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TTC solo

Can you conceive just from wishful thinking? I feel like I’ve had so many months in the last year that are write-off’s just because Hubby is out of town at the worst of times. I wonder sometimes if I could just get him to leave me a few samples in the freezer. Would that work? How the hell am I supposed to get pregnant if I’m flying solo half the time?

I did it, and no one twisted my arm

That’s right. I POAS’d today. I was ~4 days late?

And I had no signs that it was coming, but I did it (for a negative), walked out the door, and The Red Lady did come.

Hubby is leaving on Saturday for 2.5 weeks so I have no hope for next month. It’s a right off. I’ll console myself with fake wine and coffee… and my absence of reality as usual. What else should I entertain myself with? Any suggestions?

As Hubby so eloquently put it.

But he’s right. It’s so cold that walking to work this morning (I work next door to where I live to give you an idea) it was so cold that it made my eyes water…and then freeze the tears to my face and almost freezing my eyes. It hurt so bad it actually felt like they were burning. If it wasn’t just about as fast to walk in from the parking lot, I’d seriously consider driving to work in this weather.  To give you a better idea. The low tonight is -29 (feels like -39 with wind chill). The high tomorrow is -27 (feels like -37 with wind chill). Yay 2 degrees! Pointless or what?

Now that I’ve finished being sad about the cold (and wishing there was more snow to insulate us and warm things up at least), I get to the awesome news. That new child care I just found and started today? Found out last night that she isn’t a registered business so I can’t get receipts to write off on my taxes. That’s about $8000 a year that I wouldn’t be able to claim. Are you SHITTING ME!

I can’t even be really mad at the lady because this was her first time accepting non-casual child care (for which you don’t have to claim) and she hadn’t even thought of it until I brought it up. And I only brought it up because Hubby wanted checks for a paper trail and I said “she’ll give us a receipt, that’s our paper trail”. But I am ticked because now I have to do this ALL OVER AGAIN!!!!

That’s got to be some kind of record right? Toast before you’ve even started? But I have to stick with her until I find someone else because I literally have no other option. NONE of the other people that responded came back for a second round once I started asking questions (not the kind of people you want watching your son if they can’t/ are too flakey to answer simple questions).

She’s not shocked or upset that I’ll have to look elsewhere, but she’s also not willing to do the paperwork to list herself as her own business. I can’t help but wonder what the other woman who just booked her for child care is going to think. I’m pretty sure they are full-time too.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, I’m due today…ish. Maybe yesterday or tomorrow since I have a little built-in leeway now.

On to the song of the day (day being roughly whenever I post). It’s depressing and slightly creep in a romantic way of a really sad story. I love this guy’s voice even though I hated it at first. He grew on me quickly years ago. It’s a cold weather song.

The definition of frustration

We all are familiar with being frustrated. Over the last while at work, some things have been happening, and I’ve decided to redefine the word.

Frustration: Working on a secured dementia unit during a GI outbreak.

It is not possible to keep anyone on isolation. It is not possible to get them to stop touching each other and everything else, going into each others rooms, eating off each other’s plates.

They can’t remember that they are on isolation. They can’t remember why they shouldn’t go into that room with the isolation sign. They can’t remember that they are sick and that we’re not making it up. Why would we pretend everyone has diarrhea?! Why would we pretend everyone is puking? But they sure as hell are trying to convince me that it’s all one big conspiracy.

And because of that, this shit just wont go away! (ya, I’m a knee slapper).

Just a little update

So, I did find a new day home. I think. I start on Monday with her and I’m feeling as good as I can seeing as I don’t actually know her and this is my fifth day home in three years. But we’re giving it a go and she seems super nice. Sadly, it will be Monster and 5 girls every day. I NEED to get him some boys to hang out with, poor kid.

My hip is 50% stable! No, I have no clue what that means, but my chiropractor seemed really happy about it. I’m hoping when I see her tomorrow she’ll take me off modified duties. As fun as it is to get “my minions” to haul it around for me, if I never again have to wait for someone else to move it so that I can do my work, it will be too soon. They’ve all been really great about it at work though and my residents cheer for me when I find something light enough that doesn’t hit my weight limit and I can be useful. Then again I did get stuck in a hunched squat today and had to get my partner to help me up. But I made sure that I did the dressing change while I was down there. They can tease all they want, at least I was productive.

And Last by not least, Sex For Dummies has yet to reveal anything amazing to me. Although, I did find it interesting to note that there is actually no scientific proof that a g-spot exists. So if you have a magical place in your vagina that makes your world tip upside down in a toe curl, I guess that falls under a “nice to be you” and maybe an “I hate you a little right now”.  😉 

Almost forgot. I picked “One for the Money” by Janet Evanovich for my book club. Not my norm, but it’s a 4.5/5 on amazon after 697 review and it’s supposed to be really funny.

