The Fort Worth Star Telegram ran an article requesting tips for people making the voyage to Waco to see the Magnolia Silos. I feel my expertise is valid since I have been in the Waco area for over 18 years; therefore, I have compiled a list for all out of towners who are answering the beckoning call of Waco's Mecca.
1.) Before coming please fully consider what feels like a compulsive need to purchase a selfie stick. Do you really need it? Did you know the purchase price of a selfie stick is roughly the same amount of money most people's insurance plans require for a co-pay when visiting a doctor, which is most likely what you will need to be doing after you step out into traffic while trying to get that group shot with the Silos in the background. *sidenote- a cart selling first aid supplies might be a gold making business prospect.
2.) Sometimes you will see arrows on streets with the words "One Way." That means you can only drive that particular direction being indicated. Well, actually you can drive the opposite direction but it's highly frowned upon. But don't worry. Heading down the wrong way with people blaring their horns at you in no way "marks" you as an outsider. People who reside in Waco have been traveling down the wrong way on those streets for years.
3.) Yes, sometimes a street does suddenly switch from two way traffic to one way. Don't know what else to tell you other than good luck with that.
4.) Yes, sometimes a street does abruptly change names. No worries. Eventually the street name you were previously on will pop back up- miles away in a completely different geographical area of town.
5.) The directional layout of Valley Mills, Waco Drive, Franklin Ave and New Road is confusing at first. I think once I've made it to the 20 year resident milestone I might have that finally accurately mapped out in my head.
6.) If you find yourself lost in the general area of downtown and see a converging SWAT team, don't ask them for directions. They are not conducting a drill.
7.) When you see the downtown bicycle lanes. . . yeah. I don't know. Just don't run over people on bicycles.
8.) The Suspension Bridge is a pedestrian bridge, the Washington bridge is NOT.
9.) The geese on the East side of the Suspension bridge are all hiss an no bite. Or at least I am pretty sure about that. I always run faster than the kids when being chased by them, so I can't be positive.
10.) Go and visit all the businesses downtown. They've just had their property taxes increased exponentially. They need your money. In fact, if you don't heed my advice about shying away from the purchase of a selfie stick, wait until you are downtown to buy one or two, or three. Otherwise, in a few years if you make the pilgrimage back to the Silos you might find several more empty buildings downtown and a bit more SWAT team activity.
Welcome to Waco. We are happy you are here. We will just be much happier if you will utilize the sidewalks and cross walks and stay out of people's clearly marked reserved parking spaces. Enjoy your stay.
Monday, July 25, 2016
Sunday, July 17, 2016
The Tentacles of Pokemon
The new smart phone game Pokemon Go was released last week and instantly swept the nation with long tentacles linking together all Americans with internet or news access. Opinions about the game vary from it being a wonderful way for people to get outside and exercise to it being yet another way for people to become detached from humanity and tethered to technology.
Warnings from all over the nation have been issued from law enforcement agencies urging Pokemon players to be aware of their surroundings and the dangers that might be lurking near them as they search for the virtual Pokemon characters and gather for "battles" against other players in the virtual world gyms that physically meld with reality. Law officers are both wary of the game and appreciative because while one unit may be answering a call about a robbery taking place in an area criminals set to lure oblivious Pokemon players, another unit might be answering a call about a player finding the body of a missing person or in one happy case, finding a child who had been missing for over 2 years. In the woods, not too far from her house, Sally Sams stumbled upon a child covered in dirt and acting feral. She called the police and they quickly discovered the child had gone missing in 2014 after wandering away from her home and had survived by finding safety in a pack of opossums. In the 911 call Sally said she had found a child that was hissing at her and requested someone come out to deal with it because it was her right to walk in the woods without being afraid. She then went on to explain she couldn't stay on the line until officers arrived and she had to end the call so she could contact Pokemon support because the game showed she had found an Omastar but once captured it was only Pidgey. She had to report the glitch immediately because it was a true emergency. When contacted for an interview Sally’s father explained she wasn’t accepting any visitors because of her overwhelming depression. Her call to technical support did not result in her recapturing Omastar although they did offer some compensation. Ms. Sams wanted to go on record as saying only, "That girl threw a fit and hissed and it got her reunited with her family. I did the same and all it got me was a few free game coins and two more complimentary Pidgeys. I don't even need Pidgeys. How can life be so unfair? You can find my petition on Change.org."
Law Enforcement agencies aren’t the only ones posting notices. Employers are placing signs in break rooms all over the country reminding their employees that they are getting paid for actual work and not for tracking down elusive Pokemon. And in what some see as a indicator of how far our society has fallen, notices imploring people to have respect, reverence, and restraint from stalking Pokemon are being placed in places such as Arlington National Cemetery and the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.
Pastors understand fully the frustration felt by those baffled by people's apparent inability to stop playing the game in inappropriate places. Bro. Edward Lansing of the First Southern Baptist Church said he has never seen anything like it. After seeing one of the deacon's sons play the game all through his sermon he spoke to the boy's father at the afternoon pot luck about it. "I was surprised that his daddy, a long time deacon, was already well aware of his son's behavior in church and shocked when the Deacon told me, 'My Billy can find Jesus anywhere, anytime he wants. He's only got a certain window to be able to catch that Jigglypuff hiding in the baptistry.' " Bro. Edward went on to share his leeriness about the upcoming Revival his church has planned. "I'm not sure if people will be coming to study the Gospel or stalk a Goldeen."
Not all preachers are wary of the latest fad. Apostle Frank of the Straight Out of the Bible Appalachian Missionary Church of God and Jesus is embracing Pokemon Go. "For some reason we've been having a hard time a getting young folk to want to be snake handlers here lately. This game is perfect for that. We tell 'em for youth group they are going out to play the Pokemon. We will even provide a phone for those who don't have one. Thank you Jesus for providing. We send 'em out in the woods and while they looking for Metapods and Squirtles and such we know God's a testing them with blind faith. There's snakes all out in them woods, you see? They be stepping right over a top of 'em and a' trusting God. They don't know they are trusting the Almighty- that's why we call it blind faith- but they are. And when they all make it back inside without any bites we break out the tambourines and dance just like David only with our clothes on. We don't want CPS coming out here again. We learned that lesson. We did lose that one kid nobody really liked when he got bit by a rattler. He was so happy to have caught a Snorelax and busy rubbing into everyone's face its rarity he didn't even notice the leg swelling. We tried pointing out to CPS that if we had been dancing just exactly like David we woulda caught that leg turning black in time to save him by laying on of hands, but government folk can be so fickle. I was able to turn it all into a sermon on pride at his funeral. When the Lord taketh he also giveth."
