I'm pregnant!... it might rain.

It seems as though, or at least this is my experience, that no one really cares about the third pregnancy. In my family anyway.

It may just be me, being silly or sensitive which isn't too far off but I'm usually pretty straight. But today I am bothered to no end, that not one person has told me "congratulations". No one has said, "ya! a baby!!" No one has asked my son if he's excited or told Elvis she will be a big sister. It is as if no one knows, but I'm going with, no one cares.

It's weird because I could not be more excited and yet, I find it hard to share my joy because if I mention it, the moment passes and not a word from anyone. I will say, "oh man, my pants are so tight" and then someone will talk about the weather. I will mention that I am exhausted and what a drag it is and then people will just carryon their conversation. 

I don't get it. I am baffled and I am never baffled by anything but this has got me all wrapped up with a question mark.

Day 2.

Day 1 was such a blur. I started to write about it last night and somehow just fell asleep. Laptop still on my bed in the morning.

We left for our 4 state road trip at about 3 p.m. The morning and then afternoon was chalk full of last minute details, total fuck ups and lots of running around. It was exhausting. I'm still exhausted and we are merely half way there.

Todays drive was better in some ways and totally worse in others. For one the weather didn't suck like it did on Wednesday. When we left, we left soaking wet. As in there were sheets of sideways rain while we packed up the car and repacked. It's a van, I am not use to all the space, so once we all got in, we then figured out how to make it all work.

But today I was driving and the car ahead of me took a hard left at about 75 mph and flew over the median, across oncoming traffic (I5 N) up a hill and then... off a cliff. I don't think it was a huge cliff but I'm almost certain I saw someone die. I still feel sick. I feel lucky and extra protective and so today I drove slow and thought about how quick shit happens. 

I pulled over and called 911. I gave them the mile marker and told them I couldn't stay. There was a man in a car behind me that stopped as well. He ran across 4 lanes of traffic to go help. I was glad he was there because if he wasn't, I probably would've done that, it's just a part of me to help, sometimes I wish it wasn't. But instead I got to drive away with my life still in tact and my mind not completely blown. I hope everyone was okay in that car. 

I've got to go to bed. That was hours ago and it is still weighing on me and I need to shake it before I fall asleep. 

Holiday movies

This is a big thing in my house. Probably yours too, although I do know that some people are not holiday people... which I find sad really, but anyway. 

We are big holiday movie, holiday traditions in general are huge over here. It's hard not to get into the spirit when you have kids but we started before we had them.

I remember my first Thanksgiving with Eddie. We were living at Middlefingerton, with Marky from Zeke, our great friends Peter and Dan Thunder Bolton. What a crew, huh?

We had the house to ourselves. I made a somewhat crappy dinner and we sat at the coffee table and watched "Planes, Trains and Automobiles". I will have you know, we watch this every year, it was our first tradition. 

Our Christmas is pretty low key. We don't invite anyone over, we don't have a big party or have dinner with extended family, Christmas is when we huddle. We turn off the phones and just enjoy being together. Christmas is my favorite day of the year. Not my favorite holiday but it is the only day we are completely together, thankful and... together.

Thanksgiving is probably my favorite holiday, I mean, after Halloween. Thanksgiving lets me be completely in my element and that is the kitchen. I am a cook. I am a kick ass cook and Tday, I take very seriously.

When we have stayed home, in the past, we invite people over on some years and some years it is just us. A few it was just Q and I and that will never happen again. It's in the "contract", the one husband and wife have, not the paper kind that you sign when you are married, the "contract" is the list of things you accumulate over the years. The "no-no's" the "must have's" and the "have nots". It is a "no-no" for him to miss Tday. Simple. It will never happen (again).

I'm a counting the days before I get to see him, more so than usual. I guess because it is holiday time and I am missing him like crazy and also, I really want to see him with the kids. 7 weeks when you are 2 is like a lifetime. She is so different. Quattro is 10 and he seems different too. Kids grow fast... that is something people tell you before you have them and you just don't really get it. Until, you get it.

It's so damn true.

Chillin' with Elvis.

Today I had lunch with my daughter. We went to this great Vietnamese place called Monkey Bridge, right here in my hood, Ballard.

It was one of those lunches that you will remember. Forever. If you are a Mom, you know that type. I was sitting across from her and just watched as she fought to use her chop sticks. I just smiled and laughed as she chewed out her shrimp from her fresh roll, then picked out all the bean sprouts- every bit her father's daughter. 

I noticed others watching her too, I love that. When they get to see a child happy and tear free in a restaurant. I mean, there are plenty of times when she is screaming her face off (in which, we leave) but today seemed somewhat perfect. Aside from the 3 trips to the bathroom (potty training in full force), it was absolutely fantastic, although the bathroom breaks didn't really take anything away from it, other than the heat from my lemongrass beef noodle bowl.

I really cherish these moments, just like when my son was 2. Although my life was different then, I am still very much the same Mother. I parent the same. I don't have more or less patients, I don't know more or less about the job. It's strange, a lot of people I talk to say they are better parents now, after the first one but for me I really think it was a switch. I'm not sure if it was when I got pregnant or when I first saw his face, on 12.21.00- I was this person.

I mean, I have learned a lot, I know more about life but the Motherly things, totally the same.

I intend to always feel this way. Some days I am at my absolute worst, but some days, I feel as though I could never get any better. I know, in truth, neither of those are true. I will never be a bad Mother and I will always be able to be better. That's a comforting thought. I am going to enjoy that for a minute, because you know, this may come as a surprise, but I am making all this shit up as I go along! Ha! I mean, really, I am just making it up, but it is always the truth.

