At Odds

I’ve been doing what I can to make myself comfortable lately and help me make it to the end of this pregnancy safely and complication free. And as far down the road as possible.

Unfortunately, that’s meant no caffeine. Which means I now have migraines. Which means I walk around in sunglasses because I can’t take any good drugs for them. And REALLY isn’t adding to my comfort level.

Caffeine was causing me to have contractions starting 2 months ago. I don’t mean the pain-free Braxton-Hicks variety where you feel the tightening but can go on with your day. I mean the painful ones that make you unable to speak and glad for you Lamaze class years ago. The kind that go on for hours and become closer and closer together. The kind where you might have 10+ in an hour when your doctor worries about as few as 4.

That kind.

I’ve also limited my activity a bit. No more long treks with the dogs or carrying heavy objects around. That had pretty much the same result as my latte habit. And it’s irritating because I have things to do. I’m not on bed rest or anything. I’m just doing less.

And it bugs me.

Partly because I’m nesting. I need to get the baby stuff out of storage, sorted, cleaned, and anything that’s become ruined by 3+ years in storage with heavy junk piled on it replaced. I know some of that immediacy is my hormones. I know some of it is a legitimate concern because…well…It’s not like I’ve never had issues with pre-term labor before so wanting to know our stuff is ready makes sense. Especially those immediate types of items like a car seat.

Partly it’s because Hubby doesn’t feel my immediacy and is having his own versions of nesting—damn couvade syndrome. Rather than help me get things ready that might actually need to get done. Rather than helping me do the normal chores that have to get accomplished. He tore out our living room ceiling.

Yup. Because we *needed* to put in ceiling lighting and a fan (for the baby) and then fix the ductwork (for the baby). Not get a carseat cleaned and ready.

They Wear Me Out

Tiredness. That’s what happens when you: a) Have a non-functioning air conditioner when the temperature goes up. b) Open the windows to help the thermostat read below 80F despite pollen allergies and the inability to take allergy medication. c) Spend your weekend trying to fight off the ridiculous. d) Have an unpleasant milestone. The first two are rather mundane. I cannot sleep because I’m either too hot or can’t breathe. So that will be resolved tomorrow morning with a visit from the repairman. The third is the fault of Hubby, Son, and family. Hubby, being who he is has been on a “fixing” jag. Nothing is broken by the way so this so-called “fixing” has been a jag of breaking things and spending money we don’t have on improvements that aren’t. I need to find him some broken stuff. I think I should dismantle our toaster…that should keep him busy for a day or two and I won’t be upset if he can’t fix it. He is driving me to drink with the “fixing”. Son is just in a bad phase. I think 3.5 yo’s have all had a temporary brain-ectomy. He was particularly taxing whilst I tried to complete the taxes this year. Why his father wouldn’t take him out of the house to go play, I do not know. But it turned an annual project that shouldn’t take long into a long and drawn out ordeal. He did apologize by way of dinner out, but that too was a bit taxing. Those who have had brain-ectomies should not be taken to fancy fine dining restaurants. He did okay if not sitting still for even 3 seconds and occasionally shouting just to hear himself is okay. He did eat and eat well. He was a brave soul and tried squid (he didn’t like it, but swallowed it like a gentleman and just said he didn’t want any more) and veal (THAT he loooooooooved. He ate a whole veal cannelloni. I am glad they gave me two so I had something to eat). The unpleasant milestone would be the “might have been” due date I just passed. Stressful, but it might’ve been worse if I weren’t already expecting another who wouldn’t exist otherwise.

Workin'

So, I'm working hard on having somewhere I have billable hours on October 1st.

I'm doing it from all angles:

• Looking for opportunities with my current employer
• Looking for opportunities with companies that have tried to hire me in the last 6 months
• Looking for opportunities with the company that won my job
• Dreaming of how nice it would be to be a stay-at-home Mommy and totally ignoring the fact we wouldn't be able to pay our bills that way.

So far, and keep in mind this is after spending 30 minutes making phone calls, I have no reason to fear. I'll be employed at a same-or-better salary in the same complex. It may be in my same job. It may be with my same company. It may be something else entirely.

