I’m Beautiful Like Me.

Husband still doesn’t have a job. It’s highly unlikely that he’ll get his position back at the company that was given a bad background check. We aren’t seeing any opportunity for recourse.
Buddha is sick. I vaguely recall him feeling a bit warm last night during the late-night nursing session. It was confirmed by vomit in the crib this morning. He was fine earlier, but he’s grown cranky as the day has continued. He’s extra whiny and clingy.

I’ve been plugging away at my mom’s site for at least 50 hours and she is going to pay me $100. She made a pointed remark that she just spend “quite a bit of money” on Joy for school uniforms and supplies. We’re talkin’ maybe $50. It’s like a slap in the face. That’s $2 an hour. Needless to say, I’m done working on the site, even if everything isn’t as I had planned.

I have no idea how we are going to pay our rent.

A long-ass time ago, Husband got himself into a bit of trouble. It was all really stupid (especially the part where he got caught) and has been a thorn in his side for a multitude of reasons since. In any case, when the staffing agency that employs him ran his background check, the information came back (as we expected) inaccurately (we didn’t see that comin’). It made his previous troubles exponentially worse and therefore, they let him go. Husband met with them yesterday, taking along all the original court documents. He called our lawyer, he called the lawyer from years ago, he called the clerk’s office in the county where it happened. Maybe he’ll get his job back. But his job loss has created a domino-effect of other great reasons to be pissy.

No more medical insurance = no more Paxil. I’m on my last month’s prescription, so I’m taking matters into my own hands (remember how well that went last time?) and weaning on my own. I started Saturday and already I’m all sorts of bitchy. And just like last time, I’m PMSing.

I was supposed to ride to Indianapolis on Saturday to meet up with Monkeytoes and go to that Daughtry concert with her. Yeah, no cash flow for even gas. I had to cancel with her at the last minute. I would have felt soooo much worse if she didn’t have a friend to take after all. While I’m not a huge Daughtry fan, it has been years since I’ve been to a concert and we have planning this since April. I’m pretty fuckin’ disappointed.

T is gone. I put her on the plane on Sunday afternoon and the little shit didn’t even call to let me know she made it okay. Before heading to the airport, we dropped Joy off at Big Rob’s because he was headed out to Oma’s. I had to ask my mom to buy Joy’s school supplies and some new uniforms since Joy’s Nana didn’t bother this year (the past I-don’t-know-how-many summers, she has at least taken care of uniforms and the new backpack), although she did get Joy a backpack. I’m sure you can imagine how much fun my mom had trying to locate uniforms the Sunday before school started. Even I called three different stores (on top of the countless stores mom called) and everyone was out of Joy’s size. For a pleasant Oma this did not make.

Since the girls were both gone and Husband was home, I spent the rest of a seemingly endless Sunday cleaning the entire house, including Joy’s room. It didn’t take long, but it was tedious as hell and I found all sorts of food-related garbage that I know is from T in that room. When Joy came back home yesterday, I had to get onto her at least 4 different times to keep it clean in there. I just don’t understand how one little girl can be so similar to a natural disaster.

We went to the WIC office yesterday to renew. I was miffed that the nutritionist asked me what I am doing with the milk I get from the WIC checks since we don’t give Buddha cow’s milk. I told her I was still nursing, but she still insisted that he needs a good source of calcium. Erm… hello?!

Mom met with us there to drop Joy to me. We came back home for a bit, I did some laundry, some meal-planning, then we headed to the park for a bit. We went to Wal*Mart to get some diapers and a few other things (that we can’t really afford), came back home to start dinner. Husband and I got into another tiff. He does this really annoying thing where he comes in and either tells me how I “should be” doing something or just takes over. I totally flew off the handle on him. In hindsight, it was pretty stupid. I just remember how I was so consumed with anger. He knows how much I hate it when he interferes. He did try to apologize or at least calm me down. I would have none of it. I finished my chores and went to bed, not even having any dinner. It was 7pm. I woke up briefly at just before 9pm long enough to call Joy in from outside, make her take her pill and usher her into the shower. I scooped up the boy and the two of us went to bed. I slept until 6:30am this morning.

I have got to do something - anything - about the level of anger I reach when he makes me mad. I have never experienced feelings like this before. I dream up all sorts of violent things to do to him when he makes me mad. I want to break shit. Since I cannot (as of yet) find a better solution, I just remove myself from where ever he is. It isn’t practical, for one. For another thing, it just cannot be healthy. He’s my husband and, normally, my best friend. I shouldn’t feel like he is my enemy. I know he is not, but when I reach that level, it feels like he is.

The only good solution I have come up with: one of us needs to get a fuckin’ job.

Joy arrived home on Monday. It’s really nice to have her home, but the child is such a slob! No sooner than she dragged her suitcase into her room, it was a disaster area. She’s like a hurricane. Hurricane Joy.

Last night, P took both of the girls for the night. Husband and I hit the grocery store and came home for a quiet dinner. He entertained the boy for a bit and I nursed him to sleep. We enjoyed the quiet of the evening. It’s been rare this summer!

