And then I died.

I almost died at work the other night. I'm not even kidding y'all. It was some seriously scary shit. Probably the most scared I have ever been in my entire life.

So I'm out at the Dam in the middle of the fucking wilderness on top of a mountain checking on things, as per my job. I got out to the location earlier than usual, at around 9pm, it was still light out, sorta twilight. I thought to myself that maybe I would get out and look around, take in the scenery overlooking town. Sounds like a good idea right?

Can you tell where this is going?

So I'm out of the truck, about 10 ft away from it, checking to make sure everything is secure when I turn around to look out at the view. Not 40ft away stands the BIGGEST black bear I have ever seen in my entire life. I froze.

My brain was like body what do i do?

Legs- Frozen in spot.

Arms- clenched in terror. throw something maybe???

Brain- your hands are empty. Try again.

Eyes- cry???

Brain- Does this look like a fucking man to you? Your tears will just be like salting yourself for him. And before mouth pipes in, screaming will only anger him, make him want to eat you to shut you up. Try again.

Nervous system- sweat? shake in fear? will that help?

Brain- No, you guys you're not helpi...

Bladder- PEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! I can do that for you?

Brain-NOBODY ASKED YOU BLADDER, THAT WILL NOT HELP ANYTHING!!! Now come on body we've got to do something.

Survival instinct- (rolls its eyes) Well you fucking idiot, maybe you should run!

Whole body- OMFG YES RUN TO THE TRUCK!!!


So I did, and I lived, obviously. But man was I scared. I sat in the truck and watched him watch me for a few minutes, then walk away. Obviously wondering what the fuck was up with that crazy bitch in the truck freaking out.

Men, go figure...

So as a security guard/first aid attendant in my new job at a big metallurgical smelter, I come into contact with alot of men.

Some of these men are cute. Not very many mind you, but a few.

And because I am a security guard, we have alot of contact with the men who work in the gold/silver refinery part. Now here's where the story takes a turn for the funny.

There is a guy on my shift who is one of the cute ones in silver/gold. He is cute. For a blonde haired blue eyed guy. (I'm into tall dark and handsome. I married dark and handsome) He is also a body builder type. Like HUGE. Like every muscle tightly defined and toned. All hot and sweaty... (drool) anyway.

So this guy knows Husband. Like they've hung out together. Not very often, but enough to know that I'm married to him.

As soon as I started working there, he was volunteering for strip searches. Like jokingly at first, but he kept volunteering. It was kinda funny, especially since I can't do the searches cause I'm a girl. Obviously. Anyway, when I would go in there for my work he would always try and have conversations with me and was always making snide little backhanded comments about Husband. Always funny though, not like he was really serious about anything.

Harmless flirting that means nothing to either of us. I would never cheat. Ever.

So the other night, I came in to pick up the silver sample and he walks up to me all shyly, and whispers "I burned my hand" and holds it out to me for sympathy. I look (cause I'm a first aid attendant, I should pretend that I'm worried for him) and seriously, no mark. Maybe a teeny tiny little red mark. Nothing that this hulk of a man should be whining about. But here we are. So I poke at it a little to look like I'm concerned, and tell him he'll be fine. He says "will it blister?" all concerned like. I ask when it happened and and then tell him if it hasnt blistered yet, it won't. But still he's being a whiner and he asks if he should go to fire hall where the first aid room is. I laugh and tell him that if I think hes being a baby, they will outright laugh at him. So then he asks me in this little baby voice if I could get him an ice pack for his hand. All the while the other guys are saying how they should burn themsleves so I can come nurse them back to health. Making a big joke out of it, confirming my suspicion that he only said anything because he wanted attention from me.

So I went and got him an ice pack from the ambulance and brought it to him, he was all grateful and still whiny that it hurt so I just laughed at him ( I think I might not be a very good first aid attendant :( ) and told him to take it easy with his hand for the night.

Anyway, the next day I told Hubby that Hot guy was hitting on me. I was fully expecting him to be mad at me, and at Hot guy. All I got for a response was "I bet that makes you fell pretty good hey?" I'm floored, like "What did you just say???" And he's all, I know I feel good about myself when women hit on me, so it must do the same for you. Well, yes, but that's the response you give me? I'm disappointed, where's the jealousy, the rage, the posessiveness, the stay away from my wife stuff?

He looks me in the eye and says and I fucking quote "So I get in his face and tell him to back off and stop talking to my wife and he'd flick me away like a fly. Not easy to be intimidating when the other guy could anhilate you!"

Ah, honesty... I guess this means he trusts me.

