Reading a story about a black mother who was asked by a visiting child if the mother made chocolate milk (while she was breastfeeding the baby) reminded me of a funny story that happened to us, after the birth of Emma.
We have friends who struggle with infertility, and they were blessed to be chosen to adopt a baby. The little girl came home to them a week before I went into labor with Emma. Mackenzie was fascinated by their baby, who was a very dark skinned African baby.
When the Hubster made the call to tell our children that their sister had arrived, Mackenzie asked several questions about her - she was very excited. Finally, she got onto the phone with me and said "Mommy, what color baby did we get?" When I told her that her sister was white, just like the rest of our family, she said, "Oh, darn! I really wanted a black baby! They are so cute! Maybe next time!"
The Hubster and I are as pale as they come, so if this was to happen, I think there would be some explaining to do!
I wonder how many people were up at the butt crack of dawn this morning. Mackenzie will do really well in a job that requires her to get up before the entire rest of the world. And she's so flippin' cheerful about it too. See the time stamp? We've already been up, oh, 30 minutes..........
Just for kicks:
1)Starting with your head down to your toes, what health/beauty products have you used/applied to your body so far today? [For example, shampoo, toothpaste, makeup, cologne/perfume, nail polish, etc.] Catwalk shampoo and conditioner, phisoderm face wash, olay regenerist serum - kind of a moisturizer, Crest Vanilla mint toothpaste, Lever soap, victoria's Secret Pear Glace perfume, Degree deodorant, and Burt's Bees lip gloss. I think that's it, and enough of a walking commercial. Geez.
2. Do you have a ritual when you take a shower, such as washing your hair first or maybe even brushing your teeth in the shower? If so, what? Do you prefer baths or showers? Wash hair first, clean face second, rinse conditioner third. After that, anything's fair game. :) I haven't taken a bath since I was in labor with Emma.
3. How do you get yourself up and going in the mornings? Coffee? A hot shower? Breakfast? Would you consider yourself a morning person at all? When do you usually get up? I didn't used to be a morning person, but I can see now how I could get there. I have a cold coffee frappuccino every morning, while I check my email, my blog and my favorite web site really quickly for overnight developments. I don't get a shower until the big kids leave for school - if I'm not driving them.
4. Do you normally eat breakfast? What do you usually have? Do you usually make it at home or go out for breakfast, or do you prefer not to eat breakfast? I rarely eat breakfast. If I am hungry, which isn't usual for me, I may have eggs and cheese, or toast. Every once in a while, I'll get an egg and cheese biscuit fro Hardee's. If we go out, I will always eat breakfast - but I'm not much on cooking it. Probably because I like complicated breakfasts - egg casserole, omelets, skillets,
5. What does your alarm clock sound like? A buzzer, music, or something else? Do you ever set your clock fast so that you push yourself to get ready sooner? Are you usually on time, late, or somewhere in-between? It's a buzzer that goes off, for the first time, at 5 minutes before 6. I hit the snooze, and grab 8 more minutes of sleep. Sometimes I just lay there and think about everything that I have to do. I go into the bathroom, use the facilities, fumble around until I find my glasses, take my medicine, and stare at myself in the mirror to pysch myself up for another day. Then I get out of bed, plaster on my smiley happy mommy face, and start to rattle the cages of the kids.
Probably more about me than you wanted to know, eh?
Well, for my three readers, and you over there in the corner, sorry I’ve been so absent . Baby Riley’s been fighting sleep - apparently, she gave it up for Lent, a few months early. Between the fact that she's got an ear infection in one ear, and a ruptured eardrum in the other, and Allegra's asthma attack, I’ve been to the pediatrician’s office three times this week. I think next week is the dedication of our very own wing in the office.
So, yesterday, I was driving around and Gabe asked if I could play a song for him. He requested “Raise up our glasses”. Otherwise known as “Beer for my horses”, a duet between Toby Keith and Willie Nelson. The first time through, he just listened to the song, and I took the opportunity to really belt it out.
I love me a good song, even though I am the worst singer imaginable.
“Turn it up again, Mom! I LOVE this song!” Ok, no sweat. I am alllll about a good song.
“Well a man come on the six o’clock news,
Somebodys been shot, Why did he get shot? Somebody’s been abused,
Somebody blew up a building, What is blew up? Somebody stole a car, Who stole a car? Somebody got away somebody didn’t get too far, yeah.” Why didn’t he get too far? Where was he going?
Grandpappy told my pappy “Back in my day, son
A man had to answer for the wicked that he’d done What’s wicked? Take all the rope in Texas, find a tall oak tree
Round up all of them bad boys, hang them high in the street, Hang who in the street? For all the people to see.” That justice is the one thing you can always find,
You’ve got to saddle up your boys, you’ve gotta draw a hard line Saddle up what boys? When the gunsmoke settles, we’ll sing a victory tune,
And we’ll all meet back at the local saloon. What is a saloon?
