What fun.

I just made another appointment with my OB for next week. I think I may have a (an? doesn't look right) urinary tract infection. Not sure, but I feel like it's probably best to hit it in the head if I do have one. If not then something else may be going on. We'll find out. It's an afternoon appointment and she double booked it, so I know it'll be a long afternoon. I always request morning appointments, since I'm all cheery and shit. (which is not the case since during this pregnancy I am constantly exhausted so am not even with it until late morning.) Early appointments rock because they happen roughly when you are scheduled.

We'll see.

I haven't done anything today. I feel like a bump on a log. Absolutely no energy or desire to do any work or anything period. Nice. Nothing like sitting in front of the computer all day and achieving nothing. Where'd my motivation go?

I should be billing out my storage customers, or washing my vehicle, or finishing the bathroom. Instead I am sitting here doing nothing, nothing, nothing. When R is gone I usually end up doing a weeks worth of chores in his absence. Sigh.

I had to call in Deb, my "in house" SIL, to come in and watch the business for the last fifteen minutes so I can get Tide from Daycare without spending more than we already do. So I just hope she doesn't come over to chat before I need to leave. I just don't have the stomach for her.

Boy this all sounds pretty fucking negative... not my intention, really I'm not in a bad mood.

Ramblings in my head

It's been too long, and I have so much I want to spew... If I even come close to hitting the topics I want to I'll have to give myself a pat, my brain is fried.

If you hadn't guessed, R is gone today. He's out fishing offshore, not the best seas or weather, but having him around here moping around and fucking up work, is NOT good. So off he goes to fish and come back with a smile and better attitude.

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I had another OB appointment this past Friday. All is seemingly healthy. Meaning my bp was good and my OB wasn't concerned with any of my questions/issues. Apparently I measured within the proper realm and since I hadn't grow an extra arm they sent me away after a quick 5 minute ordeal. Of course, just because they didn't have any issues didn't mean it was smooth. The first thing they do is have you hop on the scale. I gingerly stepped aboard, and much to my shock had gained 7 pounds since my last appointment. So, I peed in their cup, went into the exam room and cried. Lame, I know. I am fully aware pregnant women gain weight, I'm not that vain. I-just-wasn't-ready. I had been sick, hadn't eaten much and honestly need to save my weight gain for later on in the pregnancy. Being obese to start gives you very little weight gain room to fall within the "healthy" pregnancy category. So, it just hit me wrong. I cried, and was over it.

Over it until I got to my vehicle to leave, answered the cell, to have R on the other end wanting to know where the quarterly paperwork was for our accountant. (yes, it was done, no it was not organized for R to find or gather together.) So, I tried to explain where the important stuff was and all R was able to find in my filing cabinet was an old envelope with our accountants name on it. (It must be hard to look at all those alphabetized file folders, see the one with our accountants name on it and pull the papers out of it.) Granted, it IS MY job, not his, so whatever. He sent the accountant home empty handed while I tried to drive back home while fighting off the new batch of tears. YES PREGNANT WOMEN ARE EMOTIONAL.

I screech into the parking lot and get into the shop to save R from the phone. (He hates to answer the phone while I'm gone) I tell him all is healthy with the baby, and we have our ultrasound scheduled for 5/12. He sees the remnants of my cry session. (my eyes turn a very fluorescent green color and take a while to calm down after I cry) He gets upset. He rants about it all day about how even when all is healthy his wife still bawls her brains out. How unhappy I must be since I fucking cry all the time. Crying is always an issue. His mother did not cry. So, he doesn't think it's normal at all unless there is a death or something equally upsetting to cry about. Happy tears don't cut it, I cried the night he proposed to me, he still jabs me about that. In his defense, Friday was a really unpleasant day all the way around. Nothing went well in the shop and it was a rough day customer wise. Plus, the seas pumped up making our planned Saturday offshore fishing trip go down the tubes, frustrating R all the more.

