Oven Toasted Goodness

This damn cold is still lingering on and on and on… I’m impatient, have I mentioned that?  I do not have patience when it comes to getting better, waiting for things, or going somewhere.  My mother says that I need to get some patience… however, this is also the woman who, while standing in a line, will make snitty comments and get nasty-huffy with the clerk.  *I* do not give clerks a hard time UNLESS they are rude, break something while bagging it, or are rude.  I served my time as a cashier/clerk for MANY years… I understand how demeaning it is to be called out by a bitchy customer that lacks patience.

I will scream at stupid people in cars while IN my car, and have, on occasion, yelled OUT the window at some mindless dumbass as they zig into my lane, narrowly missing me.  I have not HESITATED to remind those drivers that their driving is an insult, but I use… eh… DIFFERENT words that only they would understand.

Today, I’m impatient because when we all went to the phone store on Saturday, I bought a Blackberry Curve… the newest Blackberry… because it is functional, has a larger screen than my current flip phone (which I hate almost as much as stupid drivers) and a camera.  I would’ve settled for a different Blackberry, which was red and shiny, however, it didn’t have a camera.  I guess, most people do not understand why it’s so imperative for me to have a camera in my phone.  This is why:  I use it more than my regular camera, it’s handy to have in case you need to take a picture or two, and it’s fun because you can send OTHER people pictures.  I’m crippled without a camera phone… I admit that.  And, I do a lot of emailing from my phone.  Can’t do it very well with this stupid flip phone because the screen is the size of a quarter. So, since the Curve is brandy new (and we were able to secure some rebates to make it cheaper), I had to have it shipped to my house.  And, yesterday, thinking that maybe it would be sent UPS… I ended up following a truck around my neighborhood, only to be disappointed when it passed my house.  It’s really supposed to come today, so I’m hiding in the batcave for now so that I don’t stare at the door, waiting for something to happen.

Have I mentioned that I’m impatient?  And, that I’m a technology whore?

I’m an impatient technology whore.

My only concern is the QWERTY keyboard.  I am able to dial without looking NOW… and texting was never an issue until #2 son convinced me to use “word”.  Now instead of counting letters, I’m getting my words all screwed up, sending messages that have inadvertantly misspelled words in it (because of the “next” feature which I keep forgetting about).

I’m NOT my mil, who can’t figure out how to turn her phone ON.  I just need time to adapt.  Trust me, grasshoppers, give me a day and that phone will be mastered… with all of its fun little buttons and knobs.  It’s like a new adventure for me… and I need all the new adventures I can get.

So, time’s clicking away until #3 son’s kid-birthday party (next week).  Knowing that there are FOUR kids who’s birthdays surround his (three this week and one on Monday), I wanted to make sure that I secured his b-day party date WELL in advance to avoid kids having to choose which one to go to.

Weekday parties are all the rage here because a) it’s cheaper than having one on Saturdays, b) most of the kids’ moms or dads are home during the day, and c) the places are less crowded than on weekends.

My older son asked me what we were going to do for his birthday party.

“Chuckie Cheese?”

“No, that’s about an hour away…”

“The movies?”

“No, they don’t do midday parties during the week…”

“Burger King?”

“Over my dead body…”

“Roller rink?”

“They’re FOUR and FIVE… they’re just learning to walk UPRIGHT…”

“Bowling?”

We decided upon bowling only because the alley is just a few miles from town and everyone has their parties there.  As a matter of fact, #3’s party will be the FOURTH this year at the bowling alley for his class… and he’s the first BOY who will be having it there.  And, well… it’s almost like a reunion of sorts.

Five years ago, around this time, my middle son (who was my youngest at the time) was turning 9 in early June.  But, since I was due at the end of May with #3 son, I wanted to make sure he had a birthday party.  So, I arranged for a bowling party (at #2 son’s request) for he and his friends.  I don’t remember how many kids showed up that day, but I do know that he had fun.  And, after the party, we went to the diner in town for something to eat.  Three bites into my turkey wrap, I started labor contractions.  They were so hard and fast that I grasped the table with ALL OF MY MIGHT, held my breath, and tried not to grunt.  I recall an older couple staring at me with this freaked out look.  When I was able to regain use of my facial expressions, I said, “I think I’m in labor.”

You want to see people move FAST?  The couple got up and ran out the door.  My husband’s eyes grew large (I wasn’t scheduled to have my c-section for another week).  #2 son tried to eat his burger, but stopped periodically to stare at me with these big saucer eyes. 

But, I didn’t end up birthing my child in the town diner.  We were able to get home, without me squatting and grunting… and I called the doctor on-call… who informed me that I was NOT in labor.

“Hmm,” I said, “it sure FEELS like labor.”

“Your body is faking you out,” She said.  Did I mention that the doctor on-call was nicknamed SATAN by my husband and myself because she was super nasty and her head spun while she spewed pea soup.

“No, it’s not,” I said clinching my teeth and grabbing the chair backing with all of my might, “I’ve had 2 kids and I’m pretty sure this is what labor feels like.”

“You’re NOT in labor,” she said nasty-like, “do not call again unless your water breaks.”

Bitch. 

That was Saturday.

All day Sunday I felt intermittent labor pains.

Nothing on Monday.

Tuesday I had a few pains throughout the day, but not nearly as bad as Saturday.

Wednesday I went in for my scheduled dr’s appointment.  This time, it was with the NICE doctor.  I told her what had happened.  She said, “If the pains persist for a consistent amount of time, I’ll send you to the hospital to be monitored.”

Deal.  At least I know I wasn’t imaging things.

Friday came.  I was editing a man’s doctoral dissertation (a 2-year process that was PAINFUL at best).  It was after dinner when the pains started again.  THIS TIME, they didn’t stop.  I remember writing an entry during my labor… and shortly thereafter, I was at the hospital (at the good doctor’s bequest) preparing to have my baby.

So, now I’m trying to get better… am trying to not stare out my door for the UPS guy… and am preparing mentally to hostess a bowling party.

LORDY LORDY…