We’ll raise up our glasses against evil forces, singing, Like Star Wars? Whiskey for my man, beer for my horses.” What’s whiskey? Why beer?
I turned the CD off. No point in listening to the second verse.
So, I'm a day late. So sue me. I've had the Hubster home. 'nuff said.
Yesterday was Gabe's birthday. My little man is five. I can't believe it. FIVE.
I was induced with him, due to being postdates. His due date was calculated, with the help of my charts, as being October 11. When I went for my 36 week check, I had an internal, because I ASKED FOR ONE. I know, what kind of sick person am I that I actually asked for an internal exam?? The entire week before had been filled with contractions, and I was convinced that I was progressing. The nurse smirked at me, and went down the hall to spread the gossip of "the woman who requested an internal!" Whooppee.
I was found to be 4 centimeters. Woo-hoo! The ob was amazed, and told me to go home and pack my bag - I'd be holding my sweet baby any day. She said the same at my 37 week check - 4 cms, any day now. And at the 38 week check. And the 39.
At 39 weeks, she stripped my membranes, an extremely uncomfortable procedure that usually brings on labor. I returned for my 40 week check. Had the membranes stripped again. I was *heartily* sick of this pattern, and yet on it went. The 41 week check - stripped yet again, and offered an induction. Which she was certain that I wouldn't need, as I was going to be holding my baby any time now.
Ocotber 25 - officially 14 days over, and I checked myself into the hospital bright and early. The Hubster was in charge of getting the older three kids to their respective schools, and was going to meet me later. The night before, I had done a course of castor oil, and was wildly uncomfortable all night, but still no labor. The contractions that had plagued me at 36 and 37 weeks had stopped by 38, and I hadn't felt another. I had tried the black cohosh, the blue cohosh, the frequent sex, the mexican foods, the chinese foods, the bumpy rides. All of it. I was sooo sick of being pregnant. The doctor broke my water, and told me to walk the halls. The halls that just happened to be under construction.
I walked for two hours. I dodged the jackhammers, the ladders, and the inquisitve stares of the workers. Guess they had never seen a hugely pregnant woman, wearing two hospital gowns and trailing water. Glamorous, I was not.
I walked, and walked. I never had a contraction. 10:00, and I went for a check. I was *still* four centimeters. The same as I had been for SIX WEEKS. I sat with the monitor strapped on for the required fifteen minutes, and got up and began the hospital walk again. I walked until noon. I came back, and nothing. Not one measley contraction; not one. When the Hubster returned, I consented to the pitocin drip. Labor came fast and hard after that. I rocked in the rocker, and hung out over the side of the bed. At 2:31, I began to push, and with two pushes, Gabriel was born. He went straight into a Laboyer bath - given by The Hubster. 7 pounds, 6 ounces. I was the talk of the labor floor - I had gone the longest of any recent pregnancy, the longest without labor starting after breaking my water bag, and the only patient in memory to be induced with pitocin and no pain medication. He was one of my two children to score a 10 on the Apgar.
He is now a bright, sunny cheerful boy. Today, we had his checkup at the doctor. He is 34 pounds and 40 inches. He's smaller than he should be, but he's had so many steroids for breathing that he may have lost a few inches. As the doctor said, though, it's better to breath and be a bit shorter. He makes up jokes all the time. At school, the teacher calls him her "giggle bunny", and says he can get the entire class laughing in just a minute. The doctor today told him to hop on one leg, as a test of his balance, and Gabe jumped up on the doctor's leg. Get it? He hopped on one leg. It was hysterical, and so typical of Gabe. Everything is black and white for him, with no shades of gray. He loves trains, SpiderMan, playdough, riding his bike, and gymnastics.
There is a discussion board that I frequent, one I've been a member of for quite a while now, since right after G was born. In fact, I'm coming up on my five year anniversary there. I love it. I love the topics of conversation, and I've made some of my best friends ever there. Once a year, I try to make a trip to get together with some of the other women. We always have a great time - it's like a sorority reunion. There was an instance once, with a woman who came on, and stirred up a bunch of trouble. Many feelings were hurt, and a few people left the boards. I left for a while, but missed my friends too much and came back. These women have been there for me during pregnancies, births, stressful situations with my children, arguments with my husband, and the general minutiae of life.
Lately, we've been discussing what would make you a better mother. Most of it lighthearted - in fact, it's become a running joke - "Well, that wouldn't happen if you were a better mother." So, here is what would or wouldn't happen in my life, if only I was a better mother.......
- Emma wouldn't go outside and take off all her clothes every time I let her out to swing and slide.
- Gabriel wouldn't bite his siter.
- Allegra wouldn't try to hang out with the "popular" crowd, but instead would love to be with true friends.
- Nikolas would never have trouble with bullies.
- My children would only want to watch educational programs. In another language.
- There would be no need to do laundry daily, since they would never spill on their clothes, sweat, or get dirty.
- I would never realize that a child's feet had grown by seeing the imprints of the shoes on their feet.
- Gabe wouldn't go to school without his shoes.
