Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Writer's Block

I used to write poetry as easily as it was for me to breathe. I could spit out a poem in a minute flat. I think I probably wrote close to 100 poems between 7th and 8th grade (that's when I began writing for fun).

My first poem was at the age of 12. It was a bit mature for my age, talking about gin and making love and getting married. Yes, I wrote about those things at the innocent age of 12. I think I can still remember it word for word... let me give it a try...

Strange Love
I was at the beach staring at the sky
I was eating a peach when I saw something fly by
When suddendly it hit me, a boot from the sky
So I thought up a creation of a boot that could fly
The wonderful creation yes she was a beauty
And thee who flew it, yes he was a cutie
He flew east and west, north and south
But the cutie inside never opened his mouth
The next day as he flew up above
I suddenly realized that I was in love
As he landed on the ground, he didnt make a sound
Yet he invited me in for a cool glass of gin
Without a single word we began to make love
As we soared off the ground like a plain white dove
Then he finally spoke and got down on one knee
And said to me, Brianna, will you marry me?
I gleemingly said yes with a little laughter
And he and I lived happily ever after

I had to look it up cause I was stumped with a few lines... that's how I feel lately... just stumped. I have been so busy running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. I can hardly put a sentence together let alone a blog.

I mean, I could write about the kids' attraction to mudpuddles or the cat we have recently "adopted" or even the four candy bars my 3 and 1 year olds swindled into the car cart at the grocery store this morning. It all sounds nice and dandy to write about but I can't seem to think of enough about those things to say.

So, since my brain is mush I've resorted to allowing you to read ancient poetry of my teenage heart. Please don't choke on anything while reading and keep in mind I was young and dumb. I did LOVE to write though and it just came so easily.


Love and Hate
Love can put you in a fantasy
Love is sometimes hard to see
Love can take you far from me
Love can sometimes never be

Love is a pain that will make you cry
Love is so strong sometimes you could die
Love can sometimes be really shy
Love can make you want to fly

Hate is a pain I will never feel for you
Hate is when I don't know what to do
Hate from you makes me sad and blue
Hate is why you don't have a clue


Untitled
I smile when I see you
I quiver when you touch me
I cry when you say goodbye
I need you every second, of every minute, of everyday
I will love you everyday, of every year, of my life
You say you love me and you say you miss me
I dont know what to do, my mind is a mess
We both have other people waiting in the wings
But if those two are the right thing
Then why do we find ourselves back in each others arms

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Why should you always get the optional insurance??

Because you NEVER know when you might pee on your phone!

That's right people! I peed on my phone today. I was carrying it in the back pocket of my jeans which I don't do anymore since it is longer than my old phone. But, I did today. I stuck it in my back pocket when I went to the neighbors to pick the kids up after getting back from my doctor's appointment (which went fairly well).

I got back to the house and had to pee really bad, as usual. That's what I get for drinking all that water at the doctor's office. So I run (literally) into the bathroom and pull my pants down. I promptly sat down. At the same time I started to pee I heard a "thwoop" sound (you know the sound when something falls into the toilet and hits the water then the bottom, that sound). I didn't think that it could be my phone but was curious as to what I knocked into the toilet... so while still peeing, I look behind me and there it was... my $350 BRAND NEW LESS THAN 30 DAYS OLD LG ENVY (in orange)!!!

Without thinking twice I stuck my hand in and fished it out. Yes, gross, I know but I was hoping to save it before it was ruined. I dried it off the best I could. Thinking about all the times I've ragged on my sister for dropping her cell in the lake or in the kiddy pool or in a puddle (what can I say, her, her cell phone and water should not all be in the same location). I could not believe I did that. I tried calling my sister to tell her... who better to call first, right? But she didn't answer and the phone was really hollow sounding... the way it sounds after its been submerged in water. I know what this sounds like because that's how my sister sounds when she calls after retrieving her phone from a body of water. And the way my aunt sounded when her son decided to "wash" her phone in the bathroom sink.

I then called a friend to see if she could hear me and tell her about my "accident" and I could only hear her if it was on speaker phone. Nice. Atleast the phone was working though... for those three minutes then it was dead. I couldn't get it turned back on and had no other way of calling Verizon but to go to the neighbor's and yet again tell my embarrassing story of peeing on my phone.

I talked to the Verizon Man Andrew whom informed me that I was SOL on getting my phone replaced. Well, I could pay $279 but since I didn't have the insurance that was the best price I could get. However, he was very helpful in getting my old POS phone turned back on so I atleast have something to use.

Friday, September 14, 2007

No Wonder They are NEVER hungry.

I walked out into the kitchen today to find 4 empty boxes of snacks (granted they were already empty from me putting the snacks in the cupboard but the kids didnt know that so they were trying to get what should have been in them), 3 opened jello tubs (all partially eaten, one with a spoon in it still) and 2 banana peels on the floor (they actually ate the bananas). I know what you are thinking... feed your kids and they wouldn't be getting into the food or watch them better. Seriously though, they can cause lots of damage in the 5 minutes it takes for me to pee. Oh, and I feed them when they start to cry uncontrollably and complain of stomach aches. Kidding people! Jeez!

