Huzzah!

I just like the picture below. The wee one cracks me up when she waves up her hands. This was taken at the Livery in downtown Benton Harbor. It was one of our pit stops on the way to Chi-town in May for the Donnelly baptism starring Jason as The Godfather.

Get Neil in NOW!!!!

The Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame is an absolute joke. The choices each year are controlled by Jann Werner and his stooges from Rolling Stone magazine. Many acts have been overlooked: KISS, Moody Blues, Genesis and Carole King has only been inducted as a songwriter and not as a singer. "Tapestry" is one of the bestselling albums of all time!

But nothing is more ridiculous than the fact that Neil Diamond is not in the Hall. The Jewish Elvis! Not even as a songwriter from the legendary Brill Street.

You may laugh at this notion, but find me a drunk college kid that doesn't know "Sweet Caroline" and where to scream the crude alteration of the lyrics. That song is even played at Fenway Park. Here is a man who has written some of the most memorable songs in the last 40 years: I'm a Believer, Cherry Cherry, Cracklin' Rosie, Solitary Man, Kentucky Woman and etc... The guy has worked with Rick Rubin. His albums skyrocket to platinum and continues to sellout arenas. How can he not be in the HOF? Only the bumbling idiot Jann Werner knows.

The Candle Black Hole

Last month, I made two attempts to purchase birthday candles for the hubby's birthday. One purchase was made at a D&W and the other at a Meijer. Something to top the Triple Chocolate Brownie tower I made for the celebration at my dad's and the Triple Chocolate Cheesecake (also made by moi) for his birthday at our house. It was a chocolate extravaganza. Both times the candles disappears once they were bagged. I watched both times as the cashier place them in the bag. However, with both times, when I got home the candles inexplicably disappear. I checked the car, garage, and the route from the garage to the kitchen. Must be a conspiracy or a hole in the space time continuum when it comes to birthday candle purchases...

Best songs ever

We've all seen the lists of the best songs of such and such and those who know me are familiar with my rantings that all lists are crap. They are just so subjective. To prove this, I am going to list the top 20 songs ever! If you disagree with my choices, I honestly don't care to hear your comments. The following is not any particular order since I am doing this off the top of my head.

1. Rainbow Connection (Kermit the Frog)
   
2. Edelweiss (Sound of Music)
   
3. All Along the Watchtower (Jimi Hendrix)
   
4. Come Fly with Me (Frank Sinatra)
   
5. At Last (Etta James)
   
6. Sitting on the Dock of the Bay (Otis Redding)
   
7. Safety Dance (Men Without Hats)
   
8. Open Arms (Journey)
   
9. Hound Dog (Big Mama Thornton)
10. Mustang Sally (Wilson Pickett)
11. Hallelujah (Jeff Buckley)
12. I Could Have Danced All Night (My Fair Lady)
13. Prayer for St. Peter (Edwin McCain)
14. Let It Be (Beatles)
15. Painted Black (Rolling Stones)
16. Goodnight Saigon (Billy Joel)
17. What'll I Do (Judy Garland)
18. Cracklin' Rosie (Neil Diamond)
19. Weekend in New England (Barry Manilow)
20. That's All Right Mama (Elvis)
    

Free the...arms?

One of the most difficult adjustments when it comes to parenthood is the loss of an arm. We're not talking amputation either. Little Audrey absolutely loves to be held...at all times. I have difficulty putting her down because within 5 minutes she realizes that she is not being held in my arms, wakes up, and starts whaling at the top of her lungs.

For most of the day she is attached to my left arm. I never knew how difficult it was to do the simplest tasks, such as brushing my teeth or taking birth control, with only one arm free. So far I have figured out how with one arm to fill & empty the dishwasher, do laundry, vacuum (sometimes I can get away with strapping her in the Baby Bjorn), clean the kitchen counters (using kiddie-safe cleaners), make a sandwich, toast and smear cream cheese on a bagel (she tends to squirm with this task) , wash out her bath tub when I bathe her solo, and put on dog collars (dogs are no longer allowed to wear their collars in the house).

As for showering, that's a whole other can of worms. That has to be timed perfectly when she naps. If not, oy, then she's shrieking by the time I begin to wash my hair.

And, I start work again on Friday without child care. This should be interesting.

Even with all that has been said in this blog post, I still love the little booger and don't regret having her.

Remembering that fateful day...

At 12:03AM on June 25, I was awaken by a searing pain in my abdominal area. This was no Braxton-Hicks contraction. Figuring that there was no way I would be going back to sleep and I had some time on my hands until I actually needed to go to the hospital, I headed downstairs into the living room to watch some TV without letting Jason know what was going on. I watched Conan O'Brien and there were some pretty lame guests on Craig Ferguson and Carson Daly. My other alternatives were Guthy-Renker infomericals or porn on Cinemax. Since I needed a good laugh, I chose porn on Cinemax. Nothing like terrible dialogue & acting, coupled with unrealistic situations to bring about sex for a good chuckle. Then I noticed "The 40-Year Old Virgin" was on, so I flipped it to that.

I was experiencing inconsistent contractions every 5 or 10 minutes. Halfway through the movie, at about 2:30, I went up to let Jason know that the real deal was going on. "Do I need to get up?" he said. "No", I replied. "Good, Jay need his sleepies" was his response and he promptly went back to sleep.