Fetishist

So I have a confesion to make about my son. It's kind of embarassing to admit because its weird to know something like this about your own kid.

Somethings just dont need to be known, especially not this early in his life. I mean he's only two for christ sake. If its bad enough now at TWO imagine how bad it will be when he's a teenager and has hormones and stuff coursing through his veins.

So here we go...


Tristan has a foot fetish. For Reals.

Oh, Hi mom. I'm just ummmmm........ please dont look at me.

It started young. His first real word was shoe. I'm not even kidding you. I wish I was. Other kids his age were mastering Mama or Dada and he was muttering shoe. He still refuses to differentiate between me and hubby. We are Mamadada. Like it doesnt matter to him which one of us he gets, just as long as someone gives him what he wants. Anyway...

Its not just that he first said shoe, its also his insistence to wear shoes all the time, when he's not wearing shoes he's playing with his toes, saying over and over again toe toe toe. He's fascinated with womens feet. Painted toenails are his weakness, and forget it if youre wearing a toe ring.

He always wants to wear everyones shoes, and will walk around in them if you dont happen to be currently attached to them. He knows where every pair of his shoes are currently and can retrieve them for you if you ask him to. He studies feet, he touches feet, thankfully he doesnt taste feet (yet), but he will smell them. Although it is always followed with a scrunched nose and an EW!

Should I worry about this weird fetish? Or do all little kids have some kind of fascination at this age?

I imagine Leighton Meester would be his dream girl. (Google her name and foot if you dont know what I'm referring to. Kinda funky shit that girl is into...)

Battle of the Wills

So I think I may have bragged to someone too much about how good of an eater Tristan was, because low and behold, he has stopped eating. For serious.

He will not eat anything with any regularity, except ice cream, fruit and his morning oatmeal. If he once would eat someting with gusto, now he will not touch it. He used to love hot dogs, mashed potatoes, ground beef, cucumber, anything meat basically at all, ravioli, spaghetti. Among basically anything else you could throw at him. Seriously he would eat oysters with the hubby.

Now? He will not touch any of it.

And I am at my wits end with him. I have tried making him sit at his high chair until he eats, but he wont. He just sits there screaming at the top of his lungs, crying. Loudly.

I have tried making him foods that he once loved, thinking his new aversion was texture related. But it seems to have no correlation whatever to him not eating it, unless he simply does not like the feeling of FOOD in his mouth. He wont touch anything.

I have tried repeatedly giving him the same food over and over again until he eats it dammit, but he wont, and I'm afraid to see how long he can keep this up for.

I have tried force feeding him as a last resort, and it doesnt accomplish anything except hysterical crying (on both our parts) and me wearing whatever it was I tried to make him eat.

What do I do? Do I ignore the tantrums and then just take away the food after a reasonable amount of time, pretending like there was no problem? Do I keep trying to make anything hoping he will eventually eat something? Am I to become a short order cook? Does he grow out of this? Should I just continue to give him the food over and over again until he eats it?

Seriously I have no idea what to do, please any suggestions would be very useful to me. I am about to snap, and I dont want this to end badly for my husband. He gets the brunt end of my anger and I dont know how much longer he will think its cute. Probably not much, because it is starting to bother me. And thats not really a good sign.

HELP!!!

Chocolate Elmo Hawk

So the other day I came home from work to find my men outside doing yard work.

That is the good part of the story. It goes downhill from there...

T was wearing a toque, and at first I thought nothing of it, the Adam asked T where his hair was which was kinda odd, but didnt really set off alarms in my head until T started making his sign for all gone. I was like WHAT???!!!! T pulled off his toque and his head was shaved into a Chuck Liddell mohawk (from UFC). Cue one very pissed mommy.

So I called my mom and my sister and to make a long story short when I said Chuck Liddell mohawk they both SEPERATELY heard me say a chocolate elmo hawk and both couldnt figure out what I was talking about. My mom was even more pissed than I was. Marie thought it was kinda hilarious, her husband loves it.

It has grown on me now. Even though he has had a full head of hair since the day he was born. The only thing I am not quite sold on is that he now looks like a little BOY. There is absolutely no trace left of my BABY!

Judge for yourselves....

Before

After

Hapy Mothers Day

This is my 2nd Mothers Day, and it was celebrated by being woken up at 6am by my husband when he got home from work asking what I wanted for a present.

I told him I wanted to go back to sleep.

Thankfully he volunteered more than that. He told me I could book a massage on my next days off. I think I said thanks. I'm not sure. I DID however roll over and go back to sleep.