I even have a lock on my fridge but apparently Wadie has figured that out. Now what do I do. Short from tying it up with a chain and lock like you see in the cartoons, I am out of options.

I am constantly finding food EVERYWHERE! I've found poptart in the kids' hair, bananas in my couch, cereal used as floor decoration, and cheese stuck to my tv. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. I even found one of those "Dawn's Famous Fossilized Hot Dogs" yesterday behind my microwave cart yesterday. We haven't had hotdogs in a couple weeks. I was scared to touch it.

This must be the reason I always find a miniature chair next to my counter. They are climbing up there to get whatever they want, when they want it. They have stopped asking and are just helping themselves. Maybe I need to buy some more of those door alarms to go along with the lock so I can hear when they open the fridge. And lots more cupboard locks while Im at it. Who would have thought you would have to childproof the cupboards above the fridge?!

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Latest Additions

Not only did I post two new blogs tonight, but I also added a subscribe button and changed my comment settings.

Now you can sign up to receive an email when I update my blog. Also, now anyone can comment on my blog. So all 6 of my fans, including Brad, can leave me a message.

:)

One more thing, there is a poll to the right. Feel free to express your opinion about my blog. Don't worry, you won't hurt my feelings.

Never Say Never

Random things I never thought would ever have to come out of my mouth:

1. No I can not get you ice cream from the ice cream man, the light is about to change.

2. You do NOT throw away money, ever!

3. How did you get a poptart stuck in your hair?

4. Diaper cream does not go on your face!

5. No you're right, we don't eat poop.

6. Don't make me email your daddy!

7. Can you sell children on Ebay?

8. Get your finger out of your nose... ewww... don't eat your boogers.

9. Why are there teeth marks in my "toy"?

10. Bring him here so I can smell his butt.

11. JUST GIVE ME THE DRUGS!!!

12. You do not play Goblin King with your brother.

13. DVD's are NOT frisbees.

14. If you don't stop that I'm going to duct tape you to the wall.

15. I don't care if you dip your apples in honey mustard.


Random things I never thought my kids would say at age...

6 mths: Mamamamamamamama

1 1/2: S-T-O-P STOP!!!

2 1/2 yrs: I got a big butt! You got big boobs!

3 1/2 yrs: Yes you f*%$'n did!

4 1/2 yrs: Let me see your boobs.

5 1/2 yrs: I hate my life!

6 1/2 yrs: HEY! Stop kissing my boyfriend!

Free to a Good Home!

I have a 6 1/2 year old blue eyed blonde haired little girl. Thinks she is a princess and is not afraid to tell you so. She loves dressing up and playing soccer. Has her dad's nose and her mama's attitude. Screams like a banshee when she doesn't get her way. Will slam doors and tell you she hates you and threaten to run away. She is very smart. Can read to herself and loves to sing. She would do best as an only child but could possibly handle having a baby brother or sister just not one close to her age or older. She needs lots of attention and loves to be spoiled.

Another model I have is a 5 year old blonde haired boy. Loves to cuddle and sleep in your bed. Is excellent at baseball but beware his arm can get him in trouble. He has the temper of 10 angry bulls and is not afraid to show it in public. Throws tantrums like a 2 year old but will love on you to get what he wants. Not fully potty trained, still has bedwetting accidents on occassion. Can write his name and is learning to read. He feels slightly abandoned by his daddy but will cry out for him when he is upset. Can be very shy when in front of a crowd and will call you out on it if he sees you watching him. Loves soccer, baseball, cats and peanut butter & jelly sandwiches. Drinks like a camel and pees like a racehorse. Can be your best friend or your worst enemy.

I also have an almost 3 year old brunette. She has curls at the ends of her hair but hates for it to be brushed. Would take a bath 3 times a day if you let her and will put shampoo in her dry hair when you are looking the other way. She will do this to any siblings as well. She loves to play "mommy" so it is probably best that she be the youngest in the family. Does well with older siblings, she can hold her own in a fight. Cries at the drop of a hat and refuses to nap or go to bed at night. Prefers to fall asleep on the living room floor or in your arms. Gives lots of hugs, kisses and I love yous. Very shy when meeting new people but once she warms up she will show her true colors. Likes to color... on anything, anywhere. Color wonder markers and paper are a must to keep her from coloring the walls, the tables, and herself. Loves applesauce and grapes. Will help herself to anything in the fridge and has been known to pour and mix her own chocolate milk.

I have a 20 1/2 month old adorable little redheaded boy. Very sweet and loving. Loves to give kisses and nose honks. He is a follower. Loves to put toilet paper in the toilet and jump from the coffee table to the couch. He still takes a binky so he is easy to plug up but forget it and he will make you regret it. He can scream with the best of him and his new favorite thing is throwing himself on the ground and banging his head when he is mad. This just makes him cry louder but as soon as you pick him up he is good to go. He is also still in a crib and goes down fairly easy. If you dont like CIO then this is not the kid for you. Beware when taking him out of his crib upon waking. He is known to have a full diaper and scream if you put him down. He likes to run around naked and pee on the floor. He likes to play with his pee pee too, he's just getting a head start. He is free to a good home. Should not be the only child in the home, does better in groups although gets in more trouble that way.

