Frozen Brain = Boring Post

My mind freezes when I think of what to write. Defeats the purpose, right?

I had my second OB appointment Wednesday morning. All my blood work was good. Measuring good. Gained one pound. (for a total of five) Apparently all is going smoothly. He listened to the heartbeat, let me, but I don't think I heard it right, sounded more like my stomach sounds. I have my next appointment April 22nd. He said they'd make my u/s appointment around the 18th week. (which should be around May 10th) I'll find out the sex (hopefully). I like to be prepared.

Last Thursday when I picked up Tide, he was sleeping in the office. 101.2 fever. Thursday night and Friday it held, Saturday he felt better, the nose started to run, Sunday it turned into a cough and has been since. All night long (it seems). Every day he seems a little better. I just am tired of this routine. He's been coughing since December. I've read it's common with his asthma, but you would think his medication would relieve it, which it doesn't. The coughing has also triggered several vomiting incidents. Lovely.

I'm not big on the Holiday thing. Well, especially the religion and holiday thing. Like what does the bunny have to do with Jesus? Not my gig, thanks. Easter is the Bunny to me. I'll skip the religious stuff. Tide, being sick, missed his Daycare's egg hunt and party on Friday. Ray's sister Dawn and family stayed in our trailer. (they live about 2½ hours away) Sunday morning we hid 159 eggs for the three little kids. Tide (2), Mark (3) and Katie (5). They were so much fun to watch. Man, small kids are cute. Needless to say Tide was proud of his breakfast. "Candy" he replied with a smile. We really don't give him a lot of candy/sweets, though you wouldn't think that watching him. He is obsessed. I mean B-A-D. Evil chocolate child back! So, I hid it all. I hid it so well that R and I are a bit ill thinking about how much we've consumed. Yuck. No candy with the next Holiday... I promise.

Though I do have to add, I have a renewed passion for peanut butter cups. Sadly, they are all gone.

I'm doing laundry while I'm writing this, (I'm also working), the machine is off balance and is now prancing across the floor. As long as it doesn't come through the door, I'll be fine. I think.

Time has passed, and I'll probably chalk this up as the boring post. I just spent 1 hour and 15 minutes looking up parts for a customer. I didn't realize until late in the game that my cut off times for ordering all were closing in around me. So, in the end I was frantically calling three of my distributors searching for parts to complete this customers order. In the end, I'll end up with a profit of roughly $30 for my time and efforts. Sigh.

Insert evil laugh -- here --

Oh, to be able to properly write out that ghoulish laugh that makes everyone's heads turn...

I finally got away with one! I finally begged, pleaded and tried to bribe Tide's pediatrician into writing his prescription for MORE than he needed. Why? So, I can happily overdose my child of course! No, silly, so I can fuck the system.

After going through two years of NO PRESCRIPTION COVERAGE, in which I ordered some from Canada, paying a THIRD of the price. Or I was crumpled into a ball of hate when I doled out hundreds for some of Tide's needed medications. Seething with every ounce of hate I could muster, wondering if the system would ever have a hope of changing.

My favorite little prescription story is from one of Tide's many hospital stays. The doctor on duty was signing us out, ready to write on her script pad a simple medication I would need to fill immediately. (like must stop on way home with ill child to fill kind of thing) I casually beg her to have it filled in house, since the insurance will cover anything, (within their stated boundaries), that is administered in the hospital and I'd have to pour the money out of the vault if I go to the pharmacy. Can't I just take it home, I plead. Needless to say she was very compassionate, as is our regular pediatrician, and sent out a request for the medication to be filled. I get said medication, go home, nurse boy back to health and all is well.

Kind-of. This was the huge insurance battle of my life. (so far) My insurance company would not cover the hospital we went to. (out of network) I fought tooth and nail and some six months later, I won. Yeah! My point to all this jammering is that I had a lovely itemized bill from the hospital! The one prescription I begged for was marked down for the tune of $83 and change. I had to fill the same prescription after that hospital stay, and had to do it on a Sunday leaving only a rather expensive pharmacy to go to, they charged me $22. (Had I bought it at Wa11mart, which I find the more affordable place here, it would have been $14.)

A perfect example of how seriously fucked up the health system is. A Doctor will charge $400 for a visit and the Insurance company will pay them $60. Where if you aren't so lucky and have no insurance you get to pay $400. Yippee. Seems fair to me, right? It's just wrong, so very wrong.

So, needless to say, I won! I picked up Tide's meds last night to find Dr. L had called in a script for double his dose, thus splitting my co-pay in half! Heh, heh, heh.

Ramblings

Getting used to this whole Blogging thing here. I haven't dawdled in programming since college and even then I was just focused on my assignment not on the whole picture. Not to say I didn't enjoy it as much as to say I DO NOT remember it. So, as the dust flies and I start cranking up the ole' brain cells that haven't done much more than clack away on a calculator for the last ten years, I'm finally getting some of this. Phew. I can't even imagine trying to learn a second language I think I'd crumple on the floor before even opening the book! (though I'd love to learn Spanish to open up that travel door... Ah... the travel-door. Like that'll happen. sigh.)