Along with people running into abundant wildlife while on the hunt for Pokemons one young woman has captured evidence some say of a mythological creature. Allegra Hanson snapped a shot of her Pokemon catch and within inches of the character is a large hairy foot. She had no idea it was even there because of her intense focus to find only Pokemon. "Like, all these people are yelling at me because I didn't even like see that foot or what it was attached to?" Allegra stated between sips of her coffee and frantic scratching of her poison ivy covered face. "And I'm like over here drinking my non fat, non sugar, vegan, cinnamon latte with extra gluten because I am totally rebelling against the shackles society has placed upon me? Saying like, 'Hello, People. Like, what the shizzle? I totally captured a Ditto, like a Ditto, hello? a Ditto? as far as I know the only Ditto captured, and you are all freaking over a hairy foot in the picture? As if. Like it's probably just some feminist or something? I mean, hello? I was totes out in the woods near what I think is a commune or something? My brother flipped the freak out and called his friend Samson who is like a crypto bot something or other? Now they are totally into finding it? Which it doesn't even bother to paint its toenails so like who cares right? I don't know? I still think it was just some feminist? Whatevs. The pink in this calamine lotion like totally brings out my eyes, right? I am totally blogging that it should become the latest make up trend?”
Samson Mayers, who majored in Cryptobiology, assured us that while he understands capturing a Ditto is indeed exciting it isn't nearly exciting as seeing that foot in the photo. He believes it belongs to a Big Foot. Since the cell phone ap captures all data he was able to research and see exactly where Allegra was when she snapped a photo of what he thinks is undeniable evidence. He has raised money for a finding expedition by selling hack codes into the Pokemon server of live data to someone who "crushes" on Allegra and will be leaving for a several days search as soon as he can find where his mom put his tracking equipment when he moved into his parents' garage apartment.
Like it or not, the game will be around for a very long time. The creators of Pokemon have already announced new features will be added and it will be released all over the world. When asked about some of the goals the company has for its game an anonymous source explained that one of the major goals, after making tons of money in Pokecoin sales to cover the injury lawsuits from people getting shot for trespassing or being run over by trains was to experiment with world peace. At first they will try making fight gym sites in areas such as Texas High Schools during the height of football season and only giving those coordinates out to opposing high school students. The hope is once the students see everyone is playing Pokemon they will take out the aggression in the virtual world and get along splendidly in the real world once they see everyone can get along. "If we can make those Texas football fanatics friendly toward each other and extinguish those deep seeded, rooted rivalries the possibilities are endless. We would then branch out to repair relations in far less complicated factions such as the Black Panthers vs the KKK or the Bloods vs. the Crypts."
So, Americans and eventually the rest of the world, have fun playing the game. And if you aren't playing the game have fun trying avoid accidents caused by those who are. If you live near any caves be extra mindful to stop for a moment to listen for cries of help of any players who ventured into the cave and lost all bars. Regardless of which side of the Pokemon fad you are on ringing true are the words hashtagged ad nauseam by every Pokemon player who logs into Facebook to share with the world their latest catch:
What a time to be alive.
Sunday, March 6, 2016
Epiphany Through Song
Pandora picked Richie Valens singing La Bamba as the first song to start our day after waking Abigail up. I am sure everyone knows it is physically impossible to listen to that song without performing it. I was looking in the mirror while playing air rhythm sticks when suddenly I felt old and defeated by the world. Rhythm sticks? Why was I playing rhythm sticks? Was it because it was all that was left in my once vast imagination. Once upon a time I would have been a dancer during the song. Using my own form of swaying salsa mixed with made up tap and tumbling I would be all over the stage causing the audience to forget about Richie and be awe struck by my dance skills. Then I recalled somewhere down the line of life, probably due to being teased, I replaced the dancing with playing air guitar. I would start out calm and in control of my instrument blending into the corner of the stage and then end up knee walking with my guitar bending over backwards as I played it over my head. I guess someone telling me I looked silly led to the riddance of the air guitar and me singing instead. I would belt out the words as best I could making eye contact with the excited crowd below my stage over my microphone hairbrush. Then after a while I suppose a negative comment about being off key or not knowing the Spanish part caused me to lip sync. I am not sure when I stopped the lip syncing and reduced myself to the air rhythm sticks. Where was the passion in my pretend play? I was just making a motion, marching in place worried someone other than the kids would see. An adult would make fun of me so I was keeping it toned down. But I looked at Abigail swaying with the music moving her arms nowhere close to the beat and I saw Jedi marching around in a dance that was a cross between the Hokey Pokey and Electric Slide mixed with a Waltz.
Suddenly it hit me. I refused to be a boring mom who picked up air Rhythm Sticks when I had a vast array of other choices I could use. I brought out the guitar and played while moving in circles and flipping my hair back and forth. It made me a little dizzy so until that feeling passed I began to sing, but my throat was dry from not having any coffee yet. So I transitioned to lip syncing WITH my signature dance moves. Jedi landed on the bean bag chair when I crashed into him so I kept adding my tap moves. Then I remembered that I was never the type of person to care what others thought. I had stopped dancing because it hurt. And because it was hard to suck in air and lip sync at the same time. And because when my dance move involved getting on the floor it was nearly impossible to get back up.
I took one last look into the room as I walked away. Richie was still singing and the kids were still dancing, oblivious that Mom had walked off the stage. I headed for the medicine cabinet to find the Ibuprofen vowing I would exercise more and eat less starting now. Well,. . . starting after my stash of Cadbury eggs hidden in the medicine cabinet is depleted.
Suddenly it hit me. I refused to be a boring mom who picked up air Rhythm Sticks when I had a vast array of other choices I could use. I brought out the guitar and played while moving in circles and flipping my hair back and forth. It made me a little dizzy so until that feeling passed I began to sing, but my throat was dry from not having any coffee yet. So I transitioned to lip syncing WITH my signature dance moves. Jedi landed on the bean bag chair when I crashed into him so I kept adding my tap moves. Then I remembered that I was never the type of person to care what others thought. I had stopped dancing because it hurt. And because it was hard to suck in air and lip sync at the same time. And because when my dance move involved getting on the floor it was nearly impossible to get back up.
I took one last look into the room as I walked away. Richie was still singing and the kids were still dancing, oblivious that Mom had walked off the stage. I headed for the medicine cabinet to find the Ibuprofen vowing I would exercise more and eat less starting now. Well,. . . starting after my stash of Cadbury eggs hidden in the medicine cabinet is depleted.
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
The Climb
Today should have been Whataburger Wednesday, but against my better judgement I relented to Jedi's request to go to "Ol' McDonald's." It almost killed me.
Since it looked cleaner outside than inside we took his food to the empty playground. He ate and then told me he loved me. Then he asked to climb up the playground gym. I reminded him that the last time he tried he was scared and his cousin had to go after him. We had no cousins with us. He promised he could go to the top and slide down all by himself. He had changed since that last time. He had the hiccups earlier and I told him myself it was because he was having a growth spurt so he knew he was bigger and he could do it. Again, I relented. I watched in amazement as he easily scrambled up like a billy goat and was confused for a few minutes because his laughs so quickly changed to cries when he reached the top.
