Spring is supposed to bring hope, joy, all of those good things associated with fresh starts and blooming flowers and baby animals. If it is supposed to be all flowers and sunshine, why have I been spending the past couple of days at the point of tears on a regular basis?

I really can't think of what is causing this, or at least pin down one specific trigger. Yes, work still sucks. There has been some movement at solidifying things at the top, but no one knows what that means for the rest of us. It's been a rough almost six months now, and it's only getting worse. I'm getting so tired of getting beat up for not getting things done, when even if I were three people, it still wouldn't get all done. My jokes about job security are beginning to ring hollow right now. I can't shake this feeling that my optimism about finally getting some sort of recognition for all that I have put in over the past several year was misplaced. That I'm going to end up in the same damn rut that I have been in for a while now. The work is still fun to some degree, but the sheer volume of it is beginning to tear me down. I have decided that I suck at being superwoman, and don't understand why I even tried.

Another thing that has really been bugging me is the fact that Husband has been pushing me to find a urologist to set up an appointment for the final snip. It makes me so sad to think that I'll never have another baby in this house, never get to feel those taps again. After all that we went through to get here, battling infertility and all of its associated demons, that we are just going to shut the door with such finality. There are all sorts of pragmatic, good reasons why we should stop here. There is the fact that I'm not getting any younger, and would be a lot closer to 40 than I am to 35 if we had another. My body didn't fare well last time either-my lower back is still giving me some trouble, almost eight months later. A third pregnancy with GD would make later onset an almost certainty. We cannot afford daycare for one more; with the housing market the way it is, while we could afford a larger home, the likelihood of selling ours for anything much more than what we owe on it is really a crapshoot. I know all of that.

I can't seem to articulate to Husband how or why this is bothering me so much. I know that all kids grow up, and that babies never stay that way. I know that. But, and I hesitate to write this, since I never thought that I would have the chance to, I like being a mom. I do. I really would like more. It was when Son was about the age that BabyA is now when I got the urge to have another. While the two of them are a handful, it just doesn't feel complete to me. I'm not stuck on necessarily having another biological child, although I have to admit that I really think that I blew it with both pregnancies by not stopping to just be in the moment, in the experience. However, that's probably a pretty crappy reason to have another child. Husband is dead set against any more, and since he has to be on board, I guess that I'm stuck.

Both situations have got me feeling rather powerless, like I'm being dragged along by the current, and I have no way to control where I end up. Like nothing that I do really makes a difference in the eventual outcome, because I've lost that control. Other people control things, and there is no way that I can wrest that from them. With work, all I can do is my job, and tell those above me what I want (a major victory in itself I suppose, since I've never advocated for myself before) and let that bitch called fate take its course. Husband is a force of nature, the tornado that you can't control, but that can rip you apart. I wish that I could make him see how hard this is for me. How big a role that infertility and our subsequent family has played with me, with how I see myself. Even though I use words as a weapon, and as a way to support my family, I always seem to fail so miserably when I try to get them out to him. I don't even need to sway him to my side, but it would be a relief of sorts for him to be able to honestly say that he can understand why I would feel that way. He has already said that he can't, and in his world, that's it. No attempt to empathize, or to try to see it through my eyes. Just slam the door and don't look back.

It probably doesn't help that I've been so tired that I could cry lately. I've been coming home, doing all of the fun stuff like dinner and baths, and then have been working for another couple of hours after everyone has gone to bed. I hate slinking into bed and having to cling to my edge. I miss just being able to sit and watch a movie, or one of our late-ish night favorites. But if I don't do it, the bottles will never get washed, the dishes won't find a home in the dishwasher, clothes won't get folded, and oh, that little thing called the job that pays the mortgage and everything else won't get attended to.

I've just been battling up this hill for so long without a break of any kind that I just have run out of reserves. I need a husband that gets me right now, someone who understands what I am trying to do, and why I feel compelled to do it, and can just support me. I need to get something, anything from him (that doesn't have sex as its ultimate end goal) that can help bring me back on keel. I just don't see it coming. He has to travel for work beginning on Saturday and won't be back for five days, so I don't see any downtime for me anytime soon.

