this is going to be a long one...
As I heaved my pregnant body out of bed this morning and tried to waddle as quietly as I could out of the room so as not to wake Avery and the husband (yes she still sleeps in our bed – tsk tsk away if you must) the floor groaned underneath me as the weight of the day to come settled itself on my shoulders. As usual, I spend my time in the shower worrying and washing. I go over my to-do list while I blow dry my hair, and by the time I get in the car to head to the office, I feel overwhelmed.
It is silly, because I have a lot to be thankful for and not much to worry about. I just find that things start to get unmanageable at this time of year. I think this all began when my mother called the other day and began telling me how I have never done anything for her and I should be getting more involved in the ongoing divorce saga between her and my father and he is such an evil man and how can I still talk to him…and her psychiatrist thinks that her children should be doing more for her and don’t we understand how sick and depressed she is….blah blah blah. This was all while my daughter screamed and cried in the background for her dinner and husband was just coming in the door from work and my uterus was hardening itself up against the enormous amounts of stress hormones that my body was beginning to pump out as a result of this phone call. I think I am beginning to hate my mother.
This is a fairly usual conversation that my mother and I have. To get into the details and history of the relationship and the circumstances of everything on this blog would be a tremendous undertaking and one that I am not willing to put effort into. Suffice it to say that my mother is wrong and very selfish and I am pregnant, tired, looking after a toddler and truly do not need to put up with her shit anymore.
Next item:
Avery has become very obsessive about dirt. She does not like it on her hands (by dirt I mean food particles, marker, fluff from the carpet…I could go on) and the other day she took a cloth down from the countertop and began wiping the floor with it, grunting away on her hands and knees, saying “dirty, dirty” over and over again. At first, I thought it was really funny and got out the video camera. Then I started to wonder where she would be getting this from. I certainly never get down on my hands and knees to wash the floors. I am definitely not a clean freak either. I can only assume that she is getting it from her daycare provider – my girlfriend who lives next door. This woman has convinced my daughter that dirt, poop and wet socks are horrible things and Avery has absorbed all of this. She has truly become obsessed. Also, she is afraid of feathers (in particular the down feathers that sometimes escape from our duvet) and fluffy things on the carpets. I have to remove the offending feather or “fluffy” from her sight and flush it down the toilet where we stand and say goodbye to it while Avery furrows her brow and asks me 500 times if it is gone yet. Is this normal? I AM NOT encouraging this. I try to make it out like it is not a big deal but she remains upset. I don’t know what to do.
Next item:
Secret (fucking) Santa at work. You draw a name; you spend $20 on a gift for this person. I got the name of a contract employee who I do not know very well and who will be gone in a few months. I have left this to the last minute and now must run out at lunch and get something for Thursday this week. For fucks sake.
Next item:
The potluck, also this Thursday, at our office. I have volunteered to bring potato (fucking) salad. When am I going to make this? Husband is on nights and I have barely enough time to get dinner and bath done with a very demanding toddler at night. I have found a solution: I will buy a giant tub of potato salad from the market after work tonight and add some chives and possibly slices of kosher pickles to make it look authentic.
Next item:
Christmas (fucking) cards. Haven’t even started them. Was informed by husband that I need to get on this because we have received a bunch from some of the Captains and even the Chief of his department so I had better send them one as well. Ugh.
Next item:
Christmas day dinner at my father’s house with his girlfriend’s half-retarded family members, Avery and no husband because he is on day shift. My father asked that we do not do gifts this year, which is fine. He called me the other day to tell me that he hopes I will not be upset but he did get gifts for his girlfriend, her children (22 and 25) and MY OWN BROTHER but the whole “not doing gifts this year” still applies to me.
Next item:
Boxing Day with the in-laws. The only thing that is going to light up this day is the absolutely horrible gift I will be giving to my mother in law, which I still have not put together yet. But I am looking forward to that. As for the rest of it, I can only say that if I were not pregnant, I would be half in the bag by the time they came over to our house.
