ROFL

I LOOOOVE the Twilight series...I mean seriously love those books. From my conversation with my sister-in-law Dani, I'm not as bad as she is, but pretty damn close.

Still, my love doesn't mean I can't appreciate clever mocking of this franchise. See the link below for an abridged script to New Moon.

http://www.the-editing-room.com/twilight-new-moon.html

Enjoy! I did!!

My First Public Embarassment at Sophie's Hands

Or at least the first one in which I was alone. The other times I had Vic with me to share my shame.

This afternoon I needed to go to the grocery store to pick up a few items--some we needed, some as a treat for Vic's birthday. So, after feeding Sophie and changing her diaper, I decide it is time to head out.

All is well in the beginning. I wrestle the car seat into the cart, and off we go, me cooing at her as I begin to pick up some food. Then, as is inevitable when I am out in public with Sophie, a lady stops me to ask about her. So, I chat with her briefly and she asks to see the baby. See being the operative word. The lady, who was really very nice, gets out of her seated grocery cart, and starts cooing at Sophie. Then, she touches her hand. GRR!! I understand "see" meaning different things at different times, but when the baby is young, and strapped into the seat, see does not mean touch. But it was too late, so I just grit my teeth and say nothing.

As this lady is talking to me, she makes an offhand reference to her son. For some reason, Sophie takes any mention of other people's sons as a cue to start screaming. Her face turns the same odd reddish-orange shade generally reserved for getting shots. Great. The lady apologizes, but I wave it off, telling her Sophie is just fussy and not to worry about it. We part ways. After I round the corner, I surreptitiously rub Purell on Sophie's hand.

So we continue on, Sophie crying. She's not necessarily as loud as she can get, and there are occasional pauses of roughly a second, but it's pretty much constant. I try the pacifier--as usual, no go. I try the pinkie, but it's difficult to keep it in her mouth and push the cart simultaneously, so it's not working too well either. Usually in this situation, I have Vic with me and one of us holds her while the other pushes the cart, as Sophie hates the car seat and this often works. Alas, he is not here and I can't hold her and push the cart, so in the seat she stays. I just start hurrying and telling myself that people will understand.

Next item is evaporated milk. I would think this is in the baking goods aisle...but I am wrong. Fine time to not know where to find something I need. Fortunately an employee points me in the right direction (only off by 8 aisles) and next up is milk. As I head towards the dairy case, suddenly the lights go out! Weather outside is 80 degrees and sunny, so I know that's not the cause. Sophie stops crying for a moment, no doubt startled by the sudden plunge from bright fluorescent lighting into darkness. She then resumes crying. Another customer asks me if she's afraid of the dark, but I reply that no, she just apparently hates the store. As I peer in the dark for the skim milk, they announce the entire plaza is without power and they're getting the generators going. Lovely. I'm having a hard time reading the milk labels (though I finally get it) and am worried about the inevitable delay this will cause at the cash register. Usually this would be no big deal, but I'm trying to move as fast as possible, since Sophie won't stop crying.

The lights come back on as I finish shopping and head toward the register. Then they go out. Then they come back on. I'm hoping this is it, and they'll stay on, so I can get myself and my screaming child out of the store. I get into the express lane, behind 2 other people, figuring I'll be out in no time. Wrong. There's some snafu with a ham and a coupon, that necessitates an employee running all the way back to get a second ham, and the manager coming over to help the cashier. I've been a cashier, so I do understand, but I wish it hadn't happened while I was waiting in line with a crying Sophie.

As I wait in line, I notice many furtive looks. Way to make me feel better, people. There are a few nice people, who give me understanding smiles, though, so that actually does help. One of them tells me her 8th great-grandchild was just born a couple weeks ago. Awww...and she tells me she thinks Sophie is tired, which makes sense since Sophie kept us up half the night last night. Anyway, she was a nice lady to talk to, and quite a contrast to the next lady I talk to.