Last but not least I have a 9 month old baby girl. She has blue eyes and a little bit of brown hair. Can hold her own bottle and does not take a binky. She also does CIO but never very long. She takes 2-3 naps a day. She will scream her tiny little head off if constrained for too long but she loves her swing and her jumperoo. She does not come with any toys but I will include bottles and any leftover formula. She prefers Enfamil and hates Parent's Choice. She can be very cranky with an upset stomach. If you want to try the Parent's Choice be warned that it will not be pretty. She will puke on your black dress pants and pull out your hair. She is very cute and hard to resist. She is not up to date on her shots but will be before you take possession. She can low crawl and is very fast. She will put anything and everything in her mouth which can be hazardous when combined with the low crawling. Does well with siblings but being so young would not notice being an only child.

Pictures available upon request but I promise they will not do these kids justice. I will accept two for one trades but I do not take returns. Serious inquiries only. Im tired of people saying they want them but never following through. It is best to contact me between the hours of 12pm and 2pm or anytime after 9pm. Any other time and I can not guarantee that I will hear my phone and if I do answer I can not guarantee that I will be able to hear anything you have to say. Thanks for looking!

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Whoever thought having voice commands was a good idea does not have children

What is it about the telephone being attached to my ear that my kids think is permission to scream and yell and fight and act like I never feed them?

Whenever the phone rings my kids think this is their cue to scream as loud as they can. I think they hold regularly meetings about what they will do the next time the phone rings...

Lou "If everyone is hear I think we should discuss our tactic for the next telephone call. Any ideas? Yes, Monkey?"
Monkey "I think we should run in circles around the table 4 times, then run through the den knocking Munchie over on the way, then run through the den and the hall right past mom and almost knock her over."
Lou "That's a good one Monkey. Any other ideas?"
Wadie "I go potty. You don't eat poop."
Lou "Oh thanks, Wadie. You can go in the bathroom, scream for mom that you went poop, then put the whole roll of toilet paper in the toilet. When you are done you can get in the bath and put shampoo in yours and Munchie's hair. I like that one."
Munchie "AHHHHHHHHHH!!! Seee!!! Welcome!!! Pee pee!!! PSSSSSSSSS!!!"
Monkey "Munchie said pee pee!!! HAHAHAHA!"
Lou "Ok, so are we sure that's what we will do next time. You know it has to be better than last time when we had the scooter race through the living room. Or the time before that when we through all the papers on the floor so when Mom was walking through the house while on the phone she would slip and almost fall. That was funny though."
Mom "You better be cleaning that den, I'm coming to check."
Lou "Meeting adjourned. Remember your part. Quick, act normal!"
All the kids "WAHHH WAHHH But it will take too long! I don't want to clean! I'm thirsty!"

In all seriousness though, it seems whenever I'm on the phone they are worse than usual. Just today I was on the phone with my mother in law. I can't exactly yell something like "GO TO BED YOU BRATS!!! I AM TRYING TO TALK TO GRANDMA!! IF YOU DONT GO TO BED IM BEATING YOUR LITTLE BUTT INTO NEXT WEEK!!!" Well I could but I try to act like I know how to handle my kids. So I just calming tell them 55 times they need to get in bed and no they will not get a snack because they were fighting but yah you can have a snack if it will get you off my back but no if you arent going to eat what I gave you then you arent getting anything, but anyways what was I saying, NO go to bed, Im not telling you again. Ok I think they are going... you should have eaten your dinner then. Im sorry its time for bed, when Im done on the phone Ill come read you a story."

One would hope this was the end of it but this is just the beginning. Then ensues the screaming from across the house that the mother in law can hear in the phone. You wish she would laugh but instead you know she is thinking "Kid's these days! Having kids while they are still kids themselves and not knowing how to raise them right. If I was taking care of them they would listen." as she just sits their listening to the chaos unfold.

Tattle taling soon follows... "He hit me" and "She won't leave me alone" It is really hard to understand how they can do these things when they sleep in seperate rooms. Do they have super stretchy arms like the mom in The Incredibles? Do they make fun of each other for having to go to bed? They are constantly at each other's throats... you would think they would stay away from each other. But NO! You got one of them in the other's room just being themselves. They dont have to be touching the other one, they dont have to be talking, they just have to be breathing and someone is screaming.

They also destroy the house in the blink of an eye anytime I am on the phone. It could be clean but the moment the phone rings it looks like tornado alley. Why is that? It's like Pavlov's dog. Who the heck trained my kids to make a mess when they hear Ashley Tisdale singing Fabulous???

All of this phone drama leads me to my real pet peeve. Those damn automated, voice command systems that so many places use now. I call the bank and they ask for me to 'say' my account number. I start to rattle off the numbers when the baby decides its time to practice saying "mama." I then hear, "I'm sorry but I did not understand. What is your account number?" So I say it again. This time a child being chased by older, bigger child runs by causing the system to once again say, "I'm sorry. Was that 112669?" Very agitated I say "NO" to which robot lady says, "I'm sorry, I did not understand, please hold while I transfer your call." UGH, I did not want to be transferred. I wanted to check my statement. Or in today's case I wanted to check the status of a shipment. Everytime I tried to answer the dumb guestion about taking a survey the baby would grunt as if she were trying to take a poop. The automated system could not translate her grunts and disconnected me.

