OOH OOH AHH AHH

How is my half-assed job hunt going?

Well, let's see. I was told at an informal interview that a monkey could do my current job. But I was also told they probably couldn't afford me.

?

???

So, I am so great at doing so little, that I am worth a butt load.

That is the only positive spin I can put on it.

It's kinda funny actually.

I would be laughing if it were not so sad.

Gestapo? Me?

Today, I am thinking about the defining roles that Eric and I carry in our house.

He is the person that takes care of all the breaks, leaks, grass mowin, animal feeding, tire kicking, and big furniture moving. You know all the big male stuff that little ole' me can't handle.

I do the women's work. I know its sexist but my dad calls it that. Eric insinuates it. E is already jumping on the bandwagon with, "Hey Mom, what's for dinner?" and "I need clean socks!" Even the baby totally knows who to turn to when tummy is empty or boo boos need to be kissed. I do what I can to keep the house somewhat presentable. I am no Martha Stewart, but I am what they were given and I think they are satisfied for the most part.

And you know what? I totally love it. Sure, I may act offended sometimes when I come home and they are laying across the bar barely able to lift their limp, malnourished bodies because between the two of them (Conner is still totally innocent here) they can't figure out that a (made by them) pb&j will totally take that hunger pain away until mom can get in here and make dinner.

The real job I am questioning, is the one of the financial planner.

The money distributor.

The bill payer.

The financial. decision. maker.

I don't wanna do that anymore.

I have always been the one to pay the bills, calculate the budget and keep things rockin along.

We have had to make some drastic cuts these last couple of months and since I handle the money, I kinda feel like I am the bad guy handing out the meager allowances and cheep stipends for our weekly needs.

Eric refuses to keep up with the balance of the checkbook which makes ME have to tell him what is in there when he wants to make a purchase.

I kinda hate it.

We work so very hard and I just don't wanna be the doom and gloom of spend thrift all the time.

Sometimes I want HIM to give me my allowance and let me skip off freely while he handles the cable bill. HMMPH

In the face.

"Wow, your pregnant!"

I stared at Eric in the mirror as I was getting ready for work. "What makes you think that?"

"It's the same way I could tell last time", he crowed.

I start visually checking all my fatty deposits, ie: boobs, butt, tummy.

"No, you don't look fat." "I can just tell it in your face."

I just stared at him (silently thinking about punch him in the face.

Eric in sitting on the merry go round, calling for me to join him.

There are so many reasons not to.

Maybe the decision has already been made.

Foo-Fighters

Fights suck.

Husband, parents, children, best friends or co-workers. After an altercation you usually want to make amends in someway. Maybe it's a cold beer after a few punches. An email from a friend after a stupid fight. A good old fashioned shag with your hubby after an intense scream fest over the size of your family (ahem).

Then there are the fights that offer no resolution. There is no point. You will never see exactly eye to eye. You will never truly be at peace with the other person and you know the fights, well, they just keep coming.

And to me a fight can sometimes be therapeutic. You throw it out there. You take the other's crap and after you mull it over you can sort through the bs and find a middle ground. You grow stronger. Because generally you care enough to fight it out. You care about getting through the issues-to the other side. These fights I can take. In fact they are NECESSARY.

It's the stinky poo-poo heads that you will never ever resolve anything with but have no choice but to try anyway because, like it or not, you will be saddle-bagged to one another for AT LEAST the next 8 years.

And you really don't care. But you do. Because of the little person that, someday, you hope will grow up to be a NON-douche that actually cares about someone other than themselves.

Fighting is with THEM is futile.

Throwing a flaming bag of dog poo on their porch? Not THAT may get us somewhere.

Ma and Pa Kettle

My office smells like a teenager's Ford Focus.

Bubble yum bubble gum- Watermelon.

We have one of those spray thingies that they put a different scent in every month and think the guy came Monday, but I have been so stuffy with sinus crap that I just smelled it today.

Well Monday I was supposed to take my monthly trip to CVS to get my bp pills and Eric was all, "Why don't you just not go get them."

"Ha Ha", Chuckle, Chuckle, "OK honey"

"No, I'm serious, Let's just let things happen."

I just kinda stared at him for a minute, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. We have already been through this once when Conner was SIX WEEKS OLD.

"Are you sure?"

I started all the usual (and important) reason why having a baby right now (even though I am aware it could take another FOUR years.)

Finances

Space

Time

And he was all "It will work out".

So I didn't go get them.

AND I HAVEN'T LET HIM TOUCH ME.

AHEM.

The truth is.

I don't want to be pregnant right now. I didn't know how I would feel at a year since it was so difficult getting Conner here. I love my baby. I am completely insanely smitten with both my off springs. IN THE FUTURE (I don't know how long), I am gonna probably want one more little darling to hopefully grace our home with more baby puke and boogers(hopefully pink ones), but right now I IS TIRED.

Eric works nights.

Which means that I work every night.

I have had FOUR solid nights sleep in the past year.

I am not complaining. Just stating facts.

Now he is all butt hurt that I wont just lie back and let him plant his seed.

I feel guilty because even when he was not sure about Conner, I was. I knew having him would be the best thing we had ever done. He finally got on board but not at first. Now he is trying to do the convincing and I am sticking my fingers in my ears. But I is MY body that has to Carry another baby so soon. My boobs that will be the babies sole source of nutrition for six months. My feet that will resemble water balloons for ten months.

I just need another six months.

Or year...

Sigh...but I think he is serious.

And I feel like a bully.

Fall is in the air.

I can taste it.

Feel it.

Maybe it is because we have had 110 degree days and today it is in the lower 80's, but I still think the season is a changin.

I love, love, love fall.

I love the light jackets and the changing of the leaves. I like to take hikes and bike rides.

I love the pumpkins and the fall vegetables.

I like the crisp air and the clean feeling deep in your lungs. The kind of days where you don't feel the need to shower by lunch time, even though all you did was walk to your car but you are dripping with sweat and you shoes are all sweaty and gross.

Summer.

I am soooo over you.

Bena-chill!

The baby and I were hit with crippling allergies yesterday(on E's first day of school) and we both look pit-e-ful.

I sneezed and cried my way through the day, and when I went to pick him put he looked miserable.

I am really weird about medicine. I am not against it per say I just really have to feel they need it before I will give them anything and I always like to get the pharmacist's take on whatever it is that I am going to be administering cause let's face it; that is what they went to school for and they usually know more about the drugs than the doctors.

The pharmacist is going over the specifics of the different allergy meds and we decided on the basic benadryl since this was Conner's first bout with allergies. Pharmacist was going over the side effects and of course I know in the back of my mind, benadryl= more rest for baby AND mommy. "This medication cause marked drowsiness in most infants, but there are a few that get pretty anxious and WOUND (THE FUCK*)UP.

That is the moment that the cruel unjust hand of fate leaned over and whispered into my ear, "JINX"

My child was on all fours headbanging for about two hours in my living room last night. He would not eat and not only would he not eat he would throw everything I gave him in the floor and laugh. He climbed. He pulled the cats tail. Head butted his brother and almost made him cry. OH OH OH and poked me repeatedly in my allergy ridden eyes saying "Eye, Eye".

Eric in full charge tonight. Eye am going to bed ASAP.

*My words, not his.