I'd prefer to stay with my company, however. I mean, the 401K matching, the leave accrual, and so on make it preferrable to stay. And I want to have a child in less than 2 years and I want to have a New-Mother-Friendly environment when I do--and they have one.

But I'm looking around just in case. After all, I recently had my bank account wiped out (one day Hubby will understand that THIS IS WHY I HORDE MONEY!!!). I don't have a safety cushion to live off of while I take my time.

Derailed at the Station

Sasha is out of his mind.

We tried to introduce the potty last night. It didn't work so well.

You see, I forgot that toddlers are severely bipolar. And for our child, the evenings are periods of mania.

Not to say that, with appropriate timing, it isn't still very doable. Just not during the Hours of Insanity (roughly 7-10pm).

Right after he's done eating, he races around the house in circles, flailing his arms over his head. Occasionally he'll stop to do the Charleston or perhaps show us his rendition of "Here's the Church" .

But always, always, always....he's shouting. Sometimes in a high-pitched shreik. Sometimes in a low, gravely monster voice. Either way, it never stops. Just incessant, high-decible babble interspersed with real words.

And moving. My child who can sit still on my lap for a book or to play quietly on a puzzle or blocks...at these hours becomes a whirlwind of activity. Like someone put speed in his sippy.

Not good for trying to use an object that involves sitting. Or pants around your ankles.

So it looks like the potty training will need to wait for a weekend to start.

****

Christmas is very over, as we've decided--at least for now--to forgo the 3 Kings holiday (which would have been today). So no boxes of lawn clippings under beds or more presents to give.

****

The complaining is also dying down. I love Hubby, but he enjoys complaining. Even when there's no real call for it. And any time where he's receiving gifts is another potential cause for complaining because it may not quite be...whatever. I now realize that the ability to complain is part of the joy for him. It still is not so much fun for me.

This Christmas? The big complaint-bringer was not technically a gift...his new car. He pretty much picked whatever he wanted that was within the budget I set (I handle our finances so naturally I set all budgets for large purchases). My stipulations were on practical matters: safety, total cost of ownership, space...mostly that it still fit in with our life 10 years from now. When he made up his mind and we had a deal, the checks were made out, the loan was signed and he could pretty much go over and pick it up whenever he wanted.

I got a call at work one morning, asking how much money we had in our savings account. Here I am thinking that the check for some reason didn't clear.

No, he just decided he wanted to get the ultra-mega upgrade with all the most luxurious bells and whistles.

Um, no.

So sulking ensued.

I'm glad that it's ebbed noticably. I can't take it for very long.

Maybe One Day He'll Share My Weakness for Bakeries

We had a lovely holiday in spite of everything (norovirus, sinus infections, dead truck...).

Sasha loved his wagon.

Hubby got to complain about his gifts (really, he likes to complain. He complains loudest when he gets EXACTLY what he asked for).

I accumulated more replacement cookware (stainless and cast iron in place of cheapo-teflon).

I also spent my first night away from the baby. Oh, it was so hard to do...even though I know it was the right choice. We were both too sick and contagious. Grandma's was the best place for him. He already had sinusitis and didn't need anything more.

The big news is...

This morning???

He. Ate. Bread!!!!!!!

Now, most parents would think I'm totally nuts for making this into a milestone. But they are people with normal children who like jelly and cream cheese sandwiches, pancakes, and assorted other baked goods. Sasha has always reviled them.

But this morning, after his bowl of cereal and fruit (he will eat cereal. He especially likes Kix or oatmeal with greek yogurt instead of milk), he asked his Daddy for one of the croissants. Nothing special, just Pillsbury, baked-from-the-tube croissants. We always let him try new foods when he asks (within reason of course) and so Hubby gave him one, not really expecting him to take more than a taste (of course, the chewed mouthful would be returned to Daddy along with the bread-item...per the usual). Sasha just sat and ate it.

I only pray that this is the start of eating bread. Those who have children who Will. Not. Eat. It! Just don't know how hard it is to pack balanced, yet bread-free lunches.

No Daylight Saved

So, yesterday *should* have been a day to catch up on a little sleep. It wasn’t, but it should have been.

