Saturday, November 9, 2013

Pregnancy..Keep Your Eye On The Prize

Let me start out by saying that I have two children. I had my oldest, a daughter, 9 days before I turned 21 years old. I was young and totally in shape when I found out that I was "in the family way". Let me just say that the totally in shape part disappeared just about as fast as the plus sign appeared on the stick declaring my condition.

The nausea set in immediately and before I knew it there were splotches all over my face from being physically ill along with a rash that appeared suddenly. The doctor informed me, with nonchalance, that the rash was just something that happened to some people during pregnancy. Well..Lucky me!

As the months past I developed many other issues such as swollen feet and hands. My doctor was also quick to inform me that hair dye was out of the question and so my roots began to show...Nice..I only wish someone had heard the word Ombre in regards to a hair style back then, because by my ninth month I would have been looking good..

I can also tell you that the wardrobe choices for pregnant women in the 80's and early 90's were seriously lacking. These clothes were so bad that in about the seventh month of my pregnancy I decided to burn all of them upon the delivery of my baby.

During my pregnancy with my son I experienced all of these same wonderful changes although this time I was much more mentally prepared for them, and I did purchase a pair of maternity overalls, a denim jacket, large t-shirts, and some Joker themed converse tennis shoes just to shake things up. I wasn't going to end this pregnancy with a bonfire.

Before the delivery of each baby I no longer even had the capability to tie my own shoes. I needed three pillows to prop up on when I slept just to maintain the ability to breathe, and I waddled like a duck.

I have to say that I was a bit surprised at the quick deterioration of my appearance the first time, since I had heard all of my life that pregnant women were beautiful. I was young and naive.

I was expecting miracles to take place. I kept looking for that glow, a special sparkle to appear in my eyes,and to be honest I was a bit excited at the prospect of finally having a bra size to be proud of.

I did develop the need for a larger bra, but it really wasn't all that impressive considering my stomach stuck out so much further than my chest.

Just when I thought that I had experienced all of the changes I could stand there was a bonus. I became prone to crying jags that came on suddenly and for no apparent reason. These little "episodes" reddened my face even more. Needless to say, they didn't do a thing to improve my new look. Like I said "Bonus" and I now know that bonuses during pregnancies may vary by individual and with each pregnancy.

I still today fail to understand why other women shared every pregnancy story they had ever heard with me, when they saw that I was expecting. So many women shared with me that I lost count. My favorites were the ones that told me absolute horror stories about labor and delivery. I mean really??? Was that necessary. I'm a smart woman. One of my very first thoughts, when I found out that I was pregnant, was "There's only one way out of this and I am not going to like it".

When labor finally started with my first child, I thought, wow this isn't bad at all. I can totally handle this. I showered, dried and rolled my hair (it was the early 80's big hair was a must), put my makeup on, and painted my nails red. I grabbed my lip gloss for later reapplications and declared myself ready to head to the hospital.

Talk about delusional. Those labor pains intensified by the minute after that, and I thought I was going to die.

I was diagnosed with toxemia and had to have an emergency c-section. They gave me some little nail polish and makeup remover wipes and told me to clean the polish off my nails and the makeup off my face, because I couldn't wear it in the operating room. Well within seconds I had raccoon eyes and that red nail polish was everywhere. It was smeared all over my nails and my fingers...and I had gone from thinking appearance was everything to thinking I'm dying who gives a fat rat's rear end just cut me.

I experienced a very difficult miscarriage about 3 years after my daughter was born, and then My next baby, a son, was delivered during a scheduled c-section...a much better gig if you can get it.

There are many discomforts that come with pregnancy, several of which, I failed to mention here, but each and every one of them are worth it!!

If you are in "the family way" my advice to you is not coco butter for stretch marks or peppermint for nausea...it's simply this:

Keep your eye on the prize....and for God's sake don't ask any questions about how resilient your body will be after delivery..or if stretch marks ever completely disappear...the answers to those questions are not important sugar...No ma'am...Not at all.

