Well I've officially hit that moment in my pregnancy - I am done, I'm ready for labor and delivery and to have this baby already. I've become a crazy hormonal pregnant whale (at least I feel like a whale). My poor husband goes to the fire house to drop off a certificate to a student he taught and I get all wigged out and think the worst. When he's at work I worry about it - I don't know why I am so crazy but I am. I log onto My Space and check out his profile (not that either of us have anything to hide) but just seeing what new stuff he's done and think "maybe he's cheating", all his friends I know except one and she's in a local band - one he probably went to see before we had kids, were married and lived together.
Our poor daughter is a typical 2 year old, active and defiant (but just lately) and I feel like I'm going to lose my mind dealing with her in the evenings. I feel that I spend a good portion of the evening yelling at her to get out of something because when I ask her to get out of what she's in she looks at me like I have 3 different faces.
And don't get me started on the dog - I love her to pieces but I can't stand half the stuff she's doing lately. Granted she's 11 months old but come on - do we need to stand at the back door and bark non-stop even after the door is opened? I correct her repeatedly when she gets into something that she's not supposed to be in or when she decides she wants to stand up to the kitchen table or sink/counter. How many times must I repeat myself in this house!!! I feel like half of my talking at home is a repeat of something I've already said.
This morning the dog had a vet appointment to get her staples removed (she was spayed 2 weeks ago) and when my husband left for the vets office I got this panicked feeling - how am I supposed to get the kid and myself ready and out the door by 7:45am? I felt completely lost without him here this morning.
So here it is after 11:00pm and I'm blogging because my daughter wants to fight me going to bed and I can only ask her so many times to get up and lay down before I blow a gasket and it turns into me yelling at her to get up and lay down. I hate that I can't just ask her something anymore and her do it - its like I have to yell at her and threaten with a time-out, no cookies (or some sweet), no going to Nanny's, no ice cream from the ice cream parlor down the road.
Once again I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes (for different reasons this time) because I'm the "mean mom" for correcting her and then I have this rock feeling in the pit of my stomach because "other mom's are better at this than I am". Geesh I know 19 year olds that have more patients with their children than I have with my 2 1/2 year old (and I'm more than 19). Maybe after evertything calms down after the birth my daughter will go back to being the sweet loving beautiful little girl that she normally is - unless of course I've scared her for life with my uncontroable ranting moments of hormonal craziness.
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