So I leave you with this challenge... find me the moron that invented these kinds of systems. I would like to give him a piece of my mind. There is no way on earth a mother invented this system, and if it was a mother... let me give her the mother of the year award because she must be the "perfect" parent. As for me, I am not and the automated system is one more stressor in my imperfect life.

A Day of Remembrance

6 years ago we witnessed an attack on our home. It seems like yesterday to some and eons ago for others. With the War on Terrorism still going... I was going to say strong but Im not so sure that's the right word to use... we still think of this day in 2001 all the time.

I actually almost didn't realize that today was 9-11. It's hard to remember the dates when all my days mush together in a clump of dirty dishes, dirty diapers and dirty laundry. Surprisingly though, a water bill that my friend mailed to herself is what reminded me that today was that day.

I still remember where I was, what I was doing. Just as Im sure you remember too. I don't remember specific details like some people remember but I think I remember a lot.

I had dropped my almost 8mth old daughter (Lou) off at my fiance's grandparent's house. They watched her while I worked and dad went to school. I was a supervisor at a video store and I had to open the store that day. I sorted the newspapers, tossed the ones from yesterday, counted out the cash from the bank and popped the promo video into the vcr. The video that played on 3 televisions that soon would be a battle between a higher up and myself.

The morning started out normal, just as everyone elses had. Then things began to change. I had a customer ask me if I knew what was happening. I was clueless. There I was surrounded by comedies and kid's movies and a man on the television promoting popcorn with your video rental. I was oblivious to the real world.

I changed every video over to the local news channel that was running clips of the attack on the World Trade Center. I was in shock; my head was spinning. I remember looking out the window at all the cars going by and traffic seeming to be heavier than usual for a weekday morning. I could only imagine all those people rushing home to hug their loved ones just a bit tighter and I was stuck at work while my daughter was on the other side of town and no way of getting in touch with my soon to be husband. Flashes of this happening in my hometown were going through my head and I found it hard to work.

My words got lodged in the back of my throat every time someone would ask "What movie is this?" How do you tell them that this is real? This was happening to our country, our home. It was devastating to see their faces when they realized that that action packed movie was the local news. It still hurts thinking about the events of that day.

I didn't have to spend much more time alone. My fiance showed up. Classes had been suspended and then cancelled in light of recent events. All students were sent home. He came right to me, to see if I was ok. I told him he should have got Lou but he insisted she was fine with his grandparents and he wanted to be with me. I imagined that's how everyone in the world was feeling that they should be home with their loved ones snuggling, getting in one more kiss because you never know when it could be your last.

Then Mr. Incompassionate walked through the door. There is a much better word for him but I will let you chose that after reading this. A manager of sorts, he was in charge of putting stills on video and such, had the audacity to tell me to turn the tv back to the promo. I told him that the Twin Towers were struck by two planes and this was the local news, we should close so I could go home with my fiance and daughter. He very bluntly said, "We will remain open, that does not concern us, the only thing to be on these televisions is the promo video." I also got in trouble for my fiance being behind the counter reading a magazine but, oh well.

I just could not believe he did not give a rat's patootie about the country being attacked. It could have been us, we could have had family there, what give's him the right to be such a jerk. Oh, that's right... this wonderful country we live in. The land of the free and the home of every jackass in the world. Oh yah, the brave too.

So today we take the time to remember those brave men and women. The firefighters and the police officers from all over the country that came to Ground Zero to save a life and even lose their's. We shed a tear for all the military men and women fighting for our country to allow us to keep our freedoms. No matter the reason we went over there we are making a difference and keeping our peace. Remember the lives lost on the airlines that crashed that day. Remember the families that will grieve on this day for the rest of their lives. Remember me, and all the other military spouses living everyday without the love of their life. Remember the kids of all those brave men and women that have lost their lives in all of this. Remember what we are fighting for. Remember when you complain about the President and this country that I would be glad to buy you a one way ticket to replace my husband in Iraq. Remember your extended family, all Americans united. NEVER FORGET September 11th 2001!

Edited to say: I stated that I had dropped off my daughter at the great grandparents' but my husband reminded me that HE was the one that dropped her off. After thinking for a minute I realized that he was right (yes, you can copy and save and even frame that statement if you like honey) because I had to open the store that morning and I would not have dropped her off that early.

Sunday, September 2, 2007

Diaper Cream Does NOT Go On Your Face

Today has just been one of those days. Now I am used to the usual run around. Kids chasing each other through the house; running in circles through the living room, then the dining room, then the den, and right back through the living room. Whoever designed this house did not think about the "circle" it created that just calls out to kids to run it. Just like any table is just asking for kids to run laps around it no matter how many times mom says to stop or someone gets hurt. It's really annoying when one of the kids does something bad and I have to go "chasing" them. I don't enjoy running laps through my house. Kids are smart; they just keep running that circle because they know mom can't catch them.

