Baby Spit

So, I may be "with child", at least for now, but that does NOT mean that I will happily clean up your child's vomit. No, not because it's "good practice" or I need to "get used to it". I'm sorry, I'll deal with my child's vomit when it happens, until then, I do not see how my reluctance to clean up your child's vomit affects my ability to be a mother. So stop looking at each other with knowing eyes and suggesting I'm unfit, unprepared, or otherwise doomed for failure.

More on the Baby Front

I'll probably start a different blog for all the baby stuff. Because I might want to share that with family eventually...maybe...but this blog, is not for them. But, I did want to add more to the baby story before I forgot and don't have a new blog yet, so the baby stuff is going here for now. I'm very sorry if you're not interested.

So, I took the first hpt Christmas morning...at like 3:30 am because that's when I woke up. Since we've been back from Rome we've been EARLY morning people. It's getting better, but for the first 3 days or so we were getting up around 4am! Today I slept all the way to 6:30am, go me! Anyway, I slipped into the bathroom and opened the single test I had purchased before we left for Rome...because...well...like I said before, I kind of thought I'd need it.

Peed on the stick, put it on the back of the toilet and then washed my hands. Then proceeded to blow my nose - I've been sick - which gave legitimate reason to stay in the bathroom as I was pretty sure Mr. Man was awake, or at least semi-awake, in bed. And there it was. A pink plus sign. And I stared at it...not quite believing what I was seeing. I mean, seriously...sure I'd THOUGHT that was what would happen, but seeing it was still totally shocking somehow.

So I left it in the cupboard over the toilet, and went back to bed. Where I mulled it over in my mind, and fidgeted and sniffled enough to annoy Mr. Man. I got back up, went to the bathroom, blew my nose again, and retrieved the stick, after taking another long look. I got back in bed and stashed the stick in my nightstand. Then fidgeted and sniffled some more. Mr. Man had enough. He suggested, kindly, that I just get up as I was clearly not going back to sleep. So then I said, I have a present for you! Can I give it to you and then we can go back to sleep? (ha! yeah right!) He said no...it was too early, but go ahead and get up if I wanted. So I did - and that's when I wrote the post on Christmas morning. See, you Internets found out before Mr. Man. How about that? (or would have if anyone actually read this blog, but I like pretending)

Then I was left trying to decide how to tell him. I'd daydreamed this whole thing in the shower one day when I was suspicious. (I daydream in the shower often...it makes for long showers and high water bills, but I enjoy it) In the daydream I took the test Christmas morning because that would be the latest my period should be starting, and, hello? it's Christmas! How romantic! Okay, well, check! did that. In the daydream then I put the stick in a pretty bag or something, and put it under the tree...but hidden. We open all the presents from our families (we got nothing for each other as Rome was our Christmas present...and a baby apparently) and then at the end I pull out this gift bag and say one of a couple different options. (extensive daydreams people) Option 1: I know we weren't supposed to get gifts for each other, but you can't return this one and we made it together (insert sappy smile, cheesey music)...so I think it's okay - hand him the bag, he opens it, look of surprise (music soars) , hug, yada yada. Option 2: I know we weren't supposed to get gifts for each other, but I already peed on it so you can't return it...hand him the bag, he grabs it delicately with a look of concern, threatens to not open it, I encourage him, he sees the stick and then we hug and kiss, yada yada.

Well, I wound up doing neither exactly...after writing the Christmas Day post, I went back into the bedroom and grabbed the stick, and my iPod for pretense, and then left. I stared at it in the office by the computer. The wrapping stuff was in the office, but we had no gift bags that were Christmas-y. We had paper and boxes, but that seemed like too much trouble. So I just grabbed some silver tissue paper, and wrapped the stick in that. Simplest is best, right? Or I'm lazy. Take your pick.

Well, that was sitting on the desk next to me when he came in about 20 minutes later and said, okay, I'm up, we may as well go open our presents. At 5 am. Best time to open presents if you ask me. ;-)

He turned to leave so I quickly grabbed the stick in the tissue paper, hid it in the blanket I'd been sitting with, and followed him downstairs. The stick would stay hidden in that blanket while we opened all the other presents (and started breakfast - orange rolls, yumm!).