Normally, given no disturbances to his sleep (like being bundled into the car at 6am), Sasha will happily snooze away till 8. We’ve learned that unless we want to be up till midnight, it’s best to wake him up at the usual crack-o-dawn time and go about our day earlier than anyone should ever have to on a weekend.

So, I thought, we’ll let him sleep in a bit and we’ll just start off Sunday on our new schedule. Seems logical right? Well, you’d be wrong.

Nope. He slept horribly the night before. And was cranky and tired all Sunday. And when cranky and tired? He also does not eat. Which does not help the mood.

It was a rather unpleasant day, despite my attempts to force sustenance, naptime, or distractions upon him. Not even naked bathtub fingerpainting was appreciated by him—and that combines some of his most favorite stuff (being naked, making artwork, being able to play in water, and making messes).

So, I myself am exhausted, cranky, and now have a huge and lovely obvious bitemark on my right cheek. And that’s the face cheek.

Also, Kerrygirl’s stomach issues seem to be back, but I wonder if this time it isn’t just worms. For one, this time she seems totally unphased. She’s behaving like her normal obnoxious self—eating everything in sight, bouncing everywhere with joy over nothing (knocking over furniture) and whining when something calls to her attention the fact she isn’t surgically attached to my leg. No moping. No hunger strikes. And then there have been the gifts. Yes, gifts. You always know fall and spring in our household. Because they are the seasons of Mud & Death. The hunting is good and the mudpits are even better making my chore list just absolutely explode. I guess another possibility is the C-word because kerries who get it seem to behave entirely too normal. If so, well, I don’t think it’d be a shock. Poor girl’s health has been so awful since we rescued her that I’m always expecting to find her unexpectedly passed on.

Speaking of chore list, I’m struggling to get thru my twice a year chores (packing away clothes, the Goodwill boxes, shampooing the carpets and drapes, organizing the office, and fixing the garden). The drapes are unsavable—torn, stained, and repulsive. I can’t seem to get Sasha’s carpet shampooed and his is the worst, easily. No opportunities to go spend time in the office alone (it doesn’t work with Sasha with me and Hubby just doesn’t get it). And I haven’t had time to work in the garden.

Boy for Sale. Cheap.

Ah…the joys of Toddlerhood.

Sasha is currently experiencing his Jekyll & Hyde Period. We never know which one he’s going to wake up as.

Last night, post-afternoon nap/pre-bedtime Sasha was Hyde. I have blood blisters from when he bit me in mid-tantrum. I suppose to emphasize Just. How. Angry. He. Was. There were several of these. I changed his diaper—tantrum. I brushed his teeth—tantrum. I made him stop hitting the dog—tantrum. If someone had happened by looking to purchase a child (the circus, gypsies…), I would have gladly handed him over. Cheap.

This morning, he is Dr. Jekyll. He woke up buzzing with energy and bursting with giggles. He proceeded to show me he knew all his body parts (he has “toes” and “nose” reversed…have to work on that), he knew where anything with birds on it was in the house, he knew where all the doors were, he new where anything with a dog (in Sasha-land, all 4 legged furry creatures are “dogs” and he will not be convinced otherwise) on it was…I had to cut him short because, seriously, I did have to go to work. Apparently his exposition of knowledge continued thru breakfast.

As for sleeping thru the night (or even a decent nap, for that matter) we are much as we have been. It’s not good, because we grownups get short-tempered when tired. Hubby wants me to “fix it”, but we’ve tried every method touted to get a child to sleep. Every. It’s just not in the cards for us.

Shmirthday

I did finally get a plan together to celebrate Hubby’s birthday.
With the severe absence of Hawaiian cuisine (other than an ice cream shop that I found), he gave me the vague description of what type of thing he wanted to do with a baby/dog sitter for the evening.

Go out to eat. Somewhere different, but not too different. Somewhere with good, somewhat fancy seeming food but that was very casual. Somewhere out of town, but not far away.

So I found a Caribbean place (the Thai and Chinese ones I found qualified as “too different” in being extremely authentic). Checked to make sure it was still there. Perused the menu to accommodate whatever he meant by “different but not too different” sent directions to his phone, and secretly planned to take him out for pineapple whips for dessert.

I did not account for him being in a “mood”.

