Saturday, June 1, 2013

Yes, we're crazy, is that ok with you?


The last few months have been absolutely crazy for the Jones household.  Of course we have our own special breed of crazy around here and it wouldn’t be our family if it didn’t include some stunningly absurd moments.  Here are some snippets to entertain you normal people.

I think we were going along pretty well aside from my back feeling like it was being beaten up by an entire martial arts class every night.  Getting out of bed was and still is quite the challenge as my back feels worse and my belly expands.  There is quite an art to it and it is not a speedy venture.  As James so lovingly puts it "and she's off, like a thundering herd of turtles".

Well one morning I had a phone call from James in which he relayed the fact that he had just been involved in a car accident.  My stunningly awful first reaction to this news was to say “ok, well I’m not sure what I can do about this”.  He then asked me if I could come and pick him up since his car was not in a drivable state.  My response to this being “I’m not dressed yet and the kids haven’t got on the bus either”.  Just give me the wife of the year award now and be done with it!

I came to my senses soon after and broke one of my own cardinal rules by getting in the car and driving in my pajamas.  I took all the kids with me and found James at the local petrol station.  Why did I not inquire if he was ok, you ask?  Well obviously he was ok if he was calling me right?  I was uncaffeinated at the time.

Actually it turns out he wasn’t exactly ok but even he didn’t know this until the next day.  He had a concussion and some fairly serious damage to his back which is doing a lot better now but is still requiring some therapy. 

This little drama has done nothing for the state of our house of course.  Now both of us have very limited use of our backs and bending over is practically impossible for either of us.  The housework as become something that we dream about getting done.  Every so often I watch an episode of Hoarders on television just to make myself feel slightly better about our messy house.  None of those people have glitter carpet like me and I can still see the floor in several spots.

I’ve continued to visit my chiropractor regularly throughout this pregnancy and this is the source of much entertainment for Abigail.  The first thing that happens when we arrive is that I get to lay down with heat packs on my back and neck and try not to fall asleep for 10 – 15 minutes.  Abigail, meanwhile, uses this time to explore the room and comment on the many exciting possibilities for mischief that arise.  When she bores of that she focuses her attention on me.  This involves having my barefeet tickled, my hair played with and many questions fired at me, all very non conducive to napping.

Well, one day she decided to go a step further and literally climbed up the bed and sat herself on my thighs.  This, of course, gave her unprecedented access to my butt which was a delightful prospect to her and quite a frightening one for me as I lay there completely immobile. The doctor chose that very moment to reenter the room, precisely as she was poking my wobbly butt with her finger and announcing to me “Mummy, your butt is bery big and stinky.  Stinky butt, stinky butt”.

Abigail is just as delighted to accompany me on my regular visits to the ob/gyn.  She has the routine down pat.  We arrive and she plays with toys for about 2 minutes before we are called in by the nurse.  She greets the nurse with arms flung wide, screaming at the top of her lungs “the doctor, the doctor”.  We are then directed to a bathroom in which I am to provide a ‘sample’.  Abigail finds this particular part of the procedure highly fascinating.  The sample is supposed to be deposited into a small Dixie cup and this has become more and more of a blind operation for me as my belly has grown.  Abigail, on the other hand, crouches down in front of me and scrutinizes the procedure with great interest and concentration.  She then helpfully reminds me (and anyone else within the building) that “it not for drinking, no for doctor.  Doctor drink it?”

Once we are done with the examination (usually takes about 10 minutes) we go to visit the receptionist who arranges the next appointment time.  This receptionist has a huge jar of lollypops on her desk and Abigail is allowed to choose one at this point.  Then we happily trot to the door and are off.  At the last appointment, however, I had prebooked 2 appointments in advance and this meant that when we were done we had no reason to visit the receptionist.  This was a travesty of a magnitude not previously experienced. 

Abigail has never been prone to tantrums and is probably our most even tempered child.  On this day she threw the biggest tantrum ever right in the full waiting room.  It took me a while to figure out that she had missed out on a lollypop due to my advanced planning.  I ended up having to pick her up and carry her out as she kicked and screamed the whole way to the car. 

