Wednesday, May 31, 2006
PART THREE: HOBBIES
1. What do you do for a living? I raise my girls and work at home as a technical writer.
2. Are you happy with what you do? Yup.
3. What are your hobbies? Reading, writing, scrapbooking, and taking pictures.
4. Name everything you love: Coffee, beer, cigarettes, my kids, my husband, my house, garlic, writing, reading, books, cool pens and blank journals, and way too many more things to mention here.
5. Name everything you hate: Stupid drivers, people that continue talking while they're yawning, snakes, bugs, critters, pets (hate is a strong word, but it's close), being called names (duh), and whiney kid days.
6. What kind of people do you love: Funny people. You must be funny to be my friend. (LOL) People who challenge my thinking. People who realize that I'm always right. (Kidding.)
7. What kind of people do you hate: Snobs. I HATE SNOBS!!! People who think they're better than me just because their bank account/house/car/etc. is bigger than mine. Ignorant people.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Steve: "So? You could suck me off or something."Nice.
Me (laughing in disbelief): "Dude, did you seriously just ask me to 'suck you off'?"
Steve: "Yeah. What do you want me to say? 'Pleasure me?'"
Me (still laughing): "Well, that's a little better. I dunno. Ask me to honk your horn or something."
Hannah (who heard only the last comment I made): "HONK! HONK!"
Long story short... I had to drop my car off at the garage tonight to get inspected tomorrow. But my sister (still with a broken leg) needs a ride to work. So I had to pick her car up and drive it home so I can go get her and take her to work in the morning. My sister's "children" are her two German Shepards. She likes those damn
So some nights Hannah makes me tell her a story when I take her up to bed. Not read her a story, mind you. Tell her a story. As in make one up. Well, let me assure you that trying to make up a story suitable for a child on the spur of the moment is not my forte. They usually involve characters like Freddy the Fox, Squinty the Squirrel, and Chipper the Chipmunk having a birthday party.
So tonight she requests a story about Freddy the Fox again. I start babbling about Freddy the Fox having friends named Hannah and Maria, and she interrupts and says, "He's sad because he can't go on the seesaw." Alrighty then, we'll run with this...
So I start talking about how Hannah and Maria play on the seesaw everyday, and how Freddy the Fox watches them, but he's sad, because he can't go on it too. And how Maria and Hannah decide to surprise Freddy by building him a wooden box to put on the seesaw so that Freddy can sit in it and play too. And how they get wood and hammer and saw and nail and put it all together to surprise Freddy.
Hannah interrupts and says, "No Mommy. That won't work. The box will fall off."
Seriously kid, shut the hell up. You're two (almost three). Don't go interrupting my damn story, bad as it is, to talk to me about the physics of Freddy the Fox falling off the seesaw, OK? This is my story and I'll tell it the way I damn well please. Little shit... [grumble grumble]
I am a writer. It's a huge part of who I am. And I don't mean that in a "cool" way. Like I sit here at my computer, staring out my window at the sea, while sipping coffee and working on the next Great American Novel. No, I'm afraid I'm not nearly that interesting.
I am a technical writer. See how boring that sounds? I didn't become an English/Professional Writing major in college with the intentions of becoming a technical writer. I'd never even heard of a technical writer until my junior year. But after graduating, a guy I knew hooked me up with a technical writing job at the company he worked at. Basically, I had to proofread and add the user's guides that accompanied the computer software they developed. But then I got fired when the CEO thought I was having an affair with a married guy that worked there. [sigh]
But since I had a few months of experience in that field, I applied for another tech writing job at a computer consulting company and landed the job. I spent the next 10.5 years at that company writing the user's guides, online help systems, and all sorts of other technical documents for their software. It sounds boring, and I suppose that in some ways, it was. But I was good at it. I used to get giddy when a new project was starting and I knew they'd install the software program on my computer and I'd get to click around to my heart's content, make sense out of all of it, and then develop a guide that took an end-user through the system from beginning to end.
I was laid off last May when the bastards started outsourcing the writing stuff to people in other countries that worked for squat. It was a blessing in disguise though, because I've been given the opportunity to stay home with the girls for over a year now.
I picked up a freelancing technical writing gig a few months ago, and that's going well. And this Friday, I have an interview for a full-time position (partly from home though) at another company.
People often ask me if I'd rather be a "creative writer". One who writes books or short stories. The truth is, no, I don't. This blog is pretty much the only "creative writing" I do, and even this isn't really "creative" since it's all stuff that has actually happened to me and there isn't much creativity involved when typing it all out.
Sometimes, when someone asks me what I do for a living, I just say, "I'm a writer." Not because I don't want to be a technical writer. And not because I want them to think I'm some literary genius that can write stories that people read in order to be transported to another place and time. I answer that way because most people don't know what a technical writer is and I just don't feel like explaining. There really is a bit more creativity to it than some people realize and to try and convey that in conversation just isn't worth it to me.
So anyway, I'm Allison and I'm a technical writer. And I love it.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
** Grace had her T-ball game at 9:00 this morning. Yes, that's early, but since my damn kids wake up at 6:30 every effing morning, by the time 9:00 rolls around, it doesn't seem that early. (She kicked ass, like usual.)
** Took the heathens with me to WalMart, where I purchased a cool-as-shit wireless mouse, for my new cool-as-shit laptop. Life is sweet these days...
** During the trip, also purchased a tin containing four card games for kids, marbles, and pickup sticks.
** Came home to temperatures in the high 70's and lots and lots of sunshine.
** Taught the girls to play marbles (which I regretted 25,000,000 games into it this afternoon...).
** Managed to find the floor and seats of my car after digging through all of the paper, lollipop sticks, coats, underwear (the kids... not mine), T-shirts, baseball hats, half sucked on fruit snacks, wrappers, empty water bottles, books and toys that my children had dumped in there.
** Took a Shop Vac to the sucker.
** Decided it was warm enough to give my 5-year-old car it's fifth washing ever since I' bought it brand new. (I'm not kidding.)
** Laughed my ass off as tiny little Hannah purposely drenched big ol' Grace with the hose.
** Only killed about 15 caterpillars today (as compared to my usual 45 or so). I'm thinking they're starting to notice their friends' squished carcasses around our house and are alerting each other to the risk they run should they venture onto our porch, patio, swingset, or bench in the backyard. Mwaaaahaaahaaaa....