Anyways, I can handle that. I can even handle the constant whining, crying, and bickering that occurs between my three oldest.

"But SHE'S not helping."
"MOOOOOOOOOMMMMM! HE KICKED ME!"
"YOU DON'T LIKE US!"
"I'mmmmm stttaaaaaarrrrvvvvvvinggggggg."

As annoying as it is I can deal with that. I suppose I can even deal with the topic of this blog but it is something I never in a million years thought I would ever have to utter.

"Wadie! Diaper cream does NOT go on your face!" She just looks at me with a deer caught in the headlights look.
"Did you eat it?" She shakes her head.
"Did you get it in your eyes?" Mind you, she has applied it like a mud mask. Very evenly, I might add as well. She shakes her head.
"Did Munchie eat it?" Munchie, as you might guess, eats everything. Atleast he used to. He is 1 1/2 years old and could put away 3 slices of pizza, that's how he got his nickname. She shakes her head.

I tried not to laugh but it was hilarious. Before wiping it off her and her brother and my floor and the wall; I did pause just long enough to get a picture. However, I must email it to myself first because the batteries in my camera are dead and I had to take the picture with my phone. It really was a sight to see. Surprisingly, I didn't scream, I didn't yell, and I didn't spank any butts. It really was my fault for leaving the diaper cream in plain sight, on a shelf at my eye level, where the only access to it would be to climb on the arm of the couch and stand on your tippy toes to reach it. What can you do? Laugh... it really was funny.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

Two Months Into This Deployment

This was written earlier on in this deployment but I thought it would be perfect here.

****

It has been 4 weeks, 3 days, and 8 hours since we said goodbye to our soldier, Mr. Fix it, Mr. One More Story before Bed, Mr. Let Mom Sleep in on Sundays. I knew it was going to be hard; after all I have been through this once before, only I had 3 kids then instead of the 5 I have now. I just didn’t realize that when other wives said “if it can go wrong, it will” they really meant it, they weren’t overreacting or being sarcastic.

Week one went by as normal as it gets around here. The kids played soccer in the living room, pulled every diaper out of the drawer, spilled cheerios all over the den floor, and unraveled a whole roll of toilet paper. But this was nothing I couldn’t handle. I dealt with this everyday while he was home so I thought it couldn’t be too difficult. Then I remembered I had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for the following week. Who was I going to get to babysit? The only friends I have are a 45 minute drive from here and I felt like a burden asking the neighbor. They always assured me it was no problem though.

Week two came and went but it was a bit harder than the previous week. I found myself being short with the kids. I wasn’t as tolerable of their usual antics and I was really emotional. I cried watching daytime television, primetime television, and The Disney Channel. Dinner consisted of macaroni and cheese or ramen noodles with one night of dinner out because I just didn’t want to cook. Yes, I ventured to take all 5 kids out to dinner at Texas Roadhouse all ALONE. It was kid’s night so it worked in our favor. We went before the dinner rush hit and got ice cream afterwards. It was actually a more relaxing night than the previous trip when daddy was with us. I still wasn’t quite myself though. Was I on the verge of depression? Maybe. Or was I just realizing that my husband was overseas in a combat zone and I was going to have a really difficult time on my own? It was more than likely the latter. From what I hear it is normal to be like this upon your husband’s deployment, even if you weren’t an emotional wreck during the first.

Week three came as a complete shock. I met a friend at the mall after school on Tuesday. I figured the indoor play place would be a good way to let the kids run off some energy so maybe they would go to bed at a decent hour. My friend had to get going so we parted ways and I asked the kids what they wanted for dinner. Of course they opted for the mall food court. I reluctantly agreed but having to walk to the food court would soon change my mind. Monkey and Wadie were not listening and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with strangers staring at me as if I didn’t know how to control my children. The fact of the matter is it doesn’t matter how I handle the situation, I will always be doing the wrong thing in some bystander’s mind. I turned the stroller around, plopped my 2 year old in with the two babies and said “We are going home, now!” which did not sit well with my 4 year old. He had a meltdown in the middle of the mall and I could feel about 50 eyes all staring in the direction of a little boy’s screeching. I ended up carrying him out of the mall while pushing the double stroller, which was definitely a sight to see. At that moment I thought I would never step foot in public with all 5 kids again. Wednesday was grocery day. I was doing fine after getting the two oldest off to school until I hit the card aisle at Kroger. All I needed was an envelope but I knew I should at least buy a card especially since I would need one for father’s day. Every card I read made me cry. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling, they just kept coming one right after another. I grabbed the perfect card, the one that first made me tear up and I got out of there before they had to call for a clean up on aisle 3. This was the day my anxiety attacks started. I had plans to go to a wedding in Cleveland on Saturday but I had a knot in my stomach. Babysitters were in place, plane ticket was bought and the seating chart for the reception had my name on it. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I shouldn’t go. I was beyond scared that something bad was going to happen and I cried just thinking about it. By Thursday I had cancelled my plans and still couldn’t shake the feeling I had. I went to playgroup feeling like an outsider and came home to veg on the couch while the kids had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner. Friday morning I had changed my mind once again when the groom called me about my cancelled hotel room. I felt terrible about not being there for the wedding. I arranged for my sitters to still watch the kids and I didn’t start packing until 930 when I was planning on leaving at 10. It was 1020 and I was just getting ready to change Wadie’s clothes and head out the door when John instant messaged me. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, the needle in the balloon. I knew that was my sign that I shouldn’t go. I cancelled all my plans once again and cried each time I had to explain why I wasn’t coming. I always knew I was crazy, now everyone else knows it too.