So in my glee of finally "getting" some of this... (I don't claim or quibble that I may even remotely be good or efficient at any of it.)... I can't help but show off a new skill!

I woke up early to be the everything* this morning... since R had ventured out here this morning with some of Deb's company. (don't ask) I return from dropping Tide off and sit down to get my daily dose, (or small portion of the actual DAILY dose I take!), of catching up in blogdom. Soon after adjusting my seat and letting my eyes scan the screen like an old typewriter, allowing each line to "ziiiiippppp, erp, ching" to return to the next and repeat. Soon I have this shit eating grin on my face as my dear friend has captured the essence of real women boobs . Thank you so very much for the smile, the laugh and for the eloquent words in which you describe most 30-something breast feeding mother boobs to a T.

*not that I don't do most of the morning things anyway... get Tide up, bathed, teeth, clothes, car, daycare, open the shop, phones, worker, remember my own breakfast as I feel faint from my low blood sugar.

So, as I really did start my day off on my good foot, (opposed to the one I usually start out on and end up on), even though I woke up at 5 instead of my casual 6:30 I prefer, I'm still feeling pretty good. I can attribute some of this cheeriness to a recent BM that made me realize I really hadn't gone in a while and the extra iron in my prenatal vits might be taking it's toll on my body, thus the horrible pains and cramps I've been experiencing. I love being a paranoid freak. I was planning on calling my doctor today if it didn't let up. Lo and behold, last night's relief.

Speaking of shit, I find it just amazing how much I talk about shit since becoming a mother, Really, it's true. As any Mother can vouch for, (if she's being honest with herself), having a baby makes you talk about shit. Size, shape, texture, color and smell. Hmmm yummy. Nothing better than when you realize you are trying to diagnose your child's ailment from his or her shit. In doing so you are telling someone else about it! It gets really sad when you realize half way through a conversation with someone you barely know that your topic is... uh, shit. Nice.

I think I've figured out part of my issues. (or should I say a very small crumb off the big cookie?) I'm from New England! Need I say anymore? Need I explain how a Southerner might construe my "yes", as the bitch wrath venom hissing assault!? How R and other family members think I'm harsh or that I snap at them too much? I hustle my way through things not because I'm in an upset frenzy, but more to get-it-done. I snap a reply out not to offend these mild mannered souls, but to get-on-with-it. Point A to point B please, I don't have time for the C, D+E way. (Though I wish I could stop and move slowly through things, still achieving the same outcome.) My life just doesn't happen that way. So, in turn, I become pasted to the wall as the ultimate snappy bitch. Ah, to be so loved. I know they don't really mean it, they just don't understand. So, now that I've seen the light and blame the cold weather and seasonal changes for all my "oddities", I know what to do. Next time I see that disapproving glance or glare emanating from either R or one of my dear southern family members, I'll remember to slowly tell them to fuck off, instead of barking it at them.

In all reality, I am kidding of course. It is an issue for me. My communication skills worked fine "up North", but have been failing me rapidly down here. Seeing that I've been "down here" for ten years, you'd think I'd have things figured out by now... what do they say about the old dog...

Which leads me on to customers. Being the one member of our business team, (R and I), that has to deal with our dear customers on a daily basis, it's no wonder they think I'm a bitch. Besides being the money Nazi, I have this female thing going on. You know, a woman in a man's field that actually knows what she's talking about. It slaps me in the face on a daily basis and I rear my ugly head and beat it back into the ground with my snide remarks. I can't help myself. When a man (or woman, believe it or not) calls to speak to someone about their engine, and I tell them to go ahead. They stammer a bit and repeat their request with the added, "I'd like to talk to a man about my engine." I politely, with my clenched jaw, offer to take a message if they insist or I offer for them to try me, I can probably help. At which time, they either hang up,(really, or stomp out of the office if in person), or ask some dumbass question about what kind of oil or spark plug to use. (not to put down the nice people who actually ask me the question, in all reality- none of their questions are stupid- it's more how they would trust a man's answer over a woman's based entirely on the penis factor) Which even if I didn't know the answer, (which I did/do), we have plenty of books handy that explain it to any average idiot. When this kind of reception started upon my first getting into this business, I was all feminist in your face to these fucking assholes. I've since calmed down a bit, and so have a lot of my customers. If they don't want to hear it from me, then they really can go somewhere else. I don't need their shit. (I have my own, thanks.)

Ladybug, Puppies and Pregnancy

Yesterday morning, Tide was running around the house in his usual morning fervor. I'm trying to brush my teeth and clean the toilet with my toes or some other ridiculous combination. I hear Tide come running... "Mommy Mommy come EAR".... "Mommy Mommy it's a bug!" ... "What kind of Bug Tide?" I asked, not really wanting to know. "It's a ladybug!" Tide exclaims, as he's grabbing my arm trying (yeah right) to drag me towards the kitchen. I'm game, so let him. "Where is it?" I ask. "Right TH-ear" as Tide points toward the base of the refrigerator. "See Mommy? A Lady bug!" I say, "No Tide, that's really NOT a Ladybug... that's a cockroach!" I grab a newspaper to do the ceremonial squish... I realize after whack one, when the thing didn't move, that it had already kicked the bucket. "Did you kill the bug Tide?" I asked, surprised since the thing really wasn't there minutes before when I was last in the kitchen, so it must have crawled there. "I killed it with my SWORD!" proudly states my dear two year old cockroach slayer. (yes, he does have a plastic sword... so does R and they do joust on a daily basis)