** Told Grace to get over it when she continually got sad every time Hannah stepped on another one of the little bastards, and silently chanted, "Go Hannah! Go Hannah!"
** Was told by Steve (when he arrived home from turkey hunting) that my father-in-law's girlfriend gave us a wireless router that her son had ordered but then never even opened because he left for the army. So now, I not only have a laptop and a wireless mouse, but also a wireless router. So I can blog ANYWHERE I want to, dammit!!!! Yeehaw!!!! (Steve forgot it at his dad's house though. Idiot.)
** Had Hannah in bed for the night by 7:00. (It's amazing what a skipped nap can do.)
** Didn't care that Grace was up a little later than usual, because she was over in our rental unit in the backyard with Steve and our nephew, so I enjoyed the sweet, sweet silence.
** Started seeing damn ants in the house. It happens every year. Every year it annoys the shit out of me. Must buy ant traps tomorrow.
** Decided that life really is sweeter when accompanied by Miller Lite. :)
Friday, May 26, 2006
Let me set this up first. I was trying to go to the bathroom in peace. You know... like alone? But 2 seconds into it, my little 3-feet munchkin, Hannah, opened the door and came waltzing in. The following conversation occurred...
Hannah: "Hey Mom. How come you can sit back real far on the potty? I have to sit up front and hold on."
Me: "Well, because I'm bigger and I won't fall in. You have to hold onto the sides so your little butt doesn't fall in."
Hannah: [deep in thought...] "Oh. So you won't fall in because you have a big fat butt?"
Me: "Um, yeah kid. That's it. Go away."
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
** Woke up this morning and decided that the girls would be going to daycare this morning, even though I had to drive them the 30 miles (one way) myself. It was best for their sanity, my sanity, and well, my job security.
** Shook my head and didn't know whether to laugh or put the girls up for adoption when the voices from the backseat discussed/sang/yelled about cow's pooping on people's heads, singing "Jingle Bells" (loudly) for 10 minute straight, practicing their turkey calls (loudly) for 5 minutes, and making farting noises (loudly) and laughing hysterically.
** Dropped them off and enjoyed my sweet, childless drive home with my Marlboro Lights, my Starbuck's coffee, and the Bodines blaring while I sang along. Ahhhh...
** Didn't even care when I got stuck behind a highway line painting truck for 15 miles of the drive.
** Fought the urge to swerve purposely onto the freshly painted lines and leave permanent tire tracks on the road.
** Booked Grace's birthday party for in July. We're having it at a really cool place where workers take charge of all children for an hour, taking them from "station" to "station" to jump on trampolines, rope swing and drop into a giant pit filled with foam blocks, play with them, etc. All while I sit on my fat ass and gossip with the other parents. Sweet, sweet bliss, I tell ya.
** Exchanged a few emails with my former co-worker (the one that submitted my resume at the company she now works for), and found out that the technical writer position they want to interview me for pays $12,000 more dollars than what I was making at my last job AND they're willing to work with me on working from home quite a bit. Let's just say that that made my decision of whether or not to interview A LOT easier. LOL! (I go in next Friday morning.)
** Picked the girls back up and couldn't stop laughing when on the way home, the girls were arguing over the last swigs of my Dr. Pepper and Grace was telling Hannah that they should share because that's the nice thing to do. Hannah's reply? While pointing at the words "Dr. Pepper" on the side of the bottle, said, "See? See what it says here? Read it. It says, 'We do not share.' Sorry Grace. I can't give it to you." L...M...F...A...O...
** Had a panic attack when I couldn't find the remote for our VCR, which meant I couldn't set it up to record "Lost" tonight while we watched "American Idol."
** Frantically searched for the instruction manual for our other VCR so I could record it using that one. The problem was that every other time I have tried recording on that one, I end up recording C-SPAN (no shit) and totally missing whatever show it was I wanted to watch.
** Performed a "test" using the possessed VCR and was confident I could actually record Lost.
** Almost shit my pants when Prince walked out onto the "American Idol" stage to perform. Dudes. I LOVE Prince!
** Almost shit my pants again when Clay Aiken walked out. I didn't even recognize him and had to have Steve tell me who he was. HOLY hair change, Batman! I'm digging it!!!
(No other American Idol talk tonight, so as not to ruin it for those in other time zones who have not yet watched the results show.)
** Just rewound my VCR tape and am about to go see if I did, indeed, record Lost, or if I'll be watching two hours of recorded C-Span this evening before bed. Peace out, my friends...
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
** Issued a smackdown on my children on more than once occasion. (Not a literal smackdown, but I was pretty damn close, because the past two days, they have really been pushing me to the edge and just about have me ready to jump off the cliff willingly.)
** Killed 35 of those bastard caterpillars within 10 minutes. No exaggeration. They have never been this bad before. I feel like I'm being overrun by them. So if I don't blog for more than two or three days in a row, assume that the King Caterpillar staged a revolt and came to hunt me down. Please call the Orken man and direct him to my home to retrieve the body. (Is Orken the exterminator dudes? Or do they do gardening? Shit. I dunno. Pretend I know what I'm talking about.)
** Got a call for an interview for a full-time job. What's funny is that the girl that called me is a girl I graduated from college with, and whom I was drunk with many, many times. Oy. That could be good or bad. I'm not sure if I even want to interview. I don't want to, like, have to go to work, ya know? [sigh] Decisions. Decisions.
** Became giddy when I heard that these outfits are on their way to my home, courtesy of the WAY too talented Pink Rocket. Seriously, the woman is kind of scary with her talent...
** Almost pissed myself with excitement in finding out that I will soon be the proud owner of a laptop!!! I never dreamed I'd see the day. And now, let me warn you, that the world will never be the same. Waiting for the WalMart dudes to finish your oil change? Hey! I know! I'll blog!.... Sitting in the bathroom while the girls play in the bathtub? Rock on. "Stay in there until you're wrinkled girls! I'm blogging!"... Sitting on the throne during my daily, um, yeah. You get the picture. "No girls! I cannot unlock the door! I'm blogging!"... YEEHAW!!!
** Found out one of my best friends went and got his girlfriend knocked up. Now, I'm 99.9% sure this was a big "oopsie" on their part, but I couldn't be more thrilled. He will make the best daddy, and I know that once the little sucker pops out, he'll be on top of the world.