This new lady is younger....not young, but not a great-grandmother. Anyway, she says, "Oh, is that your baby? You can hear her all over the store!" Thanks, lady. Very helpful. I ruefully reply, "I know, I know." She then proceeds to ask me if I'm breastfeeding. Not that it's any of her business, but I tell her I am. She then looks at my breasts, then back up at my face, and tells me I need to get her out to the car to feed her. WTF?! Nursing in public is something I do proudly, and only nurse in the car if I happen to be there at the time. In any case, I'm in line, about to leave, and she's not even hungry! She's tired! So I am rather irritated, but trying not to be rude when I tell her I am in line and about to leave, otherwise if she needed to nurse, I would nurse her in the store. The lady just nods and returns to her cart, a few feet away. I continue to wait, trying to soothe Sophie as I have been doing the entire time. Suddenly, the sentence "You need to console your baby" floats past my ears. Same damn lady. I briefly fantasize about grabbing her by the hair and throwing her down to the floor so I can run her down with my cart, but figure the high road is at the least more expedient, if not as satisfying.

Finally, the cashier gets to my items. She doesn't say a word to me other than the total--I guess Sophie is irritating her too. The guy bagging my groceries, who is probably 19-20 years old, is surprisingly understanding, and tells me to try to have a good day. LOL. I am touched, especially because I didn't expect a teenage boy to be nicer about a crying baby than grown women. So much for stereotypes, right?

Sophie and I leave the store, and drive off. Maybe one minute into the drive, she stops crying and falls asleep! Sure wish she could've done that a bit earlier.

So that was my lovely trip to the store. I knew this experience would come sooner or later (and will again), and I am glad it wasn't any worse than it was. Still, I certainly would've felt better about it, had it not been for dealing with rudeness as well.

Experiences like this make me really nervous about the plane ride we'll be taking with Sophie in a couple weeks. But hey, at least then I'll have Vic to help support me under the weighty disapproval of fellow passengers.

Creative Writing Exercise

The object of this exercise is to create a short story from a multitude of authors in a semi-fractured style. Write as much or as little as you like to take the original storyline and add your own take on the next events. Copy and Paste the previous chapters and then add your own. Label your chapter number and your name/moniker at the top and then tag 2 people to pass it on to, for them to continue the story and see how it can develop through those different paths. Do NOT tag it back to any previous author of your story’s chapters.


Chapter 1- by Mookie
It is summertime in the middle of the day. Moms and dads are at work, so my friend Jay and I, having nothing better to do, go down into the ravine behind my house. We have decided that today we will build a small fort and a campsite we can call our own. This small stretch of creeks running through the woods in the dead center of our town forms our own wilderness frontier.
We set to the task of grabbing fallen branches and sticks to create the walls of our fort at the base of a hill. While Jay begins construction on these walls, I move to my own little task of creating a dam in the creek that runs through this section of the woods. An older creekbed that is usually dry, except for when the rain comes, has a variety of large rocks and broken concrete. These will be the materials for damming the creek up and creating a small ponding next to our campsite. Back and forth I lug rock after rock and concrete chunks as well. Once I feel I have a sufficient amount of rocks and concrete, I begin to set them into the small and shallow running stream. Soon the water level begins to rise and expand outward away from the bank, as I choke off the streams natural flow. As with any 10 year old, seeing the fruits of my labors, even in the early stages, makes me feel like a god in my own small world. By late afternoon we expect to have a sheltered fort, a bridge over the creek, a pooling of water to soak our feet in, or to use to put out the campfires we set from time to time when our parents don’t realize we’ve stolen a box of matches or a lighter. We even have a designated circle of rocks for our campfire along with some wood, twigs and dead leaves to fuel the fire.
While pushing through some high brush in search for more wood, we spook a doe. She runs off, along the creek, and with a graceful leap she jumps down into a culvert pit, and into the dark tunnel that goes underneath a neighboring road that runs along the top of the east end of the ravine. We followed her to see just where she went. But when we got to the tunnel, we were spooked. Rumors of the tunnel being the spot for Satan Worshippers abound through our heads. This was the one place we had never dared to venture into. Graffiti was scrawled all around the tunnels entrance on the concrete exterior. Older kids had scared us with stories of animal sacrifices, complete with evidence of blood soaked walls that lay within the interior of the tunnel. We look down to one corner and see some scattered small bones, which only further reinforced the validity of these rumors. Then suddenly out of nowhere the doe came running back out the tunnel toward us, veering away as she moved past us, a wild look in her eyes. What had caused her to be so scared and willing to run back in our direction? We had neither heard nor seen anything that might represent danger. The adventure in our little stretch of frontier wilderness was only beginning…
—————————————–
Chapter 2 by Renaissance Guy
“Do you want to go in?” asked Jay with a quiver in his voice.
“Maybe. If you do,” I answered.
“My cousin knew somebody who went in there. He was never heard from again.”
“That’s baloney!” I replied. “It’s just a dumb, ol’ cave.”
“Then you go in first,” Jay suggested.
What to do? Now that I had minimalized the dangers of the cave, I couldn’t show any fear. I’d look like a chicken for sure. Then it dawned on me. “It’s dark in there. We’ll need flashlights. Let’s come back another time with flashlights, so that we can see inside it.”
How could I have known that Jay had come prepared? Out of his pocket he produced not one, but two, flashlights. “Here you go,” he said. “Lead the way.”
I turned on the flashlight and pointed it into the cave. I swirled it around a bit to see if anything hideous was visible. Nothing at all but bare rock walls. Visions of human skeletons and bloody knives zoomed through my mind. I knew that I had to stop thinking and just move forward.
With Jay close at my heels I inched my way in. Drat! Not too far in there was a bend. It was impossible to see around it. My mind went frantic again: Perhaps this is the chamber of death. Perhaps I’ve seen Mom and Dad for the last time. “Hey, Jay,” I said, “I think that I should be heading home. My parents will wonder where I am if I stay gone too long.”
Jay didn’t answer. I turned around and shrieked–almost like a girl. Where was he?



