|Well, Hello Wyatt! ^|
Yay for getting my weekly update done on time!!! Woop woop!!!
First things first, we didn’t get the dream house. The seller was ‘insulted’ by our offer. Well, let me tell you something Asshat: You can’t list a property that neither YOU nor YOUR REALTOR have seen in 3 years, and expect to get what it was worth 3 years ago……especially when the last tenants trashed it. So have fun paying 2 mortgages, because no one is going to give you your asking price for a piece of property that’s 40 minutes from civilization and needs 20K worth of work. (Besides us, of course.)
There. That’s my bitch for the day. I’m done. Kinda.
I’m not going to lie, I was really thinking this was going to be the answer to our prayers. I mean, the house is perfect for us, and it came on the market just in time to move from our current house to that one, with no need to rent or move a 3RD time. I was stoked! Everything was going to work out!! So I thought.
Now that it’s not, I really got down about it. But I talked with my Mom and she said that maybe there’s another property that’s even better than this one, and everything happens for a reason, and we’ll be fine, and blah blah blahbity blah. And today I’m feeling a little better about it, but I’m still disappointed. Oh well.
It’s just that I didn’t expect things to be like this. I mean, what I pictured, when I got pregnant, was decorating the nursery and picking out bedroom furniture, and buying stuffed animals. And really relishing in the fact that we’re having a little one, ya know? And now it just seems like all the attention is on a house, or moving, or bills, or can we afford this, and we don’t have any time to do anything, and packing up our endless shit. I just hate it. This is not what it was supposed to be like.
And I had my 32nd birthday last week and it was about as exciting as doing the above packing…..while in a coma. My birthday has always been one of those things that I’ve loved because all the attention is on me!! Lol. But this year….not so much. And it’s ok, but it just sucks. The one special day all about myself, and all I did was buy size LardAss maternity pants, venture to Wally World for potato salad, and drop $25 on a ice cream cake. Parrrrr-Tay.
Oh, and my PC broke at home. Like we have the money for that. Hopefully the IT guru at work can fix it. If not, I’m dropping the $$$ for a Mac. I just bought that computer like 4 years ago. And it’s already shit. $800 down the drain. Awesome.
I know, I’m whining. And I know that not everyone gets what they want. And I know that no one ever has a perfect pregnancy or even what they imagined it to be like comes true. But damn it, that’s what this blog is; a place for me to whine. And bitch. And complain. So there.
I’ll get over it. I always do.
I’m trying to be positive.
I’m trying to look on the bright side.
But sometimes it’s just too much.
I mean, since a little before Christmas, we found out we’re having a baby, I’ve dis-owned my biological father, we sold our house, we have yet to find a new house, we have to move to a rental (which means moving 3 times), I’m working overtime, I didn’t get a birthday really, and I may have to buy a new computer.
Yup, just a little too much for this chica who sits on the edge of being laced up in a straight jacket and shoved in a mental ward, on a good day.
And maybe it’s the hormones, because I feel like balling about every 5 seconds this week.
Regardless, it’s done. It’s over with.
Ok, so besides the whining and weepiness, things are just dandy! I noticed that I’ve been getting tired easily. Last Mon. night I was packing, cleaning, and doing laundry from the minute I walked in the door till my head hit the pillow and just plain exhausted myself. So on Tues. night, when I got home from work, I pretty much just went to bed. But I’ve decided not to push myself. I’m just going to do some packing for an hour or two every night, then relax for another couple hours. That way I get stuff done, but I’m not killing myself.
I have yet to get back to the gym. I just don’t have time. I’d have to get up at Satan’s asscrack to work out in the morning (and we all know that’s not going to happen), and by the time I get home and eat, then start packing, it’s almost 8pm and I’m ready for bed. So, I’m trying to take the stairs at work. And get up and walk every few hours, just around the buildings. And I think the packing and being on my feet when I get home counts as something. Actually, I don’t give two shits if it counts or not. I’m counting it. So there. Basically I’m not going to worry about it until we get moved.
As far as eating goes, I’m also not worrying about it so much. I’m trying to get in protein and veggies. It happens. Every so often. But I’m really trying to make an effort to get more in every day. I’m counting that too.
Good news is I’m not a raging chocoholic lately!!! Dolphin claps for me.
I’ve been munching on a little chocolate for a lunch snack, and then something at dinner, but I’m not wanting to shove it in my hole 23.6 hours a day or anything. So that’s good.
The belly is getting bigger and more tight (even though you can't tell in the above picture). I still think I look like I went on a beer bender for two months, but every so often I’ll catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and think, ‘Oh ya, you’re pregnant!’
BTW, the LardAss maternity pants I bought last weekend don’t fit me now. They’re too big. Apparently I was smoking the magic pipe when I tried those on at the store. I now have to take them back and re-live the whole experience. I’m thrilled.
OK! On to Baby Girl!!!
No, we’re not telling the name. So sorry. You’ll just have to wait another 19 weeks (….Miss Laura O.!).
She’s been a little quiet this week. Only moving around after my cracked-out packing mission I went on Mon. night. Apparently she hates moving as much as her mama does.
This week Baby Girl is about 11 inches and weighs about 11 ounces. She’s been swallowing several ounces of amniotic fluid each day, not only for nutrition and hydration, but to practice those swallowing skills! Apparently the fluid tastes like whatever I ate during the day. And she’ll remember that when she’s older. Here’s to another chica loving jalapenos, Toaster Strudels, pizza, and ice cream (not all mixed together)!! It also means that I REALLY need to be eating veggies, because she’ll get used to the taste now and like it more later on. Unlike me, who grew up hating veggies. **Note to self: Eat those veggies!!!
She’s also still twisting, turning, and doing the occasional summersault. She’s still got plenty of room in there, but pretty soon, that cramped feeling will come when she’s too big to do much. Better practice now little one!!!