Thursday, September 29, 2011

Beer Goggles and Baby Weight (TMI)

"Ugh!'"
I was standing in front of the mirror, recently, lamenting the collateral damage of The Bun's arrival, thinking that Lean Cuisines and a day at the spa are not going to be enough to fix this mess.  Yeah, I'll admit it.   I was totally throwing myself a pity party when The Firefighter comes up behind me and asks, "What's wrong, Mama?"

I look at him like he's stupid....can he not see what I'm seeing in the mirror?  "This!" I say, as I gesture to the deflated, swollen, stretch mark covered mess I call my body.  

What I see in the mirror.


"Oh, I see it, alright, " he says as he kisses my neck.  "I see one hot mama!"

What he saw in the mirror.


Yes, he can occasionally say the right thing at the right time.  And yes, he was sober.   Good job, Boo. I should give you a sticker.  Still, I think something is wrong with his eyes...and after some consideration, I think I know what it is.

Two words for y'all.  Beer Goggles.   The beer and crappy pick up lines are optional.  In fact, I know from ten years of bartending, that every man owns at least one pair and that the longer a man has been married, the more likely he is to to employ them - if he wants to stay married.  I think The Firefighter has them permanently attached to his head...must be my sense of humor, 'cuz I ain't no Adrianna Lima.

Though, beer goggles or not, The Firefighter is good for my self esteem...when he emails me something like this:

I may not be Fred Flinstone, baby, but I can make your bedrock.



He questions my sanity when I email him something like this:


Well, what do you expect, Boo, when you send me crappy pick up lines?



If the barn's a rockin', don't come knockin'.  

Peace out, y'all!




Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Have You Ever Been So Tired....

That you find EVERYTHING hilarious?  Yep, me too.

Today, I was so tired, it took 3 tries to get dressed in clothes that, you know, were clean, matched and right side out.  I STILL managed to forget to brush my hair (thank goodness messy buns are totally right now) and put on my husband's flip flops without noticing and left for work.

Of course, my student had to point all this out first thing.  I told him it was a new trend and he should try it....(The speed with which I can lie to kids is frightening - but it's all for their own good, right?)


Constipated baby = fussy baby = awake baby = tired mommy and daddy = slap happy teacher

You get the picture.  I was okay until the following texts from The Firefighter.

Him:  We have lift off - from the rear!
Me: Yay! Constipation marathon is over!
Him: Yeah, I think she levitated about a foot.  But now it's like soft serve machine that won't stop.  It's a total poopsplotion.

About ten minutes later...

Him: I would just like you to know I have changed 5 diapers in a row with fecal matter in them.
Me:  What?  You want an award?
Him:  No, I want the immunity idol and the million dollars.

Now, I am not typically the type that laughs at poop humor.  However, I literally laughed out loud when I was trying to hide the fact, from my student, that I was looking at my cell phone!  Not only that, I couldn't STOP laughing.   Poor kid, he totally thought his teacher lost her mind.

When I finally calm down, my student does the strangest thing....he starts sniffing his socks! WTH!  Boys are so weird!  That totally did me in.  I'm still laughing, while I write this.

Apparently, uncontrolled laughter is my body's way of saying...."we tired, yo - GO TO BED!"

So watch out, Boo!  We will be flipping a coin for it tonight!



Sunday, September 25, 2011

For Heaven's Sake Don't Ask Her to Say....

Fork, firetruck, basket, or even her full name in front of great grandma.  I'm terrified the size of Miss Chatterbox's "four" letter word vocabulary might give great grandma a stroke....or prompt her to call CPS.

You see, Miss Chatterbox, in addition to being a non stop motor mouth (I know it will cause problems later in school, sorry kid, but detention is character building - I would know), has a slight speech impediment and the standard toddler lisp, that turns ordinary words into a more interesting interpretation.

Today, threw even me, a seasoned toddler parent, into shock.  By seasoned, I mean flying by the seat of pants.  Just trying not to cause her to spend years in therapy.

