Well, we have survived the weekend. It truly was one of work, housework, and play. We're so tired now, and I don't think I can do it justice with this post. But I'll try... for the fans, you know.
So this weekend was a busy one. The GC somehow suckered/guilt-tripped her mother to come in "to assist" with house chores. So the Mother of GC (MoG, for now...) got in Friday AM. Then, MoG and the GC went to the OB appointment. (Thank God, I can't do it anymore! One time was it for me!!!)
Then we went to lunch at the Bluewater Grille, which is quickly becoming our favorite restaurant not named Moe's. There we enjoyed a lovely lunch. We even watched as people came in to dock their boats. One such grouping was extremely entertaining. This poor group consisted of 2 women (who lost the pregnant-not pregnant game with authority!!!) and 2 kids. Clearly, the driver had really no idea how to drive a boat (like I do, but I digress). She was coming in too hot for the poor seawall. The other lady tried to reach over at the increasingly closer pylon to stop the momentum- I am not sure what she was thinking. Next this I remember was seeing her backside straight up in the air! Whew! I didn't know we'd see whales at lunch!!! Then she toppled over into the water. The boat continued into the pylon, bouncing off. Everyone in the restaurant turned and gawked... aghast at the sight. Somehow, the driver got the boat under control, without further carnage.
After lunch, the women of GC dropped me off at Panera to study, while they went off a shoppin!!! (More $$$$ flushed from my pockets.) Seems they had to get frames for the BY's room and new pans for the GC's induction cooktop. After about 2 hours, they picked me up, and we returned to the GM. Once we unpacked everything, it was time for the GC to tour the MoG around the forest. This was fun.
I stumbled out later to see the sights. There the GC was trying to show the MoG different areas, when the MoG starts pulling out vines. Weeds and green carnage was everywhere. The GC was exasperated; she just wanted to show the MoG where things were. Hmmm... this scenario reminded me of every other afternoon with the GC and I, except the roles were quite reversed. Ha ha, I chuckled mightily to myself... I have my revenge!!! Now she sees!!! She looked at me smiling, and she knew!!!
The rest of the evening was spent drinking and constructing our patio furniture. (This is the stuff that the GC somehow got for like 50% off a couple of weeks back. We just hadn't had space to put it up.) Somehow with all the EtOH, we were able to make the furniture stand upright. We could even sit on it!
The next morning I was aroused by a supremely task-oriented GC. This GC was entirely focused, something I hadn't seen in years. I wondered out loud if I pissed her off royally. "No" she says... "But we do have to get a move on." Why? I knew what the plan for the day was, some yardwork, some refinishing of furniture, blah blah blah... "Well, for one, you said that you wanted to paint the whole downstairs!"
eeeerrrr!!! What!?!?!? How much did I drink?!?!?! Damn the MoG and my BY-EtOH tolerance! I've been duped!!! I get out of bed, and the MoG and I go to the local do-it-yourself superstore to buy supplies. Then we get to work:
Painting the laundry room.
Sanding the cabinets down. (2 sliding front cabinets and 1 set of drawers)
2nd coating the laundry room
Taking down the shelves in the laundry room.
Sanding the shelves in the laundry room
Painting the shelves in the laundry room
3rd coating the laundry room
Sanding another set of drawers
Cleaning and wiping down the innards of the furniture with Old English. (Editor's question: Is this the same company that makes the famous malt liquor? I asked the GC, but she could figure why some company would have two diametrically opposed products. But the name is the same! I could have used a nice 40 by now But I digress...)
Painting the 3rd set of drawers
Somewhere in there was lunch at the McDonalds of Chicken... lest I forget!
Man... at some point it became like 6pm... the crew was beat! The GC was running low on fuel. We made an executive decision: no gameroom painting. We'd had enough! So we were done. The GC declared "To the showers!", which we dutifully did. Then we were off to Mellow Mushroom for a well earned meal... and 3 dollar Magic Hat drafts... yummm...
We made it back home... and I was getting ready to turn in.... But No!!! The GC had powered back up, and with the MoG, they were a formidable duo!!! What now? Well, we can unload the boxes of kitchen stuff into the gameroom. (Editors note: It seems that we have been doing well with the renovation. But recently the length has been starting to wear on us. I figured that it was the fact that she didn't have her kitchen yet... Wrong! She couldn't deal with the disorganization! Too many unopened boxes! Too much cardboard and paper everywhere. So we unpacked. and unpacked... and unpacked... Then we were done! Finally. Glasses and dishes and silverware everywhere in the downstairs room. Bedtime!
Sunday was a day of rest. Thankfully I was allowed to sleep in, which in GC/BY time means 8. So I was up. Moved all the painted furniture back into there appropriate places. Then got ready for church. After church, we did a nice tour of downtown W-town and a nice lunch on the river. Then, playtime! We went home, and got changed for our beach endeavor to Carolina Beach! Yeah! We used the MoG as a guinea pig for this endeavor, since we had never been there before.
Nice place. Not many people, but parking was a little better. I dug a hole in the sand for the GC to park her belly, and we vegetated. The water was nice, but the waves might have been to much. The GC started using me as a shield! But then it was time to go home.
Ah, what a weekend!
Monday, July 27, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
A Shout-Out to the Friends of BY!!!
As the Birth of BY (BoBY) draws near, we here in BY Universe figure a shout-out is deserving to all our lovely sponsors! We love you all very dearly here at Baby Yarnoz, and cannot find ways to express it. So, in no particular order:
- Aunt Cam and Uncle Lee (or cousin??)
- Aunt Cris and Uncle Mike
- Mom and Dad (or as known to the BY: Ita and WoWo)
- Grandma
- Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Greg
- Uncle Sears (yes, it's part of the family now)
- Aunts Annette, Sushma, and Sujatha
- Aunt Brooke and Uncle Adam
- Aunt Kelly (it's good to have Aunts in the government!)
- Aunt Karen and Uncle Neal
- Auntie Pam
- Aunt Kiera and Uncle Brad
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
The Editor Goes to Class
Well today was shaping up to be an easy, breezy day. As my 'Summer of Mike' winds to a close (well, maybe the 'Month of Mike'), I am enjoying every day. Too bad much of it is spent studying for boards.... But there is ample, ample time to surf the Internet.
Today was just like all the previous. Woke up early. Did some reading. Talked to the contractors. Listened to grinding in the basement. Took my midday nap. Went to the grocery store and got a sub. I looked at the rest of my schedule on my phone. (Yes, I have a schedule!)
To my surprise, there was something on it that I forgot: Pediatric Class. (Editors Note: It seems recently that there has been much much debate between the GC and I as to certain things. She says I forget too much, I think she never tells me stuff. This goes on and on and on. She's about 75% right. Today, she was in that 75%).
Damn! Well, at least we'll do it together. Oh wait, during the GC's lunchhour today, she called. "Sorry babe, I have to admit patients late tonight. You'll have to go alone." Um... er... um... Don't you think it'll be weird if I show up without a mom-to-be. "No. DO IT!"
Double Damn!!! So, what is Pediatric Class, you might wonder? Well, it turns out that you have to search for pediatricians before your pop out a BY. Seriously. I just thought it was different. I figured that all the peds were waiting on call, and whoever was next on deck when you popped, got your baby. Turns out that is not so; not in this modern medicine day and age. So, the GC's OB gave her a list of peds to call. The GC, being the extremely wise woman that she is, searched for the closest office. Perfect! There was one across the street from the hospital and the OB. This place only takes new patients as newborns, and you have to do this class first. Ergo, the Editor was nominated to secure the BY's future pediatrician. Since I wasn't working, or winning the bread, I had no excuse. Damn!
So I get there and walk in. A nice, bubbly dude was there greeting people as they walked in. Nice looking guy. Young. Had a mop for a head of hair, and looked younger than I. Hmmm... I don't know about this.
"Hey I'm Dr Edwards." Hi, I'm Dr Yarnoz! (Editors Note: Sometimes I get into these funks where I don't like it when people introduce themselves as Doctor. It kinda gets annoying. As one who has been through training for 7 years, you see these types. They're usually the interns, who are so excited to be doctors. They page you and answer, this is Dr Smith! I hate it. But then I realized that he didn't know I was a doctor; I left my lab coat at home. So I forgave him.)
"Hey, I'm Mike."
"Where's your wife?"
"Oh, she's workin'. Makin me some money!!" Some other pregnant ladies looked over aghast. Hey, ladies! You can support the Editor too.
"OK. Well, Dad's take care of kids too. Have a seat."
He damn puts me right in front. I hate being in front. Damn the GC!!! So we wait until all the other golfcarts waddle in. Man there were many different shapes and sizes. One poor golfcart looked like she was like 5 weeks past due... every movement brought cringes of pain to her face. Damn. Finally, all the carts are seated now. 17 prospectives! Wow. Supposedly this class was to last from 5:30 until 6:30. Somehow I didn't see that happening. Damn, damn the GC!!!
So the mop-doc starts talking. Pretty nice guy. Good speaker and pretty well read. About 5 mins into his talk, he mentions where the bathrooms were. About 3 golfcarts jumped up, and waddled away. I chuckled. Ahhh! For the remainder of the talk, roughly 1 golfcart had to pee almost every 10 minutes. That seemed about right. One poor lady went like 6 times. Wow!
So the class is going on. Yada yada yada. The mop-doc then made the mistake of saying that if anyone had questions, to please ask away. Uh Oh.... this aint going to be an hour. We talked about a lot of stuff. Peeing, pooping, sleeping, eating, vaccines.... Questions peppered the discussion. Some good... others... well....
"Can my baby sleep on that little changing pad off the side of the pack-n-play?" Seriously. I don't remember what this looked like, but seems really small. "No. There are too small, and the baby could roll over." Whew! Crisis averted.
"Can my baby get cancer from vaccinations?" What?!?!?! er... WHAT!?!?! I tried to see who asked that one, but then realized that my turning around a complete 180 degrees with this look of disgust on my face would have been too much. Mop-doc took it in stride... "No. They can't."
Now, invariably in every little discussion or classroom session or lecture, there is always one person who thinks that this is their own private discussion. You, loyal BY viewers, must know what I am talking about. These people have no deference to the other listeners. They feel like the instructor is there for them only, and then they just ask question after question after question. Some questions so freakin specific that they should be asked after the group session is over, to spare the other poor souls. They keep yammering on, even with mean stares from the other attendees. Well, this session had 2 of these people. Yes, it did!
Annoying questioner #1: (The original reason for this rant.) She started going off about vaccines and standard of care. She asked about Jenny McCarthy and autism and vaccines. This was, actually, a good question. I saw an episode of Eli Stone once that dealt with this issue, so I thought it was true. Turns out, according to mop-doc, it is absolutely false. Whew! Good man that mop-doc. But the lady didn't end there. More questions pelted the mop-doc. "Are you sure?" "What about other diseases?" "What are the standards of care?" "What do you think about the WHO and their standards of care?" ... wa!? Whoa, lady! WTF!?!?! This shook me from a daydream about Jenny McCarthy. (Damn!) Seriously!?!?! I shot a laserbeam look over in her direction, partly because she took me away from JM and partly because of my prior rant. Seriously lady... (I look around the room) no one in this room knows what or who the WHO is? The only reason I do is because of the GC. I almost said something out loud, to try to cut this off at the pass. Well, maybe almost... I'm shy. Thankfully, the mop-doc was quick, and made the wonderful argument that vaccines save the world and that the WHO would love to vaccinate everyone, if they could afford it.
Annoying questioner #2: This lady was not even a parent. This was a freakin grandparent. She asked so many useless questions. "What about circumcisions? Cleaning? Caring? Transporting?" Jesus, lady shut it! Even made some comments. "In my day, they made us put babies on their stomachs!" Damn, woman, in your day bread cost a nickel, you walked uphill 5 miles to go to school, and formula was 10 cents. Pipe down. Thankfully, I think her daughter put a quick elbow to the gut to shut that one down.
This was dragging on forever. 7pm rolled around. I wanted to use the bathroom too, and then sneak out of the window. Finally, finally we were done. I bolted out of there quicker than Usain Bolt.... ok, maybe not that quick.
Whew! I survived. Actually, it was pretty good. The doc was really well spoken, young and very well read. Plus, his office is like 5 mins from the Green Machine.
Sounds like the BY's Pediatrician to me!!!
Today was just like all the previous. Woke up early. Did some reading. Talked to the contractors. Listened to grinding in the basement. Took my midday nap. Went to the grocery store and got a sub. I looked at the rest of my schedule on my phone. (Yes, I have a schedule!)
To my surprise, there was something on it that I forgot: Pediatric Class. (Editors Note: It seems recently that there has been much much debate between the GC and I as to certain things. She says I forget too much, I think she never tells me stuff. This goes on and on and on. She's about 75% right. Today, she was in that 75%).
Damn! Well, at least we'll do it together. Oh wait, during the GC's lunchhour today, she called. "Sorry babe, I have to admit patients late tonight. You'll have to go alone." Um... er... um... Don't you think it'll be weird if I show up without a mom-to-be. "No. DO IT!"
Double Damn!!! So, what is Pediatric Class, you might wonder? Well, it turns out that you have to search for pediatricians before your pop out a BY. Seriously. I just thought it was different. I figured that all the peds were waiting on call, and whoever was next on deck when you popped, got your baby. Turns out that is not so; not in this modern medicine day and age. So, the GC's OB gave her a list of peds to call. The GC, being the extremely wise woman that she is, searched for the closest office. Perfect! There was one across the street from the hospital and the OB. This place only takes new patients as newborns, and you have to do this class first. Ergo, the Editor was nominated to secure the BY's future pediatrician. Since I wasn't working, or winning the bread, I had no excuse. Damn!
So I get there and walk in. A nice, bubbly dude was there greeting people as they walked in. Nice looking guy. Young. Had a mop for a head of hair, and looked younger than I. Hmmm... I don't know about this.
