Each year I do a blog about what I am thankful of.
I actually started one day of the whole 'Facebook daily thankful' but then realized that would be all of my material.
So. As I am sitting in my bed, with my electric blanket pulled up to my vagina, clean laundry in piles at my feet, a snoring daughter to my right and Karma wedged in there as well, I will write what I am truly thankful for at this precise moment.
I am thankful for coffee.
And while it may seem stupid or small, as long as I have coffee in my cabinet then I can find happiness. A hot cup of coffee does wonderful things for me. It relaxes me, it is delicious, it reminds me of my grandmother. Coffee. Yum.
I am thankful that my children are not assholes.
I do not know how or why but they are not greedy or selfish or rude. My children are not vain they are not stupid nor are they ignorant to the needs of others. They do not talk back, slam doors are issue curses at my soul (at least in my presence.) They are loving and funny and wise.
I am thankful for Karma.
She is a silly, floppy happy pitbull who loves her momma (Emma) with every ounce and tremble of her body. I am thankful that she howls at us when we come home every day and that she walks with me every morning.
I am thankful for my families ability to heal.
No matter what happens in life, laughter will always come back. Losing Jorden was one of the hardest things that we faced together. But we hugged tighter, cried together and slowly made it through. I don't know how. But we did it together.
I am thankful that I have my home.
I am thankful that my son started kindergarten in it and graduated high school here as well. Not many people can say that. My kitchen cabinets are falling off the hinges and Karma has eaten the trim off of my front door. But inside the laundry room, the wall shows the growth of both of my children over the last 10 years.
I am thankful for my job.
I say Job and it doesn't sound like the right word. It is my passion. My heartbeat.
It is the place that I was always supposed to be.
I am thankful for my poofy.
My electronic cigarette. My health was made better because of it. A promise was kept to my children because some dude or dudette invented it.
A year and a half no smoking. That's what's up.
I am most thankful this year of Brandee and Mandy.
They are deeply embedded into the hearts of myself and my children. They are not simply friends. They are family.
They raise me up.They spoil me. They love me. They tolerate it when I whine.
They dance when I sing random songs and clap for me when I am done.
They listen when I bitch. They tell me the truth. They love my children...and my dog.
They pull out a bed into the living room and make it all fluffy for me on movie nights, Mandy picks up my daughter from school every day.
They go to Emmas music recitals and all of Shanes plays.
When I walk in circles, they let me finnish.
If I whine and throw myself to the floor, they laugh at me.
When I do a suck ass 'robot' dance move, they tell me that I am getting better.
They buy me the teeny cans of diet coke, because they make me feel like the HULK when I drink them and it makes me happy.
Mandy lets me sing into her stethoscope at the top of my lungs and even turns down the radio so she can listen better.
Mandy cooks dinner for all of us every single night.
Mandy loves me only.
Brandee walks with me every day, even in the rain.
She tells me that I am beautiful, even when I am not.
She sits with me in hospitals and makes me button necklaces because I like to chew on them.
When I am sick, she lets me fluff her boobs and lay on them.
Brandee loves me only.
They do not do it because it is easy for them.
They do it because it is hard, but worth it.
They do it because for them, we are their family too.
No matter what life throws at us, we are there for each other. We hug it out, sing it out or pout it out.
4 years ago I sat at home, alone. The kids were gone and everyone was unavailable. I picked up the phone and called Brandee. She invited me over for coffee, and I have never left.
Because of them, I am never alone.
Because of them, I am stronger.
Talk is CHEAP, I am not.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Monday, November 25, 2013
Daughters...
I remember holding my daughter against my breasts and capturing her first smile in my memory.
I remember her first giggle, was proud that her first word was "mom" and cried tears of joy when she took her first steps twords her big brother.
That sweet innocent child, has made way for a twelve year old, well spoken, intelligent hormonal (almost) teen with boobs and an eyeroll.
She is almost always mad at me.
I do almost everything wrong.
When I sing, (like I always do) the words that I sing are apparently the wrong ones.
Patience takes a new meaning. When Emma gets irritated she changed into an Alien.
You know....
I know that she is my creation. My very own veritable frankenstein. Pieces of myself are mixed in with pieces of her father and of her own uniqueness.
She makes me laugh. Hard. Surprising laughter that is topped with pride that she could make me laugh like that, very few people can.
The other day, while perusing the isles of walmart for "My vagina is bleeding so bad that I want to chop it off" supplies, I came across the 'teen' section.
Behold.
Shelves of shiney multi-hued boxes, advertised specifically for my daughter.
Or rather, for myself. Emma would approve of a black box with plain old pads inside...invisible ones.
Ones I could not talk about.
I grabbed the shiney-est box and threw it in my cart.
I picked up Brandee and Once I got home I approached Emma cautiously.
"Look what I got you." I held the shiney magical box in my two hands.
(I really wanted to sing, but I didnt because Emma would bite my entire head off.)
So I just held it in my hands.
