Is it over yet?

I am not a sports enthusiast. I never have been. I ran track and cross country in high school, and I used to watch the Olympics every season. However, I have never developed a passion for any. That's why I cannot understand my husband's obssession with football. It did not begin until this year, and it is driving me to insanity.

I must admit that I just have never taken the time to understand the sport, and that contributes to my disdain. It is difficult to enjoy what one does not understand. Part of my dislike also stems from the fact that in high school I was on the dance team for the marching band. So, for four years I attended every game, and most of them were pretty bad. When I met my husband, I didn't think he was much into the sport either. He would watch some golf, but rarely did he turn on a football game. The only exception was the Superbowl, and who doesn't watch that?

I don't know if he has become so engrossed because of all the games we now attend to watch our son play in the marching band. I don't know how many times I have watched him become animated and yell at the refs on the field. Everyone just sort of laughs and shakes their heads at him. That irritates me sometimes, but the truly miserable point for me is that he now constantly has a game on television.

I could understand if he was into a specific team. He has no favorites. He doesn't even discriminate between college and pro football. As long as it is a game, his butt is parked in the chair and he is engrossed. The rest of the world stops existing. It's not fair sometimes because he just monopolizes the television and he knows how much I hate it.

I suppose I am very irritated tonight because I have asked him three times to get a box off of the top shelf for me so I can finish putting Christmas decorations away. It is too heavy for me. Yet, it still sits there. In addition, he has pretty much been on his ass since the first game this afternoon and is now watching a second one. The icing on the cake is that I walk into the living room to see the baby in her chair wide awake while he's in the recliner with his feet up (where he cannot see her) falling asleep.

Enough is enough already!

Addictions

I don't care what anyone says, we all have some sort of addictions. Clearly, some are worse than others. For me, my addicitons change with time.

I am definitely addicted to cigarettes. My husband and I did quit for 18 months, but we slipped up two years ago and fell right back into it. We are each other's own enemy because although we support each other...it backfires because we succeed and fail together. Unfortunatley, I was not able to quit smoking during my pregnancy. I felt and still feel an immense amount of guilt over it. I just try to remember that there are much worse things I could have done. I am hoping we will quit again one day. For now we smoke outside or in the garage to spare our son & the baby.

Caffeine is another downfall for me. I used to drink coffee or soda all the time and even began to like some energy drinks. I did give this up, and I still have not fallen totally into it since giving birth. I drink a lot of coffee now, but it is decaf (which I learned to like). I have found myself caving in to other forms of caffeine more though.

Who doesn't love chocolate? I am sure there is someone out there. This addiction seems to come and go. Sometimes I won't touch it, and there are times like right now where I devour anything in sight. I think it is worse when I am stressed.

Tritowers and Bejeweled are a couple of computer games I could lose myself in for hours. Usually it happens while I am doing something else like reading email. I have very little patience waiting for things to upload, so I will open a game and play in the interim. I am also determined to knock my husband's one score off the top ten- I have no idea why, but it drives me to play over and over.

My newest one is baby smiles, fingers and feet. I mean, who doesn't melt at a baby's smile or think their tiny parts are adorable. It is pure heaven though when they come from your own child. I spend so much time trying to pull a wide-mouthed grin from my little girl. She smiles more each day now as she gets older. I am nearly obsessed with her tiny feet. I play with them all the time and marvel at how she moves them and curls her toes around things. I think this is in part because I didn't have that experience with my son. Since he was born with club feet, his more resembled little fists. And he has never been able to move them or his toes. His spina bifida is not as severe as some other kids, but his feet were never like a "normal" baby's. I dress her in shoes and slippers all the time too. I could never do that with him.

I am sure I have other addictions or things that I either yearn for and become cranky without or simply cannot live without.

keeping track

Ok, I have decided that I need to make daily and weekly lists to keep track of things. I thought my memory would get better and I would be more focused after pregnancy. Thought and reality are definitely different. I cannot even focus on the words I am writing at this moment. Could it be the persistent fatigue of only getting 4 hours of sleep at a shot? Could it be the constant distractions? I wonder. Anyways, I guess I am going to be the guru of to-do lists this year. There sure is enough to do around here, which reminds me that I better get busy while the baby is quiet!!!

The best laid plans...

It seems like these days I am more tired than anything. I know it is usual for a "new" parent, but it still makes me feel old!

So about the baby... She turned 2 months old today. It is hard to believe that she has grown so much already. Of course, I still cannot believe my son will be 16 in March. Anyhow, she is one of the wiggliest, most determined, and most stubborn babies I have ever seen. She doesn't cry much or for long. Rather, she gives a little yell when she wants or needs something. It only becomes a cry if one of us takes too long. I knew that throughought my pregnancy she would be a wild one. She persisted in giving me constant heartburn, sciatica, and other pains. She grew quickly making me feel like a house, and I have a small frame. Even her entrance into the world was on her terms.

