You know you’re exhausted when…
You were stuck in the hospital for almost three days with free wireless internet and you didn’t even post on your blog.
So my beautiful little Miss L arrive Tuesday afternoon after about six hours of labor, weighing in at 7 lbs. 1 oz. I’m feeling pretty good, better than I did with either of the previous births, but I’ve only slept about eight hours total since I left for the hospital early Tuesday morning, so I’m tired to the point of being kind of delusional.
I can’t wait to do some posts about my experiences and the birth story, but that will have to wait until I get some sleep. Until then, I present you with a quiz to keep you guessing about the potential subject matter for upcoming posts:
1. What was I surprised to see when I got home?
a) A living room full of balloons and a huge “WELCOME HOME MOMMY” banner
b) A lady who introduced herself as our new live-in housekeeper who my husband hired to help me for the next twelve months or so
c) A masseuse and manicurist, all set up to give me a lavish in-home spa treatment
d) A scorpion, stinging and possibly trying to eat another dead scorpion underneath it
2. How did I get through Pitocin-induced labor with a posterior baby without making a single noise through any of the contractions?
a) Tapping into my deep spirituality while praying the rosary
b) Using all those effective techniques I learned in Bradley class
c) Meditating on the Crucifixion and the meaning of redemptive suffering
d) Listening to Tupac at full volume on my iPod
e) Somehow managing to do both C and D
3. What did I learn about getting an epidural?
a) That it’s asinine to hold out until the last minute when you were planning to get one anyway.
b) That having three transition contractions while someone is inserting a needle into your spinal column is not a pleasant experience.
c) That if you have a clotting disorder the anesthesiologist will want to be sure to take the time to pull every medical record you’ve ever had and spend infinite time pondering them before giving his consent.
d) That epidurals don’t always work.
e) All of the above.
4. What TV show did I watch that made me most fearful about the future of humanity?
a) MTV’s Date My Mom
b) VH1′s Flava of Love Casting Show
c) WETV’s Platinum Weddings
d) Bravo’s Real Housewives of Orange County
e) All of the above. I’m thinking it’s time to just go ahead and let the Muslims take over.
5. When the lactation consultant asked me to describe the sensation I feel when the baby first latches on to nurse, how did I respond?
a) “Feels great.”
b) “It’s slightly uncomfortable.”
c) “Ouch, it hurts.”
d) “SOMEBODY KILL ME NOW!!!!!!”
Answers forthcoming, pending my ability to find time for a nap and my pharmacy’s expediency at filling my Vicodin prescription.
Would somebody please tell me how to turn off the "terrifying bug magnet" in my house?
Yesterday afternoon my toddler ran out onto the back porch to look for my husband. I was about to turn around and go back inside when I saw some stray toy in his path. I didn’t recognize this long black object with neon red and yellow accents it so I took a closer look. When my son was just about on top of it I realized that it was not in fact a toy, but rather THE BIGGEST FREAKING CENTIPEDE I HAVE EVER SEEN. (I did not use the word “freaking” at the time.)
I’ll just tell you right now that whatever your visualizing is not accurate. In your optimistic naïvete you are probably picturing the type of centipede you may have seen around your own house, that looks like a long worm with a bunch of fuzzy little legs. Though those do exist in our area, that is not, of course, what I saw on my porch yesterday. Because that wouldn’t be terrifying. We only have terrifying bugs at my house. Anyway, if you’d be so kind as to click on this link you’ll see a photo of the type of centipede that inhabits my property: they’re huge, with shiny black bodies; thick, bright yellow legs; a neon red head; and two long, menacing looking stinger things in the back (“stinger things” — hey, I’m not a biologist). The one on my porch was thicker than the one in that photo, and was about seven inches long. I’m not exaggerating. Seven inches.