** Also found out another friend had her baby a few weeks ago. Another boy. I can't even begin to describe the gayness of their baby name spellings, but to each his own, I suppose. But while we're on the subject, what is with couples that feel the need to name every child after the parent of the same gender. You know... almost like George Foreman Syndrome. I have one friend whose husband's name is simply Jay. Great. Their first son? His name is Jayson. (Because apparently, that "y" was deemed necessary to assure people that the son was named after his father in a roundabout way.) [rolling eyes]. Her second son? Carson Jaymes. Dear Lord people. We get it! The father's name is Jay! There is NO need to "hide" that name in every one of your son's names. And then there's my BIL (Steve's brother). His name is Thomas. His first son's name is Thomas. Makes sense. That son is the fourth generation Thomas. Fantastic. His second and third sons? Yeah. They each have a middle name of Thomas. Seriously people. Could you really not find a single other name among the thousands in your Baby Names book? Or couldn't you think of a single other male in your life or family that you might want to name your kids after? Sweet jesus...
1. Insert a picture of yourself here: I've posted a few lately. Scroll down to find them if you're that interested. ;)
2. How important is the way you look to you? Eh. Not that important unless I'm going out in public. And even then, it's often an afterthought.
3. How self-conscious are you when it comes to your appearance? Not too much.
4. How tall/short are you? 5'4"
5. What color hair do you have? Brown (am I supposed to say "brunette" here to make it sound more exotic?)
6. How long is it? About to my shoulders.
7. What would you call your body shape? Ick. Hourglass.
8. Are you happy with it? Well, I'm not unhappy with it, but dropping a few pounds certainly wouldn't hurt. But I never actually like do anything about it. LOL!
9. How do you dress, and why? I try to stay somewhat "trendy" without like baring my (overweight) naval or anything. LOL! I like fitted tees, cargo pants and jeans, etc. Think Hollister and Aeropostale. Comfortable and casual.
10. How long ago did you start dressing this way? I'd say once I got out of college.
11. Do your friends dress similarly to you? Some yes. Some no. Online friends? Yes. In real life? No. They're much preppier than I am.
12. How is the way you dress reflective of your personality? Fun, laid back, and trying desperately to not look "mom-like". LOL!
13. What parts of your appearance do people compliment? My eyes and my natural curls.
14. What parts of your appearance do people insult? Do people actually insult other people's appearances to their faces? LOL! That's so rude. Um, I guess my beer gut? I dunno.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
You and Your Life
1. Were any other names considered for you at birth? No clue who I would've been, had I been a boy. Other girl names were Melissa, Amanda, and Annemarie.
2. So how old will you be this year? I just turned 33 two weeks ago.
3. What is your astrological sign? Taurus
4. Do you check your horoscopes regularly, and do you believe in them? I used to be into that sort of thing. Not really anymore though.
5. What are your typical [starsign] qualities? Stubborness and a bad temper.
7. Who are you compatible with? Almost anyone except snotty chicks and snobs.
8. What kind of house do you live in? It was built in 1857 and I believe it has been classified as Federal style by people that claim to know about that stuff.
9. Who do you live with? Husband, 2 daughters, and 2 cats
10. How is your bedroom decorated? Walls are khaki, the quilt on the bed varies, and the furniture is all stuff Steve and I had growing up. [sigh]
11. Do you have posters on the walls? Nope.
12. Are your parents still together? Yes.
13. So what kind of person are you, in the good ways? Um, I can usually make people laugh, I'm a good listener, and the advice I give you isn't usually sugar coated.
14. And in the bad ways? I suck at managing my money, I lie to avoid confrontation, and the advice I give you isn't usually sugar coated.
15. In what ways do you annoy people? I become extremely defensive when criticized or blamed, even if it's constructive criticism or I actually did what I'm being blamed for.
16. What are your strengths? I have a great sense of humor, I can write (I suppose... I get paid for it and all), and I can talk my way out of almost anything.
17. What are your weaknesses? If you piss me off/talk about me even once, I have a hard time letting go and ever trusting you again.
18. Are you easily depressed? Eh. Not so much.
19. What makes you depressed? Yelling at my kids when I know it's just because I'm stressed.
20. Are you easily paranoid? Just when it comes to my kids.
21. What is your current mood? I'm pretty good.
22. Who are your close friends? So many onlne, I couldn't even name them all here. IRL it'd be my mom, my MIL and Steve.
23. Who are your favorite friends to talk with when you are upset? My online friends (they know who they are).
My day sucked. I now have a mom with such horrendous back pain, she (literally) can't stand up, and two kids (neither of whom napped today) that I swear were snorting coke at some point and who have absolutely NO regard for adults and discipline (at times).
Now let's throw in that my above-mentioned mom (who works at the girls' daycare) had already requested off work tomorrow to take my still-in-a-cast-and-can't-drive sister to her dentist appt. at 9:00 AM, then to her doctor to get a release form signed, and then to PayLess to turn in said release form, and then to the court house in the next town over at 2:00 (smack in the middle of Hannah's naptime) to take a test for some county job position. And that since my mom can't stand up, let alone sit and drive, the sister (that would be me) is now, by default, obligated to take her sibling all over creation throughout the day WITH her two children who are NOT going to be very happy campers.
And then (just for shits) let's throw in that my mom is seriously considering taking off work ALL week long to let her back heal (which I totally don't blame her for and completely understand). Because the daycare is over 30 minutes away, it's really not worth me taking them there, coming home, and then going back to get them in the afternoon. That means they'll be home all...week...long... Which wouldn't be so bad except I had plans for my two kid-free days this week including getting new tires put on my car before its inspection next week, painting our kitchen, etc. These things all now need to be postponed (tires really can't be) or done with the crack-snorting children in tow.
Oh yeah. And I have a HUGE deadline for May 31st, so in the midst of all of this, I also need to throw in 2 T-ball games, pictures for gymnastics (on a night she does NOT have class), a gymnastics class another night, and about 60 hours of actual work.
God. Help. Me.
If I don't blog much again this week, you know why. :(
Friday, May 19, 2006
1. We pee sitting down. Although I believe that being able to pee standing up has its advantages, since having children, my pee breaks are a justified reason to sit down and rest for like 1.2 seconds before having a child ask for a cup of milk, whine for a snack, or having to break up a fight between siblings.