Tide woke up screaming bloody murder this morning. There is nothing wrong with him, he just wants either something to drink (which he really doesn't need) or to get up an hour or two earlier than we want to. So, We've been working on trying to get him to re-settle on his own and let us sleep until the normal wake up time. Tide has two baby gund blue puppies he got when he was born. (a customer who understood the meaning of a favorite lost toy, bought two, so we could hide one and bring it out when the other was misplaced. Well, it didn't take Tide long to realize he had two of these lovely puppies. So now he wants not just his one puppy, he wants his TWO puppies.) Well, when he starts this crying wailing in the morning routine, it is so fake it really makes you want to laugh. I mean the actor in the making. So, we've been trying various things to get him to stop and go back to sleep. One being the threat. I'll take your puppies. Of course he doesn't want that, because that would just be a tragedy wouldn't it? Well, this morning ended our crying session with taking his one puppy, his big puppy, two tigers and a stuffed manatee out of his crib. He stopped crying, we slept until the alarm sounded and our day began.

So I'm feeling like warmed over shit lately. I hate to whine about this, but I just don't remember feeling this way when I was pregnant with Tide. Yesterday and today I've had this painful aching in my upper abdomen and lower rib cage. So bad it's made me nauseous. I have lost my appetite. Especially for any of my previously favorite foods. I'm not big enough for maternity clothes, but all my other clothes are too tight. I bought a pair of shorts a size too big and they make me look like an elephant. I'm getting a steady flow of headaches on a daily basis. The end of my tongue feels like someone is inserting razor blades into it trying to see just how many can go there before I scream. (I don't remember doing anything to my tongue, I don't think I bit it, or burnt it) Of course, my memory is completely shot. Which is making my business skills a bit less than is desired. In fact I was casually mailing out our corporate income tax forms today and noticed the due date of MARCH 15th. Fuck me. What does that mean to the IRS? I am beyond exhausted right now. I feel as if I could sleep for days without getting up and still be tired. And lastly, my hands and feet are already starting to swell, something that didn't start until 18 weeks with Tide. Lovely.

How to live (or not) with a sister-in-law shoved up your ass

Enter stage left, Deborah/Debbie/Deb. Deb is R's half sister by his Father. She started visiting us roughly 6 years ago. Prior to that R had very little contact with her. She grew up in Michigan, he in Florida. She is 12 years older then he is.

Several years ago she started coming down for a week every February to visit. Staying in our travel trailer parked on our property along the Indian River.* It was fun at first, meeting and seeing his wild half sister from Missouri. Eventually she started bringing various buddies down with her during her vacations. R and I were convinced from early on that had we lived inland we'd be considered lucky if she ever visited us, let alone stay with us. It was our location on the water that had the inviting touch that R's sister Dawn or Mother's inland Florida homes didn't have.

*Our property and location is a little confusing. We own a nice size property that the majority lies on the west side of US HWY 1, the other portion on the east side is directly on the river. We built a dock there and have a camping area set up to enjoy our weekends on the water. Eventually we'd like to build our home there, but have a lot of red tape to go through before that will be possible.

As the years wore on, so did our welcome mat. Last year, Deb decided to stay for a full month instead of her usual week visit. This time under the pretense of looking for property in the area to move here. She brought a friend of hers, whom we had met before but didn't care for. The friend is a rude disrespectful woman. It was not a pleasant experience for anyone. Deb went home after her month. Soon after we were posed with a very awkward question. Would it be okay for Deb to park a house boat at our Dock to live on?

R and I are very private. We don't have friends we hang out with on a regular basis, we prefer to be alone. We run a business that makes us known in most public places we frequent, so our time off we really like to be left alone. Knowing that having her there would severely alter our life, it was a topic I didn't even want to discuss. A little time passed and we realized that IF we said no, we would be splitting the family in half. We would never see Deb or her family. Period. We would be the bad guys. So, we reluctantly said okay...

Deb moved down in June of last year. Staying in our trailer, our living room and R's Mother's spare room. Shortly after she moved here it was finally released that she was going to divorce her husband. Ugly divorce and financial hardships follow. Hurricanes and Divorce postponed the arrival of her house boat, but it finally made it here in early December. We had not rebuilt our dock from it's demise during Hurricane #2, so could not have the boat easily put into the water and casually tied to the end of our dock. Said boat is currently parked on the land by the river on blocks. It is all of 45ft long and 10ft wide. It has no trailer or easy means of being put into the water. We finally do have the dock rebuilt, but still do not have the electricity, water, or her needed tie off poles in. All of which will cost US money we don't have.

