{ shope.ism }

This friend of mine had the idea to sell tshirts relating to this tea party thing that's been going on. So he set up an LLC and found some distributors and asked if I'd design the shirts. To which I said, sure. Why not? So I designed a couple shirts, and got a website up and running to sell them in exchange for a cut of the profits.

So I've spent the last three days up to my earlobes in tea party, right-wing extremist craziness. To be fair, I'm not a liberal. I'm a big fan of capitalism and the free market and think it's dumb as hell to prop up companies that got themselves in a mess in the first place (GM, I'm talking to YOU). However, these right-wing conservative crazies scare me just as much as Nancy Pelosi. I've definitely gotten to interact with some scary rednecks who give the right-wing conservatives their back-woods, gun-toting stereotype. One day over drinks I'll tell you about some of the emails I've gotten this week. It's really frightening.

The ugly truth is, I really like to be a "moderate" fence-sitter and not get involved. And this is the opposite of that.

But, like a good capitalist, I am joining right in with the crazies to make some bank. For the record, I only designed the smiley teabag - somebody else did the angry shirts. Check out the site: www.teabagwashington.com.

I just had a conversation with the counter guy at the gas station that ended with him saying to me, "In Texas, it's so hot you gotta walk around in your bikini or bra. It's too hot for clothes. You'd like that, wouldn'cha."

Didn't see that one coming.

Hayes got shots this morning which he handled well. He cried of course, but by the time we got to the front desk he was fine again. The ensuing stiffness not so much. He's been pretty unhappy in between his naps today. Fortunately the baby Tylenol has knocked him out a good bit.

Hopefully this foray into IV drug use will [emotionally] scar him. Is it weird that I'm opposed to Judgement Houses that scare you into Christianity by showing you the horrors of hell, but I think that every teenager in America should be forced to watch Requiem for a Dream at age 12? I guess that's how the Baptists feel - fear is as good a motivation as any.

Anyway, I stopped at the gas station to get a giant ice cream Snickers bar, because this day has warranted it. Guess that's a perk of being a parent. Whenever somebody gets a shot, you get ice cream. Works for me.

I officially get the parent thing now. Against all rationale, I completely believe that I have the sweetest, most brilliant, wonderful, best looking child on the planet. Because it's true.

Anybody know about canine laws? Can I shoot one if it's threatening me on my property, just like a person?

This morning I was in my living room, on the front of the house, when the guy down the street let his dogs out to run in the neighborhood. He does this every day. The guy has company staying at his house, so there were three dogs instead of the two who usually live there. Well I see them right outside the window, and one squats to poop. So I opened the front door and yelled for it to stop. The other two dogs (the ones who live here all the time) came running up the steps on my front porch growling at me. Very aggressive. Of course I shut the door. The owner heard me yelling and started calling the dogs, but of course the squatting one wasn't going to stop mid-poop.

The owner did walk over and pick up the poop, but that was only because he heard me yelling. He lets his dogs out in the neighborhood twice a day because "he doesn't want all that poop in his backyard" (HIS words). I did not go out and talk to the guy, because having a confrontation in the front yard with my sleeping kid inside and no one else around seemed like poor judgement.

Letting your dogs poop in everybody else's yards is one level of dickhead; letting your aggressive and therefore possibly dangerous dogs run loose is another.

Stupid asshole.

You know how LJ will remember something you typed and ask if you want to restore from a draft? Well this is the last thing it remembers me typing:
--
Today is my due date and I am fucking miserable. My left side just below my ribs is shooting pain pretty much constantly. I've woken up the last two mornings almost unable to breathe because of the pain. Wednesday I still wasn't dilated, so they scheduled an induction for Tuesday morning. I'll have to check in tomorrow afternoon and spend the night.

So on my last day as a free woman, I've been sitting/laying/walking around in pain. It sucks. And the rest of the week isn't looking any better. Since I'm now scheduled with a check-in time, every inch of my family will get to be there with me from the minute I go in the hospital until the time I leave. And their plans do not include leaving at any point in time - the last baby born in Rory's family was born just after everybody left to grab dinner because supposedly nothing was going to happen.
--

God, I am so glad I'm not pregnant anymore.

So...I feel like I should post something un-baby-related so I don't bore the crap out of you.

Larry Langford is an idiot.

I'm starting to do some work again, which is nice because I like having some spending money.

