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 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.