"Hey I'm Dr Edwards." Hi, I'm Dr Yarnoz! (Editors Note: Sometimes I get into these funks where I don't like it when people introduce themselves as Doctor. It kinda gets annoying. As one who has been through training for 7 years, you see these types. They're usually the interns, who are so excited to be doctors. They page you and answer, this is Dr Smith! I hate it. But then I realized that he didn't know I was a doctor; I left my lab coat at home. So I forgave him.)
"Hey, I'm Mike."
"Where's your wife?"
"Oh, she's workin'. Makin me some money!!" Some other pregnant ladies looked over aghast. Hey, ladies! You can support the Editor too.
"OK. Well, Dad's take care of kids too. Have a seat."
He damn puts me right in front. I hate being in front. Damn the GC!!! So we wait until all the other golfcarts waddle in. Man there were many different shapes and sizes. One poor golfcart looked like she was like 5 weeks past due... every movement brought cringes of pain to her face. Damn. Finally, all the carts are seated now. 17 prospectives! Wow. Supposedly this class was to last from 5:30 until 6:30. Somehow I didn't see that happening. Damn, damn the GC!!!
So the mop-doc starts talking. Pretty nice guy. Good speaker and pretty well read. About 5 mins into his talk, he mentions where the bathrooms were. About 3 golfcarts jumped up, and waddled away. I chuckled. Ahhh! For the remainder of the talk, roughly 1 golfcart had to pee almost every 10 minutes. That seemed about right. One poor lady went like 6 times. Wow!
So the class is going on. Yada yada yada. The mop-doc then made the mistake of saying that if anyone had questions, to please ask away. Uh Oh.... this aint going to be an hour. We talked about a lot of stuff. Peeing, pooping, sleeping, eating, vaccines.... Questions peppered the discussion. Some good... others... well....
"Can my baby sleep on that little changing pad off the side of the pack-n-play?" Seriously. I don't remember what this looked like, but seems really small. "No. There are too small, and the baby could roll over." Whew! Crisis averted.
"Can my baby get cancer from vaccinations?" What?!?!?! er... WHAT!?!?! I tried to see who asked that one, but then realized that my turning around a complete 180 degrees with this look of disgust on my face would have been too much. Mop-doc took it in stride... "No. They can't."
Now, invariably in every little discussion or classroom session or lecture, there is always one person who thinks that this is their own private discussion. You, loyal BY viewers, must know what I am talking about. These people have no deference to the other listeners. They feel like the instructor is there for them only, and then they just ask question after question after question. Some questions so freakin specific that they should be asked after the group session is over, to spare the other poor souls. They keep yammering on, even with mean stares from the other attendees. Well, this session had 2 of these people. Yes, it did!
Annoying questioner #1: (The original reason for this rant.) She started going off about vaccines and standard of care. She asked about Jenny McCarthy and autism and vaccines. This was, actually, a good question. I saw an episode of Eli Stone once that dealt with this issue, so I thought it was true. Turns out, according to mop-doc, it is absolutely false. Whew! Good man that mop-doc. But the lady didn't end there. More questions pelted the mop-doc. "Are you sure?" "What about other diseases?" "What are the standards of care?" "What do you think about the WHO and their standards of care?" ... wa!? Whoa, lady! WTF!?!?! This shook me from a daydream about Jenny McCarthy. (Damn!) Seriously!?!?! I shot a laserbeam look over in her direction, partly because she took me away from JM and partly because of my prior rant. Seriously lady... (I look around the room) no one in this room knows what or who the WHO is? The only reason I do is because of the GC. I almost said something out loud, to try to cut this off at the pass. Well, maybe almost... I'm shy. Thankfully, the mop-doc was quick, and made the wonderful argument that vaccines save the world and that the WHO would love to vaccinate everyone, if they could afford it.
Annoying questioner #2: This lady was not even a parent. This was a freakin grandparent. She asked so many useless questions. "What about circumcisions? Cleaning? Caring? Transporting?" Jesus, lady shut it! Even made some comments. "In my day, they made us put babies on their stomachs!" Damn, woman, in your day bread cost a nickel, you walked uphill 5 miles to go to school, and formula was 10 cents. Pipe down. Thankfully, I think her daughter put a quick elbow to the gut to shut that one down.
This was dragging on forever. 7pm rolled around. I wanted to use the bathroom too, and then sneak out of the window. Finally, finally we were done. I bolted out of there quicker than Usain Bolt.... ok, maybe not that quick.
Whew! I survived. Actually, it was pretty good. The doc was really well spoken, young and very well read. Plus, his office is like 5 mins from the Green Machine.
Sounds like the BY's Pediatrician to me!!!
Monday, July 20, 2009
Guest Post #5: Birthday Wishes from the Third Trimester GC
When I read this blog sometimes I think that you loyal readers (I won't dare to call you "fans" as Mike's head is likely to explode) probably think that living here in the Green Machine renovation is just plainly no fun. Not true! We manage to have a great time here, when we aren't freaking out about everything there is to do with BY, the renovation struggles, paying for the renovation struggles, learning our way around, the new jobs... yep, it's just downright peachy really.
But yesterday was a special day around here: Mike's 33rd birthday. Frankly, with all the other stuff going on, there was no way that I was going to be able to pull off something extra special for him, especially since I had to work all day.
Now, poor Mike has been a pretty good trooper throughout this second half of the pregnancy. He gives back rubs when I need them, has been taking over the chores while I've hauled myself back to work, and even decided to dabble in home and office design. (Even bringing home wallpaper samples the other day!)
But the fact of the matter is that the third trimester is evolutionarily planned the same way as the first: to be painful.
The way I figure it, the first trimester is especially painful so that we women will remember that there's a little group of cells in there that needs our attention in order to develop properly. Since it's so small and doesn't move yet, the best it can do is make your GI track go in reverse and give you the general sensation of being run over by a train on a daily basis.
The second trimester heralds the beginning of the honeymoon period -- the nausea goes away right at the same time you lose your waist, so there's little chance you'll forget that there's a baby in there and smear Vitamin A all over your body or something. But in general you can eat again, move around without seasickness, and act like you are enjoying the beauty status of pregnancy. And sometimes you get to feel it moving around, which to some is sorta like a scene out of Alien but to others is comforting.
In fact, if I could have been suspended in like the 24th week of pregnancy, I would have been a-okay. I felt pretty awesome... for like 3 weeks. Not to mention that people start telling you that "your life is about to change" (Huh?? I sorta liked my life before!), and you have to start worrying about which car seat to choose, what kind of child care to pay through the nose for, where to send the kid to college, whether she's going to have tattoos or bellyrings, etc. Suddenly, it feels like it would be better for everyone involved if the baby would just stay in there forever. I mean, it's not too painful, you don't really need a waist anyway (I mean, it was convenient to hang my pager there, but I've adjusted to sticking it in my coat pocket), and it just seems like such a hassle after it comes out.
But then you get to the third trimester. I can't say I've had it all that badly so far, not having pedal edema, sciatica, hemorrhoids (yes, apparently it's common) or anything. But I'm freaking big. And I'm apparently pretty good a denial. I see other pregnant women all the time and think to myself: "Whoa, there's a pregnant belly." Meanwhile, people are saying the same thing about me!! (even Mike, making fun of me because only the top button of my white coat will stay closed... like a baby belly peep show every day at work.)
I have no concept of how big this thing is, trying all the time to unsuccessfully squeeze past a stretcher at work, only to embarrassingly have the baby get stuck between the foot of the bed and the elevator door. Or bumping accidentally into people's heads when I'm leaning over them to grab a chart. Not to mention the fact that I just move slowly. I used to zip around my 20 patients' rooms at warp speed. Now it's more like worm speed. I try not to waddle, but something has happened to my legs. My stomach has been rubbed by more people than a genie lamp.
Then there's the grunting. Apparently I'm doing it all the time, even in my sleep. I don't even realize it. Somewhere, my betrayed cells are screaming to get this thing out of there. Hopefully they aren't convincing enough to make it happen more than 8 days before my due date, which will be the last day of work before the 5 or 6 weeks off.
So, with all this going on, Mike's 33rd was bound to be a bust. The highlight was going to be a tour of the delivery unit at the hospital (see his blog...) I felt sorry for him, but after last year's apartment scavenger hunt, I just couldn't think of anything to make the day special while I was at work. Making him dinner is out because we still don't have a kitchen.
Luckily, Dad and Debbie sent Mike a gift certificate to a restaurant that we hadn't tried yet. So, in case you were worried about him, I did manage to poor three beers, calamari, crab cakes, and grilled salmon down his throat while enjoying the 80 degree weather on the river. It really was one of the best meals we've ever had, at just the right moment.
So, happy 33rd, Editor... just think of things this next year will bring you!!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
BY Fieldtrip!!
So, Mike, what did you do on your birthday?
Well, loyal BY Followers, I went on a BY Fieldtrip... to the New Hanover Regional Medical Center Betty H Cameron Center for Women and Children. Yes, we did!
Before anyone gets any wild ideas, this was a planned Fieldtrip, one coordinated by the GC and Jane (a head nurse at the NHRMC-BHCCWC.) (Editor's note: It seems that recently, since the GC has gone off to work, we have settled into certain roles. She's the breadwinner... and I'm... well, er.... the House Husband! I wake up in the morning, walk the dog, make the bed, tidy up, do the dishes in the bathroom sink. You know, all the daily chores! Then I might go out to run some errands: going to the bank, mailing something for the GC, picking up food. Maybe later I'll go to Bed, Bath n Beyond! I just don't know if there is enough time!!! ... Oh, I really need to start working soon. Pronto!)
So, back to the NHRMC-BHCCWC fieldtrip. I dutifully show up at 2pm to meet the GC. She's late (I guess my time isn't so valuable!!!) and then we call Jane. Jane comes down to meet us and take us on our tour. (Editor's Note: The NHRMC-BHCCWC is a new addition to the NHRMC. Supposedly the BHC is a very wealthy landowner in the area; the Cameron's dominate the Wilmington landscape. This building was recently completed to service and update the community. It is a very impressive, clean, modern building!)
We're walking through the triage area. Yada yada yada... Jane's yammering about some protocols about pre-birth and stuff.... blah blah blah... My only question: "We don't have to go through the ER, do we?" No. Great... Moving on.
Jane's moving, we're walking, she's blabbering. We enter a Birthing Suite (thankfully unoccupied. That would have been awfully interesting!!! Empuje!!!!). "Here's our suite. Over there you can see..."
A hottub!!! Sweet!!! I mean I knew this place was cool but alright!!! I rented a house with a hottub once. Granted, I was with two other dudes, but it was cool. I think I might have used it once. Greg and Jeff might have used it once or twice. Yes, we were 3 dudes with a hottub. Hmm. But this is great. I can sit in this thing with some bubble bath, a frosty Blue Moon, and enjoy the BY's birth. Yeah!! Get some pretzels! Maybe some popcorn... oh wait, chips and salsa!!!! Awesome. I think we'll have to move it to the other wall, you know. It sort of is facing the GC's south pole. Hmmm... not a great view for enjoying some brew in a hottub. I start walking toward this glistening piece of modern technology. Yes! Wait, where are the jacuzzi jets?!?! Headrest?!?!
..."Birthing tub" I hear Jane crackled through my bachelor-induced fog. What!?!?! er... pause... wheels ... turning.... Birthing... Tub...!?!? I then had an instantaneous picture of the GC in the tub, delivering the BY, and all the assorted other things (Flashback to OB... Empuje!!!) Then my whacked-out mind superimposed my image in the tub, drinking a beer.... Oh, God!!! I took like 4 steps back, away from the tub. Oh GOD!!! Shivers ran down the spine. I don't want to go in there! I felt like I needed a shower.
Cracked back to reality, I slowly focus in on Jane's speech. I see the bed... Supposedly it is a "labor AND delivery bed." Horrible horrible visions of my OB rotations started flooding back to me. I remember these, the end of the bed pulls off, and .... wha-la!!! Jane pulls out the stirrups, almost as if on cue. Gulp!!! I think I just churned up some gastric contents in my throat! I don't remember much about the stirrups, but supposedly these are new "comfort stirrups", per our guide. They didn't look all to comfortable. They were huge! And covered in light blue foam!! I guess they look comfortable.... but thank God I don't have to try them out. More flashbacks to OB... empuje senorita!!!
Jane shows us around the room. Pretty cool stuff, with some neat technology. She pulls out this remote control. "Let me show you this." The remote sort of looked like a tv remote, but it had a glass dome at the end. Sort of like a light bulb. It reminded me of something else, that I couldn't place. "This is to control the surgical lights." What! She starts waving and pressing the control. These ceiling lights come on, and start following the top portion of the remote. Oh, now I get it; it sort of looks like the vaginal US probe (seen much earlier in my life, unfortunately). Then as she waves the remote around, she places it in between the stirrups. The lights dutifully follow her. I had a vision of trying to use this contraption during labor... the OB swinging this dildo around violently trying to get the lights to look below the GC's equator. Oh God!! Once again, I swore to myself.... stay North, young man! Nothing to see in the Southern Territory!
Blah blah blah. Jane is still showing us around... and then we move on to the incubator/warmer. Uh oh. Reality is starting to set in. The GC appears to be taking it all in stride, I think. Then Jane shows us all the resuscitation equipment... little face masks, ET tubes. The GC goes: "Mikey, you have to look at how small these things are..." Er, not really. I'm cool with knowing that they exist, but really don't ever want to see them in action.
Then we're off to the 3rd floor; the Mother-Baby/Nursery center. I try to make eye contact with the GC, to see how she was handling this. Was she as freaked out as I? She seemed solid. Whew! That's my girl! She is, afterall, currently wearing the pants in this family.