Some time in the past few days, Buddha has become a complete nightmare. He started squealing this high-pitched squawk that hits that nerve. He is into everything. I cannot leave the room to pee without him sneaking ink pens out of the desk drawer or trying to unplug the outlet covers. He climbs the furniture, knocks down the lamp, and whines incessantly all.day.long. Yesterday was awful. He fought nap time vehemently, nursing one moment and squirming off the bed the next. And our bedroom is so not child-proofed. There is the stereo (buttons for him to push which could deafen the neighbors), Husband’s guitar (which he likes to strike with whatever heavy object might be lying around), the box fans to help circulate the air (missing fingers, anyone?) not to mention the girls are terrible about keeping the bathroom door closed (let’s not even humor those thoughts). He’s crafty: he has managed to pass most barriers we’ve erected to keep him in or out. He’s fast, too. My sweet boy has become possessed by demons, I think.

T’s report of last night’s events at P’s house sounds standard. Joy and her friend, L bickered all night long. Why do these kids beg relentlessly to hang out when all they do is fight?!! I’m considering sending P flowers and a well-crafted letter of apology and thanks for tolerating that non-sense. The girls forgot to turn everything off and to feed the cat before they left last night, too. So when they returned home early this afternoon, I put them both to work.

While I scrubbed the bathroom and vacuumed the house, T cleaned the kitchen while Joy cleaned their bedroom. This morning, I cleared off the entire desk and dusted (while fending off the aforementioned persistently curious and grabby toddler). I got rid of Husband’s monster-sized stack of paperwork, which we still need to pore through. I balanced the checkbook, got our prescriptions filled and portioned for the next week, folded 3 loads of laundry and cooked dinner. I feel rather accomplished, thank you very much. But I am also grumpy. I’d rather be playing on Plurk or crocheting or spinning or reading or sleeping. And of course, by tomorrow, all of my work will be undone. I hate housework.

The rest of this week will be busy. On Saturday, I am going to Indianapolis to see Daughtry with Monkeytoes. I’d hoped we could all go, that we’d get an overnight room at a hotel with a pool and Husband could entertain the kids poolside while I attend the show with Monkeytoes. Unfortunately, things aren’t going to turn out that way and I will drive myself up and back home. Sunday, T is flying home around 2pm and afterwards, I am taking Joy to my mom’s for the night. Mom is taking her shopping for school supplies and uniforms (thank God, as we are so farkin’ broke). And school starts back on Tuesday!

On Saturday, we went to Iroquios Park for the Mountain and Hammered Dulcimer concert at the Amphitheater. It was nice, but much smaller than I had expected. T and the boy were bored and the whole lot of them were on my nerves, so we opted to walk over to the park instead. The boy needs more outdoor time these days, what with all his energy. He needs some place to put it that doesn’t involve climbing my furniture or destroying Husband’s computer parts.

But he loves exploring.

And checking out the water feature,
as long as he doesn’t get too wet.

He talks up a storm these days. His vocabulary includes several words that are very easy for anyone to understand: “hi,” “hello,” “daddy,” “mama,” “eat,” “please,” “thank you,” “up,” “down,” “uh-oh,” “no-no,” “eat,” “more,” “bye-bye,” “cup,” and a few others that currently elude me. He also says a number of words that only I seem to be able to understand. He has a distinct way of saying T’s name that everyone else thinks is “daddy.”

He loves bathtime and is generally intrigued with water, although he usually approaches it cautiously unless it’s bathwater. P took him with her to the pool last night and said he wanted nothing to do with the pool, but sat quietly with her poolside and watched others in the water intently for 45 minutes. Anyone who knows Buddha knows that he is typically far too high-strung for sitting long spells contently!

Getting him to sleep is a nightmare (pardon the pun). I am so unaccustomed to this, as Joy has always been a dream (sorry - couldn’t resist) when it comes to bedtime. Every night is a literal battle over getting him to rest. Even naptime has escalated into hellish torment. The boy will be so tired and cranky but still refuse to lay and rest. Husband and I have wondered if perhaps he is plagued by bad dreams or if he is just afraid of sleep. And now that he has figured out how to get up and down out of our bed, we have decided that it is time to get him sleeping in the crib. I am every bit as unhappy about this development as the boy is. He screams as though he is being tortured, despite the fact that we are right there, coddling and patting him, whispering unheard reassurances that all is well, hush now, it is time for bed. This leaves me stressed out and unable to sleep for several hours thereafter.

His appetite has been fluctuating like that of a toddler: one day he is fine with eating very little and the next day, he is a bottomless pit. He has several teeth coming in and it’s getting very uncomfortable to nurse. He has punctured the skin on my left nipple with those tiny teeth of his, despite the fact that he didn’t actually bite me. I suppose it is just friction that accompanies the suckling motion of his mouth. In any case, the past few days I have dreaded nursing, as this is his preferred side. Wouldn’t it follow that he has wanted to nurse more these past few days? He really loves bananas and he enjoyed helping me eat the Rainier cherries (see last post). He likes sausage and chicken and french fries (well, any sort of potato, really) and pasta and olives and fish. His dislikes seem to be more about texture than taste.

He loves watching Jack’s Big Music Show and Blue’s Clues. He loves music. He likes books. But he still prefers throwing things best. Unfortunately, he is usually throwing his heavy toys (like the flash light the in-laws sent to him for his first birthday) at people or our computers. He likes being outside or going for a ride in the car. He wanders around aimlessly like a butterfly when we go to the park. He likes drinking (only water!) from a cup.

Nursing this morning.
What’s daddy doing?!