I had to rescue him. It had to be at least 20 feet up. It was high enough for me to remember I hate heights, so maybe it was 100 feet. I was going to have to do 150 feet of climbing up those stupid platforms with my purse tied around me like a fanny pack. I am sure it was my 2" thick purse that was causing me to yank my wedged backside out of each platform space to move on to the next. Then at the top of 200 feet I had to ignore all the Grackle poop that Jedi had clearly already belly crawled through in his terrified state of being stuck so high up. After pleading with him to go down the slide because sliding down the corkscrew tunnel 250 feet up in the air was way easier than climbing down the platforms that clearly weren't made for ladies carrying purses, it was his turn to relent. So after I pried his sweet little hands that had turned into a suffocating vise off of my neck and I could breathe again I sat him on my lap and moved his statue like body around telling him it would be less scary if he could see where he was going. (It would be less scary if he didn't see me make the sign of the cross and beg God not tolet me get stuck going down not to let my purse get us stuck going down.) Then after a deep breath and rearranging my purse strap over my shoulder which reminded me to grab my phone just in case I had to call 911 because God didn't listen to my prayer I lifted my feet and remembered I am afraid of enclosed spaces way more than I am heights.
It was too late to go back so I pushed off. Jedi reached back behind him and with those pudgy little cherub vise grips grabbed the first part of my body he could which was my neck again. I've gone down corkscrew slides before and moved slowly. So slowly I wanted to scream because I thought I would be stuck. I heard myself screaming. This time because of the complete opposite of moving slowly and the static electricity shocks, and because I saw Jedi hit his head again and again with each turn, and because I couldn't breathe. It wasn't Jedi's vise grip. His hands were now squeaking down the sides as he tried to stop us. Oh God, I couldn't breathe. Was this a punishment for making the sign of the cross when I'm not Catholic? I'm sorry Jesus. So sorry. The dark enclosure was too much and I knew we had at least 300 more feet to go because we weren't even half way through. I was going to die. Still screaming, but noticing Jedi had stopped I opened my eyes to check on my baby boy. There was sunlight. There was no more motion. We were at the bottom and had lost all momentum. I still couldn't breathe because my purse strap was now around my neck pulling. Gravity is a mysterious thing.
With all the dignity I could muster I helped Jedi down to the ground shocking him at least two more times. Then I stood up and could feel the static cling all over my body. I adjusted my purse while feeling my hair standing on end like I was a cartoon character who had just stuck a fork into a wall outlet. I was alive. Feeling grateful for another day of beauty surrounding me I brushed the bird poop off both our bottoms and told Jedi to get his boots so we could leave.
After he stomped on his boots I heard his sweet little , "Mommy?" I looked at my baby boy expecting to see my awesomeness in his eyes. I was going to tell him he didn't have to thank me. That's just what Mommies do.
He told me the next time I climb up there he wasn't going to help me get down again.
He told me I was holding his hand too hard as we marched out.
I asked him if it felt like a vise.
Since it looked cleaner outside than inside we took his food to the empty playground. He ate and then told me he loved me. Then he asked to climb up the playground gym. I reminded him that the last time he tried he was scared and his cousin had to go after him. We had no cousins with us. He promised he could go to the top and slide down all by himself. He had changed since that last time. He had the hiccups earlier and I told him myself it was because he was having a growth spurt so he knew he was bigger and he could do it. Again, I relented. I watched in amazement as he easily scrambled up like a billy goat and was confused for a few minutes because his laughs so quickly changed to cries when he reached the top.
I had to rescue him. It had to be at least 20 feet up. It was high enough for me to remember I hate heights, so maybe it was 100 feet. I was going to have to do 150 feet of climbing up those stupid platforms with my purse tied around me like a fanny pack. I am sure it was my 2" thick purse that was causing me to yank my wedged backside out of each platform space to move on to the next. Then at the top of 200 feet I had to ignore all the Grackle poop that Jedi had clearly already belly crawled through in his terrified state of being stuck so high up. After pleading with him to go down the slide because sliding down the corkscrew tunnel 250 feet up in the air was way easier than climbing down the platforms that clearly weren't made for ladies carrying purses, it was his turn to relent. So after I pried his sweet little hands that had turned into a suffocating vise off of my neck and I could breathe again I sat him on my lap and moved his statue like body around telling him it would be less scary if he could see where he was going. (It would be less scary if he didn't see me make the sign of the cross and beg God not to
It was too late to go back so I pushed off. Jedi reached back behind him and with those pudgy little cherub vise grips grabbed the first part of my body he could which was my neck again. I've gone down corkscrew slides before and moved slowly. So slowly I wanted to scream because I thought I would be stuck. I heard myself screaming. This time because of the complete opposite of moving slowly and the static electricity shocks, and because I saw Jedi hit his head again and again with each turn, and because I couldn't breathe. It wasn't Jedi's vise grip. His hands were now squeaking down the sides as he tried to stop us. Oh God, I couldn't breathe. Was this a punishment for making the sign of the cross when I'm not Catholic? I'm sorry Jesus. So sorry. The dark enclosure was too much and I knew we had at least 300 more feet to go because we weren't even half way through. I was going to die. Still screaming, but noticing Jedi had stopped I opened my eyes to check on my baby boy. There was sunlight. There was no more motion. We were at the bottom and had lost all momentum. I still couldn't breathe because my purse strap was now around my neck pulling. Gravity is a mysterious thing.
With all the dignity I could muster I helped Jedi down to the ground shocking him at least two more times. Then I stood up and could feel the static cling all over my body. I adjusted my purse while feeling my hair standing on end like I was a cartoon character who had just stuck a fork into a wall outlet. I was alive. Feeling grateful for another day of beauty surrounding me I brushed the bird poop off both our bottoms and told Jedi to get his boots so we could leave.
After he stomped on his boots I heard his sweet little , "Mommy?" I looked at my baby boy expecting to see my awesomeness in his eyes. I was going to tell him he didn't have to thank me. That's just what Mommies do.
He told me the next time I climb up there he wasn't going to help me get down again.
He told me I was holding his hand too hard as we marched out.
I asked him if it felt like a vise.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Random thoughts at the grocery store:
I wish I could get some award for my uncanny knack of knowing which people in the parking lot are going to head straight to the liquor aisle once inside.
Yeah. That's right. I am one of those people who will dig through multiple packs of paper towels to find the design I want, Miss Huffer Pufferton behind me. Go around me before I start throwing the packs I don't want at your head.
Keep walking. Don't stop at the Cadbury eggs
I curse you GW Bush for making me buy these stupid swirly mercury laden light bulbs that cause more shadows than emit light. If I wanted my house to cast the dingy glow of a bar I'd, I don't know go to a bar. I wonder how many bars of soap I have left at home.
Ignore that second display of Cadbury eggs.
Let's see how many people I can cause to race to the checkout line by acting like that's where I'm heading after looking them in the eye. Dang. She's fast for a little old lady. Mean, too.
Are you freakin serious? How many Cadbury egg displays are necessary?
Kombucha tea on clearance for one dollar? Score. I don't even like Kombucha but it's a dollar.
Walk away from the Cadbury eggs.
Kombucha. Komboooooocha. Kombububububububchachacha. Komoooooooooobucha. Koma Koma Koma Kombooochaaaa. Ohhhhhh the Kombucha. "Kombucha cha cha cha" Oh crap. I wonder how long I've been saying that out loud without realizing it.
This kid has been darting in front of me the whole time. One more time, little brat. One more time and I'm pretending not to see you and taking you down. "Oops. Sorry. I didn't see you there. Are you okay, Sweetie. Bless your heart." That. was. epic. Kombooooya!
