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 past...as 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 LINE...do 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 car...now 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 field...to 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.....

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: "uhhh...no? 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 up...watches 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 moving.Sooooo...fast forward to 4:30. I think my epidural has quit working. The contractions are right on top of each other and I can't breath...to 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 complete...it'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 minutes...it 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?

why am I still pregnant?

Technically my due date is not for another 7 days.


This is unacceptable to me. I've been contracting for 9 days...and have only dialated to a 1?!


That's just ludicrous.


I fully believe that women should be given SOME kind of decision making ability this close to the end...but nooooooooooooooooooooooooo the doctor is all " it'll be okay...just keep going on and we're gonna let you progress naturally..."



ummm...or you could give me a pitocin drip and get this labor moving and get this kid the hell outta me before I fly into a crazy pregnany lady hormonal homicidal rage?



hmmm? mr. doctor man?


Okay. Done whining. To be honest all of this business wouldn't be THAT bad if the kids I have already weren't sick.

That's right...they are sick. The shadow is super sick actually... We THOUGHT she was all better, and BAM...'AHAHAAHAHAHA...FOOLED YOU!'


Fever is back.

My boy has allergies for days, and a cough that would drive the most patient woman in the world (which have I mentioned I'm ummm. not?) absolutely bat shit crazy.



Who would like to wajer how many days ago mama allgrowedup went bat shit crazy? :-D

I don't wanna play anymore...

Day FOUR of contractions. 20-25 minutes apart...not strong enough to dialate me...but certainly strong enough to take the wind out of my sails.


To top it off, my lil bit has come down with RSV. (For you non parenting folks...that's a fairly contagious upper respiratory viral infection that hits the pre-k age kids pretty hard, and runs through daycares and schools like wildfire.)

Normally, no biggy. Unless I actually go into labor...at which point we are ...well.


Fucked.


Lil bit will be contagious for at least another 3-4 days... so she's gonna have to go to my mama and daddy I guess if I have this baby this weekend...because this RSV business is deadly to newborns. :-(


and


I'm tired. The doctor put me on leave from work... in order to rest my weary bones so I can push this heathen out...and for all the rest I've gotten I might as well have worked straight through.



I just keep chanting " 2 weeks. 2 weeks"... I'm officially 2 weeks from my due date today...and if I haven't had her by then he may induce me that following Monday. Maybe not.


Lets hope she comes next week? Cuz after the week I've had...




Mama All Growed Up needs a drink.

19 days and counting...and Walmart makes me dizzy...

Omigosh my dear blog how I've neglected thee...


but I've been busy incubating, mothering, working, etc... everything but cleaning. My house is a pit.


Ironically, 19 days away from my "projected" due date with kiddo number 3... my husband has fallen ill with whateverthehell bug knocked me on my ass last week...but I got doped up on antibiotics by my OB...whereas he refuses to seek medical treatment (WHY are men so stubborn?) and is currently languishing in agony in the bed...



SO here I sit. In the pit...just returned from my customary Walmart trip with the kids (I needed underwear...that fit my fat ass) and I'm contemplating why the last THREE times I've gone into that store I get dizzy.

NO lie...it's insane...somewhere between getting the milk and the compulsory "mama I'm soooooooooooo thirsty I'm gonna DIIiiiiiiiiiie Sprite" in the checkout line...I start to see spots... then the room starts to spin...and before I know it lil man and lil bit are looking at me like I'm loony tunes I seek out the nearest bench to sit down on and put my head between my legs...


Now before everyone gets all "AHHHHHHHHHHHH! You're PREGNANT" on me... I know that thank you. I also know that my blood pressure is EXCELLENT this time around, my blood sugar is PERFECT (that's right, I keep tabs) and that I had a good breakfast this morning. The one thing I forgot to do was take my prenatal vitamin, but that can be done anytime of day.



WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS OCCUR IN WALMART? Seriously...that's the part I can't fathom. It's like God is trying to tell me to quit spending my few pennies in that stupid place.



We make it to the bench, as always, and I rest a minute or two, and then we head to the car. I came home and ate a piece of fruit. Took SEVERAL swigs of Dr. Pepper (just in case it WAS my blood sugar) and hunted up a new pack of prenatals...


and I'm still wondering if I'm just allergic to the store itself. Cuz by the time I hit the drivers seat of my big bus?? I was feeling a million times better already.

A Hiatus with PURPOSE...

So I was gone a week (ish?) because I've been a busy little bee. I have had FIVE job interviews in the last 7 days...2 of which resulted in...


wait for it.......


A JOB!!!! woohoo!

I turned down one for the other obviously (though I was seriously scared I wasn't going to get the one I wanted and would have to take the one with the AWFUL schedule and icky longevity prospects.) and I start MONDAY...


so this grown as woman (which is, btw, a full time job in itself) will now have A FULL TIME JOB...and I couldn't be happier.


On the home front: if I hold my boobs back? I can SEE the baby kicking now, not just feel it. Which is just odd to me. Thankfully this pregnancy is flying by and the holidays are on the way! (Last trimester is juuuuuuuust around the bend...)

My 8 year old is going to be SANTA CLAUS in the school musical next month (awwwwwwwwwww) and my bebe girl is turning into a mama's girl all of a sudden. (gets two feet from me and she wigs.the.hell.out...) so I'm hoping that's not some sign that she's getting sick.

My bestie from college will have her fabulous self in my part of the world in less than 36 hours, and I'm drinking coffee at ten pm (shhhhh. don't you DARE tell my husband or my OB) so that I can clean in prep for her arrival.


Life. is. Good.

A word to the wise:

If mama ain't happy. Ain't NOBODY happy.

This is a really simple phrase that you'd think even the most dense (or in the case of children, ignorant) person could grasp.

If you piss of the person who makes your food? They might just not feed you...or fold your clothes.


I've been trying to hold down the fort as a "stay at home mom" (not something I ever saw myself doing, and I admittedly SUCK at it by all accounts.) but at least I'm TRYING dangit. I cook, I wash the clothes.

Do they all get put away pretty and neat? Well...everyone but ME gets their clothes put away pretty and neat.

Do you eat on dirty dishes? No...you may have to pull them out of the dish drain, but they are clean dangit.

Do you have to eat crap every night? NO...you get a damn good homemade meal 5 nights a week, with two nights usually reserved for leftovers because I hate wasting food.


So why is everyone in this house making me feel useless? I'm NOT June Cleaver. I'm not perfect, and I shouldn't HAVE to be. I do my best, and everyone gets taken care of.


And that should be the END of THAT discussion. (hmph)