---------------------------

Chapter 3 by Jay Burns


The sound emitting from mouth didn't sound like my own as it echoed through the tunnel. If Jay wanted to scare me his stunt had worked. I was petrified. My mind was racing with the possibilities that could have befallen my friend. Or worse what was about to happen to me. There I stood with the flashlight staring off into the darkness, lighting only a few feet in front of my path until the darkness swallowed it up. Boy these sure are cheap flashlights I thought. Then right on cue as if taking offense to my thought the flashlight flickered and went out.

I was now in full panic. I called out to Jay. I could hear an answer, but the sheer volume of his scream echoing off the concrete walls reverberated the words out of comprehension. I turned on my heels and ran in the direction I had come. I was feeling along the wall as I ran. It was cold and wet against my fingers. Just the feeling sent chills through my already terrified young body. I was running with all my might when suddenly my fingers could no longer feel the wall. Now I was longing for that slimy cold concrete. I felt lost in the middle of this tunnel, but I knew I was moving in the right direction. I must have hit the bend in the tunnel.

The sharp pain in my legs let me know that I had run into something. It was only about knee high, just enough to send me sailing through the air. I was screaming as I flew but I wasn't alone. I could hear Jay's familiar scream too. I couldn't believe it. I had tripped over Jay as he sat cowering in the tunnel. I knew the landing was going to hurt. Instinctively I tried to brace myself with my hands as I hit the ground, but it wasn't enough. My face skidded along the floor of the tunnel, and the water, which runs no more than an inch deep, was rushing into my mouth and up my nose. Close your mouth I thought to myself. During the fall the flashlight had come out of my hand and was clanking along the tunnel. Apparently, the jarring was enough to bring the dying batteries back to life and once again I could see a few feet.

Without missing a beat I was back on my feet running for the entrance which was now visible. I could hear footsteps splashing in the water right behind me. I thought it was Jay, but how could I be certain. All I could think of was that I had to out run whoever was chasing me. It wasn't long before we had reached the safety of the daylight. I could hear Jay laughing behind me, and soon we were both standing outside the tunnel bent over laughing and trying to catch our breath.

Nothing needed to be said. We had both been scared. There was no denying it. I was bent over gasping for air when I saw it. Jay's shoes were covered in something red. There were little drops of red on the bottoms of his jeans. I looked him square in the eye and could see only dread on his face. He was staring at me. Not really me, but my shirt. As I looked down, I understood the look. I was covered head to toe in what ever is on Jays shoes.