We walk up to the Nursery. Nice circular room with many windows. Sort of like a fishbowl. Incubators abound! Reality was really starting to sink in! Yup, I'm having a BY! Oh boy...er I mean Oh girl! We see the rooms upstairs. They look the same, only smaller. No tub. I didn't think I could stomach another vision of that thing again.
We're done! Jane ushers us back to the elevator. We say goodbye, and the doors close. Quiet! Not a word was spoken. Only Muzak. Then, I saw her face, and knew!
Oh girl! We're really going to have a BY!
Empuje GC, Empuje!!!
Well, loyal BY Followers, I went on a BY Fieldtrip... to the New Hanover Regional Medical Center Betty H Cameron Center for Women and Children. Yes, we did!
Before anyone gets any wild ideas, this was a planned Fieldtrip, one coordinated by the GC and Jane (a head nurse at the NHRMC-BHCCWC.) (Editor's note: It seems that recently, since the GC has gone off to work, we have settled into certain roles. She's the breadwinner... and I'm... well, er.... the House Husband! I wake up in the morning, walk the dog, make the bed, tidy up, do the dishes in the bathroom sink. You know, all the daily chores! Then I might go out to run some errands: going to the bank, mailing something for the GC, picking up food. Maybe later I'll go to Bed, Bath n Beyond! I just don't know if there is enough time!!! ... Oh, I really need to start working soon. Pronto!)
So, back to the NHRMC-BHCCWC fieldtrip. I dutifully show up at 2pm to meet the GC. She's late (I guess my time isn't so valuable!!!) and then we call Jane. Jane comes down to meet us and take us on our tour. (Editor's Note: The NHRMC-BHCCWC is a new addition to the NHRMC. Supposedly the BHC is a very wealthy landowner in the area; the Cameron's dominate the Wilmington landscape. This building was recently completed to service and update the community. It is a very impressive, clean, modern building!)
We're walking through the triage area. Yada yada yada... Jane's yammering about some protocols about pre-birth and stuff.... blah blah blah... My only question: "We don't have to go through the ER, do we?" No. Great... Moving on.
Jane's moving, we're walking, she's blabbering. We enter a Birthing Suite (thankfully unoccupied. That would have been awfully interesting!!! Empuje!!!!). "Here's our suite. Over there you can see..."
A hottub!!! Sweet!!! I mean I knew this place was cool but alright!!! I rented a house with a hottub once. Granted, I was with two other dudes, but it was cool. I think I might have used it once. Greg and Jeff might have used it once or twice. Yes, we were 3 dudes with a hottub. Hmm. But this is great. I can sit in this thing with some bubble bath, a frosty Blue Moon, and enjoy the BY's birth. Yeah!! Get some pretzels! Maybe some popcorn... oh wait, chips and salsa!!!! Awesome. I think we'll have to move it to the other wall, you know. It sort of is facing the GC's south pole. Hmmm... not a great view for enjoying some brew in a hottub. I start walking toward this glistening piece of modern technology. Yes! Wait, where are the jacuzzi jets?!?! Headrest?!?!
..."Birthing tub" I hear Jane crackled through my bachelor-induced fog. What!?!?! er... pause... wheels ... turning.... Birthing... Tub...!?!? I then had an instantaneous picture of the GC in the tub, delivering the BY, and all the assorted other things (Flashback to OB... Empuje!!!) Then my whacked-out mind superimposed my image in the tub, drinking a beer.... Oh, God!!! I took like 4 steps back, away from the tub. Oh GOD!!! Shivers ran down the spine. I don't want to go in there! I felt like I needed a shower.
Cracked back to reality, I slowly focus in on Jane's speech. I see the bed... Supposedly it is a "labor AND delivery bed." Horrible horrible visions of my OB rotations started flooding back to me. I remember these, the end of the bed pulls off, and .... wha-la!!! Jane pulls out the stirrups, almost as if on cue. Gulp!!! I think I just churned up some gastric contents in my throat! I don't remember much about the stirrups, but supposedly these are new "comfort stirrups", per our guide. They didn't look all to comfortable. They were huge! And covered in light blue foam!! I guess they look comfortable.... but thank God I don't have to try them out. More flashbacks to OB... empuje senorita!!!
Jane shows us around the room. Pretty cool stuff, with some neat technology. She pulls out this remote control. "Let me show you this." The remote sort of looked like a tv remote, but it had a glass dome at the end. Sort of like a light bulb. It reminded me of something else, that I couldn't place. "This is to control the surgical lights." What! She starts waving and pressing the control. These ceiling lights come on, and start following the top portion of the remote. Oh, now I get it; it sort of looks like the vaginal US probe (seen much earlier in my life, unfortunately). Then as she waves the remote around, she places it in between the stirrups. The lights dutifully follow her. I had a vision of trying to use this contraption during labor... the OB swinging this dildo around violently trying to get the lights to look below the GC's equator. Oh God!! Once again, I swore to myself.... stay North, young man! Nothing to see in the Southern Territory!
Blah blah blah. Jane is still showing us around... and then we move on to the incubator/warmer. Uh oh. Reality is starting to set in. The GC appears to be taking it all in stride, I think. Then Jane shows us all the resuscitation equipment... little face masks, ET tubes. The GC goes: "Mikey, you have to look at how small these things are..." Er, not really. I'm cool with knowing that they exist, but really don't ever want to see them in action.
Then we're off to the 3rd floor; the Mother-Baby/Nursery center. I try to make eye contact with the GC, to see how she was handling this. Was she as freaked out as I? She seemed solid. Whew! That's my girl! She is, afterall, currently wearing the pants in this family.
We walk up to the Nursery. Nice circular room with many windows. Sort of like a fishbowl. Incubators abound! Reality was really starting to sink in! Yup, I'm having a BY! Oh boy...er I mean Oh girl! We see the rooms upstairs. They look the same, only smaller. No tub. I didn't think I could stomach another vision of that thing again.
We're done! Jane ushers us back to the elevator. We say goodbye, and the doors close. Quiet! Not a word was spoken. Only Muzak. Then, I saw her face, and knew!
Oh girl! We're really going to have a BY!
Empuje GC, Empuje!!!
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Green Machine Mid-Reno
This is what the kitchen in the GM used to look like. We decided to keep the basic layout, except move the cooktop from the island to the back wall, where the kosher sink used to be. (Yup.) The vinyl floors and white laminate counters had to go though. The cabinets were in pretty good shape but needed a little overhaul.
Living in the mess.... this used to be like luxury camping but is now starting to get to the GC, who hates things to be out of place. As of now, pretty much nothing is in its place... the stuff that should be in the game room is in the living room, the living room has a mini-kitchen and two dining tables, the dining room has the refrigerator and some of the appliances...
Monday.... not a lot different in the kitchen. The cabinet refinishers are supposed to be working to strip and lightly sand, then reglaze the cabinets. The last step is just putting the doors and drawers back, which are already done at the shop.
Tuesday... almost the exact same. Actually, the space for the convection/microwave oven was made, and the cabinets have been stripped and sanded.
Wednesday... ahh... quartz countertops! We thought this meant we'd have appliances by the end of the week... but no dice.
Thursday.... nothing happened. This is a gratuitous photo of our overmount-turned-undermount sink from 1966. In the end, the electrical inspector gave us the thumbs up, but the cabinet guys decided to push us off until next week.
Friday... the drywall guys are busy patching and preparing the walls. The hole between the dining room and kitchen got a little smaller, and the bar is installed. But no appliances!! Have to wait until the cabinets are finished first.
The dining room with the bar/pass-through. More quartz will sit on top of it. The other side of the room houses our cardboard jungle. We can't wait to be rid of cardboard!!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
We're Under 50!!!
Whew!!!
Well, how are we celebrating this? The GC is off to work. (Somebody has to! I mean, how are we going to pay for all this!!?!?) I haven't heard from her yet, so I do not know how it is going.
As for my end, I am left at the Green Machine. I am in charge!! (Uh-oh!) This, unknowingly, has put a tremendous strain on my psyche and innards. I cannot leave the house! Not for fear of missing an important decision or to keep the Killerdog at bay. Also, with all these noxious chemicals around, I worry about ol' Ham's safety. I am extremely important to this process!
Yes, I am!!
(Editor's note: My one shining moment of glory came yesterday when the electricians asked me for placement of light switches. I don't remember where the GC was. But I froze... thought about the options... and then made a decision. See, that wasn't bad....
Thankfully, the contractor arrived 5 mins later.... and corrected my earth-shattering decision... I was wrong... Problem solved.)
(Editor's note 2: Right at this moment, Ham is sprawled out on the living room carpet snoozing. At one moment earlier he let out a dream-bark. I think he was hunting cats in his sleep!)
So, as you can see, I am extremely important to this renovation process! I will soldier on here at the Green Machine, stamping out renovation errors and defending the territory, all for the arrival of one Baby Yarnoz!
Hmmm, where's the GC?
Well, how are we celebrating this? The GC is off to work. (Somebody has to! I mean, how are we going to pay for all this!!?!?) I haven't heard from her yet, so I do not know how it is going.
As for my end, I am left at the Green Machine. I am in charge!! (Uh-oh!) This, unknowingly, has put a tremendous strain on my psyche and innards. I cannot leave the house! Not for fear of missing an important decision or to keep the Killerdog at bay. Also, with all these noxious chemicals around, I worry about ol' Ham's safety. I am extremely important to this process!
Yes, I am!!
(Editor's note: My one shining moment of glory came yesterday when the electricians asked me for placement of light switches. I don't remember where the GC was. But I froze... thought about the options... and then made a decision. See, that wasn't bad....
Thankfully, the contractor arrived 5 mins later.... and corrected my earth-shattering decision... I was wrong... Problem solved.)
(Editor's note 2: Right at this moment, Ham is sprawled out on the living room carpet snoozing. At one moment earlier he let out a dream-bark. I think he was hunting cats in his sleep!)
So, as you can see, I am extremely important to this renovation process! I will soldier on here at the Green Machine, stamping out renovation errors and defending the territory, all for the arrival of one Baby Yarnoz!
Hmmm, where's the GC?
Monday, July 13, 2009
Oh, the Laugh!!!
One of the reasons that I have truly gotten a kick out of doing this blog is the Laugh. I originally set out to post ultrasound videos that had gotten too big to email to family. Then it morphed into telling funny stories about Charmaine and the pregnancy. This, somehow, turned into more antics centering around me. (How does this stuff happen to me?!?!?!) Overall my main focus has been to try to keep the GolfCart's spirits up amongst all the back pain, GI distress (upper, people!), and the dwindling amounts of urine her bladder can contain. But what I have noticed recently is that, after every post, I want the GC to read it. Not later, not in a minute, right now- while its fresh off the press. I want to see her laugh... But I don't want her happy per se (I mean I do but), I want to see the actual laugh!
Now this is no ordinary laugh. This is no short snicker or a timely guffaw. No ha ha. This is a laugh that would make Ol' Saint Nick proud! A full out belly roll!!! I have been studying its origin for some time now, trying to figure our what makes it tick. The subtle nuances. This is what I have discovered:
I think it starts somewhere in her extremities. Her ankles start to kick inward, which then transmits motion up the thighs. The arms start to get in the act as well. I think this is a ploy to try to build momentum to move the GC. Then, once the point of no return is met, once Newton is satisfied, it happens!!! The belly starts to wiggle and shimmy... jitter and bounce... Then, once it gains momentum, its off ... Everywhere!! It is uncontrollable!!! I mean, you can see this movement through clothes, through windows, through tables!!! It's astounding!!! In fact, NASA called the other day, they could see it from the Space Shuttle! It sometimes even shakes "like a bowl full of jelly!!" (This is the point where I envision the BY inside laughing as well.) Truly an amazing site to behold!! Beautiful.
This is my goal; what makes this thing tick; what I shoot for with the blog. I have actually been about to hit it, especially with the Sears fiasco and Disability testing. I think she even cried during the Disability one. (She didn't pee though!!! Hmmm) It's like a drug.... I can't get enough.
Ahhhh!
Now this is no ordinary laugh. This is no short snicker or a timely guffaw. No ha ha. This is a laugh that would make Ol' Saint Nick proud! A full out belly roll!!! I have been studying its origin for some time now, trying to figure our what makes it tick. The subtle nuances. This is what I have discovered:
I think it starts somewhere in her extremities. Her ankles start to kick inward, which then transmits motion up the thighs. The arms start to get in the act as well. I think this is a ploy to try to build momentum to move the GC. Then, once the point of no return is met, once Newton is satisfied, it happens!!! The belly starts to wiggle and shimmy... jitter and bounce... Then, once it gains momentum, its off ... Everywhere!! It is uncontrollable!!! I mean, you can see this movement through clothes, through windows, through tables!!! It's astounding!!! In fact, NASA called the other day, they could see it from the Space Shuttle! It sometimes even shakes "like a bowl full of jelly!!" (This is the point where I envision the BY inside laughing as well.) Truly an amazing site to behold!! Beautiful.
This is my goal; what makes this thing tick; what I shoot for with the blog. I have actually been about to hit it, especially with the Sears fiasco and Disability testing. I think she even cried during the Disability one. (She didn't pee though!!! Hmmm) It's like a drug.... I can't get enough.
Ahhhh!
Oh Rainy Days!!
So this week is supposed to be big. Lots of stuff happenin'. The GC waddles off to work (somebody has to earn a living around here.) The kitchen gets some serious action. The ground floor gets redone with new concrete flooring. Ahhh we're so close.
I guess Ham (and Mother Nature) couldn't wait!
Earlier this AM (about 4am), Ham lets out a little whine. Damn. Seriously. (The last 2 days he's been up at 6, needing to go out. Seems his bladder can carry as much as the GC's recently. So last night I tried a preemptive strike. A late night mini-andar.) I guess the mini-andar didn't work.
So I dredge myself up, waddle downstairs (oh, I'm waddlin' now too... all this ice cream I'm eating!... seems that the GC's eyes are too big for her tank!) and take him out. He actually does his business very efficiently, and as we turn to go inside, I realize the real reason for his whimpers.... lightning!!!
