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Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Can I Just Bitch for a Minute?

Yesterday left me so tired and stressed, I'm still very much feeling it today. I'm in an absolute funk and don't seem to be able to claw my way out of it.

So Saturday and Sunday nights, I worked graveyards, as per usual. Sunday before work, I was talking with Mr. Wolfman about the monster and how advanced he is, and how we need to figure out what we're going to do for extra academic stimulation in our tiny town. I made some comment about how we may not even be here by the time he starts school in a couple of years and if we move somewhere bigger, they may have more options for special classes*.

Mr. Wolfman then starts asking me what I'm talking about, and come to find out, what I thought was our very solid, agreed upon plan of finding out in the spring if there's any more room for advancement in his current job - and if not, looking for work outside of this town - was actually not our plan, and that the earliest we will likely move is the end of summer, 2018. 18. We will have been in this shit village for 5 years. I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE. It's not really a shit village. It's nice, if you're an outdoors person (I'd like to be, but I can't take the monster out hiking alone, because there's a reasonable chance we'd be eaten by wild animals - not an exaggeration. There are wolves, bears, mountain lions and coyotes around here). It's also nice if you're into winter sports (I'm not. And anyway, I'm pregnant this winter, next winter I will have a toddler and an infant, the next winter I'll have a preschooler and a toddler). Property here is prohibitively expensive, daycare here is prohibitively expensive. So basically, I'm going to remain a mostly SAHM until 2018, whether I want to or not (not that there's anything approaching a fulfilling job for me here, even if I had the education and experience, which I don't). At which point, I'll still have no education, and I'll have been out of the workforce for 4 years. I'm sure that'll look great on my resume.

So I went to bed, woke up to none of the food DH had said he was going to cook, went work at 11pm in a shit mood, got home around 8am, Mr. Wolfman let me sleep until almost 11, so nearly 3 hours, yay. I wanted to go out, Mr. Wolfman said he needed to shower before doing anything else. Two hours of sitting on the couch  later, he finally has his shower, comes out saying I should be ready to go (even though he hadn't said whether he wanted to go anywhere), because he thought he was driving me to the store to buy a plunger (oh yeah, I clogged the toilet on Saturday). I said I could walk to the store, so he says ok and sits back down on the couch and reads until it's time to go to work.

My plan was to work on cleaning the new glider (I got it for free from a buy&sell site. One of the things about our small village is that people leave frequently, and big, ugly furniture tends to get given away, so it being free was not suspicious at all. She said it was smoke and pet free. The lady's house smelled a little funky, but I didn't want to sniff this thing right in front of her. I should have. It smelled awful, but I didn't realize that until I got home and started to clean it. I had already gone out on Sunday afternoon to buy pet odour and urine stain remover). The cleaning solution seemed to bring whatever locked-in stench to the surface, so I was going to spray it, open all the windows, then go out to buy the plunger. I also needed to go grocery shopping because DH had decided that he didn't want the meal he didn't cook on Sunday night, he wanted something else that we needed more supplies for.

It took over 2 hours to leave the house, mostly due to the monster getting a tiny bit dressed, then needing to pee. So I've been smelling this stupid cleaner/random chair stink this whole time and starting to get a headache.

We finally got out of the house, walked about 15-20 minutes, then the monster has to pee. I tell him hang on, we run to the nearest bathroom (about 3 mins away) and he's had his first accident in over 2 weeks, soaked through his underwear, pants, shirt and sweater and wetted his coat and stroller. Get him cleaned up. But it hadn't occurred to me to bring an extra shirt or sweater and it was cold outside, so I put him in my hoodie ("Monster will have no sweater. Too long!") and go to the store to find a shirt for him that doesn't leave half his chest exposed. No luck there. He needs to pee again, so we end up using the staff bathroom in the back of the store. Grab plunger.

Go to an outdoor store and buy him an expensive base layer shirt. He has to pee again. Rush him to the nearest toilet.

Go to go to another store because I just got invited to my sister's baby shower (3rd in 4 years) and I need to find a reasonably cheap present for her.

