Morning - ish!
I got the results of the blood test yesterday just before I left work, 8,063 on Wednesday has risen to 14,689. Not too reassured as it's not exactely doubled to the 16,000 I was hoping, but it's not far off and at least it has risen. Plus, when you get to 6 weeks it can take longer than 24 hours/2 days for the hCG to double. So haven't really got the reassurance I needed, but until the scan, I'm going to try and be hopeful.
DH keeps asking me why I'm so angry and moody all the time. I don't think I am, but it would be understandable as he's being a complete twat at the moment. He was talking about dying before and I thought - that would be great, I'd have some peace and quiet, I could chuck out all the fucking crap that he insists on keeping and I'd be able to decorate.
Table in the hallway - looks awful and we don't need it, but because it was his mothers, we have to keep it.
House phone - one of the boys broke it and it no longer works, but he's keeping it.
Lamp shade - one of the boys broke it and he's decided to keep it at the side of the couch.
Fire guard - one of the boys broke it, it doesn't stand up properly, but he wants to keep it.
And if that wasn't bad enough, he loves nothing more than to completely pack a room full of shit.
The utility room - left over pain, coal bucket, endless plastic bags, shoes no one wears, hangers no one needs. numerous chemicals for the garden not to mention tools neither of us know how to use, water bottles and basically anything else he wants to dump in there. Stupidly I thought a utility room was for washing and trying clothes and storing cleaning equiptment. When the boys want to go in the garden, it's easier to go out the front door and through the alleyway to access the garden. To get through the utility room you have to go side on and take baby steps. Often you fall. Go help us if there was a fire. DH though, thinks there is nothing wrong with the utility room being like this. Oh he also likes to leave the washing machine door open to let some air get in it, then when you open the utility room door you end up smashing it into the washing machine door.
And whilst we're on the subject of doors, DH and his father lock them at all times of the day. So if someone comes to visit, the door is not just closed, oh no, it's LOCKED behind them and when it comes to leaving, it takes 10 minutes to find the keys before you can get out (this is a particular favourite of DH's father). Personally, I just close the door and when it's the end of the day and no one is going out and we're not expecting visitors, then I lock the door. Not that theres any point because next to the front door is french doors that you only need to kick to open.
The fourth bedroom, or as DH likes to call it, the office, which is funny, because he never uses it, he always likes to sit on the couch breathing heavily whilst typing as loud as he possibly can. I've never seen anyone get so stressed by typing. The faster he types, the more wrinkles appear on his head and the louder his breathing becomes. One of these days he's going to geive himself a heart attack by typing. Anyway, the fourth bedroom is also know as his bedroom, because when we moved in, he insisted he had to have a bedroom for himself (just like his father does - can you see a pattern yet). The room is full of old books that his father wanted to get rid of and DH has never read them and contary to what he says, never will. Endless photo albums of DH and his old girlfriends, a cheap and nasty desk, an unused/broken computer, overly big chair, paperwork, old letters - he loves keeping old letters and their envelopes, dead flies and anything else he can stuff in there.
It will be interesting to see where DC3 sleeps as we have the master room, DS1 has his own bedroom and DS2 has his own room.
So basically we live in a nice house that I stupidly waste all my time cleaning only for it to look like shit because it's not decorated and DH clutters it with junk that we don't need and haven't the space for. Left alone with a bit of money and a handeyman I could make this place beautiful.
God I feel like crying. Any other woman would have killed the fucker by now.
I'm going to have to copy...