I'm loving work, much to my surprise. I love working with the babies most of all; being able to watch those little munchkins learn and explore just amazes me. I can't even put it into words... but then again, I realize that every time I've got the baby shift I don't get one single second to myself. Watching three babies kinda does that to you. And then I start thinking even more; I'll have to put the baby before myself for as long as I live. I won't be able to sleep in, I won't be able to just have a night to myself anytime I want, I won't be able to do something on the spur of the moment (the worst of all). I won't be able to buy things without having to decide if I actually need it or not... the list just goes on and on. My baby will come first and it's going to take some getting used to. But then I think about just holding him in my arms, watching him sleep, hearing his coos, seeing him smile, learn, the way he's going to come to me for comfort... it's all worth it. I still can't believe it's all going to happen by January. Didn't I just get pregnant? Heh.
I haven't so much as looked in my brother's direction since yesterday, I'm BEYOND furious at him. Have I not mentioned how he turns into a psycho devil at the flip of a switch? I have to admit that my mother's a bitch and does a lot of provoking, but my brother and she got into an argument over homework yesterday and my brother just went insane. Not one person comes into mind when I try to compare him... not the Mansons, not the typical abusive husband, no one. Anyway, being in the living room, I got caught in the middle of it while my brother tried to beat the house up in his anger. I don't know HOW someone can go so crazy, especially a 13 year-old towards his mother. I've been able to tolerate it up until now, but I've got a baby to worry about. A baby that can hear things outside the womb now, a baby that can respond to my stress. So I calmly told him to stop as he threw chairs and banged things within a few feet of me. Simple as that. So what's he do? He diverts his anger to me. He screamed obscenites at me, full of rage. He threw more things around, luckily not at me, he slammed the front door so hard that he knocked things off my bedroom wall (his seemingly favorite thing to do). I would have brushed it off until now but I'm emotional, I mean I'm frikkin pregnant. I broke down, started bawling my eyes out. I got so stressed out that I could hardly breathe and I could feel pangs in my belly. I went to my room and laid in bed, hoping it would go away. If I moved a certain way, I could feel the pain really low in my uterus, the way it kinda feels when you're just about to start your period. I was freaking out at this time, thinking my brother might have put me into labor. All I could do was cry... I couldn't lose another baby. My dad and mother got worried and wanted to take me to the ER. I was too emotional to do anything but cry. I told them I wanted to wait it out, see if they faded away on their own. It took a while but things got better. I can't tell you how much I loathe my brother right now... he's too fucking selfish and spoiled, far beyond help with behavioral correction. He could have killed my baby and it's not something I'm going to easily let go of. I don't know how much more I can take living in this house but I also know that I don't make enough money to move out either. My dad always takes everyone else's side. You know what he tells me? "Don't be so touchy!" Asshole.
Baby tee, STU scrubs
I'm listening to:
Will and Grace
It's too freaking hot