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I had a call from Mother last Monday. She wanted to make a time to come in to talk to me. She said she had some things we needed to discuss. Part of it has to do with how she passed out (?) at the grocery store recently. I don't know if I have alluded to how different Mother is now compared to when I was growing up and through my college years. She has turned into a hypochondriac. She seriously always has some malady. Sadly, you can tell something is really wrong with her by just looking at her swollen gray/yellow skin. She does not go to doctors, she does not have health coverage, she does not work. Which when added together would qualify her to get assistance if she did enter a doctors office to find out why she feels the way she does. But, I can not lead her life, I make suggestions to have them shot down with the you're-being-ridiculous-glare. So, while I spent several days last week contemplating what kind of serious health issue Mother may actually have, R came up with a very possible reason for her need to talk to me.

She needs money. I have had a hard time with money issues and Mother for years now. I just find it difficult to feel sorry for someone who does not try to make their own way, then they complain about it. Mother would call me crying the blues about how she had no money, and I would suggest the unsuggestable... get a job. At which time I would rattle off several businesses I had seen help wanted signs up, etc. This was always followed by some lame excuse. My favorite is when she says she's too old. (She will be 56 next month) Florida is full of people well into retirement working away. They don't have "bag-boys" here, they are a group of people into their 70's that put your groceries into the carts. Besides I have a hard time feeling sorry for her when I'm working an easy 50 hours a week to make enough to keep this place running and keep us a half a step ahead of debt. But in the end, I do feel sorry for her.

So, there's where this whole thing becomes too complicated. She is my Mother. Regardless of how I feel about her life choices, she is still my Mother. So, she may need money or she may just want to cry wolf again about an ailment... or maybe she really is sick. Any way you look at it, the conversation will not be easy.

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On a completely different note, I witnessed someone race through an obvious red light the other day. Luckily no one was pulling into the lane from the other direction. It turned red as we turned a corner prior to the intersection. I couldn't believe the person kept driving right through it. Not that I haven't "squeaked" through on a yellow-turned-red as I am positioned in the middle of the intersection, but I don't blatantly fly through red lights. It actually made me flash back to Hurricane season last year. Did you know that if the power is out or the traffic lights are blown to smitherleens, all intersections become four, six, eight, twenty way stops? My best example of this was driving back after the first Hurricane. I was on the west coast, and drove across the state to get home. The closer I came to the east coast, the more buildings, trees and general demolition was visible. As I approached a larger town near the major east coast interstate, I found myself stopped at an intersection facing 15 other drivers wondering who should go first. No police officers to help guide this cluster fuck, just everyone looking wide eyed at each other. After a few brave souls made their way from one side to the other, I decided I had to try. I was driving a dually truck with a 24ft travel trailer behind me. I gazed at the other awed expressions as I slowly picked up speed, and made it to the other side. My heart pounding, never knowing if someone would loose their cool and slam into my truck or not. I made it and became rather skilled at negotiating my way through these obstacles as they became more and more frequent on my journey home.

Once home, surviving through weeks of no phone and no power became taxing at best. All the while, having to remember to stop at all intersections and do the grueling wait as everyone tries to get their turn. (I actually love four way stops, they still have a few locally that I travel through. It is amazing how polite people can be.) Though when thrown into a crisis situation, people don't tend to have the amount of patience required to safely navigate around town. The other thing that most people don't think about is railroad tracks. No power, no flashing lights or arms blocking the road. So, stop and look. I found it again just amazing how many people could not grasp this concept. To me it was worth my life to stop and look. Apparently other people just never thought of it, as I'd see them fly through it just like a normal business day.