Week 4 was the kids’ last week of school. The kids had tons going on at school in preparation for the end of the school year. Even though I just went grocery shopping the previous week there were still some things I needed. I decided to make jam for the teachers’ end of the year gifts. I thought it would be fun for the kids to help with and it’s consumable so it’s not going to take up space in a landfill somewhere if they don’t like it. I always seem to amaze my friends when I tell them I’m making something like cookies or, in this case, jam but I make easy things. I wouldn’t be crocheting blankets for them or anything now that would be amazing. We had parent teacher conferences, a summer program meeting, the awards ceremony and the Pre-K end of the year program this week. As if that weren’t enough, this was the week that everything fell apart; besides me of course, I fell apart the week before this. I forgot to take the garbage out on Monday, someone broke the toilet seat on Tuesday, got a notice to move my van out of the yard on Wednesday only to find that it has a dead battery, Tivo decided to stop working unexpectedly on Thursday, and Friday was the last day of school. While this doesn’t sound like my whole life turned upside down in one week, I assure you it was worse than it sounds. Our garbage can fills up fast, it has to go out on Monday or there won’t be enough room for another weeks worth of garbage in it. I don’t usually forget, I hadn’t forgotten yet and to be honest the garbage men don’t usually come until after 4 so I thought I had plenty of time to get home and take it out. That had to be the day they came early. The dead battery on the van would be no big deal if I knew how to use jumper cables. I’ve never done anything more on a car than pump gas and I was scared to do that for the first time at the age of 18. Here I am still a chicken at the age of 26, scared to try recharging the battery. The van has to be moved by tomorrow, so guess what I will be doing. I don’t have any idea who broke the toilet seat or how they did it. All I know is it is broke right in half and now I need to fix that too. The Tivo had been working perfectly for quite some time and I should have known it was too good to last. John was always the one to get it up and running again. I couldn’t just call him to ask him how to fix it. I wish it was that simple as making a quick phone call. By a stroke of luck I got it working again after several attempts, just in time to record my soaps. Friday being the last day of school is pretty self explanatory. We have been in this routine of getting up and going to school for 9 months now and all of a sudden I am being thrust back into being home with all 5 kids all day long, with no help at all. It’s not a question of whether I can do it or not, but more of a challenge to be able to do it and not lose my mind at the same time.

My Last Birth Story

I received a lot of comments on my birth story back when it actually happened in December. Many people said I should start a blog or write for a magazine. I just recently started this blog and I have no intention of writing for a magazine. Although my intentions may change when someone offers me a paid position. HA!

I've given birth 6 times. Only one of which wasn't induced and that was the most exciting one. I must warn you though, do not drink or eat anything while reading this. I cannot be held responsible if you choke on an apple or spit coke all over your keyboard.

December 10th:
It's two days before my due date and I have been having some minor contractions all day. I had originally been told I would not go past December 8th. As you can see, that was not the case. This is what happens when you see 3 different people for your ob visits.

I began timing my contractions around dinner time. Seven minutes apart. I knew that once they were 5 minutes apart then I should get to the hospital. How I was getting there was another story. My husband was "in the field" and had been for a couple weeks already. If you aren't a military wife you probably have no idea what "in the field" means. Basically he is training out in a field somewhere close but it takes 6 hours and 12 guys to get in contact with him. Okay, so I may be exaggerating on that but it does seem like to take FOREVER.

I had never gone into labor on my own before so you could say I was new to this. After three 7 minute apart contractions my uterus gave up. That was that. No baby today.

December 11th:
Ahhh, one more day until my due date. How was I going to go past my due date. I HAD to go into labor tonight, or tomorrow. I have never even seen my due date without holding a baby (in one form or another) in my arms. Misery set in weeks ago and I was saying the whole pregnancy that this little girl would be coming early. She just HAD to prove me wrong.

I have an appointment in the morning and I am demanding that I be induced NO LATER THAN Friday. I am not giving in, no way, no how. I just couldn't see why they weren't as concerned with my child's health as I was. {Background: my first pregnancy ended in a stillbirth at 26wks. One of the causes of death was a placental insufficiency - the placenta was doing it's job - this being the reason I was induced every other time.}

The day came and went faster than I could even believe, I had a few contractions but nothing worth writing home about. Still no sign of baby.

December 12th:
D-Day, as I like to refer to it. I was quite looking forward to my appointment at 1030am. I also had playgroup immediately following and had no intentions of missing it. I dropped my two oldest off at school and shortly after I headed to my appointment.

I was curious to see if I had dilated any since my last appointment. After all the contractions I had been having I was hoping to hear, "Wow! You are already at a 3. It won't be much longer before you are holding your baby." Not sure it actually would have accounted to much seeing as the last visit she said, "I wouldn't be surprised if this was the last time we saw you before you have this baby." Surprise, I'm back and NO baby yet.