To top off this lovely relationship we have, both R and I can barely tolerate being near her at all now. We have found out by living up each other's asses that Deb is not the person we thought she was. She is indeed a player. She knows exactly what she needs to do and say to get exactly what she wants. She's a professional. She has borrowed money from us to help get her boat delivered here, she has borrowed money from R's Mother. She is working making decent money, only pays her electric bill, and yet has not mentioned or offered to pay us back. Not too bad to have a place on the water in Florida for $60/month. Fucking sounds great to me!

She drinks a lot. Which is her own deal not mine, but in doing so, she is barely ever together enough to talk to. We do not trust her with Tide anymore, after she was watching him on her boat, helped him climb up to the roof of her boat, (15ft off the ground), and left him there while she answered a phone call. Not bothering to get the phone and climb up to her roof to watch Tide. She left him up there. When we realized she was not going up on the roof, R ran over to her boat and climbed up to Tide. She always has a few words about how we should be raising Tide, which I just find completely offensive. I welcome constructive criticism, I do not need someone to flat out tell me I'm doing something wrong concerning my son. Especially when I do not agree with her view at all.

She also comes into our house and takes things. Sometimes telling us, other times we just notice it missing and find it in her boat. Mostly kitchen things. Utensils, spices, dishes... One day we were eating over on the water and she brought out a bunch of spices. One of which was a German spice my friend gave to me. (She has her mother send it from Germany... NOT available in the US) I made a comment on how much I liked that spice. She said oh yes, I like it too! So, I asked where did she ever find it... She said she got that at Wa11mart. She ended up passing out shortly after that, so I packed up my German spice along with our stuff and brought it home.

A little while after she first moved down here, she hadn't found a job yet, and the divorce was getting heated. So, R and I let go the woman who was working for us on Saturdays, and hired Deb to work from 8-12 Saturday mornings for $40. (A note: the woman who did work for us was getting a lot of complaints, so we were considering letting her go regardless.) We figured she'd do fine and be able to make some extra money, knowing she needed it. Well, R's mother thinks Deb should not take this money from us. Since we are giving her a place to live without charging her anything. Especially since she does have a job and is making a decent wage. (considering she's only working three days plus our four hours on Saturday)

A couple of weekends ago we wanted to spend it on the water in our trailer. We didn't because we wouldn't be able to be alone.

We feel terribly used. Deb has no respect for us. No respect for our belongings or the land she's parked on. Her boyfriend (yes, boyfriend) treats us like children, which I find completely aggravating.

R is convinced that if we can get her in the water that she won't be able to handle the boat. Which will lead to her moving. I disagree. I think she'll be there in the water or on land until we kick her out. At which time we'll be the bad guys.

Back to "Normal"

So, everything is back to normal, like nothing ever happened. How long does this go on before someone or something snaps? (years so far)

I did shut down several conversations that R started. The ones that go something like,"...and I'll move out of here so YOU can have your space, since you don't want me anymore... and I'll pack my stuff up and go so you don't have to look at me... ". I told him to stop, since I do Love him, I do not Hate him, Do not want him to leave and have NEVER said anything of the sort.

I can't stand it when he gets like that. It's this self pity thing that I'm not sure what he's trying to accomplish when he does it. I told him it makes me feel horrible and he needs to stop. I do not need to feel guilty for his fucked up thought process. He's like a child whining to get his way. For some reason it's easier to lay it on me instead of facing whatever is really bothering him.

Yes, R is on Pr0zac, though he has never seen anyone other than our GP. The main reason our GP will prescribe it is due to the high stress our business puts on us. (no, I'm not on anything)

I had a strange dream last night. I still can't figure out where I was, but I was blogging about my last pregnancy and how I ended up with weekly visits to a psychiatrist. Something I may actually write about soon. The one thing that really stuck in my head is how I really feel I didn't belong there. How I had been socially pushed into believing I needed that care in order to be "alright". I still think this, and often wonder if things are happening due to me, who I am, how I live and interact with people. Like would R be in the same position if I weren't here, or is he there because I am here?

It's raining...

The rain is too fitting for todays "space" I'm in.

R stayed up very late last night, roughly 3:40am. I tried going to bed at a reasonable hour, only to wake up when he walked through the room, (every time), and I also woke up three times to tend to Tide. (who was very unsettled last night) So, I'm tired, with a steady cool rain that should last all day.

R is depressed. Somehow I feel guilty for it. Why? Here is where I sit and contemplate just how much I am comfortable writing here, I want to spew, and should... what if R finds this and reads it? I so much do not want to hurt his feelings... Let me go back in time a little.

R and I drink beer. Occasionally a lot more than we should. In the last year I have cut back, and so has R, just not as much as I did. (just as a note, one of us would always be coherent enough to care for Tide, so in no way did I feel we ever jeopardized him) I understand social drinking and drinking in general is not the end of the world. A lot of people do, some more than others. On more then one occasion, either R or I would regret having more then we should on a given night. Leading to the following day of beating yourself up and swearing you won't go over board again.