Why do I always pick the line where somebody can't operate the credit card machine? Have mercy. Why doesn't the cashier just do it for her instead of repeating "try it again"?
Coupons! I forgot the coupons. But that's okay because I'm saving money on the Kombucha. Oh. Komabucha, Komobucha. Where for art thou, Komabucha. Komabuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu STOP THAT! Don't start it up again.
I deserve an award for not using the baggers to take my groceries. They are always so busy. I am such a kind soul always looking out for the welfare of others.
I can't believe that twit is using help out to her car when she knows that means the elderly lady behind her will now have to wait for help because Miss I can't break a nail is entitled to help with her 4 bags. Wait a minute that's the Huffer Pufferton paper towel lady. I hope she has a flat.
Hey! It's the liquor dude again. Wonder if he finished his 40 malt and is going back for another? "'Sup, dude?"
Suckers! I'm done with my shopping, pulling out of the parking lot and you losers are just getting started. Komboooya!
I would pay someone to bring in the groceries and put them away. Then she could tell me where in Sam Hill I am supposed to put all this Kombucha tea?
I should have gotten that Cadbury egg. . . Or a 40 malt.
Hey. The Kombucha tastes a little like a 40 malt would. Kombucha cha cah cha. Kombucha Tea. Like a 40 malt only without the hangover. Oh you'll still puke after drinking it but no hangover and no need to hide it in one of those brown paper bags that announces HEY! I'm drinking a 40 malt but shhhhhh. Nobody knows it. But wait. Call now and get TWO Kombucha teas for the price of one. Just pay an additional and ungodly shipping/handling fee and it's free.
I'm going to have to go back for a Cadbury egg. Is it worth the gas to get there?
Kumbetcha. cha cha cha
I wish I could get some award for my uncanny knack of knowing which people in the parking lot are going to head straight to the liquor aisle once inside.
Yeah. That's right. I am one of those people who will dig through multiple packs of paper towels to find the design I want, Miss Huffer Pufferton behind me. Go around me before I start throwing the packs I don't want at your head.
Keep walking. Don't stop at the Cadbury eggs
I curse you GW Bush for making me buy these stupid swirly mercury laden light bulbs that cause more shadows than emit light. If I wanted my house to cast the dingy glow of a bar I'd, I don't know go to a bar. I wonder how many bars of soap I have left at home.
Ignore that second display of Cadbury eggs.
Let's see how many people I can cause to race to the checkout line by acting like that's where I'm heading after looking them in the eye. Dang. She's fast for a little old lady. Mean, too.
Are you freakin serious? How many Cadbury egg displays are necessary?
Kombucha tea on clearance for one dollar? Score. I don't even like Kombucha but it's a dollar.
Walk away from the Cadbury eggs.
Kombucha. Komboooooocha. Kombububububububchachacha. Komoooooooooobucha. Koma Koma Koma Kombooochaaaa. Ohhhhhh the Kombucha. "Kombucha cha cha cha" Oh crap. I wonder how long I've been saying that out loud without realizing it.
This kid has been darting in front of me the whole time. One more time, little brat. One more time and I'm pretending not to see you and taking you down. "Oops. Sorry. I didn't see you there. Are you okay, Sweetie. Bless your heart." That. was. epic. Kombooooya!
Why do I always pick the line where somebody can't operate the credit card machine? Have mercy. Why doesn't the cashier just do it for her instead of repeating "try it again"?
Coupons! I forgot the coupons. But that's okay because I'm saving money on the Kombucha. Oh. Komabucha, Komobucha. Where for art thou, Komabucha. Komabuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu STOP THAT! Don't start it up again.
I deserve an award for not using the baggers to take my groceries. They are always so busy. I am such a kind soul always looking out for the welfare of others.
I can't believe that twit is using help out to her car when she knows that means the elderly lady behind her will now have to wait for help because Miss I can't break a nail is entitled to help with her 4 bags. Wait a minute that's the Huffer Pufferton paper towel lady. I hope she has a flat.
Hey! It's the liquor dude again. Wonder if he finished his 40 malt and is going back for another? "'Sup, dude?"
Suckers! I'm done with my shopping, pulling out of the parking lot and you losers are just getting started. Komboooya!
I would pay someone to bring in the groceries and put them away. Then she could tell me where in Sam Hill I am supposed to put all this Kombucha tea?
I should have gotten that Cadbury egg. . . Or a 40 malt.
Hey. The Kombucha tastes a little like a 40 malt would. Kombucha cha cah cha. Kombucha Tea. Like a 40 malt only without the hangover. Oh you'll still puke after drinking it but no hangover and no need to hide it in one of those brown paper bags that announces HEY! I'm drinking a 40 malt but shhhhhh. Nobody knows it. But wait. Call now and get TWO Kombucha teas for the price of one. Just pay an additional and ungodly shipping/handling fee and it's free.
I'm going to have to go back for a Cadbury egg. Is it worth the gas to get there?
Kumbetcha. cha cha cha
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Plumbers and PVP
Jason was deep into his computer game last week when there was a small issue with the function of the toilet. One glance at Jason watching his screen intently and pushing the buttons on his keyboard with brute force told me if I wanted the toilet fixed quickly, I'd have to do it myself. I knew he was playing the game in PVP mode not because I can figure out what is happening on the screen but because his PVP game face was on. The look of deep concentration he had, the sound of gunfire and engine roars filling the living room and his mutterings at the screen told me he was in pretty deep. I'm not sure what PVP mode is, but when he's in it he can't just pause the game. I know this because he's ignored me many times when I try to talk to him while he's playing. Then after I've given him the hurt feelings silent treatment for so long that I forget I was giving him the silent treatment he will turn away from the computer suddenly and with predictable exasperation explain that while he is in PVP mode he can't just pause the game. Then after asking me what it was I wanted he sighs at the confused look on my face because usually by then I've already dealt with the issue myself or realized it wasn't that important anyway or completely forgot what it was that I wanted. I wasn't in the mood to deploy the silent treatment and there was no real emergency so I let him be and went to the bathroom to assess the situation more completely.
The toilet was dripping water around the flusher handle. After lifting the top off the tank and noisily nearly dropping it on my foot I flushed it a few times (which can be heard from Jason's desk) and proclaimed loudly (but in a manner that made it sound like I was talking to myself) that the tank was filling too full and overflowing to an area where it could seep out. Then after flushing it several times in a row I confirmed my diagnosis by saying (again loudly) "Yep. That's what it is all right. I just need to get the floater adjusted so it won't fill so fully." . . . (pause for dramatic effect) Hearing only the sounds of light sabers in combat and Jason muttering exclamations directed to a team member's poor performance in the game I proceeded. After several traipses through the house that took me right behind Jason's desk I began searching for tools. To get to the tools I needed I had to sort through tools that make alot of clanking sounds when one picks them up high and drops them back down, but eventually I had everything I needed to adjust the floater. Several more flushes, some important, loud mutterings of my own, a few tweaks with the pliers, an odd cracking sound coming from the pump looking thingy as it made a strange jerking motion and the repair was done. A few more flushes to make sure the tank was filling to the proper level, a loud porcelain clank as the tank lid hit the tank a little too forcefully, very audible footsteps as I walked behind Jason again, another clank as I tossed a tool back into its spot, a clatter as I rattled a few other tools, followed by the clapping of my hands as I brushed them together while bragging, "Man! I should've been a plumber." and I was done. I plopped down on the couch a few feet away from the gaming action with a sigh so loud it nearly made me hoarse.