I think that about does it for now. I am going to muddle through this week and then try to mentally block out the holidays and soon it will all be over!
Fa la la la la.
It is silly, because I have a lot to be thankful for and not much to worry about. I just find that things start to get unmanageable at this time of year. I think this all began when my mother called the other day and began telling me how I have never done anything for her and I should be getting more involved in the ongoing divorce saga between her and my father and he is such an evil man and how can I still talk to him…and her psychiatrist thinks that her children should be doing more for her and don’t we understand how sick and depressed she is….blah blah blah. This was all while my daughter screamed and cried in the background for her dinner and husband was just coming in the door from work and my uterus was hardening itself up against the enormous amounts of stress hormones that my body was beginning to pump out as a result of this phone call. I think I am beginning to hate my mother.
This is a fairly usual conversation that my mother and I have. To get into the details and history of the relationship and the circumstances of everything on this blog would be a tremendous undertaking and one that I am not willing to put effort into. Suffice it to say that my mother is wrong and very selfish and I am pregnant, tired, looking after a toddler and truly do not need to put up with her shit anymore.
Next item:
Avery has become very obsessive about dirt. She does not like it on her hands (by dirt I mean food particles, marker, fluff from the carpet…I could go on) and the other day she took a cloth down from the countertop and began wiping the floor with it, grunting away on her hands and knees, saying “dirty, dirty” over and over again. At first, I thought it was really funny and got out the video camera. Then I started to wonder where she would be getting this from. I certainly never get down on my hands and knees to wash the floors. I am definitely not a clean freak either. I can only assume that she is getting it from her daycare provider – my girlfriend who lives next door. This woman has convinced my daughter that dirt, poop and wet socks are horrible things and Avery has absorbed all of this. She has truly become obsessed. Also, she is afraid of feathers (in particular the down feathers that sometimes escape from our duvet) and fluffy things on the carpets. I have to remove the offending feather or “fluffy” from her sight and flush it down the toilet where we stand and say goodbye to it while Avery furrows her brow and asks me 500 times if it is gone yet. Is this normal? I AM NOT encouraging this. I try to make it out like it is not a big deal but she remains upset. I don’t know what to do.
Next item:
Secret (fucking) Santa at work. You draw a name; you spend $20 on a gift for this person. I got the name of a contract employee who I do not know very well and who will be gone in a few months. I have left this to the last minute and now must run out at lunch and get something for Thursday this week. For fucks sake.
Next item:
The potluck, also this Thursday, at our office. I have volunteered to bring potato (fucking) salad. When am I going to make this? Husband is on nights and I have barely enough time to get dinner and bath done with a very demanding toddler at night. I have found a solution: I will buy a giant tub of potato salad from the market after work tonight and add some chives and possibly slices of kosher pickles to make it look authentic.
Next item:
Christmas (fucking) cards. Haven’t even started them. Was informed by husband that I need to get on this because we have received a bunch from some of the Captains and even the Chief of his department so I had better send them one as well. Ugh.
Next item:
Christmas day dinner at my father’s house with his girlfriend’s half-retarded family members, Avery and no husband because he is on day shift. My father asked that we do not do gifts this year, which is fine. He called me the other day to tell me that he hopes I will not be upset but he did get gifts for his girlfriend, her children (22 and 25) and MY OWN BROTHER but the whole “not doing gifts this year” still applies to me.
Next item:
Boxing Day with the in-laws. The only thing that is going to light up this day is the absolutely horrible gift I will be giving to my mother in law, which I still have not put together yet. But I am looking forward to that. As for the rest of it, I can only say that if I were not pregnant, I would be half in the bag by the time they came over to our house.
I think that about does it for now. I am going to muddle through this week and then try to mentally block out the holidays and soon it will all be over!
Fa la la la la.
Labels: attachment parenting, Avery, Christmas, husband, Pregnancy, work bullshit
posted by vegan mum at 11:05 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home