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We went to an art festival Saturday. There were hundreds of artists and live music all day. We stayed until just shy of 10:30pm. It was fun to people watch and listen to the music. Tide loves to shake his booty. R brought him out right in front of the stage to dance away. There was a little girl out there, and the two of them had so much fun dancing. I unfortunately did not have my camera with me, they would have made some adorable pictures. She had her hair up in pony tails. Too cute. I stood propped against a tree watching them, R was out on the floor dancing making sure Tide didn't run for it. I enjoyed watching them all. Including the little girls mother who was a tall graceful black woman with this long flowing dress on. Her dancing style was so fluid, gorgeous to watch. Once the song was over, R and Tide came back over near me, we ended up going back to look at more art booths or something. (brain isn't firing) Needless to say we walked away from the music for a while. This was when R started in on my not dancing.

He couldn't believe I wasn't the one out there with Tide. (who me, the pregnant woman who had just gone through a couple of hours of sitting in the rain watching bands? who before that was walking carrying Tide and making her feet very sore?) So, I told him I would dance later, that I enjoyed watching them all dance. R was a little buzzed at this point, so would not let it go. He mentioned it all of a dozen times, each time elaborating on how he has lost his "hippy-chic". (a nickname he used to call me when we first started seeing each other, not peace-love-hairgrease hippy, but just different in a good way, to him.) He went on about how I just stood there like a lump with this black sweater on looking like an old lady. On and on he went. I tried to ignore him and when he'd start in about it again, I'd say not this again. Toward the end, I just started getting mad. Come on, give me a fucking break. It was the first dance, just because I wasn't out there didn't mean that I wasn't having fun or that I wouldn't dance later. Whatever, it put a damper on things. I told him several times that he needed to drop it. Which fell on deaf ears. So, we tallied out our evening with this building wall.

Of course, I don't think he remembered much of it the next day. Which is fine by me. So, I told him he was being mean. (which he always wants to know the next day) Which led to a whole batch of self pity and him saying I need and deserve someone better... Always makes me feel like an ass. Sweet, eh?

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Tide has been in another whine phase. He is such a little brat, then turns around and does something utterly adorable. He does listen to R better than me. I try to be stern and he ignores me. Yet if R is stern he actually will start doing what he is supposed to be doing. I guess I'm the push over or something, though I'm trying to not be. I just end up coping out so I can get things done. Most likely a big mistake I'll regret. In general he really is very well behaved. Discipline is hard, he thinks time out is a joke, spanking does not work, we've resorted to putting him in his room away from us, or taking loved toys from him. Not exactly text book.

I need to figure out a way to get him to stop needing me to carry him everywhere. He is 40 pounds, and being pregnant makes it feel like 80. He starts to melt down if I tell him to walk then his legs turn into spaghetti. So, I end up carrying spaghetti leg child out from the middle of the parking lot or whatever bad place he decides to melt.

We are also making no progress with potty training. He knowingly pees or poops in his diaper and tells us about it once he's done. Ugh!

But hey, he can count to ten and count ten items. Who cares if he ends up graduating high school in a diaper.

Lost time and sleep

It has been a hectic week for us, our business is starting to pick up, (that time of year), and Tide and I are fighting a chest cold. I slept maybe 2 hours last night, in my chair, since laying down resulted in severe coughing episodes. I called my OB yesterday to find out what I may be allowed to take, so went to the store last night and bought some Tylenol cold. Which is supposed to help with coughing, pain, and congestion. It didn't help at all. Tide ended up waking up around 2am, wanting something to drink. R tried to talk him into letting Daddy fill his cup, but he wanted Mommy. He came into the living room where I was. I promised him Daddy could get him something to drink, so he let R do it, then crawled up onto my lap and snuggled in. I could hear him wheezing with every breath, but I was too beat to get up and get a breathing treatment ready. We did lay there for a while, until I was able to talk him into going back to his bed. As much as I love having him snuggle, I prefer to have all of us sleeping.

Tide acted a little better this morning, so I gave him his treatment and brought him to Daycare. Sadly, I feel like I should have kept him home, but I just have no energy to deal with the business and Tide.

I do want to post this fun picture of Tide from last weekend. He is my beach boy!