You are going to look beautiful after the delivery...absolutely beautiful...eye on the prize girl..eye on the prize.....

Friday, November 8, 2013

Rowdy On River Street

Awhile back I mentioned to one of my best friends that I had been dying to get to the beach so that I could see and hear the ocean. She, being her usual sweet self, surprised another friend of ours and myself, a short while later, with a weekend trip to Savannah and Tybee Island. The three of us always hung together, in fact one of our husbands nicknamed us "The Pearl Girls" because we all love to be together and love ourselves some pearls. We have been friends for years so I knew that we were going to have a great time.


We left bright and early and before long we were in Savannah checking into our hotel. My friend had booked us into a very nice hotel and our room overlooked River Street. The view was wonderful. We got settled into the room and then decided to change our clothes and head over to Tybee Island so that I could get my toes in the sand.


Everything was going along smoothly. We were on the beach mashing our faces together and taking pictures of ourselves with our cell phones, laughing and writing our names in the sand, and then one of my friends mentioned casually that she would like to have a drink with alcohol content. Then my second friend pipes up and says if we go to a bar and get started drinking this early we'll spend a fortune.


Now I had been quiet up until that point and then I had to speak up. I said: "I have a confession." They looked at me and said in unison: "What is it?". I said "I have some liquor in my suitcase. Actually I have a very large bottle of Crown Royal, a two liter bottle of diet Coke and some glasses." I said that I knew I needed to relax and so I had come prepared with some tangible aids to help me do so.


Needless to say, they were immediately on board and we could not get back to our hotel room fast enough. Upon our arrival I made us all a drink and we made haste to drink those, and then began on refills. One of my friends opted to stop at one, but the other knocked back a glass of straight Crown before she chose to decline another drink. Myself? Well lets just say I kept it steady. I had a few drinks while I got ready to go out for the evening.


Go out? Oh yes, we made a beeline for River Street. First stop? If you guessed a bar, you would be correct. There it was. almost as soon as we stepped outside our hotel... Wet Willie's. A virtual slushy smorgasborg of frozen drinks for adults. One of my friends decided to stick with her decision not to have any more drinks, other than the one she had drank back in the room. My other friend and myself had already had just enough Crown Royal to feel confident that more alcohol would only serve to improve our evening.

My drinking buddy decided that there were to many drinks to choose from so she said for me to pick one for us. Well that wasn't a problem. I marched myself right up to the bar and ordered two drinks, appropriately named "Call Me A Cab". We drank those and nothing would do me but to decide that I needed one more of the same.


When I had secured my second Call Me A Cab, I walked over to the the policeman at the door, and he assured me that I could walk right out the door with it. This prompted me to suggest to my friends that we take ourselves outside and sit on a bench in front of the river and watch the boats go by.

There we were relaxing and talking, and of course, I was sipping my drink. Well just about the time that I had sipped it right on down to the bottom one of my friends suggested that we walk to Outback Steakhouse and eat dinner.

It was about 8:00 p.m. at the time, so that seemed like a fine idea, until...I stood up. Yes as you may have guessed when I stood up I experienced a bit of difficulty with my equilibrium. Before attempting to put one foot in front of the other one, I asked my friend where Outback was. She said (as she pointed her finger in the general direction) "It's that red sign right over there.". I responded with another question. "The first red sign or the second one?".

My friend looked at me very seriously and said "There is only one red sign.". I, having a small bit of common sense remaining, looked back at her and said "Okay...in that case, there is a policeman standing right across from me and so I'm going to need the two of you to flank me on either side, or I'm going to jail for public drunk, and it's as simple as that. You are going to have to do it because, I simply cannot phone home and inform the Lieutenant that I'm going to need bail money. They cracked up, but knew that I was telling the truth.

They did as I asked and we managed to get by the policeman, inside Outback , and were seated without incident. I remember eating dinner through what seemed like a very blissful, yet dense, fog and then we headed back to our room.

After putting my gown on, and laying myself across one of the beds I heard my friend complaining that the air conditioner had a remote control that was so complicated she couldn't figure out how to use it.

