Saturday, August 8, 2009

All hoped up and nothing accomplished

I swear I had blog fodder. It's written in my datebook, on the pages of the calendar from about 2 weeks ago. I'd hoped to have it regurgitated to you by now. I may have lost the mo required to post it, but we'll see soon enough.
It's at that point I'm going to lose my ever loving mind. Near-end of this pregnancy. End of summer. School isn't in session yet. Resets are about to start at work. I don't know if my boss has someone to cover the stores I've asked to be taken out of as I reduce my workload before Thumper arrives. Devildog works this crazy stupidity-inducing shift. Kids are stir crazy. Devildog finds something to do away from home on every one of his days off because quite honestly even I don't want to be here. The house has vomited all over itself. Between a friend BL and Persnickety, Thumper will need for nothing, and be well dressed to boot. I mean I even have a big bag of shoes for Pete's sake.
I hoped to make progress with this mess of a shoebox before mid-August, so I could just focus on the next few weeks at work, and getting the kids ready for school. So like a full on ADD brain, I start hopping around from project to project and never finishing any of them. Start working in Clone's room, fizzle out because I want the crib assembled so I can put baby stuff in it to get it out of the way for now. Well...do we use Clone's Crib4Life, or do we take someone up on their offer to give us their crib they no longer need? Since I have this butt load of baby stuff, I need to sort it by size, wash it, and wait...
Where are we going to put the baby's clothes, because cardboard boxes just are not going to work even though I have TONS of them. I have this dresser I scored from the curb, and Clone staked her claim on it, down to the wood stain color she wanted, so Thumper can use the shorter longer dresser (which comes in very handy as a changing station with one of those contoured pad things on it. This was all her idea, so I'm just going to let her think that she came up with it first. I'd already been thinking about it but was trying to tread carefully for fear of catching Clone on a "Thumper-can-just-sleep-in-the-living-room-on-the-futon" kind of days. Anyway, Devildog tossed out the last spitfull of paint remover some time ago (against my better judgement) and I lack the proper scraping or sanding tools to get through 8 layers of paint still in the nooks and crannies of this dresser. I'm mangling woodwork at this point with a razor blade, but I also don't care anymore. I just need this crap done. I can't do this work in the house, it's too cramped and makes a huge mess with the Ryobi rotary tool (think "dremel"), and sandpaper, and scraping of paint. I have almost all of it done but this project was easier when it was still cold outside versus the "hades on your doorstep" temperatures we get in August. As soon as I can stain that dresser, it's getting done, come hell or high water (please Lord, not BROKEN water-yet at least..or contractions either).
I've pulled out more work for myself than I can manage in a short time, and at this point, I just don't care anymore. Except, I still need a place to put this human who likes to party under my ribcage at varying hours of the day and night - most notably 1 and 2 in the morning. Oh yes, and she has a penchant for giving me heartburn at the most *opportune* times too. She's gotta stay put a little longer though, and hopefully in the time I have left before she exits the oven, I can make a sizable dent in the mess. I can deal with laundry later. However, right now, I need to get the stuff my house puked on itself cleaned up without losing my mind. My August calendar is chock full of other things that are going to physically wear me out as it is.
I'm not even going to start on the eminent danger the computer is in of dying for lack of sufficient RAM (working on that), the annoyance of the children and Devildog's schedule, and the other family drama of sheer stupidity that is swirling around me. Nor will I whack my head on the brick wall that is Devildog refusing to even look at baby clothes because he just isn't ready. Can you see my eyeroll? It's so far back that I really can see what the kids are doing behind me. God love my husband, he's apparently STILL shocked some near 30 weeks later, despite the visible evidence of another human's presence inside my own.
So, all I've accomplished is a bigger mess, a lot of grand plans of marvelous theory, and annoying my ENTIRE household with my insane ADD nesting. This is nothing like I'd hoped it would be at this point in time. nothing.

Now...if you'll excuse me, I *KNOW* I saw a waiter somewhere around here with a tray of cheese. I saw some that would go wonderfully with my whine....

1 comment:

Persnickety Ticker said...

Just from your labels alone, I am thinking it might be a good idea not to piss you off any time soon.

Ah...so much for my afternoon session of poking the preggo-bear.