I am no better or worse than R in this. I have my demons, I have done exactly what he has... just not as frequent. (at least not now or recently) Now being that I'm pregnant and stopped all my horrible habits when I found out. I did not want R to stop drinking on my behalf while I am pregnant, being around someone that is drinking does not bother me at all. Though people we know seem very bothered by it, throwing their own guilt out on the table, saying they feel bad drinking around me. I assure them not to, that I'm fine, don't miss it AT ALL. I can say I really don't enjoy being in a crowd of drunk people right now, I just find it repulsive. Not the act of drinking, but how they start to act once they have a few under their belts. So, I go to bed early and wake up to the next day feeling great. (while others sluggishly arrive to their form of morning)

So, that said, R is depressed. I feel guilty for it. I don't think I can really get a grip on why I feel the way I do. I know R feels bad about last night... coupled with the other few times this has happened this month has thrown him into a hole. He is hard on himself on a regular day, so on a day like today, he's brutal. I hate seeing him like this. He talks about being dead, though I know he would in no way ever kill himself. I can't bear hearing him like this. He has a lot of self hate, drinking or not. As I described in a previous post, he is very hard on himself. Never quite living up to what ever he has in his mind as a standard. I'm not clear on exactly what he expects.

I suspect my guilt is over my lack of control on the situation. Like I should be doing something and don't. He apologizes and I tell him it's okay, I understand. Should I be telling him I don't understand? I want to be supportive and find my happy, laughing R. Though I don't necessarily think the way I'm responding is helping at all... I feel like I'm hurting him but trying to smooth it over like it's no big deal. Yet am trying to tread softly since he takes things so hard.

Since R slept in this morning, I still haven't been able to bring Tide into Daycare. R woke up, beat himself up mentally, eventually got up and took a bubble bath with Tide. (something they both immensely enjoy) After the bath, Tide was rubbing his eyes, R was still tired, so the two of them are now napping. I feel like I haven't even been able to start my day yet it's almost 12:30 pm.

Granny and Poppa

I picked up Tide from Daycare last night, went to the closest grocery store to pick up some flowers, and made my way to Granny and Poppa's. This is the first time I have been to their house since September 1st, when I picked Tide up and fled across the state, away from the Hurricane. I remember Granny not having any idea what to do. Do they stay in their block home? Do they try to drive south, north, west? It was hard, since she's the kind of woman everyone goes to for sound advice. When Granny didn't know what to do, you kinda just felt lost...

As I had indicated in an earlier post, that first Hurricane ripped off a large part of their roof, exposing the interior to a lot of water damage. They replaced the roof and rebuilt the porches along the back of their house. They ended up gutting the entire house, walls, ceilings and all floors. They even had to gut their bathrooms, as water had gotten behind the walls, leaving damage behind tile in the showers, etc. Their kitchen appliances-replaced. Their living room, family room, dining room furniture-all replaced. The house looks unbelievable now. It looks new, which I guess it is.

Tide froze. He was very excited to see them, but in no way was he comfortable with his former hangout being completely different. It took him roughly a half an hour before he'd let go of my leg and venture into the family room to talk to Poppa. By the time we left, he was moving around freely, but still had a confused look on his face.

I had called Granny prior to just dropping by, she was excited that we were going to visit. She had just gotten her leg brace off from her last surgery, and mentioned she was ready to take Tide back if we wanted. So, I had the not so pleasant task of explaining how I felt the place Tide was at is better for his age. That he's learning more, blah blah... I ended my little speech with, but hey I'm pregnant again, so you can watch this one when he/she's ready. (ready meaning, when I am ready to have the baby pryed from my dead cold... No, I mean once Business + Baby becomes too much for me to swing)

All in all it really was a great visit. They are just such wonderful people, I miss my morning talks with Granny.

Painting the picture

Okay, so I'm painting here if you don't mind. I have to paint the picture before I can live it. So, here's another installment...

Our extended Family
R's father passed away December 25th 2000. R's Mothers name is K. She is a very kind woman, who I'm lucky enough to get along with. She adores Tide and washes him with love every time she sees him. (even though he is technically her 8th grandchild) I'm not always on the same wave length, but that's okay, we work through our differences. K is dating Mr. Mike, who is, much to our surprise, crazy about Tide. All of R's Grandparents have passed away. R has one bio-sister Dawn. R has two half sisters, Deb and Diana. The two half sisters have just recently (last 7-8 years) reappeared in his life.

My father lives in Maine, his name is Dad. (original, eh?) He has not been here to see Tide since his birth. He is emotionally inept. My Mother lives 9.24 miles from my door. (according to MapQu3st), we'll call her Mother. She has only seen Tide I'm guessing ten times (if she's lucky) since his birth. She is emotionally inept. I have one Brother, we'll call Germ. (very appropriate if you knew him) He lives 3 hours from us in Florida. I could care less. My Mother's Mother is still alive (Grandma) and lives 7 miles from here with her son (my Uncle E). Uncle E has only left home for a short stay with a girlfriend in the late 70's. The only other main family player is my Aunt Pat. She is one of my true best friends. (My Dad's sister and nothing like him) She has flown across the country four times to see Tide since he was born. She is his Grandma Pat. We talk (e-mail) on a daily basis.

Tide is lucky enough to have Grandpa Norman, who is crazy about Tide, but no way actually related to our family. Norman is just unbelievable. He is now 80, and is still helping us and his family rebuild from the Hurricanes. Norman helped reinstall our Dock at the end of December! He is how you wish everyone would look at your child. Pure admiration, his eyes sparkle and dance whenever he sees Tide. He's been a long time friend of ours, but has just warmed our hearts with his love for our Boy. Tide calls him Grandpa.

