My apologies to the blogoshpere

So...  lately I've had writer's block of some sort I guess.  I start off with something to say, but when I sit down to type the sentences don't come.  When I get paper and pen the words evade me and my thoughts wander to Facebook and yet another game of Solitaire.  It is obnoxious how much Solitaire I play.  Seriously.

I don't know why this is happening.  Its not like I lack for things going on in my life. I guess I'm just having a hard time with finding the words for it all.  And honestly do you want to hear a less than entertaining story about The Boy?  Again? 

Before when I would get all jumbled in all the thoughts I would stop and start writing it like I was telling a friend.  Unfortunately these days the thoughts are a jumble of pictures, random references that would take too long to explain why the hell my brain when that way and songs and movie lines.  So I apologize for the lack of witty post or insightful thoughts.  Perhaps its the uterine shunting and perhaps its my give a fuck that is on vacation.  Hard to tell.

And a statue will be erected in your honor....

I was thinking this weekend about a conversation I had with my mother in law when The Boy was just born.  I was recounting a story that involved Juanito helping with some aspect and she made a comment about how his father never helped with any of that.  “That” being taking care of his children.  I wanted to say well that should have been your first indicator that he was not a spectacular father but I held my tongue.  I do that every now and then, but rarely.  Sadly I was told this by many women in my family.  I have never really been sure what to make of it. Was I supposed to feel bad for them and how bad they had it with their lame husbands?  Was I supposed to feel thankful for having a husband who gave a shit about being a father?  Was I less of a mother because I’m not doing it all on my own? 

So this conversation and the questions it brings always bubble to the surface when I feel conflict with Juanito.  It’s a struggle to balance the house and careers and children and pets and car maintenance and home maintenance and laundry and cleaning and social lives and personal time oh and sleep.  I know that just like there are times that I feel like I carry more weight than Juanito there are times that he feels that too.  But I found myself having this internal dialogue while I was unloading and reloading the dishwasher for the third time in a weekend (a weekend that we ate out more often than ate in it mind you) and I thought, am I just supposed to accept this role and be thankful that he will change poopy Pull-ups (or worse poopy underwear)?  Am I asking too much that he do both?  And this is no reflection on Juanito and his side of load. (So don’t read into this Juanito.)  I’m asking more for all the working moms.  Is it too much of us to ask that the workload of maintaining house, home and family be evenly split?  Are we spoiled when our husbands share the workload?  Am I less of a mother and wife because he does? 

Then seriously this is the thought that comes into my head.  What about gay and lesbian couples?  They must have to struggle with sharing workload but do they grapple with the traditional roles?  How can I assume that mowing the yard is “his thing” when lesbian couples I know fight over who has to do yard work.  And then what about those couples that have children?  Do they have to talk it out and say “this is what I want to do and you can do this?”  Do they reexamine their plan to make sure everything is covered before implementing?  Because we do. 

When we started this relationship so long ago I know that everything was split.  Rent, closet space, cleaning, everything.  I know that if it hadn’t been this way I would have bailed on the relationship a long time ago.  We both went into it with this even-stevens mentality.  So why should I be grateful for a husband who would get up in the middle of the night with a newborn because my MIL didn’t have that?  I shouldn’t feel guilty that I can chat with friends or family while Juanito corrals The Boy.  And he sure as hell doesn’t deserve a parade for washing poopy underwear. 

Sometimes this adult thing sucks and the figuring it out part is exhausting. 

**Side note:  not sure how I’ve made the gay and lesbian population my litmus test for all things, but I find myself doing more and more these days.

Rule Follower

Driving home the other night from work I called Norma Rae.  Between the time difference and our kids this is typically the best time to talk.  Or a little at noon on Sundays because this is the beginning of our nap time and the end of hers.  But our calls happen so infrequently that when they do it never seems to be long enough to talk about everything, like we need to. The planets aligned and we were able to chat.  And we did for the rest of my 45 minute commute home.  Its a good time to catch up and it makes my drive so much better. 

During this phone call I needed to stop at the library and pick up a book that was on hold.  As I parked I told Norma Rae that I needed to run into the library but it was going to be real quick no need to hang up just that she needed to keep talking.  This is no problem for Norma Rae.  She is a story teller as well and can easily monopolize a conversation.  So has she launched into a story about a piano purchase I walked into the library.

