Preppy Girl's Guide

Okay, I was tagged by Sherri a long ass time ago to do this so here goes:

What were you doing 10 years ago?

Ten years ago... was... 1995 and... oh God I feel so old. Here's the sad part - I had just gotten a promotion and was making more money then, than I am now. OUCH.
Ten years ago I hadn’t met my husband yet and had actually become resigned to the fact that I might be single and childless for the rest of my life. HA!
Ten years ago I was living in a SWEET apartment with two other girls in Fort Lauderdale. It was a 3 bedroom, 2 bath with a huge kitchen and living room. Probably the nicest kitchen I will ever have. Again, sad.
Ten years ago I had already gotten all three of my tattoos. Ah youth.

Where were you five years ago?

Five years ago I was very newly wed and also very newly pregnant!
Five years ago I was still in my twenties.
Five years ago I was so physically "in-shape" I'd get up at 5:00 am to run about 3 miles before work. Who was that person?

Where were you one year ago?

One year ago I was stressed out (nothing new).
One year ago I had just completed my Bachelor's degree (I was on the 15 year plan).

What are your five favorite snacks?

1. Ice Cream
2. Popcorn
3. Cookie Dough (uggh).
4. Chocolate Pudding
5. Oreos in milk

What are five songs that you know all the words?

1. The Copa Cabana - Barry Manilow (1st pop song I learned)
2. These are Days - 10,000 Maniacs
3. Rocky Mountain High - John Denver
4. Sugar Magnolia - Grateful Dead
5. All the Hi-5 songs.

What are five things you’d do with 100 million dollars?

1. Pay it all off!
2. Open a theater - maybe restore a theater!
3. Build a dream home
4. QUIT MY JOB (goes without saying I guess).
5. Help those who really need it!

What five places do you like to run away to?

1. Key West
2. My living room when no one's home
3. My Dad's house on the lake
4. Shopping - even when I have no money.
5. I drive around and look at houses

What are five things you would never wear?

1. a thong bikini
2. a mohawk
3. panty hose with open toed shoes
4. Nipple ring
5. I hate navy blue and black too Sherri!

What are your five favorite TV shows?

1. Arrested Development
2. The Office
3. Extras
4. Entourage
5. Sell this House/Designed to Sell etc.

What are your five biggest joys?

1. My kids
2. My hubby
3. My family
4. Having nowhere to be (never happens)
5. Lying in a pool with a cold drink.

What are your five favorite toys?

1. Digital Camera
2. My cell phone (it's fun!)
3. The DVR (digital video recorder)
4. Satellite Radio
5. PS2 Karaoke!

Five people to pass this on to:

I dont' think 5 different people even read this blog.

Just some quick pics from the big day!

So I was thinking a little more about that fateful day two years ago (see previous post) and thought I'd share.

Once at the hospital it took what seemed like an eternity for them to see me. My husband was having a hard time getting me inside (again, huge and heavy) he ran in for a wheelchair then the fun began.

I was wheeled in, asked about 10 questions and then told to wait. Wait? I felt like my foot was about to fall off. But wait I did because what the hell else can ya do? I was wheeled to x-ray at some point and asked to hop up on the table. Uhh ya. Then the tech says "Any chance you are pregnant?" I'm thinking, "This isn't a basketball under my shirt lady!" But I kindly said, "why yes, in fact, it's my due date." "Umm, wow." was all she could muster. She threw the lead apron of death over my belly and we were on our way. She came back a few minutes later and said absolutely nothing. Okay, why do they torture you like this? Just tell me already! I finally asked her after a long silence "How does it look?" "Looks like you'll be delivering in a cast!" I thought she was a little abrupt but at least I had a partial answer.

Next I'm wheeled down to some kind of "holding room." Here's where the hell began. After being left alone in this room for at least 45 minutes I get the attention of a nurse and ask if she can get my husband. She says he can't come in but she'll let him know I'm okay - mind you, this is a small town, smallish hospital and I am one of the only people in the ER on a Sunday afternoon. There are 3 or 4 nurses out in the hall talking, playing games and watching the Bills game. What's the big fucking deal?