I know that so many go through so much more than I do, have so many other hurts and haunting grief that they carry with them. There are times when I use that thought to try to put it all in perspective, and it just makes me feel worse for being so weak that I can't just handle all of this and get one with it already. If I didn't have Son and BabyA right now, I would be sunk. BabyA really has been my light as of late-she doesn't care what I do, just so long as I can hold her, and provide a binky. In return I get smiles and giggles and snuggles, with no demands. Son is very good at being almost three, but he also has those moments that cause me to wish that he would never grow up-just stay this sweet and beautiful boy. I know that can't happen. I also know that it's not fair to place the burden of providing emotional solace for their mother on them. But right now, there are times where they and the animals in the house are all that I have.

I just feel as though I am failing at every turn. I just want to crawl into a hole and only come out when things become manageable again. Somehow I don't think that is going to work.

Used Husband, free to good home

Yes, it's been that kind of day-already.

It really begins last night. Son has been sneezing and chasing a runny nose for a couple of days, but yesterday he woke up with a squeaky voice, which only got progressively worse. While it was sort of cute, I could see that this was going to head down a bad path. By that night, he was in near tears because his throat hurt. He wouldn't eat his dinner, and practically screamed when he tried to get some juice down.

Husband volunteered to take him to the pediatrician this morning, but not without desperate need to somehow get a medal for doing it. It is supposed to be warm today, so he first complains that he can't find a short sleeve shirt. Yes, they are in the closet on the left hand side. What about shorts? Yes, they are in the closet on the left hand side. What socks? Good grief-where they have been for the past 31 months of Son's life? By this point, I'm at the point of telling him to get the hell out of the way and just let me do it (which I think was the desired outcome). No, no, no he protests, I can do it. Finally, he heads out the door, and I asked him where Son's coat was. Yes, it is supposed to be in the mid-70's today, but it is only 55 outside right now. He's sick. He needs a coat.

What followed was a symphony of slamming doors and cars peeling out of the garage because they were allegedly going to be late. (They weren't). It was my fault that Husband didn't find Son's coat out in the back seat of his car, where he had put it yesterday. I was so damn mad at him I could barely see straight. I'm still ticked off. I do all of this stuff as a matter of course, just because it has to be done. I don't buy into the whole attitude that my chromosomal makeup allows me to have my act together as it applies to parenting more so than Husband's. It's just because I pay attention. Husband can't be bothered with the small details like what the weather will be like, or where the clothes go. Because, heaven forbid, he would pick up a laundry basket and actually do something with the contents other than just deposit said basket in front of me. Never mind the whole full time job thing. The job that needs a bit more attention than it is getting now-I need to do more than just tread water right now. I need to be able to show that I can handle it, but having to have another full time job at home on top of it makes me extraordinarily crabby.

Oh, and one more thing, since I'm bitching. He doesn't get how I'm wound up so tightly right now that I can't relax long enough to breathe, let alone be an enthusiastic partner in intimate encounters. I'm not doing this to punish him, really. I just have zero desire to do anything along that line. It took me longer this time to heal from birth, even though it wasn't quite as physically traumatic, it was just tougher overall. Two years can make a huge difference. Anyway, between the work demands, the pressure to keep things together at home, plus the whole downshift in attitude due to the happy pills, I'm just not horribly engaged right now. On top of that, when he comes to me right after the alarm, and I'm listening to the monitor for stirrings from BabyA, and to the room across the hall, it's hard to have any focus on the task at hand. He's frustrated, I'm frustrated, and no one is happy. I just want to curl up into a ball and cry some days. I just feel as though I'm stuck in a vise between everything, and it just keeps getting tighter and tighter, and I get more and more compressed.

Happy freakin' Monday.

Is this thing on?

Argh. ARGH!!! I don't know what to say, although profanity laden would be the choice. I'm not horribly fluent, so I'll spare everyone.

OK, here's the deal. NewManager took a leave of absence over the past couple of weeks, for no disclosed reason. He was supposed to be back on Monday. He hasn't shown up yet. The big hope was that, dependent upon whether he came in or not, we would finally get a resolution of this whole mess and be able to move on. Hire to fill the gaping holes, find some sort of relief from the crushing workloads.

Radio silence. From everyone.

I've been getting phone calls from other sites asking for a status update, since NewManager is at a site in the same area. I have nothing to tell them.

We were hoping to see something from OldManager on Monday, and certainly expected something today. If not a full explanation (oh how the theories have flown around here), then at least a status update. Nothing. In OldManager's defense, we kinda sorta filed a lawsuit on Monday, so he's been just a touch busy. The waiting is killing me. I just want to know and move on. This isn't like Christmas and knowing that the biggest box is for you and having to wait t open presents. This is waiting for your sentence.

Spring is a'comin'! II

After having a near miss with a lot of snow over the weekend (my parents got hit with over six inches on Friday-the school had a snow day for crying out loud), I found even more reassurances that spring is coming. It's been a very long, cold winter.

• my crocus in both the front and back yards are up, and some have even bloomed. My tulips are also poking their heads through.
• my tulips are also in jeopardy from the booming bunny population in the back yard. The neighborhood has only one outdoor cat that is of any use, and he's only into the occasional bird or squirrel, not Monty Pythonesque bunnies. If they murder my tulips or sedums again this year....(and no, my cats are of absolutely no use, since they are both declawed AND don't like the feel of grass)
• My neighbors the country club horticulturalist and golf course superintendent were out cleaning out their perennial beds yesterday. If they are out, then I can go out. Forget the Farmer's Almanac, I've got S and T!

However, not a single decent sized lake has any decent amount of open water yet. The opener is less than a month away. Oh, and our boat still isn't done yet. Sigh.

Milestone-I think

Today was a biggie for Son. I finally came to the realization that while he is staunchly refusing to be potty trained at home, he IS doing pretty darn well at daycare. Regular poopy and even more regular pee. Which is very good. I think that it has helped that he has moved to the group in his toddler room that is now preparing to go into preschool. Most of them are potty trained, so for this one brief instance, peer pressure may be a good thing.

So, I sucked it up and bought the gold-lined (not really, but has anyone really looked at the price of these things?!) Cars (tm) pull-ups (TM) for him to have at daycare. If he doesn't take advantage of them, he'll be right back in diapers, but I thought that this may be the kick-start to getting the whole thing rolling. Part of the problem at home is that he gets so into what he is doing that he doesn't want to stop and go potty, even though he can recognize that he has to go. I haven't been horribly good at making a point to have him try, but when he is vehemently denying that he has to go, I feel like I'm pushing too hard, and may be doing more harm than good. However, at daycare, he routinely tells them that he has to go, and then does. It's great in one aspect, because he's really trying, but also lousy in another, since he doesn't do that at all at home. I'm trying not to get frustrated, but argh! Somehow it seems wrong to have conversations involving long, compound sentences while changing a poopy diaper. Sigh. I just hope that I'm getting broke in with the tough one, and that BabyA will make it look easy. Oh please, let that be the case.

I've cut him some slack, since he very rarely, if ever, wakes up dry from naps or overnight. His body just isn't quite ready for that step. He's so darn smart though, that during his waking hours I know that he can do it. I should just resign myself to the fact that with this, along with all of the big milestones, he will set his own schedule, and that when he is ready, he will just up and do it. For now though, we'll see if he can pull this off (absolutely no pun intended). Cross your fingers!

Baby needs some new shoes

OK, so she doesn't crawl, let alone walk, but those little tootsie's of BabyA's needed some protection from the elements. Really. Now that it's getting warmer out, and she can sit by herself, she will be going out on walks in the big stroller at daycare. I wouldn't go out on a 55 degree day in just socks, so why would I ask my baby girl to?

So, really, it's all Stride Rite's fault. I mean, they send me the postcard telling me about the buy one, get the second at 50% off, and hey, what am I supposed to do? Son goes through shoes like there is no tomorrow, although now that he is approaching three, he has finally slowed down enough that he is no longer outgrowing shoes before they even look like they are worn. We are now officially on our third (!) pair of sneakers in toddler size 9. He also got a pair of semi-dressy brown shoes for his spring program at daycare, and for the pictures that I need to book sometime today.

Anyway, back to BabyA. So, it's not only Stride Rite's fault, but Husband's as well. We had to wait a good 15 minutes to get our name called, so by the time that we were done with Son, he was beyond antsy. So was Husband, who can't stand crowds or lots of people in a small space. The little store was packed (lots of people with my same affliction no less), so he and Son bolted as soon as we got Son's old shoes back on. In my defense, I had told him that I wanted to get a little something for BabyA for said walks, etc. However, it was his fault in that he left me unattended.

So, we finally got down to business with BabyA, who was being beyond cute-all smiles, and shy little head bends. First, we discovered that she has tiny little feet. Someone her age would run around a size two, maybe even a three (God knows that Son did). Not my girl. She's in a size 1-that's for newborns! Well, at least she has been saved from having her mother's flippers-I'm all of 5'2" but wear a size 9 post pregnancy, and I've got no inkling of an arch. Soooo, I got her these:

oh, and since I *had* to get a second pair, these as well:

I am such a sucker. However, the first pair were really meant to be. Really. I was hanging up some clothes for this spring/summer in BabyA's closet, and came across a pink, brown, and cream outfit that I had forgotten. The whole thing together was adorable. BabyA looked at me like I had lost it when I was beside myself this morning after I got her dressed, but geez, is she one cute kid!

Don't judge me. Even if I will never be able to enter the cute Olympics, my kids certainly can. It's just so much more fun to dress them than this two kids in three years body. Almost as expensive, but much more rewarding.

Spring is a'comin'!

Two signs of spring (three if you count that most of the snow that we got last week has disappeared):

• outside of the gate that I use to go into work, there are three dandelions in bloom. No spring bulbs, but the weeds are back. Hooray!
• the boat storage place across the street from work has now taken out all of the boats and they are all lined up against the fence, in either their shrink-wrapped white glory (yes, up here we shrink wrap our boats over the winter) or with their tarps all still firmly attached. You see, its the horse race track that uses the stables to store the boats over the off season, so soon we will see the horses out on the exercise track and walking in their circles.

Next stop: the fishing opener!

And the hits keep on coming

After receiving an email tonight, by the end of April we will have lost 30% of our attorney staff since December. So, let's see, how many people do I have to be now, on top of just handling my job?

1. I picked up my former manager's prosecution load upon his resignation
2. I'm covering for the contracts attorney who is out on maternity leave, and has accepted another position within the company, with only a 50/50 shot of her being replaced
3. We are losing our patent agent in the Far East at the end of April, so I'll pick up all of her agreement work and support for all of Asia, where we have one R&D facility, and multiple manufacturing groups in several different countries.

Oh, and let's see, in the past three years, I've had another manager quit, so I picked up half of his job, and then my partner in crime quite two year ago, which resulted in me picking up the other half of the manager's job. None of these people have been replaced. I don't know if I should cry, get pissed, or give up. I can't wait until I hear what the plan is now.

For some reason, the whole hiding under the covers thing is sounding more and more appealing....

If only

Just a quick summary of how this week has been going.

The slow simmer of a possible positive change in the situation at work has been completely obliterated. I don't know how we are going to emerge from this. My previous musings about finding another job were more fanciful than anything-I harbored the hope that something would finally click here and we could get back to being what we were-a strong, cohesive group that was making significant inroads to making a positive change in the company. I like who I work with, and the work is stimulating, but the environment is horrible right now. I'm not so sure that thoughts about leaving are that out of the realm of possibilty now. I think that I'm moving from fanciful to pragmatic and serious.

Needless to say, all I have wanted to do for the past couple of days is hide in bed and pull the covers over my head until this all passes (I hope) in a couple of months. For some reason, they won't pay me to go into emotional denial, so here I sit. It's beginning to take a toll on me, all of it. The insane workloads, the side conversations, the uncertainty of what hit we will take next. I'm having a tough time sleeping, and my shoulders are so tight I have to make a conscious effort to put them down instead of having them hunched up by my ears.

Husband for some reason doesn't get the stress right now, even though we have been in a similar place with him at other jobs. I just need a distraction, a hug, a squeeze of the hand. Instead, he gets mad at the situation, which really doesn't help me too much. His staunch refusal to even consider me getting a different job isn't helping either-I hate feeling trapped, but right now, that about sums it up.

This sucks.