Don't Touch the Door!

Am I the only one who sometimes wishes I could slip into a sleep-coma for a couple of days?  Just until everything blows over?  No?

Today the Kiddo locked me out of the house for the second time in about 6 months.  The last time my neighbor helped me pry the screen off the only unlocked window in the house and I had to crawl in through the kitchen window.  I decided that the extra key I previously only left with them when I leave town should stay with them permanently from then on.  You know, just in case I am faced with the possibility of having to break a window in order to get to my child again.  Then I gave Kiddo a serious talking to about NEVER TOUCHING THE DOOR when Mommy is outside and you are inside.  She seemed to really take it to heart.  So imagine my surprise when it happened AGAIN today. 

The irony of it all is just too cruel.  I dropped my car off for repairs this morning and left with the loaner car (A rather boat-like Buick that my granny would love).  I realized shortly after leaving that I had left my house key on the keychain at the dealership.  I decided that since I am moving in a week anyway, I might as well round up my spare keys.  I stopped at my mom's and grabbed that key.  Then I stopped at my neighbors to get theirs.  "There," I thought to myself.  "Now that's all done and out of the way."  I had that sense of accomplishment you get when you cross something off your to-do list.  Tonight I was talking to my brother on the phone and stepped outside to call the dogs inside.  A giggling little girl shrieks something about not wanting to let the dogs in and slams the door.  I don't get to the door fast enough and I hear the lock turn.  AAAH!  I have never given her a tutorial on how to lock/unlock the door so she just turns shit without understanding what it does.  Are you supposed to teach your 5 year old how to do that?  I've always just told her not to touch the door.  I guess in the new place we'll be having a little teaching moment regarding the doors.

Since I was now locked out and knew I had no backup keys to save me, I was forced to scale my way into a slightly open bedroom window.  Needless to say, I was immensely irritated and the Kiddo was sent to bed.  Poor little thing was really sad since she really hates when I'm upset with her and I was upset.  It's pretty scary when you feel like you CAN'T get to your child.  When I managed to resolve the situation without breaking a window, my fear turned to anger pretty quickly.  I wouldn't blame her if she was wishing she had locked the windows too the whole time I was yelling at her.  She curled up in a miserable little ball beside me in bed after that and sniffled until she fell asleep.  My baby.  Big enough to lock me out of the house.  

The car needs a lot of money's worth of repairs.  Part of me is grateful that at least I have the loaner car (I insisted on it when I made the appointment) and that thank goodness for once we don't have to scramble to come up with the money.  For many years we've had to scramble to come up with the money.  So there's that.  The pregnant hormonal part of me wants to scream though.  It's always something, isn't it?  We are  trying to shop for a new car so that our vehicle situation will be greatly improved.  My car (the one that is being repaired) will then become Jerry's commuter car.  Promising, but car shopping is only adding to the pile of crap I'm trying to juggle right now.

Moving is just this big disaster right now.  Not the packing part.  The notices that have to be given for all the utilities.  The final negotiations with the buyer.  What a mess.  And the packing part isn't fun either.

Some of my family relationships are also really in shambles right now.  I've always had a really rough relationship with my dad and it's all sort of coming to a peak where I feel like I can't be a part of the relationship anymore.  I feel like I have to take a step back until I can reconcile the father I always wished my dad would be and the father I actually have.  Because there's quite the difference between them.  Some of it stems from childhood, but truthfully most of it is from the last few years.  The way he manages to just NEVER GET IT when it comes to Matthew.  I need to stop wishing he will suddenly change and understand me and be more compassionate.  He just isn't.  And he never will be.  I could live with the disappointment for myself, but now it's starting to involve the Kiddo and Jerry and other family members.  I would like to find the time to write a post about this specifically in order to organize my thoughts a little.  I plan to write him a letter but I want it to be well-thought out and not bogged down by little things that I should let go.  Key issues only.

Hopefully tomorrow I can come up with something a bit more cheerful.  I am expecting a large shipment of maternity clothes and my doppler so it might be a good day.  I've just been feeling exhausted and really stressed and anxious the last few days.  Above my baseline, I mean.  A potent combination of moving and school admission stuff and cars and a seriously increasing level of pregnancy terror.  Ugh.  All my posts shall heretofore be titled "Ugh."