My garbage man is infallible, the stork not so much

There are a handful of things that should have me worked up this week. For example:

• The state governor's "budget repair" bill besides sucking is not great news for teacher-is-the sole-breadwinner-in-our-family situation.
• Said teacher already has his layoff notice for technical education.
• Said teacher's special education seniority and license is pretty sure, but there is not contract in his hot little hands until May.
• Said special education teacher's student has scabies. Ewwwwwww. I am already pregnant and itchy, and I had to deal with a couple days worth of paranoid itchiness, too.
• The baby like to take long naps in the morning where you feel no baby movement for 3 hour spells. I went to the hospital for a non-stress test earlier this week. My discharge papers said to contact them if I didn't feel 10 movements an hour. Ha! I'd be there every morning.
• There is some jackass running for City Council in Appleton who is a part of some Preserving White Heritage and White Vision group. What a gem!

However, most of these things haven't really phased me. I have been able to say to myself, "we're having a baby, all is good." Maybe they are all out of my control, and there is no one person (besides Scott Walker) to blame. BUT. SOMEONE. HAS. MY. WRATH. I hope my garbage man likes mommy blogs and stumbles upon this. He is a jack ass.

We only have monthly recycling pick-up. With the composting and the cloth diapers, we really have very little garbage. My garbage is usually less than half full. However, my recycling container is packed to the gills. I don't know why we have so much recycling - Bob's 2L of Diet coke, whiskey bottles and milk gallons? But, we often have too much for the container. A couple months ago I found out the correct process for additional recycling. I had the requisite container and went to the City garage to pick up the requisite stickers. The first month, they picked it up. The second month, I didn't have a need for overflow. This month, I put it out half full, and they didn't pick it up. So, I called them to make sure I didn't make some mistake or this wasn't some new cost savings plan. I feel like my work experience in local government probably made me more eager to follow their rules than most residents.

I assured the woman on the phone the bucket was less than half full. No, it wasn't plum full of papers. It wasn't too heavy. It was mixed. Yes, it has the stickers - on both sides! My husband put it out before he went to work, probably around 6 AM. She places me on hold to call the driver with my address. When she gets back on the phone she tells me that the driver doesn't believe me that my bin was out there.

Yes, it's a scam. I have so much to gain by this scam. I am 39 1/2 weeks pregnant, and I find this to be a good use of my time, pulling one over on the man.

What kind of crap customer service from both of them?! I can't believe she didn't cover for the driver. Maybe it's the pregnancy hormones, but I was irate. It doesn't cost them anything to have good customer service. They could have even been sly and said, "Oh, something must have been missed." I would have even held onto it for a month, but by then I was just mad. Sure, yeah, you better make another run and get it.

I have been composing letters in my head to the Director of Public Works. "I didn't realize that these fine public servants are perfect. Give them a raise! They never make mistakes?!?"

Next pick-up date should I stand outside with my "shame" posters?

Even typing it, I feel a bit ridiculous.

So, yeah, don't be jealous, my followers, but the dude who picks up my garbage is in-fucking-fallible.

But, you know who you can't trust? My doctor. He told me he was pretty sure I would have this baby before my next appointment. Well, appointment is 4:15 on Monday and I don't see any baby. Just sayin'.

I'm a Rockstar Mom (one time, for about 3 hours)

When I quit work people would comment that was great and now I could volunteer with some of the organizations I collaborated with at City Hall. That sounds great in theory, but I am not going to hire someone to watch my kids to volunteer during the day, and I kinda like to hang out with my husband at night. And, remember now, we have even less money than before!

But, one day this week, I took my kids to a protest at Senator Ellis' office, took them to storyhour, AND I baked and decorated cookies for a GSA convention. Yeah, and I did it all pregnant. Now, I am exhausted, and my mom has the girls for a night. I couldn't keep up that got-it-together mom routine for more than a day, sheesh...

I should have had babies a decade ago...

My mom seems to have all these expectations of me doing things with the girls. Maybe she just thinks I am fairly active at getting them out of the house (basically trying to tire them out or have other people entertain them) and is trying to be supportive, but I feel like she has some super mom expectations at times.

Earlier this week she called while the girls were napping to tell Claire it was perfect snowman making weather. All sorts of excuses came to my mind... I am 38 1/2 weeks pregnant, it's so annoying putting on snowpants, mittens, hats, boots, and coats on kids (and on a 38 1/2 week pregnant woman!), it's a weekday, etc.

