I am thankful

I am so thankful for Sea Monkey. He is healthy, he is growing, he is normal. Well as normal as any child of mine could be. I am thankful it worked on our first IUI, and that while I am uncomfortable I am not sick.

I am thankful for my darling, darling husband. He is never too busy or too tired to rub my feet or my back or whatever is hurting, he is bustling around the house getting ready for Sea Monkey while I play Beached Whale on the couch, he is thoughtful and indulgent, he is really almost perfect.

I am thankful we found Thunder. I cannot tell you how horrible it was while he was lost.

I am thankful Mom is healthy-ish.

I am very thankful for my blog, and to Mel for giving it a home. During the terrible long years we tried to get pregnant, I was so lonely and sad. Blogging gave me a place to say all the things most people I knew were uncomfortable hearing and gave me a tiny little island of sanity.

I am thankful that my depression is gone. Gone for good? Who knows. But gone for now. As irritating as my former ob was when she said the cure for my depression was a baby( Great! No problem! I will get right on that bitch. Thanks. )she was right. And I am pretty damn happy all the time now.

I am thankful that I have not lost myself.

I am thankful for the people I have met through this blog. My life is richer for it.

moo

Guess who is leaking a lot? They had been doing it a little for weeks now, but as of today MOO. I guess I am gonna have to hunt down those nipple pad things. Who doesn't like a new party trick?

Practically week 24

24 weeks tomorrow and I am very excited. YAY! I set up my appointment for my glucose test for late December. I gained 4 pounds this month. Which freaks me out some. I am not sure how much I have gained so far. Maybe 11 pounds? That's not cool. But Mister just laughs and tells me getting bigger is the point. He is not worried and neither is the ob. I will have to see how my nutritionist feels on December 7th.

I guess it is safe to say I will gain closer to 20 pounds than 15. I asked her about my leg cramps and she said I might need more calcium so I am to take a Tums every night. I feel like I get plenty of calcium, she told me to drink ten glasses of water a day( I AM) and a banana every day. I eat maybe three a week, so I'll just have more. But the day I had the really horrible cramps, I happened to eat two bananas- so I am not convinced it will help.

We got sad news for our budget. Our taxes are going up almost a grand a year. So our mortgage payment will rise a hundred dollars a month starting in January. They just built a new elementary school last year, and due to mismanagement went way over budget. Sooooo our taxes got raised. Ick. I am gonna go slob on the couch and eat macaroni and cheese.

Doctor tomorrow

And I think this is the first time I will be going and not afraid. Of course I have 24 hours to work myself into dead baby panic mode but right not I am feeling ok. Physically I feel like someone has beaten me with a brick. My legs were almost better from a few days ago when I got woken up again. It was not as bad this time, but it was plenty bad enough. I am going to try the gatorade suggestion I got. Because bananas are not working. I hate gatorade, but I'm just going to drink it with a lot of ice.

Our hallway is almost painted, and then by tomorrow the pictures will be up and so will the banister. I am hoping the ob will have an ETA on the H1N1 shot. Right now I am wandering around work in a vapor of Lysol.

In shower land, my sister and I may have come to an agreement. May. We have tentatively decided that she will throw a small shower( well if you call 20 small- but it is smaller than 50 by golly) and Mister and I will have a meet and greet at home in April. Insert long rant I have already ranted about the boringness of showers and my unwillingness to spend hours saying "ooooh a blue shirt. ooooooh a bear. ooooooh ". I am studying the Consumer Reports guide to baby products. I read there that pacifiers used from 1 month to 12 months cut the risk of death from SIDS. So I am reversing my anti pacifier position. Although if Sea Monkey is not sleeping, Sea Monkey is NOT gonna have one of those things in his mouth. MOST ESPECIALLY not one that says "mute button".

Anyhow, hopefully a drop in at our house will keep people happy and busy, and since we are not living in the White House, hopefully people will come for an hour and leave. Or something like that. Ugh.