I havent been sleeping very well lately. There are two reasons, and I'm not sure which of these reasons is more to blame. The first reason is because I am sick (the daycare germs take us all out everytime), and therefore I cannot breathe through my nose. At all. I woke up at one point wondering what that damn noise was. It was my nose whistling. This was before my sinuses attacked and sealed off my nose completely. It is really uncomfortable to make yourself go back to sleep while consciously breathing through your mouth. Especially when your worried about swallowing a spider or something.

The second reason is that there is a frog in my pool somewhere. Imagine yourself just starting to doze off when out of nowhere RIBBIT! You lift your head and look over at your spouse, who also is looking at you, both wondering if you did indeed hear what you thought you heard. You roll your eyes and then lay back down. You lay awake waiting to see if he will do it again. Five minutes pass and nothing, so you start to drift off, dreaming of Colin Farrell, doing things, talking to you in his sexy accent and all of a sudden out if his mouth RIBBIT! You look at him confused, and ask him to repeat himself, sometimes that accent is just really hard to understand, he clears his throat and RIBBIT RIBBIT! As you're watching him he morphs into the ugliest frog you've ever seen and leans closer to your face RIBBIT! And then you wake up. Now you're really pissed off. You can't sleep, and the damn frog ruined a Colin dream.

Fucking frog.

As I think of it, I've decided the frog is worse.

But I can't find it anywhere. If I could that bastard would be served as frogs legs. To hubby; I'm not that adventurous of an eater. But I would enjoy watching him eat it.

Ribbit!

Hope everyone has had a wonderful Mothers Day! Mine was alright, except the terrible twos are kicking my ass! But that's a whole other post.

Ribbit!

Dumb blonde moment

I was in the batroom the other morning, brushing my teeth with my electric toothbrush, when it died. I seriously stood there for almost a full minute wondering in my head how I was supposed to brush my teeth now.

And then I went DUH you idiot, move your arm.

5am is just way too early for brainwaves to fire anything resembling a cohesive thought.

But at least my teeth were clean.

Confession

So I disappeared again hey? Well there is a reason for it I swear.

No, it's not because I am taking my Occupational First Aid level 3 course (although it is DAMN hard) and it's not because I am starting a new job the day after my exam (SUPER nervous), and it's also not because Tristan turned two last week and I had a house full of people wo came from all over the country ( although, OMG my baby is TWO PEOPLE and yes all my relatives came to celebrate with us).....


And I am so embarrassed to admit this..........






I forgot my google password. Not just once, like every time I went to blog or comment, I had to reset my password. It was so bad I had this scenario in my head that some person in the google office was laughing hysterically because THIS PERSON is restting her password. AGAIN!!!!!! Haha can you imagne how slow she must be????

And before you all feel the need to tell me its all automated, I KNOW THIS. Rationally I know this. But I couldn't stop that image in my head no matter how much I told myself this.

So I was trying to remember it all by myself, but I gave up.


THEYRE ALL GONNA LAUGH AT ME!


p.s. Tristan pulled the H key off of my keyboard, so if at any point there is an H missing from a word imagine its there. The key is a little temperamental now. You sure realize how common H's are in words when you have to watch to make sure it worked everytime you type one.

Things Hubby said in Mexio

To the various cabbies and bus drivers

"Do you know Ricky Martin?"
"Do you know Enrique Iglesias?"

"Can I see your licence?" (driver didn't really appreciate that)

"You should move to Canada, it's really great there" (The one man recruiter)

"Do I look like I could pass as a mexican?" (yes)

To random people at the resort

"Come to the stage area at around 1am and we(he and his friend) will be fighting in our tighty whities, with towels tied around our necks." (seriously, and I'm not even slightly kidding)

Nacho Libre and Ray-Mysterio. These masks seriously made their vacation. Hubby was so happy and they were their source of entertainment for the rest of the trip.

A conversation with some random woman outside a bathroom with his mask on his head

"Excuse me, do you speak english?" She says with hand gestures.

"Yeah." Hubby looks baffled

"Do you think you could put your mask on for my son to see?" With more hand gestures, as though he really doesn't speak english very well.

"Sure." Puts mask on, and little boy is soooo happy. Jumps around with glee.

"Thank you so much sir!" with more hand gestures.

"Hey, no problem. I just bought it about 15min ago, for like 17 bucks. I'm so happy."

Blank stare back because she thought he was mexican and part of the staff.

I seriously laughed for a good twenty minutes.