Damn. Hopefully it was just heat lightning... then ... ka-boom... Thunder... Guess not!
I make it inside right before the skies open up. Torrential downpour, well equipped with thunder and lightning. (Editors note: It seems to rain here quite frequently, which is actually a good thing. One little quirk of the Green Machine is the lovely skylights. Very pretty with lots of daylight, and even some at night. Really makes the GC's late night potty breaks much easier. It sort of gives her night vision! Just what she needed. Now she is invincible!!! Unfortunately they also amplify the rain. It was kinda eery when we first heard it. We didn't know what it was, but quickly got used to it. Ham, on the other hand, hasn't.)
Somewhere in the poor dog's brain, a terrible fear of thunder was sewn. This also has grown to include lightning, because he has learned that it precedes the noise. Also, somewhere in his brain, is the idea that if he whines and barks really really loudly, it will all go away. Hmmmm, sort of childish... Uh OH!! So there we were, 4:30am, listening to the thunder and Ham. We tried everything, petting, laying next to him, even the chew bone. Now the chew bone has worked on some occasions, basically pacifying him. But this in itself creates another evil noise. We couldn't win.
5am.... still going. Whining, barking, chewing... yada yada yada... damn! Ham moves from my side of the bed to the GC's side for comfort. and then back again. The GC is trying to help too.... "Oops, you woke the baby!" and then "Oh, I have to pee!!!" Clockwork. Ham followed her into the bathroom. What was he going to do in there? Wipe? A loud thunderclap drove him back into the bedroom.
5:20am ... still going... Do you think I can give him some benadryl? "No way!!!" The GC cries. "You don't know how it will effect him." Come on, he's 75lbs. It'll effect him just fine. "N-O!!!" I secretly plot to sneak into the bathroom for some Tylenol PM...
5:45am.... still going... with no sign of stopping.... Damn! The GC has to go into work today. Alas... She says, "Why don't you take him into the closet, and shut the door?" Hmmm... never tried that one before. I'll give it anything shot.
I get up and waddle into the closet. Ham dutifully follows. I grabbed his blanket and through it on the floor. I also grabbed a blue throw pillow for my head. I lay down, and close the door. More whining. Finally I get him to lay down. He calms down some too. Man, these new floors are nice! Not very comfortable though.
I nap for about an hour until I hear the alarm clock blaring in the distance. Surely the GC will turn it off. 5 mins later... nope. Damn... well I'm up now. Waddle over the alarm and shut it off. "what time is it?" she mumbles. Gee, I don't know... maybe the time you set the alarm for!!!
And that concludes a lovely evening. This is probably some test or future glimpse of my life. or the end of my life as I know it.
Humpf!
Addendum
Electricians are banging and drilling ferociously. Concrete men are scraping, hammering, yammering, and beating the vinyl slowly back. My little computer is using Pandora to belt out some tunes.
And ol' Hamilton is passed out on his doggie bed.... sprawled out to his little hearts content. snoring away.... with occasional dreams of chasing cats.
Damn!!!
I guess Ham (and Mother Nature) couldn't wait!
Earlier this AM (about 4am), Ham lets out a little whine. Damn. Seriously. (The last 2 days he's been up at 6, needing to go out. Seems his bladder can carry as much as the GC's recently. So last night I tried a preemptive strike. A late night mini-andar.) I guess the mini-andar didn't work.
So I dredge myself up, waddle downstairs (oh, I'm waddlin' now too... all this ice cream I'm eating!... seems that the GC's eyes are too big for her tank!) and take him out. He actually does his business very efficiently, and as we turn to go inside, I realize the real reason for his whimpers.... lightning!!!
Damn. Hopefully it was just heat lightning... then ... ka-boom... Thunder... Guess not!
I make it inside right before the skies open up. Torrential downpour, well equipped with thunder and lightning. (Editors note: It seems to rain here quite frequently, which is actually a good thing. One little quirk of the Green Machine is the lovely skylights. Very pretty with lots of daylight, and even some at night. Really makes the GC's late night potty breaks much easier. It sort of gives her night vision! Just what she needed. Now she is invincible!!! Unfortunately they also amplify the rain. It was kinda eery when we first heard it. We didn't know what it was, but quickly got used to it. Ham, on the other hand, hasn't.)
Somewhere in the poor dog's brain, a terrible fear of thunder was sewn. This also has grown to include lightning, because he has learned that it precedes the noise. Also, somewhere in his brain, is the idea that if he whines and barks really really loudly, it will all go away. Hmmmm, sort of childish... Uh OH!! So there we were, 4:30am, listening to the thunder and Ham. We tried everything, petting, laying next to him, even the chew bone. Now the chew bone has worked on some occasions, basically pacifying him. But this in itself creates another evil noise. We couldn't win.
5am.... still going. Whining, barking, chewing... yada yada yada... damn! Ham moves from my side of the bed to the GC's side for comfort. and then back again. The GC is trying to help too.... "Oops, you woke the baby!" and then "Oh, I have to pee!!!" Clockwork. Ham followed her into the bathroom. What was he going to do in there? Wipe? A loud thunderclap drove him back into the bedroom.
5:20am ... still going... Do you think I can give him some benadryl? "No way!!!" The GC cries. "You don't know how it will effect him." Come on, he's 75lbs. It'll effect him just fine. "N-O!!!" I secretly plot to sneak into the bathroom for some Tylenol PM...
5:45am.... still going... with no sign of stopping.... Damn! The GC has to go into work today. Alas... She says, "Why don't you take him into the closet, and shut the door?" Hmmm... never tried that one before. I'll give it anything shot.
I get up and waddle into the closet. Ham dutifully follows. I grabbed his blanket and through it on the floor. I also grabbed a blue throw pillow for my head. I lay down, and close the door. More whining. Finally I get him to lay down. He calms down some too. Man, these new floors are nice! Not very comfortable though.
I nap for about an hour until I hear the alarm clock blaring in the distance. Surely the GC will turn it off. 5 mins later... nope. Damn... well I'm up now. Waddle over the alarm and shut it off. "what time is it?" she mumbles. Gee, I don't know... maybe the time you set the alarm for!!!
And that concludes a lovely evening. This is probably some test or future glimpse of my life. or the end of my life as I know it.
Humpf!
Addendum
Electricians are banging and drilling ferociously. Concrete men are scraping, hammering, yammering, and beating the vinyl slowly back. My little computer is using Pandora to belt out some tunes.
And ol' Hamilton is passed out on his doggie bed.... sprawled out to his little hearts content. snoring away.... with occasional dreams of chasing cats.
Damn!!!
Saturday, July 11, 2009
A BY Field Trip!!!
So today started like any other... wait, maybe not...
I was dreaming nicely. Snoozing away in my comfortable bed. The phone rings. Really!?!? (Editors note: One of the pains of having a home phone line is that now we get harrassed by everything. Leukemia society... Salvation Army... Labrador Society... the Salvation of Leukemic Labradors Society... blah blah blah. The Do Not Call List is not working yet.)
Who the hell is calling on a Saturday morning? Then I hear a familiar voice...
"Mikey... Mikey.... Wake up! Waaaakkkee Up and join your wife on the patio...." Damn her!! Now she is resorting to calling me.
"Wake up..." the message drones..."I have cooooffffeeee!...." That isn't going to do it... not alone.... "And bagels!" I was up in a flash. Yum yum.
"Everything and cinnamon raisin..." I peek my head out the window, and see my blushing bride... the GC in all her morning glory... on our new patio bench with the bagels.
"Hi!"
This might be a new low in the BY Universe. Resorting to the home phone and answering machine to wake me up. So over our lovely breakfast of bagels and diet pepsi (i like DP instead of coffee), she then lays our her plan. (Damn she's getting good at this...)
"Let's go to the beach!" Err.... um... eh? "Yeah. Let's go and relax. We're not going to do anything today anyway." Well maybe she was right. But I had to at least study some. So I compromised. Let me read for 2 hours and then we'll be off. She agreed.
Two hours later we were prepping to go. Ham got excited too. Sorry bud, no field trip for you. Just adults today. We gather our sun screen (the GC needs her SPF 1 million sun tint!), chairs, towels, and minicooler. Pack it up in the 4Runner, and we're off. We're cruisin' to Wrightsville Beach. We make it there in 15 minutes. Sweet!!! We're giddy as little girls! We crest the bridge to the island. Hooray!!!
Crapo!!! Traffic. Seems everyone and there cousin had the same plan as the GC. The beach trip comes to a screeching halt! Damn!!! I hate traffic. The GC says, "Argh... I'm sorry. You hate traffic."
I do. Hate traffic!!! Painful. This also means that parking is going to be horrendous. It was. I bypass the really long line, that wanted to go north on the island. I went south, thinking it would be faster. Nope.
We cruised the 2 mile southern tip. Circled the tip and around and back again. I think we went around like 3 times!! We even cruise through a small public parking lot that was more crowded beyond belief. I was about to bail out, when the GC says "Go back to the lot and sit there." Er, what do you mean? "That's the only place that looks like it is moving. So find a row and hover until someone leaves." Yes ma'am!
So we go back, and I find the back row. Nobody was leaving. I just turn the corner and post the 4Runner into hover position. Ready, boss! "Good now wait!!!" Wait we did. Cars kept driving past us, giving us the mal-de-ojo, but we didn't budge. We were going to the beach dammit! But after 30 or so minutes, I was breaking. I was just about to put the car in drive and beat it out of there, when some middle aged women pops out of nowhere next to a SUV. Right in front of us. The GC and I saw this lady at the same time. We both punched the GC's window button... "Are you leaving?" Yes, but in a minute. "Ok, we're patient."
Damn it took her for-ever to pack her car. The GC wondered out loud why she needed such a big car. We found out... oh yes we did! Seems we were watching a family of 4 womens. Grandmother, daughter, sister, and young kid. They all lost the pregnant-not pregnant game. Whew they were large and in charge. So we waited for them to pack and unpack their SUV. Oh, come on already! Let's get a move on her, we're losing daylight!!! Finally, they're packed. The lady pushed the auto button and the hitch closes. (Editors note: why is this button there? I can see it if your hands were full and couldn't close it. But damn, I think we're getting lazy. She could have closed it on her own. It would've been quicker.) The hitch lowers, but then it goes back up. WTF!?!?!? Why!?!?!? WHY ME!?!?! Oh gosh. It lowers down again, and then goes back up. Damn. I see the reason why. The lady's wallet is on the back bumper, impeding our progress. Damn damn damn. I have the GC get out of the car and remediate the situation! Whew!!! We finally pull into the spot. Whew!!! Only 1:30 later than when we left the house!
Woohoo!! We're back on track. The GC and I waddle on the sand out to nice spot, amongst all the other revelers. Ahhhh!!! We nestle down and settle in. Finally. Ahhh, the n
ice breeze off the water is relaxing. We dine on our lovely lunch of a turkey sub, taking in the sites. We pose for pictures. Damn we're tourists yet!!!
ice breeze off the water is relaxing. We dine on our lovely lunch of a turkey sub, taking in the sites. We pose for pictures. Damn we're tourists yet!!!So finally it is time for us to head out to the water. (This is after properly waiting 30 minutes to avoid cramping.) We waddle out to the waves. I'm holding the GC for support, not knowing if she'd be seaworthy. We start to shuffle in the tide. Oh, it seems a little cold. Then we get farther out, and start seeing the waves. These are no kiddie pool waves. The GC pushes me ahead. Wait, shouldn't you break the waves? You're more aerodynamic!!! "No, you go." So I dredge forward, protecting my wife and progeny against the tides. It was tough going, but we finally got settled in a nice spot. Lovely. We lounged, floated, dodged waves. It was lovely. And the GC floats!!! She was seaworthy afterall. Then, I had a vision of the BY inside the GC doing some swimming of her own!! I wonder it she could tell that she was not under the influence of gravity.
We get out and go back in to our beach nest. Then the GC plops down on the towel. "Humpf! I can't lay on my belly anymore!" Then we both come up with the same idea instantly. We'll dig a hole! A special parking for the GC! A hole in one! I diligently scoop out some sand, and wah-la!!!. A parking made for a queen. I move the beach towel over, and presto. She sidles up and lays down oh-so-elegantly in the spot. "Ahhh.... perfect!!!"
The rest of the day was spent comfortably in the shade. Enjoying a lovely day in the NC sunshine, BY-Style!!!
Thursday, July 09, 2009
BY Updates
I just realized that the loyal BY Fans might want some updates to the random stuff that I throw out there. I guess I just drop stuff and forget to come back. Hmmm..
Anyways:
1. Sears apparently has come through with the appliances. Although we haven't turned them on yet. Or, for that matter, we haven't gotten the bill. Hmmm, maybe this update came too soon.
2. I did get a newly issued paycheck from the Baptist the other day. Whew! That baby was signed, sealed, and deposited in about 10 minutes from arrival.
3. The ring finger lesion/blister is healing nicely. Sometimes I get random flashbacks of searing pain, but I soldier on.
4. The GM reno is still progressing. The electricians have done most of their hardwiring for Maine's kitchen. Just waiting. Next week is going to be a big week.
5. Ham has slept in almost every possible spot in the GM... er... wait... Oh, now he's slept in every spot. He has definitely settled in. He even jumps off into the woods to do his business!
6. The jungle yard is slowly getting under control. Yesterday I found myself shimmied on top of one of our brick walls. Much to the chagrin of the GC. Yet, somehow after I got up there, she put me to use.
7. Our next door neighbors got a job (yeah!), but are still selling their house.
That's if, for now.
Anyways:
1. Sears apparently has come through with the appliances. Although we haven't turned them on yet. Or, for that matter, we haven't gotten the bill. Hmmm, maybe this update came too soon.
2. I did get a newly issued paycheck from the Baptist the other day. Whew! That baby was signed, sealed, and deposited in about 10 minutes from arrival.