Go to the bank. He needs to pee again. Bank is closed, so the nearest one is about 7-10 mins away. I tell him to hold it, finish at the ATM and bloody run to the grocery store. He's already had another accident. Change him, get him cleaned up (thank God I had a ridiculous stash of clean underwear and pants with me). Put him in a random diaper I found in the stroller, because fuck. Finish grocery shopping.

Go to visit Mr. Wolfman at work to drop off the apple he'd requested (at this point I'd been out for some 3.5 hours, on food, dealing with all of this).  The monster fell asleep on the way there, so after dropping off the apple and a snack for Mr. Wolfman, I go home, leave the monster in the stroller and collapse for a bit (maybe an hour and a half).

At the monster's bedtime, he was still asleep so I carefully transferred him to his own bed, go to cook food, and of course he wakes up. Wants food, wants stories, wants EVERYTHING.  Mr. Wolfman gets home and immediately starts complaining about various things that I haven't done around the house. He hangs up laundry - after complaining, because he works - then sits on the computer, because apparently getting the monster ready for bed is 100% my responsibility, for no fucking reason. I said I could cook and he could put the monster to bed, or he could cook and I could put the monster to bed. He is really resistant to doing bedtime.

Oh, and during this time, I discover massive haemorrhoids. I've been insisting I need that stupid damn glider for ages and telling Mr. Wolfman that if he keeps making me do bedtime (I usually have to sit on a step stool, because the monster's bed is so little), I'm going to get them. DH didn't see the point of buying a glider or any comfortable furniture and thought it was a waste of money/space. I only got the one I got because it was free. So yay for fire ass for the next 15 weeks.

So I finally get the monster ready for bed, get him to pee again (his diaper, after all that, was miraculously dry). Finally drag him to bed, read him his stories and try to get him to sleep. He won't sleep. After nearly an hour, he's asleep, I try to sneak out of the room, he wakes up and starts crying. I have to lie in his toddler bed with him and hug him until he's asleep, apparently. So I do this. He drifts off.  I'm about to sneak out when Mr. Wolfman opens the door, letting in light, then comes and stands over the bed, waking the monster up, then goes back out of the room (... thanks?). So I lie there some more and eventually both the monster and I drift off. Mr. Wolfman comes back in to go to bed. I get up to take my pill and find some food (Wolfman didn't cook anything, big surprise), monster wakes up and starts crying. I take my pill and hurry back to bed without even brushing my teeth.

Eventually I bring the monster to my bed, because, remember, I'm doing all this on 3 hours of sleep and I don't have the energy to enforce him sleeping in his own bed. By now it's well after midnight. He squirms around and fusses and takes probably another hour to fall asleep. Then he tosses and turns all night, waking me up repeatedly, but, of course, not Mr. Wolfman, who sleeps through anything.

Monster is up before 8am, because why the fuck not?

aaand, that's been my week so far. I'm starving and now have to cook dinner for lunch because Wolfman's insistence we get ingredients for a meal he apparently didn't even want (he ate at work, so he was fine) screwed up our budget for today.

Fuck. I'm so exhausted and so bitter and so at a loose end. All I want to do is curl into a ball and sleep for the next 10 years.  And this is supposed to be the relaxing time, before number two gets here.

Fuck.


*Maybe jumping the gun a bit here, but the monster has surpassed every non-motor-related milestone (as well as a few motor ones) incredibly early, so far. He already knows the alphabet, his shapes, colours, how to count to 10 in two languages and can count in his head. He can name all 30(!) of his toy cars (just make and/or model, not year). Generally, I think a lot of the stuff he knows is stuff that they go over in JK, two years from now, so we're a little concerned.

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Conversations with my Monster: Part 13

After the monster insisted for a bit, then took my hand and physically dragged me out of my chair, I relented and went to play cars with him.

Me: *picks up a car*

LM: Maybe Monster will drive the Renault.

Me: *picks up another car*

LM: Maybe Monster will drive Alfa Romeo.

