Parenting, Uncategorized

All hail the birthday boy!

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There is a slight look of panic on my face as I’m trying to mimic the cups smile, hoping that the rest of me will catch on. Be happy, be positive, be happy. Sometimes it’s hard to listen to your inner voice when the frustrations of your life consume your every thought. You can try to forget about that pile of laundry that needs folded and put away. You can try to forget that the house needs a decent scrub down before your son’s birthday tomorrow but it won’t dissapear.

His birthday party is tomorrow and I’m slightly dying inside. That means my day is going to be full of funt-astic things to do. First, I’m going to work from 10-5, then I’m going to come home (now this is just an estimate) to a house that looks well lived in. My husband will have only done the bare minimum because he can’t handle two children, leaving me the rest while trying to make dinner in the process. I will fly through the list, trying to do all things at one time, resulting in me stressing out even more. I’ll be worried that I won’t get it done in time, that I’ll forget to do something and someone might see a speck of dust on the entertainment stand, heaven forbid. I will take my frustration out on my husband, telling him that he needs to help out more. He will either walk away and try to ignore me, or he will argue back, resulting in a fight that isn’t necessary.

Tomorrow, I will be freaking out. I will be wondering what I forgot to do, running around the place like a crazy person, tearing out my hair because I forgot to buy paper plates and plastic forks. Everything will be procrastinated, and we will end up having a four hour party rather than just a two hour like we planned. I will be crazy until the party ends and then I’ll be back on the crazy train trying to clean up after people. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

I’m not going to lie. I’ve always hated parties since I was a kid. I don’t like mingling, or small talk and I hate hosting parties because I’m a perfectionist and when something doesn’t go right, I have a panic attack. I’ve been told on multiple occasions that I have a problem and I’m the first to admit that I do.

I’ll be crossing my fingers hoping that my child doesn’t get cake all over my newly washed floor.

Parenting, Uncategorized

Nerves

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I am 2 days away from my due date, and even though I was hoping she would come early, it seems she is keeping herself occupied in my uterus by cramming herself against everything she possibly can. Besides being uncomfortable in every position known to man (both while awake and sleeping), these braxton hicks are killing me. As long as I am moving during the day, they aren’t so bad. It’s when I toss around at night and wake up to pee for the third time that its unbearable. Don’t get me started on  what it feels like rolling out of bed in the morning. Within these last few weeks, it’s been harder and harder running after my energizer bunny for a toddler, and especially harder trying to keep up with the housework. Bless my husband and his wonderful heart, but he has no initiative to help after coming home from work. Don’t get me wrong, he does a few things that have helped out, like taking over for dinner and doing the dishes (I still have yet to get him to put away the laundry for me), but what he does do helps, even if it’s only a little. Point being, I am ready to have this baby, and I’m ready to have it now.

Now, to the point of the title of my post, nerves. Mine are on edge, and I know my husbands are. I thought that after already having a baby I would get used to the idea of being a parent to another child. But then I realized that with every child comes different worries. With my first child, I worried whether or not I was going to fail as a parent. With this one, I’m worried about how my son will take to her, and how I plan on getting a schedule down for both of them.

Fingers crossed that she comes soon.