Don't let your mind go there I thought. It can't be true, but what else can it be. We didn't talk as we walked the few blocks back to our homes which butted right up against the ravine. How am I going to explain ruining my clothes? What was really going on in that tunnel? If there was something there, are they going to come after me?

The wrath of my father wasn't as bad as anticipated. For some reason I really thought he would one day have enough and kill me. Off to bed without dinner was punishment for ruining nearly new jeans and t-shirt. Not fun, but I knew that my mother would crack at the thought of her son starving to death, and would bring a plate to my room. It didn't matter. I wanted to be alone, and I certainly wasn't hungry.

As I lay in bed that night once again in the darkness I knew that if I lived through the night I was going to have to talk to Jay. I had a plan.
-------------------------------------------------------
Ch 4 by Becky

Never had the night seemed so long and so dark. I trembled at every creak and groan. Sure, it was probably just the house settling, or the tree outside my window, but then again, maybe the tree branches were creaking under the weight of some creature from the tunnel. I shut my eyes, imagining a dark shadow clinging to the limbs and slowly, stealthily inching up towards my window.

Suddenly, there was a rattling sound at my window. My eyes flew open and I cowered in my bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. It was a miracle I didn’t wet the bed. As I strained to see what was coming for me, I discerned a perfectly normal, human hand. After breathing a sigh of relief, I got out of bed and walked to the window to see who had dared the climb. I had a pretty good idea.

“Jay!” I hissed quietly, after opening the window to let him in. “What are you doing here? My mom or dad could come in any moment!”

“We’ll hear them in time and I’ll hide under the bed,” Jay declared, with the easy confidence only an eight-year-old can possess.

“Cool,” I said, though it was probably not going to be cool. If we got caught, who’d be left holding the bag? Certainly not Jay, whose parents tended to be a lot more relaxed about things than mine ever were. I dismissed it from my mind, however, with the usual I’ll-deal-with-it-when-it-happens attitude I generally adopted.

“So I was thinking about the tunnel,” Jay said. “What do you suppose was in there? All that blood…I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking about it. Should we tell our parents?”

“I don’t know what it was,” I replied. “But I think we should find out first. Then we tell our parents—or the cops. I’ve got an idea.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Like I said, I think we need to go back—but this time with reinforcements. Maybe advance reinforcements,” I suggested casually, hoping Jay couldn’t see how much I didn’t want to go back there.

“Advance reinforcements?” Jay’s brow wrinkled. “I know we can pretty much get Becky and Miah to do whatever we say, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea. We still don’t know what is in there.”

Annoyed (though also secretly relieved) at Jay’s note of reason, I waved my hand airily and said, “Oh come on. Whatever’s in there couldn’t take on all four of us. With all of us and better flashlights, we’ll be able to light up the whole tunnel and see each other, even with the bend. We can each stand at one end and send them in partway, so they can still see us and see each other. Then we can see what is actually in there, and fight it, if there’s even anything to actually fight. I’m sure there are more of us.”

I eyed him to see if this would pass, or if he would back down first. Unfortunately for me, Jay’s spirit rose to the challenge. “Sure, and if we do have to fight, since we’ll all be in sight of at least one other person, we can warn each other.”

“Just let me get the flashlights this time,” I suggested. “Yours suck. And bring Miah with you tomorrow--I’ll talk Becky into coming too.”

“OK,” he replied. “Listen, I gotta get home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya,” I said as I watched him climb out the window and inch back along the tree branch. I laid back down in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking. I couldn’t believe he seemed so eager to go back when I was terrified. Now of course, I could never show him I was scared, but did he have to go along so easily? Once again, I was stuck because he called my bluff. Dreading the prospect of the next day, I was sure I’d never get to sleep, but I guess I did because next thing I knew it was morning. Now all I had to do was find some flashlights and talk my sister into doing something stupid.

I tag Dani & the Black Sentinel.

Breastpump Haikus

So I'm enjoying being a stay at home mom so far. I keep pretty busy, though it doesn't seem like I get anything done lol....just sit on the couch and nurse. Since this is pretty mindless activity, I have to entertain myself somehow--today it's been composing haikus to my breastpump. Weird? Yes. But it's fun. I was inspired by my birth board online--every now and then they have a thread of haikus on one topic or another. Anyway, here are mine. Enjoy!