Me: *picks up third car* Can I drive the BMW?

LM: Maybe Monster will drive the BMW Z4 *tries to take car out of my hands while refusing to let go of other 2 cars*

Me: *Stands up to return to my chair*

LM: *Maybe Mama will sit on the ground and play with cars!*



Sunday, November 13, 2016

Toddler Insults

The monster keeps calling me a Teddybear Bum. No idea what it is, but I get the impression that he thinks he's getting away with something every time he says it.

Saturday, November 12, 2016

The Great Potty Training Saga, Part 5: Amazed :)

About 6ish days ago, the monster decided to toilet train himself. 

He just started telling us when he needed to use the toilet, every single time. We were usually a couple of seconds late, so his diaper was still getting damp, but mostly everything ended up where it was supposed to.

We switched his diapers out for underwear, and had a day where he would start to pee, then run through the house to his toilet, desperate not to pee in his underwear (combined with asking in time. So we went through 5-6 pairs of underwear in a day). There were a couple of unfortunate poops.

Since then, he's had 3 accidents in 4 days, all of which were the same sort of Oh God, I'm peeing moments, followed by him running right away to the toilet. He hasn't had another poop accident during those days, and has woken up dry every morning (twice he woke us up in the night to use the toilet, twice we've been out of the house when he's said he had to go, he didn't like the public toilet available and he held it until we got home).

I'm flabbergasted. It was really like a switch flipped and he decided he was going to use the toilet from now on. He doesn't have an issue wearing diapers (he still wears them to bed and when we go out), just prefers to use the toilet. Would that the hobgoblin will do as well.

Of course, the latest accident - which happened just as I was thinking to myself that I could start to refer to the monster as toilet trained - happened all over my feet, a few minutes ago. So I guess I shouldn't get too far ahead of myself.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

Xmas Woes

Can I just whine for a minute?

So, last night, with daylight savings time, my shift went from 8 hours to 9 hours. Ok, that sucks, but it's an extra hour of pay, so whatever. I only got two hours of sleep yesterday afternoon because pregnancy heartburn has set in and it's kicking my ass. Luckily, it was a pretty quiet night, no extra work for me, so other than extreme tiredness, it was pretty good.

Until my manager showed up. Not that I have anything against her, but I'd asked her for Christmas eve off (not Christmas, just the one day) because my schedule has me working Xmas eve, Xmas, New Years Eve and New Years. So, I thought, hell, maybe she'll see that it's insane and wildly unfair for me to have to work every single important holiday (oh yeah, Thanksgiving, too) in the fall/winter, and I offered to work any other shift that week, or the next week, or whenever the guy who would be taking over for me wanted, if I could just have Xmas eve off. No dice. Apparently it wouldn't be fair because he has to work New Year's Eve, because everyone in my department has to work that day, because we're supposedly insanely busy. So... it's fair for me to work NYE and Xmas eve and Xmas and NYD, but not for him.

She said I can talk to him and if he's happy to switch with me, then she doesn't mind. This guy (the only other person trained in my role) is the biggest asshole. I fully intend to ask him, to be as sweet as pie, to keep my original offer to work literally any other night he wants me to. I'll bake him cookies, I'll bring him dinner, whatever he wants - but I fully expect him to say no. He has no family in town and I'm pretty sure he never leaves his house except for work (we live in a very small town and I have literally never seen him outside of work, ever). Other colleagues have told me he hates Christmas and thinks it's stupid, but he just seems like the type of person to get a kick out of making people's lives miserable. He's rude to our customers, to our coworkers, to everyone. When he trained me, I would ask questions and he would go on 25 minute tirades designed to make me feel stupid (none of which ever answered what I'd asked). Management seems to see him as a loveable grump. If he was my employee, he'd have been fired long ago.

And this is who I have to hope has a little compassion so that I can actually enjoy Christmas with my kid. I don't think I should get special treatment because of the monster, but I'd like to think that if I had a business and one of my employee's regular schedule had them working on every single winter holiday, that I'd move things around so that everyone at least had the chance to celebrate.