Catching up.

We just spent the weekend with R's family. His Mother has a timeshare (traded) in Daytona Beach this week, so the close family all gathered there this weekend. All the kids had a chance to frolic in the pool and beach. It was really a great time. It is always a trip to watch the three kids together, the group dynamics just cracks me up! Katie (5 ¼) is the mother hen, she'll corral the boys, guiding them into whatever task she has planned. Mark (3 ½) was defiant this weekend, kicking and punching Tide, running from the family on the beach, and not wanting to share... at all. Tide (2 ¾) observed and followed. He ended up sleeping with Grandma and her man, which produced a sleeping child until roughly 8:30 am! I kept making sure he was breathing... after all we are usually lucky with our 6:30 wake up.

So, while we were gallivanting north for the weekend, we bombed the house with a flea bomb, six of them to be precise. Last night I found one (just one) on Tide, but we really haven't seen any since. I hope this does it, we've already treated everything, and our attempts last weekend ended with the same infestation only days later. We've already nixed the dogs from entering the main living area of the house. (meaning they still meander into my parts room and office) So, please work.

R is picking up Tide tonight and heading out to shop for my B-Day. I told him it wasn't necessary, but he says it is. I don't have a clue what I want or need, which will make whatever he decides interesting to say the least. He said he wanted to take Tide, since he can help pick out the gifts. Should be fun, right?

I went to JCPenny Saturday morning to take advantage of a huge sale they were having and pick up a few maternity things... they down-sized their Maternity section in the store to two, YES TWO, racks. One had sweaters, the other skimpy stringy tank tops. (which do not flatter my wide load) Needless to say, I'll have to shop online for my maternity clothes. Something that I am scared of since I do not trust even one size chart ever made. Not one. Oh, the joy of being BIG, with the task of getting BIGGER. (and trying to find something to cover the bigger so the general public doesn't start to protest or burn me at the stake)

We finally had one of our big customers pay his tab (the only one I bill monthly), so I can pay our loan this month! Yeh! Now to find out if our accountant deferred our taxes or am I supposed to shit out some more money before the end of the week... I will call him in the morning.

I'm definitely feeling more pregnant every day. I feel movements, very slight, but consistent. My belly roll is now hard instead of my usual squishy belly roll. I need to go to the bathroom all the time and my heart burn has returned. Yummy.

Now to make it through my B-day without wanting to mutilate anyone, I'll be golden.

moving fast and I can't stop...

It seems like every day something new is happening with Tide. Something new and big. Big in my eyes.

Today R, Bubba-the guy who works for us, and Tide are offshore fishing. This is the first time R has taken Tide out in the boat without me. I'm sure it makes no difference to Tide, but I know the difference. I trust R to the fullest extent. He would never do anything to jeopardize Tide. I know that with all my heart, yet I'm still feeling a bit lost. Tide is not just 2, he's 2 ¾... so we're talking a big boy, right?

I know mothers (and probably fathers) out there that think we're horrible for taking Tide offshore to begin with. Especially since we've been doing this since he was 4 months old. I remember that first year after having Tide when we went on vacation. (We go to the Keys every year with R's family and do a lot of fishing.) Tide was 10 months old, and had 6 solid months of boating offshore under his belt. A few of the other families that are there every year were horrified when they saw us heading offshore with our baby. He couldn't walk, how did we expect him to handle being on a boat all day!? Tide has always been very at peace when offshore with us. Often sleeping for hours on his large pillow in the shade. He sits near me and watches everything around him... it's poetry to watch him absorb the open ocean. As he's gotten older his excitement and understanding has grown. He now "helps" R rig the bait, he reels in one of the poles, and has actually reeled in a small king mackerel. If he sees a bird, turtle, manta-ray, shark, weeds, bait fish, clouds, other boats, a cup floating, or even a bug, he excitedly tells us immediately, pointing and explaining. It's a joy to be able to expose him to this life.