10 mintues later a nurse "sneaks in" my husband and daughter (suddenly it's okay apparently). And I sit longer and longer. Finally my husband ventures into the hall to see what we're waiting for. "Oh, the orthopedist is on call and we're waiting for him to arrive, didn't anyone tell you?" Uh, no. So I wait some more.

This next part is the worst. The orthopedist comes in, takes one look and asks me to follow him to the cast room - then takes off. Dude, I am in a wheelchair, 9 months pregnant with what I'm assuming is a broken ankle (becasue no one has actually told me yet). But he's gone... so.. what can I do? I very slowly wheel myself down the hall and have to ask a nurse where the cast room is (the doc is long gone). She motions and I clumsily wheel through a doorway. He looks at me with that "where'd ya go?" look. WTF?

So, on my cast goes. I think he asked me where I worked and that was the extent of the conversation. Again, there is a longish silence so I say, "So... how long will this be on?" "4 weeks" he says. "And... did I break my ankle bone or...?" "Yes, it's your ankle." And that was it. He left. I later got instructions from the ER nurse on the doctor's name and where I'd need to call for a follow up appointment. Unreal.

The pain of this was almost unbearable and no meds meant no relief, uggh. I guess someone was trying to keep me off my feet for a while (okay, so I tend to overdo it sometimes - did I mention I was working full time and going to school full time too?) 4 weeks later I was fine. The doc cut off the cast (again, said about 3 words to me) and I never saw him again. Two years later the ankle is almost like brand new (with an occasional ache or pain). And the baby? - he'll be two on Sunday. Happy Birthday Pete!

I just looked over to my desk calendar and was reminded of what happened to me, two years ago today.

It was a beautiful fall day, just like this. I was 9 months pregnant - in fact, it was my due date. My husband, daughter and I decided to do some yard work. The lawn was filled with leaves and sticks and I was hoping to "jump start" some labor by partaking in a little physical activity. We were out for about an hour, and NOTHING was happening with me. Just waddling around like a penguin in sweatpants. I decided to take a little break by sitting on a small stone wall we have in the side yard. My husband was on the rider mower (which is way too small for him so it was quite a sight) and was attempting to mulch the leaves from the 5 big oak trees in our yard.

I stood atop this wall for a second (where there's a small patio) and then stepped down to sit - that's when it happened. I looked down to see my foot turned sideways and heard a "CRACK!" Oh God, what was that, WHAT WAS THAT!? Suddenly I knew. It was my ankle, and it wasn't good. I yelled at my husband, he kept mowing, deaf to my screams. I tried to motion again and barely caught his eye. He was ecstatic! "Oh Boy is this it?" he said. I couldn't even speak, shock had set in. Somehow I eventually told him what happened and he quickly scooted our daughter into car. He came back for me but I couldn't walk - there was no way - he would have to carry me.

This was hilarious. Len tried to scoop me up and was met with a rude awakening - I was HUGE and HEAVY. His eyes bugged out of his skull and I thought for a moment he'd hurt his back. "HOLY CRAP!," he blurted out. We both laughed so hard we were crying by the time we reached the car. I called my dad (who's been a football coach for many years) while en route to the ER and described the condition of my ankle. Now, my dad has always been one to downplay anything. "Suck it up" and "Just put some tape on it" are two of his favorite phrases. So when he said, "Oh honey, that does not sound good at all" I knew it was bad. He was right.

4 days later I delivered a healthy baby boy with my ankle in a cast. My dad said when he came to the hospital to visit, he didn't even need to check my room number at the desk. He just walked down the hall in the maternity ward, peeking in rooms until he saw a broken leg - then he knew he was in the right place.