Emma was reading in bed, she glanced over. "What is it?"
"Pads."
"No."
"Emmmmmaaaaa, I'm going to open one and show you how to do it."
"No."
"Fine. I will talk and you will listen then."
Then Brandee chimed in "Emma you should be happy you have a mom to talk to about this. My stepdad brought me depends when I started......do you KNOW what Depends are Emma?"
She laughed "Yes. I do"
I continued..."Im going to make you a little bag with these, and little wipes and THEN we will have tea..."
"What? TEA?"
"TEA?!" Brandee exclaimed.
"Yes! Tea. You know, we will have a lunch and wear hats and such. Its a tea."
Emma just looked at me incrediously.
Brandee just looked at me incerdiously.
"Tea?"
"YES! Moms do that I think."
Later, I was talked down from my tea idea..... It's okay, im use to it.
Every idea that I have ever had of having a daughter is slowly wasting away. Pink? No.
Cute capes with metallic buttons? Pshhh.
It is only natural that my idea of a "The day you started your period" scrapbook page has been trash canned. But it is okay.
Tonight, before dinner, Emma was laying on the ground and she called me over to her. I rushed over "What is wrong? Did your vagina start bleeding?!"
"What?! No."
"Okay. Did you put some of the shiney pads in your bag?"
"Am I supposed too?"
"Yes! What is going to happen if you start at school and you have none?"
"That would be bad Emma." Shane chimes in
"Its okay. It gives me time to put some inspiring notes inside your pads."
"What??? notes? WHY??"
"So if you are away from me when it happens. They will say things like "Dont be scared I am with you in spirit..."
"NO!" she exclaimed
"WHY!?" I pouted "You dont want me there in spirt?!"
"No. I do not want your spirit in my underwear."
SO....I guess the patience goes both ways. When she stated that heartbreaking fact, she did so with much patience.
I remember her first giggle, was proud that her first word was "mom" and cried tears of joy when she took her first steps twords her big brother.
That sweet innocent child, has made way for a twelve year old, well spoken, intelligent hormonal (almost) teen with boobs and an eyeroll.
She is almost always mad at me.
I do almost everything wrong.
When I sing, (like I always do) the words that I sing are apparently the wrong ones.
Patience takes a new meaning. When Emma gets irritated she changed into an Alien.
You know....
Complete with drool and teeth chomping.
I know that she is my creation. My very own veritable frankenstein. Pieces of myself are mixed in with pieces of her father and of her own uniqueness.
She makes me laugh. Hard. Surprising laughter that is topped with pride that she could make me laugh like that, very few people can.
The other day, while perusing the isles of walmart for "My vagina is bleeding so bad that I want to chop it off" supplies, I came across the 'teen' section.
Behold.
Shelves of shiney multi-hued boxes, advertised specifically for my daughter.
Or rather, for myself. Emma would approve of a black box with plain old pads inside...invisible ones.
Ones I could not talk about.
I grabbed the shiney-est box and threw it in my cart.
I picked up Brandee and Once I got home I approached Emma cautiously.
"Look what I got you." I held the shiney magical box in my two hands.
(I really wanted to sing, but I didnt because Emma would bite my entire head off.)
So I just held it in my hands.
Emma was reading in bed, she glanced over. "What is it?"
"Pads."
"No."
"Emmmmmaaaaa, I'm going to open one and show you how to do it."
"No."
"Fine. I will talk and you will listen then."
Then Brandee chimed in "Emma you should be happy you have a mom to talk to about this. My stepdad brought me depends when I started......do you KNOW what Depends are Emma?"
She laughed "Yes. I do"
I continued..."Im going to make you a little bag with these, and little wipes and THEN we will have tea..."
"What? TEA?"
"TEA?!" Brandee exclaimed.
"Yes! Tea. You know, we will have a lunch and wear hats and such. Its a tea."
Emma just looked at me incrediously.
Brandee just looked at me incerdiously.
"Tea?"
"YES! Moms do that I think."
Later, I was talked down from my tea idea..... It's okay, im use to it.
Every idea that I have ever had of having a daughter is slowly wasting away. Pink? No.
Cute capes with metallic buttons? Pshhh.
It is only natural that my idea of a "The day you started your period" scrapbook page has been trash canned. But it is okay.
Tonight, before dinner, Emma was laying on the ground and she called me over to her. I rushed over "What is wrong? Did your vagina start bleeding?!"
"What?! No."
"Okay. Did you put some of the shiney pads in your bag?"
"Am I supposed too?"
"Yes! What is going to happen if you start at school and you have none?"
"That would be bad Emma." Shane chimes in
"Its okay. It gives me time to put some inspiring notes inside your pads."
"What??? notes? WHY??"
"So if you are away from me when it happens. They will say things like "Dont be scared I am with you in spirit..."
"NO!" she exclaimed
"WHY!?" I pouted "You dont want me there in spirt?!"
"No. I do not want your spirit in my underwear."