While really drunk to his friend

"Oh, I don't need no pussy-ass medication to not have sea-sickness. I'll be fine, I don't get sea sick. If you get sick I will give you a life jacket and let you swim to shore. You ain't wrecking my fishing trip."

Which, turns out he did need it and does get sea sick. Although apparently the "pussy-ass" medication didn't work, because he got sick too. Hubby puked so forcefully he burst all the blood vessels in his face. Thankfully his friend didn't do that to his face, only slept the whole day, because he got married the next day.

To me

"Are you drunk because my mom has Tristan today?" (yes, very muchly so. was not happy about the situation at all. was EXTREMELY drunk before 11 am that day.)

"You know it's not a good sign when (on the bus for our Coba Adventure Excursion) there are two 80 year old women. Not looking very Adventurous."

To the tour guide when booking said excursion

"So is there beer included in this price?"

"No, because yo will be climbing the ruins, they don't really want you to be toasted."

"Oh, so I should just bring my own then?" (he did)

Some things never change. Hubby will continue to be my very own source of entertainment until the day one of us dies. And it better be him to go first, because the universe will have alot of explaining to do if I die first.

Rainy Days...

So in January Hubby and I went to Mexico for a week for our "belated honeymoon". It wasn't actually our honeymoon, but it was in the sense that this was the first trip we had taken together since we got married. (Except Jamaica, but 8 Mos pregnant on vacation doesn't count)

We decided to leave Tristan in Saskatchewan with the parents (WHOLE OTHER STORY!). We had fun, really, but we missed him sooooo badly. More so because the resort we went to was so family oriented and was totally kid friendly. Next time we will bring him for sure.

We had planned this trip with another couple over a year ago, so when it finally was time to go it was really exciting. They got there two days before us because we couldn`t get work schedules to line up. They got sunshine those wo days. However as soon as we got there the clouds and wind rolled in and seriously, didn`t let up until THE MORNING WE LEFT! Seriously, we were sitting in the airport and as the sun came out (we left our hotel at 4AM to get to airport for our 8 am flight)the day dawned bright and clear and fucking gorgeous. I was so pissed I was coming back to Canada without a tan.

It wasn`t all bad because before we left at christmas time, my friend phoned me and told me she was going to get married while we were there. SO MUCH FUN!!! I was stoked, we were gonna get so drunk and have so much fun making up for sober Jamaica. THEN, when I get there, she informs me she can`t drink, she`s three months pregnant. Again, so happy for her. Bummed for me though. But it was alright, I drank with the guys when I felt like it. It seriously rained the day of her wedding, so we were scared she wasn`t gonna be able to get married on the beach. But all was fine.

We did still have fun, we went on a pirate cruise, and went to Coba and climbed the pyramid thingy, and went zip-lining, kayaking, rappelling, and cave swimming. It was actually kinda fun. Anway, this post is getting kinda long, so I will continue to tell the individual stories of things throughout the week. With pictures.

And also with a warning as to why you should never practice archery while sober! For serious.

Jackass

So we got from Sears today, my sons new big boy bed. It is the twin size Fisher Price Lightning McQueen car bed. He loves it soo much now, it ridiculous.

Setting it up though, sucked the life out of me.

Well, that comes off wrong. Setting it up was fine. It was easy. Setting it up with my husband; was hell. I dont understand sometimes how we can be married for almost 5 years and I haven't killed him, chopped him up in a wood chipper, and fed him to some pigs (I don't have pigs, but I'd find some...). First he was pissy because it was plastic. Don't know why, but he thought it was going to be wood. So, strike one against fun afternoon. Then he was upset because the crib was still in the room so we didn't have much room to work with. Whatever, I wasnt going to just have the crib disappear on T-baby. I wanted to give him a grace period of getting used to it before I removed his regular sleep spot. Also part lazy because if he REFUSED to sleep in it I wasnt going to re-set up his crib. Strike two, things didn't go his way. Strike three was just that T-baby cried from our bedroom the whole time instead of sleeping. So we were both slightly on edge. We aren't used to him crying for any period of time, he's usually a very co-operative baby.

So then when we first brought in T-baby, he wan't really that impressed. He was cranky. But then he warmed up to it and was jumping on the bed. However by that time I had ranked this experience a giant FAIL and was in a bad mood because the male folk ruined my excitement.

But this is still pretty awesome...

Revenge is a dish best served cold...

So as I mentioned yesterday I had originally been royally pissed off at an author named Rebecca.



She and I had met in Calgary, after we had been discussing my mother in law and her shennanigans at my wedding through our blogs. Go back and follow the threads, you'll see what I mean. It actually started with her commenting on how my wedding was unbelievably ruined by my MIL, and that it would make a good book.