Poor Mister is having his 30th birthday ( for those of you wondering- YES I am almost five years older than he is) in February. I would like it to be a surprise party but I am too gonna be too big. Plus, with our budget model I can't spend money without it being accounted for. It is the only bad thing. There is no way to hide something like a party. Which is a little sucky.

I am also hoping the ob can tell me what to do about the hellacious backne I am getting. WTF? Gross. Anyhow, that is what is going on here.

Chrimmas

Chrimmas is coming. All of Mister's dire projections of financial ruin aside, we will have double the Christmas budget this year. Thank God, because as some of you who have been slogging through this blog with me may recall; we did Christmas on $400 for ummm I think 12 people last year. I went back and looked, and we spent $344 for 16 people last year. Wow. Well this year I get $800 and I am stoked. We have three more people to buy for but I already know that I want to get them a calendar and movie passes.

Hopefully nothing crazy happens. Like the year when we had a grand in vet bills and Mister needed new tires. Fun! Not! Mister told me he does not want a present, since he already got a leather jacket. Which is fine. I am going to buy him the Phillies baby board book and a onesie so Sea Monkey can be all decked out for baseball season. Ick. But Mister will like it.

We are making pineapple vodka and fudge this year. And this year I am NOT cutting the fudge and wrapping each piece in gold and silver foil. Screw that. Everyone gets a block. I am also not making any nut fudge(excluding maple walnut for one person) I am making chocolate, chocolate mint and maybe vanilla. Three flavors is plenty.

We already know that my nephew is getting a baseball glove and my Dad, stepmom, and father- in law are all getting booze. As requested.

I would like to buy those grandparent books for everyone but I opened them up and they DO NOT take real life into account. For example, in Grandmother Remembers there is a line that says "Your Grandfather would want you to know ________ about me." Ummm, are we referring to my Dad? He cannot stand my Mom and would not have anything nice to say at all. It would read something like " Your Grandfather would want you to know that I AM A LOON."

I was a little surprised that the grandparent books have not kept up with the times. Considering my Mom is twice divorced and now single, and Dad is remarried. So unless I find some book that is a leetle more modern, no grandparent books.

I am thrilled to say that we have already decided that next Christmas we will not be doing the Divorced Family Run Around. We have already told everyone that if they want to see Sea Monkey, they can cart their asses to us. I am not dragging that child into two states on one day on a six hour car trip. Everybody else can man up for once. Because it would be two hours to my inlaws and then three to my Dads. And then an hour home. Nope. Tempting, but nope. We will provide hot chocolate and grandbaby access in our home. Merry Christmas to us, for once.

Well, I am off to the store. It is double dollar coupons at Giant and I happen to have dollar coupons for super fancy deluxe chocolate bars. Hello... delicious.

Paranoid or realistic?

I am feeling doomed. Both of my bosses have the flu. I don't know what kind yet. Hopefully the kind I got the shot for. But my general manager is out till she is fever free and my other boss is on antibiotics and coughing and puking. Sooo, am I being realistic in thinking I am getting what they have or am I being paranoid and hormonal? I suppose I'll find out soon enough.

ow ow ow

Ow. Leg cramps. ow. And I had TWO bananas yesterday. But I woke up with evil leg cramps in both legs. Thank goodness Mister had not left for work yet. He could see them moving. Creepy. But he pet them for a while till they calmed down. Now I am gonna be limping all day. Hurting. Ow.

Yesterday I went into New York City with my sister, Daddy and step mom. We saw a friend for his birthday. We went for Chinese food( so that in addition to a limp I am pretty puffy from the salt) and I tried bubble tea. It was... different.

But the Chinese food was awesome. Soooooo good. It made up for the fact that I spent umm, maybe eight hours in the car yesterday.

We are still at an impasse over the baby shower. My sister stills thinks we should invite every relative I have. Why? Why invite my cousins that I have not seen in over three years?