So I guess, even though my Mother and Dad are really not involved with Tide, He is truly lucky to have the many people who adore him. R and I feel it's very important to surround Tide with love and affection. These handful of people K, Mr. Mike, Grandma Pat and Grandpa Norman, just make us so happy because they do just that every time they see Tide.

Today's plan

Since this is my "Day off at Work", I initially dreamed of a sit-back-relaxing-no-customer-no-hassle-day. This is not the case, not to anyone's immediate surprise. It's been busy. Good in the sense that we NEED the work, Bad in the sense that selfish me wanted a relaxing day.

I had to get up early to get Tide ready for Daycare. He was throwing a fit because Daddy went fishing without him. We've been taking him offshore since he was 4 months old. He seems to love it out there. I'm not sure if he enjoys the fishing as much as how relaxed Mommy and Daddy are when they are 30 miles away from land, people, reality.

My good news this morning at Daycare was that they found an almost full pack of diapers I had brought for Tide and they had misplaced. (Since his name is written on every single diaper, it would be hard to pass them off as just anybodies.) Which made me feel better, since I LOST a new pack of diapers last week when I was leaving Wa11-Mart. Hard to do, eh? Try being pregnant, (not physically debilitating yet, but seriously hormonally debilitating), pushing a full cart (including the 50lb bag of dog food), into the pouring rain. Only to notice about half way through your throwing all your valuable groceries into your vehicle that the diapers are missing! I had laid them on the bottom of the cart perched on the dog food. Apparently they had slipped off their home and became parking lot bait. I tossed the rest into the vehicle and heading back through the parking lot. I scoured my path, nothing, I questioned the clerk who checked me out, nothing. I even waiting in the customer service line to ask the child behind the counter, (who just called the customer in front of me "stupid"- professionalism at it's best), if anyone had turned in a package of diapers. Nothing. I stomped back to the vehicle, looking under cars and trucks along the way. I unlock the door and proceeded to slam it as hard as I could without actually breaking the glass... then I cried. I wailed. I was a slobbering fool. Over a $15 package of diapers. I was a wreck. Finally after a few minutes, I managed to collect myself enough to drive. So, I drove, beating myself up all the way home. I guess it really wasn't the end of the world, I had just spent a long shopping session scrutinizing every purchase to make our money stretch, only to virtually throw away $15.

R, who normally can not deal with my crying at all, was surprisingly okay with my news. (he can always tell when I cry since my eyes turn a fluorescent green) He shrugged it off and put a positive spin on it thinking that maybe it went to a family much more in need than us. Okay, that'll work.

So, back to my plan... I called R's sister DL to come in and watch the shop for the last 15 minutes today so I could make it to pick up Tide before 6pm. At 6:01, you owe an additional $5, at 6:05 start tacking on a dollar a minute that you're late. SO, that said, I'll get Tide and bring him over to visit Granny. We haven't had time to stop by since she had her last surgery. Since R is not going to be home from fishing, I thought it would be a perfect time to stop and say "Hi".

A day off at Work

R went fishing offshore today. He took the guy that works for us, our brother in law (bil) and bil's father. So, a day I can relax. I do have several work things that need attention, but the bulk of my day is free. Free if I let my guilt over the messy house and needed chores subside. We'll see. I usually end up doing an overhaul to our house while R is gone. I just don't have much energy lately.

So, R has no idea I have this blog. He noticed I was reading a friends blog the other day and he just couldn't comprehend why anyone would do such a thing. So, I've been reluctant to mention this. Besides he'll think it's just a place I can complain about him. Hmmm, there's an idea! I'd hate to break his heart when he realizes this isn't all a tribute positive or negative to the great R. But what can I do.

About R
R is 39 and will be 40 in September. R was born and raised in Florida. R is a hard working person. He can not stand to be idle. Sitting doing nothing for even a small amount of time drives him crazy. He goes through spells of waking up in the middle of the night with his mind tooling. He's currently in that pattern. He doesn't feel good about himself unless he accomplishes something substantial everyday. Luckily he has backed down a little since we had Tide. He is a dedicated Dad. He has a great sense of humor. He jokes a lot. He'll shut down the joking completely if I try to get him to be serious at all, then he's not himself, so I beg him to just be him. It's a catch 22 if you will, I'd like him to be more serious, but I don't want him to be who he isn't.

R is very hard on himself. If it's not him constantly saying I don't find him attractive or that he's too ugly, it's him knocking himself down in another way. He doesn't do enough, etc. All of which I am constantly telling him my point of view and he blows it off like I'm bullshitting him.

R is a fabulous Father. He spends a great amount of one on one time with Tide. He would do anything for Tide. He was up with Tide until 1:30 Friday night playing. They played cars, football, baseball, played inside various boats in our yard, walked all over, splashed in puddles... And that's just what he mentioned to me. It made his weekend. Nothing is better to R then quality time with his boy. Just thinking that makes me smile.

