On Men I Want To Punch In the Face - and some other stuff

So here I am again, for the second time this week, at home rather than at work, and feeling completely EXHAUSTED. My hormones have reached yet another level of crazy - although this week they seem to be aimed out our government instead of my Husband which is a relief. Still, my feelings of utter rage towards the PM's snarky-smug-rich-pasty-ruining-my-dreams-of-home-ownership face on the TV do leave us both concerned about the safety of our television.

I'm having some intense dreams, mostly about the state of the planet and the guilt I feel about bringing a new person into it, in it's current state of affairs. I even dreamt there was a public service announcement on the news saying that this generation of kids would be the last the earth would see because things had got so bad! Needless to say - GUILT TRIP! I am now looking into nappy recycling and installing a stand alone rain water tank and perhaps finding a way to collect our waste water for the garden and learning how to compost properly. Trying to plan my vege garden to be as effective as possible in the space we have, and even, perhaps, just being ready to go be survivalists in the bush.
Husband's not so keen on that one. Plus, as renters (he calmly points out), "probably installing a waste water collection system is not such a great idea." Husband says "we can do that when we own a house". 
"Own a house?!" Is my incredulous reply.

"At this rate the #$&*#??!!!! PM's snarky-smug face isn't going to let us own anything!!!!"

(It is a little infuriating, that two nearly 30 year olds with a total of 13 years of University education between them, who have impeccable credit ratings, have never failed a bond inspection or been in trouble with the law, who have both worked full time up till now with no kids, cannot foresee owning a house in the next five years, probably more.)

A lot of homeowners try to make me feel better by saying things like - but you don't have to pay rates, you aren't responsible for the upkeep of your house. True, but we also get inspected every three months, we can't own a dog, we can't paint or decorate, we can't put in the dream vege garden from my head, we are constantly planning to have to move, and we are paying more in rent, than we would be if we had a mortgage. I'm worried that our baby will draw on the walls. I am worried that something will break and it will be our fault. The amount of stress involved in a flat inspection is just not on. So yes, I still dream of owning my own house, despite our current house being a super awesome place to live.

Anyway, back to Baby.

I am flitting between calm belief that I can do this without problems, and then overwhelming anxiety that a) I will force us into an emergency birth by panicking and letting too much adrenalin and cortisol into my system. Or b) I will be a terrible mum. Or c) I have already ruined my baby's life by eating too much McDonalds whilst pregnant.

I have washed most of the baby stuff now, such cute clothes that I hope she fits. My new fear is that she will be 8 pounds of more, and not fit any of the cute new born stuff we have for her! The staff are running a sweepstake on the weight at school, which is kind of more than a little embarrassing.

Much as I love my job, and know that I will probably go crazy when maternity leave really starts, it's a bit of a relief to not have to be there sometimes. To have a break from feeling like a new breed of Hippo while I lug my laptop between classrooms, or go all the way to the photocopy room only to realise I've forgotten to bring the photocopying with me. On monday I found myself in the deputy principals office desperately trying not to become 'the crying pregnant woman', as I explained that I didn't think I'd be able to last until the end of next week, as the pain associated with walking (feet, back, hips, groin, sides, legs...pretty much everything), and the exhaustion of not sleeping longer than an hour at a time (night sweats, toilet, rolling over, nightmares), all combined with my overwhelming self guilt trip over my declining teaching standards as a result (lack of energy, lack of excitement, sitting down all the time) were all making things pretty near unbearable. He was super understanding and showed me that I can take time off whenever needed, and that everyone is in place to take over my classes from monday. Of course, I didn't mention about the douchebag male staff members making teasing comments (about my walk, my weight, my mood, the labour, the birth, my teaching) that make me want to cry. Of course, they think they are absolutely hilarious.

They are lucky I don't have the balls to actually punch them in the face.