Somehow, it is so hard for me to do things when BB is home...I don't know what it is about his being around that makes me just want to sit and do a whole lot of nothing.
Maybe it is that when he is home, he commandeers the family room, the TV, the office, the kitchen...he leaves his things sort of strewn throughout the house, dishes, work things, clothing, trash...a trail of detritus follows his path, and it just sort of makes me say to myself "why bother following him around and cleaning up? It'll just continue throughout his duration at home."
Now, I know that I'd much rather have that trail of stuff to pick up at the end of the weekend, or his sick days or holidays, than to not have him around to clean up after. And by that, I mean, it's a matter of perspective. He could be spending his free time at a bar, club, gym, fishing, or not even be in my life because we're divorced, or he's dead. Morbid? Not at all. Realistic.
That being said, after 10 days of this attitude of "I'm dying, so I'm going to do nothing but ask for drink refills, food, and yell at the kids for blinking wrong", I'm seriously ready to tear out my hair. He worked in the office 2 half-days this week. They happened to be at the time of day when I was taking Captain to school and attending either a memorial service, or my Moms' group.
I have had no alone time whatsoever this week. I am hideously out of sync with a routine that was actually working for. I have at least 10 loads of laundry to do tomorrow, and they will get done tomorrow. I have ironing, bread to bake, a house to dust, scrub and disinfect.
On top of the normal things I do each week, I have the special project of taking an inventory of my freezer so I can plan meals, I still need to finish cleaning out and organizing the nursery, the basement space where my MK office is, and prepping some things for my "post-delivery vacation" (seriously, when is it vacation to be forced to NOT do anything?!?!?!), so that BB will know where all things related to the children are...I'm not looking forward to the recuperation period, as BB gets only 4 weeks. I know that's a lot, but if I'm not allowed to drive for 6 weeks, it means that I'll essentially be housebound for 2 weeks. I don't mind choosing to stay in of my own accord, but to be told that I can't do something or go somewhere is going to be tough.
We're definitely scheduled for St. Patrick's Day, which is going to be odd if we make it that long. BB's family is of Scottish descent, and my own is Italian and Irish Protestant. My Great-grandfather came from a long line of Orangemen. We don't celebrate St. Patrick's Day in the same sense as everyone else...so for anyone interested in sending a gift, or a cute email about my leprechaun baby, DON'T.
We wear ORANGE. We don't celebrate a man who was more legend than fact, and who was sainted by a group of men who deem themselves able to know who was God-like in their life on earth.
I'm not trying to offend anyone who is Catholic...it just irks me that everyone assumes that if you're Irish, you must love all things St. Patrick's Day.
At any rate, I must take my OB/GYN-approved cough medicine and close up shop...
OH YEAH!...Please continue praying for us...BB and I discovered our finances are much worse than we thought they were. That sounds bad, but it was more a matter of the exact dollar amount being a bit more than we thought...so pray that we can find a solution that doesn't include my having to return to work, or us selling our home and moving somewhere smaller and cheaper.