About Tide
Tide was born August 12, 2002. He is a big boy, always measuring at the top or over the average growth charts. He was an adorable baby. (but aren't they all) Now he is a very cute toddler. He has spent his share of time in the hospital and ER's. He has asthma. He had his first surgical procedure at 20 months. A scrotal infection that had to be lanced to clean out the infection. We spent 6 days in the hospital during that episode. The infection was initially caused by a staph infection that he most likely caught during his hospital stay a few weeks prior. I always find that oh-so-nice.

Tide spent his first eight months in my office. (I'll explain our work/home situation soon) I started having difficulties keeping up with work and him during our busy season. I sent R's Mother out to research some local daycare's. Since we trust her opinions concerning child care, we went with her top pick. Tide started Daycare. Every week he was sent home sick. He just could not shake the "Daycare Crud". I pulled him out two weeks before our yearly vacation, (so I would have a healthy boy during our break), and never brought him back. We struggled through the next 2 ½ months until we found Granny.

Granny, (who's name is Francis), is a 75 year old woman who has been watching kids in her home for 45 years. Her and her husband Harry, (known as Poppa), were watching five other kids ranging from 6 months old to 4 years old. Her house is littered with glass knick knacks and immaculate. My first thought was that they must just lock all the kids in the closet in order to keep the house like that. I was wrong, of course. Tide loved going to Granny and Poppas. They filled a grandparent void that Tide has. (I'll explain later) Everything was very smooth until the Hurricanes. The first major one to hit here tore Granny and Poppas roof off and severely damaged the interior. They were luck enough to have a daughter that had the room to take them in and allowed them to continue watching the children in her home. Well, Tide was the only one who stayed with Granny. The other kids and parents found other places to go.

The great thing about Tide's time with Granny and Poppa was how he didn't get sick as much as he did in the public daycare. If he was sick, Granny would still watch him, give him his breathing treatments, medication, etc. The one element that was now missing was the other kids. Tide missed playing with kids his age. Granny ended up having knee replacement surgery, which she did remarkably well recovering from. Roughly two months later, her knee cap split in half and she was back in surgery. This happened in mid January. They told her at least 6 weeks with her leg immobile and then she'd have to go through rehab all over again.

I had to do something. If anyone ever thought watching an 8 month old and running a business was tough, try a two years old! So, I had to do something. R and I had taken Tide back to the first Daycare during the time Granny had her first surgery. It lasted two days, when I abruptly picked Tide up with his belongings and told the director we were leaving. She hemmed and hawed and I explained that I didn't need my kid in an unsanitary facility that seemed chaotic and unsupervised.

On a whim, I checked out a relatively new Daycare. It was part of a chain, several in our county. I was shocked. I walked in and could not believe the order and cleanliness. The teachers I met were all cheerful and upbeat. The kids were playing and noisy but in no way chaotic. I was sold. We brought Tide in the next day. He's been there two months now and loves it. They teach him the simple things with constructive play. They alternate their rooms all day, going from math to social studies to art to science... They have two large playgrounds outside plus a big inside one. I still haven't found any negative thing about this place. Tide has been sick, but nothing bad. Besides it's been winter.

All in all Tide is a very bright, cheery, inquisitive toddler. He melts down from time to time, but who doesn't. He recently learned how to steer his powered jeep. (small 6v powered jeep that he can sit in and drive around the yard) His language skills are flowing out of him faster than I ever imagined. He shares. He offers help when he sees us doing something. He likes to give hugs and kisses.

About A
A is me. I am 32, will be 33 next month. I am originally from Maine and am now living in Florida. I've been here 10 years, though it feels like more. I live three miles from the ocean on the Indian River. I love the water. R and I run a marine business. We do repair, a few sales and have a storage yard. My office door is attached to our kitchen. We live and work in the same physical location. It is good and bad.

I love what I do, though I hate people. Not all people, but a large portion of them. So, all the parts research and book work are great. The customer relations part... not my cup of tea. R is Mr. Nice-guy. This is a business he had started a few years prior to my coming to Florida. Once I was fully involved in the Business, I realized R had thousands owed to him. He would let people take their boats and trust that they'd pay when they got the money. A lot of these customers were commercial fisherman. Some of them paid, most had sob stories that would string R along. So I came in and took over the financial end. I became noted as the bitch. I made no exceptions. "No Payment=No Boat" I placed this sign in plain view in several locations. Attached to this was a reminder note indicating that we do take credit cards. Most of the people who owed us money would religiously say they didn't believe in credit cards. Which to me means they have no credit and no money. I know this sounds harsh, but R was actually putting payroll on his credit card because he couldn't afford to pay our employees. Which in turn means we had no money to eat. Something had to change. Thus, I'm the BITCH.

I love photography. I keep promising myself I'll take more pictures, which I haven't done, but will. I have changed over to digital. Which is a love hate relationship for me. I do have a very nice camera, but there's something about a manual 35mm that has always been my gig. I used to take almost all of my pictures in blk/wht. I still play with that mode on my camera, but it just doesn't feel the same. I miss dark room time. Though I have roughly 7500 photos currently stored in my Mac, I just haven't given myself the time or incentive to do anything with them.