Mr. Wolfman and I combine our cultures' Christmases, so we celebrate his way on the 24th (traditional meal, one gift each) and my way on the 25th (stockings, one more small gift, turkey dinner).
Except this year, it will look like:

I go to bed when Mr. Wolfman gets home from work on the 24th (3:30pm). Mr. Wolfman cooks the entire meal alone while watching DS because I need to sleep. 7-8pm, I wake up and we have dinner and one present, then I go to work. Come home at 7:30am. Maybe DS can squeeze his stocking in there, because Mr. Wolfman starts work at 8. Then Mr. Wolfman gets home at 3:30 and I go to bed. No turkey dinner because I have to sleep and I'm not going to ask Mr. Wolfman to cook a way more complicated meal that I won't even have time to eat. And then I work all night and come home on boxing day... which I guess is when we get our Xmas day presents.

FUCK.

I am well aware that this falls squarely in the realm of a first world problem. I know it's just a date. I know that there are people who are starving, people who can't even spend one day of the holidays with their families, people who would balk at 6 presents and a stocking (and an advent calendar) for a family of 3, who would never waste money on two big, elaborate meals in as many days. But it still sucks. And I still ugly cried the entire 15 minute walk home this morning. And yeah, I'm crying right now.

I'm really afraid this will ruin the whole season for me, that I'll lose it every time I look at Christmas lights or someone asks me about my holiday plans. This is the first year that the monster is going to be interested in anything going on around Christmas and his last year as an only child. I wanted it to be really special for him. And part of me knows it still can be, if I stop being a weepy mess, but at the moment, that seems impossible.

FUCK.




Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Halloween

Halloween was fun. Nothing exceptional, but fun. It started snowing around 4:00pm, but that was fine for me, I had no intention of taking the monster trick-or-treating anyway.

I took the monster to a community event for preschoolers in the morning. Basically, it's a big indoor playgroup. It'll happen every week all winter. I kind of hated it, it was very loud, but I was impressed by the monster. Even though he's not very social and doesn't spend a lot of time around kids, he was considerate, didn't knock the smaller kids over (so weird that, at 2, there were a lot of kids smaller than him; he's a big fella), didn't fuss when other kids took the toys he was interested in. So, even though it wasn't my favourite, I plan on taking him once a week.

This one was Halloween themed, so all the kids were dressed up. The monster was a garden gnome (although he refused to wear his beard). I felt pretty smug that he was one of maybe 3 kids with a homemade costume. Don't get me wrong, some of them were really cute, but the sheer commercialism gets to me sometimes. I didn't take him to do any crafts, but he played with the toys they had out, and I was really impressed that they weren't giving out candy.

The highlight was probably when Time Warp came on and I just stood there wondering if the people putting on the event had ever actually listened to it. Then, the moment of truth came and they sang magic dance in place of pelvic thrust. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. The last thing I need is my monster chanting "pelvic thrust" everywhere he goes.*

I did later get the monster to wear his hat and gnome beard, but then he wouldn't sit still for a picture, so boo to that.

And I think that's it. I had a doctor's appointment today and everything is looking good. I'm starting to lose confidence in Dr. Ginger, a bit. She just seems really forgetful and all over the place. Which I get, I'm a bit like that, too, but I'm not a Dr. dealing with someone else's pregnancy, so I think I get a bit of a pass. I don't know, she asked if I'd had my ultrasound results yet (literally the reason for my last appointment with her). Last visit, she asked me if this was my first pregnancy while looking right at the monster - and I'm pretty sure that the she was the reason the lab who didn't run my genetic screening thought my due date was different than it is. Anyway, Dr. Illegible should be back soon, and I think I'm going to switch back for him for the rest of my pregnancy.

Oh, but I did, finally get the genetic screening results, and everything is negative, so yay for that!

*Today at my prenatal appointment, the nurse dropped my (empty) pee sample cup. The monster threw his arms in the air and exclaimed, "Oh, Jesus!" I was too tired to even be that embarrassed.