And now I have to go because somebody is being bitchy. Like it's MY fault he poops on himself.

Tomorrow is Hayes' two week birthday. It feels to me like he's been here forever, but Rory thinks it feels like no time at all.

The difference I think is that I'm the one feeding the little boogerbutt every three hours. My milk did in fact come in (on day seven), so I'm nursing. However I'm still not quite producing enough to do it exclusively so I'm also giving him a bottle afterward. AND pumping. All that takes at least an hour, and he eats every three. So I don't do much else in my day.

What I do know is that there's nothing on tv in the middle of the day. Even HGTV gets boring. So one day this week I'm headed to the library. I'm thinking about looking for something about being the mother of a boy, since it's kind of on my mind these days. But I'm scared of parenting books in general and especially gender-specific stuff. I thought Wild at Heart was horrendously offensive and cheauvanistic. Any other suggestions?

It's 3:45 am and I'm drinking a beer because Google told me to. (You may want to skip this if you're uninterested in breastfeeding.)

( Read more... )

So here's the story on Hayes: last Monday I checked into the hospital so they could start dilating me, because I wasn't at all. I was slightly nervous that they wanted to induce me so soon after my due date, but I trust my doctor. (Samuel Gray, fwiw.) As of Tuesday morning I was about 3.5 cm, and they started the hormone that causes contractions. By noon I was having contractions, and an epidural, but had not dilated any more. So Dr. Gray told me he thought it was a really big baby and we should do a c-section. To which I agreed, because hell, I already had the epidural going on. They could have amputated my head for all I cared.

In retrospect, if it had turned out any differently I would have been irate at how things went down, but fortunately Dr. Gray knows his shit. Hayes was 9 freaking pounds, and if I'd waited another two weeks I would've still had to have a section. And have been much more miserable. I may be taking the man some brownies at my next checkup.

The only real speedbump so far was Friday night. I have this insane arrogant streak that sometimes makes me think that I won't struggle with things that other people struggle with. For example, I was feeling good Friday morning and thought to myself that I might not have any hormonal "baby blues" at all. Then I found out my child wasn't getting enough to eat, and spent the rest of the day distraught because I was a horrible mother and couldn't perform the one biological function he relied on me for and he probably hates me and THE SKY IS FALLING. Irrational, much?

After that one night though, it's been much better. I'm back to normal brain function; i.e., NOT attributing rational thoughts and adult emotions to a week-old infant.

So the kiddo's healthy, and other than the fact that feeding him stresses me out, he's really handling life in the world well. He's sleeping like crazy and even on a semblance of a schedule - which basically means we can predict his actions, not that he does anything because we want him to. Par for the course, right?

So far no change - still looking like I'll be on time. Yay!

When I went to the doctor this morning, I also had him look at my index finger - I got a blood blister last week that I popped, and since then it's looked really horrible an hasn't healed up at all. So I figured it was infected.

HOWEVER, as it turns out, I have on my finger what's called a "pregnancy tumor." No lie. It's a random collection of blood vessels that hurts like hell and bleeds profusely and goes away after the baby's born. If you have a strong stomach, you can google it and see what the worst case scenario is. He gave me a dermatologist's name and I'm seeing her tomorrow anyway, just because going into the hospital with an open wound on my finger sounds like a great way to get MRSA.

I "interviewed" a pediatrician today and really liked her. I've got one more appointment with Rory's pediatrician, and I've heard he's good too.

While I was in the "well child" waiting room before my appointment, I realized one more way being a parent will be difficult. As I was sitting down, a 3-4 year old girl in the room zoned in on me and started asking her mom, "what she doin?" The mom of course said "sitting down," and the next thing I know the little girl is next to me. No big deal, right? Well I was rummaging through my purse on my lap, and the little girl started peering into my purse. So I'm kind of talking to her, and then she stuck her hand in my purse and grabbed my wallet. I started telling her she couldn't have that because I needed it to drive, and as I'm holding onto the wallet and she's pulling, with her other hand she begins prying it open. So I finally had to actually remove her hand from the wallet and get the whole purse out of her reach. Fortunately about that time she got called back.

The whole time this was going on, the mom was mildly saying things like "No, you can't have that, she needs her wallet," etc., but never actually made a move to do anything about it.

I have the feeling becoming a parent is going to make me much more assertive.