I guess that's about it for now. Just a brief on who we are.

Scared

I am scared of having another child. I was unsure about my ability to handle Tide when I was pregnant with him and when he was a baby. Now I can't get a grip on what things will be like with another infant or how I'll be able to handle it.

A part of me wishes I could erase any knowledge I may have gained from raising Tide for the last 2 ½ years. To start fresh, to have the same fears, to be that concerned. I feel like I'll be too laid back. That I'll think I know what's right without really paying attention. With Tide everyday was new, every cry, sniffle, tear was new and I paid scrutinizing attention to it all. I read, I surfed the net, I called the Nurses and Doctors.

A large part of me knows I'll probably do fine, and it really is just the next step in my life. As things progressed with Tide, I'm sure they'll do the same with this next one. I was amazed how natural and automatic the basic care of Tide came to me. How only now have a hit one of the major milestones with no understanding of how to proceed.

We're trying to potty train. I have absolutely no idea what to do or how to do it. Yesterday we successfully had our first pee in the potty. Yeah team! We had one carpet incident, one linoleum incident, and three other "oops" outside. I was hoping like all the other big ones that this would kinda just happen naturally. At this rate if I wait for the natural route I think he'll be in his teens.

I am determined not to have two in diapers. As it is Tide weighs 40 pounds and is getting a bit much to keep slinging up on our changing table. Not to mention I would love at least a few months without the fucking diaper pail. I am sick of bleaching, smelling, bleaching, smelling...

I also have no idea how Tide will react to a sibling. He is Mommas boy. R thinks I coddle Tide too much, that I wait on him hand and foot. He may be right. I don't know how much is too much. Tide is a good boy. He's polite, happy, inquisitive and caring. I just want him to know I'm here for him.

A carpet of newspaper

Luckily not due to a dog, cat, child, husband, or other unknown critters NEEDING said paper strewn all over the livingroom floor. Instead it's due to this unknown need and desire of Tide's. He is compelled to take every page of the Sunday paper and spread it painstakingly out flat, one piece at a time until every single page is covering every inch of the floor. His next task is to lay on it and roll, slide and tumble.

Recently while fueling our vehicle, I was in the drivers seat, looking back at Tide in his car seat. He was munching on some goldfish. He exclaims, "Ouch, that URT!" I ask "What happened Tide, did you bite your finger?", "Yes" he replied. I gave his normal consoleing while laughing under my breath at his shock that such a thing could happen. A few minutes later I asked If I could have a couple of goldfish. He held some in his hand, while I held my hand under his. Before he would release his goldfish, he cautioned "Be careful Mommy!" What a nice boy.

Why "Anyway"

I think I chose this name for my Blog because "I HATE PEOPLE" would be entirely too negative. Besides, "Anyway" reminds me of my best friend. It reminds me of dreaming, of searching and longing for something that I don't know and haven't seen.

I guess that's pretty much it. I'm not a deep thinker. At least not anymore. I have a Toddler. The BIG "T". His name is Tide. Yes, T (as in Tomato), I (as in Iguana), D (as in Dog) and E (as in Egg). People have problems with his name. They can not grasp the concept that his name is NOT "Ty" or the first white "Tyrone" or some other thing that they can conjure up to sound vaguely like his name. Really it is not a hard name. It's even spelled just like it sounds. In fact we have two great examples of Tide in our society. One being the reason R and I named him Tide... As I say when I tell people his name. "Tide, like the ocean." Yeah yeah, there's Low Tide and High Tide... (giggle giggle from the people who can't say that without picturing him coming home at 16 "high") The other prominant Tide in good (?) ole' United States is Tide the laundry detergent. Which sadly (to me) people have thought we named him after our laundry soap... Dumbasses.

I also have two dogs. A rotweiller named Ruger, who turned 11 in December. He is relatively new to us, we took him from our neighbor after a Hurricane ripped through here. They had left him on an 8ft chain and never looked back. So when they returned and saw their dog here, we ignored them. They asked for him back, we told them no, he was fine here. End of story. Our other Dog is a Boxer/Shepard mix named RPM. She is a frisbee dog and a play machine. She does not stop playing...ever. We've had her since she was 8 months old. She's now 7. I think.

We have had, several large Iguanas, a 6ft Boa, and babysat a bird for two years. I WILL NOT have another Bird.

That is my household right now. We're expecting our second child (if all goes well) October 9th. I have a feeling it's a Boy. We'll see.

Why do you write...

This is a question I ask myself. I really don't. However, I want to. I want a better record of my life then a bunch of disjointed e-mails that never quite cover everything. I want something I can look back through and realize things have been better, will be better, or I'm way better off. I want to be able to remember the little details of my sons life and in October my next child's life. I want to remember all the reasons I love my husband and all the reasons he drives me crazy. I want to remember. Something I'm not very good at. My memory has had much better days. Like maybe when I was five and my brain was an empty sponge...

It'll take me a while to set this up where I feel comfortable and can open the can of worms. You know the one that you do open in your diary... bar none. Yeah right like I can be THAT honest with myself. We'll see.

A thought for today

How many times do you need to erase your first entry before you actually post it?
I thought so.