SO....I guess the patience goes both ways. When she stated that heartbreaking fact, she did so with much patience.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
How tweakers save the world.
People ask when the Zombie apocalypse is coming. I say, its already here bitches. Look around you.
You can see it everywhere.
The sunken in cheeks. The dark circles under the eyes. Broken off blackened teeth. Yep. Tweakers. The Zombies of the new age.
They gather at night, in dirty broken down homes that 'they' think are immaculate (because they stay up all night long squatted in front of their electronic cluster pulling out wires and organizing the shit that they traded their last bike for.
They plot revenge against people who do them wrong and spew what they call "real talk" to each around lung fulls of plastic white smoke.
These Zombies believe in a false sense of honor. And every once in awhile can come to "care" for another human being as one of their own. (I quotation-ed the word care, because it is my belief that they only mimic human emotion.)
They roll play.
This blog has been In the works for quite some time. I believe that I have had enough experience dealing with these zombies, as I have lived next door to one for damn near 13 years.
I have loved one as well. Gotten one cleaned up, (with regular dental visits even!) and immersed in family life for almost a year.
My experience was that he didn't understand the family dynamic.
At my family meetings, at first he would hunch down and stare at us all from beneath his hat like we were going to rip him off at any notice.
Soon enough, he was passing around happy items and becoming human once again.
Have you seen Warm bodies?
It was much like that, only when he talked I would listen with a look on my face much akin to this:
But that is beside the point. If you have watched the walking Dead then you have seen my Ex-boyfriend. You know, one of the Zombies that clamber up to the fence growling and snarling for his next fix of Meth....er brains.
Yep. More then once I've said "HEY! That reminds me of _________" Fill in the line yourself people. Snitches get stitches in the West.
They are not bad "people"
(Notice the quotations again?)
In fact my neighbor is THE BEST neighbor ever. I wouldn't want another. I'm quite confident in her neighbor-ism. I care for her even.
The reason for the TITLE of my blog is coming about now.
The other day I met my Ex-husband at a dusty dirty appliance part store. He was fixing my dryer.
This appliance store was on 9th street. Right next to the recycling plant.
While chatting with Chris, I saw a Zombie walk by carrying a piece of metal that was twice his size (that is another sign...super human Zombie strength.)
He was walking with that Zombie walk, heaving the huge thing down the street, I think he was so happy with his find that I noticed something resembling LIFE in his eyeballs.
That's when it hit me!
Tweakers are the BEST recyclers EVER. They go through my trash, filter out all of the recycling, replaced my trash neatly and move on to the next can.
In fact I DO NOT recycle exactly for that reason.
When people come over, drink a pop and try to save a can I order them to throw it in the garbage for my friendly neighborhood Zombies.
People look at me weird.....(It is something I am used to)
But it is true. That man/woman has a job to do every Monday morning. They get up.....er...stay UP simply to go through our trash and find all of the bottles, cans and recycled items so they can turn them in for cash.
It happens without fail.
They will strip wiring for copper to recycle, glass as well.
HELL. If we did not have the Zombies, maybe our earth would be even more polluted. So there you have it. That is how tweakers save the world.
So if you live in a neighborhood, where a man in a bike hunches over your trash can every Monday morning, don't fret. It's good for the bottle.... Its good for the can.
For these Re-People, I salute you. That shit is hard. You deserve an award, a trophy...or a kickass T-shirt.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Why Fucking fixes EVERYTHING...
While in a conversation with a group of friends tonight I had an epiphany. I needed to write a blog about the discussion that we were having....right this second.
I doubt that I will make any new friends ...or hell maybe I will.
I have always had friends who complain about their husbands (boyfriends...ect) need for sex.
I have always rolled my eyes and once or twice stomped my feet in response.
Why?
I think it is fucking ridiculous.
Most of the time these complaints come from women who are tired, have headaches and feel like they have no time for sexual intercourse with their mate.
I say... who SAYS it has to be intercourse? What is wrong with a little afternoon handy?
Lunchtime blowjobs anyone?
My point is, most of the time my friends have complained about their husbands sexual appetite and have viewed it as a much disregarded chore that HAS to be done every other Wednesday. (Before bed but after the kids are bathed and tucked in.)
My friends would later complain that their significant other has shown a lack of interest in her neither region. "I just don't understand, he use to love to stare at my boobs...now he barely even looks at them! He is cheating I know it!"
Ummmm HELLO!!?? Have you not been keeping said boobs from his face for the last 3 months while complaining about your stressed out work week?
Maybe he is not cheating.....Maybe he has just learned better. (Or maybe he is busy eyeing other boobs....you know the ones that cannot be taken away from him because he is being a bad boy....either way.)
Do I think that sex is important in a relationship? DUH. Yes I do. Let me explain what sex does for a couple. It brings you closer, it is fun. It feels good. You can have laugh sex, which my favorite kind of sex only after rough sex and screaming sex.
Lets go down the list of excuses that women (And sometimes MEN give)
Headache:
If your head is pounding...have sex. Your body will release endorphins that can make your headache a thing of the past. If it doesn't... well you had fun trying.
