Just a warning: I’m so tired today that I’m going to go off on a little rant here about Ryan. I’m not even mad at him or anything. In fact, I’m very much looking forward to spending the evening with him. Here’s why:
I’m slightly fearful that my husband is running himself ragged. I don’t know exactly what he’s trying to pull off these days… maybe he’s trying to fit in everything he ever wanted to do before the baby gets here, but it’s getting ridiculous, and frankly, it worries me a little. We talked about it last night as he was telling me how utterly exhausted he is.
He booked 2 shows for 2 different bands that he plays in for next weekend. I was sort of kind of pissed about this, because next week is our anniversary, and to me that meant that we weren’t doing anything for our anniversary weekend. And because it’s our last anniversary as a childless couple (sort of) I was hoping we’d do something special. Not looking good for what I want though. Then I was pissed because one of the shows is in Pittsburgh, and the other is in Zelienople, both of which are a far drive from Butler, and both of which are in bars. I can’t hang out in bars anymore. The cigarette smoke kills me and trying to move through a crowd and waiting for the bathroom makes me miserable. He was actually shocked when I told him I wasn’t going. And here’s the real kicker, I could go into labor at any time, duh!
So in the build up of all these shows, he’s had practice whenever he possibly can, and after working a 12 hour day then having practice, he’s pretty much useless. We’re also trying to get a mortgage from somewhere on our house, since we’re just doing a rent to own thing now, and that’s pretty pointless. Our checkbook hasn’t been balanced all month and I have no idea how much money we really have, therefore I can’t pay bills (and I’m not allowed to balance the checkbook because I always seem to fuck it up… I have number dyslexia… seriously, I don’t know if that’s real, but if it is, I have it). This weekend I have a wedding and he’s going to see U2. And I mentioned to him last night that we don’t have much alone time left together. He’s spent every weekend for the past few months going out, leaving me at home by myself, and personally, I’m fucking sick of it. We didn’t even go out that much before I was pregnant, people used to come to our house. Now he goes out and I’m alone.
I’m just a little frustrated, because even though he has been a huge source of support for me, and I know I probably couldn’t have made it through the past 9 months without him, this is the time that I need him the most, and he’s spending it running his ass off. I’m sick of the phone ringing constantly for him, I’m sick of falling asleep by myself every night, and I’m just plain sick of being by myself all the time. The person that I hang out with the most these days is my mother.
So I flat out told him last night that tonight he’s hanging out with me. And that’s that.
I’m seriously so fucking tired today I could probably bitch for hours.
I went to the doctor yesterday afternoon and they didn’t check my cervix, which was disappointing. Not that I enjoy getting it checked by any means, it’s just nice to have a gauge of what my body is doing in preparation for having this baby. I was told that they’ll start checking it next week, which will be week 38. Since I was just starting to dilate and efface last week, I was pretty curious to see what a difference (if any) a week would make. But oh well. Yesterday was my last appointment with a male doctor, so I was kind of glad they didn’t check me. I think I’ve decided I’d rather have a woman looking at my area. Men creep me out.
Also, I have carpal tunnel syndrome. Very common when pregnant. Should go away once I deliver the Fuzz. For now I have to deal with a numb and tingly right hand.
Happy news that I got yesterday:
I don’t have to pay as much for my insurance as I originally thought I would. That makes me incredibly happy and takes a huge load off my back. Now I don’t feel like I have to rush back to work. I can take my time and recover and get to know my kid for the whole 12 weeks. Joy.
Also, my mom did finally sell a puppy. She sold Ziggy, the male, to a family member for a mere 500 bucks. She wanted to know that he was going to a good home and not a bunch of freakin weirdos, so my dad’s ex-sister-in-law bought him. I know that sounds a little strange, but to me she’s always been Aunt Karen. That’s just my family. So I’m happy that one of our puppies found a good family to live with, especially since we can keep tabs on him and they won’t mind.
Have I mentioned how incredibly tired I am?