So I emailed her back asking if she knew the best way to go about getting a book published, and she offered to help write the book with me. I was so happy I cried. I have NEVER cried out of happiness, before or since and I have since had a kid. Judge me if you will, but I was unbelievably happy. So we continued to email each other, and she gave me the guidelines for writing a successful book proposal, as per her agent.



Joyously I wrote it all, and we conferred on things like book titles, and possible chapter headings. She told me not to tell anyone about it, because someone might find out our idea and steal it from us. That should have been my first warning flag. I went along with it. When we finally met in Calgary, I had completed the book proposal and gave the finished copy of it to her. When I returned home, I went to her blog and saw that she had written a post about our meeting, and this should have set alarms off in my head, but again I stupidly trusted her. Listening to her talk and how cavalier she was about the meeting, and about how she thought I might have been a crazy person, so she wanted to meet in public. I was fairly disappointed and wondered why she would portray me as some sort of fan-girl she obliged by meeting up with. Because she was discrediting me to anyone from the publishing world who might have been reading. That's what I think anyway. Call me crazy if you want, but that's what I think.



Anyway, so I waited. And waited and waited. And never heard anything from her for a while. So I pestered her with emails until she responded. And it wasn't good news for me. Her agent loved the idea of a book on inlaws, but apparently she was under contract to not write anything with another author, because I was an unknown. It made sense to me at the time, but now just sounds pathetic. To make things worse, she told me that she would continue shopping it around if it was ok with me, and if anything came of it, I would be asked to write a foreword to it. Might not be paid much, but would help me get my foot in the door of the publishing world. Of course I eagerly said yes, anything to help me get started as an author.



She took my permission and ran with it. I haven't heard from her since, and this was like three years ago. I guess you could say that maybe nobody bought into the idea, and she just moved on to other things. True, and she probably did since nothing has come out with her name on it about inlaws. However, it might just be that she has since split with her fiancee and maybe, a book on inlaws from someone who has no inlaws might be redundant. And hilarious.



I still have all the email correspondence between the two of us. My mom, the ever trusting soul that she is (haha) warned me that maybe I should still keep everything from her, just in case I got screwed. Glad I took moms advice this time.



Guess which "famous" author named Rebecca this is, and I will inform you if you are correct. That's your prize, I hope that's enough, because obviously I am not a published author, therefore I am not swimming in money to hand out. I basically gave up writing after the reality of being screwed over sank in. But still dream of it occasionally... maybe one day I'll start again.



Now how to get the word out to those in the right places so maybe she will never do this again?

WHAT UP BITCHES!!!

Ok, ok, I know I haven't posted in almost two years now, so I realize that I am officially talking to myself on a public forum. Which is fine. If I think nobody is listening I am probably more inclined to say what I really think. Unless I dont know you, in which case feel free to comment, I am still a comment whore.

Hmmmmm, where to start? Not much is new, my son is now almost two, and I live somewhere else. But I wont tell you where.

He doesnt really talk much, and we have an appointment with a speech pathologist in a few weeks. I'm not really worried per se, but I think that it can't really hurt anything to have an evaluation. Right? I mean I know, all kids talk at their own pace and I didnt really talk until I was 4 but I guess I am neurotic, so he will be evaluated. At worst it will be a day spent playing in an office with some new toys. Can't be that bad.

He really is the cutest kid ever if I must say so myself. I am almost ready to start trying for another kid. But I have a friend who has been trying for over a year now and if I were to get pregnant I think she would push me down the stairs. For reals. She is trying to get her doctor to prescribe her some fertility pills, but so far hasnt workd for her. Her Dr told her she needed to lose around 10-15lbs which I think is ridiculous. She's not overweight by any stretch of the imagination.

Which then leads me to admitting that if she DOES get fertility pills I want to buy a cycle off of her. Because my husband only wants one more kid, and I want two. I also want a girl badly, so this increases my chances of getting what I want. If I have twins, one is sure to be a girl right? JK. I know that having twins doesnt increase my chances of having a girl any more than being pregnant twice does. A girl can dream can't she?

Anyhow, my last post was referencing a "famous" author named Rebecca. Figure it out. Write me a comment if you want to know what she did. If two people comment me I will inform the world what was done to me.

TTYL!

Best laid plans

Sometimes things just don't go quite like you planned. Like this for example. I had planned on writing a very long inciteful, thought provoking post to keep your interst and to make you think for while I was gone. Something filled with gossip about another blogger of whom I know you all read too. Something top secret, and potentially reputation hurting for her.