Oh breastpump, my pump,
You suck at sucking. Output?
Just one lousy ounce.

I pump little milk.
If I were a dairy cow,
Hello slaughterhouse.

I'm Baaaack...........

After almost 2 months of silence, I've emerged from the dark and scary place that is the postpartum period. My husband and I are finally able to get 3-4 hours of consecutive sleep twice a night, so the sleep deprivation stage has greatly improved. I also have recovered pretty well from my C-section--only a little residual tenderness and numbness, and I've been told those sensations can last awhile. No biggie.

My beautiful daughter, Sophia, was born on Sept. 20 and is doing well. She is absolutely the cutest and best baby ever, even when she's being a pill. My pride in her is enormous. I can't even be polite when people tell me she's cute; instead of just saying thank you, I enthusiastically agree that she is adorable! I wonder if that annoys anyone--if it does, oh well; I can't help it. She really is wonderful and I love her to pieces. Sophie is not always the easiest baby--gas issues have made her colicky--but then she'll smile, or coo, or just lay her head on my shoulder, and my heart just melts.

It is great that the gas issue has eased a bit, however. It really was pretty bad when she was 3-4 weeks old. That seems a lot longer than just a few weeks ago, lol. Her ceaseless crying every night brought me to tears at least once a day myself! However, once the pediatrician told us it was normal, Vic and I relaxed: not just because she was essentially ok, but also because then we knew we weren't doing anything wrong and we all just had to ride it out. Fortunately, she started to improve long before we really expected it, which has been great for her--and us too, of course.

So, as I mentioned, I ended up needing a C-section. Before giving birth, I was death on C-sections and determined to avoid one. Well, that just worked out great. During labor, particularly after I received an epidural, Sophie's heartrate kept dropping with contractions, and my blood pressure became dangerously low. We found out later that Sophie was at an angle, with her head essentially pointed towards my hip instead of down towards the birth canal. So, even though the doctor tried about a million different things to change the situation, a C-section was pretty much inevitable. Vic told me later it was pretty scary for him--everything got very medical very fast, and he was worried. I was scared too, both for myself and for Sophie, but I didn't have to look at myself hooked up to tons of machines and wearing an oxygen mask, so it makes for a different perspective.

The surgery itself wasn't too bad. I was a bit freaked, but so high that it didn't really matter lol. The recovery was also easier than I had expected--I'd always heard how difficult a C-section recovery is, but you know, I didn't have any issues, and avoided many difficulties women who have vaginal deliveries deal with. It was pretty easy--didn't have to push, for instance--and even if I have the option for vaginal births in the future, I'm not certain I'll take it. I still have some regrets about the C-section though. When I watch baby shows on TV and see the women give birth vaginally, I am a bit jealous that I missed out on being able to do that. It's hard to feel like a "real woman" when you can't even give birth vaginally, something women are biologically supposed to be able to do.

In any case, however, I have Sophie now and that's what's important. It's still a little strange to think of myself as a parent, though it feels more natural to me than it used to. And apparently, becoming a parent means doing things completely differently than you envisioned before giving birth. For instance, I never planned on cosleeping--I felt it was unsafe and unnecessary. WRONG. The three of us sleep a million times better if Sophie is either in bed with us, or in the cosleeper bassinet we just built (we feel it's safer) that is on my side of the bed. Although the pack n play is only a few feet away from the bed, apparently that is too far for Sophie--she only really sleeps well in close proximity, either on our chests or with our hands resting on her. After the gas issue resolves and she can sleep better, we hope she won't need us so near and we can move her back to the pack n play, and then eventually to the crib in her own room, but for now, this works for us. Man, have I had to eat my words on this one--but, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive, that's for sure. Oh, and that prior post complaining about always having to hold the neighbor's baby when I babysit? Guess who ALWAYS holds her baby? Yeah, color me hypocrite. However, I know Sophie needs me and she's too young to spoil at this point. In general, though, I've just found that as I develop my parenting style, I'm much more into attachment parenting than I ever expected to be. It's so weird.

So anyway, bit of a rambling blog entry. But hey, at least it's a new entry, right? And having marginally more free time than I've had lately, I hope inspiration continues to strike and my blog doesn't die the slow death I just rescued it from.