2. Our bodies are smooth. All that hair on guys is icky.
3. Our breasts. Breasts are just fun. They're bouncy, jiggly, and just fun to look at.
4. Our sexual organs are WAY more attractive than yours.
5. We can do 8 things at one time without having to even think about it.
6. We can get you to do anything just by promising you a good blow job.
7. We don't have to deal with post-climax cleanup for the most part. Our fluids stay contained.
8. When we're having a particularly bitchy day, we can just blame it on PMS.
9. We can turn you into a blubbering fool and drop you to your knees with one swift kick to your nuts.
10. When we can handle drinking large quantities of beer, we're cool chicks. When you can handle it, you're a goddamn frat boy drunk.
11. We can have sexual relations with someone of the same sex, and it's considered hot and sexy. When you have sexual relations with someone of the same sex, it's kind of, um, unattractive to see.
12. We can hide it from the rest of the world when we're aroused. You? Yeah, um, not so much.
1. You can pee into small containers. This may not seem like much of a perk, but when you're stuck in a 3-hour traffic jam on the turnpike with no way to escape, you'd give your left tit to be able to pee into that empty Snapple bottle rolling around on the floor of your car. You know... the one you just chugged right before getting stuck in this 3-hour traffic jam with no where to escape.
2. Just once in my life, I'd love to be able to write my name on a wall or in the snow using my own urine.
3. You have no body part that you have to shave in order to not be judged.
4. You don't get a period. Because believe me, contrary to what you may think, shoving a cotton missle up our crotches for several days a month is not something we get off on.
5. You don't have to wear horrible contraptions made of elastic and wires to contain your breasts.
6. You can spit and belch in public and not have other guys look at you like you're a pig. If a chick does that, ALL the other women start pointing with looks of disgust on their faces. (Trust me. I know.)
7. You don't feel obligated to sit through hour after hour of gymnastics classes, T-ball practices, ballet recitals, and music lessons. I. Am. So. Jealous.
8. When you take care of your children for the day, you're "babysitting" out of the kindness of your heart, and we're supposed to thank you gratiously. When we take care of our children for the day, we have no right to bitch because it's what expected of us.
9. No one questions your beer bellies.
10. There's no such thing as a "Bad Hair Day."
11. Your skin, bath, and haircare products total about 3. Ours? Oh, about 23.
12. You can scratch your crotches in public. Oh, what I wouldn't give to rub my rug in front of other people...
Thursday, May 18, 2006
1. Accidentally stepping on a caterpillar, sending his Day-Glo green guts about a foot from his mangled body. (The little fuckers are taking over my back porch and patio. Be gone, you little bastards.)
2. Dead-heading my flowers. (There's nothing as satisfying as picking up dead things and throwing them in the dirt.)
3. Watching a girl I know get verbally bitch-slapped repeatedly, and not even by me. Sweet stuff, I tell ya.
4. Steve coming home at lunchtime again today. (Seriously dude... Wednesdays and Thursdays are my "alone time". Go away, you son of a bitch. Don't you have something to go shoot at in the woods or something?)
5. The friendly recorded "reminder" call I received from Blockbuster this afternoon. (Hey ass wipes... I returned those movies this morning already. Get a friggin' clue.)
6. Honda calling me. Again. (Assholes, I have two payments left on my car. That's it. Count 'em... two. Total. You'll get your money when I have some to give you. Deal with it, motha fuckers.)
7. A blog I read regularly hasn't been updated in awhile, and it needs to be done soon so I have something new to make fun of the blogger for.
8. The little bitch that rode my ass on the way to my mom's house tonight and then turned off into WalMart. Yeah, you. Listen. You're ugly. So you gunning through yellow lights while running your fingers through your hair and applying lipstick in your review mirror is pointless. You have no hope and are destined to be an old, bitter woman with 8 cats and no husband. You may as well get used to it now.
9. The young couple making out in the ice cream aisle of the grocery store this morning. Listen guys... I was once a
whore young girl in love too. I, too, fucked like a rabbit made love when I was your age. But I didn't do it in the grocery store, ya little pigs. Get a room. (Or go to a dark cemetary like I did.) Jesus.
10. Steve only carrying half of the beer in the basement to the kitchen tonight. Dude, it's Friday. Get your scrawny little ass back down there and get the rest.
11. Sucking up dead bee carcasses with the vacuum hose in Grace's room. (I'm noticing a direct relationship between this one and # 1 and # 2.Apparently, I need therapy (or a bigger vacuum bag...).
12. Letting one rip. I don't care how snooty you are... there's something deeply gratifying about passing good gas.
13. Writing this post to counter Melissa's Daisies in Her Ass post. The world is in balance again. (Don't ever do that again Melissa.)
1. Have serious um, "digestive issues" for the first half of the day. (Shut up. You did so need to know that about me.)
2. Drink coffee (or I'm a bitch).
3. Smoke cigarettes (or I'm a bitch).
4. Drink beer (or I'm a bitch).
5. Mentally bitch slap people (especially if I haven't had my coffee, cigarettes, and beer).
6. Laundry. Goddamn effin' laundry.
7. Wish I'd win the lottery.
8. Get online.
9. Ignore at least one "Unknown Caller" phone call.
11. Laugh (unless I haven't had my coffee, cigarettes, and beer)..
12. Pretend I'm a rock star (complete with cheesy facial expressions while singing into my pretend microphone).
13. Make fun of people (because I'm a bitch).
Band for a Lifetime:
Choose a band/artist and answer ONLY in titles of their songs.
1. Are you male or female? Something in the Way She Moves
2. Describe yourself. How Sweet It Is
3. How do some people feel about you? You've Got a Friend
4. How do you feel about yourself? I Will Follow
5. Describe your ex: Walking Man
6. Describe your current significant other: Handy Man
7. Describe where you want to be: Carolina In My Mind
8. Describe how you live: Country Road
9. Describe how you love: Slap Leather
10. What would you ask for if you had just one wish? Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight
11. Share a few words of wisdom: Shed a Little Light
12. Now say goodbye: You Make It Easy
I WANT: lots and lots of money. :)
I WISH: I could email my friend that I think might be in trouble.
I HATE: that Steve has been getting home from work around lunchtime a lot lately. Mama needs her "alone time," dear. Can you please find somewhere else to go?
I MISS: the lack of responsibility I had as a high school and college student.
I FEAR: the mailman.
I HEAR: nothing, right now. Sweet, sweet silence, oh how I cherish you.
I WONDER: if I'm going to have a third child one day.
I REGRET: many, many financial choices I've made in the past.
I AM NOT: a whore (anymore). LOL!
