Americanuck

Twinkle Twinkle

Originally uploaded by Americanuck

It’s a star! Yes, I finally found a star for our Christmas tree that I not only can stand, I actually kinda like it. It’s a little bit glitzy (see glitter sprinkled here and there) but after Sean pointed it out to me at a local Christmas store it kinda grew on me.

So what the hey! It’s better than that Santa we bought in the meantime and I’m sure Santa is getting awfully tired of having Tom peeking up his skirt…

Have I ever mentioned how much I HATE SNOW??

I’m sure I have..

When I heard the call for wet snow I had that awful sinking feeling in my gut. I hate driving in that stuff. I’m scared shitless and my car, lovely as it is sucks in the slushy kind of snow. Even my old crappy metro did better but the best I ever had was my old Honda Civic.

A half hour before I had to go pick up Chris and drive Sean to his Father’s it must have started because I did keep my eye out periodically through the day. Of course when I had to go out it was snowing like crazy. By the time I had picked up Chris and started to head down their Dad’s way it was scary! The roads were so slippery and just turning slowly from the more main road off onto the side road that leads to his place my car started to slide sideways. Just as that happened the ABS light when on in my car and never went out again.

Sure, the very first time my ABS fires at all, it fails. Nice! I’ve never set the ABS off before.

Chris tells me to send him a message in Facebook when I get home (he’s as bad a worrywart as me) so after my white knuckle drive home it starts easing up to more like wet snow the closer I got here. I was planning on stopping at the store on the way back tonight but sod that I decided to come straight home and look up what the light meant in my car. It says as long as the brake failure light isn’t on I’m alright, I’ve got brakes, but I have to take it in for flippin’ service. Blah!! I hate car problems almost as much as I hate snow!

I took a quick walk to the nearby A&W to grab dinner (again, nothing much in the house as I was planning on doing some shopping) and took a couple of quick shots with my old camera. It doesn’t look like much but it’s mushy and was way worse further South.

When we move, we are definitely moving to warmer climates, but one with dry heat. Less chances of Palmetto bugs, at least I hope!

Hmm…. snow, Palmetto bugs…snow, Palmetto bugs..

Second thought, Monterey Bay area sounds pretty good to me right now.

I remember the day I found out as clearly as if it were yesterday.

I had suspected something may be up but I really wasn’t sure, I mean I didn’t really know exactly what it would feel like. The only way other than practically having a chemistry degree to work the darn tests (no pee on a stick in those days) was to visit the doctor.

There was a exam, urine test and a blood test to be 100% sure. When the Doc patted my knee and congratulated me and called me Momma I felt this rush of complete joy. Sure I was young and newly married but I was ready, I knew I was. I had always dreamed of having kids 21 years old or not, I was going to be a Mom.

I skipped home. I didn’t live far from the Doctors office at the time, just a couple of blocks away. I kept hugging myself bubbling with the secret that only I knew and bursting to tell. I got home and told my ex and his face registered shock. I think he was kind of hoping I wasn’t pregnant. We were both only working part-time hours and hadn’t tried to have kids. In fact it was kind of an oops. One of those things as I was on the pill but was also taking a anti-biotic for an infection. As it turns out a few years later they realized that anti-biotics kind of nullify the pill.. which explained a lot. I will give him this though, after the initial shock wore off he was very supportive.

I remember calling my parents and my In-laws. Everyone was really nice but I’m sure in the back of their minds, along with my Ex I’m sure they were thinking, oh but they are so young.

Not long after I started to bleed. I was heartbroken because I thought I was going to lose this child that I had already grown to love and I cried so hard. I was rushed to emergency and waited for agonizing hours in the hallway of the emergency ward (there were no rooms available) for an ultra-sound alone and scared. My ex went to work, no work no pay and I was so glad to see my Step Mom-in-Law show up and hold my hand. When I was finally wheeled into the room and they squeezed the cold jelly on my stomach the tears just started leaking, I was afraid of what I was going to see. I heard the tech mutter an oh! and did some more clicking and adjusting and then went out to get someone. The other person came in and they both peered at the monitor. With grim faces the doctor explained to me that it appeared that there was a lot of blood in there and most likely I would lose the baby. They pointed out what looked like a dark mass below a cashew nut to try and get me to understand but I was kind of numb. It hadn’t happened yet but it was only a matter of time and they sent me home.

I was booked an appointment to see my regular doctor and I went in to see him a week later. Nothing had changed so he decided to book me another ultrasound. The tech had the same face on that the others did and did a lot of the same mumbling. My doctor kept a close eye on me and I still kept right on bleeding but still tested very much pregnant. But I was still so scared and sad.

My G.P. decided to send me to a specialist earlier than normal, he wasn’t one that did deliveries anymore anyway. My first appointment with the specialist he examined me, looked at my records and smiled. He told me not to worry, that what was wrong was something common called implantation bleeding but that I was an extreme case as was it turns out his Nanny. He said give it a couple of weeks and it will stop and stop it did.

