Oh, and I happen to be five and half months pregnant right now, but I'm already so ridiculously huge that I look like I should be giving birth any day. So when I go out in public, which is mostly Wal-Mart, countless people stop me and say with a smile, "Oh! When are you due?"
"June 26th," I reply.
Then I watch them do the math in their head, do a double-take at my belly, paste another smile on their face and say, "Oh, wow! Do you think you'll last that long?"
How exactly am I supposed to respond to that?
"No, actually I think I will die."
Or, "Probably not. I guess I'll just explode."
Or maybe when they start asking when I'm due I'll just say, "Last month. This durn baby just won't come out!"
I had just loaded all the groceries into the trunk of my super-cool '99 Honda Accord with the broken door handle and the windows that don't work anymore (yes, that was sarcasm), buckled Patience in, given her a plastic baggie of Kix cereal to entertain herself on the way home, and was pulling out of the Wal-Mart parking lot when my phone rang. It was my beloved husband, calling on his lunch break. We chatted cheerfully as I turned towards home. I told him it seemed like we had extra grocery money this week, and he said, "Oh, you should've gotten steaks for tonight!" Ben loves steak. He really would rather I only cook red meat. Every day. Three times a day. Preferably steak. He eats chicken now, but only because I convinced him that it does not make financial sense to eat steak every day. I said, "Well, I just pulled out of the parking lot, and I really don't want to go back in there." He said okay, but I heard the disappointment in his voice. We hung up, I drove a couple of miles, my conscience smote me, and I turned around and went back to Wal-Mart. He's such a sweet wonderful husband, the least I can do is get him some steak. I should've thought of it myself. Parked the car, got out, opened the back door to get Patience, and saw that she had dumped her whole bag of Kix cereal in her lap. She looked up at me with her big brown eyes and said, "Uh-oh, Mom. Mess!" Thank you for pointing that out, Patience. Cleaned it up, sweated my way back into Wal-Mart for the steaks, stood in line at the speedy check-out line which had approximately 49 other people waiting, which oddly enough made it not speedy at all, and was once again on my home to my safe haven in the country.
I got home and unloaded groceries while Patience snoozed in the car. Once I got everything inside the kitchen was a total disaster, so I thought I'd try to bring some peace to my home by lighting my new magnolia scented jar candle on the kitchen table. Candle lit, I wiped the sweat off my upper lip (I've been sweating a lot lately - very unlady-like) and dashed to the bathroom since I have to go like every 30 minutes. Well, there was water pouring from somewhere around the toilet, and the bathroom was flooded. Perfect. I snatched towels out of the cabinet and began mopping up water, then dashed out to the car to get Patience, who was now awake. I dashed back to the bathroom to find more water pouring from wherever it was coming from, and called Ben.
"Hello?" He sounded a little tense. Bad time to call. Well, how was I to know?
"Babe, I have a problem, there's water pouring from the toilet and I don't know what to do."
He sighed. "Well, I can't come home right now, I'm really busy."
My feelings were hurt. And I was still sweating.
"I didn't ask you to come home. I just need to you to tell me what to do." I think I snapped at him a little. I'm blaming the fact that I was standing in water, I was sweating, and Patience was standing in the bathroom doorway pointing and saying, "Uh-oh, Mom. Mess!" She's so helpful. Ben told me how to turn off the water to the toilet, I did it, we said good-bye civilly, and I called our landlord.
Water mostly mopped up, Dennis on his way to check on the toilet, groceries unloaded. Okay. Patience and I head back into the kitchen to put away groceries. I was deeply focused on trying to re-organize the deer meat in the freezer in order to fit the things I had just brought home when I heard Patience panicking. I looked over to see her waving around a gift card that she had caught on fire over the magnolia-scented candle on the table. I had bought the gift card for my cousin's wedding reception/shower that I would be attending the next day (if I survived this one) and brilliantly left it lying on the table next to a lit candle and a 23 month old. I didn't know she was a pyromaniac. Even so, I was in the same room. How did I not see that happening? I was still sweating a lot. Its very distracting. It keeps me from noticing when my child is catching things on fire.