I DANCE: when I'm desperately trying to snap my miserable children out of their funk.
I SING: in the car.
I CRY: very rarely.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: this hot. (Snort! That was a joke.)
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: a sign for "flipping someone off" way more than I probably should.
I WRITE: because someone pays me to.
I CONFUSE: myself.
I NEED: a good night of drunken fun.
I SHOULD: really go to bed now.
I START: smoking around 8:00 in the morning.
I FINISH: smoking right before bed.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
I am a smoker. I have been since my freshman year of college, when I was envious of all the smokers that would hang out on the front stoop of our dorm, smoking their Camels, laughing, talking, and making fun of all the preppy people. My second semester, a girl down the hall and I switched roommates. My new roommate was one of those oh-so-interesting Front Stoop Smokers. And that was just the little push I needed to finally "cross over to the darkside."
So I've been smoking for 14 years now (minus the 18 months when I was pregnant with Grace and Hannah, when I quit cold turkey and started up again within 2 days of arriving home from the hospital after their births). That's a long time and a hell of a lot of cigarettes.
I think here is where I'm supposed to apologize to others for exposing them to my poisonous second-hand smoke. And where I'm supposed to apologize to myself and my family, for partaking in something that could very well kill me, leaving me dead, and deserting those that count on me in their lives. And where I'm supposed to say that I really wish I could quit, but that the addiction is just too hard to kick, and that I don't have the strength or willpower to do it.
But I won't do any of those things. Because the truth is that I like smoking. I like "escaping" from whatever's going on inside my house (arguing children, a loud TV, a pain in the ass husband... whatever) and walking outside on my back porch, where I can sit in the calm and quiet and just stare out into the field behind our house while I inhale that sweet, sweet nicotene. And I like the feeling of calm that comes over me when I take that first drag of a freshly lit cigarette.
I've met many cool people because I'm a smoker. See, smokers have a sort of "bond". When we're all standing around outside of whatever non-smoking establishment or home we're at, it's hard not to strike up a conversation. So you talk. You talk to all of the other people out there who are slowly killing themselves with this sweet addiction. I've met a ton of men, women, and couples because I'm a smoker -- most of them really nice people. I've had conversations with people I never would've spoken to if we didn't share our vice. And I'm happy about that because I love meeting new people.
If I wasn't a smoker, I don't know if I would've made it through the first 4 months of both of my kids' lives, when they had GERD (more commonly known as reflux) and filled my home with horrible ear-piercing screams from sun up until sun down. Being able to walk outside and light up my Marlboro Light was enough to give me a quick break, put myself back into the right state of mind, and head back inside to deal with my screaming babies.
So see, although I know that logically smoking isn't a good thing, and I know I should really quit, I don't want to. I like smoking. And I make no apologies for that.
I missed Sunday Scribblings and Monday Memories. [sigh] I suck. Hopefully, I can get my shit together and post my Self-Portrait challenge later today. In the meantime, I'm off to do some more research for my project on retaining a good credit score and how to budget for your retirement. Fun, fun. ;)
Monday, May 15, 2006
This is how it works: Comment on this entry and if you'd like to play, I will give you a letter. Write ten words beginning with that letter in your blog, including an explanation of why you chose it, and then pass out letters to those who want to play along. Chelle gave me the letter "M."
1. MOM: It's what I am. It's my favorite thing to be in the world, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
2. MONEY: The root of all evil. I never seem to have enough, and I'm always looking for ways to make more. Why can't everything just be free?
3. MANIAC: What I used to be. I didn't have an off switch and energy was never a problem. Now, I would prefer just to sleep. LOL!
4. MISERABLE: What the weather is supposed to be like all week. Cold, rainy, and dark. Blech.
5. MONOTONE: I hate people that speak in monotone. Drives me insane. How about a little emotion there, buddy.
6. MISSISSIPPI: My favorite state to spell. I've never been there. I just like all of the S's.
7. MEMORIES: My favorite thing in the world. I love memories. Memories are precious gifts and without them, we'd have nothing.
8. MAD DOG 20/20: What I used to drink in college. Gotta love a college budget and the willingness to suffer for just one night of fun.
9. MORE: What I always want in life.
10. MARLBORO: A company I have a love/hate relationship with.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
My day was so nice. We all went and saw my mom and my mother-in-law, Grace was an absolute angel today, (See? I knew she had it in her...), and I got some nice stuff. I thought I'd just post a few pictures of the people in my life that mean the most to me, and that make every day worth waking up for...
First, we have my girls. My very reason for living. Without these two beautiful children in my life, I truly don't know where I'd be. Thank you Grace and Hannah for allowing me to be your mom, and for teaching me that the things we think matter most in life, often don't.
Next is Steve. Yes, we have our moments where I want to rip various parts of your body off (and not in a good way). But those very parts are what helped make our two beautiful daughters. (And god bless you, because this picture, taken today, reminds me of what hell it must be to live with three people of the opposite gender. And it's only going to get worse. PMS is a bitch.) I love you, dude. And brace yourself now. Because when our two daughters reach their teenage years, you're going to witness more chicks in tears than you ever thought was possible.
And last, but absolutely not least, is my mom. Thank you Mom, just for being you. Often, it takes becoming a parent yourself before you realize how hard it is just to be a parent. It's the hardest job I've ever had to do, and yet, I remember you doing it effortlessly. And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, you became a grandmother, and go above and beyond daily when it comes to your grandchildren. You are Grace and Hannah's "second mother" and I wouldn't have it any other way. Mom, you rock.
Friday, May 12, 2006
** Hannah woke up screaming at 1 AM and I ended up sleeping with both kids for the remainder of the night. When I realized my choices were either to stand over Hannah's crib, half asleep, and pat her for an hour, or throw her in bed with Grace and I, I chose option B and called it a night.
** Grace got into my makeup while I was in the shower this morning and put some lipstick on. The problem is that it's that really permanent, long wearing "stain" type lipstick and it's still around her entire mouth. Nice. I absolutely, positively could NOT get it off.
** While outside this morning, Grace hit a golf ball with her golf club, which somehow managed, at top speed, to find me 40 feet away and make a direct bullseye connection with my ankle bone (that little bulbous part that sticks out). I dropped to the ground, writhing in pain, and literally half crying. Son of a bitch! Er, um... I mean great shot Grace... [grumble grumble] Really great shot...
