Unreliable.

Have you ever had one of those days, where you realize the only person you can truly depend on is yourself?????

I had to take Zoey to the vet’s this morning, to get her annual round of shots.  Rabies, distemper, tetanus, the whole nine yards.  Because it’s almost impossible for me to get anywhere on time these days, I asked my mother to come with me (so she could wait in the running car with Mason while I zipped in & out of the office with the dog).

My appointment was for 10:00.  At 9:15, the phone rang.  “Kris, I can’t come with you.”  Fake cough fake cough fake cough.  “I have to go the doctor.  I don’t feel good.  I think I’m getting pneumonia or something.”  She was fine on Wednesday, but thinks she’s developed the black plague since then.  Did I mention my mother is a hypochondriac?  She thrives on the attention the doctors & nurses give her, and goes to some form of a physician at least once a week.  Yeah, Medicare is losing money on her myriad of submissions.

Anyway, I finished feeding Mason, schlepped him into the car seat, loaded up the dogs, and headed for the hills.  Everything went fine, except for the part where the baby started screaming as soon as I opened the door to the vet’s office.  I set the car seat on the floor, and went dashing back outside for Zoey.  By the time I came back in, the receptionist had taken him out of the car seat (without asking first!), and was carrying him all around the office.  I honestly don’t mind that she was holding him – I would have gladly handed him over – but don’t you think she should have asked me first?!?

She brought us into an exam room, then disappeared with the baby.  Zoey freaked out. She went running in to the hallway to see where that crazy lady went with Mason.  As soon as she couldn’t see him, she went thundering through to the front of the office, and actually grumbled a little at the receptionist.  Apparently, the old girl does not like strange people to handle “her baby”.  It’s good to know that my 120# ball of fluff would take down anyone who tried to mess with my kid.

After we got home, Dave called to say that my father invited him to check out a game farm tomorrow morning.  He’s thinking of joining, and wants a second opinion on whether it’s worth the annual fee or not.  Normally, I’m glad to get him out of my hair……….but he promised to watch the baby ALL WEEKEND so I could hang out downstairs and get some more sewing done.  And then he had the audacity to suggest that I could say no.  Yeah, right.  Then I’d have to listen to both him AND my father complain about how I never let him have any fun.  This after he went to his buddy’s house to check out some beer brewing equipment (with samples) after work tonight.  And he met an old friend of his for happy hour on Wednesday night.

I sit home with the baby day after day after day.  If I need to go anywhere without him, I beg my parents to watch him for me.  They don’t mind doing it; but it always has to be both my mom and my dad, because my mom can’t carry him from one place to the other.  Hell, she can’t even get out of the chair when she’s done holding him.  Ever since she had her hip replacement surgery, she doesn’t pick up her feet and shuffles along on the carpet like her feet are made of cement.  And she has minor tremors in one of her hands, so there’s no way I can trust her to carry him.  If *I* want to go anywhere, I have to plan well in advance (and half the time it backfires on me anyway, like today at the vet’s office!).  If he wants to go anywhere, he goes.

I feel like I have the same stupid complaints over and over and over, but I honestly don’t know how to change things around here.  One step forward, six steps back.  If I say no, he can’t go; then I’m the bitter, controlling ball and chain who never lets him have any fun.  But I’m miserable, because I can’t depend on him to give me a break (even when he promised he would).

I used to think my mom was crazy, when she bitched about how she was being taken advantage of.  My dad always provided for us; and as a kid, I always thought that should have been enough.  But now I know exactly how she felt.  Trapped.  Resentful.  And completely unappreciated.

I don’t know, maybe I’m the crazy one.  But I’ve never felt this alone in my entire life.  I don’t have any close friends, and there’s no way I could leave the baby with anyone else while he’s still in this horrible colicky phase.  I know he’ll be through it soon enough, but I need some time to myself NOW, dammit.

Okay.  Done complaining.

Does anyone use Nestle Goodstart formula?  I have 2 coupons (one is for $11.00 and the other one is for $1.00 off).  And I also have a $5.00 off coupon for Similac.  They both have my name pre-printed on them; but I know Walmart accepts them, no problem.  If you want them, e-mail me your mailing address to Kris [at] chubbymummy.com, and I’ll pop them in the mail. Also, if you have any Enfamil coupons you don’t need, I could use them.

Finally, I finished the baby blanket tonight.  Is it perfect?  Nope, but it’s pretty cute.

Folded up, ready to go:

Showing the backing (the brown/tan paw prints), against the front:

And the whole thing (it’s 32″ x 42″):

See it larger here:  Full Size Quilt Pic

I’m thinking of putting it on ebay, just to see if there’s any interest.  I know etsy works, and there’s always the porn empire of craigslist.

I wonder if I’d be arrested if I put the baby ON the blanket, and tried to sell them both.  Sort of a 2-for-1 deal, if you please.  Or better yet, I’ll have the husband hold the baby wrapped up in the blanket, and advertise all 3 for one low opening bid.  I might even throw in some power tools, if the price is right.