A birth story of sorts

K had her baby girl.  Which she named S because she's so hip and trendy that she can totally pull off naming her daughter a single letter.  

Kidding, of course.  She's not really that hip or trendy.

HA!

After a really disappointing afternoon appointment on Tuesday, where K thought for sure she'd be sent over to be induced but wasn't, K called me at 1:00 am on Wednesday morning where surprise! her water had broken.  I had just gotten to sleep when she called, so I jumped up, redressed, and booked it to the hospital.  

And then I cursed the store I work at and all of its other locations for being closed.  Some people DO want espresso at 2 am.  Asshats.

It was all fun and games at the hospital.  K was epiduraled and pain-free, and we all joked and giggled into the wee hours of the morning until the baby's heart rate kept dipping and taking too long to recover.  It started to be a little less fun.  And while I watched her nurse and doctor studying the monitors with worried looks and K cried out of fear and worry, all fun completely ceased.  In the end, they wheeled her out for a c-section.  

Then it was rushed and scary.  But it was so quick and went well, and really all that matters is that K is fine and now has one of the prettiest, healthiest baby girls ever.

And after the whole experience was over, I've come to some conclusions.

I want to be an L&D nurse so bad.  Still.  Like yesterday.

I want to work at that hospital.  I delivered my last two there and then got to watch them in action with K, and I love them.

After 24+ hours of not sleeping, I become deliriously goofy and then deranged and scary.  Who knew?

I really don't want to be pregnant again.  Ever.  

But I wouldn't mind another baby.  OMGWTF??!!!1!!

But really, cutest baby ever.  After my three.  And she has that soft, velvety baby skin and teeny tiny fingernails.  And teeny tiny eyelashes and makes teeny tiny squeaks.  I'm lucky I've been fixed, because it still crosses my mind occasionally that Smella could use a baby sister.  

The husband will read this, scowl and inform me I'm not allowed to visit K until S is two.  

That might not be such a bad idea.

And again with the lists

1. Remember when K moved to the middle of nowhere a few months ago? Well, due to some unfortunate events, she's moving again. And while the reason she's moving is kind of terrible, I'm so excited because she's moving 10-15 minutes away from me. Yay! I might actually get to see her more than twice a year now. Which is good because she just found out she's pregnant with number four. Our middle and youngest children are five weeks apart each, but I told her she has to go this one alone. I'm totally with her in spirit though, especially since I'll get to snuggle and smoosh a brand new baby in a few months.

2. I finished my 1500-word argument paper for English, and I took my psychology midterm last night, so I'm done for the week. It seems weird not to have anything to do or study or write, but I'm enjoying the week of rest.

3. This blog. Gah. I want so much to keep up with it better, but I'm having a hard time doing that. I don't even really have anything exciting going on to write about, but I feel like I should check in at least once a week.

4. This list is only going to have four things on it. Completely weird and even numbered, but I can't poop out anything else. I think I may go nap instead.

We know how to party hard

While standing in line last night at Target with K and C, giggling like mad loons because we were free, free, FREE of children and husbands, the cashier says, "Looks like a girls night out."

K says, "Yep, that's exactly right."

Cashier smiles. "Everyone needs one of those now and then."

C, completely dry and stone-faced, "We do this every day."

We erupted into another fit of giggles while the cashier looked at us like we had been snorting lines of coke in the shoe aisle.

(We hadn't. We had been trying on all the highest heels we could find though and then testing out our "model walks." Dangerous shit, man.)

Can't you just smell the cow poo?

C and I made it back from our trip to K's new house on Friday. The drive is as every bit as awful as I expected. There will be no more drop-ins to K's house with an hour and ten minute drive. C and I helped paint K's son's room, and hey, I hate painting. It was the first time I'd actually painted a wall, and I think it pretty much sucks. So there. I've learned something new about myself.


I also ruined a perfectly good shirt because I'm a total dumbass who paints in nice shirts. I really thought, "Painting doesn't have to be messy! I'll just make sure I'm careful." I'm still picking off tiny blue specks of paint from random spots on my body. Duh.

K's neighbors? Really real Amish peoples. Horse and buggy, no electricity Amish. I felt like a total whore sitting on her porch what with my v-neck shirt and Diet Coke, but they were friendly enough to just wave and not smite thee.

I will say that why I'd never pick to live out in the middle of NOWHERE, it is gorgeous and open. Neighbors aren't piled up on one another. It's quieter. Complete strangers wave at you when you drive past. It's quaint and charming. I just really, really, really like Target.

74 Days. I can DO this.

1. First day off of school. I've broken up fourteen fights, said "please quit yelling" nine hundred times, and already cracked open that bottle of tequila I was saving for something special. I type surprisingly well drunk off my ass, no?

2. C and I are making the road trip to K's new house tomorrow. 54 miles. A little over an hour. I told her I'd drive if she'd bring yummy road trip snacks. What? No one wants their blood sugar to drop on such. a. long. drive.

3. My mom will be keeping the kids while I go tomorrow. I feel for her a little. Just a little.

4. Big D lost a lens to his glasses sometime in a bouncehouse last night. And since he didn't tell anyone until this morning, it's gonzo. Ossip would be pleased to replace it for $76. Isn't that swell of them?

