May 12, 2009

So Freaking Tired

After a week of being sick, waking up ten times each night to pee or get a glass of water, waking up several mornings a week at 5 a.m. for no good reason, being wife and mom and trying to keep this damn house clean, I am freaking exhausted.

I cannot keep my eyelids open these days.  I’m constantly thinking about when I’ll be able to get some much needed rest.  I nap almost every day.

I’m just so tired.  I want to blame it all on pregnancy, but I’m not sure that’s the only culprit.

I had my 16 week prenatal appointment today.  Baby’s heartbeat is in the 150s, I’m measuring accurately for my gestation, and I’ve managed to keep my weight in the acceptable range.  I’ll be having an ultrasound in two weeks.

Not much else to report.  Seriously.  I’m just too tired to think.  Is this normal?  I mean, I thought my energy was supposed to come back in the second trimester.

All you soon-to-be mamas out there, are you experiencing this, too?

May 9, 2009

Power Struggle

Today is the first Saturday in which I have nothing planned.  No errands to run, no weekend obligations, no appointments or family visits.  It’s the first Saturday that I can spend at home doing whatever I want.

As I try to do just that, I realize the house is out of order again.  It’s nagging me.

• Dawson has toys scattered across the living room floor and I’m trying to fight the urge to pick them up.
• The mail is piled up on the side table, waiting for me to sort through it.
• My craft corner is so disorganized and it’s driving me crazy.
• Dawson’s room looks like the aftermath of a tornado.
• My bathroom counter is cluttered with cosmetics and hair products (which I’m not using because I’m too tired to care what I look like these days.  Sad but true.)
• The kitchen is actually clean, but dishes are still in the drying rack waiting to be put away.

Last Saturday I spent the day in a cleaning frenzy, but it was all in vain.  I came down with a nasty virus the next day and did not have the energy to maintain the house.

But you know what really ticks me off?  The fact that my husband didn’t even bother to step in while I was on my death bed.  (Okay, I’m being dramatic.  I know.)

I just don’t understand why it’s so hard for him to actually help me.  Sure, he’ll do dishes and laundry,  but he never puts the stuff away.  It’s so half-assed.

When he gets home from work he does what he wants to do.  Lawn care, gardening, puttering in the garage, whatever  — and I don’t complain.  But when I ask for help he gets bent out of shape.  Sometimes I think he thinks that because he works outside the home he shouldn’t have to do anything else.

This is total crap.  While he’s doing his stuff, I’m the one parenting Dawson and trying to get housework done at the same time.  This is like building a house during a tornado.  It cannot be done.  Dawson can be very demanding.  He’s an only child right now, and he’s gotten his parents’ undivided attention all his life.  I can distract him for short periods of time, but when he’s bored he lets me know.

To be honest, I feel like my husband and I are in the middle of a power struggle; each one of us is trying to be in control.  We’re not working together.  We’re both very stubborn, too.

It shouldn’t be so hard to communicate and cooperate.  It should be easy to just hash it out and come up with a plan to get stuff done.  But, why do I feel like I’m the only one willing to change? Why do I feel like the this burden will forever be on my shoulders?  Why do I feel like my husband just doesn’t get it?  Why do I feel like he doesn’t appreciate all that I do?

Knowing myself too well, I’ll start cleaning like crazy.  I’ll be crabby and resentful the rest of the weekend.  Knowing my husband, he won’t understand why I’m mad.  And I won’t tell him because I hate confrontation.  We’ll continue this power struggle until the end of time.

Should I just suck it up and do what needs to be done?  What would you do?

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May 5, 2009

Cinco de Mayo

Actually, it’s more like Sicko de Mayo ’round these parts.

I’ve been sick with a horrible cold since Sunday night.  I don’t know if being pregnant compounds the cold symptoms by ten thousand, but holy crap do I feel rotten.

My hard work on Saturday left me sniffling, sneezing and hacking by dinnertime on Sunday.  When I woke up Monday morning with head and body aches, I begged my husband to put me out of my misery.  He quickly escaped to work.

I didn’t catch this bug from Dawson (surprisingly) — my husband was the culprit (so he should be catering to my every need, right?).  He just got over his cold and WHAM!  I got it.  I always do.  Whatever the men in this house come down with, I’m pretty much guaranteed to get it soon after. And frankly, I’m flippin’ sick of it.  I mean, I just had a cold in February.  I thought I was done for at least nine months.  UGH.

I felt like crap for most of today, and then suddenly I regained the ability to breathe through BOTH nostrils.  Alleluia! It’s a miracle.  Now, if only the aches and pains would disappear, I’d be on the smooth road to recovery.