With safety in mind, I attempted to teach, Miss Chatterbox, her full name as well as mommy and daddy's names.  A seemingly mundane task, right?  WRONG.

Now, I don't want to give out to much "real" info, but I'll lose the humor if I don't give some.  Our last name rhymes with corn and her middle name rhymes with pin.  So I say her full name, and ask her to repeat it.

Me:  Say your name.
Her: Aubin Love Porn
Me: Umm, no Sweet Pea, try again.
Her: Aubin Love Porn  - More animatedly, complete with booty shaking.
Her: Aubin Love Porn, Aubin Love Porn.

Sweet baby Jebus, what am I gonna do with this one?

Monday, September 19, 2011

Guess Who Said...

"Why are you packing that blanket?"
"They will charge us for it even if we don't take it. They expect us to. "
"This is a hospital not a Holiday Inn, you clepto!"


"Dear Lord, Please let this kid poop soon, and let me not be the one to find it.  Thanks. Amen"


"No, her Dad owns a farm.  She learned early how to work the hoes."
"Think about what you just said."
Blank Look
"So, you're saying your boss used to be a pimp...on a farm.  So that makes you a....."



After a doc asked a whole bunch of complicated questions from someone who couldn't talk.
"Even us dumb firefighters know to ask yes or no questions of a barely responsive person.  Guess they don't teach common sense in med school."


"I'm sorry, but we are not nicknaming our kid, Rehab."
"How about Detox?"
"WTH?!"
"What, just trying to give them realistic expectations."
"How about if you call the girls anything like that I call you, Bobbit....how's that for a realistic expectation?"

Friday, September 16, 2011

Letter to my Daughters

Dear Girls,

Right now, I'm sitting on the couch next to you both, watching, you, Bun, laugh in your sleep, and, you, Miss Chatterbox, dance naked to The Jungle Book.  I feel nothing, but love and peace sitting here with y'all.  If I could capture a moment and put it in a bottle, this would be one, I'd love to have forever.

But soon enough, y'all will start to grow up and other voices will get louder than Mommy's.  Before that happens, I want you to know a few things.

1.  I love you, just as you are.  You are perfect, just as you are.  You are beautiful, just as you are.  You are awesome, just as you are.  If someone doesn't like you, JUST AS YOU ARE, then they aren't worth your time.  Don't change who you are.

2.  Laugh, my loves, alot and loudly.  Find the joy in every day.  It's easy to laugh now, but there will come a day when it gets harder to find the reasons to.  Your momma once let the world steal her laughter - it took your arrival to bring it back.  Please don't make the same mistake.

3.  Always be honest - with yourself and with others. You will save yourself so much trouble.  Trust is easy to lose, hard to regain.  Honesty is not always the easy route, but trust me, my loves, it is the best way.

4.  Dream big.  They may not all come true - and that's okay - but it is the hope that they MIGHT, that keeps us moving forward.

5.  Find a way to be happy, where you are, with what you already have.  It's okay to want "stuff," but if you are basing your happiness on things - you will never truly be happy.  Mommy and Dadu want nothing more than for you girls to live a happy, fulfilled, and contented life.

6.  When it comes to boys - wait.  When you find the one, he will be worth waiting for.  NEVER SETTLE.    Wait until you find the yin to your yang, the one who is half of your whole, the one who completes what you never knew was missing.  Trust me, darlings, you will know them when you meet them.

Lastly, sweethearts, know that your Mommy and Dadu, love you more than anything.  We loved you, before we knew there was a you to love and we always will love you - No matter what.


Love you always and forever,
Mommy

Then Comes the Baby in the Baby Carriage...

"Hey Doc, I think my contraction maker is broken."

Silence.

Yeah, my OB didn't much care for my sense of humor that early in the morning either.  Well, it's not like I planned on my water breaking at 3 am.  Or on 2 hours of hall pacing and still no significant action.

Apparently, my uterus is such a comfy place it takes an eviction, swat team style, to get the babies out of there.

