Thursday, March 22, 2007

what the friggin frick??

Hi, and welcome to this week's installment of "What the Friggin' Frick". Enjoy, and as always thanks for playing!

1. My husband (I still have not come up with a cute bloggy name yet, maybe soon) and I had a argument this weekend. I should say we argue a lot, but we love each other more. It makes for quite the conundrum. If anyone wanted to make a reality show of our marriage, it would be called any variations of the following:
a. When Total Opposites Marry Each Other: A Case Study in Insanity
b. Why Do You Make Me Constantly Bang My Head Against the Wall, both Literally and Figuratively?
c. Understanding your Partner Through Ill Understood Body Cues: How to Avoid Using Actual Words in a Converstation
d. Wait! I Love You! Wait! You Drive Me Completely Crazy!

Anyway, I think you get the picture. We are totally different, and I wonder how it will work once we have kids. Actually, I can't even think that far ahead.

Let me set the stage: He went and spent close to $200 on himself last weekend, running gear. He's an avid runner. I said not a word about this, because it's none of my business. We're adults, both gainfully employed, and I just don't think I should tell him how to spend our money. This is not a two way street. I mentioned that I MIGHT go and buy myself either this C.oach bag I've been wanting, OR (and that or is important) a pair of jeans roughly the same cost. And then, the comments began. "You know, Tipsymarie, we have credit card debt, and don't you think we should pay that off first?" (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) UM, OK, SUUUURRRRREEEEE.

I stewed about this all day, and it eventually erupted into not exactly an argument as much as me saying "We've been married for 4 years, together for 7. Please respect my judgment an understand since I'm IN MY 30s, work VERY hard, that when I want to OCCASIONALLY buy myself something nice, keep your comments to yourself please." Ok, I didn't say please. And it was an argument, complete with looking at past credit card statements at 2 in the morning to see just WHO spent WHAT.

Guess what? We both spend a lot of money on random stuff. Glad we got that one cleared up.

2. Cat pee. Turns out my cat, my sweet sweet baby, has been urinating not on the carpet, but on the inside of the desk my husband built from scratch. So, we had to get rid of it. I felt terrible for him - he spent forever on that desk, and it was really nice. But, my cat has always resented him from the moment he moved in with me. My cat would drag my husband's boxers and socks into his litter box and pee all over them in the beginning. So, I guess all these years later, he's still holding that grudge.

3. Why the hell am I spotting 4 weeks after my d&c? And actually exactly a week ago for two days too. And as of this tuesday, my beta was 7.

Dear horomones and associated dysfuntional parts, oh what the hell, my whole endocrine system:
Please stop being little bitches and do what you are supposed to. Stop making me call the nurse and ask her these questions, having to take her calls at work when I can't really talk anyway. Also, she is tired of me calling. So knock it the fuck off.
Oh, and, hey. One last thing. Making a DECENT FUCKING EGG. Yeah. I'm not asking nicely anymore. Because your performace thus far has sucked hard.
Thank you,
Tipsymarie

How cool would that be if it worked, right?

4. Man, work is pissing me off. But not the kids. Sure, they are frustrating, but they are kids so they have an excuse. No, it's the adults who act like kids with their stupid petty pettiness. Please people. Enough.

5. We have a consulation appointment with our RE next week. If his normal bedside manner is what he's bringing to the table, after all the crap we've gone through there the last 2 years, then we are taking my inches thick file elsewhere. This was not an easy decision to reach, you see, because he's written many books on my condition and actually answers questions on internet forums, which is how I found him in the first place. So, if HE can't help us, who can, right? But then I realized maybe he's not really what we need. Just because he's Dr. Expert doesn't mean he will be my expert. Know what I mean?

6 comments:

Bumble said...

Oooh, I'm sure that letter will work, I'm very scared and it's not even directed at ME! :-)

Adrienne said...

Exactly. Who cares if Dr. Expert wrote the friggin book? If he's not giving you what you need, time to move on.

decemberbaby said...

Oh, that financial thing is so familiar. We started tracking expenses and were both shocked to see that we're BOTH guilty of making large and unnecessary purchases. D'oh!

As for the letter... if it works, will you write one to my malfunctioning reproductive system?

(if the doctor's not doing it for you, move on. Just because he's the expert doesn't mean he's the perfect doc for you.)

Sticky Bun said...

Hubby and I fight like that too. Actually, I fight like that. Hubby is a peacemaker, or tries to be. But, sometimes passion breeds heated "discussions," right?

Hope the letter works! :-)

My Reality said...

I think you should go get the C.oach bag. He still got his running gear. You need the bag.

L xox said...

I know I'm 18 months late..... But that letter cracked me up and brought me to tears. I had a similar conversation with my broken uterus, and HCG levels that want to come down 1 by 1 by 1.
Nice to know I'm not the only one who thinks like that sometimes.
Starting from the beginning and hope to finish your blog soon. Am enjoying the way you describe your journey thus far. Am hoping I come across a happy ending.