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As I’m typing this, I’m having a contraction.  BUT, it’s not one of those, “OH MY GAWD I’M IN LABOR” contractions.  It’s just something to remind me that I have absolutely no fucking control over this pregnancy whatsoever.

Last night I woke up thinking, “Damn, that hurt!” and I promptly went back to sleep.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…and probably a lot.  I never had contractions with Cara before I was induced.  I never wondered if I was going to make it to my “due date”.  Hell, once I passed my due date without a single twinge, I just figured I’d stay pregnant permanently.

This was me at around 15:30 today.  I was not happy.  Can you tell?

I used to look like this:

I liked this hair cut.  It made me feel pretty and thin and like I looked LIKE A FUCKING GIRL.

I’ll try and keep the story short.

I got my hair cut like a month and a half ago like it is in the second picture.  I liked it; I liked the chick who cut it.  But, my mom convinced me that I should try the chick who cuts Mom’s hair.  “You’ll LOVE her.”

I am awake.  I have been awake since 5 am.

Cara is awake.  Cara has been awake since 5 am.

Do you see a correlation here?

Not only did she wake up but I could here her bouncing in her crib and couldn’t help but hear the earsplitting screams.  [Cara, is the screaming REALLY necessary?!]

The most maddening part about the screaming is that it’s not a pissed off scream or a sad scream.  It’s just a damn loud scream to let me know that she’s ready to get up.

Blah.

Yesterday was one of those days where I felt like an absolute asshole.

I woke up at 3:45 because of an extremely screwed up nightmare involving my ex-stepfather’s house [again] and a very creepy ghost cloud thing.  It took me until 5 am to calm down enough to go back to sleep.

I managed to forget my OB appointment that was scheduled for Monday and had to reschedule the thing for Tuesday at 9:45.  That meant that we all had to get up in time to drop Cara off at Mom’s and then book it to the doctor’s office. Once we were done at the OB’s office, we had to haul ass home so that I could call in for an interview deal with these people:

The enormity of what we’re about to undertake is about to drive me crazy.

This kid’s due to be born sometime in September and I just can’t seem to get my head around that fact.  I look at our place and the absolute lack of any baby stuff.  I keep getting bogged down with all of the details and logistics of having a newborn along with a toddler.

I keep going from utter elation one minute to total despair and gut wrenching fear.

I have been relatively sane for a while now.

I attribute this temporary sanity to the fact that I’m pregnant and pregnancy seems to agree with my brain.

Sure, I’ve been a tad more angry than I normally would be but it’s not like I’m constantly pissed off [just on Fridays from now on].

But the crazy train pulled into the station today.

For the past few days I’ve been angrier than normal and extra-emotional.  Then, this morning at the ass crack of dawn, our new next door neighbors woke Cara up with their alcohol assisted noise.  It was 3am, they were outside and I could hear every word of their conversation via Cara’s baby monitor.  She heard them too and was up from 3am till sometime around 5am.

Am I a sellout or “money grubbing whore” because I run adds on my site?

WIkipedia defines sellout like this:

“Selling out refers to the compromising of one’s integrity, morality and principles in exchange for money, ’success’ or other personal gain. It is commonly associated with attempts to increase mass appeal or acceptability to mainstream society. A person who does this, as opposed to following the original path s/he laid (or claimed to lay) out for him/herself, is labeled a sellout and regarded with disgust and immediate loss of respect. Selling out is seen as gaining success at the cost of credibility.”

Oh my Jesus it’s been one of those days!

My OB appointment was uneventful as expected.  My weight hasn’t changed since three weeks ago which prompted my OB to finally measure my fundal height [Why does that sound dirty to me?] and lo and behold I’m measuring just fine - 1 week ahead to be moderately exact.  No growth restriction here.

We were in there for 25 minutes from the time we pulled into a parking space till the time that we backed out of said space.  The majority of the time was spent with blood pressure, weight, urine and fetal heart rate.  I saw my OB for literally five minutes.  It’s not like I want to roast marshmallows or anything but am I the only one who finds five minutes a bit quick?

This is a chigger.

I have not named him/her because I wish it dead.

We went to the river this weekend to celebrate the 4th and had a purty darn good time.

Back to the chiggers.

Do you Northern people have chiggers?  I Twittered my disdain for the little arthropods and some people didn’t know what I was talking about.  Said people must not have ever visited Arkansas.

The itching started Saturday night when Tucker pulled a couple of seed ticks off of me.  I figured I was just itching due to the general ickiness of having been a tick’s dinner but before long I was covered with angry red bumps.  They look like hives but weep.  How’s that for gross?

Well, I broke my blog.

A little over a year of content has officially been lost. There’s nothing I can do about it except move on. I might go over to my Blogger blog to see if I can migrate some of that really old stuff over here but it may just not be worth the effort. I am a study in WHY YOU SHOULD BACKUP YOUR BLOG!!! As a matter of fact, quit reading this and go backup you blog right now. NOW! There isn’t anything to read here to get to backing up and stuff.