 

Sex for Dummies

I was so incredibly grumpy yesterday that I put myself in time out. It started at work. I had no reason for feeling the way I did and I let everyone know “don’t take this personally, I just need to be sent to bed and  that’s not really doable until I get home”. Sadly, when my mom called after work ~20 minutes into my self-appointed time out, she didn’t quite grasp on to the “I’m really grumpy and need a time out” message and proceeded to chat on asking me to make calls (which I hate doing) and save dates (which I can’t at the moment because it’s too far in advance to know my schedule) and these are things you just DONT want to talk to me about when I’m grumpy. My poor mother was met with Openly Hostile Me and finally realized that I wasn’t joking about needing to be sent to bed.

I think the only thing that would have pulled me out of my funk yeterday would have been a sword fight.

At least I was nice enough to build a fort for Monster before I retired and gave him games, movies and snacks. He didn’t really suffer.

But today is a much better day. I’m not grumpy any more, so I called my mom to tell her it’s now safe to talk to me. I did a little running around after sleeping in until 10:30 (I had to kick Monster out of bed, he hadn’t gotten up yet either!). After the chiropractor (my hip is doing fairly well under the circumstances, just sos you knows) I wanted to go look at clothes. I missed out on boxing week shopping and was a little sad about that. At the end of my perusal of the consignment store (pretty much the only way I shop because I like hand-me-downs) I found a stash of books by the till. And what should pop into view?

Well, we all know that we haven’t mastered the fine art of sex here. If we had, we’d be pregnant, right? That’s the problem. The overall public consensus. We don’t know how to have sex right.

After a good giggle from both me and the lady working there, I had to get it. She was a little shocked, but how can you go wrong? $1 to find out what I’m missing.

Maybe I’ll actually learn something. 😉 (I’ll let you know if I find anything fun)

Oh, and on a side note, I need to make my next book club pick pretty soon and I’m looking for suggestions. Mo picked my last one for me (Hunger Games) and before that I made them read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. They make me read normal girly books and I like making them read… different ones. So what is your suggestion and why?

Oy, my aching hip

I didn’t add this into my last post in the interest of not…piling the shit on too thick? Ya, that sounds about right.

So, one of the down sides to my profession is that I’m not really build to help people physically much. I’m the size of a 10-year-old for crying out loud. But on average that doesn’t stop me.

On Wednesday I had a resident that had taken a big turn for the worse over that past few days since I’d seen him. He went from walking around (wabbley) and being able to hold a conversation (albeit very confused but if you stuck with the “now” it was ok) and being able to tell you what, if anything, was wrong at any given time. But when I got on shift after being located on the other floor for the last few days, he was completely different. He couldn’t get out of bed, was yelling and screaming at random, hitting and grabbing at the staff, and so confused that you couldn’t even reason with him for a moment. And this is a REALLY nice man we’re talking about. He was labelled palliative, eminently dying. He was in so much pain that we were having to give him crazy amounts of drugs to try and make him comfortable, but he wasn’t drinking or eating anything. He was so dehydrated that he was going toxic from the analgesics  (making him WAY loopier) and we were near desperate to convince him that drinking was a good thing.

Closer to the end of my shift I check on him and he says he’s thirsty. SWEET! So here I am trying to help prop up this 200/ 250 lbs guy that is in too much pain/ confusion to help me but no one else is available and if I wait he’ll forget that he waned the drink. I honestly didn’t think it would be such a struggle. I was still used to him moving on his own. So when I was doing shift change report 30 min later and my hip was a little sore I was thinking “damn it, I guess that was more awkward than I thought”.

Another 30 minutes later driving my partner home and picking up Monster, it actually hurt to drive. I called my boss just to let her know that I may or may not have hurt myself more than just a little and if it was still an issue after a hot shower and a night sleep I’d come in so we could fill out some WCB forms (workers comp forms, don’t know if it’s different in different countries).

I spent that evening between laying and standing because sitting didn’t feel so hot. The next morning I was pretty sore still so I booked a chiropractor appointment and came into work to fill out the forms. Turns out I’d pulled a nasty strain on my left SI joint and it was worse than I’d thought. H (my chiropractor) told me the whole “ice 3 x daily for three days, no lifting/ puling/ pushing, lots of laying down, and I’ll see you tomorrow after your acupuncture”. I was sore but doable that day. The next day after acupuncture and more being cracked I went home knowing that I was going to be hurting. AND HURT I DID! Getting that hip back in is NOT FUN! I was so sore that I was nearly in tears all day and I have a very high pain tolerance. She also told me I wasn’t allowed to got to work Sunday (today) and I’d be on modified duties for ~2 weeks.

Well, it still is uncomfortable if I sit for long but I feel much better than I was before. But my main problem has become I’m bored stiff. I was more than happy to lay around reading for a couple days, watching tv for variety, Hubby cooking meals, but that’s old now. I’ve gotten used to moving around and DOING things.