He’s been pretty awful about the whole thing and we ended up skipping dessert while he moped and fussed and we ended up going home (at least the curried goat was good). He was kind of nasty to everyone that day.

We talked and I’m thinking mid-life crisis. Yay.

Meanwhile, I’m the one who it’s been pointed out to lately that she doesn’t have any friends. The definition of “friends” being someone you see at least once a month, face-to-face, in a social setting, who’s known you at least 7-10 years and to whom you are not related by either blood or marriage. I think with that definition though, pretty much everyone with little kids has no friends. So I don’t feel too bad.

As far as Sasha is concerned? Well, he has a black eye right now, so no pictures. He snatched a phone a tad to vigorously and smacked himself in the face with it. Meanwhile, his paternal Grandma is trying to convince me to get him into modeling. As much as I think my son is beautimous, I just can’t be a “stage mom”. It’s not something I want for us.

...Right back where is started from....

In California since Friday. So far, the trip has been...interesting. Tried to go see Muir Woods yesterday but was overly crowded and couldn't actually get in. So drove down to Stinson Beach and both Sasha and I got carsick. However, he recovered quickly and it was his first time at a beach so I had to get snaps. Will post those later.
Today Hubby decided for some reason to check out the town of Brisbane. However, he didn't get directions first and we ended up in a place called Cow Palace.
No, it wasn't a ranchers heaven.
It should have been called the Crack District. I saw a deal go down in broad daylight for the white stuff and a body rolled up in a carpet...whether it was a homeless person sleeping or a deal gone bad, dunno. Don't really want to.
Typical guyness prevailed though and he fought my attempts to get him to use GPS. GPS told him to go right, he went left.
Meanwhile we had a toddler who needed lunch and soon.
So, needless to say, we spent a lot more time in Cow Palace than I had any desire to.
Tomorrow we're going to the aquarium, which should go a lot better.

31

1. Well, we got much more sleep last night, but only because I gave up. I spent the night on the futon with the baby. I don't know why I need to be there...he doesn’t want to snuggle with me. I guess he just wants to be able to check in with me if he needs to. Yesterday he was so tired that he had trouble in every aspect and his Grandma called him Mr. Hyde. Hopefully a semi-decent night of sleep with his Mommy will help him out today.
2. Yesterday Kerry snapped at the baby. Hubby kind of panicked, but really, I don't think it's a cause for concern, other than he needed to be watching better. She was asleep in her bed and Sasha came over to pet her. Unfortunately, he has not yet grasped "gentle" and so it was more like hitting. And Kerry doesn't like people touching her face in the first place. In my opinion, we just need to make sure that when the dogs are sleeping or eating he leaves them alone. Yes, Hubby, I'm saying you need to watch him better. The dog was just being a dog.
3. I just signed a Birthday card that didn't say who it was for. I handed it to the front desk and he looked perturbed. How funny will it be if I was asked to sign my own card?
   I got myself a bag of Chocolate Mix Skittles today because it seemed weird and gross. And they are, in fact, weird and gross.

• Vanilla-stale marshmallow.
  S'mores-Count Chocula marshmallows
  Chocolate Caramel--stale, crumbly, Russel Stovers caramel
  Chocolate Pudding--Hunts Chocolate canned pudding...with a bizzare aftertaste
  Brownie Batter--think burnt, scorched brownies. By far the worst.

Formalities

...have not been dispensed with. I had a meeting about them yesterday and everything is find and moving forward as planned next week. It appears I'm the only person to request everything in writing first...odd, but whatever.

We are off to Philly tonight. Hubby made some things extra difficult in his efforts to "help" (like leaving our empty luggage at my Mom's....really don't understand how we were supposed to pack like that). But for the most part everythings on track now thanks to a bunch of grocery bags and an hour of my morning.

Hubby is supposed to take the pups to the kennel and I'm hoping he remembers Kerry's cone. She's been chewing at her scar and for some reason he keeps taking it off of her. And then wondering why she's suddenly bloody.

I dunno. I gave up understanding his reasons for things.