5. 74 days left until school starts. About an hour until nap time. Five hours until I get to leave for work. Hey, everyone needs a coping mechanism.

Happy Mutha's Day

I spent my Mother's Day at K's nephew's birthday party. This was after I'd opened my presents though: a box of chocolates from Big D (He offered to eat the raspberry cream ones for me because he knows I hate raspberry. Selfless, that kid.); a cake from Smella (She wanted to buy me party hats, but the husband steered her a little.); a CD from the husband (Spoon. The album title cracks me up.); and slobbery kisses and probably a poopy diaper from Boobers (What? He's only 11 ¾ months old.).

My mom? I baked her a cherry pie. And the sister and I went in on a gift card together so the mom could buy lots and lots of cookbooks. The mom adores pies and cookbooks.

It rained and was cold all day Mother's Day, but we had fun. I mean, who doesn't love a good face-slamming cake fight amongst adults during a seven-year-old's birthday party? And during musical chairs when a dad yells out to his five-year-old who can't find an empty chair, "You're out, ya loser!"? I mean, that's what makes parties for me.

K's family? A little whacked.

I got lots of good ideas to use for Boober's party coming up this Sunday. Like after you've grilled your hotdogs, make sure you put them on the styrofoam tray that the raw hamburger meat came in. Yum-O! Birthday cake, ice cream, and a touch of E. coli!

I'm still sorry I forgot the camera.

It only gets worse

K will be closing on her house 54 miles away on May 30. It's official. I'm looking into getting Vonage (woohoo hoo hoo hoo woohoo hoo hoo hoo) and their free unlimited long distance.

But the worst part? The part that I'm not sure I could live with if I were her? There's no Target. The closest Target will be an hour drive away. How does she expect to survive, people? The delicious $1 bins. The cute baby clothes. The hundreds of rows of wonderful Target goodness. Gone. Just a Wal*Mart 30 minutes away and a crappy Piggly Wiggly or something. Gah. I'm not even sure I can visit her knowing I'll be that far away from a Target.

Please keep her in your thoughts.

BFF

I've known my bestest friend forever since eighth grade. She was newish to school, and when another friend invited her to sit at our regular table during lunch, I didn't like her. Thought she was a total snob and rather bitchy. But she ate lunch with us everyday, and then I had a few other classes with her, and the more I talked to her, I realized that hey, maybe I did like her. Maybe she really wasn't a bitchy snob, just kind of quiet until you get her riled up. Because hoo-boy, she can get riled up.

We haven't been apart since.

There were sleepovers in the beginning, mingling of siblings and families (hers is award-winning crazy), and later, some underage drinking, some aimless driving around asking, "I don't know, what do you wanna do?" and then boys, marriage, babies, new houses... We've done them all together.

K currently lives 2.91 miles away (thanks, Mapquest). I like this fact. And no, it's not that we're at each other's houses constantly. We have six kids between us, two jobs, two husbands, a house apiece to clean, trumpet lessons, soccer, etc, etc. So no, there's not much visiting. We try to meet up every other Thursday with another mutual friend and we also talk daily on the phone. We're there for all six kids' birthdays, Christmas, our birthdays, and the occasional midnight freak-out when one of us pops up unexpectedly pregnant.

K is moving soon. Well, as long as the house passes inspection. And I'm happy for her. Mostly. I'd be totally happy save for the fact that this house will be an hour away. 53.72 miles. She will be long-distance to phone. We talk every.single.day. I don't even have a long-distance provider on my land line. I don't randomly pop in on her very often, but I can if I want. 54 miles away? Not so much. I'm going to have save money for gas just to visit and rollover minutes just to call her.

I'm going to miss her. And I can almost guarantee that since she's not easy to hop in a car and run down the road to see, I'm going to miss hanging out with her. She promises to "drive into town" as often as possible, but really, with the above mentioned responsibilities, that's easier said than done. She is truly the only person who fully understands me, gets me, and never judges. We can finish each other's sentences, she's watched me give birth three times.

I'm hoping, fingers crossed, that nothing changes between us. I'm not sure I could take it.

Whew.

I finally had that much-needed break (shout-out to the husband for suffering through three kids all alone). It was cooling and refreshing and I feel so much better. Or maybe it was just the fact that it was raining. I dunno.

I'm not sure the husband realizes how much I need to escape like that, because he occasionally gets, I don't know, grumbly, about me leaving for the night. But I ate a grown-up meal at a relatively grown-up restaurant and I didn't have to share. If I had ordered something hot, I would've eaten it at that temp (shout-out to lettuce wraps though. Not hot, but still delicious). I had real grown-up conversation with two women I absolutely adore. I come back after a few hours out and actually miss the offspring and husband. I sometimes want to sneak into the offsprings' bedrooms and nuzzle their heads. But I refrain. Because they're asleep and it's SO rude to be woken up by your mom nuzzling your head. Seriously.

I have two more days off of work (shout-out to Becca the schedule maker. I needed three days off in a row) before I start a five day stretch with another three days off. The weather's gorgeous today, so we're heading out to bask in it. I'm hoping to birthday shop for the husband tomorrow and not eat myself silly because I've lost four pounds since Tuesday morning (shout-out to Weight Watchers, I guess?). Back to the grindstone Sunday, but for now, I'm out.