This is going to be me pretty soon

I NEED SOMETHING TO DO!!!!!!!!

Anyone up for a hip swap?

I know I haven’t given much of an update about my working full-time now, just bittles here and there. But easily put, I really like my job. I like being back at work, talking to adults, using my brain for more than finding ways to entertain my preschooler, being forced to socialize again because even though I knew I had become a hermit it turns out that it was worse than I’d realized. I’m being a productive member of society. I’m not in any way saying that raising my son is not being productive, but I realize now that being ONLY at home with him and almost no social / support network (sorry but virtual socializing just doesn’t seem to count enough to prevent hermitizing but you guys did keep me from being completely insane) was really not good for me.

I’ve felt amazing since going back to work. Being physically active (I’m eating like a pig and losing weight from how much motoring around I’m doing) is great. I’m not feeling as tired any more. But the best part is that I’ve been pulled out of the heavy depression that I didn’t realize that I’d been in, building up over the last few years. Did you know you could suffer double depression? Last winter was horrible for me, but I didn’t realize the depression I suffered was only on top of a depression that had slowly built up over time.

Ok, I’m rambling, and on to the downer part of the post. You may remember that the only reason I was able to accept the position was that by some miracle in my small town, I was able to find a day home that was agency run AND did weekends. Finding child care here is nearly impossible for those that don’t work monday – friday 9-5. So, Dec 23rd at about 11pm as I’ve got everything ready for Christmas eve, I decided to go through Monsters back pack and read the journal S keeps for him about all day home stuff.

Inside is a letter of termination of care.

I re-read it about 10 times thinking that I was misunderstanding something. But I wasn’t. She’s got just as much problems with fertility/ pregnancy as all of us here and she’s having a really hard time in her pregnancy now (which she only opened up about a few weeks back). I was DEVASTATED. I cried all night and all Christmas eve. May sound like an over reaction, but it means so much more than just having to find a new day home.

Losing child care that I really like. The knowledge that I may very well not be able to find a replacement willing to do weekends. Not an exaggeration since I’ve spent three years here trying to find reliable childcare. The knowledge that if I can’t, I’ll have to quit my job. The only reason Hubby was able to take his promotion to assistant manager (which was a slight pay cut) was because I was now working so if I quit he’ll have to quit and go back into the field. That if I’m not working I’ll be drawn right back into that horrible place that I didn’t know I was in, stuck at home all the time not seeing anyone and looking at the constant reminder that I may be an at home mom but I can’t seem to bring any more children into this world to raise, rubbing my secondary infertility in my face. I’m terrified of going back there.

We’re just leaving out the obvious part about wanting her pregnancy to go well.

Can’t say that it helps that this is the fourth time I’ve lost child care and the fourth time it’s been to pregnancy. Just in case I needed that little extra face rub.

So I’m staring at the potential of everything we’ve worked for and achieved over the last few month flushing down the drain because it all depends on one thing that we have so little control of.

I’m more numb to it now. I’ve got less that two weeks to find a solution or lose my job.

So please, I’m asking you to all send your prayers, good thoughts, or anything more helpful than cheese string my way. Cross everything you’ve got that I can find someone willing/ able/ and responsible enough to take care of my son.

Merry Christmas Eve, Eh! A little joy from Bob and Doug McKenzie.

Ya, it took me this long to figure out how to put videos back in my posts since they changed the system.

I got a little kick out of this, thought you might too. Found it online but I can’t find any author to credit. Merry 2 days till Christmas everybody!

‘Twas The Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the
annual Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence,
kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this
potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus
musculus. Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the
wood burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure
regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among
whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St.  Nicholas.

The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective
accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual
hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through
their cerebrums.  My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head
coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness
when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended
such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity
from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source
thereof.

Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing
this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance
without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline
precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian
itself – thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to
behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight
diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a minuscule,
aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly
apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller. With his
ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have been more
vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated
loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and
addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen – “Now
Dasher, now Dancer…” et al. – guiding them to the uppermost exterior
level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the
concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.

As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a
180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved – with utmost
celerity and via a downward leap – entry by way of the smoke passage. He
was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from
oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls
thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the
plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious
cloth receptacle.

His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his submaxillary
dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The
capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were engorged with
blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the
coloration of Albion’s floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium,
or sweet cherry.  His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so
much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment
appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water.

Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey
fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive
of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was
high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region
undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical
container. He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund,
multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly
frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By rapidly
lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his head slightly to
one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.

Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the
aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned
articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously
dorsally transported cloth receptacle.  Upon completion of this task,
he executed an abrupt about-face, placed a single manual digit in
lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium
forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith effected his
egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage. He then
propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a
musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the
antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a
movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions
of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible
immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of
visibility: “Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to
that self same assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously
beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and
dawn.”