Fast forward to today. Jason noticed a major leak coming from the bottom of the tank where the little pump looking thingy is connected. He went to his tools and I took note that I must have used the right ones in my repair because he made the same choices of tools. He headed into the bathroom and after a few seconds and sighs he said he was going to Lowes. He came back. He left again for Lowes. He came back. He started out the door again and I asked him to get one of those foam interlocking floor mats for Jedi since he was already going to Lowes. He came back, connected the new floor mat, went back into the bathroom for a while, came back out, victoriously held his hands high and proclaimed, "I should've been a plumber!" I told him that was funny because that was the same thing I said when I fixed it. His hands immediately came down and he asked when had I fixed it. Always quick on my feet I told him it was a while back ago. He sat down at his computer and I waited until he was in PVP mode before I mumbled quietly that there was a tiny possibility that I might have been the cause of the major leak when I fixed the minor one.
Later I went to the bathroom and noticed it was leaking again. I had a tumultuous internal debate for a while as to whether I should tell him. I decided I would let him find it himself and give him a few more moments of PVP stress relief. He found it while I was giving Abigail her lunch, got his tools and took a fussy Jedi into the bathroom with him. He fixed it with just a few tweaks of the pliers. Jedi got to see his Daddy fix something with a really cool tool and I got an excellent picture of the two men of the house saving the day by fixing the toilet. Just think if I hadn't have fixed the minor leak we wouldn't have had the major one that gave us a special family moment.
Yep. I should've been a plumber.
The toilet was dripping water around the flusher handle. After lifting the top off the tank and noisily nearly dropping it on my foot I flushed it a few times (which can be heard from Jason's desk) and proclaimed loudly (but in a manner that made it sound like I was talking to myself) that the tank was filling too full and overflowing to an area where it could seep out. Then after flushing it several times in a row I confirmed my diagnosis by saying (again loudly) "Yep. That's what it is all right. I just need to get the floater adjusted so it won't fill so fully." . . . (pause for dramatic effect) Hearing only the sounds of light sabers in combat and Jason muttering exclamations directed to a team member's poor performance in the game I proceeded. After several traipses through the house that took me right behind Jason's desk I began searching for tools. To get to the tools I needed I had to sort through tools that make alot of clanking sounds when one picks them up high and drops them back down, but eventually I had everything I needed to adjust the floater. Several more flushes, some important, loud mutterings of my own, a few tweaks with the pliers, an odd cracking sound coming from the pump looking thingy as it made a strange jerking motion and the repair was done. A few more flushes to make sure the tank was filling to the proper level, a loud porcelain clank as the tank lid hit the tank a little too forcefully, very audible footsteps as I walked behind Jason again, another clank as I tossed a tool back into its spot, a clatter as I rattled a few other tools, followed by the clapping of my hands as I brushed them together while bragging, "Man! I should've been a plumber." and I was done. I plopped down on the couch a few feet away from the gaming action with a sigh so loud it nearly made me hoarse.
Fast forward to today. Jason noticed a major leak coming from the bottom of the tank where the little pump looking thingy is connected. He went to his tools and I took note that I must have used the right ones in my repair because he made the same choices of tools. He headed into the bathroom and after a few seconds and sighs he said he was going to Lowes. He came back. He left again for Lowes. He came back. He started out the door again and I asked him to get one of those foam interlocking floor mats for Jedi since he was already going to Lowes. He came back, connected the new floor mat, went back into the bathroom for a while, came back out, victoriously held his hands high and proclaimed, "I should've been a plumber!" I told him that was funny because that was the same thing I said when I fixed it. His hands immediately came down and he asked when had I fixed it. Always quick on my feet I told him it was a while back ago. He sat down at his computer and I waited until he was in PVP mode before I mumbled quietly that there was a tiny possibility that I might have been the cause of the major leak when I fixed the minor one.
Later I went to the bathroom and noticed it was leaking again. I had a tumultuous internal debate for a while as to whether I should tell him. I decided I would let him find it himself and give him a few more moments of PVP stress relief. He found it while I was giving Abigail her lunch, got his tools and took a fussy Jedi into the bathroom with him. He fixed it with just a few tweaks of the pliers. Jedi got to see his Daddy fix something with a really cool tool and I got an excellent picture of the two men of the house saving the day by fixing the toilet. Just think if I hadn't have fixed the minor leak we wouldn't have had the major one that gave us a special family moment.
Yep. I should've been a plumber.
Monday, May 28, 2012
The story of Jedi
It's been a while since I've blogged. I've been a little busy being half creator of a tiny little life, incubating him and bringing him into this world. I've been sharing my knowledge on the way the world works with him for the past five months now. It actually took only a month to share with him all my actual wisdom, the other four months has just been filler. He has been a bigger blessing than I could have ever fathomed. He fit right in and made our happy family of three an even happier family of four. I could gush on and on about what a good baby he is, how he makes us laugh, how much his sister is in love with him, how on the first night he was born I dozed of while holding him and when I awoke I expected to look down and see him sleeping but instead met his bright wide smiling eyes full of humor and mischief studying every feature of my face. I could talk about how easy he is to comfort and how everyone is in awe of him from the second they meet him, but I won't. I don't want to be one of those moms who dotes on her baby as though there has never been a baby as wonderful as her own and acts as though he is the best baby in the world even though all those things are exactly what Jedi is.
Yes, we call him Jedi. It's his nickname and he will probably be well past school age before he realizes he has an actual dignified sounding official name. You can love the nickname, hate it, laugh at it, envy it. . . it doesn't matter to me. I will tell you however that those people who told us how it was terrible to call him by that name have been assigned "The Imperial Death March" to my cell's ring tone. That way when I hear that foreboding tune I know it's one of "those" people. I even asked for the phone number of a couple of "those" people just so I could program their numbers in my phone with that menacing chorus. They will never call me, but I feel better knowing I have them in the dark sith lord category.
Jedi was due January 24, 2012. I knew what all the books said about packing a bag well in advance, making sure the nursery was ready blah, blah, blah, but I kept putting all that off. On Christmas Eve I forced myself to wash all his clothes and blankets. While folding them I got the sudden urge to immediately put everything in baskets on his shelf. I had picked up a few baskets the day before after I remembered that when Abigail was a baby all her clothes ended up staying in laundry baskets because there wasn't enough time to fold them and put them in drawers or hang them. Suddenly I had the uncontrollable urge for more baskets. I wanted a wall of nothing but baskets. It was cold and rainy but I was determined- so off I went to Hobby Lobby's half off basket sale. I was so excited that once I got there I didn't even grab a cart to put my baskets in. I picked out some in every size and color and precariously stacked them, picked them up and waddled up to the cashier practically throwing my baskets on her counter. After checking out and assuring her I didn't need help to waddle to the car I darted back home to organize all the freshly laundered baby clothes. I put Abigail in bed, gave her a quick kiss and gleefully headed into Jedi's room to fulfill his basket destiny.
