Warning. This is a bitch session.

It's been a helluva week. It started last weekend, really, when we did not find a house in Ohio...then I had the kids for 3 nights without Luke ( I was not cut out to be a single parent in ANY form), Sam got an ear infection on day 2, and Mayah has regressed a little in her potty training. So, between a screaming 6 month old who is in too much pain to lie down, a 2 yr old pooping in her big girl panties, calls from the realtor to show our house, which is a wreck, a kitty who is still sick, and no sleep for 4 days...it seems like it's all starting to pile up again. We found out yesterday that the house has termites...and it's had them since before we bought it, so either the realtor, the pest control guy (who certified that it was termite free), or the previous owner was doing something illegal to sell the house. We have recourse, but it will likely cost us more than just getting the house treated, which in itself is more than we have right now. The inspector came today, and reported that he was going to have to have a structrual engineer come to survey the house because of some cracks in the basement walls, an electrician and a plumber come out and inspect the wiring and plumbing seperately because the house is so old. Yay.

And then, there is the dreaded trip to Texas...This is what is really weighing on my mind. I wish I had a good thing to say about my family, but I don't. I can't wait to see my sister and her new baby...but the thought of having to stay at my dad's just about makes me want to throw up. Hence the previous post. I think since he's remarried (the day after I graduated from high school, which was 11 yrs ago), I have not had a pleasant visit home. This is not solely because of my stepmother...but there is just something strange going on there that I don't understand. Everyone's always on pins and needles, and any type of mess or "out of line" behavior is completely not tolerated. It's so strange. We cannot be comfortable in the house we grew up in, and we are constantly having to make sure our toddlers are not making a mess in the play room, and that they act like they really want to be around my dad and stepmother, when they feel more uncomfortable than I do. I don't know all of the details of my dad's life. My real mom didn't even know all of the details of his life...it's all a secret it seems, which is probably part of the weirdness of his marriage - who knows? I've stopped trying to figure it out. It just seems like whenever we go down, either we all pretend everything's wonderful and come home exhausted from the act, or we have a huge screaming horrible blow out! I prefer the latter myself, but it doesn't really do any good because the pretense will always be there, and then it all starts over the next trip around. My entire dad's side of the family lives in the same town, so that is why we continue to go down. My grandmother may not be alive for much longer and she has not seen Sam or my sister's baby.

I could have a skewed view, I probably do, but it's where I'm at right now. I don't know who reads this, so I'll spare them/you more details except to say that I wish I felt like he even wanted to see me or my children. I just wish I knew how to respond in a healthy way to the whole situation. I love my dad and my stepmother...but I want to be sane. I want to be real and honest and I want my kids to do the same.

And so...the stress of the move, finances, sick kids, and no sleep is starting to wear on Luke and I. I can't remember the last time we actually had fun together!

Okay...Sam is crying...poor little guy.