The rest of my pregnancy was pretty textbook. I went through all the normal tests save for another ultra-sound as I had already had two of them early on. I guess they didn’t change doing it more than twice? Anyway I got bigger and rounder and much happier as I knew that baby was growing too. As my pregnancy was considered risky I wasn’t allowed to carry anything heavy. I was a teller in those days which meant carrying a cash drawer. My Supervisor or the other tellers would help me carry my drawer back and forth to the vault every day. My branch was like a family, everyone was very close and they were all excited about the baby coming and treated me like I was made of glass.

I couldn’t stand all day so now and then I would sit on the swing out stool in my wicket and balanced my poor swollen feet on my garbage can. One day I fell off my stool when my feet tipped over the garbage can. I fell right on my drawer with my stomach and scared a year or two off the life of my boss and pulled a whole bunch of muscles to boot. He sent me home and when I came back in the next day sore I found my garbage can was turned upside down. Cal insisted that I throw my garbage on the floor and they would pick it up for me. He wanted my foot stool to be stable for me. I was so touched.

According to the doctor the baby wasn’t due until the end of the month so I worked up until November 18th and on my final day my coworkers had a shower for me. They had all chipped in and bought me a diaper bag full of stuff and a beautiful wooden highchair. The left over money they had put in an account opened for the baby who of course was at that point was nameless so it said Baby L.

I was going to miss them all but I was all ready to nest and rest and prepare. Turns out I didn’t have much time. On the 21st I started to feel pains. I had experienced the false labour contractions but these felt different. I toughed them out for a while but they seemed to be getting closer together so I went to the hospital. My ex once again had to leave me to go to work but my Sister came and stayed with me. The doctors thought that it was going to be a long haul anyway and man they were right. Turns out I had back labour where the baby is facing the wrong way, though head down. That was so not fun. They sent me home saying that it appears it was going to be a while. Nothing was really progressing but the pains sure didn’t go away. I continued to feel contractions in varying degrees over the next day or so.

I remember that when the labour intensified that the only thing that got me through it was singing a song my Dad taught me years ago called “The Grand old Duke of York”. It’s a marching song and repeating it out loud or in my head would help. I also remember that when my water finally broke it was around 9 Pm and I was talking to my friend Becky on the phone. She would wait quietly while I worked through a contraction and then we would start talking again.

The minute I put the receiver down in the cradle my water broke.

I calmly gathered my nightgown up and waddle through to give the news to my Ex. He went into Ricky Ricardo mode. He was flying around the house trying to find:

“Whereismywalletahmykeysohmygodwhereisyoursuitcaseohmygod!!!”

“wheredidIjustputthekeysagain?”

I just sat serenely watching.

It was lightly snowing that night and the roads were frosty. He was trying to hold his panic together and drive as normally as possible but kept glancing over at me with fear, especially when I would start huffing and puffing. I’m sure he had visions of having to deliver the baby by the side of the road or something and he was VERY squeamish. Hah!

We got to the hospital in plenty of time, I changed and they told me to walk around. WTF? I was TIRED!! I hadn’t slept properly in days with the damn contractions and now I’m supposed to walk?

They offered me some Demerol and I refused saying oh no, not I! I was going to do this naturally!! When transition hit I changed my mind. DRUGS!! I cried, GIVE ME DRUGS!

I was told it was too late, it wouldn’t do me any good anymore. DRUGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so they gave me a shot. They were right, it didn’t help.

I was whooshed into the delivery room and the doctor showed up, had his peek (along with so many of the others so far that night) and said “LETS HAVE THIS BABY SHALL WE?”

When he finally gave me the ok to push I was so relieved. And I took a shit on the table. OMG I was soooooooo embarrassed. The nurses were so ok with it and said not to worry happens all the time. I’m sorry, not to me it doesn’t!!!! Ew!!!Don’t worry, nothing got near the baby!
The doctor gave me shot to numb the ‘area’ just in case they needed to do any cutting to assist (eek) and my ex almost passed out. He hates needles. It was pretty comical.

I pushed for a long time and it seemed like that baby was stuck. My pelvic bone was too small and I was exhausted from lack of sleep for days so they decided to use the vacuum extractor to help things along. They had to use it twice to help along with my pushing and out popped the head. FACING UP. After all the damn back labour and the baby STILL came out facing the wrong way. FIGURES! Doc said that most babies come out facing down and I had a star gazer. And a boy! One with a GIANT HEAD!

It was a little after 1:00 am November 23rd.

The suction from the extractor left a swollen bruise on the baby’s head like a yarmulke. He was one of the only non-coneheads in the entire nursery. He was beautiful.

We spent a couple of days in the hospital and I had in-room boarding with my baby.

As exhausted as I was I would just catch catnaps here and there and spent the rest of the time staring in awe at this tiny tiny baby sleeping so peacefully in his little plastic bed on wheels.