With that said, I'm sitting here feeling very alone as R and Tide are likely 30 miles offshore as I type, trolling baits around waiting or catching fish. I asked Tide to catch a fish for me when we were getting him dressed this morning. Tide asked, "You staying here?", "Yes, Mommy has to work, so catch a fish for me okay?" "Yessss." Tide answered with an amazing glow in his eyes and smile broadly perched on his face.

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I am officially, (according to some sources, but more importantly according to ME), starting my second trimester. I am 13w 1d. Yippeee, I can stop worrying now, right, I mean chances of m/c from here are slim, right? Right? I truly am lucky with my health, though overweight, I am healthy. My OB classified me as low risk at my last appointment, which wasn't the case with Tide. (I was monitored due to my previous m/c's and the years it took for a viable pregnancy. This time Bam... I'm pregnant.) So, being low risk is awesome, yet scary for me. I felt so at ease with the extra appointments, reassurances and ultrasounds. This time it's just you and me baby! Which I know is a good thing, now I just need to believe it.

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What the fuck kind of sign do we have posted to our foreheads that prompts people to walk all over us!? I had a customer, (friend of a family friend once removed), come in to pick up his boat. He, HE told me that he'd be in on Thursday after he tested his boat to pay. What, Why? We only charged him an eighth of the time we had in it, which is not much by anyone's standards, yet he is going to TAKE the boat and pay us later?! The sad part being I let it happen. Fuck Fuck Fuck! These people who expect us to do these things for nothing are out of their minds! Do you go to the grocery store and tell them you'll pay them in a couple of days? I could have said , hey why not pay now, which I did hint to as I explained how little we actually charged him, but then I'd have his sob story on how we had his boat since late last Thursday, and he hasn't been able to work (he's a commercial crabber), so blah blah... After all, we're working here and making a living, how do we expect him to pay when he hasn't been able to?

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We have a toxic house and yard. We spent our weekend shampooing all our carpets (3), and all our furniture. I spent yesterday washing all our other floors and spraying the flea treatment. R spent yesterday mowing, spreading granules, spraying round-up and spraying other toxic combinations to rid our yard of fleas, ants and other vermin. R also gave both dogs a flea bath and they have been quarantined. So, after three solid days of a flea attack, I sat down last night to have one jump on my arm. I assume he was at the brink of death and was merely looking for a comfortable passage, which I promptly supplied.

"I'm a BOY! Not a BABY!"

Yes, he's a boy, not a baby. Tide spent his first night in his own room, in a big boy bed.



This is sad and exciting. He really is very excited about his bed and his room! Of course, I really am very sad that my boy is leaving the need of being in the crib. (the need of R and I to take him in and out of the crib) He's confused and asks about his crib, but then injects that he has a big boy bed.

Yes, Tide you do. You've grown up a lot and are now moving onto the next level of boy-hood. You are not scared to be alone in your own room, for that I am so proud of you. I'm shocked when you don't want me to lay you down and tuck you in, you prefer to climb into your bed by yourself and pull your own blankets on. You tell daddy to "Go!", when you think he's going to make you get out of your bed. You tell me "No, Mommy", when I try to put Snoopy next to you the way you used to like. You are so independent now. As hard as it is to carry you, I melt every time you want "Up!", and gently rest your head on my shoulder. I rest mine on yours and embrace the time for what it is. I see moments like these fading daily as you begin exploring the other things life is presenting to you.

I hate...

