Breastfeeding is weird because all of a sudden Sylvia now likes to poke & pull at my nipples whether she’s currently nursing or not.
You know, I told him him before we starting TTC for Sylvia that I wanted to be working towards moving out, etc.. Here we are, 2 years later, & here we are, no closer to moving out.
I don’t know, man. I’m fed up & thought we’d be better off than we currently are.
Wherein I rant about my day so far.
How many times do I have to fucking change my mailing address on Amazon before they actually start shipping my packages to our apartment instead of my parents house?
You know what’s worse than a paper cut? A cardboard cut.
I’m tired of trying to get Sylvia to nap & then Cyrus coming into the bedroom & pretending to be a robot really loudly & then waking her up. I can’t fucking deal with it anymore. She’s tired & cranky & teething & I’m going out of my mind. I need a fucking break, desperately. I feel like I’ve been saying that forever.
Our anniversary is on Sunday & I’m not even going to bother getting him anything because he’s already made it known that he hasn’t thought up anything for us to do & hasn’t gotten me anything so fuck it. If he’s not going to put in any effort to make shit special, I won’t either.
It’s hot & disgusting out so we’ve been inside all day because I need a rest after bringing the kids to the pool for two days in a row, but it’s so tiny & cramped in here that I feel like I’m suffocating, as always. So, it’s either suffocate from the heat outside, or suffocate from the tinyness inside.
Every chance I get, I make sure to make Rob aware of how much I hate living here & I don’t even care anymore, man. He’s been working for my father for 4 years now, & he hasn’t tried to improve our living situation. Apparently, we haven’t even been saving money every month even though our whole purpose for living in this cheap shithole apartment was to save money. Isn’t that awesome?! I don’t even know how much money Rob makes or where it all goes or how much is left over at the end of each month because I’m not fucking privy to his accounts or any of that shit. Our “joint account” is really our “here Jes, you need to buy something? I’ll put a little bit of money in the joint account from my private account.” account.
TL;DR. Summary: I hate a bunch of shit & am in a really horrible mood as of late.
Sylvia has no interest in learning the crawl. She just lays there on her belly & hands, whining at me to pick her up.
Last night I legitimately had nightmares about Moffat’s writing & this upcoming Doctor Who season.
If I’m ever in jail for murder, it’ll be for killing Rob for him fucking muttering shit under his breath just loud enough for me to hear when he’s angry.
No, it’s okay Sylvia. I love holding you up in the standing position for hours on end.