Thank you again, all my faithful readers. I feel like I can spread a bit of punch you in the gut, slap your ass and spit in your face news. I am pregnant! Yep. We are adding our third, and final, Daly installment in early June. 

Holy shit!

I am always so surprised when I come back to this blog (after neglecting it) and see that people are reading it. It makes me feel so happy, it's weird and self indulgent and maybe narcissism at it's best...  but, who am I to judge myself? Huh? To be honest I have very few moments of self indulgence. I don't know if it's the kids or my husband being vain enough for the state of Washington, but as I get older (hey.. did I just say that?) I realize that those of us who aren't prone to being full of ourselves need to be. Simple as that. 

As a child/teenager, my sister would tell me (and everyone) I was full of myself. She thought this way about me for whatever reasons, they are hers and I'm not going to try and guess them- but it was exactly the opposite of the case. I guess it was hard to see who I really was (who knows who anyone really is when they a child, teen or twenty something?) I was a cheerleader and that right there makes everyone judge. Which is so wrong, those years were not exactly my finest moments, but it was a "sport" that kept me with the right crowd and some great friends by day, so I could go off and be a complete delinquent youth, by night. I led a double life, I was a real hot mess.

Anyway, not to get sidetracked by my childhood that somewhat resembled the movie "Thirteen". Although when I saw it I was completely sad to think it was so similar to my story, there were parts of mine that were so much worse. It's not a competition. My story, like everyone else's makes me who I am today and apparently that is a blog writer!

I'd like to thank my readers. I hope you pass it on. I would like it to eventually all be for something, whether it be when my kids are grown, they read about who I am (was) or maybe I will get published and write a book? Who knows, stranger fucking things have happened. 

I am just glad to be writing about myself and my life and my experiences. There are so many blogs and the like that are written by people who are writing about someone else's world, someone else's life. That's not the case here people. I think we can all agree.

Fine. Missin' you. WTF. Breathe.

I can do this. 

It has officially been long enough since Eddie has been home, that I feel like I can do it. I go through phases, the "it's fine" phase is always first. He leaves and I just wave good bye and immediately start going about my business. The work load is huge but I'm not yet affected.

Then I start missing him. The night I climb into bed and it's not all about sleeping in the middle. I kinda wish he was there, even if he steals covers and snores. Even though he wears the same shirt to bed that he wore all day, I suddenly want to smell his shirt.

After a few days of missing him I start to get pissed. I'm tired from having to do everything and the kids usually get sick (ahem... always) and I am just mad. I stop talking to him on the phone for a few days, everything he says is annoying. I don't miss his smelly shirt, I just glare at the pile of laundry he left in his closet (because no, I still have not washed it).

And then one day (today) I feel like I can breathe.

The house isn't in too bad of shape. My kids are happy and I'm busy but it doesn't seem as overwhelming as on the "WTF" stage because I have a rhythm. Finally. 

This is when he usually comes home and fucks everything up, it's awesome but it is like walking over to my stack of dominos lined up throughout the house, and just touching one... you know they are all going to fall over and I know it must be done.

This time he is not coming home. This tour in going to go on until the end of Feb and it sucks that it must be so long but we are really thankful that it is. Rock 'n roll is like anything else, you have to work while you can and even though he can't be here for Halloween, we will be together for Thanksgiving, which is my favorite holiday, to be with my family is so incredibly insane, it is nonstop, tons of food, people, craziness. I love it.

I've got to get back to the Halloween costumes. 

Throwing in the towel

Do you ever want to just quit? Like, literally, walk out the door and just say "that's it! I'm done!".
Man, I do.
Today that was me. And a little of yesterday too.
I am so tired and spread too thin. My own fault, I guess I just want to do too much and I feel like cutting anything out will make something else totally fucked up... so I try to do it all and guess what?
I can't.
Ugh. I hate that almost more than I hate the being fed up part.
Sometimes I just want my husband to come home and go to work in the morning and come back in the evening. Just like everyone else. People thing the rock n' roll is so easy, but it's not. It is SO not.
I'm starring down the barrel of 5 (more) weeks before I get to spend 7 days with him and then he's off again for another month, home for a week then gone again... I'm bitching. I realize it could be worse, but this is my blog.
I was listening to " The Incredibles" when the scene where the Mom is at the dinner table with the kids who are going ape shit and she is yelling for the Dad to come "intervene!". I need to do that right now. I needed that today, to yell out for my husband to come and help. But he is in Florida, trying not to get eaten by alligators or whatever it is that you do in Florida... I needed a back-up and I don't have it. Sucks.
What is one to do? Sit in a dark corner and regroup... I guess, I mean, that is the only thing to do.
I ordered take out, it was so salty we could barely eat it... I should have just made dinner.
I worked for a while in Q's costume... now the kitchen is covered with green fur...
I let E have a popsicle because she hasn't eaten in 4 days because she is getting over something and now there's a trail of sticky pink shit all over the floor.
I ran a bath for myself and then started doing some school work... now my bath is cold.
I'm having a bad day and that is allowed. I guess that is the real lesson I can learn. As long as I know it's just a day (or a week, tops), I will get through it.
And no, I won't get to make dinner every night and holler at my husband to come intervene when things get wild, but that is okay too. When he is home he is completely home. He is loved whether he is here or there and sometimes I love him more when he's gone, because I feel invincible because I have to do this all on my own. That is a good feeling, however hard it is on these days, this is it. This is it. This is the ride I chose and I do believe I chose wisely.
Good night cruel world. If you hand me a pair of deuces tomorrow, you can go f' yourself.