My husband tried to see the bright side of the situation by suggesting that perhaps they eat scorpions. My glass was still half empty. As much as I would like to have some creature around that eats scorpions, I have to draw the line at giant “I thought this sort of thing only existed in Africa” centipedes. Also, it just gives the whole house a creepy feel to picture these Godzilla vs. Mothra type battles playing out on my back porch, with two freakish creatures attacking and stinging each other to death right next to the kids’ sandbox.
One thing I did take away from this situation, however, was that I am able emit a type of scream even louder and more blood-curdling than I previously thought possible. I actually never even thought of myself of the type of woman who screams about bugs until we moved into this house. I was more of the grumbling profanity type, until I saw my first scorpion inside the house. But after a few months of living in this house that is sort of a suburban freak show of the most horrifying bugs that southern America has to offer, I’ve realized that I’m actually quite a screamer, and that there are distinct levels of screams that vary by type and weirdness of bug. As I have a full thirty minutes of free time in front of me this afternoon, I shall break it down:
SCREAM VOLUME BY TYPE OF BUG
Level 1: I first used this scream when I realized that what I thought was a bird on our porch light at night was actually a massive moth. [Rather than a true "AAAH!" scream, this is more of an "Ah?"]
Level 2: This is for when one of the many little lizards that inhabits our house catches me off guard. [There was probably a time in my life when encountering lizards in my bedroom and the kids' rooms would have resulted in a Level 4 scream, but now it seems kind of charming.]
Level 3: Used for spiders larger than two inches; for when one of the four types of wasps that inhabit our front and back porches flies within two feet of me; for those times when I think there is a small wasp in the house and it turns out to be a gigantic mosquito, of a size that would probably leave me needing a blood transfusion if it bit me; and for scorpion sightings outside the house.
Level 4: Reserved for scorpion sightings inside the house.
Seeing as how the sound I make when I see scorpions inside the house is almost loud enough to wake the dead (or at least all neighbors within a two block radius), I thought that that was really the best I could do. And then I was introduced to the gigantic red and yellow centipede on my back porch by the fact that my toddler almost walked right into it, and I realized that I am in fact quite capable of a new, Level 5 scream.
If I ever see one of these things inside the house I think I might blow a vocal cord. Also, I think that that might just push me over some sort of mental threshold. I have previously joked about moving because of the scorpion infestation but…dude…if I ever, ever encounter one of these “looks like it escaped from an exhibit at the zoo” centipedes inside my house, I’m out. I don’t even know if I’d pack anything. I might just grab the kids, my laptop and any heirlooms and head for a hotel and post the house for sale on a real estate site: “Fully furnished home – lovely! – great price! – perfect for entomologists!” with a note to any realtors, “Don’t let yourself become paralyzed with terror if you see one of the massive centipedes or scorpions, just make a comment about it having ‘rustic charm’ and move on”.
I’m going to file this in the Scorpions category, because I refuse to think about the fact that our house might be infested by another kind of bug so horrifying as to require its own category on my blog.
Translation, please
A family friend is over here to watch the kids while I write blog posts
Anybody know what that means? Did she say we won a big prize or something?
I think God’s trying to tell me to call the exterminator
There’s been a battle raging the past few days between my laziness and my fear of scorpions: I really don’t feel like dealing with an exterminator visit again…yet my attempts to just forget about the fact that there is a vengeful scorpion lurking somewhere in the vicinity of my bedroom or bathroom have not been successful.
And then I hear this gem as part of the readings at Mass last night: “Behold, I have given you the power to ‘tread upon serpents’ and scorpions.”
Since my attempts to tread upon scorpions have been wildly unsuccessful, I will take this to mean that God is telling me to get the exterminator back here.
Also, nice to know that my house is infested with creatures so awful that God calls them out by name in his sacred text. I’ll have to remember this when one-upping friends with roaches: “Oh, yeah? I guess I was just thinking that scorpions are worse seeing as how they are specifically MENTIONED IN THE BIBLE and all. For all we know God likes roaches! We can be assured by Scripture, however, that he is anti-scorpion.”