Stress:
Sex is the BEST thing for stress.
Example: I had THE worst day EVER at work. KinderCare had basically bitch slapped me the entire day... THE ENTIRE DAY.
I walked into my home, approached my then boyfriend and said "I have had the WORST most stressful day ever. My neck is tight, my head is pounding and if I hear the word 'Corporate' one more time I am going to sock someone in the nuts."
"Ohhhh I'm sorry that sucks. What can I do?"
"I need 3...no....4 orgasms stat. Go."
Guess what? My neck was no longer tight, my head was not the body part that was pounding and if someone had screamed corporate at the top of their lungs, I would not have given a shit.
In fact the rest of my evening was peachy. We laughed so hard that I farted twice and the next day I was ready to face KinderCare once again.
Sex people. That's what's up.
Boredom:
Maybe you are bored with the same old penis. You know every vein and hair follicle by heart and just have no interest in it any more. "Meh" is your response when he stands outside of the shower and does the 'weenie swing' that so many men are fond of.
Well! This is 2013. Any good sex store has every kind of harness, sleeve and couple sex toy known to man (If you need any tips I can help...I use to sell them...recall?) If that is not enough, you could try heading down to your local Hobby Lobby and buying all of the proper materials to Bedazzle your very own penis.
Jewels and Penises?? Now we're talking!
This is a subject that I cannot "feel you" about. I cannot pat my friends in sympathy to their husbands beastly wants. You need to fuck your husbands, wifes and lovers.
You need to not make excuses because that is just ridiculous. Once he gets his beastly urges under control (or takes them out on the shower floor, the next door neighbor or lives miserably forever) You will just think that he no longer wants your vagina and that will be a whole other talk that wont end nicely for my friends either.
So from me to you: Don't complain.
Love the fact that your husband wants to hump your boobs. in fact make him a special badge that says #1 BOOB HUMPER the next day and sneak it into his wallet.
He will laugh, you will laugh and if you are lucky...you will laugh so hard that you fart....twice.
I doubt that I will make any new friends ...or hell maybe I will.
I have always had friends who complain about their husbands (boyfriends...ect) need for sex.
I have always rolled my eyes and once or twice stomped my feet in response.
Why?
I think it is fucking ridiculous.
Most of the time these complaints come from women who are tired, have headaches and feel like they have no time for sexual intercourse with their mate.
I say... who SAYS it has to be intercourse? What is wrong with a little afternoon handy?
Lunchtime blowjobs anyone?
My point is, most of the time my friends have complained about their husbands sexual appetite and have viewed it as a much disregarded chore that HAS to be done every other Wednesday. (Before bed but after the kids are bathed and tucked in.)
My friends would later complain that their significant other has shown a lack of interest in her neither region. "I just don't understand, he use to love to stare at my boobs...now he barely even looks at them! He is cheating I know it!"
Ummmm HELLO!!?? Have you not been keeping said boobs from his face for the last 3 months while complaining about your stressed out work week?
Maybe he is not cheating.....Maybe he has just learned better. (Or maybe he is busy eyeing other boobs....you know the ones that cannot be taken away from him because he is being a bad boy....either way.)
Do I think that sex is important in a relationship? DUH. Yes I do. Let me explain what sex does for a couple. It brings you closer, it is fun. It feels good. You can have laugh sex, which my favorite kind of sex only after rough sex and screaming sex.
Lets go down the list of excuses that women (And sometimes MEN give)
Headache:
If your head is pounding...have sex. Your body will release endorphins that can make your headache a thing of the past. If it doesn't... well you had fun trying.
Stress:
Sex is the BEST thing for stress.
Example: I had THE worst day EVER at work. KinderCare had basically bitch slapped me the entire day... THE ENTIRE DAY.
I walked into my home, approached my then boyfriend and said "I have had the WORST most stressful day ever. My neck is tight, my head is pounding and if I hear the word 'Corporate' one more time I am going to sock someone in the nuts."
"Ohhhh I'm sorry that sucks. What can I do?"
"I need 3...no....4 orgasms stat. Go."
Guess what? My neck was no longer tight, my head was not the body part that was pounding and if someone had screamed corporate at the top of their lungs, I would not have given a shit.
In fact the rest of my evening was peachy. We laughed so hard that I farted twice and the next day I was ready to face KinderCare once again.
Sex people. That's what's up.
Boredom:
Maybe you are bored with the same old penis. You know every vein and hair follicle by heart and just have no interest in it any more. "Meh" is your response when he stands outside of the shower and does the 'weenie swing' that so many men are fond of.
Well! This is 2013. Any good sex store has every kind of harness, sleeve and couple sex toy known to man (If you need any tips I can help...I use to sell them...recall?) If that is not enough, you could try heading down to your local Hobby Lobby and buying all of the proper materials to Bedazzle your very own penis.
Jewels and Penises?? Now we're talking!