** Came inside this afternoon and felt something tickling the side of me knee, under my jeans. Immediately thought TICK! and hightailed it to the bathroom to do some investigative work. After taking off my pants, shaking my pants, and finally turning both pants legs inside out, out dropped a fucking caterpillar. [shudder]
** Realized how lucky I was for not just smashing my pantleg with my hand when I felt something tickling it. Those little fuckers have fluorescent green guts. How gross would that have been?
** Also realized what a fucking wuss I am when I made Grace pick it off the bathroom floor and take it outside. Ick. (Maybe I'm more girly than I thought?)
** Tried every household product I could get my hands on, trying to get the damn lipstick off of Grace's face right before gymnastics class tonight until I finally used baby oil, which took it off immediately. Um, duh.
** Seriously considered ripping Steve's dick off tonight, but decided that not speaking to him for the next few days would give me much more personal satisfaction (because I'm mature like that). Dickface.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
1. Having to reboot my computer on a fairly regular basis because it's a 10-year-old, slow as syrup piece of shit that really just ought to be put out of its misery.
2. Not having sex for three days because my nephew was staying here so he could go turkey hunting with Steve every morning. I'm usually not one to want sex that bad, but I guess when you know you can't have it, you want it.
3. The opposing T-Ball team at Grace's game the other night. Out of the 15 kids on the team, literally 10 of them just played in the dirt the entire time they were in the outfield. The stupid ass coaches put them ALL in the infield, standing right along the baselines, making it like an obstacle course for Grace and her teammates when they were trying to run the bases. Get a clue coaches... (Uh oh. I think I just became one of those parents. [sigh])
4. The constant picking up of toys. It... must... stop...
5. The persistant "Unknown Caller" that keeps calling here, about 25 times a day, at all hours. Dude, I don't know you. My Caller ID says so. And if you want me that bad, leave a damn message, OK?
6. Realizing I may have to pimp myself out in order to earn enough money this month to pay off all the crap that happens to all be due... car insurance, home owner's insurance, car inspection (which I believe will require new brakes and rear tires), etc. Anyone want to pay me to send you some naked pictures of myself? (I'm kidding. It really wouldn't be worth the money.)
7. Being informed that Grace was being particular "challenging" at daycare yesterday, resulting in a trip to the daycare owner's office (equivalent to getting sent to the principal's office). [sigh]
8. Realizing that my husband apparently thinks I'm twice the size I actually am. Thanks dude. I love you too.
9. Feeling completely, absolutely disorganized in my life, relating to home, family, and work. Must... get... organized...
10. Realizing that all of my favorite reality TV shows are ending this week and next. [sniff] What the hell am I going to do with my time at night? ACK!
11. Coming to the realization that Melissa always posts Thursday Thirteens about things that make her smile or that she's grateful for, and that I always post about the things that totally piss me off or make me want to maim people. I'm so bitter.
12. The icky ticks that seem to keep finding their way onto my family members.
13. Receiving umpteen invitations for events in June already. Birthday parties, weddings, graduation parties, baptisms, recitals, lunch dates, etc. People, I have my own events to host. Leave me alone, will ya? (Note to the rest of you... if you can avoid it, do NOT give birth to your children in June. There are just WAY too many other things always going on, making it virtually impossible to plan a birthday party that all friends and family members can attend.)
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Of course, half of them will probably die because my children wouldn't listen to me. Half of the flowers are supposed to get full sun, and half are supposed to get partial shade. My darling girls, only concerned about the flowers' colors, kept mixing the two kinds up, so now I spend my days walking outside at random times and circulating the pots between the shade and the sun, so all of the little flowers are happy. Damn kids... [grumble grumble]
Moving on to more interesting things....
What the hell happened on American Idol last night? Holy shit! Color me shocked! Now, we all know I liked [insert name of booted off contestant]. I figured he'd be one of the final two. But I also realize that other people have different opinions than I do. It's all good. But how the HELL did Katharine get to stay and not [insert name of booted off contestant]? She forgot the words in her first song and she was not that good this week. I just hate when the person that most deserves to be leaving is told they're "safe" and some poor bastard who actually did well is given his walking papers. Stupid American voters...
[Tink, skip over the next paragraph, as I will be discussing "LOST" and don't want to ruin it for you...]
What about LOST? Good stuff, eh? So what do you all think is Michael's deal? Do you think he's actually one of the The Others? Or do you think he's being told by The Others that if he does this shit, he'll get Walt back? What's John's deal? I liked him much more when he wasn't so damn bitter all the time. Lighten up, dude. LOL! And I swear I thought I saw the actress that plays Libby in a Kay Jewelers commercial yesterday. Apparently, times get tough when you're bumped off a show. LOL! And um, Sawyer is HOT, dudes. Smokin' hot...
[OK Tink, you can come back now...]
And last but not least, Amazing Race. Thank... freakin'... god... Stupid whiney Barbie doll. Wahhh wahhhh wahhhhhh. Shut UP for the love of god!!!!!!!!!!! I can now say I hope the hippies win the race, but I won't be annoyed at all if one of the other teams wins instead. They're all good in their own way. It's gonna be good stuff next week, lemme tell ya...
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
This is me. I am a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister and a friend.
I am casual, relaxed, and down-to-earth. I'm usually barefooted, and I'm normally dressed like I am in this picture.
My hair is naturally curly, which is also very "me". Although I'd be lying if I said I haven't wished for smooth, straight hair on more than one occasion, I will say that my curls fit my personality perfectly. Like my curls, I go in many different directions. With the exception of my ability to tell it to you straight, there is nothing else straight about me. I am open-minded and free. So I love my curls because they fit me. Sometimes the curls are tight and frizzy and positively unmanageable. I'm OK with that, because I'm all of those things too sometimes. Sometimes the curls are virtually non-existant, and are limp, lifeless and boring. I'm OK with that too because I'm all of those things too sometimes. But often, my curls are fun and springy and relaxed. And those are the days I feel most like me.
This squatting position is also very "me". I have an almost 3-year-old and an almost 5-year-old. I am in this position often, since I pretty much live my life at their level. Some would say my mentality is at their level too. And I'm OK with that. Life is short and no one appreciates life more than children. I believe we should all get down at their level and try to recapure some of that youth.
