Monday, April 19, 2010

A letter to the "school line"

Dear other inhabitants of the school drop off and pick up line:

Hi there. It's me, the big black bus that waits patiently in line with all the other oversized over priced domestic suv's in this horrendous line most every afternoon between 2:45 pm and 3:45 pm...and for those of you who are "green" to the process and how it works? I'm the one with the temper who has absolutely no qualms about rolling her window down and letting you know exactly what I think of you....see all those other moms? the one's giving me a good three feet of space on each side of my vehicle?...they have probably felt my wrath in the have most of the incompetant people who send the kids to the cars each day... I'm not to be toyed with so lets heed the following guidelines and no one will get hurt...especially you in the brand new mazda suv...that's right...I saw you...but we'll get to you later...

Rule number one: There are no cell phones allowed in the school ZONE anymore...much less the school pick up not think you are clever by simply holding the cell phone lower than your window...your vehicle is otherwise unoccupied and you are TALKING...with no ear piece in...with one hand conspicuosly lower than the other in the last I checked? I'm the only crazy bitch who hears voices in this line...that job is taken thank you very much. Enjoy your 2 hundred dollar fine...because I'll be tattling on you to the crossing gaurd in a minute. Why? I don't like your face. That's why. And the fact that you think you're better than everyone and don't have to follow the rules or the clearly posted signs... LIKE SAY THE SPEED LIMIT....WHICH brings me to

Rule #2:The posted speed limit is 20. Not 40-80, and most certainly NOT fucking ZERO. If we all keep moving at a gentle pace people tend to get less aggravated because all that start fucking stop nonsense just pisses type a personalities like me the fuck off... I have no patience for you and your "but suzie can't get her shoes in that two inch puddle there and is currently throwing a king sized hissy fit (true story...witnessed today) about said precious shoes so I must STOP THE CAR...PUT IN IT PARK...(WE AREN'T ANYWHERE NEAR THE PICKUP POINT LADY...) AND WALK THE 300 YARDS TO SAID PRISSY BITCH WHO CAN'T GET HER KEDS SLIGHTLY DAMP...PICK HER UP, AND CARRY HER SAID 300 YARDS AGAIN....back to your car.... ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME LADY? Your fucking spoiled brat (a SECOND GRADER MIND YOU) just caused a 150 car TRAFFIC JAM on a major road way...and next time you do that, could you at least break Rule #3 like the rest of the goons who can't follow the rules? SHEESH bitch ...

Rule #3The field. It is a soccer field, sometimes baseball practice field. It is large, it is grassy, and it sometimes used for emergency parking during school programs where there are lots of folks expected. What it is NOT is a fucking demolition derby you goddamn morons!!! People's babies cut across that field to get HOME...and you have made it the most challenging thing ever by your attempts to CUT the fucking LINE and drive like fucking maniacs across the cut the people off at the front of the line (they seriously do this...daily....) I've called the cops on a few of you...that's right...when you almost hit my neighbor's boy that day? I'm the reason you got pulled over two seconds later because I took down your license plate number and reported you for reckless driving across a fucking field in a school zone no less. Grow a fucking brain, and some patience for the love of pete. No wonder our children have no manners and fights break out over people cutting in the damn lunch line! you can't wait ten minutes to pick up fucking pouty ass haywood or whatver the fuck you named him... you have to throw it in four wheel drive and off road over other people's children to make sure he doesn't have to wait one more solitary second in the shady covering provided by the school with all the other overly spoiled brats.... gimme a fucking break.

These are simply rules. all to better the chances that each of our kids actually make it to the car ALIVE... so how about we do this? say ya'll follow the rules....and I don't go to jail for kicking the shit out of you when you actually fuck up and hurt somebodies kid....remember...I hear voices...and they all don't like you....or your face.....

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

So she's here...and I'm still a bit surprised

March 16th, 2010 at 5:05 pm our family was blessed with a new arrival. We shall call her "Tid Bit."

It went kinda like this:

So I woke up in a FANTASTIC mood- no clue why. Just DID. I played online, dropped the kids off at school, ran to the grocery store, started a pot roast...all before 8 o'clock. Came home to get my shower- and the hot water heater isn't working.

Hmmmm...oh well. Nothing was spoiling my good mood. I took a "pirates" bath, got dressed, kissed the hubs and headed off to my appt.

En route to the doc I started to have some back aches. I shrugged them off because to be honest? I've had back pain the last week and contractions for the last two- so I'm not particularly caring at this point.

