40 is a donation to the company) in June, including working on weekends and rearranging my personal schedule to accommodate clients on multiple occasions, my boss decided that because I didn’t have all of the details of that time entered into our project tracking software he was going to hold my paycheck. He did not inform me of this decision. (This in and of itself, illegal… But company has less than 50 employees so the great State of Ohio could give a bigger shit.) When he found out that in fact I had entered it all (admittedly late) he forgot to release the hold on my paycheck. So, I woke up Thursday morning to $8 in the bank. I didn’t go to work on Thursday. G wanted me to stay home Friday as well, but I felt that I needed to keep up with my clients… So, let’s see we have passive aggressive game playing, creating a hostile working environment. Six more weeks. Six more weeks.
Family: This actually happened this week… Mother wants me to come swimming with her and the boys. Oh, but one of the boys is sick with “heat” and doesn’t want to go and the other is a video game head and doesn’t want to go. So, let’s just go out to eat. On her side of town because heaven forbid we drive 15 minutes to eat dinner. Except of course Big C wants Uncle G to come, but Uncle G didn’t come with Minta to the other side of town because he didn’t want to go swimming. So, can we meet in the middle? No, Big C wants to go to a restaurant that only has three locations, all of which are an equally long (again, 15 minutes) drive. And even though it’s child friendly and the kids will eat the food, Nana doesn’t like it. So, I get to hear her bitch about a decision made by the sister, G and Big C. Except when we get to the restaurant I find out Big C is sick with dehydration/sun poisoning, not “heat” and has a throbbing headache. So naturally his mother orders him water soda to drink. He takes three bites of his food and literally vomits all over the table. Because he’s that sick. But hey, he’s all right, she’ll just take him home and give him a bath and some water, he’ll be fine… Yes, I would have taken him to the hospital and no, I would not have under any circumstance taken him to a restaurant in that condition. On the bright side, I got to hear Little C make vomit noises all the way home.
Dogs: Yeah, I’m about done with the pug. Like DONE. She has shat on the carpet everyday this week. EVERYDAY. What else has happened this week? I kicked her out of the bed. This is retaliation. I am pissed. PISSED. I also stopped making their food. Have seen dramatic decrease in Waldo’s aggression, but dramatic increase in pug stubbornness. Seriously folks, I’m just not willing to invest much more money or effort into this dog, she really might be on her way out.
Baby Shower #2: My mother completely dropped the ball. My sister has picked up the ball. They are now fighting over it. And, also, have scheduled it for 8/21. Yes, past full term. Please stay tuned for stories of missed my shower because was giving the birth at the time… Also, stayed tuned for stories of, had to return a bunch of shit in October because I had to buy the necessities BEFORE the baby was born and received a bunch of tiny shit/duplicates with no time to return it before the baby was born. (I swear I’m not as big an ungrateful bitch as I’m coming off, just frustrated…)
The Hubs: Is far too spoiled. Life with him and newborn is going to suck the life right out of me. I have always prided myself on being a good wife, but I think I did not do myself any favors by spoiling him so much… (Again, not as bitchy as I sound, just frustrated over little shit, like you know, having to arrange for dinner EVERY night and heaven fucking forbid I need a clean dish to do it, or have planned something he doesn’t feel like at the time. How to manage that on a single income, I don’t freaking know.) Plus, as I’m getting closer to NEEDING him to take care of me more, I’m hearing a lot more sarcastic comments. For instance, as we’re watching a hypnobirthing dvd of real hypnobirths I commented on one dad who had it down. The man was rotating three washcloths and making sure she had the coolest one on her head and he was rubbing her back and give her lots of encouragement. I simply made the comment “Wow, this guy’s got this labor coach thing down!” G’s response? “We better turn this shit off, don’t want you getting any ideas…” Was he joking? Sure. But, still… grrr!
OK, all done bitching.
I am 32 weeks pregnant with a healthy baby. None of the shit above takes away from that. Nothing takes away from that.
(Still practicing the Hypnobirthing!!!)