Although reaching for the sky is always a good thing, keeping your feet planted firmly on the ground is an even better one. Some people prefer to leap and jump and fly, their feet on the ground as little as possible. But that's not me. Instead, I squat. I like the security that comes with bending down, with all of me as close to the ground as possible, ready to reach out a hand and brace myself if I should start to fall. I don't like the risks the flyers take. How their scenery is always changing and how they could fall at any minute. Instead, I like to establish my position in my life and in my family and then hold my ground, staying in that position for as long as possible. I'm a squatter.
My nose is a bit crooked due to a freak trampoline accident during my freshman year of college, but I'm OK with that. It gives me character, right?
My smile is crooked. It always has been. It used to bother me. But then I realized that life is not perfect. I am not perfect. And I'm OK with that. Perfect is boring.
I am comfortable with who I am. Sure, there are things I might change about myself, but for the most part, I'm cool with who I've become. I have a crooked face and a not-so-flat belly. I'm addicted to nicotene, I love my Miller Lite, my fingernails and toenails are never painted (and often dirty), I often don't wear makeup, and I have cellulite on my ass. And I'm OK with that. Because I have embraced all of those things about myself and I have squatted. This is where I am in my life, and this is what makes me me.
This is me and I'm OK with that.
Monday, May 08, 2006
So today was my birthday. I turned 33. Oy.
Now normally, I'm not a birthday kind of girl. They don't depress me, or excite me, or get me all worked up about how many years of my life have already passed. To me, my birthday is honestly just another day.
So Steve and I normally don't really "do" birthdays. Every year, he asks me what I want, every year I say, "Nothing," (and mean it), and every year that's exactly what he gives me. I'm truly, honestly fine with that. I really don't want anything and I usually hope Steve doesn't buy me a present, just because then I'll have to buy him one for his birthday and we'll start up the whole vicious cycle again.
Well, it must have been the mind-blowing sex we had last night, because Steve decided to head to the store after work today and pick me up some birthday presents. This is NOT usual and I was pretty damn shocked (and touched) when he walked in with a gift bag.
He handed it to me and I opened it to first find a bottle of perfume. Great! I love smelling good. So far, so good.
So I look in the bag again and see a flash of denim. I realize he's bought me some sort of jeans or capris and think, "Dang dude! I NEED me some new clothing!" so I'm pumped. Steve (being half-gay and all) has wonderful taste in things like clothing, jewelry, etc., so I'm expecting something fantastic.
So as I'm pulling them out of the gift bag, Steve says, "I didn't know what size you wear, so I bought the smallest size they had."
Um yeah. Apparently, poor Steve was shopping in the Women's section (with a capital "W") and so "the smallest size" was a size 16W. Now there's nothing wrong with needing that size, and at one time in my life, they probably would've fit me. But right now, I wear around a size 10, on a rare occasion needing a 12 depending on the cut of the pants/shorts/etc.
Dude, did you honestly hold those up and think they'd fit me? I looked at the tag and just started laughing, my mom starting laughing (her and my dad brought me an ice cream cake tonight), and I explained to Steve that the "W" on the size tag meant that these particular capris were meant for slightly larger women. He said, "So the 'W' stands for 'Wide'?"
Seriously, we were all laughing so hard we were crying. [sigh] He tried so hard. And as if pissing myself due to my hysterical laughter weren't enough, my mom makes the comment of "Well, at least he didn't buy you a card for black people this time."
Dear lord, the laughter... One year (when we still bought each other cards), Steve bought me a card from a line called "Mahogany". It's a line specifically geared toward the African American community, which Steve would've realized had he actually read the inside of the card. It had several references to "dark skin" and such. And um, the artsy picture of the woman on the front should have probably given him a clue since her skin was kind of, um, brownish. LMAO!
Seriously hon, I adore you. You make me laugh and you're truly one of my best friends. But dude, let's go back to our No Gifts for Birthdays rule. Because you're killing me, hon. Truly, truly killing me. LOL!
Did I ever tell you about the time I gave birth to my kids?
Grace's Birth Story...
I had been to the doctor on Wednesday, June 27, 2001 for my 40.5 week appointment. The doctor said I was still only 1 cm dilated, and he stripped my membranes and scheduled me for induction for the following Tuesday at 7AM. I came home that night, hung out with the in-laws, had a beer, and had sex. Still no signs of a baby.
I woke up at 2:00 AM with a hideous contraction and when I had another one 5 minutes later, I realized I should time them. I didn't wake Steve, but came downstairs and timed them. They were all exactly 5 minutes apart and were lasting between 45 and 60 seconds. After an hour of this, I went back upstairs to wake Steve and tell him we may need to go to the hospital, which was about 45 minutes away.
At exactly 3:20 AM I had a huge contraction and my water broke and gushed out all over the bed. I never saw Steve move so fast in my life! LOL!! We immediately got in the car and headed to the hospital. (It was the longest 45 mintues of my life.) By this point, I was having really bad back labor and yelling at Steve that I just wanted a fucking epidural!
We got to the hospital around 4:30 AM and they told me my water hadn't broken (afterwards, they realized that my water HAD broken at home which I told them all along, but that's neither here nor there), and that I was 3 cm and contracting regularly. (Whenever Steve and I were alone in the room I kept telling him to tell the fucking nurse that I wanted a fucking epidural because the back labor was absolutely excrutiating at this point.) Over to the labor and delivery room we went….
They got me to the L&D room and called God (AKA: the epidural guy) who came almost immediately and eased all of my pain. Within minutes I was laughing and joking and couldn't feel a darn thing. Boy did I love that guy. Seriously, if I had given birth to a son, I may have named him after that dude.
At 6AM we called our parents and told them to come down to the hospital. They checked me and I had dialated 3 more centimeters to 6 cm in 2 hours.
My parents, my mother-in-law, and my sister got to the hospital and we all hung out in the room talking and laughing and having a good ol' time. They all went to the cafeteria to grab something to eat around 8AM, the doctor came into my room in the meantime, told me I was complete, and that I should start pushing! Holy crap!
So he left, and Steve, the nurse and I spent the next hour or so pushing in between talking and laughing. (Funny side story: Steve had to keep checking the hallway because we didn't want our family members to get back from the cafeteria and walk right in the room and see me spread-eagled in their direction! No one expected it to go so fast!)
Once they got back from the cafeteria, Steve would go out in the hallway periodically to update the family. They were all sitting on the floor outside the door and couldn't figure out why there were women in all the other rooms moaning and crying and screaming, but whenever my door opened I was cracking up laughing. (Ummm, because I was a big wuss and had an epidural within minutes of arriving at the hospital and couldn’t feel a darn thing from my waist down!)