3. The ring finger lesion/blister is healing nicely. Sometimes I get random flashbacks of searing pain, but I soldier on.
4. The GM reno is still progressing. The electricians have done most of their hardwiring for Maine's kitchen. Just waiting. Next week is going to be a big week.
5. Ham has slept in almost every possible spot in the GM... er... wait... Oh, now he's slept in every spot. He has definitely settled in. He even jumps off into the woods to do his business!
6. The jungle yard is slowly getting under control. Yesterday I found myself shimmied on top of one of our brick walls. Much to the chagrin of the GC. Yet, somehow after I got up there, she put me to use.
7. Our next door neighbors got a job (yeah!), but are still selling their house.
That's if, for now.
A Visit to The Daycare!
Well, the day is not over in the BY Universe. Oh NO!!
I forgot to mention that after the OB appointment, we were scheduled to visit a daycare. So after revitalizing ourselves with some Java, we move forth.
Back to the GC Hybrid!!! Woosh!!! We're off again, moving at green speeds!!!!
We pass the hospital, and turn down the next street. Definitely a plus: so close to our work. And look! it's right next to my office. Hmmm I see that the GC has slyly planned this one. As she sheds her duties as the GC, it looks as if I will become the Driver!!!
As we drive down the road, we see a lady pushing a wagon... sort of looked like a grocery cart made of wood. It had 3 rows, with 2 kids in each row. They were piddling down the sidewalk. Now that's a Golf Cart!!! We were getting close.
We pull into the parking lot and get out. Looks nice from the outside. We go up to the door. Locked. We have to be let in. Nice security. Mikey likey.
We are let in by the head lady, I forgot her name (go figure!). She says that she'll tour us but she has to pee. Hmmm.... Is she preggos too? I've heard it's going around! So we're standing in the foyer, looking around. The walls are decorated in kids drawings. Supposedly of their teachers. Hmmm.... I don't think even Dali could see a teacher in some of these works. But we are musing silently amongst the pics. I am thinking to myself: Damn, we're going to have something that does this?!?!?! I look over at the GC. Her face tells me she's thinking the same thing.
The lady's back... "Let me show you the nursery." She starts yammering about stuff. Really nice place. They have a nursing room. Yum! Cubby holes for car seats! Seems logical. Then we're in the nursery! Wow! Two large open rooms separated by a central changing/cleaning area. One sides is Rm 1 and other is Rm 2. It was so quiet. Was anybody home? The GC and I see the cribs, lining the walls, 8 in each room. Two "teachers" per room. We peak in on the babies. Awww.... So quiet.
Then the lady starts off yammering again about a whole bunch of stuff. Feeding schedules... sleeping schedules... sign in... sign out... Uh oh... My head is starting to spin. There is even a daily report card that we fill out, saying if the BY had a good night, bad night... yada yada yada. Damn, I thought you just drop off the kid and go about your business! They even have lesson plans! Seriously!!! I mean, come on! What is a 6 week old's lesson? Oh, I've got one: How not to crap on Daddy while changing your diaper? Nope not on the list. How about "sleeping through the night"? Nope, not there either.... Humpf. Anyway, this BY is going to be a genius! No need for athleticism anymore!
Then the shear gravity of everything hit me. Feeding, sleeping, diapers, crapping, peeing, sleeping... So much responsibility! Whew! I looked over at the GC. Her face told me she was thinking the exact same thing. We were mute.
I think the lady was still yammering on about the different rooms. Moving up from one level to the next as the baby ages/progresses. Sounded awesome, if we weren't so freaked right about now.
Then we move back into the foyer. At this time a gaggle of 3-5 year olds were drudging back from the pool. All chirping and yammering repeatedly about how they jumped off the blocks! Oh, god! We're going to have one of those! Except I saw a 4 year old with a bikini on. Hell no!!! Not for the BY!!! One piece all the way! Skirt too. Old school bathing. Maybe even some leggings to boot! I have to quell the urge to show skin at an early age.
The other sobering thing from our visit was the fact that we 23rd or so on the wait list. But this place was great. So close and affordable, with what appears to be great stuff.
I am just hoping they develop the "Don't Pee on Daddy" lesson plan before we arrive.
I forgot to mention that after the OB appointment, we were scheduled to visit a daycare. So after revitalizing ourselves with some Java, we move forth.
Back to the GC Hybrid!!! Woosh!!! We're off again, moving at green speeds!!!!
We pass the hospital, and turn down the next street. Definitely a plus: so close to our work. And look! it's right next to my office. Hmmm I see that the GC has slyly planned this one. As she sheds her duties as the GC, it looks as if I will become the Driver!!!
As we drive down the road, we see a lady pushing a wagon... sort of looked like a grocery cart made of wood. It had 3 rows, with 2 kids in each row. They were piddling down the sidewalk. Now that's a Golf Cart!!! We were getting close.
We pull into the parking lot and get out. Looks nice from the outside. We go up to the door. Locked. We have to be let in. Nice security. Mikey likey.
We are let in by the head lady, I forgot her name (go figure!). She says that she'll tour us but she has to pee. Hmmm.... Is she preggos too? I've heard it's going around! So we're standing in the foyer, looking around. The walls are decorated in kids drawings. Supposedly of their teachers. Hmmm.... I don't think even Dali could see a teacher in some of these works. But we are musing silently amongst the pics. I am thinking to myself: Damn, we're going to have something that does this?!?!?! I look over at the GC. Her face tells me she's thinking the same thing.
The lady's back... "Let me show you the nursery." She starts yammering about stuff. Really nice place. They have a nursing room. Yum! Cubby holes for car seats! Seems logical. Then we're in the nursery! Wow! Two large open rooms separated by a central changing/cleaning area. One sides is Rm 1 and other is Rm 2. It was so quiet. Was anybody home? The GC and I see the cribs, lining the walls, 8 in each room. Two "teachers" per room. We peak in on the babies. Awww.... So quiet.
Then the lady starts off yammering again about a whole bunch of stuff. Feeding schedules... sleeping schedules... sign in... sign out... Uh oh... My head is starting to spin. There is even a daily report card that we fill out, saying if the BY had a good night, bad night... yada yada yada. Damn, I thought you just drop off the kid and go about your business! They even have lesson plans! Seriously!!! I mean, come on! What is a 6 week old's lesson? Oh, I've got one: How not to crap on Daddy while changing your diaper? Nope not on the list. How about "sleeping through the night"? Nope, not there either.... Humpf. Anyway, this BY is going to be a genius! No need for athleticism anymore!
Then the shear gravity of everything hit me. Feeding, sleeping, diapers, crapping, peeing, sleeping... So much responsibility! Whew! I looked over at the GC. Her face told me she was thinking the exact same thing. We were mute.
I think the lady was still yammering on about the different rooms. Moving up from one level to the next as the baby ages/progresses. Sounded awesome, if we weren't so freaked right about now.
Then we move back into the foyer. At this time a gaggle of 3-5 year olds were drudging back from the pool. All chirping and yammering repeatedly about how they jumped off the blocks! Oh, god! We're going to have one of those! Except I saw a 4 year old with a bikini on. Hell no!!! Not for the BY!!! One piece all the way! Skirt too. Old school bathing. Maybe even some leggings to boot! I have to quell the urge to show skin at an early age.
The other sobering thing from our visit was the fact that we 23rd or so on the wait list. But this place was great. So close and affordable, with what appears to be great stuff.
I am just hoping they develop the "Don't Pee on Daddy" lesson plan before we arrive.
A Visit to the New OB, BY Style!!!
Well, today was a very eventful day for the BY Crew!
First on the Docket was a visit to the new OB. I say Docket, because this was all prepared and planned a couple of days ago. I supposedly was in on the planning, but I have forgotten. (Editors note: This is becoming a recurring theme for me as we progress in the BY Universe... I forget stuff. Sometimes, I even forget to blog! Oh ... my... Gawd!!!)
Anyways, we're up early, as usual. But this is due more now to having strange people in our house. We don't want to be seen in our skivies! Actually, the GC is up and piddling about, as I toss in the bed. Even Ham is up, usually to get his treat...
So the electricians arrive for some more electrical work in the kitchen. Damn, we want our kitchen ASAP!!! Man, it seems like a never ending story... Um... where was I? Oh yes, the OB
So I'm up now and ready to go. We hop in the GC Hybrid and whosh! we're off at the speed of green! We make it to the office in like 5 minutes. (Note: The Green Machine is right behind the hospital. Just a couple of random turns throughout our neighbor, over a couple of speed humps... hee,hee... and we're there)
We go in.
"Yes, I'm Charmaine Lewis here for an appointment." The lady looks approvingly at my glowing bride. "And who are you?" (At this moment, here in the waiting room amongst these other patients in their various levels of OB-dom, I paused. I could see their disapproving looks. Who was this schmuck? Why are they looking at me this way? Oh no! I didn't have my ring on!!! You see, one of the side effects of most recent battle with the dropsies is that my ring won't fit on my ring finger. Actually it won't fit on any finger! Hmm. So I've been having fun with it at our various levels of public display. Trying to pick up the chickies with my new-found bachelorhood! I'd turn and say, "Hey babe, what's your sign? Oh her, as I turn to the GC, she's my driver!" Yes, it was working perfectly.... until today!)
Who was I??? Now I realized why the looks. I was some dude who couldn't figure out how to use a jimmy, and got this poor beautiful girl preggos! I'm the idiot! She's not even legit! Damn, I thought. Backfire!
"I'm the husband!" I said proudly, puffing out the chest. Humpf, she says. "Have a seat over there."
So, we sit. and wait. and wait...
"Ms Lewis" Damn, they do think she's single. F!!! "Come with me."
I get up timidly. Do I go too?!?!? I sheepishly ask. "No," she says with a disapproving look, "she's going to the lab." Oh. I turn and sit back down. THE LAB!?!?!?!? I've been to the lab recently. Didn't turn out so well.... I get a little clammy in the seat. Uh oh!! Man, I couldn't be pregnant. I think I made a little piddle in the seat. The really old lady next to me leaned over... "I do that too". Thanks.
The GC comes back. I scan here arms for signs of battle. No gauze. Looks like she's coming back with all the holes she left with! Whew!!! I straighten up.
"You ok?" I ask. "Yes. They just wanted me to pee. I couldn't fill even a 1/4 of the cup." Seriously!?!? You're kidding?!?!? Now her bladder shuts down... when it matters the most! This BY's certainly not going to be a gamer. I was hoping the GC's genes would solidify our offspring. I had dreams of the BY being a pro-athlete... alas.
So we wait some more, and finally get called in. I'm allowed to come to, being the baby-daddy and all. We get into the exam room. Seems pretty nice. A little old.... the exam table was circa 1970s. And the stirrups were out. Oh GOD!!! Not the stirrups!!!! (er... I think their called footrests now... but damn!!!). The GC plops right on the exam table and waits. I couldn't sit still. Didn't know where to go. Should I sit here or there? Should I just stand? Man, I was a stammering idiot. The GC says, calmly, just come sit next to me. Ok.
Then the Dr comes in. Nice guy. Gray hair. Looks solid, but has a little limp. Hmmm, wonder why he has a hitch in the gitty-up. I didn't care. I only had one question: can you catch? As first he seemed a little cold, but then we gave him a little note from our other OB. (Note: Dr Pollard was a great dude. Saved the Maine's life. And shot the shit with me at 3 am about dogs and fishing. I don't fish, but at 3am after the hellacious events prior, I really wanted to. But really really great doc. This new guy was his Chief Resident.... so he comes highly recommended.) He then warmed up considerably. Great.
Then after about 5 mins, he goes "Time for the exam." Wait no more chit chat!?!? Really??? He goes right for the belly!! Whew!!! All the while I'm trying to gauge his hands. I think he can catch? The GC easily lays down. Like a pro! I guess she's used to this by now! yada yada yada... blah blah blah... Things look good. Doppler's the heart... Check. I still get goosebumps hearing that stuff, although the speed makes me think I can ablate it! We're done.
"Great." He says... "I think you'll have to come back in a week or so. You have many MD's to meet." And he's off! What!?!?! Many MD's to meet?!?!?! Er... what do you mean??? Dude, you're the one. Then I realize the way modern medicine is... Humpf.
Can they catch?
So we paddle out to the check out line, and meet the devil incarnate: the checkout lady! I figured, as the babydaddy, I should sit off to the side. So most of this I hear off in the distance.
"So we have an appointment next Thurs at 10:15."
"Hmmm. That's my second day of work. I don't think I can miss that. Do you have something else?"
"Hmmm.... that's it." I think I see a pitchfork rising over the counter.
"Really?.." (Like they only see patients one day a week??)
"Maybe Thurs at 2."
"Umm... you see, that will still be my second day of work. Do you have something on another day?"
"Well you can see Dr. W again on Monday at 9:15..."
"Hmm... well, I think the whole point of this visit was for me to meet a different physician. Maybe you have someone else I could see?..."
This goes on and on for another 5 minutes. Steam is shooting out of both pairs of ears now. I considered interjecting some usefull babydaddy knowledge, but wisely thought against it. Plus, all my adrenaline had washed out of my body; the chair was really comfortable. I don't even hear how a compromise was reached, but somehow there was.
The GC ambles off, not looking back at the bee-yotch. But I do.... WOW!!! That lady was shooting laser beams!!! WOW!!! I wanted to come over the counter and throw the atomic elbow. I was ready. Time for the BabyDaddy to rise up and take ownership!!!
But I didn't want to make a scene. I didn't want the Po-Po to be involved, especially since I got my shiny new NC license. I would let her live another day.
I walk out with the GC, put my arm around her, and say "You want some coffee?"
"Yes. You read my mind."
Yes I did. In fact, I needed a large cup too.
