What a couple of weeks!

I have meant to blog several times in the last few weeks and have just not found the time/motivation to do it. So much has gone on!
Last Saturday my real estate agent called me and told me that my mortgage lender was ready to go through the short sale, as long as I sign a $20,000 promissary note. I would have to pay it over the next 15 years. That money could be a college fund for Isabella, or buy the new car I need, or it could be well spent in day care, diapers, etc. It is just not an option to pay these people that kind of money in this kind of economy. So needless to say, I am currently exploring other options and have seen a lawyer. I have another appointment with him on Wednesday. This likely will not end well. That's probably all I will be willing to discuss in a blog due to the nature of the situation along with my very hurt pride.
This past Tuesday Aaron went to work, just like every other morning. At 6:00AM my phone rang, it was Aaron. He called and told me that his car was pretty much fucked, that he was driving behind a truck and something fell off the truck and hit his car. His car made it to the side of the road and then stopped right away. So, I called work and drove out to get him. When I got there I just about died. In my head I imagined a F-150. No, it was an 18 wheeler. Apparently the guy driving the truck had his breaks fixed the day before, but the asses who did it did not tighten any bolts. Four of the bolts holding the tires on were completely stripped, and he had 4 blown tires. And the thing that fell off this guy's truck was apparently a part of his break or rotor, was about a foot long and about 4 inches wide of pure metal. Thank God it went under his car and destroyed his motor rather than through his wind shield and ruined his skull. A distance of a few feet is probably what made the difference between life and death for him. Not even being over dramatic here, if that thing hit him in the face going 70 miles an hour, he would not have survived that. Good Lord. I wanted to fucking strangle the truck driver, even though it wasn't really his fault I guess. He should have been more apologetic. He should have been kissing our asses. Providing he is telling the truth and it was a shop that did his breaks I know there is no reason to really blame him... but it was his truck that could have killed Aaron. I wanted to take a baseball bat to his face.
On the bright side, Aaron is fine. On the bright side again, I put rental coverage on Aaron's car insurance policy about a month ago... and thank God I did. He has had the rental since Tuesday, which we would have not been able to afford otherwise. I don't know if they have even started working on the car. State Farm is not sending an estimator out there to look at it until probably tomorrow. Not going to work is not an option for him, neither is it for me to not to go to work. Since we have no one here to depend on, I am glad we spent the few extra bucks per month on the insurance. I HATE not having friends or family here to depend on when shit hits the fan. But I digress, that is a whole different paragraph all together.
We have been calling our landlord for the last three week days in a row asking him to send someone over to look at the house. It was very poorly built and flies are able to crawl in and out at their convenience through our shitty, cheap, substandard windows. With a baby coming in 8-9 weeks, I am not cool with flies. Well I am not anyway, but I swear I am going to have a shit fit if I find a fly on my baby's bottle or binky. But I am sick of his bullshit and empty promises, so last night I went and bought caulk for the windows and door sealant for the uneven, shitty, substandard doors. It cost about $27, and I think I will subtract that amount from my next rent check and include the receipt in the envelope to give him the proof. Id that too ballsy? I think not. I think I am sick of this damn house. I think I am sick of asking for things and not getting them. I am sick of being fucked with. I definitely feel like a ticking time bomb over here.
The day after Aaron's car incident he was putting together and baby's bedroom furniture and hurt his back. So there the nursery is, filled with boxes, wood and other crap and most definitely NOT ready for an infant. It is stressing me the hell out! I want the room done! My baby deserves to have her room pretty and ready for her and there is nothing I can do about it. Aaron is working nights this month and is done about 12 hours for each shift he works. Damnit.
Between the car and the house(old house AND new house... PS there are several details I left out of this blog regarding the old house situation because I don't know exactly who reads this and who doesn't... ) I have been under a large amount of stress. Which brings me to the next dilemma. Since there is no explanation why it happened I am wondering if the stress has brought it on. This past weekend we have had storms, including some hail. Aaron called me at about 2AM and told me to pull my car into the car port so my car did not get hit with hail if we had any. So I went out there quickly, half running because it was drizzling and only one contact was working (fell asleep in them again) and I couldn't really be on snake/tarantula lookout. (They may not be in my yard, but I do NOT want to risk it. YUCK.) I pulled my car up and went inside to go back to sleep. I made a pit-stop at the bathroom and noticed a spot of bright red blood. It was about the size of the tip of my pinky finger. So no it was not big but it was enough to scare me. So I called the OB department at the hospital where I worked and they told me to come in. I was there for a couple hours and they sent me home saying everything was fine and they don't know what the bleeding was from. But I was not in labor, having had no contractions in the 2 hours I was on the monitor. The baby looked fine, I was fine besides being a little dehydrated. I had no ketones in my urine, which is good because ever since the gestational diabetes started I have had ketones. So hopefully that means I am on the road to having more controlled sugars and will stop losing weight. (So far I have lost 8-10 pounds, which the doctors are not happy about.)
On top of all this, the homesickness is just as bad now as it was when we first got here. It is not getting easier. Sometimes I think it is getting harder. Every time my tummy moves and no one is there to see it or feel it, it reminds me we are here alone and have no support system. When Isabella is born she is not going to know her family. She won't recognize her own grandparents when she sees them, not to mention her aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. It breaks my heart. I blame part of the reason why I am not as close to my family up in Michigan to being in England for the first few years, so no one was able to bond with me as an infant. All the other cousins were born and raised up there, and they are all closer to each other than I am. Don't get me wrong, we all love each other, I just didn't grow up up there and there is a difference. I don't want her to miss out like I did because she is so far away from her family, too. I feel like it is starting to affect me. I feel myself pulling away from potential social situations, which kinda scares me. Being a nurse I know the signs to watch out for regarding depression and I sometimes wonder if that is starting to happen to me. I have no idea how it couldn't really... I am isolated most of the time. I rarely see Aaron, and I never see any one else unless I am at work. And I am not particularly close to any of them. They are nice, but they are not my people. It's too different here. I want to go home. I can't say that enough.
I was on the phone with a very close friend tonight who was telling me about how it was so hard for her to juggle all the things she wants to do in her weekends, and how there is not enough time in the day to do all the social things she wants to do. I found it incredibly hard to feel sorry for her. Telling me that is like complaining to a starving person that you burnt the roof of your mouth on your sandwich. Oh, poor thing has so many fun things to do that there is not enough time to do them all. The highlight of my weekend was putting clothes on and going to Wal-Mart. I am not kidding. Well that and seeing Aaron and sitting with him for that half hour before he goes to sleep. That's when I get to cook for him. Yay. Not that I don't want my friend to tell me about her life, but damn. lol. I do want to hear about it. But hearing about all the fun people are having without us just makes me feel forgotten. But I wouldn't want people to not do things because we're not there. I don't know... I can't explain it. All I know is it is probably a lot of selfishness and self pity on my part. But at least I can admit it. I make no promises that it will change. Not till we come home again.
OK reading what I wrote is actually making me feel worse so I am going to quit while I am ahead! lol. I have to be at work at 5:45.... so I better get ready for bed.