So, after we opened all the gifts under the tree, I told him, I have one more present for you. And I couldn't keep the grin off my face. He looked at me suspiciously, but with a grin to answer mine. I grabbed the tissue out of the blanket, and just handed it to him, wordlessly, with a smile. He looked at me quizzically, and then unwrapped it, looked at it for maybe a second and then exclaimed, are you serious?!? And then jumped up and hugged me so tight! A hug and a kiss, another hug and a kiss, then back to looking at the stick. Looking at me, at the stick...and then...wow.

So that was it. After my clever ideas in the daydream...wordless was best.

Merry Christmas

So much to say. So much has happened! We went to Rome - amazing. We didn't know it, but we may have had an extra passenger...

I took a home pregnancy test this morning. It's funny. I'd suspected I might be pregnant since shortly before we left for Rome actually. So for a little over a week now, maybe even a week and a half. I know, I know. You can't TELL you are in the first few weeks. But...well, I really thought I could. I don't know what to tell you. But even after thinking I was knocked up for a week and a half, I was still surprised to see the positive plus sign this morning. And now...I feel like we may be in waaaay over our heads. Which I think means I have a healthy sense of reality.

So why did I think I was preggo, even before a positive test? Well, it's funny...I've started thinking I'm a mittelschmertz woman. You know, the weird ones that can feel themselves ovulate? I'd started tracking it and this was the second month...you know, to see if it tracked. So far, indeed it does!

Now, we weren't trying to get pregnant. As in, we weren't charting and purposefully getting intimate at "fertile" times of my cycle. In fact...we'd only been intimate once this last cycle. We were going to get all hot and heavy in Rome but I got sick - nasty snotty, coughy sick...not exactly romantic. :) But when I was looking up cycle stuff to see about mittelschmertz before we left, I wound up curious. Our "intimate time" - you know, The Sex - had occurred 3 days before my "mittelschmertz" - supposed ovulation. Surely...SURELY sperm don't live that long? Dr. Google will tell you they can...inside a woman.

Huh. How about that. I tried to push it out of my head. I mean...seriously. Get real. And then the boobies got tender. But hey, that happens normally in my cycle. Maybe not this much...maybe not this week, but whatev. I'm not on birth control, things could be off. Then on the plane and throughout the trip I noticed I was way more sensitive to smell than Mr. Man. Hmm...isn't that...? Nahhhhh. I mean, I usually have a more sensitive sniffer...and then last night I made sugar cut-out cookies. You know...the kind with the incredibly yummy, possibly salmonella tainted, dough? Well I tasted a little of the dough...and it didn't...taste good! I mean, I was pretty sure it tasted right, but I didn't want to eat any more. Alarm bells? I think so.

And still, I'm not 100% convinced as I write this. I find myself thinking I should get another test...just to be sure. And reminding myself that miscarriage in the first 12 weeks is sadly common. So...in other words, I'm not counting this baby before it "hatches." But...we just might, maybe be pregnant.

Merry Christmas to us! (and we said Rome was our gift to each other this year)

Insert Foot Here

Well I feel like an old calloused heel (pun intended). So, in my last post, I complained rather loudly about my husband's impending descent into clinical depression, which is so nice to begin with. Well, I had resolved that if he was unchanged the following day, I would strongly suggest gently encourage him to seek counseling. I would start there and then see how far it had to escalate before he got help or something...

Well, it looks like he just needed the evening to himself and a good night's sleep. Because the next day he was better.

So that's that. I'm just a callus old heel.

Already Behind

Well, I guess I'll go back to posting when I feel like it. More like when I find the time. That's fine.

Even though I'm trying to include more positive stuff, tonight is not the night.

Mr. Man and I are stressed. Very stressed over the house stuff. We're also leaving for Europe in less than a week. Mr. Man also no longer really likes his job. He went from LOVING it to feeling frustrated because it's not a "career". Today and the past few days he's been extra doom and gloom. I can't take it much more.

Seriously, when he's depressed, which I would say he is heading back into clinical depression, it's like a life-sucking gray cloud hangs over him and around him. It is not fun to be around to him, to attempt to talk to him, or otherwise have anything to do with him. I guess this is the "worse" part in better or worse.