That when you have writer's block, you steal from other people's blogs? I don't know, but here goes:

What Ali needs according to Google:

1. Ali needs two annual reports (because one is never enough).
2. Ali needs more sources of funds (duh).
3. Ali needs to find birth father (not quite, I've been claimed).
4. Ali needs to speak to the consumers agency to make sure we’re set to do business (I wish I did stuff that sounds this important).
5. Ali needs to get in touch with the insurance people (I'm a little busy with the consumers agency right now!)
6. Ali needs to physically leave town (as opposed to my usual "out of body" experience).
7. Ali needs to quickly detect,diagnose,and solve network problems to ensure first-rate customer service (AMEN!)
8. Ali needs an 18-inch zip to replace a broken one in a cushion (I got nothin').
9. Ali needs comfort but won't let herself be with Rafe until she knows he's not her brother (my brother always said incest is best... but who's Rafe?)
10. Ali needs to fix the HUGE bags under her eyes! (not shopping bags, unfortunately).

This was a cute steal. Next!

This is too much. The "nurse" from the previous two posts has since left me two voice mails telling me she is returning my call. Ummm, you already did lady?

So yesterday morning she calls AGAIN and I answer.

Nurse: Hi, I'm getting back to you about your son's screening.
ME: Okay, (thinking - maybe she does in fact have something more to tell me)
Nurse: Well, your son Jamie is-
ME: Wait - we already talked a couple of days ago.
Nurse: We did?
ME: Yes, we talked about my son Peter and your concerns about his speech development.
Nurse: Are you sure?
ME: I'm sure. His name is Peter.
Nurse: So we already talked and you son's name isn't Jamie?
ME: Right.
Nurse: Umm... Okay. Thanks.

Now I'm even more sure that she doesn't even know which kid is which. WHATEVER!

I finally talk to the "Nurse" (see previous post) about my son's testing. She tells me some interesting stuff:

A) The teachers in his room don't think he can say more than 6 words.
I'm like, "WTF?" Most days you can't shut him up.
B) When she pointed to a dog he said "Buppy" and she wasn't sure what he was saying.
Okay, what word sounds like BUPPY and describes a dog... Are you a "BIDIOT?"
C) They can't tell much in the 5 minute screening time so don't be too alarmed.
Uh ya, then put that in the freaking letter you send home!

I guess I've learned not to take these things too seriously. And hey - did I seriously get a sudoku spam comment just because I used the word in my last post? Let's see if I get another!

SUDOKU rocks by the way.

So they do these developmental screenings at my kids' daycare. I get a note about my son saying, "Please call me to discuss his results." There is a business card for an RN attached and a phone number. I call the number right away and get a message: "I will be out of the office until next week doing developmental screenings." Are you kidding me? Don't leave me an note like that then say you're out of the office for a week! I have a little freak out but decide maybe ALL the kids get a note like this one (it looks like a form letter).

Well... yesterday I get a similar form type letter regarding my daughter (who is two years older). It says, "Your child seems to be developmentally sound. You should be proud that you've done such a good job raising her." Okay, now I really am freaking out. I am just imagining my son (who is pretty clever for a two year old) trying to foil the lady's attempt to test him.

Nurse: Peter dear, please play with this block.
Petey: Is she serious?
Nurse: Peter, can you play with this block?
Petey: I'd better appease her somehow. I'll chuck the block at her nose.
Nurse: Oh no no, bad boy. We don't throw things.
Petey: Lady, I have a big sister. In my house it's kill or be killed.
Nurse: Peter, can you show me the doggie in this picture?
Petey: Oh please, this is so last month. I'll point to the cat to mess with her.
Nurse: Oh my, I think he's defective. NEXT...
Petey: YES! I knew I'd find a way to get rid of her. Now where's my USA Today so I can finish the Sudoku?

Seriously, I can think of about a million better ways to relay the information to a parent. Ridiculous.

I feel so blah I don't feel like doing anything. Maybe I should call this "Blah-ging" instead of blogging. How depressing.

I need a couch for my office so I can take a nap. This will be my new project. Now if I could just get cable...

Check this out: MOUSE PAD COUCH