New York was beautiful last night. Cool, but not too cold. I love to be there, but I hate getting there. I am pretty pooped. I have been working a lot of overtime and strange shifts. I finally have a day to call my own tomorrow. In addition to errands I am making stuffed shells.

This is a pretty lame post. But I'm feeling lame. ba dum dum. Hah ha leg joke.

Please tell me

I am not the only one have insane pregnancy dreams. I dreamed my cat was a vampire and I strangled him. I dreamed Mister and I did the nasty in front of our window while people waited for the bus. There is no bus stop around here. Not to mention that Mister would give up sex entirely before he would do it where people can see him. I dreamed a zoo got loose and there were wild animals up and down the road. I dreamed my teeth fell out. All night long, one after the other and it seems like it is every night. Then I wake up to pee and the insanity starts again.

It is not restful.

maybe movement?

Maybe. I don't know, what do I have to compare it to? It is not what I imagined. I suppose I imagined something that felt like a foot actually kicking me. But I do know one thing, Sea Monkey travels. Sometimes he is down low and sometimes he is up high. Back and forth. So my pants fit differently every day or even differently during the day. Very weird.

We are at 22 weeks today and Mister and I cannot take it anymore and have made plans if not to decorate the nursery than at least to empty it and repaint it. Currently the nursery is my reading room, and is ballerina pink, with my collections of Eeyore and Madame Alexander and Longaberger baskets in it. I have no idea where we are gonna put my Madame Alexander dolls. I suppose in our bedroom, but that might give Mister the creeps. Hopefully our next baby will be a girl and they can get put in a case in her room. I love Madame Alexander dolls soooooo much. My favorite is my Alice in Wonderland. When we were at Hershey Park they had a Madame Alexander doll and I WANTED it. I did not buy it, but I wanted to. Maybe I can get a glass case for the living room?

I got an award from the Elderly Ovary and noticed she started going gray in college. I started going gray when I was 16. For craps sake. Except it is a really really CRISCO WHITE.

I am headed off to work. Blech.

Busy

So busy. And tired. I have been clopening, which is what they call it when you close and open. So yesterday I worked till 11 30, and today I have work at 8 but I have to stay all day because there is a freaking staff meeting from 8-11. Then I have to be back at 7 to open the next morning. Feel my joy. Yuck.

My dumb boss has actually driven one of our nicest employees to give in her 2 weeks. She was sad but I told her that I agreed with her, and that it was the right thing to do. Who knows when things will improve? When your constant complainers complain, it is nothing- but when your happy employees complain and leave it is something. I think I might have to sit boss down and ask if she is doing this on purpose or what.

I'm sure that will go well.

By golly, I'm home.

And have to get ready for work soon. And am not looking forward to whatever snotty email snotty boss sent me when I complained about her wanting 12 hours of work in an 8 hour day.

The Hersey Spa was just as lovely as I remembered. Everyone there is so nice( and not creepy- nice like Disney World) but really nice. Everyone seems to actually enjoy their jobs. We had a great time and for about seven blessed hours, I did not have ring around the ankle. Getting a pedicure while you look at beautiful scenery in an obscenely comfortable robe after eating chocolate chip muffins and drinking hot cocoa is..... good. Soooooo good. We are going back next year. I would LOVE to go with my husband for a last hurrah before the baby gets here but since my pedicure was 90 dollars and the room was almost 300, etc etc I don't see it happening. Totally worth every penny, but no matter how you look at it- still a lot of pennies.

Mmm food, the cheesecake with fresh strawberries was perfect. Sooooo perfect. Sadly, I only enjoyed the cheesecakey goodness for a short while before I spent 48 hours reliving the tablespoon of red onion on my salad. Up yours red onion.