After Virgin was over with, there was truly nothing on and my contractions were inconsistent still. Might as well get some work done! Made myself a cup of decaf tea, cracked open my laptop, responded to some e-mail, and put some finishing touches on some projects I was working on. Jason rose out of bed at 6:45AM and came downstairs to check on me. He asked if he should stay home and without hesitation I told him to stay put.

Jason made me go back to bed to rest up for when the "real deal" occurred and he logged into his laptop to work from home. However, he did set-up my laptop in our bedroom and brought up a walkie-talkie to let him know if I needed anything. The day was pretty uneventful. Between naps, I did a little work on my laptop, Jason brought up my usual lunch (PB&J and a glass of water) and the dogs snuck in to catch a nap beside me. Jason spent his day working in the newly finished basement and put up blinds during his breaks.

By 3:30PM, I was getting pretty fed up with the inconsistent contractions that I called my doctor's office. They told me I needed to wait longer... 5:30 rolls around and the contractions were intensifying. They made is difficult to eat the delicious beef ravioli dinner Jason made. I never felt such pain before. There is no way to describe them, only that they absolutely suck. We started watching "Studio 60..." episodes and halfway through second one we were watching, I get up to use the bathroom. All I could see was blood. It was about 7:00 and I had Jason call the doctor and left a message. It took about 15 minutes for the doctor on call to return his phone call. But, in the end, I had to go to hospital. Finally!!!

Jason calls his mom to let her know to come out and watch the dogs. We pile into the Envoy and off we go to the hospital. Well, we had been to the hospital a few times, but Jason was in some mindset that he was going to work and didn't get into the correct lane to make the left onto Michigan. Since we couldn't scoot over to the correct lane, Jason went straight. He turned to me and asked which way he should go. "How the Hell should I know?!?! You work downtown and I don't!" And, I proceeded to call him a dumbass. Really not appropriate, but for Pete's sake! If you never been to Grand Rapids, most of the downtown roads are blocked off for construction. Jason made a few turns that didn't work out, but we eventually made to the ER entrance.

We eventually made it to the OB triage. There, we were "greeted" by a nurse and quickly began barraging us with a million and one questions. The only questions I remember were "Do you want an epidural?" Yes. "When?" Now. Then, she needed to check to see how much I was dilated, which by the way, is pretty uncomfortable. The nurse had trouble figuring it out and had to get another nurse to see how much I dilated. By 7:45PM, I was dilated to 4cm and I was officially admitted into the hospital and taken to a birthing room.

Once in the birthing room, we met our nurse that was assigned to us and she started to prep me for an IV. She could not do it to save her life. It hurt worse than a contraction! She finally gave up and the anesthesiologist, who was waiting patiently to administer the epidural, had to put in the IV. When it came to administering the epidural, it was a really uncomfortable experience. It doesn't hurt per se, just a lot of pressure against your spine until that lovely medicine makes it way into your spinal fluid. Once it takes full effect, it is one magical drug.

When you are in the birthing room, it is pretty boring. A lot of waiting. Jason made a few phone calls, the nurse came in to check on me, and I watched a little TV. Jason and I tried to get some sleep in, but it was difficult. One of the machines I was hooked up to would beep every 15-20 minutes. By midnight, I was asked to start pushing. Yeah, lets get this kid out of me!!! I would push for 15 minutes, even though one of the stirrups was broken and ultimately hurt my leg, and then I would rest for an hour. One thing they never mentioned in the pre-natal classes or the pregnancy books is the shaking. My hormones went in a tailspin and I was shaking uncontrollably. Jason was a trooper through this and had no problem being in the trenches.

At 5AM, I was visited by the doctor on call. He examined me and determined that it would be difficult for me to deliver vaginally. The baby was "sunny-side up" and my pelvic area did not expand correctly. It was like trying to put a square peg through a round hole. A C-section was proposed and I agreed. They rolled me into the OR and Jason would follow later. More drugs were administered. With Jason and the anesthesiologist at my sides, at 6AM on the dot, baby Audrey Violet was born. I wasn't able to hold her for another hour and half due to the shaking, but it was well worth the wait.

Indulging the Inner Fat Ass

It's been awhile since I've last posted something in this blog. Just had more important things to do such as sit and watch TV, read a multitude of baby-related books where I won't remember a damn thing by the time the Lil' booger is born, and trying to maintain my sanity.

One thing that I have noticed since I got knocked up by Senor Super Sperm is people want to keep shoving food in your face. Before Triple S and I decided to bring a third into the picture, I decided that when we got pregnant that I would not want to be one of those women who uses the excuse that she is eating for two to justify an extra serving of cake. Heck, by the second trimester you're only suppose to eat an extra 300 calories a day. That's it!

Now that we're 27 weeks into this, I can say I have been really good by sticking to the 300 calories, but I do have my moments. This is what I have been referring to as "indulging the inner fat ass." We all have that little voice that prods us to eat the extra cookie, order a double cheeseburger with fries, take an extra scoop of ice cream. Normally, you can suppress this voice because you know better. When your pregnant it's a whole different deal. The little voice turns into a bull horn and you have the uncontrollable urge to indulge the inner fat ass. So instead of giving Triple S a hard time for ordering 4 boxes of Girl Scout cookies from his boss, all I could say is that they wouldn't last the weekend once they crossed the house threshold. You can fight the voice and you must indulge the inner fat ass.