I can't beleive how much stuff we had to pack for Sasha. Before it was easier. He was exclusively breastfeeding and his eczema was bad enough we just didn't bathe him for long stretches. I considered just buying his stuff when we got there, but thankfully checked where we were. We're in tourist-land. There isn't anywhere nearby to get his special organic baby food. So I had to pack every meal, his bowls and silverware, emergency formula (in case I'm having a low day), diapers, crib sheets (since most laundry stuff gives him hives) and so on. His diaper bag is without diapers or clothes or any of the normal things. And weighs a ton.

SAHD will not be coming soon

It was a lovely weekend. I had to work late on Friday because I had to finish a class for required professional development before I timed out and failed by default--which would have happened today. But I got in just under the wire and did fine.

Saturday we met for brunch with the in-laws. It was a bit of a mess up because everyone was late as usual. Partially because they had gone to the wrong IHOP. Others because they didn't leave the house till it was already a half hour past when we were supposed to meet. Sasha was good and we just fed him while we waited for everyone else to mosey on in. He passed out for his morning nap when one of his Uncles decided he wanted to hold him for a bit and therefore was stuck holding him when the food came out. Heh, heh.

I bumped into some old co-workers from my last job while we were there. They were a little surprised to see me with the Mom haircut and a passed out munchkin, but that's how things go.

Yesterday just had Easter lunch after Church with my family and that was it. Very low key weekend for a holiday.

I managed to get to Costco so we had more in our freezer than ice cubes and more in our fridge than ketchup.

And take care of Kerrygirl who didn't seem to be feeling too well. I am positive Hubby left something out she got into. After all, he seems incapable of putting half eaten food away.
I'm rethinking our plan to have me make enough money for him to be a SAHD. Every day he was at the end of his tether by the time I got home. And nothing was done in the house. Not even so much as him putting food away after he made himself lunch so I had to throw out a ton of stuff that was just sitting out spoiling.

I dunno what we are going to do because in his field, there really aren't any options for him to make the kind of money to support a family. I've crunched the numbers every which way and no matter how much we economized we'd still be short. Even if we didn't have dogs. I was the only one who could make enough but I'm also the only one who seems to be able to cope with the workload of being a SAHParent.

I know women are better multitaskers and that's probably part of it. I also don't suffer from that form of narcolepsy fathers seem afflicted with. And since I'm not sleeping on the nursery floor, I can get laundry done, dinner fixed, errands run (via PC), and be on a telecon for work planning out some big project at the same time.

I think Sasha may have to have 2 working parents because I can't come home every night to the disaster zone I was met with last week. I can't do all the SAHParents work, plus work all day, plus handle the costs of the spoiled food, E-vet visits, and so on that happened last week with our SAHD experiment.

A Study in Dicotomy

I'm in a bit of a sour mood.

After a day like yesterday (appt. at the social security office, appt. with the vet, 3 meetings, the discovery that every bottled beverage in our house had been de-labled and hidden around the house/yard, dog diarrhea in my car and on me, on top of just taking care of Sasha and all the daily stuff) I think I'm excused.

Hubby has been not exactly helpful. Lots of apologizing about how he was going to have to be a bad husband this week because he had to be at these meetings. Apparently I was mislead about the ending of Robot Season and there are a series of happenings associated with it that sounded really important. But the more I hear, the more they sound like parties.

Parties.

Did I mention the diarrhea? In my car? On my seat? While I was in it?

Yeah.

I know that sometimes you have to make an appearance at things. But it's not helping my mood to think of him enjoying hors devors and an open bar whilst I am engulfed in liquid poo.

To Purple

There is a blog I read. I find her project of simplifying her life and ridding it of all the unnecessary trappings and progressing towards “greenness” as quite interesting and a concept I am very on board with. But as she mentioned in one of her posts “For some people Purple is Green”, well….we’re purple.
As much as I’d love to reject the material and live a zen existence, it’s just not practical. I am married to a Gadget Man/Packrat/Obsessive Tinkerer. As anyone who knows such a person is aware, having ‘things’ is a necessity for them. If they don’t have ‘things’, they will create them. It is futile to fight it. The best I have been able to manage is to keep the influx of ‘things’ balanced by a steady stream of outgoing ‘stuff’.
I also have to rely on hiring professionals to help us out on keeping things up. For example, we pay people to groom our dogs and clean our house. That is a luxury, but one that has become necessary with me in school (in addition to working full-time). Such things are luxuries. However, it does simplify our lives. Grooming a kerry blue takes ALL DAY. Time I would rather spend in quality time with my family. And the cleaning of our house is a special arrangement that seems to benefit everyone---not to mention I’ve never had it cleaner or cleaned more greenly.
But other things have been done. For one, our food is all cooked from fresh ingredients. I traded cleaning for cooking and think it’s benefiting us all greatly.
Another is that we didn’t buy a new construction home or hire a lot of contractors. No, we bought an old Colonial and did nearly everything ourselves and just got all the permits and inspections done. I really think there’s a lot less waste in that because extra parts got returned to the store or used elsewhere in the home. Like the extra wood/hardware for our deck? Turned into patio furniture. Crown moldings? Picture frames. Nothing was wasted. Also, when it comes time to replace broken Ikea-type furniture, I like to do it in one of 2 ways: 1) find vintage or antique pieces at The Big Flea that are quality craftsmanship and will go with my décor, or 2)Have my husband (our in-house craftsman) build something out of scrap furniture grade lumber. Unless of course we’re talking mattresses, sofas, or other things that don’t last well. Those we get new.
We also have eliminated almost all the chemical cleansers. We still use dishwasher detergent and fragrance/phosphate-free laundry products, but for the most part that’s it. Everything else is able to be cleaned/disinfected with steam or boiling water. When we clean in between big cleanings, I don’t find the Shark takes any longer or more effort. And mysterious rashes have disappeared.
I did try to garden to raise some of our own organic fruit and veggies. That hasn’t worked so well. The dogs eat it or it accidentally gets mowed over. We have been considering getting into hunting. I have no problems with the concept provided all parts of the animal are used, and with us they would be (free dog food!). And we have 2 breeds that have the ability to be used for hunting—and I’ve seen them work together to take down prey, they’re very good at it.
For clothes, some friends and I have a clothing swap every season. Stained/destroyed clothing is of course not allowed, but everyone has things they’ve decided they just don’t like or don’t fit as well as they once did. I’ve gotten some lovely things…and given them away as well. It’s kept my closet from building up and kept my clothing budget down to a minimum.
And finally, medically we’ve been trying to be as holistic/homeopathic as possible. I have seen a big difference in the health of both ourselves and our pets with this change. I really think that working WITH the body to fight illness rather than against it to be quite beneficial.
So here’s to Purple.

Robot Season

A lot of other bloggers I have read have been recently discussing the Geek Quotient of themselves and their spouses.

However, I challenge them to outdo the Geek Extravaganza that is Robot Season.

My Hubby is involved in 3 Different Programs involving robotics and the season just opened last weekend.

Not that I don't appreciate the good things these programs do, I really do. They are a wonderful tool in education. However, I don't appreciate being a "widow" from early January till sometime in late May.

I also totally understand being of Geek Persuasion. The pen-and-ink Frank Miller of Spiderman (yes, I know...DC vs. Marvel incongruance there) and signed Buffy the Vampire Slayer script that decorate our office walls are mine. As is the Ed Wood movie collection and pretty much all our fantasy or sci-fi books. But I have never gotten the total absorption into projects that happens with tinkerers, like hubby.

I will admit, it has gotten better over the years. He no longer disappears for days at a time, ignoring his phone and whereabouts unknown leaving my imagination to go to a dark place. Only to discover he was sleeping on the floor of a machine shop somewhere. Now he's just out very late and gone most of the weekend. He'll answer his phone sometimes and will usually call with an ETA--that's about an hour from reality.

Yeah, we still need work.

Out of Hubby's mouth...

..upon seeing me in my matron of honor dress:

"Aye, t'is the Queen of the Leprachauns!"

Help?

