And I said I was going to post for you guys on either Monday or Tuesday. Forgive me.

Well, I said I had a shitload of news for you, so here it is...

Daniel applied for a job with the county last week. I wasn't aloud to share this news over the internet for various reasons, but mostly because my ex-boyfriend is on a serious mission to get a job through my dad (which I find really weird) and we didn't want the phone calls. As if he would help my ex? Especially if it were to lower the chances for the father of his grandchild? As bitchy as it sounds: get a life, dude. We helped you enough during the two years we dated, even though you were pretty much using us the entire time. I won't get into all of that, though.

Source: whalesandwayfarers.tumblr.com
via Ashton on Pinterest

Anyway, the job listing closed Monday, which means no more applicants at this particular time, and now all we can do is hope beyond all hope that Daniel gets picked for an interview. First they have to go over the applications, score them, rank them, and then notify the top however-many-applicants they're interviewing. My dad says this could take about three weeks, but I'm already going so freaking crazy with anticipation!

If this works out, Daniel will go from making minimum wage approximately 18 hours a week to making a good deal more, full time. Which means we can actually get our own apartment, and since we'll have the truck (on loan from my grandma), everything will just be looking so much better than it has been. We seriously can't live on Daniel's current income, and so if this doesn't work out, we're back to a major job hunt for him.

My dad says that we will definitely get him in with the county eventually, and that he has a damn good chance this round. But everything depends, you know? We don't know how many other people are applying or how qualified they are, but we suspect there won't be much competition. I hope, I hope, I hope.

Oh, and Daniel got his permit about a week ago, which he'd been putting off; he gets discouraged. We have to get his license very soon (by the date of interview, if he gets one), so we're on some major crunch-time. I'm proud of him and I can tell he's proud of himself.

And he's doing so well! I was thoroughly convinced that he would never want to drive with me again after our first time out, but he's been back in the car with me twice since. It's just that I was extremely nervous that first time. And it showed...oh, did it. He was having trouble centering the car, and it's big, so I was freaked out. But I gave him the pointers he needed, and the second time he improved so much. I know he'll pass now, I'm absolutely positive. And I'm excited for him! He's been putting all of this off for so long, and now that he's taking the initiative, I can see how much his spirits have lifted.

On another note, I HATE MY OB. Or, rather, the clinic I've been going to, considering they've changed my OB like four times without asking me or really informing me. I have so many problems with them...and I'm going to rant about them now. I warned you.

- I have not once gotten any test results (not even for a blood test which was supposed to alert me to chances of birth defects!).

- The receptionists are incredibly rude.

- I have had appointments canceled/rescheduled at the very last minute numerous times because apparently they have no idea when their doctors are actually going to be there. Which wouldn't be so annoying if these were surprise days off, emergencies, whatever. NOPE. Just didn't know the doctor was out of town that day? Cool. No, I'm not at all bothered by the fact that I'm driving to the appointment as we speak but you want me there tomorrow. Oh, and you want me to either see a doctor I've never seen before (again) or one that I totally hate? No problem.

- Also, if that's the case, WHY CAN'T I JUST KEEP MY APPOINTMENT DATE? Obviously I'm not seeing my doctor anyway, so why do I want to drive over again tomorrow to see a doctor that's there today?

- I have also walked in for a scheduled appointment, only to be seen as a walk-in. Because they didn't schedule right. Go figure.

- I have called the right department and had the phone ring for an eternity. I have called the wrong one because the right one refused to answer and been put on hold for a half-hour because I called the wrong one.

Source: limadean.tumblr.com via Janette on Pinterest

- This is during business hours. Nothing's happening whatsoever off-hours (even though they tell me to call if I have questions...and ya know, sometimes I do, being pregnant and all). If it's an emergency? Whatever, go to the ER. But we're going to yell at you next time for going without calling us first.

- The doctors love to blow off my questions and concerns like I'm an idiot. Like recently, I told one particular doctors that I can't handle dairy. ANY form of dairy. He said, "Try yogurt." Yogurt is dairy. It makes me sick. "Try cheese." Okay, I can have some cheese, but how much cheese do you seriously think I can handle? It's dairy. I just want to know if I should be taking calcium supplements. "No, eat cheese." Fuck you.

I hate them so much.

But it turns out I can't find another clinic that accepts my insurance, and so I'm stuck with the fuckers. (HUGE sad face.) For now, I did call them and tell them very kindly that I'm tired of being switched and I want to see a particular doctor (who I actually haven't seen before this appointment, but which my dad and his girlfriend were very fond of while she was pregnant with CJ), and so I'm hoping I can get him every time. Even if I have to be rude about the fact that I won't accept less. I'm sure they'll forget the conversation happened, though.