First on the Docket was a visit to the new OB. I say Docket, because this was all prepared and planned a couple of days ago. I supposedly was in on the planning, but I have forgotten. (Editors note: This is becoming a recurring theme for me as we progress in the BY Universe... I forget stuff. Sometimes, I even forget to blog! Oh ... my... Gawd!!!)
Anyways, we're up early, as usual. But this is due more now to having strange people in our house. We don't want to be seen in our skivies! Actually, the GC is up and piddling about, as I toss in the bed. Even Ham is up, usually to get his treat...
So the electricians arrive for some more electrical work in the kitchen. Damn, we want our kitchen ASAP!!! Man, it seems like a never ending story... Um... where was I? Oh yes, the OB
So I'm up now and ready to go. We hop in the GC Hybrid and whosh! we're off at the speed of green! We make it to the office in like 5 minutes. (Note: The Green Machine is right behind the hospital. Just a couple of random turns throughout our neighbor, over a couple of speed humps... hee,hee... and we're there)
We go in.
"Yes, I'm Charmaine Lewis here for an appointment." The lady looks approvingly at my glowing bride. "And who are you?" (At this moment, here in the waiting room amongst these other patients in their various levels of OB-dom, I paused. I could see their disapproving looks. Who was this schmuck? Why are they looking at me this way? Oh no! I didn't have my ring on!!! You see, one of the side effects of most recent battle with the dropsies is that my ring won't fit on my ring finger. Actually it won't fit on any finger! Hmm. So I've been having fun with it at our various levels of public display. Trying to pick up the chickies with my new-found bachelorhood! I'd turn and say, "Hey babe, what's your sign? Oh her, as I turn to the GC, she's my driver!" Yes, it was working perfectly.... until today!)
Who was I??? Now I realized why the looks. I was some dude who couldn't figure out how to use a jimmy, and got this poor beautiful girl preggos! I'm the idiot! She's not even legit! Damn, I thought. Backfire!
"I'm the husband!" I said proudly, puffing out the chest. Humpf, she says. "Have a seat over there."
So, we sit. and wait. and wait...
"Ms Lewis" Damn, they do think she's single. F!!! "Come with me."
I get up timidly. Do I go too?!?!? I sheepishly ask. "No," she says with a disapproving look, "she's going to the lab." Oh. I turn and sit back down. THE LAB!?!?!?!? I've been to the lab recently. Didn't turn out so well.... I get a little clammy in the seat. Uh oh!! Man, I couldn't be pregnant. I think I made a little piddle in the seat. The really old lady next to me leaned over... "I do that too". Thanks.
The GC comes back. I scan here arms for signs of battle. No gauze. Looks like she's coming back with all the holes she left with! Whew!!! I straighten up.
"You ok?" I ask. "Yes. They just wanted me to pee. I couldn't fill even a 1/4 of the cup." Seriously!?!? You're kidding?!?!? Now her bladder shuts down... when it matters the most! This BY's certainly not going to be a gamer. I was hoping the GC's genes would solidify our offspring. I had dreams of the BY being a pro-athlete... alas.
So we wait some more, and finally get called in. I'm allowed to come to, being the baby-daddy and all. We get into the exam room. Seems pretty nice. A little old.... the exam table was circa 1970s. And the stirrups were out. Oh GOD!!! Not the stirrups!!!! (er... I think their called footrests now... but damn!!!). The GC plops right on the exam table and waits. I couldn't sit still. Didn't know where to go. Should I sit here or there? Should I just stand? Man, I was a stammering idiot. The GC says, calmly, just come sit next to me. Ok.
Then the Dr comes in. Nice guy. Gray hair. Looks solid, but has a little limp. Hmmm, wonder why he has a hitch in the gitty-up. I didn't care. I only had one question: can you catch? As first he seemed a little cold, but then we gave him a little note from our other OB. (Note: Dr Pollard was a great dude. Saved the Maine's life. And shot the shit with me at 3 am about dogs and fishing. I don't fish, but at 3am after the hellacious events prior, I really wanted to. But really really great doc. This new guy was his Chief Resident.... so he comes highly recommended.) He then warmed up considerably. Great.
Then after about 5 mins, he goes "Time for the exam." Wait no more chit chat!?!? Really??? He goes right for the belly!! Whew!!! All the while I'm trying to gauge his hands. I think he can catch? The GC easily lays down. Like a pro! I guess she's used to this by now! yada yada yada... blah blah blah... Things look good. Doppler's the heart... Check. I still get goosebumps hearing that stuff, although the speed makes me think I can ablate it! We're done.
"Great." He says... "I think you'll have to come back in a week or so. You have many MD's to meet." And he's off! What!?!?! Many MD's to meet?!?!?! Er... what do you mean??? Dude, you're the one. Then I realize the way modern medicine is... Humpf.
Can they catch?
So we paddle out to the check out line, and meet the devil incarnate: the checkout lady! I figured, as the babydaddy, I should sit off to the side. So most of this I hear off in the distance.
"So we have an appointment next Thurs at 10:15."
"Hmmm. That's my second day of work. I don't think I can miss that. Do you have something else?"
"Hmmm.... that's it." I think I see a pitchfork rising over the counter.
"Really?.." (Like they only see patients one day a week??)
"Maybe Thurs at 2."
"Umm... you see, that will still be my second day of work. Do you have something on another day?"
"Well you can see Dr. W again on Monday at 9:15..."
"Hmm... well, I think the whole point of this visit was for me to meet a different physician. Maybe you have someone else I could see?..."
This goes on and on for another 5 minutes. Steam is shooting out of both pairs of ears now. I considered interjecting some usefull babydaddy knowledge, but wisely thought against it. Plus, all my adrenaline had washed out of my body; the chair was really comfortable. I don't even hear how a compromise was reached, but somehow there was.
The GC ambles off, not looking back at the bee-yotch. But I do.... WOW!!! That lady was shooting laser beams!!! WOW!!! I wanted to come over the counter and throw the atomic elbow. I was ready. Time for the BabyDaddy to rise up and take ownership!!!
But I didn't want to make a scene. I didn't want the Po-Po to be involved, especially since I got my shiny new NC license. I would let her live another day.
I walk out with the GC, put my arm around her, and say "You want some coffee?"
"Yes. You read my mind."
Yes I did. In fact, I needed a large cup too.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Random Musings, by The Editor
So, since I had to pull a post from the mental archives, I realize that I have to come up with some new material. Nothing really totally eventful happened today... so I digress.
1. I love the GC's blog posts. I think they're a nice touch; definitely a game-changer from my sarcastic wit. I wish she would do more, but she says this is "my project."
2. Yesterday I got baby bumped! Entirely by accident. Thankfully I was sitting, or I would have been knocked over. Poor GC! Thank goodness this is under 2 months now.
3. The GC really is having to use her motor now. The other day she got into her car's passenger door like an elderly lady: opened the door, walked up to the opening, turned around facing outward, gingerly plopped down into the seat, lifted her legs from outside into the car's floorboards, and then closed the door. Man, that looks tough!
4. I know I have told her before that "If I could, I would carry this pregnancy." Trying to be all supportive. Although recently, the truth is I don't think I could. If God were to come into the Green Machine now and say "Michael, you can carry this BY for the rest of the term." I would go, "Ummm.... look at the time.... I have a thing... oh look, there's Jesus!!!" and then run in the other direction.
(Editors note: My Catholic guilt got to me. I did not, in any way, intend to blaspheme the Lord's name. It's just humor, Sir.)
5. The GC is amazing. I might poke some fun at her, but in my own way, I'm trying to keep her happy. This is only a temporary rental of her body.
6. I went to the DMV today. Not as painful as it sounds. Now I'm a legit NC citizen. I did get nervous next the Po-Po. I don't know why, but I'm a stammering idiot in front of the Law! Somehow I made it through.
7. One of the questions on the test was: "A recent survey found that the following drivers are more prone to accidents. A. Middle age drivers. B Female drivers. C. Slow drivers." I laughed out loud. I soooo wanted to put B.
8. The one bad thing is now my license photo is horrible. The FL one (yes I still had my license from florida) showed this strapping, hot sexy stud with hair. This NC one is from super close up. Damn it looks like I have a quadruple chin, extraordinary large forehead, and wrinkles like they're going out of style. This baby is never leaving the wallet.
9. It is funny. We have become a family of the internet. Take right now for instance. The GC is laying on the couch with her computer, looking at her favorite blog, occasionally mumbling something incoherent. While I am sitting at the corner table/office/dining room blogging away. The only thing active is Ham, who just moved from one spot on the tile to one closer to the door.
10. We are still trying to figure out all the quirks of the GM. Figuring out whic
h switch does what. All the little intricacies of an old house. For instance, we have this button over to the right. What the hell does it do? We have no idea. It is old school, with a little black ball that switches to red when you push it. Nothing happens. That we know of!! Any ideas?
h switch does what. All the little intricacies of an old house. For instance, we have this button over to the right. What the hell does it do? We have no idea. It is old school, with a little black ball that switches to red when you push it. Nothing happens. That we know of!! Any ideas?11. The old owners really had a thing about securing their stuff. There are locks everywhere. On the Passover Closet. (Yup) The secret closet in the closet. Bathroom drawers? Seriously who locks stuff in their bathroom drawers. A deadbolt to the entrance to the mancave, with its own alarm sensor. Really? Hmmm
12. Charmaine has a thing for saving old class notes. Yup. She does. Granted these are the neatest, most meticulous notes you will ever see. She cannot throw them away. I just opened another box of them. Seriously. Who wants to review Organic Chemistry? I might have to have an intervention. Maybe have to call Niecy Nash and Clean House. Wait, I'll post a picture.
13. We finished assembling the crib (another post for another time.) Whew! When we were done, we looked back. Oh Boy! This is really going to happen.
The GC Discovers Chick-Fil-A!!!
So one of the painful things that we have learned with a kitchen renovation is that you don't have a kitchen to eat in or use. Granted we have an outdoor fridge (that is now an indoor one) but still nothing to cook on. This is also magnified by the fact that the GC needs food every 6 hours. Period. End of discussion.
So we have partaken in as many different dining establishments that Wilmington has to offer; many of the fast food/cheap variety. One day last week, as we were running some errand (I forget which), the alarm clock in the GC's fuel tank went off. We needed fuel and fast! The nearest place, thankfully, was a Chick-Fil-A. Yum yum I thought to myself... waffle fries. The GC was drooling too. So we pulled in.
We get out of the car and go in. (I must have free refills at all times, so I always go in! Never drive thru.) We step in and I look at the menu, already knowing what I will choose. I turn to my loving wife.
"Babe, what do you want?"
She is in a downright full gawk at the menu... "Its like McDonald's" ... eyes widening... "But.... with..... CHICKEN!!!!"
"Yes dear"
"Wow" Chin is now hovering inches above the floor. "Everything in here is chicken"
"Yes dear. What do you want?" Looking around anxiously at the hungry people behind us, who also didn't look to enamoured with the GC's naivete.
"Um... " Her eyes were as big as saucers. She was being mesmerized by the neverending chicken options. "I... don't... know...."
"Seriously!" I kind of tilt my head to the side as I say this. "Seriously?" I was dumbfounded. Has this lady not lived in the US in the last 2 decades?
I told the hungry people behind us to cut in on us. Clearly my wife had just escaped the Pregnant Mental Institution and cannot decide what she wants to eat as her first meal. I almost left her there, but unfortunately I'm married to her.
She finally mumbles something like "combo .... #3" and then I hurry to the counter.
"Yes. I'd like a #1 and a #3 please" I scream, hoping that the GC wouldn't change her mind.
"Ooohh" I hear from behind me. I cringe. "They have diet lemonade."
"I'll have a coke zero and psycho preggo over there will have a diet lemonade."
"Ooohhhh...." I hear again... Oh GOD, what now?!?!?! "They serve breakfast."
"Yes, dear." Is she on drugs or something? I mean really. Who has never been to a Chick-Fil-A? This must be the BY, or maybe the hormones. God forbid.
"Ooohhh chicken biscuits!"
"Yes dear"
"Wait!!! Breakfast burritos!!!! I absolutely LOVE breakfast burritos."
I looked back again with a WTF look, but she was not looking at me. She was staring at the menu in some sort of non-red-meat-atarian crazed stare. Where was my wife and what had the BY done with her?
"Yes dear. We'll get burritos another time. Probably when its breakfast."
People were starting to really stare at the freak show by the time I gathered the meal. I ushered my still-entranced wife to a booth on the other side of the restaurant.
"Um... Maine..."
"Yes." Oh, I think she's back.
"What just happened?"
"Oh. I've never been in a Chick-Fil-A before."
There you go.
So we have partaken in as many different dining establishments that Wilmington has to offer; many of the fast food/cheap variety. One day last week, as we were running some errand (I forget which), the alarm clock in the GC's fuel tank went off. We needed fuel and fast! The nearest place, thankfully, was a Chick-Fil-A. Yum yum I thought to myself... waffle fries. The GC was drooling too. So we pulled in.
We get out of the car and go in. (I must have free refills at all times, so I always go in! Never drive thru.) We step in and I look at the menu, already knowing what I will choose. I turn to my loving wife.
"Babe, what do you want?"
She is in a downright full gawk at the menu... "Its like McDonald's" ... eyes widening... "But.... with..... CHICKEN!!!!"
"Yes dear"
"Wow" Chin is now hovering inches above the floor. "Everything in here is chicken"
"Yes dear. What do you want?" Looking around anxiously at the hungry people behind us, who also didn't look to enamoured with the GC's naivete.
"Um... " Her eyes were as big as saucers. She was being mesmerized by the neverending chicken options. "I... don't... know...."
"Seriously!" I kind of tilt my head to the side as I say this. "Seriously?" I was dumbfounded. Has this lady not lived in the US in the last 2 decades?
I told the hungry people behind us to cut in on us. Clearly my wife had just escaped the Pregnant Mental Institution and cannot decide what she wants to eat as her first meal. I almost left her there, but unfortunately I'm married to her.