BUT, I did it. I bundled up Claire, and we made a snowman. The snow was heavy, but the ball making was pretty easy. I had to get the neighbor over to help me lift the midsection up. The first thing he said to me was, "You're as big as a house." Wow, and he has a doctorate in psychology...

I decided either time has dulled my mom's memory OR having kids in your early 20's, like my mom did, is a heck of a lot easier than in your earlier 30s.

My girl wants to party all the time...

I am patting myself on the back for a well-delegated 2nd Birthday Party. I was hesitant to ask my mom to host Macy's birthday party because she tends to go overboard, but showing up to a decorated, clean house for an awesome brunch followed by no clean-up was definitely the way to go when 38 weeks pregnant!

The girls were chanting "party" on the way over, and when we got home they were talking about how much fun they had at that "ball."

While I was brushing my teeth the girls were sitting on the step into the shower (because, Lord knows, I am in a bathroom, they must follow). This was their post-party rehash:

Macy: "I'm sad"

Me: "Why are you sad, because your birthday party is over?"

Macy: "Yeah, I am sad 'cause my birthday is over."

Claire: "Oh, don't worry, we'll get you another one."

Hey, cow!

We're in the home stretch

I never understood the hubbub about stretch marks. I thought it was more of a physical testimony to how much weight you lost. Like bulking up before you are a candidate on Biggest Loser so you can boast how much weight you shed and win the weigh-in. It seems better than the alternative of being as big as you once were! Granted, I already have bowed out of the midriff-bearing at about age 18. So, it wasn't like anyone would get to see any stretch marks anyway. Even when my husband informed me I had stretch marks under my belly that I couldn't see the first pregnancy it didn't really phase me. I was more surprised, you sneaky marks, I couldn't even see you there under my big belly.

But seriously, does each daughter need to make her own mark? Couldn't they just go in the stretched out section that Claire already carved out for them? I think this baby is starting to make stretch marks above the belly button. This is odd since she is so low compared to her sisters. Now I am like, wow, this is disgusting. No wonder all those skinny bitches complained about them, they are gross!

Guess I will have to take down the full-length mirror above our bed, ha!

Sorry girls, but you're being raised by idiots...

I have long thought it is oddly easy to get married and have a baby (well, we are blessed to be uber-fertile folk). I think maybe to get a marriage license you should get a petition of 10 friends or family that think it's a good idea you marry your partner. If you can't find people, maybe you shouldn't get married. When we went to the county courthouse for our marriage license they just asked us about a dozen times if we were cousins. They asked Bob so many times about being married before or currently that I half-jokingly interrogated him afterwards if he had married his Albanian ex-girlfriend and failed to mention it. Then, with the pregnancy stuff the focus is all about pregnancy and labor and delivery. I am all about being educated and informed consent for labor and delivery, but in the grand scheme of child-rearing, that part is a pretty small window. I feel like they show you how to bathe a baby and use a car seat and send you off. I told Bob this time I filled out the birth plan that we'll be giving her her first bath rather than the nurses. If I can't stand up, it's all him. He thinks that I don't let us get our money's worth out of the hospital. He doesn't even want to cut the cord because that's somebody's job. I am sure they won't be laying off nurses for lack of stuff to do...

So, parenthood, yeah, it's like the one gig they can't fire you for gross incompetence. Bob & I are always proving that. Here are two recent entertaining (rather than my-kids-will-be-in-therapy-for-decades) examples:

1. So today I am logging onto the computer which forced a new password upon us. Since our kids leave us little time to actually communicate with each other from 5-7PM I was guessing what the password was that Bob picked. The computer gave me the hint, "Number 3." I seriously was about to type "tres" thinking that was an odd selection for Bob, and then I remembered I am pregnant with number 3. How would I forget that for a millisecond? Duh. But I am pregnant, that's my excuse for now...
3. What's Bob excuse? Last week we got Macy's 2-year old pictures taken. I was showing Bob what the photographer had posted on Facebook from the session. He says, "Wow, her eyes almost look blue in this picture!" Ummm, that's because her eyes ARE blue. They have been for the last two years. At least my husband knew babies were born with eyes open, unlike kittens...

But seriously, we may be morons, but do we not make the cutest kids?