I’m finally sitting down. I have a cup of coffee next to me, and it contains way more creamer than necessary. Our amazing Nanny just got here early to rescue Max from the Disney Jr marathon that he’s been plugged into all morning (don’t judge, they’re un-asbestos-ing our house today, so Sofia the First was keeping him out of trouble).

I’ve been really pissed off lately. And it’s showing. And I’m sorry.

So I’m going to take a drink of coffee, and fill you in.

The Good:

1.  I passed my 3 hour glucose test!  No thanks to Lab Tech A, who left me with some awesome evidence of a morning well spent.

Don’t worry, Lab Tech B got the other arm, and that one doesn’t have a single mark to show for it.  Note to self, when a blood-drawing professional punctures 2 different veins and NO BLOOD COMES OUT, it’s wise to request another tech. Now I’m back to eating all.the.GirlScout.cookies.  What?  That’s not what I’m supposed to do?

2.  Puppet shows in the living room.  I mean, what else do you use potholders and old shoes for?  Thank you preschool, for teaching Max the “Little Peter Rabbit” song.  And Daddy, for being the Puppet Shoe.  Oh the cuteness!

3.  Last night at dinner, Max began a conversation about chimneys, electricity, airplanes, flank steak, and Paris.  I love listening to his speech catch up with his racing brain.  Highly entertaining, this one.

The Bad:

1. Asbestos.

2.  I’m not kidding.

3.  We moved to our new house to make our lives easier.  And then the plumbing exploded.  And it was full of sewage.  And they underestimated the damage and the amount of time it would take to fix things.  And then they found asbestos. Because why the fuck not?  The last few weeks have  been a whirlwind of scheduling contractors/asbestos testers/carpet guys/cleaners/movers/plumbers/repairmen.  I know way more than I ever cared to about what is essentially a remodel of our entire master bedroom and bath.  Did I mention that we’re renting?  And that this house was supposed to make our lives easier?  Well, it’s not.  Throw in a 30 weeks pregnant lady and a guy whose arm has been in a cast since DECEMBER, and we’re a happy crew.

The In Between:

1.  My writing.  I’ve had a lot to say, but it hasn’t come out that well.  Strong emotions usually lead to quality prose, at least for me.  But apparently writing while angry and anxious is a recipe for really shitty blog posts.  As you may have seen last night, when I wrote a little something about how your life will go to hell when you bring a newborn home.  It was meant to be funny, but it wasn’t.  It was just mean.  So I took it down.  And then there was the one last week about adoptive parents.   Perhaps my scathing rebuttal to the viral post about the two dads who found their baby “abandoned on the subway” was a little too controversial.  So I’m censoring myself.  At least for now.  Not all writing needs to be a home-run.  Sometimes it helps to take a little batting practice when you realize your game is starting to suck.

There are a lot of things to sort out in the next few weeks.  Our first meeting with the doula is tomorrow.  I’m guessing one needs to clean around the asbestos the house and offer something freshly baked, so that she doesn’t think we’re total heathens.  Though heathens need birthing help too, you know.  This is all making me realize that we have a lot of preparing to do for when baby brother comes.  Starting with move the hell out of his ROOM damn you asbestos I fucking hate you sewage pipes!  Because again, is it too much to ask that just for once I actually have a chance to relax and nest and prepare for a baby?  Because you know, last time in the hotel with the sick dog and the house that wasn’t ready yet is starting to look a lot like this time, with the fucking nightmare falling apart at the seams house.

Deep breath.  Swig of coffee.

Write on.  Have a Thin Mint.  Put asbestos mask back on.  Just kidding.  They haven’t given us the masks yet.

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