In order to pick up books on hold at my local library, I walk in and make an immediate left walk probably 5 yards to where my request is on the hold shelf.  I walk back to the entrance, go up to computer kiosk, which is unmanned mind you, scan my card and my books, press the button to have the receipt emailed to me and walk out.  Its literally a 20 second transaction and I never once interact with a person.  I've done it many times in the past. *Gasp* I have been on the phone at the same time too! 

This time though the gentleman who is, and I use this term loosely, security asked me to finish my call before coming into the library.  I totally get it because there are rules and people don't follow but I hadn't said a word other than hello to him.  I would not have been saying a word during my 20 seconds while there.  I would have been less intrusive than the guy that is taking shelter from the heat in the library and apparently has something against personal hygiene, deodorant and is supportive of our natural pheromones.  Or the people who sound like they are one step from an iron lung coughing and hacking and making me imagine bathing in hand sanitizer. 

I was so incensed by this request.  the gall of this "security guard" to tell me to get off my call and if I a bluetooth he wouldn't have batted an eye but these calls happen so infrequently that how dare he make me follow the library rules.  believe I understand that I sound like an over privileged child have a major first world problem temper tantrum.  But I thought you know if I had been talking I would understand but I wasn't.  I was totally following the rules with a phone against my ear that is all. 

but because I am a rule follower, I stepped outside and, in a haughty tone, told Norma Rae that I would call her back in literally a minute because this guy won't let me walk in the library with a phone against my ear.  Believe you me, I glared at him when I left.  I'm sure he felt the rath of my anger in those blistering seconds. 

Where have I been and what have I been doing?

So I haven't posted in a while and I have no good excuse.  I mean I've started posts but haven't finished them. So let's try and finish those up and give you an idea of where I've been and what I've been doing. 

Memorial Weekend....

Memorial Weekend is a time to remember those who have bravely served our country and community.  Be it military, army reserves, police, or fire; this weekend is about honoring any person who puts on a uniform and puts their life on the line for others.

What did I do?  Well I Nair'd my cooter's sideburns in preparation of being in a swimsuit in front of people.  I also went to Schnepf's Farms, which was on the edge of the Earth, and picked peaches.  Twenty pounds of peaches later we came home.  Armed with ginormous clam shells of strawberries and blueberries from Costco we proceeded to gorged ourselves on fruit all weekend long.  On Saturday we went to Schmacey's for swimming and a BBQ.  I debuted my new maternity swim suit which I've never had before and thoroughly enjoyed our friends, even if they don't believe that we landed on the moon.  Then on Memorial Day itself we went out to my parent's house for an outstandingly awkward afternoon with my family and all of their idiosyncrasies. Nothing salutes our armed services like fruit and dysfunction!

The Pregnancy

Have I mentioned that this pregnancy is nothing like The Boy?  I might have mentioned it a time or ten.  Because it isn't.  I don't think that I have glowed once.  Well my aunt said I was but I think she was lying to make me feel better. I have pretty much a constant headache that ranges in a variety of intensities.  Sometimes I can't open my eyes and other times the throbbing only happens when I bend over.  I have consulted my doctor about this and first I need to make sure that its not my eyes and/or contacts before they worry.  Apparently the actual eyeball can change shapes and my contacts might be causing problems. We shall see but in the mean time Tylenol has become my new favorite friend.

Oh, and the crying....  the uncontrollable tears!  We were driving back from the edge of the Earth (Schnepft's Farm) and I fell apart crying because my grandpa died.  Nine years ago people. The man died nine years ago and I'm bawling because The Boy won't ride his tractor like I did.   I mean seriously get it together Sara! 

Loss

A very good friend lost his father a few weeks ago to cancer.  I had so many mixed emotions about it.  It seemed that our friends, Yennifer and her husband (it was his dad who passed), had been living their lives in limbo with the ups and downs of battling cancer.  I know that as the child you want the limbo rather than loose one of your parents.  But I know that there has to be some level of relief that there is no more fighting and that he is at peace.  But good Lord I am not prepared for us to start losing our parents.  I mean grandparents is sad to deal with but our parents?  We are not old enough to deal with that type of loss.  But, yet, here we are.  Oh and like I mentioned above, this did not bode well with the uncontrollable crying either.  I'm at the memorial service trying hard not to do one of those gasping inhales while bawling things when my friend was talking about his dad.  I was just a mess and it turned into a headache that lasted for two days. 

