Daily Archives: September 3, 2012

Silence Speaks Volumes…


I’m feeling alone lately. So alone, in fact, that the only reminder that I’m really not alone is fetal kicks from the inside, reminding me that I have to eat something, the demands of my almost 4 year old who has no idea where his truck/movie/bike is, and my two year old, wandering around the house saying “Rora rora adora” which is code for Dora, a certain cartoon character that I occasionally let her watch so that I can have 5 minutes to take care of a mundane chore around the house. I don’t condone letting my kids watch tv all day… but if it allows me to get the dishes done in peace, I’ll let it happen.

I talk to my husband on the phone for half an hour a day. Half an hour. That’s it. He might as well be in prison, and not 6 hours away at work, because that’s all I get of him, basically a rushed phone conversation that consists of “The-insurance-went-down-the-baby-is-fine-according-to-the-Dr.-I-paid-the-rent-utilities-cell-phone-etc-your-mother-is-fine-MY-mother-is-fine-we-had-x-for-dinner-I-need-a-vacation.” Can you imagine, in a marriage, only getting that every day?? It sucks. He’s my best friend and I get next to nothing. When he is home, he’s home for 4-5 days, and then he’s gone again.

I might get to go visit him in the next 3 or 4 weeks, (He won’t be home for almost another 2 months…) but that’s to pack up the stuff at his work apartment that he doesn’t need and bring it back to our house… Packing? Didn’t I JUST pack a house? Oh, yeah… that’s right, I just packed the houses we just moved out of and into respectively… I don’t look forward to packing another one, but it has to be done, and if the Dr. allows me to continue driving, I’ll be the one to do it because I’m the one that takes care of their apartment. They can’t, as they work 12 hour days, so once a month I go out there and clean up. pay the bills, buy the groceries etc… I don’t mind, but at 25 weeks pregnant, I’m getting paranoid about the drive.

Unpacking this house has become such a chore, because I know it’s only temporary. We signed a 1 year lease. That’s all we’re guaranteed, and in the last 4 years, that’s the longest I’ve been allowed to stay in a house. 1 Year. Do you understand how hard it is to unpack, knowing that I’ll be leaving in a year? It has caused panic attacks and I’m not sleeping, THAT’S how hard it is. It has caused me to get an average of 3 hours of sleep a night for the last week, caused me to “wake up” from a semi coma having screaming panic attacks. Since we brought her home from the hospital, my daughter can now claim having lived at 4 different addresses. 4. She’ll be 2 in November.

Speaking of bringing home a baby from the hospital… I’m pregnant, not dead, but my friends seem to forget this. Forgive me for sounding selfish, but I want to have my friends hang out with me. I want to be invited to go out for dinner, and have coffee, or be invited for “girl’s night out” and maybe even go for a couple hours. It hurts to see all my friends going out, for dinner, for girl’s nights, just to hang out at the park, and not being invited… Worse yet, seeing that it happened and I *could* have done it because the kids are at Grandma’s for a night to give me a break, and they knew that and still didn’t extend the invitation. I’m not even going to hold my breath for a baby shower, because I KNOW it won’t happen. My friends can’t even invite me to hang out with them one on one, I’d have to be high on something illegal to believe they’ll gather in a room to celebrate this baby.  I’ve settled on just buying the necessities from the second hand baby store, and there is nothing wrong with that… but honestly? It would be nice to have everyone gather in a room and eat cake and drink tea and hang out with me and enjoy the company that only comes from a group of people gathering together in mutual celebration of something. I don’t even care about the gifts, I just want my friends back… and I want to feel like they care that I’m pregnant, and *not* hear “So, when ya due to calve THIS one??” like it’s such a crime to have a family… I want people to be happy for me, not laughing behind my back!!

I recently had someone correct something I “always” do when I’m typing, and the mood I was in before has this correction still bothering me… Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t really care, I am usually pretty good with spelling and grammar issues, at least in my own opinion, but now… I don’t know. I’m worried that everything I do is wrong and I’m being judged for it. I was already having a bad few days, and that really made me feel like an idiot. A lonely, pathetic, friendless idiot.

 

I thought this would make me feel better…


Busty Girl Problems: Shoulder Straps


In honor of school starting back up: