San Diego?

We leave for San Diego tomorrow. By we, I mean Jen and her little bean Lily, and Ethan and me. She talked me into it yesterday, and what the heck? I'm just hanging out here anyways, and my sister down there is about to have a baby. I don't have a return date, which is surprisingly unsettling to this otherwise spontaneous soul.
I'll probably stay two weeks or so.
I miss Joey already, despite the nincompoo he's been lately. It's interesting how even the thought of being away can remind you how much you love someone, need someone.

Memorial Day.

It is perfect outside, hot and barely any wind. Joey has been doing yard work all day. I did just a little; weeding on a pregnant back = pain. So I went to the store instead and bought a couple of things we need for the BBQ tonight. I'm making Frozen Grasshopper Squares for dessert (oreos, mint chocolate chip ice cream and cool whip- YUM).
Yesterday we spent the afternoon in Graeagle. The forty five minute drive up gave Joey and I some much needed talking time as Ethan slept in the back seat. I felt a hundred times better by the time we got up to the mill pond, and I was thinking that this is just what we need: time to talk. I was hopeful that if we only made an effort to talk about our life and what is going on, we'd be OK. On the same page. Standing by each other.
When I told him how much better I felt after we talked about everything, he said, "I get sick of talking about it."
Nice.
Somehow though, I still feel better. I guess I am just going to have to sabotage him into hour long car trips every other week or so.
On the way home we listened to Journey, music that has become somewhat of a staple on long rides. On this particular ride home, I loved the singers rock, smokey voice. I loved how the songs seemed to fit the landscape of the long empty road in front of us, surrounded by huge hills and a never ending blue sky.
I'm forever yours, faithfully.

Valleys.

Today we slept in, after a late night of what has become very normal arguments. By the end we are saying what we always say to each other, phrases that sum up everything we hate about each other. The difference last night was the way it ended: no big blow up, it just stopped. And neither of us really cared. I closed the blinds, folded the blanket I had been using to keep my legs warm, and he walked into the bedroom.
We brushed our teeth and got ready for bed like always. I wanted to hug him, like a friend you call after a fight to cry it out with, but I resisted because I know this would have irritated him. Being all mushy gushy, lovey dovey after a fight to him is like a dog who eats their own barf, right after barfing it up. He just can't do it.
We got bad news yesterday, and the rain kept pouring down today. I didn't get a job I was quite certain I was going to get and our insurance has been raised again. Whoop-ee.
Through it all I pray God would keep me thankful--as I am walking to the recycle bins, God, thank you we are not foreclosing, God, thank you we are not dying of some horrible disease, God thank you for these flowers that Ethan totally drowned today with the hose but by Your grace look like they might make it...
But the mood will not lift, it's weighing on my shoulders, giving me neck pain.
I put in Jars of Clay, in an effort to turn things around, and tried to keep Ethan from seeing my wet cheeks when they sing, "I will sing of Your mercy that leads me through valleys of sorrow to rivers of joy," over and over and over.
I have seriously considered finding a name that means "sorrow" for this baby; it seems from the moment we found out we were pregnant, something we had been trying for, life has started crumbling all around us. I was thinking about this on the way home tonight; when we found out we were pregnant with Ethan, we skipped class and went out to breakfast. I couldn't eat I was so full of awe. We walked on clouds for nine months.
When we found out we were pregnant the second time we gave each other a dry kiss in the bathroom and I threw the stick in the garbage. Instead of clouds, we are trudging through mud.
I kept thinking this would change, that I would feel that same joy and wonder, so much so that I kept putting off getting down Ethan's tiny clothes. I wanted to feel the same way I did with Ethan when I hung them up for this little guy; the same giddiness and excitement, like being in love for the first time.
I finally decided to just do it, thinking the feeling would come while I unfolded the tiny onesies. It didn't. I had more emotion putting them away when Ethan grew out of them than I did getting them out again.
When I feel him move, I put my hand on him and feel sad, and hope he's not retarded.
***
We went to Costco and I think Joey slept the way there and back. I couldn't tell because he wears really black sunglasses, but he was his usual quiet, unless I asked him something.
Costco usually brightens my spirits. All those super cool things they sell, the bigness of it all, the free snacks on every corner. They were handing out half of a hot dog today at one of those tables.
On the way home Ethan wanted a snack, so I felt like a pretty organized, with-it mom when I remembered I had plastic cups in the back to put his popcorn in. I handed him his snack and off we went.
Joey realized I didn't strap Ethan into his car seat when he happen to glance back at Ethan standing in front of his chair as we were picking up speed on the on ramp.
"Pull over!"
"I am not pulling over on the freeway!"
I got off the next exit and Joey strapped him in. I said something like, "Ethan, if mommy ever doesn't strap you in, you need to say, mommy! Strap me in!" -- loud enogh so Joey would know this the FIRST time this has ever happened. I am sure he thinks otherwise.
***
He is at work now, it's dark and the crickets are chirping like they have all gone mad.