If YOU had to spend a few days in the hospital to have a person removed from your uterus, what would you pack? Difficulty: the epidural means less screaming but more opportunity for boredom.

I'm told all the necessary medical/baby stuff they provide. Like diapers. And some really sexy underwear.

Christmas stuff:
Got great presents - a Sony DSLR A300, some art prints, baby stuff, and an overnight bag that I've been pining over. Also got pjs and a robe, which is (they tell me) all I'm going to be wearing for several weeks after the kid.

Got to see lots of old photos from both sides of the fam. I know we all grew up in the 80s, but I never cease to be amazed by just how similar childhoods/family photos are. Gold shag carpet, wood paneling and plaid furniture EVERYWHERE.

The days at the farm (my inlaws') were spent lying on the sofa reading books with either the outdoor channel or TRU TV in the background. If you would like me to describe to you the Smoking Gun's 100 Dumbest [insert societal subcategory here] I'd be glad to, because I've seen ALL OF THEM. There is nothing like being at the farm, because there's nowhere else I can spend 18 hours a day on the sofa with no obligations whatsoever.

On Friday when we got to Dothan, my three grandparents were there. The first words out of my paternal grandmother's mouth were, "I'm wearing your dad's pajama pants because I've got diarrhea so bad I've messed up all my other clothes." I kid you not. And have you ever experienced the phenomenon of "walking farts?" Every time she took a step there were sound effects. Contrast that with my other grandmother who is the queen of prim and proper, and you can imagine that it was a hilarious weekend. Chevy Chase doesn't hold a candle to my family.

I am SO grateful that my mom has learned not to take things seriously - when I was younger she had these ideal holidays in her head, and anytime something didn't line up with her expectations her world came crashing down. Therefore the rest of us walked on eggshells. But nowadays she can laugh at just about anything. Which, again, given that she had both of my grandmothers in her house for several days, is a Christmas miracle.

Roreo found out last week that his company is giving him a bunch of new accounts, which will ultimately mean a payraise this coming year, and a substantial paycheck in March (about the time I'll have been off work for two months). Woohoo!

Baby stuff:
Cletus gets the hiccups almost every morning. Has them right now, as a matter of fact.

There are five weeks to go, and I'm told this when my body will blow up like a balloon. But it's the best thing about digital cameras these days - I can delete any photos where I have a double chin and they'll never come back to haunt me. So there will be a mass editing of the photos come February 2.

I am getting a little, not stressed, but nervous I guess, about getting everything done before the kid. We got come-home-from-the-hospital outfits this weekend. That was a big one to mark off the list. It's a lot of pressure to pick out a kid's first clothes. They'll endure those photos forever. So what we wound up with are teeny sack thingies (they call them layettes, I think) with matching hats and booties - a pink set and a blue set. Not very exciting, but it's done.

Did you know there is an entire baby vocabulary out there known only to mothers? This weekend I learned that "smocking" is where you put thousands of tiny gathers in the fabric that covers your child's chest, so that when they puke it soaks into a million tiny crevices. And it's a big freakin' deal in south Alabama. When I figure out why, I'll let you know.

They also sell newborn-baby sized Wallabees, which I think must be a Dothan thing. I'm sure there were newborn-sized Patagonias and Sigma Nu t-shirts in the mall as well.

Have I told you our latest name choices? The boy name is currently "Hayes Lee," both of which are Fowler family names. The girl name is still McKinley, which is a Shope family name. Still need a middle for that one though.

Hope everybody had a good Christmas! Drink a beer for me on NYE.

Today two people at Urban commented on my pregnancy. Guess which one was more appreciated:

"Girl, what happened to you? You look like you exploded! You just BLEW UP."

"You seem like you're getting a little taller. "

I just had a guy ring my doorbell, hand me a roll of wrapping paper and a door-hanger, and tell me all about this carpet cleaning business. Before I could even give him my "we have hardwoods" excuse, he motioned behind me and said that they clean hardwoods too. Then he asked if he could come in and take a look at my "high traffic areas."

(No comment.)

So I told him that now was not a good time, with Christmas coming up we would not be spending money getting our hardwoods waxed right now. But I would hold on to his info (on the door hanger) for whenever we did decide to have them cleaned.

Then he told me he'd come back by after the first of the year and took the wrapping paper AND the door hanger back away from me. Apparently the wrapping paper is a gift for people who let them quote your carpet cleaning today. But taking the door hanger? With your phone number and contact info on it? How freaking weird?

