I really should be cleaning the apartment. Playgroup is HERE tomorrow and right now, its not ready for company. I was cleaning until Marci got really tired, so I went to go put her to bed, and its then,in the still blackness in my room with no sound but the breathing of my baby and the wind on the windows,that all the distracting thoughts siphened into my head.

I'm so weighed down by so much lately.

~This crippling nausea
~All this continuing drama with my Dad
~All the changes that have started to happen

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First, the nausea. I know that I've complained many times before about this. But I've always been a whiner. It's just SOO terrible. It's made me afraid to eat because food OR drink seems to strengthen it. I am two months pregnant and by this time with Marci, I was already having problems with my pants fitting. Well, right now, I do still have problems with my pants fitting-but thats b/c they are falling off me. How am I suppose to gain weight when I can't eat? I find myself going to bed at like 9:30/10 just so I can get some relief.

I did get prescribed this pill called Zofran. It's originally for chemo patients, but it is used in women with extreme morning sickness as well. The only thing is, my insurance only covers 12 pills every 23 days. 12 pills only lasts you 6 days. 12 pills WITHOUT insurance are 500$! So its still confusing and doesn't really seem like a real solution.
BUT ENOUGH OF THIS RANTING!
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Things with my Dad are really tense. Things seemed to be getting better. I got this attitude of "its your life and I want you to be happy" and I was trying to accept Joy and whatnot. I was even going to email her and try to make things fine (since my Dad told her everything I've said! How awkward is that? That only made things worse).

And then he picked a fight with me on Thursday. I tried SO hard to shrug it off, and I was doing a good job (which was very difficult), but then he brought Marci into it. "You know, Joy and I were upset that Marci was here for so long Saturday night because we never get any alone time." (he watched her from 7:30-10 while I went to a play for one of my classes) First off, can I say that he spends the night at Joy's 4 days a week?? So I got really heated and said "Fine. You know what? Since she's such a burden to you, I just won't ask you to babysit her ever again." And in the calmest most casual voice he said "ok." The last four times he has watched her (or forgot that he was supposed to watch her), he's pulled shit like this. He used to be Marciba's #1 fan. Everyone delighted to watch him be the Grandpa with her because he doted on her so extremely. I've never seen him like that with any of his other 12 grandkids. He would call me and ASK to watch her. Him and Tia would fight over her! So what is this now? Its like from one extreme to another. And then he says "Well,Kate, your a mother and you have a daughter to care for,so if you think it is in her best interest not to have her see her grandfather anymore, then thats your call." He was so cold about it all. AND thats not what I said at all, and I corrected him on that.

The whole conversation he talked to me like I was some random person. Like he was my counsler or my sponser in AA or something. Totally disconnected. Not at all father/daughter.

You know, I can handle him putting me aside. I can accept that he has his own life and I want him to be happy. But don't treat my kid like she's second rate. I was/am SO incredibly hurt by that. I cried for an hour after we hung up.

I really don't know where to go from here. There is no getting through to this man. I feel like I don't even know him anymore. And I also feel bad about Joy. I rarely dislike people, but when I do, I don't want them to know it b/c I know I can get over it. And my Dad has not only told her things I said, but he has misunderstood SO many things I have said and relayed the harsher versions to her. How is that helping anything? Wow. I really don't know what to do. I'm at a total lose.

It's sad because I don't see our relationship ever being the same again. We were always really close. I was his baby. A daddy's girl. And I have my own life and I want him to have his own life, but I don't want him to change the way he is changing. He is disconnecting from his family and I'm wondering how much of this is her influence. It's no secret that she doesn't like big families. I have a feeling that she doesn't want to share him with us.

Sigh. I don't have anything else to say about it.
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And then there is the issue of my house.

My Dad is selling the house that I lived in all my life until I got married. Not just me, either. He's lived there for almost 40 years. So, most of my brothers and sisters' childhoods were spent there too.

The neighborhood is going really downhill, so I don't hold anything against him for doing so. It's still just really incredibly sad. I'm a really nostalgic person and I attach so many emotions to material things. Pictures, books, toys, this house.

My happiest memories were in that house. And my saddest ones.
-I was carried into that house by my brother Greg at only 4lbs 6 oz for the first time.
-I ran up and down the drive way of that house with my crimped hair and my grass stained jeans. We played tag, hide and go seek, faires, vampires, golden werewolf, my little ponies, x men, princesses, pound puppies, cops and robbers, and kick ball at that house.
-I layed on the deck stairs in the summer and let my skin soak in the sun on the earliest warm days of spring at that house.
-We sat on the front porch talking and laughing watching thunder storms at that house.
-All 22 of my Christmases have been spent at that house. Filled to the edge with people and food and crazy Italian family-ness.
-I lost my virginity in that house. To a boy with puppy dog eyes and shaggy brown hair. Once-mine Brian.
-My Mom had her anuerism at that house. Laying on the couch in pain and scared. I ran upstairs to call my Dad and smelled the sweet summer air coming in from the open window of my parents' room.
-I layed on the roof eating freeze pops and talking about boys with my friends in that house.
-Its where everyone came for holidays and barbeques and my Dad's cooking. A big back yard, the smell of honeysuckles from the terrace on the side, the sleepy swing on the front porch.
-My Mom died in the house as I slept soundly in my bed.
-It's my house. It will always be my house. I guess I thought my Dad would live there until he died. I guess I never really thought about the fact that it has to go sometime. I guess I never wanted to.

So, thats whats been on my mind lately. Hopefully I didn't bore any of you.