I hate being emotional with a husband that doesn't believe in crying. (unless it's an absolute disaster causing the tears; death or the equivalent) I hate being in a position to try to keep my head up when things are crumbling around me. I hate how R and I feed off each others bad moods, creating the impossibly worse mood. I hate how I don't remember anything anymore. I hate how when I work really hard to pull off a parts order one fucking part can ruin the whole attempt creating a failure. I hate the urge to pull my hair out. Really. I hate getting upset at other drivers when Tide is in the car. In fact I hate getting upset in front of Tide, it's an emotion he doesn't understand. It confuses him and makes me sad. I hate stupid people. I hate people who shoo dogs away so they won't be touched by them. I hate how my parents both disappoint me and I'm the only one who works at our relationships. I hate how you have to work at some relationships, it shouldn't be work. I hate it when the wind blows my paperwork around my office. I hate being annoyed by customers. I hate people who think we are filthy rich, when we're scraping by. (what business is it of theirs anyway) I hate. I hate and I wish I was more positive than that.

Time to write.

I'm having problems getting time to write. I have the time, just not time when R isn't able to walk in on me at any given moment. I don't think he'd care. (I hope) He just laughs at me when I'm reading blogs online or various pregnancy sites/message boards. So, It's hard for me to write without him finding out. I'm sure he eventually will and we'll hit that bump when it happens. Until then I'll take my opportunities as they come. Todays chance is due to a water test that is not going well. R just came stomping through pissed that what he thought was the problem, isn't. (it's a very difficult problem to trace... it only acts up at wide-open-throttle.) So, he's out on the water for a while.

Tide announced, after R asking him what day it was, that "Today is Friday!" At that nice surprise, R asked what day tomorrow is, Tide, smiling broadly, "Saturday!" Yeah! Go Tide Go!

I found a red plastic twin size race car bed in the newspaper, so R and I went on Wednesday night, bartered and bought Tide his first big boy bed. The hood opens for storage and the spoiler at the head of the bed is shelves for books, light, etc. We're going to battle our flea problem this weekend. (first time I've had to fight fleas since moving to Florida... good god they multiply quickly and are impossible to terminate!) We're treating our three small carpet nests, leaving home, returning with a rented shampooer and cleaning all three rooms. Once that is done, we'll move Tide's new bed into his new room, (formerly R's den), rearrange and set up his old room as the nursery/play room. We've treated the dogs, R went to treat the yard yesterday and we realized the hurricanes destroyed our spreader thing, so we still need to get the yard done too. It'll be a busy weekend. We need to shop for a mattress set and bedding for Tide, grocery shop (on a weekend, something I always do in the middle of the week after work), and search the thrift stores for two bedroom chests. This should be fun. All with Tide and R. The only up side is R usually can entertain Tide during shopping trips, which is very useful. Though it's still hard for all of us to do a day of shopping. Not R's cup of tea. Actually it's not mine either, but I tolerate it better.

I'm still very tired. I can't wait until I get some energy back. I also keep having the strangest dreams. They're all very complicated and involve various women in my life. I've heard it's normal to have strange dreams during pregnancy. I'm trying not to worry about my weight... I just dread the idea of hitting 250... I hope I can avoid that, but whatever happens will happen. I fantasize about getting down to 170 after birth... to fit into normal size clothes... to not get disgusted when I see pictures of myself. If being fat has taught me anything, it's definitely helped me realize that when I was a size 12 I was in no way FAT. So, maybe it's a good thing. Yeah, right.

I had a visit from Mother on Wednesday, she was dropping off Tide's Easter basket and one for R and I. She apparently didn't understand or hear me when I told her to call first and I could keep Tide late a morning so she could give him his basket. Whatever. My Aunt Pat thinks that my Mother probably thinks she's doing the Grandmother thing right. You know, she did give the kid a basket! So, what the fuck do I want from her! She also looks worse... pale, yellowed, and even more swollen. I can't mention her going to a Doctor or anything like that without her getting hysterical. (mostly about money) Get a fucking job then. There is nothing wrong with her where she wouldn't be able to work. She claims people won't hire her because of her age. Which is pure bullshit, Florida is the state of old farts! I see people 20 years older than her working! So, I don't say a word, I just let her do whatever she's going to do.

On that note I'm done. This is only bringing me down, and it shouldn't.