However I can't. Hubby is standing over my shoulder right now waiting to pack up the computer. I had hoped to have another day with it. But sometimes I'm not in charge. I know that's hard for y'all to believe but there it is. I like to let him have his manhood occassionally. How kind of me I know.

So I guess you guys will just have to wait with baited breath for me to come back to hear my gossip. Haha.

As penance heres Tristan

LOOK! Shiny

Ummm, so I guess I've been neglecting you guys lately.

I'm sorry. Truly.

Unfortunately, it's only going to get worse for like the next month. You see, I'm moving again. And once again I will have no phone or (gasp) internet for a month. However I don't really feel like writing the final post to be up for that month yet, so here, be distracted by pictures of Tristan. I promise I'll be back before the end of the month.

Just chillin', figuring out his playmat

Rolling over. Seriously, 1 month and 4 days old. Can't believe it.

Bath time. He's loving it.

If there isn't enough stress in my life...

So since I've last posted life has been really interesting.

As you all know, or at least I think you do, we have sold our house and bought a new one. However we couldn't manage to get posession dates to line up so we are out of a house for a month. De ja vu anyone? Only this time now we hve a newborn.

I was beginning to think that I was gonna have to take the baby and the dogs and the cat and drive to Saskatchewan for a month. However two days ago we found a furnished place to rent. Yay. But now we have two moves to contend with. At least we can just put our stuff in storage for the month.

And to top it all off, the most stressful part of this whole situation is the hospital stay for a week we just went through. but I would've given anything to have had me be the reason for it. Unfortunately, it was Tristan.

We went in for a routine check up and wound up getting sent to the hospital and then sent to another hospital in an ambulance. His oxygen levels were in the 70's when they should be in the 90's. So we get there and I am forced to endure watching him get a heel stick.

And then I wait for the pediatrician to get there.

And wait.

And wait.

Three hours later he shows up.

Tristan has laryngeal malacia. Which means his larynx is not formed properly. It is soft instead of rigid. Which means when he eats he cant swallow and breathe at the same time like most babies. So he was choking when he tried to eat, so he would get just enough and then go to sleep. So he was losing weight which is what tipped me off that something wasnt right. His oxygen levels were so low because he was screaming for so long and holding his breath.

This is something that he will just grow out of, and there is nothing we can really do for it except modify how he's held while feeding. Which has to be done by bottle now. Which sucks. But whatever's best for him.

He was weighed today and he is now 7lbs and 15ozs. So he has gained back all he lost and more. At quite an astounding rate.

So all is good now. And thats what I've been doing.

Here is the most heartbreaking picture you will ever see.

He hates travelling so he cried in the ambulance the whole way there. And i died inside a little every time a tear fell.

Disappearing Act

So I kinda just disappeared there for a bit hey?

Well it's been a very interesting couple of weeks anyway.

My parents showed up on April 7th and we all started waiting (im)patiently for the little bugger to make his arrival. And of course he has a stubborn streak so he kept us waiting. But my dads threats about chasing me with the truck to get my labor going were starting to sound like he actually would. So I took matters into my own hands and insisted that I be induced. Immediately.

Things were all set to go for wednesday morning.

However Tuesday night my dad and husband decided they were going to go rock picking up the mountain. Drunk. About an hour later they came back looking sheepish. I knew something was up immediately. Turns out they went up somewhere they shouldn't have and had to slide down the hill on their asses. Well my dad slid funny and would up barrell rolling down the hill and somehow sliced the palm of his hand. Deep. Deep enough that it didn't hurt. Might've also had something to do with the whiskey.

So we load into the truck to head to the hospital. While we are waiting my dad is 'exploring' his hand to see just how bad it is. He grossed out the nurse and one doctor, that's how bad it was. Anyway, they had to call in extra nurses because of how busy it was and the surgeon to stitch his hand.

Then the doctor who is supposed to be doing my induction the next day pulls me aside to tell me that I may get bumped because they will be short staffed the next day because of how busy it was. In other words because of my dad. Boy was I mad.

Anyway the next morning rolls around and thankfully the still attempt the induction. I am inserted with a cervadil strip, and it hurt because the Dr. has short fingers. So I get strapped up to the monitor and have to wait for an hour before I can go.

Before I can leave they inform me that I am to come back in if my contractions become regular or my water breaks. If not, then the next morning they will start me on the pitocin drip. So I'm off to spend a night in agony with contractions not quite regular and no water breaking. I go in the next day expecting to be admitted only to learn that one of the surgeons has gone out of town so there is no c-section back up (or epidural) so they cannot continue with the induction.

