So tired, so tired

Nothing new to report here, except that banana has decided that sleep is for the weak. She let me have a full night of sleep of Saturday, which was amazing, but then, decided I seemed to jovial for any more of that. I talked to my mom, trucker slut (it’s an inside joke, so she should hopefully not get too offended), and she said I was a bitch like that when I was a baby. Pay back is a bitch and I can’t wait until banana is a full fledged sleeping citizen of the world. That will be so nice, but oh yeah, that’s right, I will then have a new screaming small person to take care of. For those of you that don’t know the back story to this, here it is:

Crapstick is older than me by nine years and when we got married I told him I wanted four children of my own. Unfortunately, he counts stepson as part of the four, even though I wanted four biological children. So, the only way he was willing to have three more children was if we had them one right after the other. I, in my desperate attempt to always say yes to him, agreed. Luckily, I have convinced him that I will shoot myself in the head if I have one more child in diapers, so he agreed to waiting until banana is two and a half or three (please let it be three). However, at the rate banana is going with the sleep thing, she’ll probably have just begun sleeping through the night when another rowdy little person pops out.

So, there you have it. Oh, and people always ask me why I always tell crapstick yes and then, bitch about it later, and I’ve been thinking about this. I figured out that I am terribly afraid of being abandoned and so I think that if I say no, he’ll just leave. This explains the boat, the RV, why we live in this house (that he mother owns- just for those of you who don’t know me), and every other financial retarded move that you will hear about. I basically say yes because my abandonment issues pop up immediately, and then, upon reflection go what the fuck am I on. I have to start working on this before I have two horses, a house in a crappy state that no one wants, and whatever else crapstick decides we have to have in order to keep up with the Jones’. On a good note, at the fair crapstick wanted this pressure washer thing that was $60, but I thought it was a pointless buy, so I actually stood my ground and said no. Too bad this hasn’t happened with $60,000 purchases yet. I am so ass backwards. Well, off to go get banana because she’s hollering that it’s booby time.