Spider Dreams

I've got to stop having scary spider dreams! If not for my own sake, for Vic's. A couple years ago, I scared ten years off his life by waking up screaming in the dead of night after a spider dream. If only that was the worst that's happened...

Last night around 2 am, I was looking over at him and saw a spider crawling over the top of his head and down his forehead. It was large but with a small body, like a daddy long legs, but as I watched in horror, I saw it get even larger. So, being a good wife, I overcame my instinctive fear and quickly took action by grabbing the blanket and hitting him over the head with it to kill the spider before it could harm him.

From Vic's point of view, I imagine it was disconcerting to wake up to his wife beating him up for no apparent reason. I turned on the light, looking around for the spider while he asked me what the hell I was doing. I quickly explained but there was no live spider, not even a corpse, to back up my story. We finally determined that it must have been a dream, but it still took me awhile to really convince myself enough to lie back down among the bedding and go back to sleep.

Pretty soon, Vic's going to put his foot down and start sleeping separately, I know it. I can't say I'd blame him, as the consequences of my scary spider dreams seem to be escalating for him.

The clock is ticking down...

I'm in my 38th week and have been playing the waiting game for the past couple weeks. I am ready to meet the baby, and to not be pregnant anymore! I am apprehensive about the upcoming life changes, and kinda wish I could have a couple days to just sleep and relax between pregnancy and taking care of a baby, but I am also increasingly excited to meet Sophia.

I find myself getting a bit short-tempered lately, a state probably brought on by hormones, the suspense of waiting, and the tendency of people to ask me "So have you had that baby yet?" and "How ARE you?" every day. I'm still good at smiling and answering politely but I can feel the strain! Vic has even commented on it as he is asked the same questions at work. The first thoughts that tend to pop into our heads are generally along the lines of "Yes, we had the baby and didn't tell anyone!" (especially when it's his MOM who asks) and "Still freakin pregnant, how do you think I am?" My impatience is pretty sad when I'm still a week and a half from my due date, but it doesn't help when everyone else reminds me daily that I'm still waiting. Vic has said that maybe he should start making stuff up, just to give a different answer when asked how I am. It's either that or discuss dilation and mucus plug status, both of which are a bit TMI for most people :b

Anyway, I am excited to see Sophia. It will be nice to be able to meet her, see her, and make sure she's ok. She scared me a bit this past week by reducing movement, and it's not like I can do a visual check on her. It'd be pretty sweet if I could--pregnant women need an abdominal window with a light, like an oven! The doctor said she was fine but sent me to labor & delivery at the hospital for a nonstress test, where they monitored her heart rate and my contractions for about 40 minutes, and of course everything was fine. I was a bit embarrassed at even being there and told the nurse I was mostly there for my own peace of mind, to which she very kindly replied that it was a great reason to come in :) So that was nice. It was pretty exciting being at L&D too, and a lot more comfortable than it will be in the near future lol. I saw a girl checking in due to labor who was in my childbirth education class. She was eerily calm. It's not that I expected her to be constantly screaming or anything, but she did not visibly show any contractions in the five minutes or so that I saw her. I hope I have her calm when it's my time, but knowing myself, I doubt it.

Speaking of contractions, prodromal labor sucks. I've been contracting on and off for over 2 weeks now and in the past week they've definitely gotten more intense. They still aren't terribly painful or anything, but they are uncomfortable, annoying, and increase the suspense of waiting. Last night I woke up at 2:30 am due to a contraction that stretched all the way around my lower front, hips, and back. Then I couldn't fall back asleep because I was having more of them--still far apart, but more frequent than in the past. Just about the time I was getting excited, however, they grew further apart again--so frustrating! I was awake until about 5 am anyway though. I spent part of the time running through the few last minute items I'd like to accomplish before she shows up, and the rest of the time just trying to get back to sleep. Sleep has been frequently interrupted for the past several months but this week, insomnia is definitely getting worse. Yesterday I woke up at 5 am and couldn't get back to sleep. So the difficulty sleeping doesn't help me remain patient with these contractions. I know they are helping me progress, but it is a very slooooow process.