The problem is...I don't know what more I can do. I offer to listen, but he doesn't want to talk. I try to do things to cheer him up, he barely grimaces in return. I'm considering tough love, but I'm not sure that is what he needs. I think he needs a counselor, but he "hasn't found one he likes". I just want to call bull shit and say keep looking. For God's sake do something. But instead he just despairs himself into a black hole.

And it's not like I'm super mentally stable here. I'm borderline depressed too. I feel like a failure too. This shit is happening to me too. And on top if it, I'm working TWO jobs, both of which are more demanding than his one, thanks very much. Sure pretty flexible hours, but way more demanding.

What kills me is that we're supposed to be best friends. Partners. And he's shutting me out. Whenever anything gets tough, he shuts down, and shuts me out. What kind of friend is that? How can we be partners when he excludes me from the important stuff?

The worst part is, I feel like he's all talk and mope, and no action. You want a career sir? Then go fucking get one. Stop the woe-is-me-my-life-is-shit routine and do something about it. Until now we needed you to keep a job to pay the mortgage. Now? We're short selling the house and not paying the mortgage, so go do whatever it is you have to do to Pull. Your. Head. Out.

Ugh. I'm just so frustrated.

Saw this from PhDcomics, had to share:

Maybe...Every Other Day

That seems a little more reasonable. And do-able.

Yesterday we busted our butts cleaning and re-arranging our house. Staging it, as it were. (that's what they call it in the biz) Yeah, we're no where near done. We have a lot of STUFF. The kind of clutter and personal items that we're supposed to expunge from the home. But...where do we put it?

And it's kind of heart breaking. It's been all well and good to talk about financially sound choices and decide things based on numbers, but when we get down to it. We're moving. We're selling our house. We won't get to live here any more. And that's sad!

But I remind myself we were going to leave eventually anyway. And now we get an extra adventure thrown in that we never expected. Maybe that will turn out to be the best kind...

Of course, the fact I loathe surprises doesn't help sell that idea...

Choices

Over the past 6 months or maybe a little more I've been realizing more and more that life really just is a series of choices. There's no magic formula - no correct sequence to complete the level. In fact, there are no levels. I hadn't even realized that I really viewed life as a video game with a "right" combination to get to the ending one wants, until that view started falling away.

You have choices, and you live with the consequences. That's it.

My dad would say there is just one choice: be good or not. Everything else falls from that. It makes sense.

But doesn't entirely help my decision making process currently. As much as I feel that short selling our house is the "right" or best decision for our circumstance - I still feel guilt. I still worry I won't like the consequences. But ultimately, we can only make the best decision we can based on the information we have. Sadly, short sale is the best option.

So then we have to choose who to sell our house with - do we go with an investment company that seems sketchy but could be legit and would be faster (thus minimizing damage to our credit) or do we go with the real estate agent that totally checks out, would only be representing our interests, not her own, but would take longer as we'd have to wait for a buyer (thus more potential damage to our credit)? We're leaning toward the second option heavily. I guess we can always go back to the first one if we're way into the process and no buyers are turning up...

This weekend will be busy - and it's half over! I have papers to write, paperwork to get in order and a house to clean and stage. Oh yeah, and a trip to Italy to plan. *deep breaths* and one thing at a time...it'll get done.

New Leaf

So far I've used this blog to vent. The consequence of this is that all the stressful, potentially negative or otherwise unpleasant things in my life are recorded. How sad! I've thought about this for awhile and want to start writing something everyday...good or bad. And hopefully it'll start to even out and be a more representative sample of what's actually going on.

The trouble with that, while it sounds good, is that I'm mostly motivated to write when I need to vent. Not when things are going well.

So we'll see how this goes.

For now I would like to say that I'm getting very excited and nervous about Italy. It's sure to be an adventure...I'm excited for all the new experiences. But starting to get nervous about all that could "go wrong". I try to remind myself that as long as we both live through the ordeal and make it back in one piece, everything else is just "adventure" but it's not very comforting. I'd prefer to not get robbed. I'd prefer to not miss a plane. I'd prefer for our luggage to not get lost or stolen. :)

I've also found an apartment that I think will be EXCELLENT. I've got my heart set on us living there after we have to leave the house...I hope it's as excellent as I think. And I hope it works out...