On the baby shower front, well it has not gone smoothly. I am a chips and dip kind of girl. A low maintenance ( not including the once a year indulgence- once a month is high maintenance, once a year is a treat) person who HATES FUSS. I hate fuss, people. I hate being the center of attention. AND I REALLY HATE PEOPLE WHO SAY THEY HATE ATTENTION WHILE ACTUALLY WANTING AND LOVING IT BECAUSE YOU SCREW IT UP FOR THE REST OF US. JUST ADMIT YOU LIKE FUSS SO THE REST OF US CAN GET SOME FREAKIN PEACE.

Anyhow we were sitting at the dinner table for Mom's birthday and Mom was talking about Sea Monkey whom she insists on calling Little Boy Blue which is annoying. "And how is my Little Mama today? And how is Little Boy Blue Today?" Please imagine the most syrupy, you are a half-wit tone possible. That is the tone my Mom uses with children. AND THEN SHE PET MY STOMACH. And I bit her head off, a little. The only person who can pet me is Mister. Anyhow, ick. But then The Shower comes up. Because my sister mentioned that she "has" to invite someone I don't care for because we have known them a long time and it would be awkward for her not to. Now, I have heard my sister talk five kinds of smack about this girl for a good half hour multiple times. She avoids seeing her whenever possible. So, because SHE does not want to feel awkward we must apparently suffer. And I said it was dumb to invite people who were not going to be a part of our babies life and why did we need to invite my Great Aunt that I see once a year, anyway?

I want the people the baby will see and know and that ARE a part of our lives. See, this is why we freakin eloped. Because I have a low tolerance for this crap and I feel like my sister's pregnant prop. Do you know she suggested a game where everyone tries to figure out how large I am? What the CRAP kind of a game is that? How fat is the fat, pregnant PCOS woman? NO. NO. If I am wearing a size 18 maternity NOW, what size will I be wearing THEN? Then, when I said it did not make sense to invite people who are not a part of our lives- really does my 80+ Great Aunt want to drive over two hours to sit with us? Do we need to invite people I have not seen ON PURPOSE for over two years because they have lost their minds? Why and how they have lost their minds is a whole separate post but I assure you, their parenting philosophy is to put it kindly, lenient.

Anyhow, so my sister says that there are 50 people on the shower guest list. Now, this is incredible because if you asked me how many close friends I have I would say NOT 50. I have only a handful of friends now, because I withdrew from everyone during infertility and dealing with my crazy Mom. So telling me there are 50 people I MUST have, is incredible to me.

And Mister is fuming mad because my sister said " people from South Jersey have no manners". Ummm, or maybe I am just not a hypocrite. Because I am surely to God not inviting some of those people to my house. So why would I want them at a shower?

Here is who I would WANT. If I had to freakin have one. For Chrissake. My darling, darling AYM and her equally darling husband. My husband. My husbands best friends who will most certainly be seeing the child on a monthly if not more basis- and their Mom who is Mister's honorary Mom. And my stepmom. And I suppose my mother in law. Sigh. And my sister in law and her husband. And when she is not calling me and Mister ill mannered, back woods, inbred yokels- my sister. And Andrea and her almost husband. I have some friends that I love dearly in The South who are too, too far away to come but will be there in spirit. Sadly, also my Mom. Argh, Mom. ARGH. So we are only at 15. Then include my brothers in law. The ones that are close enough and you get to 19. I suppose my other sister in law would want to go. So 20 at the outside. There. See. WHO ARE THESE OTHER 30 PEOPLE?? And where were they when we were stripping the wallpaper in our house? And where were they when I was crying in exhaustion after taking care of Mom and cleaning up her pee and poop and changing the dressing on her bedsores? Cause they were not at my house, and they were not calling me to see if I was still sane. Or telling me everything would be fine and that I would get through it. Or listening to me rant about insurance companies and hospitals, and puke and the hundreds of other things you deal with when your parent is dying.

So Mister, in a display of fine backwoods inbred manners said NO SHOWER. Praise Jesus. And my sister said "FINE!" And I was thankful but suspicious. Because I don't believe her. No. Just no. Please no.