Needless to say that was not the news I received when she checked my cervix. Imagine how disappointed I was when I heard, "You are a good 1, stretchable to a 2." She HAD to be kidding. That's what I was last time and the time before that. What was the point of the pain I've been through the last few weeks? Still not entirely sure.

She offered to strip my membranes "to get things going" just like she had the week before. The last time I surprised myself by turning her down. With my husband in the field I decided I better just try and wait it out. Now he would be out of the field in two days so I didn't see the harm in trying. Of course it wouldn't help anyways, it never does. I was doomed to be pregnant until they induced. I would never get to experience natural childbirth.

I "demanded" I be induced on Friday. She checked the schedule and wouldn't you know it, there were no openings. They were booked solid but they would schedule for Monday and if anything changed before then they would put me in on Friday. Yay, wonderful, atleast I have a date now.

It didn't seem to calm my nerves at all. I was still worried about the baby. How could I go SIX days after my due date. I would go crazy for sure. And my baby? How would she do being inside my for SIX MORE DAYS!? I suppose the good part is daddy would be able to be there. He missed his last son being born; atleast he wouldn't miss his last daughter's birth.

I left feeling let down and a bit crampy. I wasn't concerned with the cramps as they are normal after an exam. I just went about my day as I had already planned. I still had time to make it to playgroup; it was just about noon and we were meeting them at the mall at 1.

I arrived at the mall to meet playgroup and I was hoping they had actually shown up. I would hate to have already been let down once and show up to find no one had actually come. I was not let down a second time. They were there and excited to see me.

I told them about my appointment and how I wouldn't be induced until the following week. They knew how much I had wanted to have this baby already so I jokingly said, "I could still have her today if these cramps keep up."

For the next hour I had dull cramps and they didn't really bother me. I continued to converse with the other moms and take pictures of the kids playing. Some of the moms kept asking if I was okay. I seemed okay, or so I thought. I told them I was fine, the cramps weren't even regular. I knew as long as I could go about my day, talk, walk, etc that I was fine.

I remember checking my watch at about 220pm and by this time my "cramps" were becoming regular. They were 7 minutes apart and I hadn't told anyone. I wasn't worried as I could still handle them. I was very nonchalant about the whole thing. Some of the girls had to leave so we all decided to walk out together.

On the way out of the mall we stopped at Target. A couple of the girls were shopping and one asked if I was alright. I really thought I was fine so I assured her I was.

"Yah, they are about 7 minutes apart now." This seemed to shock them.
"Are you ok or do we need to take you to the hospital?" they asked.
"Oh no, I'm fine. I had some contractions like this on Sunday as well." This satisfied them for the time being.

We went about our shopping for another half an hour or so. We left the mall shortly before 3 because I had to get my older two from school. As we were leaving I mentioned my contractions now were about 5 minutes apart. My friends grew more concerned and thought they should follow me home. In hindsight, I wish they had. I told them I would be fine and I would talk to them later.

Before even leaving the parking lot of the mall my contractions were back to being 7-8 minutes apart. I was under the impression that if they are not regular then they are not "real" contractions. Boy, would I ever be proven wrong!

I headed to the kids' school. I made a number of phone calls on my way (the last of which was to my husband). I called my aunt; I suggested I may be in labor and she said to keep her posted. I called my friend Kristen; she accused me of lying. She didn't believe I was in labor but then again, neither did I. I called my friend Callie; she is the one that convinced me to get in touch with my husband. She could tell I was in labor. I tried calling my husband numerous times on his cellphone to let him know that I "might" be in labor. I didn't get an answer so I stopped trying.

I finally got the kids from school and headed home around 330pm. By this time it started to sink in that I really could be in labor. The contractions were fairly close together but I had stopped timing them. Really, how do you time contractions while unloading 4 kids out of the car?!

I realized I had to get in touch with my husband so I finally got on the phone to staff duty.

"Staff Duty this is Sgt C."
"Hi, I'm trying to get in touch with Lieutenant John. This is his wife and I am in labor."

And of all the stupid things someone could say, this is what I get...

"Lieutenant John is in the field. Can I take a message?"

Now, did I not just say why I was calling? And would I be calling if he wasn't in the field?"

As calmly as possible I replied, "Yah, this is his wife and I'm in labor. THAT is the message."
He seemed flustered at this point. "Oh, ok, I'll get that message to him right away."

(I later found out he never actually got the message. The connection was fuzzy and all he heard was wife. He immediately left knowing I must be in labor).

I hadn't even considered who I was getting to take me to the hospital. I called the only friend I could get in touch with but she was still 45 minutes away. It was now 340pm. I then called my husband's cousin to come watch the kids as he had agreed to. He said he would be right over.

Scott (John's cousin) showed up not 10 minutes later and I was sitting on the couch while my kids ran amuck. I was too emersed in the contractions to even think straight at this point.

"Are you ok?" he asks.

Seriously, who in their own right mind asks a woman in labor this?

The only thing I could muster was, "I don't know." I knew that was not a good sign.

