Oh, internet, I was going to write you a delicious post about contipation. Not mine, Baby L’s. But then I just couldn’t think about it anymore. Because OH. MY. GOD. My head is going to explode.

There has been blood-curdling screaming. There have been prunes and Karo syrup and apple juice. And there has still been no poop. And somehow, I feel this is a reflection on my parenting ability. So, I can’t talk about it until it is over. Otherwise, I might just hurl myself from a tall building as punishment for sucking at helping my child to poop. (That might be the most ridiculous thing I have ever said. Right there.)

Other than the Constipation Marathon of 2012, MB and I have been talking about forgetting about this whole, living with family to try and save money thing, and getting a new place. I’ve said before that I never (EVER) wanted to live with family again (mine or anyone else’s) as I haven’t done so in 12 years and I didn’t really think that I would ever be able to do it with out severely injuring someone. And not because I don’t get along with people.  Well…okay, maybe some of that. But mainly because I like things the way I like things and living with other people, you can’t really have everything JUST SO.  And then you want to injure people. It just happens like that.

Also, having a kid and being a married couple is hard enough and enough of an adjustment for anyone, but then throwing in three additional family members who all function on different schedules and don’t necessarily ever clean up after themselves or cook food (This is totally hypothetical, of course.) and sort of just…do whatever? That’s a little tough for someone like me who imagined being a little more June Cleaver-esque when I had a child. (Okay, maybe a June Cleaver/Roseanne combo pack. But totally June Cleaver when it counts. But sometimes I am a sarcastic bitch. And that’s okay.)

I have this plan mapped out in my head about what my family will look like when Baby L is older. And granted, Baby L has NO IDEA what the heck her family life is like now, or that she spends most of her time on my hip because someone in this house is always sick and forbidden (by me) to touch her (AT ALL). She doesn’t have any idea that her mommy cooks dinner for five people every night who never sit down together and eat as a family. She has no idea that her cousin throws tantrums about every 30 minutes and is then rewarded with candy when he finally stops freaking out. So, I know this won’t impact her. But it drives me BATSHIT CRAZY, you guys. And it totally ruins my beautiful, picturesque family fantasy.

I must reiterate that I have NO ill will towards any of the people that live in this house and recognize that they are as set in their ways as I am. But when you have to do all of this adjusting at once, you might just lose it a little. Just sayin.

All of this has even gotten to MB. And that’s where we are. Trying to weigh the options. Trying to decide if we could afford, on his income alone, to get an apartment right now or if I will have to go back to work to make it happen. OR if we follow our original plan and stick it out until April. In which case, we will just hope that I don’t really snap and start setting fires or something. Right now, we are just letting it ride. And I am learning a lot about patience. And that, I suppose, will prove valuable when Baby L gets older and starts acting like she will burst into flames if I don’t stop what I’m doing and PAY ATTENTION to her.

Wish us luck, internet.