Spent the last 5 days home.
It was like a vacation...even though I think I did 30,000 loads of laundry, cleaned the fridge, washed both dogs (twice. there was a poop incident), started AND finished my Christmas shopping, tidied the house, got groceries, cleaned the office, paid bills/mailed stuff, started the Xmas baking....
No wonder I'm still kind of tired.
This is the start of a week of my lessening responsibilities. KerryGirls groomer is coming TO THE HOUSE!!! Friday to get her all done up and next week we start with the cleaning service. I can't wait for someone ELSE to clean. I love my husband, but seriously, it's like getting blood from the turnip. For example, this weekend I wanted him to put the clean folded laundry away. That was it. That was the total of his duties. I've learned over the years to only ever give him one thing at a time or else nothing gets done.
What happened? He got bored after doing one basket load and proceeded to do some nonsense involving the computer insisting I told him to. I remember discussing the task in question quite clearly and my stand on the issue of revamping our network was to NOT do it and leave it the heck alone.
And so my annoyance got him going on the laundry again but he still didn't finish. There is a huge amount of folded laundry on the dining table, the rack of hung and ironed laundry in the laundry room is full, and for no apparent reason he took a bunch off the dining table. balled it up, and tossed it into the office.

The doc goes "quack"

I feel like hell, but I did go to a *real* doctor yesterday (rather than the quacks that make up my OBGYN practice). I will be feeling better soon.
Turns out I have a rampant infection. Both ears, sinuses, throat, and possibly a start in the lungs but she couldn't be sure since they don't have an x-ray there. And its bacterial, not viral, so me waiting around only lets it get worse and spread farther. I got a couple weeks worth of antibiotics and sent on my merry way.
I'd probably feel better already if Sasha hadn't realized his Daddy was gone and spent the night screaming all the way to the wee hours of the morning.
I cried too.
I am already so tired and don't feel well and had no one else to take Sasha so I can rest at all. And nothing worked to distract him. He just wanted Daddy and I couldn't do anything about that. He won't be home from Boston till very late tonight.

easily distracted

My mother-in-law came by today while I was working at home. Not to sound like a pain, but I really wish she hadn't.

Hubby was staying home--he said--so that he could take care of Sasha and let me work. I'd only be brought the baby if he needed to eat and then when I was done feeding him I could give him back.

Instead what happened was he spent the day visiting with his Mom and fixing her car (why can't she change her own air filter???? Hasn't she fingers???). Sasha would be in his playpen downstairs screaming and Hubby would let him, waiting for me to end my teleconference and come down to take care of the baby myself.

Like I had nothing else to do and Sasha wasn't any of his responsibility.

On top of that, his Mom let my dogs out "so they could go for a walk". Out to front door to be free. Thankfully, KerryGirl didn't go anywhere. She's so mired in ritual and procedure she was probably sitting waiting for her harness to be put on. The Hound, oddly, took herself on her usual walk and came home.

I was so peeved by the evening with Hubby that I left him and went our to do somethings by myself. Nothing exciting...return videos, get gas, get dogfood...I just couldn't stand him for the moment and needed a break. Plus, even though he said he wanted me to wait for him so he could go with me, he kept doing other things that would preclude this.

"...Just let me finish watching the 300 first"
"...Just let me shower first"
"...Just let me have a snack first"
"...Just let me run over to such-and-such and get a big trailer full of machine tools first"

It was the 4th or 5th "just let me" that nearly made my head explode.

catching up

Well, we did determine a name for Junior (AKA His Royal Hiney). Hubby apparently felt bad for me when he was born and let me have my way with the name…the one for which he has been given a nickname of Sasha…so that is what I’ll refer to him here.

Sasha’s a sweet little boy. Quite large and chubby and has a very expressive face and an iron determination to suck his fingers (we say no…he already has a pretty bad overbite so lets not make it worse). He loves his toys and his bouncy seat and will use it so vigorously he makes himself sick. Unfortunately he’s also teething so there’s massive amounts of drool everywhere and meltdown can occur suddenly and without warning.

The beasties have handled him well. The Hound was just dandy and accepted the addition without batting an eye. KerryGirl was very jealous but showed it by walking around crying and getting so worked up we needed some valiums temporarily and she had an incidence of HGE. Now I’ve even been letting them come by when Sasha has his tummy time. I need to watch carefully to make sure he doesn’t get stepped on or something, but they are very sweet and love him dearly.

Hubby is struggling a little and resistant to changing his life. You know, coming home early to pick up the baby from Grandma’s; doing more to help so I’m not so exhausted, etc. But he is…it’s just slowly and meeting a lot of resistance. He loves his boy and he’s coming around because of it.