But still, I was unconcerned.  After all, my reputation proceeded me and the whole floor was prepared for my arrival.   I suppose that's the closest I'll ever get to feeling like a celebrity.  They totally rolled out the red carpet.....or were just afraid of the liability - whatever, I totally felt like Angelina Jolie.  

"I got this," I thought.  Surely, it couldn't be worse than 22 hours of hard labor and 3.5 of pushing - with a couple of "codes" thrown in for fun.    Besides, we had A PLAN.

I should have known better.  Especially, since I'm a Wing It Wendy*, when it comes to anything other than work (with work, I'm totally type A).   So, since the clock was ticking, it went something like this:

No contractions = lots of pitocin = epidural = problems for Amber = emergency C-Section

I heard The Firefighter start to protest because he knew I didn't want a c -section, but they made it short and to the point.  "We can't help her until the baby's out."  He didn't make another peep - poor guy, I truly wouldn't have wanted to be in his shoes.

Next, the OB attempted to ask me about a tubal - like I was in a condition to answer....but the anesthesiologist answered for me.  "No time," then looking at The Firefighter he said, "Do you love your wife?  Then get a vasectomy.  It's no big deal for you, I promise - I've had one, but another baby could be very bad for her."   Guess, I won't be giving Michelle Duggar a run for her money.  Damn you, uterus, I wanted a reality show too - NOT!

Honestly though, that pissed me off.  I sure as hell wasn't planning on dying right then and there, and how dare they worry my Boo like that.  It was also frustrating, because I couldn't say anything to comfort him.

However, this entire transaction took less than 5 minutes.  Then, I was excitedly whisked down the hall to the OR.  By excited, I mean scared shitless - 'cuz this was gonna hurt like a  _____ (Fill in with your favorite expletive) without anesthesia.   The anesthesiologist was hurriedly trying to get a glorified Novocaine to work in time.   I wasn't the only scared party in that OR either.  By the Doctors' faces, I could tell this was so far out of the ordinary, that they didn't know what to do or expect....not exactly comforting, if ya know what I mean.  

As it turns out, The Bun's head was too big to engage into the birth canal, and she was shoved up so far under my ribs, transverse, that she never would have made it out any other way.  Like I said, my uterus must be the bomb diggity, 'cuz The Bun wasn't leaving.

Recovery room memories are somewhat more interesting.  After copious amounts of Valium (the only thing they had yet decided I could be given), I began to slide in and out of consciousness and have the craziest dreams.  Like ones where The Bun chews her way out of the womb, has sparkly skin and speaks to me in a perfect British accent ( Hullo, Mum!).  I guess rereading Breaking Dawn, wasn't the best pre-labor idea.
 



Other times, the ceiling tiles talked to me....yeah, it was too weird for me, even doped up.  I kept trying to ignore them, but they were persistent little buggers.  It was all good until I started talking back.  LOL - my poor Boo, what he must have thought.

I have to give props to The Firefighter.  He handled it all like a pro.  He was everything I needed him to be and more.  Thank you!  I love you more than life itself, Boo!

So, here we are, two weeks later, and everyone is healthy, healing, happy and heading in the right direction.   But as a friend once said, "It wouldn't be you, if you didn't have a story."  So there you have it Ladies and Gentlemen, the story of The Bun's arrival.

THE END.








* no offense to the Wendys of the world.








Monday, September 12, 2011

"You May Walk Into Burning Buildings..."

"But I had a surgery WITHOUT anesthesia.  That totally out badasses your piddly little fire walking."

"Yeah, but did you have 50 lbs strapped to your back and no visibility?"

"NO, but I had 30 lbs attached to my waist, and I GROW PEOPLE.  What's your superpower?"


Booyah! Amber -1   The Firefighter - 0

So, as you may have gathered from my conversation this morning with The Firefighter, The Bun has finally made her much anticipated, but fashionably late, debut.


World, meet The Bun.   Bun, meet The World.

9.3 lbs
22 inches long


Yeah, I like to birth 'em fully grown and ready for college.  Saves money.  I'm all about frugality.


Welcome, baby girl!  Mommy and Dadu love you very much and we are glad you are here!


Who rule the world? - GIRLS!