Pampers

Ha! It's not what you think! Well, sorta.

I've been total Erupta Girl! lately. It really is the hormones, but I'm sure it's exacerbated by the pressure of getting everything done and ready, and almost all of that is my doing, which doesn't make the doing much different from all my other doings in more normal times. Still, I am prone to losing ALL of my patience almost immediately and at the slightest thing! Most of the time, I'd like to think that I'm pretty easy to live with. Lately? Hmmm. Not so sure.

Setting this up . . . there's a lot to think about and get done, my patience is minimal and its lack is often accompanied by loud outbursts, and my perfect husband is, well, a teeny bit imperfect lately.

I went to bed last night all irritated. It's partly because yesterday was a pretty hectic day. Let me spell it out:

1. Got ready (insert Sideshow Bob shiver of irritation here). Loaded up the car with kid, dog, breakfast, items needed to get through day.

2. Dropped off the dog (who grows more irritatingly impertinent each day) after listening to her slide on Stevie's art masterpieces all the way into Hometown, masterpieces which Stevie had ceremoniously put on the floor of the backseat, yet this fact did not stop him from whining about Dottie putting her dirty feet on them. Implored Stevie to stop whining, yelled at (deafening) dog that she was driving me crazy for doing something she could not help doing.

3. Got gas. But only after dumping the contents of my tote bag on my already overloaded passenger seat. My open wallet had emptied into my tote bag and the only card I couldn't find was my frickin' credit card! Found it, got gas, griped about knowing that one of my tires was lower than the others but there's no air pump and the air pump I tried to use at another gas station a few days before actually sucked air OUT of the tire.

4. Ran through the bank to withdraw $20. Thankfully uneventful.

5. Dropped Stevie off at school. His classroom is the absolute furthest one from the door, and Stevie likes to "drag" himself against the walls of the long hallways all the way to it, slowing his progress significantly.

6. Got to work. Got through it.

7. Left work at 1:40 to go to the OB. Kev called from the road around Mansfield, saying he would drive in and see if I was still there. I let him off the hook--he got home at 3 and started gluing his newest bowl together instead of cleaning the house and making dinner. Mixed feelings.

8. Endured the doctor cramming fingers into cervix and telling me that, nope, I'm "maybe" 1 cm dilated. Still, elated at his "promise" that I would not go to term. Baby no more than 2 weeks away!

9. With time to kill, went to Old Navy to buy straggling Christmas presents. Lamented that the girls had all the cute clothes and I have boys. Reflected that I will be happy about this in the years to come.

10. Picked up Stevie at school. He dragged himself down the length of the wall, and then pointed out that the construction paper bats on the school "tree" had "fuzzy noses! Touch them, Mommy!" Touched a bat's nose, exclaimed at its fuzziness, tried to remain patient because I know that children need "transition time" between activities and dragging him to the car would be bad form.

11. Stopped at Blockbusters and grabbed the first 4 movies that appealed at all, bought a few gift certificates for my 1/2 brother, felt lame that I was getting him gift cards when I was making my other brother something for Christmas, got over it, bought Stevie a Star Wars popcorn tin.

12. Went through Wendy's to get Stevie some food and indulge in some fries. Had minor traumatic episode when I discovered that pretty much every ketchup packet in my console thingy was covered with a sticky substance (honey?). Considered just how pissed I would get if, somehow, ketchup (catsup?) was transferred from anywhere to the gold and white jacket that I had just purchased for Nova's baby. Moved the bag because that is JUST the sort of thing that would happen to me. Wondered why the Wendy's worker told me that she would "be sure" that there would be lots of ketchup in the bag when there was none! Secretly glad that rude teenager at a McDonald's long before had urged me to keep the copious packets that I hadn't asked for "just in case", even though I swore long ago to never keep packets of ketchup in my car. Pulled out, ate a fry, quickly surmised that fry was in quasi-done condition. Knowing that I would only get worse if I gave in to the crappy fries, I quickly pulled around (spilling Stevie's fries) and got fresh, new, fully-cooked fries--for both of us. Contemplated just how lucky Wendy's was that I didn't have to wait in drive-thru line for the new fries.

13. Went to Stevie's doctor to discover the cause of his coughing. After 45 minutes, found out that he, indeed, had an ear infection.

14. Popped around the corner to pick up the dog and some too-hot frozen chicken wings from my parent's house. Dottie nearly refused to jump into the car under her own power. Grew increasingly frustrated because I don't want to help her--she CAN do it--and I shouldn't be deadlifting 60-pound dogs at this point in my life.

15. Drove to the dreaded CVS pharmacy to fill Stevie's prescription. Missed having a Target nearby. Spent 20-30 minutes milling around the store, waiting. Ever waiting. Bought tissue paper for presents and a cleanser/moisturizer combo for my sensitive skin. Ignored Stevie's pleas for a tabletop pinball machine, despite its retro charm and my own pleasurable pinball experiences. Happy with purchases, distraught over growing mess in car.

16. Drove home (25 minutes). Kevin actually doing dishes! No supper, but bowl was glued (Phew! That's a load off!). Asked him to "do ONE thing"--unload and PUT AWAY dry clothes and put wet clothes into dryer. Dry clothes made it to a pile on the couch, unfolded. Decided to ignore it (though my subconscious didn't), made a PB, honey, and banana sandwich. Watched "Office Space", which was funny, yet irritating because Kev and Stevie were being rather loud (including crying) and our DVD player sucks so the volume has to be all the way up so you can barely hear it, so I was trying to listen to a movie but Kevin and Stevie were being loud (including crying) . . . . Had mild outburst, got visually scolded by husband.

17. Showered. For a looooong time. Grew increasingly pissed at husband's lack of shoulder rubs. After all, he's spent maybe 20-25 minutes rubbing my shoulders, spread out over three rubs, and only then after I had apologetically asked for the massage! Yet he has no qualms about spending HOURS in the barn. HOURS! And here I am, in pain pretty much all the time, and I have to ask for backrubs and then feel a little guilty because I have no intention of reciprocating soon, and he can see how maintaining the house in its usual condition pretty much cripples me, yet I'm still doing all of my regular chores, preparing for the holidays, AND preparing for the baby and I'm getting NO BREAKS from this! Growing as steamed as my bathroom mirror. Remembering that I've said very similar things many times in the past and nothing much has changed. Who's a gal gotta blow to get some pampering around here?! Decided that I wasn't in the mood to give husband what he wants when he wasn't giving me what I want or even NEED, according to the pregnancy book that said that I should really not be doing all that I regularly do, as in housework and stuff. Decided to go to bed mad.

18. Laid in bed, mad, trying to read book that deals with Vlad the Impaler. Vlad the Impaler has always freaked me out. In those moments where I was actually 'in' the book, wondered why I was reading something that was sorta scary and dealt with the evil that folks do to others in this blessed fucking (baby and holiday) season, as my Dear Mother always says. Perhaps I should be reading something more cheerful.

This Morning's Moment of Truth:

Husband (Kevin) says "good morning". "I suppose" was my annoying reply. After being prompted, voiced my complaints, which centered around needing more help around the house, and just being a little bit needy. I don't feel bad about being needy because I'm usually not (and he's damn lucky. Note that I let him off the doctor appointmentS hook just the day before!). And my dear Kevin's reply? "You're right. I'll try to do better." Reminded him, in a friendly and Yoda-like manner, that there is no try while giving and receiving a long hug. Felt better!