Tired today. I'm 36 weeks pregnant. Also.

My dad has been visiting since the 18th. He's been really great. Ossie adores him in the only-Grandpa-can-put-on-my-shoes-and-help-me-brush-my-teeth kind of way. Sweet.

Oh but the house is not done and not going to be done, methinks, before the baby arrives. I'm really trying to be ok with this, to figure out what we need to get through having a newborn and a 21-month-old Ossie while basically camping out. Everything is still in storage and we've got no room for it now anyway. So. I'm just tired thinking about it. I'm feeling a bit forlorn, too--which is ridiculous I KNOW. Wish it were different, but that does no good a-tall.

I have asked that Jeff stop working when I come home. I know this doesn't get the house built any faster, but I think we just need to be a family these days. We've been struggling to push this big fucking boulder up the mountain since December and damned if we aren't close but I'm so tired. And he's so tired. And Ossie has been such a trooper and his life is about to change forever (well, mine and Jeff's too). So I want us to just chill a bit before that happens, to reconnect with one another and be happy again with our lot. It's been so. damned. hard. This has definitely been the biggest strain on us. I've resented the HELL out of this house project--which isn't fair since I signed on to the deal back when. I can't help think how I didn't know what I was signing on to (nobody did) and if I had known there's no way in hell I would have been all right with everything. But whatever. That's shitty on my end. I've been working really hard to get past that and to be an equal partner in all things house. Or at least as much of an equal partner as I can be given the ridiculous state of my mid-section. And my job. And Ossie. Jeff's had to work hard at being ok with me voicing my opinion about things too. Used to be, I'd just say: sounds good. Or: I trust you. But then that sucks because I can place all the blame on him when shit don't work out and that's no way to live. And shit has most definitely NOT worked out.

Anyway.

The semester ends on July 18 and mankind I am counting down the minutes until then. I need a break from teaching. I haven't cleaned out my office since May 2006 and, my friends, I'm messy every day of the year. I have the messiest office of anybody in my department and it's a little bit embarrassing. So that's what I'm doing starting on July 19. And that's all I'm doing until the baby arrives. That and planning out my online course for the fall. I'm just teaching the one class, yeehaw! Well, two sections of the one class. And I don't have to come to work I think at all. I'll be home with my kids (kids!).

Dear diary,

Do you want to know a big secret? We found out what kind of kid we're having. But we haven't told anyone because we weren't going to find out but then we were getting the ultrasound and just couldn't stand it (Jeff couldn't stand it, even. Ha!) so we found out. We've been acting since then like we don't know. But we do know! And I'm not going to tell you, diary. Sorry. Family secret.

Gah. I feel lame. This diary feels lame.

What I want to do:

Begin re-reading all the Harry Potter books in preparation of the new one because I am such a major and complete dork.

Finish watching season three of The Wire which has turned out to be the most wonderful and heartbreaking and just all around excellent show I have ever seen. I love Omar!

Get a car seat and a plan for this new kid.

Write down Ossie's birth story and any other thing I want to remember from his only childhood days.

Take more pictures.

Listen to music.

Talk to Ossie and Jeff in the morning before work. This morning I let myself be late and Ossie and I told jokes. This is his favorite one: "POOPY!" And then he holds his hands over his face because he is laughing so hard. Because, see, he's not really poopy. Joke!

Damn. I can't wait for these fucking classes to be over.