Did I have more to say? I can't remember because I have pregnancy brain up the ass right now...and this feels unfinished. Oh well.

Oh, I'm going insane. I have a sort of friend (more an acquaintance) who insists on making shitty remarks constantly. About whatever she can think of, really. They're always involving things that she just doesn't need to bring up, especially considering these things shouldn't even be on her mind if she's really living life the way she pretends to be. Does that make sense?

And guess what the most popular topic is as of late? Pregnancy. Yup. It drives me fucking crazy.

The worst part is, when I told her I was seven weeks pregnant (or rather discussed it with her - I don't remember where she had heard it exactly), she was suddenly eight weeks, but insisted that she wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. She also boasted that, oh my god, she had actually planned her pregnancy, unlike all the other girls our age (she's actually a few years younger than me...sigh).

Now, though, she constantly posts about how she's so happy to be taking care of a boyfriend rather than a child, or about how great her life is because she's waiting - mystery baby unmentioned and comments always completely unprompted.

I want to give her the benefit of the doubt and say that maybe she actually was pregnant and something went badly, but I just can't. And I'm really sorry if I'm wrong about that. But she's the type who has had multiple pregnancies (supposedly), though only when she's trying to save a relationship or something of the sort. She hasn't a single baby, and after being mentioned exactly once or twice, the news of said pregnancies is always aloud to fade out until it's forgotten. And then it's never spoken of again.

She's also the type who has always jumped on things and made them her obsession for like two months, but then she gets bored and moves on. And I can't help but think that having a baby is the same thing for her. And that maybe her boyfriend doesn't want a kid or something, and that just drives her crazy. You know?

Source: 1.bp.blogspot.com via Taylor on Pinterest

Maybe I'm being an ass even saying any of this, but seriously? Even if it is some sort of situation where her pregnancies aren't working out and she's bitter about it, she doesn't need to make those of us who are having babies feel shitty, does she? She doesn't have to constantly be throwing in our faces how "miserable" our lives are going to be now that we have to change dirty diapers and clothes, wipe away slobber, chase after children. It's just not necessary. If she really is so happy without a baby in her life, she should move on from it. She should not keep bringing it up.

Also, at least acknowledge the good points. Our babies are going to bring us cuddles, laughter, that wonderful baby smell. Incredible love greater than anything we've ever experienced before. Overwhelming joy.

I'm glad that she's having fun partying and moving into her new apartment and spending uninterrupted-by-crying time with her boyfriend. I'm glad to hear that she has time to intern on top of her two jobs and that she's finding purpose in a profession. I'm happy for her, really. But my baby boy is going to give me purpose, and while he wasn't planned and I did have to give up late nights and numerous friendships and probably the expectation of having a moment alone from now until he starts kindergarten, I just can't regret him.

And really, there's nothing wrong with that. We all have our lives and we're not all going to live them the same. Can't we just respect each others'?


PS: Please forgive me if this sounds completely insensitive. I'm just so damn bothered by her constant need to make my life seem meaningless just because she's living hers differently.

Yesterday I woke up (if you can call it that) after a total of 30 minutes of sleep to take Boyfriend on a wild goose chase around town.

Source: ffffound.com
via Mimi on Pinterest

Maybe some back story: about a week or two ago, his wallet was stolen from his best friend's window. I'm not even kidding - someone came by the house while they were sleeping, stuck their hand in the window, and stole everything sitting there. I mean, it's easy, but who would think of it? Maybe a lot of people.

Anyway, the day started with us hunting down a photocopy of his ID, which we needed to get a replacement copy of his social security card. We went to a county office, waited in the line which was (thankfully) shorter than usual, still got called up to the window three times before actually being helped, and then finally got a copy printed. And it was horrible. You couldn't even see his face. I was pretty sure it wasn't going to fly, but we headed over to SS because we really needed to give it a shot.

And after going to all of that trouble, the SS office wouldn't accept copies - which, realistically, I expected.  But logically, they gave us a temporary card (which was basically a printout with one of their workers' signatures) to take to the DMV to get a new ID (which they wouldn't give him with his social security card), and he then has to bring his ID back to the social security office to get a replacement SS card.

I think I'm getting a headache.

We finished at the SS office, went to Walmart (which is next door) to pick up some food to cook ourselves for lunch, and went back to the apartment. My head got closer and closer to the table as I waited for the pizza to cook. I barely finished a slice before I went to the room and passed out - remember that I had 30 minutes of sleep? I was dying.