At 6:30 this morning my cell phone rings, showing a 205 number on the caller ID. I didn't recognize the number, so I answered the phone thinking I was going to chew whoever it was for calling so early. (Since I work from home I have learned to relish screwing with the sales people who call all day long.)

When I answered the phone I could hear car noise (which I decided later was a bus) and kid noise in the background. I said hello a couple of times with no response, and then what sounds like a 5th grade boy yells "You're a sucker!" and hangs up.

It's a lot funnier now than it was at 6:30 this morning.

Of course the phone rang again almost immediately, and of course I just let it go to voicemail. The kid called me a total of about twelve times from two different numbers, and left three messages telling me to bring him some pizza. The last time he actually said "Ginny, you better come back and bring me some pizzas!"

I called Rory to tell him about it, because he was a big prank caller when he was that age. This is what Rory and his friend Matt used to do to people: They'd call a random number, and say "Mom, I'm at the skating rink and I'm ready for you to come pick me up." Of course, the person would tell him he had the wrong number, so Rory would use a very sad voice and say that it was his last quarter, and could they please call his mom and have her come get him? Which, of course, any self-respecting person would do. And then Rory and Matt would give her another stranger's number to call. Then they would hang up, and call back to see if the line was busy.

Can you tell that was 20 years ago? Pay phones were a quarter, nobody had cell phones, and nobody had call waiting.

Anyway, I looked online and it would cost me $5 to find out who owns the cell phone they were calling from. Part of me really wants to pay the money and have about 10 pizzas delivered to their house tonight.
Then who'd have the last laugh?

I'd like to let you know that there is a used tattoo machine, with all the ink and everything, for sale on the Florence craigslist. Emily Rhodes, I'm looking at you. I bet it would really step up the face-painting station at next year's fall festival.

One of my old youth (who's now about 14) just put as her FB status: Emily is thankful that God is under control. That cracked me up. Even more funny is that I'm pretty sure it's code for "I just KNOW God has not lost his mind and let that Democrat win." Kids - so passionate, and yet so unable to vote.

My mom works at a Child Development Center at one of the hospitals in Dothan. She's the assistant director, and has been there for 17 years. One of the reasons she's perfect for the job is that she doesn't take herself too seriously. Today being Halloween, she had to wear a costume to work. Last year she found a pig mask in a thrift store, and wore it with a pink leotard and tutu. Everybody loved it.

This year she decided to use the pig mask again but wear a flannel shirt and overalls, and carry a basket with a hammer, home improvement book and a brick. (Also, points for finding two non-nightmare-inducing uses for a pig mask.) This is the email I got from her this morning:

"So far, most of the kids think I should build my house out of wood. They just like it better. However little Jabian Davis looked in my basket and said, “uh-uh, she need to use that brick. A wolf can blow that wood down.” He’s been the only one that got it."

And on the subject of my mom and her sense of humor, she went to Walmart yesterday to get some groceries for this weekend. (Me, Rory and the Fowlers are coming down to go to the fair and staying at their house.) So she's got her basket filled up and has, underneath, a case of Diet Coke, a case of Diet Mountain Dew, and a SUITCASE of beer. I did not know that a 24-pack was called a suitcase, but whatever.

At any rate, she's in the produce section at the front of the store with all her stuff, and this lady walks over to her, leans in and says, "Ma'am, do you know those drinks you have all contain aspartame?" To which my mother replies, bewildered, "Um, yes?" The woman goes on to tell her that they say you should just have a regular Coke, that it's not as bad for you as what's in all that diet stuff (no mention of the SUITCASE OF BEER). Mom just kind of smiled and nodded and the woman finally went about her business. She said that in retrospect, her response should have been, "Yeah, but when you mix it with Jack Daniels it kills all the toxins."

This may be the one time I would choose something else over fair food, but alas, I will be in Dothan tomorrow night.

So if any of yall are interested, here's a BOGO entree coupon for McCormick & Schmick's. Mmmmm...steak and seafood.

http://www.bargainist.com/deals/2008/10/mccormick-schmicks-bogo-free-entree-printable-coupon/

There's this show that comes on some obscure dish channel called "Tiny Tots for Jesus." Something about that creeps me out, but I can't put my finger on why.

I've seen this linked several times in the last week or so, but just watched it. It's pretty freakin hilarious.