Monday, May 10, 2010

"Mom, I'm sorry you're so mad."

Everyone says I'm close to delivering. I hope so. I have been desperately trying to get things finished. Of course, not everything is, but it's probably good enough. My husband is irritated with me because I'm irritated with him (because he's not doing the things I NEED him to do, obviously.) My daughter has been loud and talkative and energetic and kind of driving me nuts, but she has also figured it out, so spends a lot of time apologizing for making me mad. I'm really trying not to be mad and to enjoy my last days of having only one kid, but it's hard. I am trying to hug her a lot and tell her I'm sorry I'm cranky. We sing songs. Tonight, she told me, "I love you, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck and a barrel and a PEEP."

Confession: I think I have PTSD for colic. Is that possible? (Please God. This one? No colic, OK?) My hunch is there won't be colic. But I've been wrong before. And I'm scared of the colic. It was so bad, really. Colic sucks.

Another confession: I spent about an hour alone in bed Saturday night crying because I miss my mom. It's been twelve years now. I wish she was here. I know she's watching, and she's proud of me, but I wish I could talk to her. She totally would have helped with the slipcover. And my freezer would be full of homemade food, not Wegman's premade (which is good, but still.)

It was Mother's Day on Sunday. Rowan kept saying, "Happy Murz Day!" We went out to brunch, and our server forgot to put in our food order and she cried. We got our brunch for free. It was really good, even though we didn't eat until 3. I ordered dessert. For supper, I had more ice cream.

Today I burned through the house putting crap away and being mad at everyone who left their crap out and cleaning and finishing slip-covering the chair and changing my pants three times because they were all falling down. Apparently, my hips are spreading even more. Even my undies are too tight. This sucks. I had to do laundry because I only have a couple of things that are comfortable to wear right now.

I got the bathroom upstairs reloaded after Dr. B painted it yesterday, and cleaned it, and got all the painting stuff put away again. If I'm not in labor, tomorrow I'll clean the downstairs one. Vacuuming is done, chest and bassinet are moved, Rowan's room is fairly clean, clothes are put away, one more load of laundry is done (not folded, though). Dishes are done, kitchen is fairly neat, chair is finished, sewing crap is put away. Extra junk is up in the attic. Patio is swept (50 mph winds left piles of leaves and sticks everywhere. It really was necessary, I swear.)

Blogging, check. Boring, rambling, yes. Sorry about that. This is how my brain works right now.

Tonight, Dr. B ordered me to call his mom. I did. I complained about some of the stuff he's been telling me lately and she laughed at him and made me feel better. I love having her for an ally.

Here's an example, 20 hours after his last final exam was graded and grades were turned in, he complained of "that anxious feeling when I don't have a project!" So I bought paint and told him to paint the bathroom, which I've been asking for going on 3 years now. His response? "I don't like doing other people's projects!"

Huh.  I don't much like being pregnant. You do it.

Or your laundry. Or cleaning your toilets. Or picking up your shoes every stinking day.

His mom laughed and laughed. And swore she taught him better, but she was pretty sure it's a B man thing, because his dad does the same thing.

So during our phone conversation (probably when he realized she was totally backing me up), he took the dog for a really long walk. I got the house half vacuumed before he got home. Then he went upstairs and put the stuff in the attic that I had asked him to do 2 weeks ago. He noticed I'd moved the heavy cedar chest, and he said, "Bootsie's coming soon. You've got a lot more strength tonight than you have had in a long time."

Not necessarily. I think I just have a lot less patience.

We'll see... the next time you hear from me, it might just be good news. Here's hoping.

5 comments:

jo said...

Hey R,
Remember you have a lot of B. girls on your side. We'll be thinking of you and praying for you. Much love, J.B.K.

Vivi said...

Oh girl I hear you. Like when St├ęphane says "On my days off I just want to relax!" and then I glare at him and say through gritted teeth AND WHEN IS MY DAY OFF RAAAAAAAWRRRR." ahem.

Thinking happy baby thoughts for you dear, and hoping Bootsie is zen chez zen!

The Bold Soul said...

Wish I'd known you needed pants; I bought a gorgeous (and inexpensive) pair of black stretchy maternity pants when I thought we might be getting pregnant, and then I had to pack them in a moving box, tags still on 'em. I'd have sent them to you with my love. They totally look comfortable. Well, you won't need them... you'll deliver any minute now.

And that picking up after a man thing? I've got 3 "men" here and it's ENDLESS. It's like, they don't even NOTICE the crap they leave lying around. Then, they're all, "Lisa, do you know where my XYZ is?" and I'm all, "Uh, it's in the salon on the brown table which is next to the glass doors". Why am *I* able to notice and pinpoint the exact location of any and every item in this house... and no one else is? My step-daughter NEVER asks ""Where is my XYZ?" so I think it's just a MAN thing.

I love these men (and men-in-progress) that are in my live but DAMN, they make me feel like the freaking house-maid sometimes. They don't do it on purpose, but still.

Waiting for good news about Bootsie. It's coming soon, that much you know. And if something isn't done around the house by this point? Seriously, it doesn't matter as much as your peace of mind. Just decide to let it go.

Jenn said...

Hi Ronica,

Ditto what JoAnn said. We love you! Hang in there ... we can't wait to hear your good news. But in the meantime, if you need to be cranky ... it's ok!

Love, J, M, and E

amanda said...

(((hug))) I'm sorry you are feeling so stressed!!

For what's it's worth (not-bloody-much, I'm sure!), it isn't just a MAN thing - Melissa does it, too, and it drives me bloody insane! ESPECIALLY the "On my day off" thing!!!

Glad to hear I'm not alone. :-)

BTW, I would have been happy to help with the slipcover!! I thought you were enjoying wrestling with that (it's the sort of thing I enjoy). The food though - well.....let's just say "Be GLAD I didn't try to help you there!" LOL Melissa would agree.

You're in my thoughts and prayers....

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