She finally mumbles something like "combo .... #3" and then I hurry to the counter.
"Yes. I'd like a #1 and a #3 please" I scream, hoping that the GC wouldn't change her mind.
"Ooohh" I hear from behind me. I cringe. "They have diet lemonade."
"I'll have a coke zero and psycho preggo over there will have a diet lemonade."
"Ooohhhh...." I hear again... Oh GOD, what now?!?!?! "They serve breakfast."
"Yes, dear." Is she on drugs or something? I mean really. Who has never been to a Chick-Fil-A? This must be the BY, or maybe the hormones. God forbid.
"Ooohhh chicken biscuits!"
"Yes dear"
"Wait!!! Breakfast burritos!!!! I absolutely LOVE breakfast burritos."
I looked back again with a WTF look, but she was not looking at me. She was staring at the menu in some sort of non-red-meat-atarian crazed stare. Where was my wife and what had the BY done with her?
"Yes dear. We'll get burritos another time. Probably when its breakfast."
People were starting to really stare at the freak show by the time I gathered the meal. I ushered my still-entranced wife to a booth on the other side of the restaurant.
"Um... Maine..."
"Yes." Oh, I think she's back.
"What just happened?"
"Oh. I've never been in a Chick-Fil-A before."
There you go.
Guest blog #4: Mike's Obsession with Layaway
As you can tell, life around here is pretty eventful. Moving to a new city, starting a new job, and doing a remodel while 32 weeks pregnant is crazy. Apparently makes your husband a little crazy too. (Hey, he gets to take shots at me on this blog all the time!)
And yes, I'm super-motivated (we like to use the term "task-oriented" around here) to get everything done before I am unable to do anything but point and stammer. I figure I have another 4 weeks or so before I'm completely useless.
So, organizational ADD or not, we're making things happen. And by we I mean myself and BY, who is really the brains of the whole situation around here. The yard doesn't resemble the Amazon quite so much anymore (although needs a lot more work... ahem, Mom??), and the work-zone that is our house is starting to look like a home. Without a kitchen, that is.
So, you've all read the Sears entry (if you haven't that's a good one). And most of you know that Mike and I are really frugal people. If our bank accounts had met first, we would have been married long before our brains took three tries to get everything right. We just don't go into debt easily, so buying a house and then promptly throwing a ton of money into a flooring/kitchen remodel is sorta like stabbing rusty nails into our eyeballs... just really painful to think about.
And you know about the credit card issues I have... great credit (the mortgage lender said that Mike and I were like the super-couple of credit scores), but next-to-impossible to get a new credit card (that time at Sears they asked me for my phone number from medical school! That's just not fair!! How anyone successfully steals my identity when I don't even know my identity is ridiculous....) So, it's fallen on Mike to secure credit to pay for our new energy-efficient gadgets. This has led to Mike's discovery of the concept of "layaway."
For someone who has never been in debt like Mike, layaway is kinda perfect. I mean, in a month or two when he is gainfully employed, the immediate cash flow things will all work out. The first time he did it, at Sears, he walked away sorta confused. Then, last weekend, when I insisted (the baby and the back discomfort insisted, really) on a new mattress, we did it again, at Sears. That time Mike walked away with a huge smile on his face, screaming in the parking lot: "Let's put EVERYTHING on layaway!!" (Note to self: this is how credit problems start. Need to get Mike working asap.)
And lest we forget the point of this blog, we are, in fact, having a baby. I know that when you also simultaneously move to a new city, start new jobs, buy a new/old house, and embark on a remodel, the poor little BabyYarnoz gets lost in the shuffle. I mean, she tries all she can to remind us that she's really in there -- the 900 trips to the bathroom a day sorta helps. But to be honest, I can actually forget for a while what's to come. Thankfully, there's always a trip to the OB around the corner to remind me.
For you women, you may or may not remember trips to the OB. At your first visit, you don't actually see the doctor. Instead, you see a nurse who is paid a salary to tell pregnant women all day long what not to do:
And yes, I'm super-motivated (we like to use the term "task-oriented" around here) to get everything done before I am unable to do anything but point and stammer. I figure I have another 4 weeks or so before I'm completely useless.
So, organizational ADD or not, we're making things happen. And by we I mean myself and BY, who is really the brains of the whole situation around here. The yard doesn't resemble the Amazon quite so much anymore (although needs a lot more work... ahem, Mom??), and the work-zone that is our house is starting to look like a home. Without a kitchen, that is.
So, you've all read the Sears entry (if you haven't that's a good one). And most of you know that Mike and I are really frugal people. If our bank accounts had met first, we would have been married long before our brains took three tries to get everything right. We just don't go into debt easily, so buying a house and then promptly throwing a ton of money into a flooring/kitchen remodel is sorta like stabbing rusty nails into our eyeballs... just really painful to think about.
And you know about the credit card issues I have... great credit (the mortgage lender said that Mike and I were like the super-couple of credit scores), but next-to-impossible to get a new credit card (that time at Sears they asked me for my phone number from medical school! That's just not fair!! How anyone successfully steals my identity when I don't even know my identity is ridiculous....) So, it's fallen on Mike to secure credit to pay for our new energy-efficient gadgets. This has led to Mike's discovery of the concept of "layaway."
For someone who has never been in debt like Mike, layaway is kinda perfect. I mean, in a month or two when he is gainfully employed, the immediate cash flow things will all work out. The first time he did it, at Sears, he walked away sorta confused. Then, last weekend, when I insisted (the baby and the back discomfort insisted, really) on a new mattress, we did it again, at Sears. That time Mike walked away with a huge smile on his face, screaming in the parking lot: "Let's put EVERYTHING on layaway!!" (Note to self: this is how credit problems start. Need to get Mike working asap.)
And lest we forget the point of this blog, we are, in fact, having a baby. I know that when you also simultaneously move to a new city, start new jobs, buy a new/old house, and embark on a remodel, the poor little BabyYarnoz gets lost in the shuffle. I mean, she tries all she can to remind us that she's really in there -- the 900 trips to the bathroom a day sorta helps. But to be honest, I can actually forget for a while what's to come. Thankfully, there's always a trip to the OB around the corner to remind me.
For you women, you may or may not remember trips to the OB. At your first visit, you don't actually see the doctor. Instead, you see a nurse who is paid a salary to tell pregnant women all day long what not to do:
- No smoking, drinking alcohol/caffeine/juice/anything else remotely delicious
- No lifting more than 1 pound objects, laying on your back, abdominal crunches or really any other enjoyable forms of exercise, but make sure not to be a fat slob
- No working in the yard unless wearing three layers of clothing and thick gloves (umm... huh?)
- No eating of most cheeses that actually taste good (what in the world do pregnant women in France do???)
- No deli meats unless they've been heated to a crisp...
- No taking of many over the counter remedies that actually help your ailments...Blah blah blah...
I mean, the list is a mile long. Not to mention that I unfortunately know that most of this stuff does not have peer-reviewed data to support, and I get an email every week or so (thanks to the 2 years of MPH studies) telling me exactly when and where there are listeria outbreaks. Then there's all my pregnant OB friends who very cheerfully break ALL of these rules (I mean, it was Darlene who made me my first pregnancy latte at her baby shower a couple of months ago.)
(Back to the visit).... Seemingly several hours later, after admitting to doing nothing (well, I dazed off for a second and admitted to an "occasional" soda, prompting the nurse to first a scathing stare and then a firm scold... thankfully I didn't admit to the coffee drinking), they shipped me off to the "benefits" person.
So, rightfully scolded, I shuffle/waddle off to another office where a very unpleasant woman slaps two pieces of paper in front of me and begins not with a "Hello, how nice for you that you're expecting" and all that B.S. that people usually say to pregnant women:
"If you have a normal vaginal delivery, you will owe us $3900, and if you have to have a c-section, it will be $4400. This does NOT include anything you will owe to the hospital, pediatrician, anesthesiologist, lab tech, nursing staff, greeter, car parker, housekeeper, zookeeper, etc etc etc." (I mean, jeez, I get the point lady. This sh#%* is expensive.) "Now, your family deductible is a gazillion dollars," at which point I earn my second scathing stare when I mention that her source is incorrect, because I don't have a family plan and my third scathing stare by mentioning that in a week my health insurance will change to an entirely new plan.
Anyway, you get the point. Extremely unpleasant. Like being told you won a million dollars but you'll have to pay 2 million dollars to get it. I sit back and wonder that if my cynical self thinks this is sorta ridiculous, certainly it would swipe the smile off the face of a 20-something newlywed girl in the buoyant 10th week of her first pregnancy.
Suddenly I realize she's asked me a question. "Umm... sorry, excuse me, what was that??"
"I SAID, now you need give us $200 up front, before we take you on as a patient. Will that be cash, check, Visa, or Mastercard?"
And that was that. I think to myself: Baby Yarnoz is now on layaway. Mike will be so proud.
Monday, July 06, 2009
One Week In!
As today winds to a close, we here at Baby Yarnoz are going to take the time to reflect. Oh, how much we've done in the last week.
Let us review (this started in order, but decayed into a Hormonal Whirling Dervish!!):
Let us review (this started in order, but decayed into a Hormonal Whirling Dervish!!):
- Pack up the loft (albeit done with the assistance of Armstrong Relocation)
- Pack up the cars
- Get our bikes cleansed.
- Say goodbye to Winston-Salem.
- Blow up the Air Mattress. Do Battle!
- Unpacked our clothes (from our cars)
- Did some yardwork.
- Cleaned
- Touched up the baseboards in the Master and Nursery
- Took off the circa 1960s shower door in the Ocean Bathroom.
- Chiseled away at the grout in the Ocean Bathroom.
- Did more yardwork.
- Peed. (The amazing number of times this occurred deserves its own number)
- Regrouted the Ocean Bathroom.
- Installed the wireless internet.
- Arranged our furniture.
- Unpacked boxes and boxes and boxes.
- Did even more yardwork.
- Sanded down two dressers and one cabinet.
- Repainted the two dressers and one cabinet.
- Repainted the Nursery shelving.
- Touched up the accent wall in the Nursery.
- Unpacked more boxes.
- Set up the entertainment center. (This actually required a fair amount of drilling.)
- Went to the do-it-ourselves store, multiple times.
- Visited Starbucks frequently, an apparent home of the local Asian mafia.
- Dined out an exorbitant number of times. (This is seriously draining the budget. Especially since the GC needs fuel every 6 hours. Punctually! Never fails. )
- Got maimed by Ham. (But got out of yardwork!!!)
- Moved the said refinished furniture pieces back into the house.
- Vacuumed repeatedly. I think the Dyson is about to quit and go back to Sweden (?).
- Stocked our outdoor fridge, which coincidentally is our only fridge.
- Set up the crib.
- Finish the Ocean Bathroom.
- Buy another Queen mattress set.
- Setup the smaller guest room.
- Shave. (I was forced too. The GC doesn't like beards. Also, there seems to be more and more gray in it!)
- Do more yardwork
- Blog
- Think of more blogs
- Settle into the GM with the ultimate form of nesting... renovation!!!
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Like Father, Like Son. (Part 3)
So yesterday, in betwixt other sorted odds and ends, the GC and I went out to work in the yard. (This is really how things have been going here. There has been so much to do, that the GC overloads. Seriously. She seems to have organizational ADD with added Hormones! We unpack a couple of boxes, and then happen to mention something about a kitchen, and then she's off making our make-shift kitchen. Then we're unpacking in the bedroom, and whoosh, she's off to the carport, moving furniture. Instead of room-by-room, which is what I thought the organization fiend Charmaine would do, we are getting a blurring of GC. Fun filled.)
Well, in the midst of one of this hairpin changes, the GC states that she wants to do some yardwork. So she's off... whoosh... to the yard. Weed wacker, rake, edger, and mower all in tow. I dutifully drudge out there to help her.
Er... what are you doing?!?!?!
Well, babe, I was going to help you do some yardwork?
Um, no!!!
Why?
Look at your finger! You can't get that infected!!! Your hands are too valuable!
But? Come on, babe. um... We live in a world of antibiotics! I can beat any infection. ... I stammer on with some other incoherent babbling.
Nope. N-O. You won't let me on the ladder. I won't let you do this!
Damn. Great. I didn't know what to do. So I stood there and watched. Swept and raked a little when she wasn't watching. But damn, she had 4 eyes in the back of her head!
So there I was watching my wife do yardwork pregnant! As she was mowing the lawn, some of our neighbors drove by, with disapproving looks. I did the only thing I could think of, I wave and pointed to my finger! I tried to mouth "I'm wounded", but they didn't buy it.
Great! Here I was ... a young strapping Spanish doctor, son of a strapping Spanish doctor, who was watching his young, beautiful pregnant wife piddle around mowing the lawn... all due to saving the precious hands.
Wait a minute!
I've heard this story before!!!
Damn, That's 3!
Like Father, Like Son
Well, in the midst of one of this hairpin changes, the GC states that she wants to do some yardwork. So she's off... whoosh... to the yard. Weed wacker, rake, edger, and mower all in tow. I dutifully drudge out there to help her.
Er... what are you doing?!?!?!
Well, babe, I was going to help you do some yardwork?
Um, no!!!
Why?
Look at your finger! You can't get that infected!!! Your hands are too valuable!
But? Come on, babe. um... We live in a world of antibiotics! I can beat any infection. ... I stammer on with some other incoherent babbling.
Nope. N-O. You won't let me on the ladder. I won't let you do this!
Damn. Great. I didn't know what to do. So I stood there and watched. Swept and raked a little when she wasn't watching. But damn, she had 4 eyes in the back of her head!
So there I was watching my wife do yardwork pregnant! As she was mowing the lawn, some of our neighbors drove by, with disapproving looks. I did the only thing I could think of, I wave and pointed to my finger! I tried to mouth "I'm wounded", but they didn't buy it.