This is a subject that I cannot "feel you" about. I cannot pat my friends in sympathy to their husbands beastly wants. You need to fuck your husbands, wifes and lovers.
You need to not make excuses because that is just ridiculous. Once he gets his beastly urges under control (or takes them out on the shower floor, the next door neighbor or lives miserably forever) You will just think that he no longer wants your vagina and that will be a whole other talk that wont end nicely for my friends either.
So from me to you: Don't complain.
Love the fact that your husband wants to hump your boobs. in fact make him a special badge that says #1 BOOB HUMPER the next day and sneak it into his wallet.
He will laugh, you will laugh and if you are lucky...you will laugh so hard that you fart....twice.
Monday, November 11, 2013
Giving me the finger...
"She is going to put her finger in my butt."
"She is NOT going to put her finger In your butt, now stop it."
"Fine." I grumbled "But if she puts her finger in my butt I will never forgive you."
"Fine."
It was 2:00 am this morning.
Brandee and I had been sitting in the Emergency room since 11:36....respectively.
I have been having stomach issues for quite sometime, and had been to a clinic a week prior. At my clinic visit the doctor felt the lump that is in my stomach and gasped. She said that I had a mass right on my Ovary.
When she said that to me I held my breath.
"I am not saying that it is cancer, but I am treating it like it is." She turned quickly and fled the room.
I sat up and stared down at my feet. They were hanging off of the medical bed.
Just flopping around.
I remember thinking... "I really need a pedicure."
My eyes teared up and I gulped down a sob.
My brain immediately went to Emma, and I hopped off of the bed.
Soon enough a nurse came in with my paperwork and she told me that she would call the next day with an appointment for a CT.
I picked up my purse and left the room.
A week and a half later and I was experiencing twinges of pain that was not okay.
I picked up Brandee and we headed off to Doctors Hospital.
The first half of the visit went fast. I was called to pee in a cup, have my blood drawn and see the health insurance lady all at the same time.
Brandee ran interference while I sneered at the toilet.
I opened a wet wipe and with a clumped up piece of toilet paper wiped down the toilet. I then placed three toilet seat covers over the seat and went about making my pee fit into the cup.
The main bathroom door opened and Brandee called out "Beanie? They are calling you"
"Yes. I hear, but I am pissing in this cup....and my hand."
"Okay."
I finished my business and after washing my hands, I had my blood drawn.
Soon, we were in a room-ish.
Brandee stood there with her hands folded over her boobs listening to me complain about my open backed wardrobe.
"I don't feel pretty." I whined
"You're very pretty." she answered
"I have a belt in my purse...do you think I should belt this?"
"No. I think it is fine and you should lay down."
I harrumphed and the doctor came in. She listened to my guts and my complaints and ordered a pelvic exam and a CT scan.
She left the room and I looked at Brandee "If Mandy was here she would rub my head."
"Yes she would."
"And she would call me Darlin'"
Brandee laughed and agreed with me and They moved us to a real room for my exam.
"Brandee if they put their finger in my butt I am not going to be happy."
"Beanie Stop it!" She laughed "Why In the hell would they do that? You are not having problems with your butt!"
"I dunno. Doctors are weird. I'm just saying that if she does that to me, I will order my vagina to eat her face off. Like the Alien."
"OH? You can do that?"
"Yes. An entire mouth will come out of my vagina. Don't scream kay?"
"Okay."
"Also...if that thing that goes INTO my vagina makes a click noise, you should sing me a song."
"Okay."
"Cuz I don't like that noise."
"Okay Beanie."
20 minutes later and I was flat on my back with my legs in stirrups.
Brandee was holding my hand and rubbing my hair.
"Since we are here, lets do it up right."
"Huh?"
"I'm just going to check your rectum."
"Nooooooooo!" I yelled
Brandee grabbed my head and pressed her face against mine.
"All done." The doctor pronounced
"I feel so close to you right now." I replied
When she left I looked at Brandee. She was smiling. My eyes skinnied up " She stuck her finger in my butt."
"I know she did."
"You didn't even sing me a song." I pouted
"But there was NO CLICKING!"
I crossed my arms.
"Hey. Your vagina didn't eat her face off!"
"Yeah? It was too shocked!"
After my CT scan I went back to the room and Brandee. She was sitting in a chair squinting up at the machine that was taking my blood pressure all night.
"It wont stop beeping."
"Oh."
"It is driving me crazy."
We waited for awhile and then decided to squish on my bed.
At 4:45 am the doctor was standing at the foot of my bed staring at Brandee and I. My head was on top of hers and her leg was flopped over my right one. We were both sleeping lightly when we jerked awake and she told me "You have a hernia. There is nothing on your reproductive organs. Ill have the surgeon come in and see you."
By 5:45 we were signing papers and eagerly heading to Dennys. We were starving.
I got home at 7ish and flopped in my bed. By 1:30 I was meeting Brandee at the grocery store for our family dinner shopping.
She looked exhausted and she was limping slightly.