- My children would *hate* to eat fast food.
- Their dressers would be tidy and all the clothes would be neatly folded inside.
- No one would have kudos bars in their lunch, or be signed up for hot dog lunch today at school.
- Emma wouldn't be an addict to her "bubbie".(pacifier, for the uninitiated)
- No one would wake before 6:00 on school days, 8:00 on the weekend, and all would take two hours naps. And go to bed at 7 cheerfully. And sleep all night, with no bad dreams/need for water/cold/hot/want to see another person.
- I wouldn't forget to send a snack to school with Allegra on soccer days - when she has a two hour practice immediately after school.
- I'd never have to make a run to school for left behind lunches/instruments/permission slips/PE clothes.
- There wouldn't be days when I went to a drive thru, just to get french fries, so that Riley would just.stop .crying for one minute.
- I wouldn't worry if I'm yelling so loudly that I should close the windows for fear of the neighbors calling child protective.
- I would never find Riley crawling around with bits of tissue in her mouth. Used ones, sometimes.
- My kids would all wear only hand made clothing and sleep under handmade blankets.
In short, if I was a better mother, it'd be boring.
Oh, my God. I NEVER thought this day would come to an end. Suffice to say, I hope I never have another like this. It was such a spectacular day of horse manure that I'm actually having a drink, and most of you know that I rarely drink. Kids woke up crabby and struggled to remain vertical. Everyone asked for oatmeal for breakfast - in particular, oatmeal "with cream, like your friend's little boy!" (My friend Princess gave her son oatmeal with cream when we vacationed together, and HE licked the spoon, it was so good. Not my kids. Nope. No way.) Fourty -five minutes of "Eat! Your! Oatmeal!!" followed by second helpings of "You won't have another breakfast this week until you finish this bowl!", and I finally admitted defeat. Guess what is for breakfast tomorrow??
I turned around after they left and found the two lunches that I packed STILL ON THE COUNTER. So, a trip to the school, after dropping Gabe off at preschool. The Hubster called and asked if I could drop his paycheck off at the bank. I had to ask him twice, since I couldn't hear. Nope, no problem with my ears, it was the dueling screaming sisters. I made the dumb mistake of driving with my windows open, and couldn't figure out why people were staring at me. Yup, they were *that* loud. I decided to get a cup of coffee on the way to the bank, and realized I had no a) wallet b) driver's license c) magic money card d) cash e) phone f) starbucks cash card. I was soooo screwed. I convinced the teller to please let me keep $5 out of the Hubster's paycheck, got the coffee, came home and did the bills.
What joy! What fun! What supreme bliss! Next month, I think I'd rather cut my own hair than do the bills. Oh, how I hate the bills! To reward myself, I took myself and the three little ones to lunch, at a buffet. Brrriiinnngg!!! My phone rang. (Well, not really rang, as it plays Toccata and Fugue in D major, so it sang, but whatever.) It was the school nurse, with my incredibly ill 9 year old daughter. She had a fever, of 100. Nope, not a mistype. 100 degrees. This was after recess, coming into a warm classroom and not having any water. So, another unscheduled trip to the school. I put her in the van, where my incredibly ill daughter drove me nuts with the questions. The questions! They burn my brain! "How long can a person survive without fresh air? How long without water? What happens to the water you drink? What is Viagra? What is the electoral college? Can we get a hamburger? How about some fries? Why are you so crabby?" She's going to school tomorrow, you can bet on that.
Upon our return home, we commenced with the daily "Why can't we get a dog?" argument. It seems that The Hubster told the kids that we could get a dog, if only I would agree. Nuh huh. Nooo way. I hate dogs. Hate everything about them. I am so not an animal person at all. I got bit once, and have the scar to prove it. I clean up enough poop and pee from the kids, I'm not doing it for a dog. All valid arguments on my side, but they don't hold water with the kids. So we revisit the topic daily, with their hope that I have developed amnesia.
The girls had Nutcracker rehearsal with the visiting Russian ballerina, who apparently has never had the pleasure of learning to tell time. Rehearsal for Mackenzie ended 30 minutes late, and Allegra's started late and ended 40 minutes late. Bedtime was obscenely late, the laundry was all over the house, the peas from dinner decorated the floor. It feels like it should be tomorrow afternoon already.
If tomorrow's not better, and you can't find me, just look for me with my head inside my gas oven.
WANTED, Carmen, mom to the Masses, for dangerous undertakings inside and outside the home. Last seen with her partner The Hubster, and six accomplices (Nikolas, 15, Allegra, 13, Mackenzie 10, Gabriel 8, Emma 5 and Riley, 4). This fugitive is considered armed (with epi pens and inhalers) and dangerous, especially when she hasn't had her morning coffee. She is particularly difficult to recognize due to a recent 80 pound weight loss (size 18-20 down to 2-4!), and has been known to hide beneath large piles of laundry. She's a fan of running races and can be found reading, lifting weights, practicing capoeira or running to the store for milk. ( Read more here.)