I named him Christopher in honour of my love of all things Winnie the Pooh and James in honour of my love of all things Sean Connery (in Bond mode of course). I told my ex the middle name was for his Dad (shhhh don’t tell) which ok, was kind of true too cos he is a dear.

All this happened 20 years ago, if not to the hour, to the day.

Christopher was my first. The one I made more mistakes on. The one that grew up with me to some extent because like it or not I was little more than a child myself. But to be fair, I was pretty mature for my age.

My first experience of the overpowering love that is Mother love.

20 years ago today he graced my life with his presence and I am and will always be ever so grateful no matter how  he drives me completely and utterly up the wall at times.

He was the bright little boy that said “Yes Mommy!!” with enthusiasm every time I asked him something and the one that mumbles at me for the most part now unless he is in a particularly chatty mood. But I know he loves me just as much as he ever did. Maybe more. Despite the grunts. The best big brother in the world to Sean who he used to call “His baby” when he was four and treated him like his best pal and keeper.

Happy 2oth Birthday Chris. Thanks for being born. I love you.

Man I am behind, here it is almost a week later and I’ve yet to write about our adventure cross border shopping last Sunday. Ah well, so this will be two posts today.

We got up super early a necessary evil these days unless you enjoy sitting in your car for hours on end staring longingly at the distant border post and dying for your first cup of life giving coffee. As it is, we got to the border somewhere between 7:30 and 8:00 with maybe a 15 -20 min wait, and the border dudes kind of laughed at how early we were considering yanno, the shops don’t open early on Sunday. Um, they work there at the border right? They SEE the crazy that this has become!! Anyway, we had a breakfast ahead with that longed for coffee waiting for us and sure, some time to kill.

We fueled up and after a nice relaxing breakfast Tom suggested that we head down to Burlington, a wee bit father down the I-5 which happens to have another Ross. Please? Like I needed to be asked twice? The one in Bellingham wasn’t going to open until 10 and we DID have time to kill. When we got there though, we found out the damn store didn’t open until 11!!! Good thing there was a Khols and Linens n things to check out. While in there I found this awesome Shiatsu chair pad massage thingie that OH MY GOD felt good. I’ve had some bad experiences with massages from real people before but this thing felt amazing. It was warm and rollie and kneaded the kinks right out. To be honest I could have sat there quite a while longer but I think the store would have frowned on that.

Even after all that we STILL had time to kill before Mecca opened and we popped into the Old Navy. I don’t tend to go in there much in the States as we have them up here too but I’m sure glad I did. I found several cheap pairs of ballet flats (shoes that I would LIVE in year round if weather permitted. So even if Ross turned out to be a bust, at least I had shoes.

Waiting in anticipation!!

Good thing it would turn out that shoes did make me happy, both the Burlington and Bellingham Ross stores were total wash outs. Nothing!! I’ve almost always found at least a few things. *sigh*

We had our usual Linner at Anthony’s and the weather cleared up enough for us to take some pictures from the walk way near the restaurant.

The sun when it started going down was really pretty.

After when we were walking to the car Tom realized that he hadn’t taken his usual group picture in front of the sign picture so here it is, granted the sign is a wee bit farther away than usual …

We broke routine this time and headed to the mall AFTER eating and I bought the most awesome soft robe at Bath and Body works along with a few more lotions and potions. I swear Tom makes me go in there every time we go even if I say I don’t NEEEEEEEEEED to. That store is like crack to me.

We also went on a quest for hot fries. I love hot fries and for whatever reason they don’t sell them here. I happened to find out after doing some online research that some Rite-Aid stores in WA state sell them cha-ching! We managed to grab four small bags which is better than nothing along with a couple of other flavours (which kind of sucked). The are not Tom’s hot fries but I can’t ever get those unless I go to Georgia and last time I had only enough room to stuff a couple in my suitcase

It was dark and later than we had hoped by the time we started heading to the border. We had stopped off at the grocery store and then on a seemingly impossible task of finding a post box(!) to mail off Sister Carol’s Xmas present (yes it’s early but we didn’t want to go anywhere closer to Xmas this year). It was nuts, you’d think the damn things would be everywhere but not so much.

When we took the off-ramp to the truck crossing (normally the shorter, less touristy border) we screeched to a halt right there. Ugh. Didn’t look good. Turns out it looked worse than it actually was because it was maybe just slightly over an hour before we hit the border itself. Not bad.  When we got there we declared our goods, not much this time really at least compared to previous trips and the guy waved us through. I’m sure we were small fish compared to all the people snapping up the expensive stuff these days so not worth sending us in. Score!

Ok this story is extremely bizarre. I was in tears by the end of it, particularly the part about the guy and a traffic cone.

I have to say though, I’m a bit puzzled why anyone would want to pork a bicycle, but yanno… other than the danger of getting something caught in spokes or gears who did he harm? He was behind a locked door, unlike traffic cone guy.

The courts thought this was the way it should be dealt with. Tom said “Well first it starts with bicycles and next it moves to..”

“Pogo sticks?” I ask?

It is a strange world!