"Are you okay?"
"Something happened I dunno. Maybe when we squished on the bed."
"What a night." I sighed
"Yes. But we have answers so it was worth it."
I stared at her.
I squinted at her.
"What!!?" she whined
"I CANNOT believe she put her finger in my butt!"
"She is NOT going to put her finger In your butt, now stop it."
"Fine." I grumbled "But if she puts her finger in my butt I will never forgive you."
"Fine."
It was 2:00 am this morning.
Brandee and I had been sitting in the Emergency room since 11:36....respectively.
I have been having stomach issues for quite sometime, and had been to a clinic a week prior. At my clinic visit the doctor felt the lump that is in my stomach and gasped. She said that I had a mass right on my Ovary.
When she said that to me I held my breath.
"I am not saying that it is cancer, but I am treating it like it is." She turned quickly and fled the room.
I sat up and stared down at my feet. They were hanging off of the medical bed.
Just flopping around.
I remember thinking... "I really need a pedicure."
My eyes teared up and I gulped down a sob.
My brain immediately went to Emma, and I hopped off of the bed.
Soon enough a nurse came in with my paperwork and she told me that she would call the next day with an appointment for a CT.
I picked up my purse and left the room.
A week and a half later and I was experiencing twinges of pain that was not okay.
I picked up Brandee and we headed off to Doctors Hospital.
The first half of the visit went fast. I was called to pee in a cup, have my blood drawn and see the health insurance lady all at the same time.
Brandee ran interference while I sneered at the toilet.
I opened a wet wipe and with a clumped up piece of toilet paper wiped down the toilet. I then placed three toilet seat covers over the seat and went about making my pee fit into the cup.
The main bathroom door opened and Brandee called out "Beanie? They are calling you"
"Yes. I hear, but I am pissing in this cup....and my hand."
"Okay."
I finished my business and after washing my hands, I had my blood drawn.
Soon, we were in a room-ish.
Brandee stood there with her hands folded over her boobs listening to me complain about my open backed wardrobe.
"I don't feel pretty." I whined
"You're very pretty." she answered
"I have a belt in my purse...do you think I should belt this?"
"No. I think it is fine and you should lay down."
I harrumphed and the doctor came in. She listened to my guts and my complaints and ordered a pelvic exam and a CT scan.
She left the room and I looked at Brandee "If Mandy was here she would rub my head."
"Yes she would."
"And she would call me Darlin'"
Brandee laughed and agreed with me and They moved us to a real room for my exam.
"Brandee if they put their finger in my butt I am not going to be happy."
"Beanie Stop it!" She laughed "Why In the hell would they do that? You are not having problems with your butt!"
"I dunno. Doctors are weird. I'm just saying that if she does that to me, I will order my vagina to eat her face off. Like the Alien."
"OH? You can do that?"
"Yes. An entire mouth will come out of my vagina. Don't scream kay?"
"Okay."
"Also...if that thing that goes INTO my vagina makes a click noise, you should sing me a song."
"Okay."
"Cuz I don't like that noise."
"Okay Beanie."
20 minutes later and I was flat on my back with my legs in stirrups.
Brandee was holding my hand and rubbing my hair.
"Since we are here, lets do it up right."
"Huh?"
"I'm just going to check your rectum."
"Nooooooooo!" I yelled
Brandee grabbed my head and pressed her face against mine.
"All done." The doctor pronounced
"I feel so close to you right now." I replied
When she left I looked at Brandee. She was smiling. My eyes skinnied up " She stuck her finger in my butt."
"I know she did."
"You didn't even sing me a song." I pouted
"But there was NO CLICKING!"
I crossed my arms.
"Hey. Your vagina didn't eat her face off!"
"Yeah? It was too shocked!"
After my CT scan I went back to the room and Brandee. She was sitting in a chair squinting up at the machine that was taking my blood pressure all night.
"It wont stop beeping."
"Oh."
"It is driving me crazy."
We waited for awhile and then decided to squish on my bed.
At 4:45 am the doctor was standing at the foot of my bed staring at Brandee and I. My head was on top of hers and her leg was flopped over my right one. We were both sleeping lightly when we jerked awake and she told me "You have a hernia. There is nothing on your reproductive organs. Ill have the surgeon come in and see you."
By 5:45 we were signing papers and eagerly heading to Dennys. We were starving.
I got home at 7ish and flopped in my bed. By 1:30 I was meeting Brandee at the grocery store for our family dinner shopping.
She looked exhausted and she was limping slightly.
"Are you okay?"
"Something happened I dunno. Maybe when we squished on the bed."
"What a night." I sighed
"Yes. But we have answers so it was worth it."
I stared at her.
I squinted at her.
"What!!?" she whined
"I CANNOT believe she put her finger in my butt!"
Saturday, November 2, 2013
Elizabeth.
I usually write a blog around my children's birthdays. But I have been too busy. (That and I left my laptop at school during our fucked up haunted Halloween sleepover....but that story is for another time.)