I am very, very tempted to tell a big, fat lie to my sister. Tell her my sister in law is handling everything, and then just let the damn illbred country bumpkin redneck chips fall where they may when nothing happens.

Stupid work

is making me crazy. And my boss is not evil but she has never been a manager at this level before. Which means she is proving herself on us. Fun. All my emails sound like " This is unacceptable!!" Yes, she uses two exclamation points in her emails. Because they are CRUCIAL, you know. And she is 25. Do I need to say anything else besides that she is 25? There is nothing inherently wrong with being 25, but this girl had no people skills as a supervisor, did not develop them as a manager and is in charge of a whole store and has wretched people skills. You do not get good work out of people by telling them they have to stay late, then when they tell you they have to open saying " that sucks for you.". That is going to get your tasks done that night, but what about the future when your employee resents you?

She has no idea how to talk to people and is alienating her staff already. Including her managers. Including me. And if the person training your staff does not like you or respect you, you have problems. I was open to liking her but... nope.

My rule for good management is take care of your staff and they will take care of you. It is hard to find good employees, it is expensive to train them. If you treat them like they are dumb, lazy, clueless, or micromanage them; they will act dumb, lazy, clueless, and need micromanaging.

The biggest part of being a manager is keeping all your employees happy. Happy employees are productive. Who doesn't get this? I think she will get short term results and long term resentment. I think she has some things in her favor, like energy and follow through but that is not enough. It's enough in a manager of a department, but not for a whole store.

I wonder sometimes if she is going to try and fire me. Who cares? Then I can collect unemployment and she will have to go through Christmas without a store trainer who has almost seven years of experience. Go ahead, babydoll. I know I am the best trainer in our area. You need me more than I need you. I can get an employee fully trained in 12 hours. I can get them emergency trained in 6. And they love me, and they work hard for me, and are happy. I could get another job tomorrow. Yes I could.

I don't want to, though. I want my freakin maternity leave. It is free money. Hello, free. If I get a new job I won't get maternity leave. I want the convenience of a job they have to hold for me so I can go right back. I like my co-workers( well most of them), I like my job. Mostly. I like my actual job, the cover your ass paperwork, the corporate crap, and new boss growing pains excepted.

Sooo my game plan ( unless she figures out a way to shit-can me, in which case my game plan is unemployment) is to make it two more weeks. Then it will be crazy busy from Christmas and I won't have as much time to notice her, then it will be the second week of January. Sllllllllow. BUT, she is getting married in February, so she will be distracted. Then she will be gone for her honeymoon. Then it will be March. Maternity Leave! So hopefully we will all be too busy for anything to happen for the next couple of months.

No, just no.

When Mister saw his parents my mother in law( who in many ways is great)told him " let me know as soon as she goes into labor and I will take a personal day so I can be there in the delivery room."

Mister said "No. It's just us, she doesn't want anyone there besides me. You may wait in the WAITING ROOM with everyone else and see the baby with everyone else." And she said
"But I'm your MOTHER".

Hellll to the no people. My mother in law+ my vagina= NEVER. Mister stood firm and I have to tell you my idea of torture would be any more people than medically necessary being there. No thanks, we didn't even have privacy for the conception- I would like a little for the birth.

I have no idea how those women on tv are ok with cameras and film crews and giving birth. But I would lock myself into a closet for privacy. Please, I DON'T EVEN WANT TO BE THERE. Mister doesn't want to be there, but I told him he has to- to hold my hand BUT NO LOOKING. His area is from the neck up, we will happily see the final product but neither of us wants to see, touch, cut a cord, or examine my nether regions. Neither of us is a fan of goo, bodily fluids, pain, or the distinct possibility that I could poop in front of people. Having my mother in law there will NOT help.

Soooo, my mother in law is a little put out. She will have to live with the disappointment of never seeing my ladybits. EVER.