This Saturday Evening.

Saturday evening. Ethan is entertaining himself so things are quiet (but could explode any second, welcome to having children).
Speaking of which, we have three brand new babies at church. The bombs have been dropped!! They are all first time mothers, Lord have mercy. I prayed for them today.
Today was a good day. Went for a walk with my mom. She usually comes out here, to the desert of Stead, and we walk my ghetto streets. Today I went in town to her, and we walked Caughlin Ranch instead. The sprinklers were going and there were green plants everywhere, giving off that wet green plant smell. It's heavenly, if you know what I am talking about. Fresh. earthy. wet.
It reminded me how much I like to be outside, how I used to seek out opportunities to let nature surround me, overtake me until I forgot I was. Sounds pretty mystical, and I guess it was. It also reminded me of being young (hey, I can feel old at twenty-five, alright), and with Joey, either in the Redwoods in Santa Cruz or the big pines in Graeagle. It reminded me life wasn't always this tedious, this much of a struggle, and it gave me a small glance at a future that might give us a reprieve now and then.
I was listening to a talk show on the way home, and before it got so annoying I had to change the channel the host actually said something I have been pondering, on and off, all day. He was speaking about Mother's Day, and what we really want to be honored for. He threw out some suggestions, one of which was, "Mom, thank you for bringing out the best in Dad."
O God I almost started bawling right there on McCarran. I for sure have not been bringing out the best Joey, in fact, I feel like most moments I am successfully doing the opposite. So this afternoon I thought what can I do to bring out the best in him?
It's given me a new way of looking at how to serve him, reminding me that I AM HERE TO HELP HIM. To bring out the best in him.

Feeling the Squeeze.

I need a job. That's what Joey says.
I had been thinking about getting a job, a more part time thing, ever since leaving Schneider, but we just kept figuring I am pregnant and we should just wait until after the baby is born. I was also thinking I could use some time "off" from Ethan, with some adults.
But as my belly kept getting bigger, so did my hesitation, and I finally felt like I had settled into non-working, full time mommy-hood. And it was a good feeling.
Our plan was for Joey to get a little overtime, not a lot, but enough to keep us from financial frenzy. But he hasn't seen overtime in three months, and I think the pressure is about ready to implode him from the inside out.
When he first mentioned going back to Schneider, I bawked. I laughed and then I got really disgusted, and I basically said, "Over my dead body, buster." But by the next morning I had called, asked to come in to talk with my boss.
I put my make-up on like I used to, and the mixed feelings of confidence and nerves came back as I was preparing to leave the house.
I had some time between dropping Ethan off and when I was to meet my boss so I went shopping like I used to, to calm my nerves. I didn't buy anything.
I felt like I was walking into my grave as I opened the big glass doors, but I put on my most charming smile and walked in with my shoulders back and my head high, and my belly sticking out.
It was good to see the friendly faces of old friends, and I honestly went into my meeting with every intent to get that job back. But my boss is no dummy. At one point he asked me if in a perfect world, I would be working at Schneider, and of course I wouldn't, but the world I live in is far from perfect. It's the world a lot of us are living in right now, full of upside down mortgages and lay offs and little plastic cards that seem to have hands, wrapped around our necks, squeezing tighter and tighter as their balance keeps growing.
He's not going to give me my job back, and honestly I felt a huge relief as I left. I am still looking for something part time, early morning hours so I could be home by two, but in my heart I am praying that the overtime will pick up.

YMCA-YAY!

So I thought about it long and hard, decided not to, then wanted to again, then decided absolutely not because we don't have the money, and then went and signed up for a membership at the good 'ole YMCA.
I feel a little tiny itsy bitsy bit like before I was prego, you know, actually having energy, not feeling like a bloated, expanding balloon every second of every day. It is worth every penny. On top of this, Ethan's childcare is included. I can take him with me, we don't need to make an extra baby-sitter stop, and he loves with his whole heart the toy truck named Mac from Lightening McQueen. He plays with it the entire time, and he cries every time we have to leave.
I've gone everyday since I've signed up. If Joey is leaving early or coming home late, no big deal--I can go to cycling class! Or yoga! Or whatever!
So anyways. That is the good news around here.