Later that day she also threw a major wobbly when I refused to let her drive the van to Emily’s skating lesson.  Her words were "I'm the mummy, I'm driving Kakewyn and Emiwy. I AM big nough".  Oh boy.

As the weather has gotten warmer and warmer I realized that my 2 pairs of winter maternity pants and 3 tops just wasn’t going to cut it until July so I had to go shopping for some more summery things.  I went to the mall with my sidekick, aka Abigail, in tow.  She was not impressed with shopping at the maternity shop, she expressed a decided preference for a shop across the concourse that sold clothes meant to barely cover teenaged girls.  I tried explaining that I wasn’t going to shop in that shop, ever, but it was clear I was losing ground fast. 

I needed to try some things on which is never an easy task when alone with a toddler.  Unfortunately this particular shop does not have lockable doors on their changing rooms but rather has curtains which just barely cover the gap. 

I managed to position myself in between the curtain and Abigail in the hopes of preserving my dignity while I changed as quickly as I could.  This is not an easy task when decidedly pregnant.  I got into the first outfit and looked in the mirror and as Abigail said “oh, Mummy, you bootiful” I exclaimed “Oh my goodness, I’m enormous”.  I’m sure I heard snickering from the next cubicle!

After making my selections I donned my original clothes and we went in search of other tops in the same cut but different colours.  At this point Abigail was truly past it and several times disappeared completely.  I found her buried in a rack of clothes one time and another time ‘helping’ the sales assistant behind the counter. 

I noticed that there was a young couple shopping.  They had the look of first time parents about them and their eyes were ever widening as they watched my progress through the store.  I turned my back for just a second and lost Abigail again, then I heard a muffled exclamation followed by a cheerful “hewoe” and realized that Abigail had entered the changing room that the young woman was currently occupying.  She came out immediately and I grabbed her and marched towards the checkout. 

When I turned around I noticed that the husband was now standing like a sentry outside his wife’s curtain.  I thought to myself ‘one day they’ll remember this moment as their 2 year old mortifies them in public but for now they’ll probably spend the whole ride home discussing the terrible behavior of that child and how their baby will NEVER do anything so obnoxious’. 

As this pregnancy has advanced I have felt better and better.  I no longer feel sick and besides being slow and clumsy and tired a lot I’ve been doing fantastically well.  I don’t even get woken at night to pee as yet!!  I do count it a huge victory if I can get out of bed in the morning and make it all the way to the bathroom without peeing in my pants though!!

I am trying to prepare for the arrival of this little one and have only recently begun to really feel even slightly ready.  I spent one day moving furniture around, setting up the bed and getting stored away baby stuff out and set up (then I spent the next 2 days unable to move).  I still have the clothes to finish sorting through and haven’t even thought about packing hospital bags yet. 

Actually while trying to sort clothes the other day Emily startled me somewhat.  I was checking all the onesies for stains and broken domes etc and she was looking at the little dresses.  All the clothes were sized from newborn up to 3 months but nothing beyond that.  She picks this one dress up and says “I remember wearing this one and playing with Rebekah”.  Rebekah is one of my brother’s children who is 6 months older than Emily.  Judging from the size of the dress (which Emily did wear) she would have been 4 or 5 months old maximum!!  I have no doubt she does remember since she has freaked us out with other very early memories but that was pretty weird all the same.

On my list of things still to do are:
  • Get my hair dyed so that the baby realizes I’m her mother when she’s born and not some random patient from the geriatric ward.
  • Get a pedicure so that the doctor has something nice to look at besides my nether regions and the nurse doesn’t get an abrasion from my heels while I push.
  • Buy giant sanitary pads for after delivery.
  • Try and find someone to watch our other kids during delivery so that they don’t have to come along for the show.
  • Set up a playlist of soothing music for the labour so I don’t have to listen to the techno on James’ iTunes.

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