By the time I fulfilled my dream of basket infinity I was beyond tired and ready for bed. But I remembered it was Christmas Eve and Santa wasn't going to bring himself to our house. So I began sneaking around quietly so I wouldn't wake up Abigail. I began placing presents under our pitiful tree.
(Pitiful because I could never get enough Christmas spirit to dig all the ornaments out of the attic. It wasn't so much the digging out, but the putting back up that I was dreading. Luckily I had easy access to our tree stored within a trunk in the living room or I wouldn't have even bothered with a tree at all. I bought some ribbon for garland and let Abigail pick out her traditional before Christmas ornament. So our tree had some ribbon and one fat Christmas elf ornament on it. Exuding an "AND A MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!" it was not.) Just as I thought I was nearly done with the gift placement I came across a sack of stocking stuffers. I nearly slapped myself on the forehead when I remembered in my avoidance of digging out the ornaments I neglected to get out the stockings. I couldn't send Jason on a wild goose chase in the darkness of the attic, not because I was concerned for his safety but because the way our attic entrance works. The ladder has to come down part way into Abigail's room. There was no way she'd stay sleeping if I opened her door and filled her room with the loud creaking of the attic door springs and crunching sound of the ladder unfolding. Desperate situations inspire ingenious ideas so I grabbed a pillow case and dropped her stocking gifts inside. What would have filled up her stocking looked pretty pitiful inside a pillow case so I grabbed some books that she hadn't read in awhile to use as filler. If I took them out of the pillow case on Christmas morning and didn't linger too long while showing them to her she'd never notice she was getting some of her own possessions as gifts.
After sneaking around quietly and finishing Santa's job I began the tip toe journey to bed. While making my way to the bedroom, I nearly tripped over one of my dogs. Fergus was right under my feet being a total nuisance, so thinking he had to go outside, I wearily went to the kitchen door and opened it for him. He refused to budge away from my side. It was still raining so I figured that was the reason. I tried coaxing him a little more without any success. In my impatience I scooped him up and unceremoniously tossed him out. The plan was to let him back inside after I got ready for bed. While putting on my pajamas I remembered that Fergus had acted the same clingy way towards me when I had a bladder infection a few months before. Before I had even felt any effects of the infection he was clingy to the point of being infuriatingly annoying. Once I began antibiotics he backed off and left me alone. I wondered if I could be getting another infection, which set me to thinking about bladders in general when suddenly I thought mine must have burst. I'm not sure how many moments passed before I realized what must have happened. Then I was in disbelief. All the books said the stereo typical breaking water that is seen on television is a very rare occurrence. The books said that usually contractions begin long before the water breaks. I was thinking how ironic that the books could be so wrong about that, but so right about having a bag packed well in advance. Suddenly it hit me that I was still a month away from the due date.
I was on the verge of panic, but I still didn't want to wake up Abigail. So I quietly called Jason's name. Jason was playing one of his computer games so I didn't think he could possibly hear me. Jason who in the past had been nearly deaf to my calls of help if I was needing his assistance reaching an item in the kitchen or getting up after sitting on the floor or getting down off the washing machine because it was so easy to step up on it to reach the top shelf but impossible to step off of it because I couldn't see past my belly was in the room with me within a few seconds of the sheepish calling of his name. He could hear the tone I was using so he was immediately by my side. I should have pointed out he had just disproved his denial and validated my 18 year argument that he has selective hearing but since I'm not that kind of wife, I didn't. "I think my water broke," I told him calmly. He replied with an even calmer "I think you are right." And then the fun began.
His first question was, "Where's your bag?" which I immediately interpreted as being accusatory. "I DIDN'T KNOW I WAS GOING TO NEED IT SO SOON!" (All the earlier sneaking around on tiptoe was unnecessary because Abigail stayed sleeping through the growing chaos.)
"Okay," Jason sweetly answered. "Where do you keep the empty suitcases?"
I wanted to smart off to him about how he didn't know where anything was. I wanted to tell him about all the times I dug out those suitcases right in front of him to pack and still he was oblivious to where they were. I wanted to march past him and fling out my suitcase in the most chastising way possible, but suddenly I didn't remember where I kept them. My eyes began to dart around the bedroom and I saw a reusable shopping bag that a friend had used to contain some of her loaner maternity clothes. I snatched it, held it straight out in front of me and walked around in a couple of stiff legged small stepped 360 degree turns. Jason reached for the bag and told me that I needed to get my coat and go wait in the car. He had to touch my fingers to get me to let go of the bag. I went into the bathroom and grabbed my glasses and my toothbrush. I was holding those straight out in front of me walking around in the same tight circle when Jason walked in with my coat. "Go wait in the car right now." he said sternly. That was enough partly snap me out of my daze. I asked him if he wanted me to go get Abigail to load her up as though picking up and carrying out a 50 pound child while in labor was a wise idea. His words were gentle when he told me he would get her after he gathered up all my things.
I sat in the car a few moments and became clear headed enough to call my sister-in-law to have her meet us at the hospital so she could take Abigail home with her. Actually I was texting her in a long, drawn out text and correcting all my many hasty typing spelling mistakes when I became clear headed enough to call her. I then called the hospital to tell them we were on our way. Then I called right back to tell them I had no idea where to go and that I knew I should have had a bag ready and I should have filled out the pre-registry paperwork already, but I thought I had more time. Then I called back again to ask again exactly where to go because I didn't come in for a tour because I thought I had more time.
On the way to the hospital I was much more calm. I think knowing a sleep disheveled, groggy Abigail was in the back seat made me act competent. I was worried because I hadn't felt the baby kick since the water broke, but I stayed calm until we turned into the hospital entrance to the parking lot. We had our hazards on which meant we could speed with all the right away but suddenly we were on the tail of some idiot in a pick up who was driving slowly right in our way. "Common courtesy would be nice! If you see hazards get out of the way! Get out of the way! Are you stupid?" were just a few of the things that escaped my mouth before I realized that the truck was very familiar looking. In fact, it was my sister-in-law who hates driving at night trying to find her way in the rain to the correct entrance of the hospital. When glanced in her rear view mirror and saw car on her bumper she pulled off to the side and we zoomed around her passing the next entrance we needed. I told Jason as we zoomed past them that those were the doors I needed to be going through. We whipped a fast u-turn and made a tight, body shifting dukes of hazard left turn and parked. While I went inside he transferred Abigail over to her aunt.
While inside I explained again that I thought I had more time. Apparently the lady behind the registration desk still thought we had more time because she took a very long time to get all the paperwork in order before she let us proceed. I don't know how many times I told her my water had broke and I wasn't feeling any kicking, but I do know I was on the verge of walking off of the tiled area I was on and into the carpeted area where she was to demonstrate what happens when a water has broken and one stands on carpet. Before I had to resort to that she proclaimed everything was in order and that she would walk us to the next destination. As she came out from behind her desk she said, "Oh my. Your water really has broken." I wanted to smart off that I hadn't noticed but I was too worried to share my gift of sarcasm.
