I am blogging about my son's overdue birth today because Nat over at Starting From Here let us in on the story of a new mom, overdue and ready to evict the little one in her, who's friend Karen is holding a virtual baby shower by letting other mothers tell their stories of overdue babies.

My son was 8 days overdue when he was born. My original due date was May 14th, 1998. After the second ultrasound they changed it to June 2. The pregnancy was typical up until the 30th week mark. At 30 weeks I began holding water like crazy to the tune of 5 lbs. a week. My doctor thought I was eating too much until I made her see that there is no way in the H to the ELL that I could gain that much from eating with a baby pushing against my stomach. Then she looked again and noticed it was pitting edema. Kind of like playdough. You push your finger against it and the print stays. Gross and uncomfortable to say the least. I was Pre-pre-eclamptic. I should have known then this was not going to be easy.
I had an appt. on my due date. Nothing happening down there. I was told to come back a week later if nothing had happened by then. When I left I bought castor oil because I heard that would help things get going. All I did was throw up. I don't know why anyone would want to drink that crap. SO then I walked, and walked and walked and walked. They took me to the La Brea Tar Pits and we walked up and down the stairs all day. Still nothing.
Exactly one week after my due date I showed up at the Dr's office. She asked me how it was going. How in the hell do you THINK I am doing??!!? I am a week overdue and 70 lbs over my original starting weight. How the hell would YOU feel? Well, I didn't exactly say THAT. I burst into tears. "Take this baby out of me!" She gave me a paper and told me to walk across the street to labor and delivery. I was induced at 12 pm and they broke my water at 3pm. By 3AM I had only dilated to 4 cm. The pain was getting bad and they told me they would come back in an hour and give me an epidural when I reached 5 cm. The next hour was a blur. When they came back I was dilated to 9 1/2 cm and they wanted me to push. That booger wasn't going anywhere. My hip bones were too narrow to push his huge head through. At 6am I was taken into surgery for a c-section and 30 minutes later I had a beautiful 6 week old boy. Ok, he wasn't 6 weeks but he looked it because he was 10LBS 3OZ 21 1/4 in LONG!!!!! Friggin huge kid! He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I was finally done. All of my hard work and pain and pregnancy suffering had come to an end. He was here. He was home. He was mine.

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So last night I became (in my son's eyes) the "coolest mom EVER" by taking him to the midnight showing of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. If I ever have the crazy notion to do that again I want someone to thump me on the head and take away my keys because-BOY, AM I TIRED! I swear my recovery time is soooo much longer. Gone are the days where I am able to stay up all night, catch 2 hours of sleep and bounce out of bed and solve complex Pythagorean equations while juggling sharp knives. Well, you get the idea. As for the boy, I had to poke him with a stick and throw food at him until he climbed out of bed. He was a bear. That was to be expected however. Anyway, the movie was really FUN! The concept was a little far-fetched, but overall very entertaining. I highly recommend you see it on the big-screen first.
We were lucky in that we went to a theater that wasn't advertising their midnight showing so we ended up being only 2 in a handful of 20 people. The other theaters were sold out and had lines. Haha! Suh-weet!
We had fun though and now my son will have a cool memory of his mom taking him to the movies at midnight on a school night, the eve of the "Last day of school!".
I'm paying for it though as I sit here trying not to fall asleep on my keyboard.
I will leave you with this though. probably one of the funniest things of the evening for me. As we were sitting waiting for the movie to start one of the kids in the very back let out the longest, most disgusting burp, and my son, the lover of bodily noises, the king of hand farts, the master of burps, shouts out, "That was uncivilized!"

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I came across this amazing video and wanted to share it. It's long, but you will be captivated. All I can say is WOW! Please to enjoy...


MUTO a wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo.

