You would think what with the stress of selling and buying a house finally being over, I would have experienced a nice, solid sleep last night.
Not so much.
After going to bed at 10:30, I woke up at 4 ready to go.
I like to think of this not as a result of my insane tendency to obsess over details like where we will put all of our furniture in the new house and more as a blessed event in which the Good Lord is preparing me for being awoken by the squawks and screeches of a delightful newborn in a few short months.
It’s going to be a long day.
This whole selling and buying of houses thing is proving to be quite the uphill battle, one I just won’t speak of because it will either make me cry or cause my head to explode from how a-holish people can be.
Meanwhile we had round 2 of our Baby Basics class tonight. This one involved discussions about things like circumcision, vaccinations and general care and feeding of infants. My chest tightened with each topic and I repeatedly had thoughts of “I’m not sure I can do this.”
And now I’m seriously considering giving the dogs away. Or just leaving them on the side of the highway. Or in the middle of it.
I spent about 20 minutes tonight griping at Ross for not getting the car seat situation figured out. Because clearly we need to have the car seat picked out a full 16 weeks before this child gets here. And because I’m clearly frustrated about something else.
The house hasn’t sold yet. I’m sure you knew that considering the lack of “OMG THE HOUSE IT IS SOLD SEE YA NEIGBORHOOD HOOLIGANS” post. Clearly, worse things could be going on, but after a steady flow of interested people, it’s just baffling and disappointing that we haven’t had any offers. Thus we still don’t know if we’ll be bringing the baby home to this house or to another location-yet-to-be-determined house.
So I yell about car seats.
The urge to nest has been kicking in like none other, mostly because there’s little else I can do to prepare for this kid other than sleeping a lot and eating my weight in Cheerios (which I’ve been trying, BELIEVE YOU ME). I feel utterly unprepared and incompetent which is a wonderful addition to my already exhausted state.
So instead of getting a house ready for an entire new person (and since I can no longer argue about the car seat because we finally made a decision), I will now spend my time getting myself worked up about breast pumps and episiotomies. Yeah, I just said that. If I have to think about it, so do you.
Remember back in February when I voluntarily had a giant needle stuck in my wrist to get rid of that bump? And then it went away and everything was fine?
It’s not fine anymore.
I can’t see the bump yet, but I know it’s coming. How do I know? I can’t bend my wrist back farther than about 15 degrees.
There’s no way I’m going to deal with surgery right now, so I guess once it makes its appearance, I’ll get the bastard taken care of again. Because as of right now, lifting anything over 2 pounds hurts like holy hell.
Not counting the bread incident last night, here are some things that have brought me to tears over the last 24 hours…
-Jon & Kate plus 8.
-Work.
-The pile of laundry on the bedroom floor.
-Ross getting Pho for lunch with one of his friends. I don’t even like Pho.
-Shooter barking constantly.
-Not having as big a belly as the women that show up when I Google images of “16 week pregnant belly” and automatically thinking something is wrong with me.
-The prospect of shaving my legs.
When using the bread maker to make bread, it’s helpful to put the ingredients into the loaf pan that you left sitting in the sink, rather into the actual cavity of the machine. This way you won’t have to spend 10 minutes VACUUMING out the blasted machine while crying in your kitchen.
I am taking a break and will try again in a moment.
I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop screeching for the entire night. And considering I will most likely be a blubbery, whiny mess from not sleeping at all last night, I’m sure Ross would thank you, too. And my co-workers. And the population of the Metro-Richmond area.
Do you know how hard it is to scrub dog crap out of an 80 year old hardwood floor?
I do.
It’s very, very hard.
I didn’t sleep well Sunday night.
Or Monday night.
Or Tuesday night.
Or, you guessed, Wednesday night.
I came home this evening and started crying because I needed to load the dishwasher and because I couldn’t stop hiccupping.
I managed to get in a 30 minute nap, so I’m feeling much more human.
I still have the hiccups though.
My wrist hurts like holy hell.
Aaaaaaand it looks like the bump is already back.
Awesome.
Looks like arthroscopic surgery is in my future.
Again, awesome.
