Sunday, June 22, 2008

the longer version

As most of you probably know, last Saturday I gave birth. Again. And trust me - the whole experience gave me lots of possible material to write about. But if I thought it was hard to find time to sit at the computer with Wesley demanding my attention, I had no idea how hard it would be to sit and type with a small human attached to my nipple (sorry, Mom.)

Anyway, last Friday was a tough evening. I went with Bryan's family to a fish fry and I was self-admittedly a huge crank-monster. I really just wanted to be alone and lay down on the couch but I did my best to be polite-ish. Then, Friday night when everyone else in my house was resting peacefully in their cozy beds, my stomach started to feel like my uterus was about to rip open (which is a remote possibility since Wesley was born via c-section.) So I went out to the couch to watch some info-mercials. All I can say is, "Sham-Wow!" But my stomach was still hurting. Thinking I might be hungry, I decided to enjoy a big bowl of the always delicious and nutritious Cookie Crisp. When even that didn't help, I just went back to bed, knowing that Wesley would be awake in just a few hours. And no matter how hard I try to convince him to sleep in for Mommy's sake, he just doesn't have empathy down yet.

Sometime after 7:00 a.m. Wesley was awake so I got up to use the restroom and get ready for the day. But as soon as I was walking to the bathroom, it became clear that something was going on.

"My water just broke," I told Bryan.

His reply from bed was a sleepy, "Yeah, right."

You see, I MIGHT have been making the joke that my water just broke for about three weeks now. Sort of like the little boy who cried "wolf" only more like the girl who cried "my water just broke." Except, get the mop, I wasn't kidding this time.

We called Bryan's parents to come get Wes, Bryan started making calls to his boss (because he is supposed to work every day and luckily was able to find someone to cover for him for the day), and I began packing. Yes, you read that right, I Began Packing. Because I had thought that I still had two weeks before the blessed event was to occur. Silly me.

Within an hour, we were at the hospital. I was slightly less than panicked. Now the first time I had a baby, I was scared because I didn't know what to expect. This time, I was scared because I Knew Exactly What To Expect.

But to keep this from becoming the blog that never ends, I will give you more details in my next post. I only hope the anticipation doesn't keep you awake until then...

Thursday, June 19, 2008

it really was the frog's fault

One night last week I woke up to a terrifying sound. No, it wasn't Flavor Flav whispering sweet nothings into my ear - it was a different kind of terrifying. It was a sound like a million rocks being thrown at every window of our house. It took me a minute to figure it out because I had never heard anything like it - it was hail. Lots and lots of golf-ball sized hail. About a minute later, Bryan's mom called us to tell us to get to a shelter because a tornado was headed our way.
Now, if you live in Oklahoma, you already know this but if you are from somewhere else, you might be surprised to find out that hardly anyone here has a basement, including us. Some people have a little one room "basement" under their house but more common is the storm cellar (think Wizard of Oz). We don't have that either.

I took Wesley into the bathroom with a candle, fully expecting every window in our house to be broken but what troubled me even more was the thought that WE WERE ABOUT TO DIE!!! On TV you always hear tornado survivors say, "It sounded like a train was coming straight towards us," and that is exactly how it sounded.

Now, when I was a youngster, probably about six years old, I remember my dad decided that our family should have a practice fire drill. I know - it sounds very "Brady Bunch" and in reality we couldn't have been further from the Brady Bunch but DARN IT, we were going to be prepared for a house fire. Well, my sister and I shared a room in the basement which meant that to get out, we would have had to climb up on our dresser and out through the window well. This should have been a real treat - what kid doesn't want permission to climb on the furniture and out the window?!? Well, the answer is - me. Because I knew there was a frog that lived in that window well and it might touch me. Or even worse, look at me. And I knew in my six year old heart that it would be better to burn to a crisp than go near that frog. After many failed attempts to coax me out, it became clear that even the Jaws of Life would not get me through that window. My poor dad's plan to practice fire preparedness had failed, all because of me. The end result was a string of cursing that would have been more appropriate if, say, I had actually SET THE HOUSE ON FIRE.

But back to last week....I think my dad was right to try and make a plan. And in case we have another tornado, we need a plan, too. Because during our brush with the tornado, it became clear to me that our plan was something like this: gather in the bathroom and kiss your *asp* goodbye. And that plan doesn't work for me.

So I guess on my "to do" list, I need to add another item: formulate frogless plan for tornado preparedness. Yeah, that should be a piece of cake.