So, on this day, the Fifth of May, I thought I could convince Doug to make fajitas in honor of Mexican army’s unlikely victory over French forces at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862.  Okay, I was craving them.  He didn’t give in to my persuasions.  Instead, he lectured me about sodium and doctor’s orders and blah de la blah.  It was worth a try, right?   My husband a healthy dinner of grilled chicken, long grain rice and sweet corn.  Didn’t cure my food craving but it was delish just the same.

And now, I’m abruptly ending this random post because I just realized how tired and crabby I am.  Being sick is total suckage.

May 3, 2009

Sunday, Already?

This weekend is going by too fast.  Probably because I’ve been busy.

True to my word, I spent Saturday cleaning the house.  My father was picking up Dawson after he finished work and the plan was that my son would spend the night so I could get a much needed parenting break as well as finish all the stuff I’ve been putting off these last few days weeks months.

Before I tackled the chores, Dawson and I squeezed in some last minute Mommy-Son Time and went to a few rummage sales in town.  We found a couple things for Dawson, and I bought a used jogging stroller for $8.  The lady wanted $15, but I pulled the classic, “I don’t have enough cash, will you take a down payment and I’ll be back with the rest?”  I handed over my five dollar bill and three singles, and she told me to just take it.  She didn’t think she’d get the full $15 anyway.  I don’t consider myself a runner, it’s been years since I went jogging, but I know that once Baby #2 arrives, I’m going to want to shed the baby weight as quickly as possible.  My friend L. has volunteered to be my trainer.  I’m all for it.

After a few hours of bargain hunting we went home, I packed Dawson’s bag and my dad arrived promptly at 11:00 A.M.  I couldn’t get Dawson out the door fast enough.  After twenty kisses and hugs I was free to tackle my closet.

I hadn’t cleaned my closet in at least five years.  There were clothes in there that I was hanging onto because I swore I’d squeeze back into them eventually.  I grabbed the largest cardboard box I could find and started tossing things inside.  Some pieces I just couldn’t part with, mostly because there were fond memories attached to those clothes.  I saved the jeans I wore on my first date with Doug, among other favorites.  I’m sure I’ll get rid of them someday, I just wasn’t ready to do so yesterday.

When the box was full, I began folding the stuff neatly and putting them in smaller boxes (the big one wouldn’t fit in my car).  Then I moved on to Dawson’s room and the spare bedroom, and ended up with 13 boxes of clothes, toys and other items.  I thought about holding a rummage sale, but it seemed so much easier to load up Doug’s SUV and dump it all off at Goodwill.  So, that’s what I did.

It was a workout to drag the heavy boxes down the stairs and out to the car (Doug was working, so no help there…) but once the nice stock clerk at Goodwill unloaded it all from the car, I instantly felt lighter (ha ha).  When I got back home I was shocked at how much closet space we had.  Doug made me promise not to fill it back up with maternity clothes, which I’ve yet to purchase because surprisingly I can still fit into my current wardrobe.  I’m almost four months pregnant and I remember with Dawson I was wearing maternity at almost three months.  This is why I think I’m having a girl.  I’m not gaining as much weight as I did the first time around.  (On that note, my doctor has limited weight gain to 15 pounds due to my pre-pregnancy weight being on the heavier side.  Wow, was that hard to admit.  I’ve only gained 4 pounds so far!)

So, after the donation drop-off I vacuumed, washed windows, dusted, cleaned up the living room, recycled old magazines, cleaned my kitchen (which is now a mess because Doug is making homemade beef jerky, and ooh boy does it stink in there…) and did a load of laundry.

When I finally laid down on the newly made bed (of which I bought new pillows, fluffy pillows!) I fell asleep within minutes.  I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but at 5:30 I woke to the sound of “Hi, Mommy!”  Dawson was home.  He said he couldn’t stay at Papa’s because he missed me and he didn’t want me to cry while he was gone.  I tried to get out of bed but my back hurt so badly I couldn’t move.  My brother had to help me up.  It was rather embarrassing.

The rest of the night was lazy.  I played with Dawson (while laying on the floor), made a delicious spaghetti (because Doug promised to do dishes) and then watched some television.  And then I fell asleep again.  My nose was so stuffy, probably from dusting every nook and cranny in this house, and I woke at least five times to either pee or blow my nose.  As tired as I was, I sure feel great that I got so much done.

This morning we went to church, to the grocery store and then to Fleet Farm to get some plants for our garden.  I fell in love with a beautiful Wandering Jew plant (also sometimes called an Inch Plant) and had to have it.  I had one that I grew in high school in my greenhouse class, but after I moved out of the house for college, my mother somehow killed it.  This plant has purple, silver  and green leaves.  It’s gorgeous.  I’ll take a picture of it soon.

In a few moments we’re going for a family walk.  The weather is gorgeous.  It’d be a shame not to enjoy it.

What are you up to this fine Sunday?