It felt something like this.
Source: deshow.net via Huong on Pinterest

Also, I don't know how you act when you're sleep deprived, but I'm pretty ridiculous. I was laughing hysterically at things that only deserved a chuckle...if that. Like telling Boyfriend that I hadn't slept and was probably going to crash the car? Yeah, like that. I laughed and laughed. He laughed at me, but not at the situation. He asked me to please not crash.

I thought that was funny, too.

Anyway, we went through yesterday morning's big ol' mess because he had an interview at 2 yesterday afternoon; I only got in maybe another 1 1/2 to 2 hours of sleep, but at least it was something. And then I drove him to Tulare for the interview. Which the manager, "Shawn", set up himself, mind you. But when the girl behind the counter called and asked dear Shawn when he would be back from lunch, he said he was leaving for the day.

How very professional.

And what a waste of sleep deprivation. Like I don't have months of this to look forward to? I hate you, Shawn.

It's like, I don't want to complain about everything...but I just need to.

Daniel can still smoke and drink and see his friends, and I haven't asked him to stop any of that because I honestly just don't feel like he should have to until he wants to. And I know he will, because he loves our baby. I know he will because he's already cut back immensely. I know he will as his bond with Baby Boy grows even stronger, because as much as I want to yell that he should have wanted to stop the day we learned that BB was growing inside of me, he didn't feel the same way I did.

Source: lh4.googleusercontent.com
via Beck on Pinterest

For him, it wasn't real until the first ultrasound, when he actually saw proof of BB's existence. Before that he just knew that I was puking and that I felt an some sort of magic pulsing through me, and living vicariously, well, it's just not the same.

And I don't mean that an immediate change needs to occur. I don't even mean that he should cut everything out completely. What I mean is that it doesn't need to be done around me while I'm pregnant, it doesn't need to be done around our little boy ever, and it doesn't need to be done, generally, in excess. You know?

Everything in my life has changed for this baby. I quit all of my bad habits (which I'm not really complaining about). I quit doing things that aren't really that big of a deal, but which I'm not allowed to do with a baby inside of me - like avoiding doctor's offices at all costs and walking everywhere in 100 degree weather and wondering if there was ever a use for water besides showering (you can drink this stuff??).

And I lost most (nearly all) of my friends because they just don't know how to connect with me anymore, since I get back-aches after two hours of watching them get shitfaced and want to go home, but they have four more games of beer pong lined up and the vodka's not gone. I get it, guys, but I'm currently home to a parasite, and I just can't take it.

I feel very alone lately.

I'm not saying that Daniel isn't there for us - he's a wonderful person, but god am I feeling overwhelmed. It's hard being the woman! He doesn't even have to think about the situation if he doesn't want to (not saying that he doesn't, but you get me?), and at any point in time he can just decide that this wasn't the right time for him and he can walk away.

I can't. I'm the one who this baby is attaching to even though it doesn't even feel real to me sometimes. I'm the one who no longer has any control over her body, at least for the time being - I can't eat what I want or drink what I want or go where I want, and I'm getting fat without even really changing my diet that drastically. I'm the one who has turned into a goddamn apartment building (with free buffet coming soon!). I'm the one who will be expected to (and who just will) always nurture this child because it's what's expected of me, because it's what's right, because it's my human nature.

Damn me. All of that sounds so incredibly selfish.

And it's not to say that I don't want this. I really want this. I already love my baby more than anything and he's not even here yet. I can't wait to feed him and cuddle him and even change him - it just doesn't scare me. I don't expect any of it to be easy, but I don't feel that I can't do any part of it. I know I can.

But sometimes it's just so frustrating thinking about the way everything's changing and the potential future situations that I just want to cry. And sometimes (most the time...) the situation I'm crying over isn't even close to being real.

Like: as if Daniel's going to leave me? He's the one who's always wanted kids. I'm the one who could have done without (until BB was real, at least, now there's no way I could). And he loves me, loves us, so incredibly much that his love alone makes me cry happy tears sometimes, because just knowing that I'm capable of inspiring that kind of feeling in someone after so long of being in shitty relationships is so incredibly overwhelming. My pregnant mind just doesn't know how else to react.

Still though, it will always be my biggest fear. And maybe it's those shitty relationships that has helped put me on constant alert, and maybe I need to teach myself how to get over it. I just don't know how to, especially now that I'm so incredibly vulnerable.

I don't understand myself anymore.

Source: wonderwren.blogspot.com via Erin on Pinterest

PS: I went to go and find a picture on Pinterest that had something to do with stress and pregnancy so that I could include it here. And I found this, and it made me cry - in the best way. I truly can't wait for my little boy; he's already my everything.

PPS? My 100 day countdown just started. How very exciting.