In my head I've already decided how the appt. is going to go, and I'm making my to do list for the afternoon. (House cleaning mostly) and planning to repaint my nails that night, etc.

Get there...and the pressure in my lower back is increasing. Hmmm. Hurts a lot actually. Oh well. Again- NOT getting my hopes up... I pee in the cup, tell them I'm still having contractions but no biggy, get wieghed. Tell the nurse about the pressure in my back, and go wait for another 30 min. in the waiting room until an exam room opens up.

They call my name, I go to walk down the hall...and apparently the look on my face concerned my nurse because she asked me
"C- how close are they?
"Me: "what? the back pains- eh, I dunno. It's pretty constant at this point. Didn't think much of it to time it to be honest..."
Nurse: "uh huh--- bottoms off I'm getting the doctor."
Me: "uhh. k"
Doc: "lets check you out- how close are the contractions?"
Me: "haven't really had any today- just that back pain I was telling the nurse about?"
Doc: "you're at a 3- and something is telling me that's not back pain. I want you to head to L & D NOW. I'll meet you over there in an hour or so to check on you."
Me: "do I have time to run to the house and pick up my husband?"
Doc: "I don't want you driving that far. The hospital is across the street so that should be ok. Go NOW. L can meet you there- want us to call him for you?"
Me: " I can call him."

(at this point I'm scratching my head. It's JUST a backache people! I've HAD labor pains before and this ISN'T labor damnit- quit fucking with my head- teasing me is NOT funny at this point.)

No really- I'm a bit upset because I think going to the hospital is a waste of time. The contractions I'm supposedly having don't feel like contractions to me- it's a constant pain in my back. And if I'm just at a 3 and NOT contracting? Well they are gonna send me home. I'm mad- but I call the hubs anyway and tell him to meet me up there even though I think this is STUPID.

So I get there- get hooked up to all the machines. I'm pissed because it's SUPER crowded and I feel like I'm taking up a bed and wasting everyone's time- just to get sent home. Nurse comes in to check on me after an hour or so and her eyes go wide when she looks at the monitor
Nurse: "You okay honey? you're so...quiet..." (keep in mind i'm still in L & D triage, so there is a lot of moaning and groaning going on around me from other curtained areas)
Me: "I'm okay. So can I go home now?"
Nurse: "sweety- your contractions are 2-3 minutes apart...and look like they are painful as hell... you're not going ANYWHERE. You're having a baby today."

Me: "you fuckin with me?"

Nurse: (laughs insanely) noooo not so much. here, I'll show you what I mean. (rolls me off my back and to my side to help me sit the monitor- then tells me to stand and walk...) Me: ohhhhhhhhh- yup. that's familiar. So I just couldn't feel them because you guys had me on my back and it's mostly back labor I guess?
Nurse: Yup. (laughs more) we'll get you into a room shortly. Dr. will be here in a few to check on you.

From there it's a bit of a whirlwind...they broke my water at 1- contractions got good but I was okay. Didn't actually WANT the epidural when they gave it to me because I was feeling okay. In pain, but could handle it ya know? But if I didn't get it THEN I wasn't going to...and I'm all about some epidural towards the end of labor. That was around 3:30 or so, and I also got a pitocin drip because I was still at a 4 and doc wanted to get things forward to 4:30. I think my epidural has quit working. The contractions are right on top of each other and I can't top it all off my mother arrives just in time to see me burst into tears and to order my husband to go find the nurse because my epidural isn't working, and if it's not going to work I want the damn needle out of my back NOW. (My call button was broken.)

My mother starts patronizing me so I threaten to hit her if she doesn't shut up because she starts telling me "it can't be THAT bad honey- you aren't throwing things yet or hitting people like I did with you..."

Me: "doesn't mean I'm not fucking thinking it mom. Now quit admiring my restraint and leave me alone already."

Hubs comes back in with the nurse, who is concerned since I think the epi isn't working (we had had equipment problems earlier in the evening) she checks the machine, which is fine, and then checks me.... and promptly busts out laughing.

Nurse: "Honey there isn't a damn thing wrong with your epidural. You're's time to push... THAT'S why it hurts that bad."

Me: "are you fucking with me?" (note: this is kinda the key phrase all day)

Nurse: (busts out laughing) noooo...and we're close so let me call the doctor.

From there it's just a matter of literally went by THAT fast. The nurse had to get onto the hubster because he had me laughing so hard Gabby was thisclose to being born on the floor And, quite literally, my doc walked in in time to catch her.

One push. and my baby was here....and that is almost as surreal as birthing a kid during a hurricane evacuation- now ain't it?