We are moving to a beautiful house in a week, and Steve has a good steady income.  We are the most secure we have ever been and for the first time, we can look to the future and know what to expect. All of that is great and I'm so happy.  But tensions are rising regardless.  Currently the house we're in feels small.  Very small.  Sharing a room with our six month old who is an incredibly light sleeper is bloody annoying.  She wakes up at random intervals, then falls asleep again.  Her waking time is 5am, and we've got into a routine of feeding her, then Steve drags her cot into the living room, and we put her down in there, so we can have a few hours peace in our room (if she falls back to sleep that is).   Most of the time, Moons is disturbed by the screaming, so she wakes up and we can hear her playing in her room, but she's got into the habit of shouting for us in the morning.  Neither of us are sleeping well.  Well, I think the whole family isn't sleep well.  Then we're all stuck in this tiny space together.  Moons can't go running outside because there was building work done (thank GOD, they've buggered off - being woken by a power drill as well, and builders stood outside the window was really adding to our stress, plus whenever we wanted to go out, it seemed to be the EXACT time a truck was crawling down the drive).  Now its just kind of gravel out there.  She's been playing up terribly, she seems so tired and fed up.  Chomping at the bit, I decided to apply for some jobs, and I got some great feedback, even an interview offer!!!  But the fact is, I don't have my GOD DAMN visa, so really I shouldn't have started doing that.  I'm so f*cked off.  It's going to take for ever to get my visa, and I NEED some space, I want a career, I want to earn my own money.  As it stands, I have to keep asking Steve for some cash, and its driving me up the wall.  Moons needs the stability of a good preschool, she really enjoyed it previously.  She needs the challenges and the interaction (and the room to run around).  Pip is teething.  It started at 2 months, she now has four visible teeth and probably some more on the way.  She's really miserable and keeps chewing at everything and groaning like a zombie.  My ribs are still painful, so I'm walking around like a bear with a sore head.  We all just want to move into the new place, get settled, and I want to get the girls into school and my bloody visa so I'm not so stifled.  I can't even volunteer here!  We're waiting for Steve's next pay check, so I can't shop on trademe, I can't buy a bloody suit.  Grrr!

Silly little moans.  Still would rather be here than back at home with my parents.  Just fed up now. Feel like we've stopped again.