A nurse met us in the delivery ward. I immediately blurted out that I was a month early, my water broke and I wasn't feeling movement. She was very calm and said, "Honey. Your baby was inside there going about his business and after his last movement his whole world turned upside down. Would you move again very soon after that?" That made total sense. I could picture little Jedi inside his safe, warm squishy place and just when he moved to scratch his nose his home was tossed into turmoil. He was probably too scared of more consequences if he moved again. The nurse was very good at calming me down and quickly had the heartbeat monitor hooked up so she could completely set my worries to rest. It felt like an eternity, but it wasn't that long before they were ready for a c-section. On the way to the operating room the anesthesiologist asked me if we'd be bringing the baby's Christmas gifts to the hospital. I told him we weren't expecting until January 24 so there were no Christmas gifts waiting. As soon as I said it I was filled with great concern. Then the staff had to tell me not to worry about it because the baby wouldn't remember his first Christmas anyway. I insisted on asking the pediatrician later and she assured me there would be no permanent emotional damage to Jedi because he didn't have any Christmas gifts.
On Christmas Eve in a brightly lit room filled with Christmas music at 11:43 p.m. Jedi was born. They had prepared for a premature baby, but he was 7 pounds of feisty. He was healthy and he was letting us know he wasn't too happy about being yanked out of his cozy home and thrust into a cold room. He was perfect. But I asked the next pediatrician on call if he was sure there would be no lasting ill effects of not having any Christmas presents under the tree for him.
Jedi studying my face as I dozed the day after he was born. He was much more alert after his birth than I was after the ordeal. And it wasn't just a fleeting moment. The nurses in the nursery told me Jedi would wake up from sleeping and just start looking all around at the other babies next to him. They were all impressed by how alert he was. Yes, I'm bragging.
Just some very profound facts to me that are insignificant tid bits to you, but it's my blog so I can blab as much as I want on it:
1.At Thanksgiving Jason told me we would not be traveling at Christmas time. I told him he was silly because I would still have a month left at Christmas. He wouldn't budge and told me he had a feeling if we traveled he'd be delivering a kid on the side of the road. I relented and told him he was right about not traveling. He still tells me at least twice a week that I had better be glad we didn't travel. I thought by me saying you are right it would get it out of his system and he'd stop reminding me. It only fueled his repetitiveness.
2. In early December a stanger lady approached me in the Target parking lot and asked when I was due. When I told her January 24 she shook her head and proclaimed that I would be having a Christmas baby. Was she a gypsy predicting the future or a soothsayer who was able to make things she predicted happen? Or was she just a nosy yet friendly lady who wanted to stock up on the towels and toothpaste that were on sale that day?
3. My sister-in-law and her family were supposed to be going out of town too like they do every year. For whatever reason they decided they'd rather spend a Christmas at home relaxing so they stuck around town. Thank goodness. They didn't get a relaxing Christmas, but I got peace of mind knowing Abigail was somewhere she was comfortable.
Oh, and although Fergus wouldn't go back inside that night he was let back inside the following morning. Poor guy was trying to alert me that something was about to happen and he got tossed out in the rain for his efforts.
Yes, we call him Jedi. It's his nickname and he will probably be well past school age before he realizes he has an actual dignified sounding official name. You can love the nickname, hate it, laugh at it, envy it. . . it doesn't matter to me. I will tell you however that those people who told us how it was terrible to call him by that name have been assigned "The Imperial Death March" to my cell's ring tone. That way when I hear that foreboding tune I know it's one of "those" people. I even asked for the phone number of a couple of "those" people just so I could program their numbers in my phone with that menacing chorus. They will never call me, but I feel better knowing I have them in the dark sith lord category.
Jedi was due January 24, 2012. I knew what all the books said about packing a bag well in advance, making sure the nursery was ready blah, blah, blah, but I kept putting all that off. On Christmas Eve I forced myself to wash all his clothes and blankets. While folding them I got the sudden urge to immediately put everything in baskets on his shelf. I had picked up a few baskets the day before after I remembered that when Abigail was a baby all her clothes ended up staying in laundry baskets because there wasn't enough time to fold them and put them in drawers or hang them. Suddenly I had the uncontrollable urge for more baskets. I wanted a wall of nothing but baskets. It was cold and rainy but I was determined- so off I went to Hobby Lobby's half off basket sale. I was so excited that once I got there I didn't even grab a cart to put my baskets in. I picked out some in every size and color and precariously stacked them, picked them up and waddled up to the cashier practically throwing my baskets on her counter. After checking out and assuring her I didn't need help to waddle to the car I darted back home to organize all the freshly laundered baby clothes. I put Abigail in bed, gave her a quick kiss and gleefully headed into Jedi's room to fulfill his basket destiny.
By the time I fulfilled my dream of basket infinity I was beyond tired and ready for bed. But I remembered it was Christmas Eve and Santa wasn't going to bring himself to our house. So I began sneaking around quietly so I wouldn't wake up Abigail. I began placing presents under our pitiful tree.
(Pitiful because I could never get enough Christmas spirit to dig all the ornaments out of the attic. It wasn't so much the digging out, but the putting back up that I was dreading. Luckily I had easy access to our tree stored within a trunk in the living room or I wouldn't have even bothered with a tree at all. I bought some ribbon for garland and let Abigail pick out her traditional before Christmas ornament. So our tree had some ribbon and one fat Christmas elf ornament on it. Exuding an "AND A MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!" it was not.) Just as I thought I was nearly done with the gift placement I came across a sack of stocking stuffers. I nearly slapped myself on the forehead when I remembered in my avoidance of digging out the ornaments I neglected to get out the stockings. I couldn't send Jason on a wild goose chase in the darkness of the attic, not because I was concerned for his safety but because the way our attic entrance works. The ladder has to come down part way into Abigail's room. There was no way she'd stay sleeping if I opened her door and filled her room with the loud creaking of the attic door springs and crunching sound of the ladder unfolding. Desperate situations inspire ingenious ideas so I grabbed a pillow case and dropped her stocking gifts inside. What would have filled up her stocking looked pretty pitiful inside a pillow case so I grabbed some books that she hadn't read in awhile to use as filler. If I took them out of the pillow case on Christmas morning and didn't linger too long while showing them to her she'd never notice she was getting some of her own possessions as gifts.
After sneaking around quietly and finishing Santa's job I began the tip toe journey to bed. While making my way to the bedroom, I nearly tripped over one of my dogs. Fergus was right under my feet being a total nuisance, so thinking he had to go outside, I wearily went to the kitchen door and opened it for him. He refused to budge away from my side. It was still raining so I figured that was the reason. I tried coaxing him a little more without any success. In my impatience I scooped him up and unceremoniously tossed him out. The plan was to let him back inside after I got ready for bed. While putting on my pajamas I remembered that Fergus had acted the same clingy way towards me when I had a bladder infection a few months before. Before I had even felt any effects of the infection he was clingy to the point of being infuriatingly annoying. Once I began antibiotics he backed off and left me alone. I wondered if I could be getting another infection, which set me to thinking about bladders in general when suddenly I thought mine must have burst. I'm not sure how many moments passed before I realized what must have happened. Then I was in disbelief. All the books said the stereo typical breaking water that is seen on television is a very rare occurrence. The books said that usually contractions begin long before the water breaks. I was thinking how ironic that the books could be so wrong about that, but so right about having a bag packed well in advance. Suddenly it hit me that I was still a month away from the due date.