Cue very mad angry pregnant woman.

So after hours of fucking around I finally convince the Dr. on call that I will be having this baby if I have to cut him out myself. So I am sent to another hospital about an hour away. Which is fine by me. Just get him out.

Off we head to EKRH on friday morning (couldn't go in on thursday because he was already inducing 3 other women. Which sounded promising to me) to be there at 8 am.

I am now settled into my room which is nothing more than a glorified closet because I am not officially in labour so I get the assessment room. In walks my new Dr. Now I should point out that I had a female Dr my whole pregnancy and had been quite set on a female dr. But I guess if you are desperate it doesn't matter anymore.

The guy is gorgeous. At least 6'5" tall, blonde hair blue eyes, south african accent. Giant hands. Even hubby is eyeing him up. It's obvious he doesn't want this man looking at my hooha.

He sits down to go over everything with me and flat out tells me there is no way I have gestational diabetes. Good to know. So i go over all my medical history with him and tell him about some problems I had been having. So he looks at myswelling and immediately orders some tests to be run. He informs me that my Dr is an idiot and that this is a high risk pregnancy because of my heart condition and that with the severity of my swelling he believes that i may have pre-eclampsia. Which I suspected for a while, but my Dr. didn't seem worried.

Test come back to show that my liver is shutting down. I was right. IT was pre-eclampsia not just an over indulgence of food that had me looking like a whale.

Anyway, another go of cervadil to see if that gets us anywhere. That night the contractions were so bad that I had to have a shot of morphine to get some sleep that night. Adam slept right through the pain I was in. I was rubbing my own back it hurt so much. I wanted to smother him. And shots in the ass hurt really badly, btw.

Next morning Dr Hottie walks in and next thing I know, there is a gush of fluid and eeeewww! He broke my water. No warning at all. He says alright, lets get you moved into another room and we'll start the pitocin drip shortly. Out he walks. I am a bit surprised, things are now moving very quickly and I want my mommy. Adam gets on the cell and calls them at the house. I tell them to hurry the fuck up and get here.

The contractions are ridiculously strong and I cant even talk through them. Adam is putting so much counter pressure on my back he's complaining that his hands hurt. Which nearly gets him killed. I am holding off on the epidural until my mom gets there and I swear they are taking their sweet ass time about it.

My nurse for the day is a sadistic bitch and I hate her with every fiber of my being. When its finally time for the epidural the guy asks if I can sit up or just roll onto my side so he can insert the needle. Bitchface says to him 'oh she can get up, she just doesn't like to' and proceeds to reef me upright. On the wrong side of the bed so I have to move twice. Through killer contractions. And then she kept trying to move me during my contractions to arch my spine. And she wasn't doing it right either so after being forcibly held in an uncomfortable position through three contractions the anesthesiologist informs her that my back isn't curved out enough. So I give my mom a look and she brushes the nurse away and helps me do it properly.

Two hours pass and I LOVE the epidural man. Dr. Hottie comes in checks that it's time to push. He informs me that I have one hour to get him out or its c-section for me because they are worried about my heart, and also now his heart rate has started to drop through the contractions. Down into the 60's and I'm starting to get really worried.

AFter some time of pushing and not a whole lot of progress my mom is like "come on Cindy that was a good one! I can see his head! PUSH PUSH!" The Doctor looks at her and says "Don't lie to her you can not." And I giggle a little inside my head because she got busted lying.

Time is running out on the clock and I'm being told that he is going to use the vaccuum to try and help. He gets it attached and uses it through one push. Not a whole lot of progress after that and I hear him telling the nurses to bump a surgery because I am going to be heading in pretty quickly. Now at this point I should tell you that I can feel everything going on down below and I am not happy. Two good pushes later and out comes his head. Without the help of the vaccuum ( I caught him off guard) and he's telling me not to push for a minute (Adam later tells me his cord was around his neck) and then out he comes.

Dr. Hottie plops him on my chest and I'll be perfectly honest here when I tell you I was thinking eeew! he's slimy and bloody get him off me. But I held him like a good mommy. The cord was cut and they took him away to clean him up and I could tell Adam was torn between staying with me and seeing his son. So I sent him to go look at his son while I got stitched. It was so bad that the doctor wouldn't tell me how many stitches I got. My mom counted about 10. But as I mentioned before, the epidural had worn off so I was very vocal about wanting something now to make me not feel this please. But even with a local anesthetic I could still feel it. Adam takes this point in time to joke with the doctor "So I'll see you in 9 months" the doctor looks at him and is like "come on give your wife a break. 10 months" And I want to kick them both in the head.