I finally got the groceries put away, the kitchen picked up, the partially burned gift card tucked away with the wedding gift. Luckily it wasn't ruined. I drank a glass of sweet tea and tried to stop sweating.while Dennis looked at the toilet and snaked out the drains. Since things seemed to be somewhat under control, I decided to make a wreath to hang in Patience's room. I had picked up a few silk daisies and ivy at Wal-Mart, so Patience and I sat down at the table to work on it. It turned out nicely, and I went into the laundry room to find something make a loop on the back of the wreath to hang it. I reached for a ball of twine on the shelf, and when I pulled it off, for some strange reason bird seed flew everywhere. I jumped and yelled, because bird seed showering from a ball of twine was somehow not what I expected. Patience was standing in the doorway pointing at the birdseed all over the floor saying, "Uh-oh, Mom. Mess!" I'm glad she knows what a mess is. I just need to tell her that it isn't always necessary to point it out. Closer investigation of the birdseed mystery showed that the mice had chewed a hole in the bag of birdseed sitting on the laundry room counter and had been carrying and stashing birdseed in the middle of the ball of twine on the shelf. Clearly the battle with the mice has not yet been won.
So I cleaned up the birdseed, hung the wreath, and washed the sopping wet towels once Dennis finished with the toilet. I was exhausted. I had sweated a lot. I felt gross and large. Ben did not get the haircut I had promised him that evening but he did get steak for supper, so he was a happy man. That night I showered and afterwards he painted my toenails for me since I can't exactly reach them anymore. He's wonderful.
The next day I got all dolled up for my cousin's wedding reception. I needed to go early to help with the food. I don't have a single dress or skirt or pair of slacks that fit right now, so I've been dressing my maternity jeans up with cute tops and heels. I have this great pair of silver and white snake-skin peep- toe heels. They're horribly uncomfortable. Well, I had them on and I popped into the bathroom to go before I headed over the mountain. When I went to stand up from the toilet I felt something give under my right foot and to my horror the stiletto heel of my shoe had punched straight through the bathroom floor. Guess the floor was a little soft from the flooding. Or I'm even more huge than I realizel right now. Either way, that wasn't good for my self-esteem. That bathroom has some serious issues. Well, there was nothing I could do about it just then, so Patience, my friend Amber and I took off for the wedding reception.
I hadn't seen many of my relatives in several months, and I almost enjoyed the looks of confusion when they saw me and said, "Wait a minute, when are you due?" And here we go again. No, it isn't twins. Yes, I'll make it till June, unless I die or explode. Blah, blah, blah. Oh, actually, I know I'm huge. I'm so huge I made our bathroom floor cavel in today before I left! What do you say to that? Or maybe when people point out to me that I'm getting really big I'll just look down at my belly, let a shocked expression come over my face, and say, "Well, my gosh, would you look at that. I had no idea that was there. Thanks for pointing it out!"
The wedding reception was lovely and the food was delicious, although my shoes were a dreadful mistake. I ended up kicking them off and going barefoot. Barefoot and pregnant. I felt really good about myself (yes, that was sarcasm). As a result the bottoms of my feet were disgusting and black from walking around barefoot at the church fellowship hall. But it was fun to see everyone, Patience was a doll in her little sailor dress, and I had a good time with my friend Amber.
I don't think anything else weird, annoying, dangerous, or funny happened last weekend. I'm so glad today is Monday. How often do you hear that? But goodness, I'm tired from re-hashing the weekend. Patience is asleep right now. I think I'll join her!
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Shortly after I wrote this I dropped my phone in the toilet. Now it won't turn on. What is it with me and that toilet?
I was thinking of you earlier, and tried calling. Your voicemail picked up and I thought, "Well she must be busy, probably driving and her phone is out of range." I then thought, "Hey, I wonder if she's written a new blog." So I've been reading it... think you tried calling me back in the middle, and I answered laughing telling you how I was reading about your weekend... silence. Anyway, I continued reading to the end. The last paragraph explains why your phone isn't working, and it also looks like your blog was just posted. Thought it was all quite a coincidence :)
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