Monday, May 9, 2011

Warning: This is extremely bitchy and you should probably not read it.

This weekend blew. Well, let me correct that…HALF of this weekend blew. A friend of mine offered to do pregnancy pictures for me and at first I refused because I am ridiculously vain and honestly am not terribly comfortable in this new body but then I agreed and ended up having a wonderful time, so THAT was the good part. We then went to a cookout with friends and had a great time as well, up until I decided the day had been long enough and my feet were large enough while my husband decided that beer tastes like heaven and forgot to give a crap about hugely pregnant wife in 80 degree weather. So I left him there. I went home and showered off the hours of sweat and ran to the store to get puppy treats and then made the puppy dinner (he is on a special diet) which he was 2 ½ hours overdue for. I text the husband to offer to come get him but he decided he would stay and find his own way home about 2 hours later. I am sure the women out there can see the issue as the next morning was Mother’s Day. Husband came home and went straight to bed and then commenced snoring so loud that I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. I honestly would have smothered him if I hadn’t decided to just go downstairs to try to sleep on the couch. (Pregnancy tip: It is impossible to get comfortable on a couch at 7 months pregnant. Do not even attempt.) I did manage to catch up on my DVR’d soaps and last weeks One Tree Hill so that was nice and just as I managed to fall asleep Husband decided to come downstairs in his stupor to get some Advil (hangovers are a bitch, eh?) turning on lights and waking me up AGAIN. So after less than 3 hours of sleep I finally hauled my butt up and decided to just shower and take the puppy out to my mom’s house to give her her card and LO AND BEHOLD, who is magically awake and asking me where I am going? Husband. Oh goody. I informed him I was going to my mothers and he should attempt to remember to do the same while I am gone. (this will figure back into the story later.) I then leave after biting my tongue when he asked if I wanted to do anything for Mothers day when I got back. (My mind had a lot to say on this one...”I had assumed that being hung over and ignoring me was how you had planned to spend my first mother’s day” or “oh I am so sorry, I forgot to make plans to celebrate for you. How about you just go back to sleep and I will think of something?”) but I just mentioned that I was surprised he knew it was mother’s day and walked out. Puppy and I went to my mom’s and had a nice sit outside and talked and then I headed receive a card (sweet card, perhaps something hand written inside would have worked though, huh?) and some hydrangeas from the “holy shit, I am stupid and need to fix this with my wife pronto” last minute selection at the grocery store and the promise of a spa day after the wee one makes her arrival. Sure. I will put that on my calendar. He also asked if I would like to put my microwaved leftovers away and get brunch (a hint I had less than subtly dropped about a week earlier.) I figured that belonged in the “Too late” category and ate the leftovers and went up for a nap, exhausted from 3 hours of sleep and rage, and woke to an empty house at dinner time. Huh. No note to be found but the absence of the fern he buys his mother every year led me to believe he had taken his mother’s day present to her for dinner time as they were planning on cooking out. Awesome. Dinner will now be coming from the microwave again. Sweet. I cleaned the house, fed the puppy dinner and arranged some laundry while he was having (what I assume to be a lovely and pre-planned) Mother’s Day with his family. He offered to make me whatever I wanted upon his return and by that point cooking would have taken us into the evening news so a steamed veggie pouch in sauce and a couple of pop tarts were dinner. (Pregnancy tip: blueberry pop tarts will kind of taste like pie if you concentrate real hard.)

At this point I would like to explain exactly why I was upset. I am getting a lovely present that we had ordered together last week (a beautiful custom baby memories book from Etsy) This isn’t about a present. In fact, at this stage I would like to spend as little money as possible. I am upset at the lack of forethought and courtesy on what I had hoped would be a wonderful day that I could remember as my first mother’s day with my husband and pup and the little gymnast in my tummy. What I got was some last minute flowers and a card and a day full of silence and pouting because I was mad at him. Pregnancy hormones are not to be fucked with and I simply do not have the necessary skills to stop being angry about this. I have tried various tried and true ways to get over it such as crying it out, and screaming to music in my car. Nothing is working. I guess time will tell…

I apologize for such an angry hormonal post so I will now make it up to you with a picture of a cuddly animal. Here you go.

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