I didn't know what I should do. Thinking unclearly I called my friend back. I told her I was loading the kids into the car and Scott was taking me to the hospital. She could meet me there. I knew there was no way she would make it to the house in time.

We were finally pulling out of the driveway about 4ish. As Scott drove, I frantically tried getting in touch with the doctor's office. Not having done this before I wasn't sure what to do. Do I go to the office or the ER or straight to Labor & Delivery? I couldn't get in touch with anyone at the office so I decided to try John back again. Still no answer on his phone. I probably called 20 times already.

About 3 miles from my house we got stopped by the second red light in less than a minute. I remember telling him I wouldn't care if he ran the red light (he was driving my car) and as soon as it was clear, he did. I can only imagine what the other drivers were thinking. What would you be thinking?

Scott was driving like a maniac and I didn't care. I knew my kids were in the car but I was so scared of having that baby in the car. Every story I had ever heard about someone delivering in the car was going through my head.

We were nearing the hospital when we got stuck in traffic. It was a two lane road with tons of traffic coming towards us and trees on the left. That was when my water broke, about 415pm. I began to freak. My last baby was born just 10 minutes after my water broke. I knew it, I was going to have this baby in the car. I went into panic mode.

I started to call the doctor's office just one more time when John finally got through to me. I was crying and frantic. I told him my water broke and he said he was on his way. I can only imagine how fast he was driving.

Traffic was at a standstill and there was no where to go, except on the shoulder, through the trees. I told Scott to drive on the shoulder, my water had broke and the baby was coming NOW! My window was all the way down because it was the only thing keeping me from completely losing it. As we drove through the trees I was being smacked in the arm by random branches and the side of the van was being scratched up. I did not care.

Scott is beeping at every car that we pass. We got up about 6 or 7 cars when we couldn't go any further. The shoulder was no longer just a shoulder, there was a curb too. We couldn't exactly drive over it. I was again freaking.

Traffic started to move and Scott wedged his way into the line. I started to feel lots of pressure and knew the baby was coming. Like a scene straight from a movie, Scott manuevered into the left turn lane and sped up in front of 3 cars to go straight through the light. I'm sure he ticked a lot of people off but I wasn't in any state of concern for them.

I was really scared this baby was coming. Traffic slowed once again. With the hospital in sight I picked up my cell phone and dialed 9-1-1. Yes, I called 9-1-1!!! I was not in my right mind and I did NOT want to have the baby in the car. The operator couldn't understand what I was saying so I tried calming down as best as I could. He assured me they would be waiting for me at the main entrance.

We pulled up the entrance and Scott, bless his heart, jumps out yelling, "She's in labor and the baby is coming NOW! We need some help." He gets a funny look from a man standing by the door but he nonchalantly gets a wheelchair. He was slower than molasses in winter time, or so it seemed to me as I was "dying" in the car. Although the pain had let up, I could still feel all that pressure.

Scott opened my door and even had to take my seatbelt off. I just couldn't get my arms and legs to cooperate. I was in a daze and soaked from my water breaking. This guy that brought the wheelchair took me into the hospital where he transferred me over to another guy in the elevator. I felt like a piece of mail. "This needs to go to the third floor. Could you run it up there for me?"

Elevator guy as I will call him walks just as slow as door guy. Even worse though, he doesn't know where to take me. He stops at every possible desk on the way to Labor & Delivery. Thank goodness I was already registered and thank goodness the nurses believed him when he told them I said "the baby is coming!"

I was rushing into a room where I threw (literally) my purse and my phone into a chair. I stripped out of my sopping wet jeans (yes, I could wear jeans at 40wks pregnant, and they weren't maternity either... how jealous are you?) but I kept my shirt on (that was maternity if you makes you feel any better).

It was about 430 when I finally got to push. I was there all by myself with a bunch of nurses and my doctor. My husband didn't make it and my friend didn't make it but the only thing I cared about was delivering this baby. I pushed maybe 10 times and let out a few loud screams and my little girl was born at 445pm. Sara Mackenzie weighed in at 7lbs 5oz.

My friend finally got to come in the room about 5 after the doctor stitched me up and that is when I started making phone calls. I got in touch with John at 510. Since he had already missed the birth I sent him to the house to get my hospital bag. In all the excitement, and denial, I left it at home. He finally made it at 6 and got to meet his daughter when they brought her back from the nursery at 9.

It was a wild and crazy day but I am so glad I was able to experience labor on my own. I'm still not convinced I actually got ahold of the right 9-1-1 operator since no one was waiting for me at the hospital... anyone know how that works when you have an out of state cell phone? Oh well, good thing I didn't end up having her in the car. Although, that would be an interesting story to read huh?

Almost 9 months later: I still get flashbacks whenever I drive through the light that Scott ran or when driving towards the hospital. As nerve wracking as that day was I'm glad that I can have those flashbacks. What fun are the flashbacks from my other births? 'Well I had my aunt drop me off at the ER. I signed in and they wheeled me up to labor and delivery where they started me with cervadil to soften my cervix.' Not very exciting is it... I hope that everyone gets to experience this atleast once. Oh, and cut the cord. That is the most amazing thing outside of childbirth.