The Queen's Rambles

Now that I’m using Google calendar, my days feel even more action packed than before. Probably because I am actually writing all this stuff down and seeing the busy-ness in black and white.

Today was supposed to be my “day of rest.” I only had to go grocery shopping, go to the dentist and take Erik to dance class. Easy peasy!

Then my neighbor called and the day turned into one of the most exhausting days in recent memory.

She’s about 8 months pregnant and has an 11 month old and 2.5 year old.

She was in labor.

Her husband was an hour away (or more, depending on traffic).

Contractions were coming every three minutes.

Ohshitohshitohshit.

Pre-term labor and a gaggle of kids without car seats is just what I needed to start my day.

I don’t know why I didn’t think to call 911. It never even occurred to me until much later that it would be been the proper course of action. I did not need to fear delivering a pre-term baby on the side of the freeway with three toddlers improperly restrained in my backseat, you know?

I didn’t know what else to do about the kids, so I just drove them to the hospital in the seats I had, which were all wrong for the ages and weights. I figured that if I got pulled over the police wouldn’t deal too harshly with me when I explained the situation. I was very glad it was at a quiet time of day so the chances of an accident weren’t as big. I drove very, very carefully.

Anyway, I asked my neighbor if she had a diaper bag, but she didn’t. She doesn’t have a car, so I guess she never goes anywhere. Why would she have a stuffed diaper bag? I had one diaper in my purse and no snacks at all. I did have money, but the machine wouldn’t take a $20. The staff suggested I go to the cafeteria when the kids started screaming for food. Please explain to me how people wrangle three children in public places?

If I had realized what was going to happen, I would have insisted on running into my house and grabbing a pack of crackers and some more diapers. I was just thinking “get this lady to the hospital!” not “oh crap! I’m going to be sitting in a waiting room with three toddlers for a couple of hours!” There was no way I was going to drive everyone back without proper car seats, so I was in a pickle. I hate being so ill-prepared. I figured if worse came to worse I could go to the pediatric unit. I know they have diapers and formula and other supplies for emergency situations because our MOMS Club donated a bunch of stuff to them for that purpose a few years ago. A lot of times families will come in with a child in an emergency situation and need everything from toothbrushes to underwear. I would just have to find this place and beg for supplies. The L&D would have newborn diapers and newborn formula, but I didn’t know if the formula would be appropriate for the baby. And I sure as hell know the newborn diapers weren’t going to fit any of the kids I was in charge of.

I was just a weeeeeeeeeeeeeee bit stressed.

Did I mention the two little girls don’t speak a word of English?

The dad finally arrived, checked on his wife and then drove the kids home. I kept them at my house for a little bit so he could go back to the hospital. All three girls needed a nap, but only the littlest one was able to fall asleep. It was pure chaos at my house.

I don’t know what happened with the pregnant lady. I couldn’t understand a word the dad was saying to me, but he said something about her being on a drip. Their car is home now, but I have no idea what that means.

It would really, really suck to be so far away from all your friends and support system and have a medical emergency. I’m glad I was able to help her out, but I just wish she had someone she could be more comfortable with and who could take better care of her girls. Not that I did anything wrong with them, but I don’t speak their language so they were pretty scared and confused about what was happening.

And now I am going to watch Castle! I hope it’s dreamy! Holy abrupt subject change, Batman!

I can't believe how crazy this week has been. I'm getting a new bathtub, which means we've been using our super powered tiny cubicle of doom shower. That starts the day off on a weird note. I must have my nice shower to wake up properly.

There is no such thing as a nice shower in the cubicle of doom. The showerhead has such high pressure that it practically knocks you over. Fast-forward to 4:02 and you’ve got my shower experience.

But you should see my new bathtub! It's not anything super fancy, but it is way, way better than the original! I can't wait to take a big soak on Friday.

I don't bathe my kids very often, so I thought not being able to bathe them for a couple of days wouldn't be a problem.

Hahahahahaahaha.

I must bathe them more than I thought. They were filthy the first night. Disgusting the second night. Tonight? There was simply no way they could go another night without a bath. I took my clothes off and had them get in the shower of doom. I thought they would scream, but they thought getting a beat down from streams of water was hilarious.

All this means that we have a worker bee at the house all day long. He's a really nice guy and very quiet. I don't know how he can work for hours and hours all by himself without a radio. I would be going nuts. It's just weird having another person around.

Not that I'm around much. I’m making the most of my mom’s last week of free babysitting.

On Monday I went to the dermatologist and had a full body scan done. He took off two moles–one from my knee because he thought it looked bad and one from my face because I thought it looked bad. He told my I was a very cystic person. His eyes about bugged out of his head when he asked about my laprosopic wound and I told him I had a teratoma removed.

Today and yesterday were completely insane. I had MOMS Club things in the morning, then had to go volunteer at the book fair for a few hours. Holy hell. How did I ever teach children? I can't stand to be in a room full of children. What am I going to do about a career when Elsa gets older? I don't think I can go back to that. The noise. The questions. The lies. The yells. The giggling over Justin Beiber. It wears a person out.

I met Erik's long term sub and really liked her. She gave him a packet of "challenge" math and wanted to talk to me about it. She kept telling me that if he got frustrated it was ok. He didn't have to do it. Don't pressure him. Blah blah blah.

I told her it would be no problem and that his biggest complaint about kindergarten is the lack of "real" math. I don't think she quite believed me, but she should be impressed tomorrow. He did the whole packet tonight (three worksheets that involved adding three digits together like 4+8+3). He said it was the most fun thing he's ever done in kindergarten. His only complaint was that it wasn't hard enough. I'm sure it will be a shock since he only did a couple of homework assignments in April. The fight is just not worth it. It's so hard for me to not force him to do homework because I am overly responsible, but the cost/benefit analysis leaves homework on the "not gonna fight it" category.

One of these days I will stop running around like a crazy woman. I don't know when that day will come.