My actual due date was 11-28. However, since I had a c-section with my son, my doctor and I agreed that I would have another. I was scheduled for the surgery and delivery on 11-20. The first week of November I had a feeling I was not going to make it. Sure enough...

Imagine wandering through the aisles at KMART looking for odds and ends. I was in the baby aisle. I had a pair of mittens in one hand and was surveying the bath section when it happened. As I stood there, I felt what I can only describe as a sort of "pop." It didn't hurt, but I knew. In my heart I knew that in the middle of KMART my water had broken. I could only hope that the dam would hold until I could gracefully and uneventfully exit the store.

My husband had gone to another section to look at camping gear. I called him and said that we need to go...NOW! Before we left, I had him escort me to the ladie's room so that I could confirm my suspicions. Sure enough, I was beginning to leak pretty regularly. I did make it to the car though.

We had to go home to pick up the bags and my son. I changed my clothes and even put in for sick leave. I kept reassuring my husband that we had plenty of time. After all, I was certain I had not been in labor, and my son progressed fairly slowly when my water had broken with him.

We made some phone calls to friends and family on the way to the hospital. It was a 40 minute drive on the interstate. I just could not believe what was happening. I mean, I wasn't ready yet mentally. I kept thinking about the c-section I was going to have and how much I had left unfinished at home. As we drove, my contractions became more stronger and painful. I remained quiet, but clutched the arm of the door as each wave hit. I was watching the clock trying desperately to keep track of the time. But there seemed to be no regular pattern. I only knew that they were pretty regular and close together.

As we exited the interstate and neared the hospital, we found that we were stuck. There was a stalled train blocking the road. My husband cursed loudly and I could sense panic. So through clenched teeth I told him it was fine and that we still had time. Needless to say, he found another route and I continued my clenching and breathing.

I was in complete shock when we arrived less than an hour after my water haqd broken to find out I was 7 cm dialated. I knew I was now in pretty serious pain, but I had no idea. I agreed to try to forgo the c-section for a natural delivery and th enurse promised me I would receive an epidural upstairs. By the time I reached the delivery room, I was in anguish and fighting not to scream. I could not even move to the bed as they were instructing me because my whole body froze. I felt like the baby was coming. I asked the doctor if I could have anything for the pain, but he said that it was too late. I know that sheer panic raced through my veins.

I am not one of those women who dreamt of natural child birth. Mentally, I had been trying to prepare for a routine c-section and the recovery that would follow. I had no idea in the world that I would give completely natural child birth. I had no time to wrap my mind around it. I cannot lie. It hurt like hell. When anyone tells me that they or a relative or a friend wants to go the natural route, I smile and say how brave, but think to myself that they are fucking crazy. I would never ever do it by choice. Yes, I can say I had the experience...just like so many women throughout history. And I would not do it again given the choice.

We did not bring my son in the delivery room, but he could hear everything outside. His comment to me was that he could hear me say Jesus Christ repeatedly and had no idea that I was so religious. (I guess I was just trying to avoid saying Fuck). Fortunately, everything worked out just fine. She was completely healthy, even if she was 3 weeks early.

My little girl came regardless of what everyone else had planned, and it was quite an event. My water broke at 5:45 PM. She let out her first cry at 8:21 PM. After a short hospital stay, we were able to bring her home and have had no problems since. We feel very blessed and are thankful each day. Besides, now I have one hell of a story to tell generations to come.

Band Parents gone wild

A short while ago we returned from a party with some fellow band parents. There are about a dozen of us who work very hard to support the kids and put in much time and effort. When we get together without the kids to kick back and reward ourselves, we have a great time. Tonight, was one of those nights. However, I must say that some of the parents had a little too much to drink and provided an immense amount of entertainment for those of us who hadn't. Nevertheless, we are a very forgiving group, and it is all in good humor. I just feel sorry for some of them tomorrow- when the world has stopped spinning.

I am glad that I am friends with these people. Ironically, I have had almost all of their kids in my class at some point. That can be a little strange sometimes. Especially when I hear "Oh...you were THAT teacher!" In other words, the one that worked their kids hard. But they appreciate me for it. I think I would like these people even if I didn't share the common bond of having a kid in band. We are kindred souls for the moment while we have that comoon thread. And we sure do know how to party- although our kids would never know it.

On a side note, isn't it ironic how our friends and priorities change throughout life? There are so many people I have known and enjoyed at particular points in my life, and many of them have moved on as have I. There are times when I wonder what has happened to some of them and I miss them. But life is ongoing, and eventually these other band parents will fade away once our kids graduate.