The little [BIG] woman

It has been a trying few weeks. I had my run in with a very helpful coworker. This in the context of a server crash I got word of at 6:45am on a Monday. Do you know how hard it is to deny library service to 50,000 young minds before 7am while dragging an "I don't like Mondays" toddler out the door? Messy. On this score I am soundly, roundly, grateful to the kind commenters of this here site. I believe you might have all saved the life of one ignorant misogynist who is so not worth my time.

On to the roundnesss. I have had a week wherein I must face the facts of my girth and put away 97% of my standard wardrobe. I am definitely gettting past it on the 'big clothes' even and it is maternity wear time. Even though everything in that department is still technically too big. My daily wardrobe choice either entails a button, zipper or hook that digs into my side with every step or spin of the office chair... or I can choose a pair of pants that will by increments sink down around my hips and nearly cause "costume malfunction" whilst speaking at a meeting, walking up to the store or working in the garden.

As you know we moved daycares last month. The new place is ok but the schedule I arranged for this setup is a disaster! I am currently working only a half day on Monday and Tues, then full days Wed, Thurs, Fri. This was to achieve a few things: 1. reduce my hours of work as I got more preggers 2. limit the daycare days due to concerns about expenses and the lady's schedule at the new place 3. to get my Mom back in performing babysitting shape.

1. reduce my hours of work ... has turned into, run horribly behind all the time and work the same hours over 6 days instead of 5, burning my 'personal time' window on Saturdays going into the office or working at home.

2. limit the daycare days ... has turned into have 3 good days at daycare and 1 really retarded one... On Mondays, I drop e. off at 9am. I want to pick her up at 1, or better yet 1:30. But don't you know since I made the plan her 11:30 nap pre-lunch has become a 1pm post-lunch nap. I am going through a bunch of crap over two days just to get my ass to work for 3 hours? Then on the Monday I get to come home to pick up a girl who is really tired at daycare and will have her nap all screwed up by me hauling her home again to bed 30 minutes past "naptime"

3. to get my Mom back in performing babysitting shape... is goin' ok. It is great to know I can skip doing laundry on a Monday night cause she'll help out Tuesday. E. goes ape shit knowing she is coming.. But, yep I will dare complain. Two things 1. it is a constant reminder to me of our rotten relationships with the grandpeople. We are always at odds with them it seems about silly things like, please don't feed our baby jolly ranchers for snack -- or in fact EVER -- and no we don't give her French fries for lunch. Please don't have her suck on all the fetid refuse in the recycle bin. Let's just say it occassionally gets so strained I have thought about getting my Dad a webcam so e. can see him more often and he lives 20 minutes drive from here! (E. hasn't seen her other grandparents, who live 5 min away for 6 weeks, since the invitations are still at the engravers.)

Then 2. to cap it this week my Mom took her life in her hands with the charming and dismissive 'hormones' comment.

What is wrong with me??? I seem to have forgotten, maybe, what a normal thing it is to have a range of individuals assess my life based on a simple computation of hormonal imbalance??

Forget that I have myriad of responsibilities that may or may not be going swimmingly on any given day. Please overlook that I have a demanding profession to care for and two new job opportuniities to sort out. Never mind I love this job and will miss it a lot with a departure coming on sooner than expected. Then, let's put aside the household duties I seem to feel chiefly responsible for around here. One should not at all stew in the challenges of the developing social, physical and emotional toddlerhood in this home which I feel is my primary occupation. Silly to be troubled by the negative aspects of our family politic on our lovely little girl. Further it would be best to forget about concerns I have that we need to move forward with a new housing arrangement. Who cares that I haven't even filed for my maternity leave and I have only 3 mos. left to cook up a brain, some organs and limbs, etc. on a new human being inside my body... ?? Silly to be concerned about my ongoing anemia in the light of this physical occupation of mine, human cookin'? I am such a ninny, really. Thank God you cleared that up Mom... It's all those hormones that is making me feel less than shipshape?? You're right, I am just 1 good nap away from everything being a-ok.

end o' rant.

ps... what bugs me the most is that my Mom is not the only one on this bandwagon. I do seem to have hit some golden 'little woman' stage of pregancy where everyone from my spouse to a stranger on the street will start talking about my hormones. Somedays I hate being a girl... but that is probably just the hormones talkin'