Anyway, at one point, the doctor called up to the room and said I should stop pushing for about 30 minutes because he wanted to finish the hysterectomy he was performing. No problem. It’s not like I could feel anything anyway… So Steve, the nurse, and I just hung out while we waited for the doctor to finish his surgery.
Around 11:45 AM, the doctor walked in and said the baby was coming. He stuck his head out in the hallway, told our moms and my sister to come in to watch, and told me to push. One push and out came the baby's head. One more and there was the rest of her!
He said "It's a girl!" and our moms let out blood-curdling screams (they had really wanted a girl but we were all absolutely convinced it was a boy... ummm, so much for intuition…) and scared the crap out of my dad in the hallway who thought they had dropped the baby or something.
Grace Elizabeth (AKA: "Gracie") was born at 11:55 AM on Thursday, June 28, 2001. She weighed 7 pounds 11 ounces, was 19.5 inches long, and has a full head of black hair. Her APGAR scores were 8 and 9 and she looked EXACTLY like Steve and his dad (which still freaks me out actually).
As for me, I had started to tear, so the doctor cut me, but then I continued to tear all the way to my rectum (Fun. Fun.) So between my 3rd-degree rip, the hemmeroid, and my damn boobs filling up with milk and then me allowing it to dry up immediately, I was in a bit of pain for a few days.
What's funny is that Hannah's birth story is the complete opposite of Grace's.
Hannah's Birth Story
OK. So Grace woke me up at 1:30 AM on June 12th, 2003. I was standing next to her crib patting her back when I had my first contraction. It felt pretty painful and thought, "Hmmm... this could be it." About 15 minutes later, I had another one. Grace was back to sleep, so I went back to bed and after 2 more contractions 10 minutes apart, I woke Steve. The doctor had said it would be a quick delivery and we have an hour drive to the hospital, so I decided we should go.
I called my parents and they got here around 3:00 AM. In the meantime, Steve and I were enjoying a nice cup of freshly brewed coffee. (See... not so bad yet, right?)
My mom, Steve & I headed to the hospital while my dad stayed at our house to take care of Grace. The contractions weren't too bad on the drive, but by the time we got to the hospital, they were about 5 minutes apart and getting more painful.
We got to the hospital at 4:00 AM and they put me in triage to monitor the contractions. I was already 5 cm dilated with my "waters bulging". Alrighty then. That doesn't sound so pleasant, now does it? OK.
Around 4:45 AM, they decided to move me to a labor room (once they had one open up... t was busy that night) and asked if I wanted an epidural. Um, didn't you get the memo lady? YES, I WANT ONE!!!! Okee dokee...
So I get to the labor room around 5:00 AM. Fine. The contractions start getting REALLY painful and I tell the nurse (and the other 3 people that come in and ask) that YES I want a goddamn epidural and to please tell the epidural guy that I will pay him a hefty sum to come to my room next.
Steve at one point looked at me, laughed, and quoted "Happy Gilmore", saying "Go to your happy place,". I almost ripped his nuts off, but there would've been witnesses, so I refrained.
OK. So the doctor comes in and says I'm now fully dilated (it's about 5:30 AM at this point). He says, "Let's get you your epidural and then I'll break your water." (It still hadn't broken.)
I should mention that at this point, the contractions were about 3 minutes apart and I was moaning and screaming and half crying. (I have no shame.)
I said, "Seriously. Where IS that man?! Give me SOMETHING! I don't care if it's not an epidural! Give me a shot of vodka or something!" They're all laughing. I'm, uh, not.
About 5 minutes later I'm SCREAMING because there is now NO space between contractions. None. I can't catch my breath, I'm writhing in pain and I'm about to rip the bed rail off. My mom's trying to comfort me, Steve's standing there making freakin' phone calls to his employees, and the doctor and nurses ALL leave to go get that DAMN epidural guy.
Just then, I get the incredible urge to push and intense pressure in my butt. I yell that I NEED to push. My mom goes darting out into the hall, grabs a nurse and says, "My daughter wants to push!"
All of a sudden, it was like a scene from ER. Doctors and nurses came flying in, dragging the epidural guy. The epidural guy starts giving his speil, "These are the risks... this is what it is... blah, blah, blah..."
I look at the man with the devil in my eye and scream, "I've HAD one! Give me the epidural!!!!" The nurse is behind him getting ticked off and saying, "Just GIVE her the epidural!" (Not because she was annoyed at me... she was annoyed at the epi guy.)
The doctors and nurses are yelling at each other, the epi guy is getting flustered and running from one side of the bed to the other, they're dropping the bed and hooking up the stirrups, I'm screaming in pain, and Steve's still making phone calls. (Just kidding.)
So all of a sudden, the doctor says, "Allison, I'm going to have you deliver. The baby's heart rate is falling really low and rising again and I don't want to wait 5 minutes for the epidural to kick in. I'll break your water and I promise you'll deliver immediately."
I'm like, "Fine! Just get it OUT!!!"
He breaks my water and yells, "PUSH!!!" I took a deep breath, let out a scream like an Indian warrior woman, and pushed like no other woman ever has (probably not true, but it felt that way).
The head came out and all I saw was black hair. The cord was wrapped around her neck twice (the reason her heart rate had started to drop), so he unwrapped it and yelled, "One more push!" I pushed again and there she was!
I glanced down and said, "It's a girl!!" But then I wasn't sure and said, "IS it a girl?" The doctor looked and said, "Yup!" and looked at Steve and said, "It looks like you're buying a boy puppy if you want testosterone in the house. Now cut this cord!"
I then raised my head, looked at the doctor and said, in all seriousness, "Natural childbirth really sucks." He almost fell off the stool laughing.
OK. Now once things calmed down, the doctor explained that he hadn't wanted to wait for the epidural to take effect b/c he wasn't sure why the baby's heart rate was dropping. And since he knew it wouldn't take long, he decided he wanted me to deliver instead.
He explained all of this to me, and then looked at the nurse and said, "Did you see her yell at Dr. Large?" (Dr. Large is the epi guy.) "When she screamed that she still wanted the epidural, after his big speech, I almost laughed out loud!" (Gee, glad I could entertain all of you as I as I felt my loins being ripped apart.)
The good news was that I didn't rip at all and didn't need even a single stitch (one good thing in the fiasco).
So two different labors, two different deliveries, and two different kids. But with the same result... the people that make my world go round.