Emma Elizabeth Elam was born at 3:30 in the afternoon. She was 2 weeks late and she did not respond to the pill in my cervix, my water breaking or any soothing breathing of any kind. I practically had to evict her from my vagina.
Emma was named by her brother. At 6 years old, he thought that Emma was an amazing name for a sister. (Shane had prayed for a sister, he told me so every single night.) I thought that her initials EEE was perfect, because that is pretty much the sound that girls make. A shrill nerve pounding shriek that grates on your nerves and sets your mind on tension.
Can you tell that I did NOT want a girl? I most definitely did NOT.
I remember visiting the doctors office for my last ultrasound. The one that would definitely tell us what we were having. My (then) husband sat excitedly next to me, holding my swollen hand. Shane sat on my right, his game boy clutched in his hands, he was becoming a Pokémon master even then.
I muttered under my breath "I hope it is a boy."
Chris answered "As long as it is healthy!"
Shane paused his game and peered at us from behind his thick black framed glasses. "I prayed for a sister." He then un paused his game and continued playing.
I sighed. "Girls are annoying. They are screechy.... You are never screechy. Plus they whine."
"I want a sister. A little sister. She would be cute." he responded
"Well. What if she is ugly and annoying? Did you even KNOW that girls are whiney? Plus...what the hell do they even play with? THEN They have hair to ...you know...DO. I hope it is a boy." And I rubbed my swollen belly with both hands, Like a Buddha being prayed over.
My name was called and we were put into our fancy room. Soon enough my stomach was being slathered with thick warm jelly and the lights were shut off.
After all of the measurements were taken my Doctor announced with 98% certainty that it was a BOY!
I was so relived that I almost pee'd on the table. Which isn't all that far fetched, because I had drank a gallon of water to get a good ultrasound.
On October 11th I was admitted into the hospital for inducement.
On October 12th Emma Elizabeth was born. It took quite a bit, at one point they thought that I would have to had a c section, but SHE finally came.
Shane never left my side the entire labor. He held my hand and watched his sister be born. He just KNEW that God would give him what he asked for.
My sister tells me that when the doctor announced that my son Carter Louis, was actually a girl I said "Oh thank God."
Maybe something inside of me KNEW what an amazing human being had just taken her first breath. Maybe I knew that I would now be supremely blessed by having a daughter such as Emma.
But Maybe I was just happy that it was over, who knows.
My sister Held Emma first. She had tears in her eyes. "You have a daughter." were the most powerful words that I had heard since "You have a son."
Emma screamed and screamed through all of the newborn tests and weighing.
She screamed and screamed when I spoke to her from across the room.
She screamed and screamed until she was placed into the arms of her brother.
He told her that she would love her mommy and her daddy and that he would teach her all about Mario and Luigi.
That day my mom ran home to try and find SOMETHING neutral for her to wear home.
I wanted PINK and princess.
From the moment that Emma took her first breath she has shown me the joys of having a daughter.
Of looking into a little girls eyes and seeing your own.
As soon as she was able to talk we would raise our fists and chant "UTERUSES UNITE!" and we would chase the boys.
Emma is unique.
Emma is intelligent.
Emma is everything that I could have ever wanted from a little girl. She is everything a little girl should be. She is honest, kind and hilarious.
She is not loud, nor does she (or has she ever screeched) I have though...I have.
When she was small she Because of Emma, I know every single princesses name.
I have learned how to do hair, and now that she is growing up I always have someone to sing with.
Emma is now 12. She has a 4.0 grade point average and she loves Zombies, edgar allen poe and reading voraciously.
The most powerful part of having a daughter, to me, was the unending bond of my children.
YES I became addicted to the Disney store because of Emma. *win*
YES we would go to build-a-bear at LEAST twice a month. *win*
YES I was OBSESSED with clothing and accessories because of Emma....
But the BEST part?
I learned an entire NEW side of being a mom. One that I never thought that I would be honored to have, nor was I even aware of the fact that I wanted it, needed it, or would fall in love with it.
As I scoured all of my sources for pictures I became even more aware of the love between Emma and her brother.
An hour into the hunt left me in tears as I watched them digitally grow up in front of my eyes.
The tissues have piled up and although I could write into words the love I see there, I will share it with you in pictures instead....
She loved to watch her brother...
Best friend brain necklaces. A gift from Shane to Emma at her birthday. He wears his every single day.
Writing this blog was a gift to me. It made me wade into memories. Laugh, cry and snot. I am truly blessed to have two amazing children who love each other with perfection and laughter. This family is amazing.
Emma Elizabeth Elam was born at 3:30 in the afternoon. She was 2 weeks late and she did not respond to the pill in my cervix, my water breaking or any soothing breathing of any kind. I practically had to evict her from my vagina.
Emma was named by her brother. At 6 years old, he thought that Emma was an amazing name for a sister. (Shane had prayed for a sister, he told me so every single night.) I thought that her initials EEE was perfect, because that is pretty much the sound that girls make. A shrill nerve pounding shriek that grates on your nerves and sets your mind on tension.