Tristan Adam

7lbs 60z

20 inches tall

36 centimeter head thank you very much.

adam said after watching labor I could name him whatever the hell I wanted. Haha I got my way.

His Apgar scores were 9 and 10. I surprised dr. hottie by knowing what that was.

Finally

No, not the baby. I'm still pregnant. I think I will be forever. At least it feels that way. What I mean is that our house is finally done being renovated and is now on the market. We had our first showing today.

It apparently went awesomely. They want to know how soon of a posession date is possible. And we have two more viewings scheduled for Friday and Saturday. Hopefully we wind up with a bidding war. That would rock.

Ummm, what else... mymom ordered me my crib. Wont get it until July. Thats right 4 months from now. Great. I ordered my stroller and car seat. Wont get it until April 14th. So I have no idea how we'lll get him home from the hospital without one. (we won't) No, I'm not stressed at all. I've only been waking up with migraines every morning because I have been sleeping with my teeth clenched. But stress? Nah. I've got none of that.

Except the fact that today my son tried to scare the fuck out of me by refusing to move at all, all day. Despite the fact I ate super amounts of sugar trying to wake him up (great for the gestational diabetes). SO I went to the Dr to get checked out, and his heart rate is fine (slower than normal for him but still good). I go for a non-stress test at the hospital tomorrow. Hopefully everything checks out, but my Dr didnt seem too worried.

My mom says its a sign that hes going to be coming soon. I'm not sure how I feel about that. BECAUSE I AM NOT READY FOR IT. But at the same time I am.

Nothing else new at this point so... I will keep you all posted.

also THIS JUST IN WE HAVE AN OFFER ON THE HOUSE!

Fine then

Alright, so I 've finally given in and taken some pictures of me. These were taken at 36 weeks 3 days. Today. My head is not pictured because I look like crap today. Yes, my mirror is dirty. No, I don't care.

The little bugger gets bigger and bigger every single day. I cannot wait for him to come out. Only, yes I can because I am so not ready for him to come yet. I have for him so far a swing, a tub, clothes and...roughly that's it. My mom has said she was ordering me a crib, but I have yet to see it. So if he is born anytime soon he will be sleeping in his swing.

So Sarah, this post is for you. Bribe me and ye shall receive. Sears is also fine, yes there is one here and actually I registered there. I was promised a shower by someone here and she never actually came through even though she told every one that she was going to do it. So I made a registry for nothing. Or for my benefit I guess. Whatever.

Enjoy the pictures. Don't laugh too hard. And if you do, don't tell me.


My poor poor tattoo. It didn't know what it was in for. You can also see that my belly button is popped. Pretty.

An open letter

To the old man in the purple car with veterans licence plates;

Dear sir,
Thank you for everything you sacrificed in going to war for our country. It is very much appreciated and I mean that. From the bottom of my heart.

However, it is generally not accepted practice to pull out onto a highway in front of a car going highway speed, and not having looked. I really thought it was fun to have to swerve into the ditch to avoid hitting you since you were aimed at my side of the car.

You should consider yourself very lucky that I am 8 MONTHS pregnant, otherwise I would have destroyed your car (and mine for that matter) and not have cared at all about how much that would scare the crap out of you.

You are also very lucky to have not pulled over and stopped at all before I turned to go to my Dr's appoinment, otherwise I would've got out of the car and reamed you a new one. And with my temper lately, you wouldn't have wanted that. I can be one scary bitch. Ask my husband.

I also really enjoyed that since my horn doesn't work, you didn't even know that you nearly killed a pregnant woman. Didn't even know I was there. So, thank you.

Asshole.

*****************************
I used to be very lenient towards old people keeping their licences. Especially those who put their lives at risk in the war to protect our country. Veterans had a special place in my heart and I felt we should give them a little leeway.

I can stand the slow driving, lack of signal use, and occasional lane weaving. However when they pull out across a lane of traffic onto a highway in front of a car going 100km/hr and never even notice, there are some steps that need to be taken against your right to hold a driver's licence.

Just because you risked your life many many years ago, does not mean you now have the right to risk my life and that of my unborn child. And everyone else on the road for that matter.

*****************************
PS As you can tell, I made it back from Jamaica without incident, and am still incubating this little parasite.

PSS As you can also probably tell, I am so done being pregnant at this point. His eviction notice has been served.