So that's where I've been and a little bit of what I've been doing.  Its all very exciting.  The temperatures have crept up here in the Valley an summer has officially started while other areas are barely seeing spring.  I envy your time in the sun "warming up" while we claim shady parking spots and avoid the outdoors for large chunk of time. 

Oklahoma and Flashbacks

Bombarding my eyes and ears and heart with coverage of the Oklahoma tornadoes. What am I thinking? Natural human curiosity gives way to a crying pregnant woman at work. Awesome. 

Irrational Fears

They say with your first baby mom is super paranoid of all things.  Don't eat hot dogs. Don't eat lunch meat.  Don't sit for too long.  Don't stand for too long.  Don't breath or drink unless it's been filtered.  Don't look at a snake because your baby will be cross-eyed.  Well I wasn't.  I was so freaking excited to be pregnant that I think I thought I was untouchable.  Immune to the possibilities that something bad would happen after all the time and effort it took to get here. 

They also say that with any subsequent children you worry less and less. Hence why they say the youngest child could swing from the rafters and parents don't worry.  Makes me wonder about about Michelle Duggar..... 

Anyways, that is  not true for me.  With Lucky #2 I am worried about everything.  We had the nuchal translucency test the other week that tests for chromosomal abnormalities,  such as Down's Syndrome.  I was so nervous about this test.  Since becoming a mom I have met a handful of people who have children with Down's that they didn't know about until the baby was born.  HOLY COW.  And even though my blood work and ultrasound are fine I still worry.  And will worry until my little pink, squishy bundle shows up.  

Other things I worry about to the point of anxiety for no good Goddamn reason:

1. Squishing the baby.  I'm afraid that I will sit hunched over at my desk for too long and the baby won't be able to grow because my fatness has taken up all the room my abdomen allows.  Like a gold fish that grows to the size of its container what if my fat rolls inhibit my baby's development and I end up with a baby the size of a doll?  This fear is only fueled by the stories my mother in law tells that my sister in law was so small when she was born she had to make clothes for her out of baby doll dress patterns.  And not to imply that my MIL is fat by any means.  It just goes to show that super small babies are in the chromosomal mix.

2.  Someone breaking in to the house.  Juanito has been out of town off and on recently and I battle the "What If" game.  What if someone broke into the house while I'm in the shower?  Or upstairs with The Boy?  Or in the backyard?  My cell phone is somewhere else and we don't have a land line.  What would I do?  I agonize over each step thinking that formulating a plan will ease the anxiety but its only really just fuels it.  I might have an escape route drafted in my head, but I also have a racing heart rate and sweaty palms.  This has caused me to start looking at getting a land line as well as where to strategically put the phones in case of an intruder. 

3. The baby moving.  This ties into item number 1.  I've started feeling the baby move and when I do it freaks me out because I'm afraid of squishing the baby.  Last night this happened so I stretched out on the couch until I didn't feel it anymore. This curbed the beginnings of an anxiety attack. It occurred to me that in the near future I won't have this luxury because the baby will be bigger and will be felt regardless of what position I am.  So will I just have to have the meltdown?  How will I function if I am always two steps away from a complete meltdown?

4. Wearing too tight of clothes.  I bought the belly band when I was like 8 weeks along because I didn't want to wear tight clothes.  Because of issue number 1.  Also it was uncomfortable.  But really it goes back to being afraid of squishing the baby.  If I could wear yoga pants to work I would. 

5. Getting in an accident.  I worry about getting into a car accident, or even any accident that might land me in the hospital.  I worry about how we will juggle The Boy.  Which hospital will I be at and will it be convenient to our house?  Will The Boy still be able to go to daycare?

I know that ALL of this is ludicrous to worry about but I do.  Dear Lord I do.  I wonder about it when I'm driving to work.  Or taking a shower.  Or trying to fall asleep.  I worry about everything under the sun happening and try and figure a solution of every possible scenario.  Its exhausting. 

Coming Out

So this Juanito and The Boy took a road trip to go visit some family.  I had all weekend to myself.  It was glorious.  It was gluttonous.  It was productive.  It was lonely.  I was so happy when they arrived safely home.  The Boy greeted me with a bundle of fake red roses that had faded in the sun.  Apparently he stole them from a family member's flower pot and she, loving The Boy to dangerously spoiling levels, said he could have them.  Thanks to Ana I now have faded red fake roses in my house because they are for my "burtday. "