Can you tell that I did NOT want a girl? I most definitely did NOT.
I remember visiting the doctors office for my last ultrasound. The one that would definitely tell us what we were having. My (then) husband sat excitedly next to me, holding my swollen hand. Shane sat on my right, his game boy clutched in his hands, he was becoming a Pokémon master even then.
I muttered under my breath "I hope it is a boy."
Chris answered "As long as it is healthy!"
Shane paused his game and peered at us from behind his thick black framed glasses. "I prayed for a sister." He then un paused his game and continued playing.
I sighed. "Girls are annoying. They are screechy.... You are never screechy. Plus they whine."
"I want a sister. A little sister. She would be cute." he responded
"Well. What if she is ugly and annoying? Did you even KNOW that girls are whiney? Plus...what the hell do they even play with? THEN They have hair to ...you know...DO. I hope it is a boy." And I rubbed my swollen belly with both hands, Like a Buddha being prayed over.
My name was called and we were put into our fancy room. Soon enough my stomach was being slathered with thick warm jelly and the lights were shut off.
After all of the measurements were taken my Doctor announced with 98% certainty that it was a BOY!
I was so relived that I almost pee'd on the table. Which isn't all that far fetched, because I had drank a gallon of water to get a good ultrasound.
On October 11th I was admitted into the hospital for inducement.
On October 12th Emma Elizabeth was born. It took quite a bit, at one point they thought that I would have to had a c section, but SHE finally came.
Shane never left my side the entire labor. He held my hand and watched his sister be born. He just KNEW that God would give him what he asked for.
My sister tells me that when the doctor announced that my son Carter Louis, was actually a girl I said "Oh thank God."
Maybe something inside of me KNEW what an amazing human being had just taken her first breath. Maybe I knew that I would now be supremely blessed by having a daughter such as Emma.
But Maybe I was just happy that it was over, who knows.
My sister Held Emma first. She had tears in her eyes. "You have a daughter." were the most powerful words that I had heard since "You have a son."
Emma screamed and screamed through all of the newborn tests and weighing.
She screamed and screamed when I spoke to her from across the room.
She screamed and screamed until she was placed into the arms of her brother.
And then he sang to her, and he told her that everything was going to be okay.
He told her that she would love her mommy and her daddy and that he would teach her all about Mario and Luigi.
That day my mom ran home to try and find SOMETHING neutral for her to wear home.
I wanted PINK and princess.
From the moment that Emma took her first breath she has shown me the joys of having a daughter.
Of looking into a little girls eyes and seeing your own.
As soon as she was able to talk we would raise our fists and chant "UTERUSES UNITE!" and we would chase the boys.
Emma is unique.
Emma is intelligent.
Emma is everything that I could have ever wanted from a little girl. She is everything a little girl should be. She is honest, kind and hilarious.
She is not loud, nor does she (or has she ever screeched) I have though...I have.
When she was small she Because of Emma, I know every single princesses name.
I have learned how to do hair, and now that she is growing up I always have someone to sing with.
Emma is now 12. She has a 4.0 grade point average and she loves Zombies, edgar allen poe and reading voraciously.
The most powerful part of having a daughter, to me, was the unending bond of my children.
YES I became addicted to the Disney store because of Emma. *win*
YES we would go to build-a-bear at LEAST twice a month. *win*
YES I was OBSESSED with clothing and accessories because of Emma....
But the BEST part?
I learned an entire NEW side of being a mom. One that I never thought that I would be honored to have, nor was I even aware of the fact that I wanted it, needed it, or would fall in love with it.
As I scoured all of my sources for pictures I became even more aware of the love between Emma and her brother.
An hour into the hunt left me in tears as I watched them digitally grow up in front of my eyes.
The tissues have piled up and although I could write into words the love I see there, I will share it with you in pictures instead....
She loved to watch her brother...
She loved to watch her brother.
She played with his ear.
Shane holding Emma while he reads before bed.
Trying to burp her.
I can hold her AND play video games...like this!
"Her cheeks are squishy"
He loves her
Sitting up with brother
Shane sharing
Brother is in the bath, but he needs a kiss.
Love.
I found them like this.
Ill hold her mom.
My sister likes to be naked too!
watching brother game.
We are making you a cake!
Art is important Emma.
He wouldn't let her go in, unless he sat there.
Painting Emma's birthday surprise room
Yeah. She is sort of the princess.
Stay back! This tea light candle might bite,
Just hanging around in holes they dug
Riding together
Skeleton kisses
Shanes first play!
The real costume.
Walking her to her violin concert.
Shane the psych and Emma as Edward
Best friend brain necklaces. A gift from Shane to Emma at her birthday. He wears his every single day.
Writing this blog was a gift to me. It made me wade into memories. Laugh, cry and snot. I am truly blessed to have two amazing children who love each other with perfection and laughter. This family is amazing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)