I was on the verge of panic, but I still didn't want to wake up Abigail. So I quietly called Jason's name. Jason was playing one of his computer games so I didn't think he could possibly hear me. Jason who in the past had been nearly deaf to my calls of help if I was needing his assistance reaching an item in the kitchen or getting up after sitting on the floor or getting down off the washing machine because it was so easy to step up on it to reach the top shelf but impossible to step off of it because I couldn't see past my belly was in the room with me within a few seconds of the sheepish calling of his name. He could hear the tone I was using so he was immediately by my side. I should have pointed out he had just disproved his denial and validated my 18 year argument that he has selective hearing but since I'm not that kind of wife, I didn't. "I think my water broke," I told him calmly. He replied with an even calmer "I think you are right." And then the fun began.
His first question was, "Where's your bag?" which I immediately interpreted as being accusatory. "I DIDN'T KNOW I WAS GOING TO NEED IT SO SOON!" (All the earlier sneaking around on tiptoe was unnecessary because Abigail stayed sleeping through the growing chaos.)
"Okay," Jason sweetly answered. "Where do you keep the empty suitcases?"
I wanted to smart off to him about how he didn't know where anything was. I wanted to tell him about all the times I dug out those suitcases right in front of him to pack and still he was oblivious to where they were. I wanted to march past him and fling out my suitcase in the most chastising way possible, but suddenly I didn't remember where I kept them. My eyes began to dart around the bedroom and I saw a reusable shopping bag that a friend had used to contain some of her loaner maternity clothes. I snatched it, held it straight out in front of me and walked around in a couple of stiff legged small stepped 360 degree turns. Jason reached for the bag and told me that I needed to get my coat and go wait in the car. He had to touch my fingers to get me to let go of the bag. I went into the bathroom and grabbed my glasses and my toothbrush. I was holding those straight out in front of me walking around in the same tight circle when Jason walked in with my coat. "Go wait in the car right now." he said sternly. That was enough partly snap me out of my daze. I asked him if he wanted me to go get Abigail to load her up as though picking up and carrying out a 50 pound child while in labor was a wise idea. His words were gentle when he told me he would get her after he gathered up all my things.
I sat in the car a few moments and became clear headed enough to call my sister-in-law to have her meet us at the hospital so she could take Abigail home with her. Actually I was texting her in a long, drawn out text and correcting all my many hasty typing spelling mistakes when I became clear headed enough to call her. I then called the hospital to tell them we were on our way. Then I called right back to tell them I had no idea where to go and that I knew I should have had a bag ready and I should have filled out the pre-registry paperwork already, but I thought I had more time. Then I called back again to ask again exactly where to go because I didn't come in for a tour because I thought I had more time.
On the way to the hospital I was much more calm. I think knowing a sleep disheveled, groggy Abigail was in the back seat made me act competent. I was worried because I hadn't felt the baby kick since the water broke, but I stayed calm until we turned into the hospital entrance to the parking lot. We had our hazards on which meant we could speed with all the right away but suddenly we were on the tail of some idiot in a pick up who was driving slowly right in our way. "Common courtesy would be nice! If you see hazards get out of the way! Get out of the way! Are you stupid?" were just a few of the things that escaped my mouth before I realized that the truck was very familiar looking. In fact, it was my sister-in-law who hates driving at night trying to find her way in the rain to the correct entrance of the hospital. When glanced in her rear view mirror and saw car on her bumper she pulled off to the side and we zoomed around her passing the next entrance we needed. I told Jason as we zoomed past them that those were the doors I needed to be going through. We whipped a fast u-turn and made a tight, body shifting dukes of hazard left turn and parked. While I went inside he transferred Abigail over to her aunt.
While inside I explained again that I thought I had more time. Apparently the lady behind the registration desk still thought we had more time because she took a very long time to get all the paperwork in order before she let us proceed. I don't know how many times I told her my water had broke and I wasn't feeling any kicking, but I do know I was on the verge of walking off of the tiled area I was on and into the carpeted area where she was to demonstrate what happens when a water has broken and one stands on carpet. Before I had to resort to that she proclaimed everything was in order and that she would walk us to the next destination. As she came out from behind her desk she said, "Oh my. Your water really has broken." I wanted to smart off that I hadn't noticed but I was too worried to share my gift of sarcasm.
A nurse met us in the delivery ward. I immediately blurted out that I was a month early, my water broke and I wasn't feeling movement. She was very calm and said, "Honey. Your baby was inside there going about his business and after his last movement his whole world turned upside down. Would you move again very soon after that?" That made total sense. I could picture little Jedi inside his safe, warm squishy place and just when he moved to scratch his nose his home was tossed into turmoil. He was probably too scared of more consequences if he moved again. The nurse was very good at calming me down and quickly had the heartbeat monitor hooked up so she could completely set my worries to rest. It felt like an eternity, but it wasn't that long before they were ready for a c-section. On the way to the operating room the anesthesiologist asked me if we'd be bringing the baby's Christmas gifts to the hospital. I told him we weren't expecting until January 24 so there were no Christmas gifts waiting. As soon as I said it I was filled with great concern. Then the staff had to tell me not to worry about it because the baby wouldn't remember his first Christmas anyway. I insisted on asking the pediatrician later and she assured me there would be no permanent emotional damage to Jedi because he didn't have any Christmas gifts.
On Christmas Eve in a brightly lit room filled with Christmas music at 11:43 p.m. Jedi was born. They had prepared for a premature baby, but he was 7 pounds of feisty. He was healthy and he was letting us know he wasn't too happy about being yanked out of his cozy home and thrust into a cold room. He was perfect. But I asked the next pediatrician on call if he was sure there would be no lasting ill effects of not having any Christmas presents under the tree for him.
Just some very profound facts to me that are insignificant tid bits to you, but it's my blog so I can blab as much as I want on it:
1.At Thanksgiving Jason told me we would not be traveling at Christmas time. I told him he was silly because I would still have a month left at Christmas. He wouldn't budge and told me he had a feeling if we traveled he'd be delivering a kid on the side of the road. I relented and told him he was right about not traveling. He still tells me at least twice a week that I had better be glad we didn't travel. I thought by me saying you are right it would get it out of his system and he'd stop reminding me. It only fueled his repetitiveness.
2. In early December a stanger lady approached me in the Target parking lot and asked when I was due. When I told her January 24 she shook her head and proclaimed that I would be having a Christmas baby. Was she a gypsy predicting the future or a soothsayer who was able to make things she predicted happen? Or was she just a nosy yet friendly lady who wanted to stock up on the towels and toothpaste that were on sale that day?
3. My sister-in-law and her family were supposed to be going out of town too like they do every year. For whatever reason they decided they'd rather spend a Christmas at home relaxing so they stuck around town. Thank goodness. They didn't get a relaxing Christmas, but I got peace of mind knowing Abigail was somewhere she was comfortable.
Oh, and although Fergus wouldn't go back inside that night he was let back inside the following morning. Poor guy was trying to alert me that something was about to happen and he got tossed out in the rain for his efforts.
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