Great! Here I was ... a young strapping Spanish doctor, son of a strapping Spanish doctor, who was watching his young, beautiful pregnant wife piddle around mowing the lawn... all due to saving the precious hands.
Wait a minute!
I've heard this story before!!!
Damn, That's 3!
Like Father, Like Son
Ham Fails Another Shining Moment and Mikey Gets a Bo-Bo!!
Friday, around 6pm. Ham had already eaten his dinner and was starting to do the pee-pee dance. I figured I had to to my daily chore, and go for an andar (spanish for walk... Ham has learned "walk" so we switched about 3 years ago. Somehow the Spanish language escapes the poor dog, and he still hasn't figured it out.)
Anyway, I grab his long, extendo-leash with choke chain. From out of the back corners of the Green Machine, he comes barreling around the corner. I put the leash on, and we're off. A walking we go... Ham sniffs... hikes leg... marks... moves on... On and on we go. Sniff/hike/mark/move. Yada yada yada.
We turn the corner and head home. As we get closer, I see our next door neighbors out in the yard. Hmmm. I think, I should go and introduce myself. Be friendly and neighborlike. Not like in Tampa, where we just starting talking to our neighbors right before we left. But then my shyness starts to creep in... don't go over, walk home... No I can't, the GC would kill me! Just the other day she was saying how we had to be more outgoing and friendly. I agreed. So I made up my mind to do it. I should've been shy.
I wave to them, and step closer to their yard. "Hey, I'm Mike. I just moved -" Just then I saw they had a big black lab, not on a leash. Flash of panic. (Editors note: Ham has a problem, er, maybe two problems, er .... make that 3 problems. 1: He sharts (but this has been cured with his recent trip to the beauty salon for some anal glandial cleansing.) 2: He hates/kills cats. and 3. He has some pretty terrible leash aggression. Really bad. But doesn't do a lick of anything when off in the dog park. But Maine and I have tried everything, except maybe tasering. That might be next.) Hmmm... thoughts are racing now. Should I risk it? He looks tired, tongue hanging on the road. Yes, must move on.
Just as that races through my head, Ham growls something fierce and starts off for this dog. (who actually was about twice his size... but Ham is ripped fuel!! He doesn't care.) Crapo! Instinct now takes over. I reach down with my left hand to grab his extendo-leash. As I do, I think maybe I shouldn't do that. -- FLASH!!! A searing, pain comes burning from my left ring finger, and shoots up my arm to my head. Uh OH!!! That isn't good. Do I still have my finger? In the midst of all this, I somehow manage to stop Ham inches from Cyrus' (the other lab) face. I reel him back in, all the while still managing to chat with the neighbors. But, thinking damn my finger is on FIRE!!! I couldn't bare to look, but I had to know....
I glance down... the whole section of skin between the innermost and outer knuckle was white and bubbly. I think it actually was sizzling! It looked pretty serious, I thought. Wait a minute, why are my feet going numb? OH NO!!! The wobblies got up to through my arms and started to reach my ears. Muffle muffle.... Oh Crap! This is how I'm going to introduce myself to my neighbors, via 9-1-1. Damn. Focus Daniel-son!!! Feel the Force!!!
I'm trying to focus on their conversation. Nice neighborhood... good area... older people are selling or dying off... blah blah blah... I couldn't help but wonder if they were seeing the blood rushing from my face. Coincidentally, Ham shut up pretty good about this time. I think he sensed what was coming.
Crap crap crap!!! Where was the Maine? She's a doctor, she could save me. Nope, I was alone on this one. I should have chosen what was behind Door #2.... I was going down.
But then, out of somewhere, pain brought me back. Searing pain. Blood curdling pain.... But actually there was no blood; the friction must have coagulated it! (If there was blood, I think I would have surely gone down.) The wobblies were abating. The conversation was moving. And I was still standing!!!! Thank God!!!
So, I finished up the conversation. (Even the really awkward parts where the dude was saying that they were selling the house, because he got laid off. I couldn't come back with something to that one. Maybe I should have told him I almost just severed my finger!) I run back with Ham to the GM.
-MAINE!!! I need you!!! What's up babe? Ham did it again! I hold up my hand, half expecting to see my finger fall off. But it didn't.
Awww, Mikey's got a Bo-Bo!?! She says in her patronizing sort-of way as she approaches smirking. Then when she gets closer and see witnesses the carnage... -OH!!
Yup. Mikey's got a Bo-Bo!
(and I haven't gotten my Disability Insurance yet!!!)
Anyway, I grab his long, extendo-leash with choke chain. From out of the back corners of the Green Machine, he comes barreling around the corner. I put the leash on, and we're off. A walking we go... Ham sniffs... hikes leg... marks... moves on... On and on we go. Sniff/hike/mark/move. Yada yada yada.
We turn the corner and head home. As we get closer, I see our next door neighbors out in the yard. Hmmm. I think, I should go and introduce myself. Be friendly and neighborlike. Not like in Tampa, where we just starting talking to our neighbors right before we left. But then my shyness starts to creep in... don't go over, walk home... No I can't, the GC would kill me! Just the other day she was saying how we had to be more outgoing and friendly. I agreed. So I made up my mind to do it. I should've been shy.
I wave to them, and step closer to their yard. "Hey, I'm Mike. I just moved -" Just then I saw they had a big black lab, not on a leash. Flash of panic. (Editors note: Ham has a problem, er, maybe two problems, er .... make that 3 problems. 1: He sharts (but this has been cured with his recent trip to the beauty salon for some anal glandial cleansing.) 2: He hates/kills cats. and 3. He has some pretty terrible leash aggression. Really bad. But doesn't do a lick of anything when off in the dog park. But Maine and I have tried everything, except maybe tasering. That might be next.) Hmmm... thoughts are racing now. Should I risk it? He looks tired, tongue hanging on the road. Yes, must move on.
Just as that races through my head, Ham growls something fierce and starts off for this dog. (who actually was about twice his size... but Ham is ripped fuel!! He doesn't care.) Crapo! Instinct now takes over. I reach down with my left hand to grab his extendo-leash. As I do, I think maybe I shouldn't do that. -- FLASH!!! A searing, pain comes burning from my left ring finger, and shoots up my arm to my head. Uh OH!!! That isn't good. Do I still have my finger? In the midst of all this, I somehow manage to stop Ham inches from Cyrus' (the other lab) face. I reel him back in, all the while still managing to chat with the neighbors. But, thinking damn my finger is on FIRE!!! I couldn't bare to look, but I had to know....
I glance down... the whole section of skin between the innermost and outer knuckle was white and bubbly. I think it actually was sizzling! It looked pretty serious, I thought. Wait a minute, why are my feet going numb? OH NO!!! The wobblies got up to through my arms and started to reach my ears. Muffle muffle.... Oh Crap! This is how I'm going to introduce myself to my neighbors, via 9-1-1. Damn. Focus Daniel-son!!! Feel the Force!!!
I'm trying to focus on their conversation. Nice neighborhood... good area... older people are selling or dying off... blah blah blah... I couldn't help but wonder if they were seeing the blood rushing from my face. Coincidentally, Ham shut up pretty good about this time. I think he sensed what was coming.
Crap crap crap!!! Where was the Maine? She's a doctor, she could save me. Nope, I was alone on this one. I should have chosen what was behind Door #2.... I was going down.
But then, out of somewhere, pain brought me back. Searing pain. Blood curdling pain.... But actually there was no blood; the friction must have coagulated it! (If there was blood, I think I would have surely gone down.) The wobblies were abating. The conversation was moving. And I was still standing!!!! Thank God!!!
So, I finished up the conversation. (Even the really awkward parts where the dude was saying that they were selling the house, because he got laid off. I couldn't come back with something to that one. Maybe I should have told him I almost just severed my finger!) I run back with Ham to the GM.
-MAINE!!! I need you!!! What's up babe? Ham did it again! I hold up my hand, half expecting to see my finger fall off. But it didn't.
Awww, Mikey's got a Bo-Bo!?! She says in her patronizing sort-of way as she approaches smirking. Then when she gets closer and see witnesses the carnage... -OH!!
Yup. Mikey's got a Bo-Bo!
(and I haven't gotten my Disability Insurance yet!!!)
Changing Focus!
As we celebrate getting under the 60 mark, we here at BY are going to shift gears. It seems that we have probably paid too much attention to the GC, and maybe poked too much fun. So we must find a new target. Since topics about Ham can only fill so much blog space, that leaves me to face the harsh spotlight of sarcastic humor.
These next few blog entries should easily fill that role
These next few blog entries should easily fill that role
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Celebrating the 4th, BY-Style!!!
Well after a long week of moving and nesting, the GC and I were pretty beat. She powered down for about 4 hours this afternoon. (I even got to watch some HD TV!)
So we had heard from multiple sources that the fireworks show downtown was something to see. So we headed down to the riverfront to watch. Took no time at all, and with some delay in the parking deck, we were out and about.
Then we took in the sites, watching the Army rock band belt out some cheesy American rock tunes....
GC looking stunning:
Me sporting a day's growth:
Then her camera died, and no more pics. But the night was great. A nice breeze coming off the water was awesome. Then some lovely fireworks, shot from the park next to the USS North Carolina (which is permanently docked here.)
After the show, then it was bedlam to try to get back to the car. The GC was in full effect... mowing people over left and right. One poor dude actually bounced off her belly. I think BY kicked him in the jimmy! We make it to the car on the top floor of the garage... and no movement. For an hour!!! Seriously. I still don't know why.
But we have survived. Now the GC is in bed next to me, powering down for another night sleep. I think she is dreaming of yardwork! But that is a story for a different day.
So we had heard from multiple sources that the fireworks show downtown was something to see. So we headed down to the riverfront to watch. Took no time at all, and with some delay in the parking deck, we were out and about.
Then we took in the sites, watching the Army rock band belt out some cheesy American rock tunes....
GC looking stunning:
Me sporting a day's growth:
Then her camera died, and no more pics. But the night was great. A nice breeze coming off the water was awesome. Then some lovely fireworks, shot from the park next to the USS North Carolina (which is permanently docked here.)
After the show, then it was bedlam to try to get back to the car. The GC was in full effect... mowing people over left and right. One poor dude actually bounced off her belly. I think BY kicked him in the jimmy! We make it to the car on the top floor of the garage... and no movement. For an hour!!! Seriously. I still don't know why.
But we have survived. Now the GC is in bed next to me, powering down for another night sleep. I think she is dreaming of yardwork! But that is a story for a different day.
Purchasing Night Parking for the GC
Whew! Yesterday was so busy! The GC is powering down now, recharging for another afternoon of activity. Now I have a break from the Admiral (she's upgraded rank) to blog away...
We just got back from the Mall. (Yes I know... it's Charmaine's kryptonite... but the GC was only thinking about food and a new mattress... this was the closest compromise)
So after finishing lunch, we ambled the Mall looking for a new mattress. First store... nope... amble more... The GC started wobbling a little... power running down.... Uh Oh.... "I'm okay". We make it to Sears and find the mattress section. GC looks sleepy... good time for a break.
1st mattress: I lay down... ooh... nice.. but a little too soft... Time for the GC. Woompf! She collapses into the bed. Pillow covers all around her. In fact, I think she sunk in a couple of feet. Nope.. too soft...
I move on to the next one.... Er... um... Mike... can you help? I look back and see the top of the GC cresting over the bed and pillows... Ooops. She is officially a turtle now, stuck on her back with all fours floundering in the air. Eh huh uhhh huhh humpf! She's stuck. Poor woman. I sneak a sly smile as I walk over to help her up... Thanks.
2nd mattress: I lay down... oooh... way to firm... possibly a little bouncy. Er GC, maybe you should be caref... Ker-plumpf!! I barely look over in time to see the GC blur going to plop on the mattress... she hits the mattress and bounces straight back up!!! I think she got almost a foot of air until she landed back down. Wow!!! Um, Mike, I think this one is too firm. You could say that again.
Well, we finally go through a couple of more mattresses until we find the one. Again, Sears has a deal where you can put off the payments, interest free, for another 18 months.... More $$$$ flying out of my pockets!!!
In fact, I think the Sears has offically renamed the Green Machine, almost like stadium or football bowl games naming rights.
Welcome, to the "Green Machine, Presented by Sears!"
We just got back from the Mall. (Yes I know... it's Charmaine's kryptonite... but the GC was only thinking about food and a new mattress... this was the closest compromise)
So after finishing lunch, we ambled the Mall looking for a new mattress. First store... nope... amble more... The GC started wobbling a little... power running down.... Uh Oh.... "I'm okay". We make it to Sears and find the mattress section. GC looks sleepy... good time for a break.
1st mattress: I lay down... ooh... nice.. but a little too soft... Time for the GC. Woompf! She collapses into the bed. Pillow covers all around her. In fact, I think she sunk in a couple of feet. Nope.. too soft...
I move on to the next one.... Er... um... Mike... can you help? I look back and see the top of the GC cresting over the bed and pillows... Ooops. She is officially a turtle now, stuck on her back with all fours floundering in the air. Eh huh uhhh huhh humpf! She's stuck. Poor woman. I sneak a sly smile as I walk over to help her up... Thanks.
2nd mattress: I lay down... oooh... way to firm... possibly a little bouncy. Er GC, maybe you should be caref... Ker-plumpf!! I barely look over in time to see the GC blur going to plop on the mattress... she hits the mattress and bounces straight back up!!! I think she got almost a foot of air until she landed back down. Wow!!! Um, Mike, I think this one is too firm. You could say that again.
Well, we finally go through a couple of more mattresses until we find the one. Again, Sears has a deal where you can put off the payments, interest free, for another 18 months.... More $$$$ flying out of my pockets!!!
In fact, I think the Sears has offically renamed the Green Machine, almost like stadium or football bowl games naming rights.
Welcome, to the "Green Machine, Presented by Sears!"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)