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I am going to break a parental silence to disclose something.
Sometimes I don't like my kid.
There I said it.
Please don't get me wrong,I LOVE him with a love that has no end and I would gladly lay down my life for him, but sometimes he can be a major butt head.Now before people start sending me hate mail, I will explain my feelings.
When I became a parent I was overwhelmed at the amount of love I felt for that tiny little person they handed to me in the hospital. Someone took my heart out of my body and put it into my arms. I looked at him and saw how insignificant everything else seemed in comparison. This was love. I was sure that nothing could make me not like this child. This wonderful, blessed, beautiful, angelic child. I was wrong. I have learned many things over the last 10 years. Mainly, that even though he is my child who I hold in high esteem, he is also someone who thinks for himself, has opinions, and differing views. He is a person like that.
My awareness of this began when he was around 2 years of age and we had some difficulties as any parent of a 2 yr old has.The truth is that you are not "parenting" your infant so much as you are just a "caretaker". The real parenting comes closer to age 2, and then the shit hits the fan. Anyways,back to age 2. Besides being utterly adorable with their chubby feet and hands and their sweet smiles and baby like ways,they can also be whiny, petulant, ornery, and frustrating as they struggle to assert their independence. They can be difficult and challenging to even the most patient of saints. I knew this going in having worked with kids for 5 years prior to his arrival. What I never expected were the feelings and thoughts that this little person could inspire in me and the thought that he was not my favorite person in the world at that moment, and that I didn't really like him right then. I felt immediate guilt and suppressed my ugly feelings because I reasoned with myself that you can't say that about a toddler who is only being a toddler. It wasn't his fault. It was me, and I clearly had to change my feelings. How dare I have any other thoughts or feelings other than true adoration for MY child. The guilt was horrible.
As he grew up I reveled in his achievements and supported him in his failures as he began to become his own person more and more. Every now and then I would have those same feelings again when he was being difficult and he would yell at me about how I was wrong and mean and anything else you become in your child's eyes when you put up boundaries they don't agree with. I pushed those feelings down inside myself-again.
We are in a new stage of life as he is making the break from early adolescence to pre-teen. The challenges get harder and the attitudes more prevalent. The guilt had been getting stronger. But lately I have been thinking a lot about all of this and it had lead me to some conclusions that lessened the guilt and had me breathing a sigh of relief. My child is his own person. As a person he is entitled to a full range of thoughts, feelings and emotions that will take him through this crazy world. I will not always agree with him nor he with me. He will make me happy, sad, mad, disappointed, and loved. How can he be any different than any other family member who drives you bat shit insane sometimes? He is not. Just because I gave birth to him and have unconditional love for him does not mean that I won't have feelings of dislike for him at times. I have dislike for myself at times when I make mistakes. Inevitably it is the people we love the most that can make us feel this way. I don't love myself or anyone else less just because I am mad at them. I may not want to be around them for awhile, but it passes because you forgive, and move on. Love moves on. What I think is the hardest part is realizing that your child can disappoint you. The biggest disappointment can be seeing your own faults in them that you couldn't see in yourself.
This is something I rarely see being talked about with parents, and I just felt that it needed to be shared in case anyone else had feelings like this, but felt too guilty that other people would judge them harshly. We can't do that. I cannot be the only one nor do I think I am. I see it in my friends when we talk about the tribulations that our children put us through and we joke about wringing their little necks and the like, and then we giggle and say "Just Kidding! I love my kid. I don't really feel like that. The truth is sometimes, we do. We are human. There is no shame in that. It is what we choose to do with that emotion that can make or break us.
I think my son is an amazing little boy; He is smart, witty, funny, sensitive, loving, and compassionate. My heart overflows with love for him. He is learning and growing. He makes me laugh. He makes me cry. He makes me proud. And he also makes me not like him sometimes. That's okay though because I know underneath that dislike is an even deeper feeling of love. The dislike is temporary for nothing can break my bond of love with him. Nothing. He is a person. He is my son, and sometimes he is a major butt head.

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It started innocently enough. Just one. No more. Maybe more later when I could give my full attention to him. I didn't mean to keep on with it, but I couldn't stop. Before I knew it I had him against the walls, in the laundry room, on the countertops and even on the floor. Oh yeah-on the floor. It consumed me and I had no control over it. It wasn't one sided though. He worked hard at what he did. He was wonderful and I couldn't have been more happy with what he was doing. He knew what I wanted and he delivered. I was addicted to him. The way he felt in my hands was wonderful. His grip on mine was pure heaven. He made everything appear shiny and new.
What was I doing? I couldn't do this now. I couldn't devote the kind of time he needed right now. He deserved better than me, but how could I let go? He was everything I had ever wanted and more. He made my knees weak. My hands were sore from holding him so tight. Everything in me screamed for more. For my own peace of mind though I had to let him go,but only for now. We would be together again soon when I had it in me to devote all of my attention to him. I had big plans for him. I already missed him like the flower misses the rain. I wish I could quit him.

Would you like to see him? Just scroll down to see my new love.

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My grandmother just bought a house here in Alabama after living in Redondo Beach, CA for most of her life. She wanted to be closer to us, and we couldn't be happier. For one thing, we make her laugh.

Shortly before she left my Uncle Beef took her out to a Chinese restaurant. They were discussing chinese astrology and my grandmother's horoscope said that the Ox and the Cock would feature prominently in her life this month. It got quiet and my uncle blurted out, "Yeah, you're going to meet someone named Dick!" Much laughter followed and she told us the story over dinner one night this past week.

Yesterday we met the general contractor who came out to make some estimates for some repairs on the new house. My grandmother loved him and he gave her his card and said he would call her when she got back from California.
At my mom's house later that night we were telling my mom all about the contractor and she asked what is name was.

Grandma: You have to meet him Arlene. He was charming. And his estimate was fantastic. He really knew what he was talking about.

Mom: What's his name mom?

Grandma: *She grabs the business card while putting on her glasses.* His name is Richard.

Me: DICK!!!!! OMG! Remember what Uncle Beef said?

Grandma: *Snorts with laughter* Oh my goodness!

Me: What's his last name Grandma?

Grandma: Pryke.

Me: OMG His name is Dick Prick? Call Uncle Beef! Call Uncle Beef!

Grandma: It's a sign!

LMAO...my looney family.


On the way home we had a country station playing and a Toby Keith song called I Wanna Talk About Me was on. We all laughed at the part that said, " and we talk about your grandma down in Alabama."

Me: Hey! That's you now Grandma!

Colin: *cracking up in the backseat*
That's funny! And it rhymes!

Then it came to the part that said "we talk about your medical charts and when you start."

Grandma: What did he say?

Me: He said "when you start".

Grandma: *laughs* Oh my.

Colin: * snorting with laughter* That's funny!........I have no idea what he is talking about.

hahahahahahaha

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