Thursday, May 17, 2007



(more later, I promise)

Oy. These people lead a lifestyle that I'm just not accustomed to. There is no schedule, no order, no pattern to their lives. Every day is something different, a different time, a different commitment, etc. Tonight, for example, we had dinner at 9:30. Last night, it was at 5:30 (I cooked and fed us). Tonight, my MIL and SIL got into a shouting match and fought all over the place, in front of the kids, which makes me feel awkward.* They so remind me of me and my mom at that age. We were never this bad, but the general feeling is the same. Neither one can do anything right in the other's eyes. It passes, I know, but I can't convince them of that. There's junk food everywhere, and I can't stay on my diet when nobody supports me! The girls' sleep schedules are all over the place, which makes them (and me) cranky and weird. I'm sharing a bed with the Bear, which means I sleep worse than I usually do (and that's really saying something) because she kicks and flops and turns and snores and farts. We need our routine, and our space, and I need to be able to enforce *my* way of doing things. I WANT MY HOUSE BACK!

This is not to disparage my in-laws, because living at my parents' house is just as stressful. Well, not quite, because I can tell them exactly how I'm going to do things, and my word is law. Here, I never want to step on anyone's toes, because I just want to keep the peace. Which is all well and good, but it's really starting to chap my ass. My work isn't getting done because of the crazy schedule around here, which is making me lose money, and the available yummy (junky fatty) food is making me pack on the pounds. Today at the doctor I was my heaviest ever non-pregnant weight. It's a number I just can't divulge (seriously, it's awful), but let me just say this - my fat jeans won't button all the way.

Everyone has been so kind and helpful to us while my house is broken, but I just want to sell the damn thing and settle down in one damn place for good. Damn it!

I'm off to hit the anxiety meds before I go into ultimate freak-out mode, as my good friend called it when we lived together.

*Turns out my SIL is having sex with her boyfriend, and my MIL (devout Catholic and concerned mom) is duly horrified. Ack... Somebody needs to put that girl on the Pill, stat.


julie said...

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Want to come stay with me for a while? :)

Jane said...

If I didn't think you already had your hands full, I'd probably already be there!

julie said...

Yah. Our house is probably not the place to come if you're looking for less stress.

Anonymous said...

My friend! Wish there was something I could do to help. Sigh. Hang in!