Not a problem. I picked up the phone and I explained to the front desk person that we needed assistance in our room. She assured me that she would send someone right up. Well she did, and I was in the I can't worry about my wardrobe mode by this point, and so I couldn't even manage to process that I needed a robe on before he arrived.

My friend allowed the man into the room without even suggesting to me that I should at least get under the covers. The man explained the operation of said remote control and then glanced over at me laying across the bed and said "What are you doing in bed so early? You should be out having a good time. Did you know that there is a Martini bar on the rooftop?".

I looked up at him like he had a third eye. Finally I spoke. "I said Sir, do I look like I need a martini? That is my problem now. I have already had far to much to drink. In fact, I am inebriated, but thank you!!

My friends lost it. They found my little reply very humorous. I know, because they reminded me the next morning when I felt so bad that I needed my sunglasses just to open the refrigerator for a bottle of water for my parched throat. "Cotton Mouth" I believe I've heard it called.

I had a wonderful weekend with the "Pearl Girls", hangover and all. I rarely drink but I really needed to be worry free for a change, and Only true friends stick by you when you are that "relaxed". About three months after that trip we lost one of our Pearls. The one who surprised us with the trip. These memories make me smile now and I treasure our time together! She, along with my other friend, protected me that weekend so that I could totally let go.....I love and miss her dearly..Cherish your friends and have fun!! Life is short...

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Renovating To Sell....A Story Of Survival


I have spent the past few months renovating/updating a house that my mother in law had previously been renting out. All of this with the goal in mind of putting it on the market.

The first step was to walk through the house and Make an overall assessment of what would need to be done. As I began my journey though the house I realized it was actually a tour through wreckage and disaster. Not only was the house absolutely filthy, but the renters had stolen everything that they possibly could. I had an initial reaction...it was Let us pray....

Since the house had been rented to people who had no belief in cleanliness being next to Godliness, and who also seemed to lack all moral and ethical standards, I knew that cleaning and replacing all of the stolen items alone was going to be a huge undertaking. Not to mention killing all of the spiders and creepy crawlers that had taken up residence, some of which I felt I could saddle up and possibly ride...

When I say that things were stolen from the home, I mean these people went all Jesse James during their departure. They stole the vent covers from the floor in every room, the shower heads, and even the knobs from the bathroom cabinets...Seriously??? Who does that?

As far as the unclean accusation goes let me just say that I didn't see any hope of getting the place clean even if I had a fireman's hose filled with hot water and Twenty Mule Team Borax...

I knew I needed a plan because I had no idea where to even begin. I tried to go all bibidi bobidi boo on the situation and then I thought...wrong movie. I didn't need glass slippers, I needed a mop and a broom that knew how to independently get busy. So I started yelling the names of the three fairies from sleeping beauty and still nothing...Disney be damned, I was going to have to glove up...

I left the house and made a reentry armed with more cleaning supplies than Hazel could use in a year. I literally had to suit up. Gloves, a mask, clothes that could be thrown away, a stack of lawn sized trash bags, and a few gallons of bleach and I was ready to go. Just let me say before I go any further that as far as fashion statements go, this was not a good look. I also have to add that other peoples dirt freaks me completely out...

I began by picking up the trash and then I thought I'd sweep and mop the floors. First I mopped all of the hardwood floors several times, and then I moved on to the linoleum in the kitchen. I mopped that floor five times with a brand new mop, then I had to trash it, and go and purchase another one...after mopping it about three more times I realized that I would have had better luck if I'd used a scraper. Needless to say a new kitchen floor had to be purchased.

I cleaned the bathrooms next. This of course included toilet seat replacement and enough bleach in the bathtubs to give me chemical pneumonia.

The carpet that was in all three bedrooms belonged on the street, so this was the next thing that was addressed. This can easily be explained by saying that people who don't clean up after themselves certainly don't clean up after their dogs. After ripping up all of the old carpet The next step was a trip to the flooring store. Carpet and Kitchen flooring was picked out, and then I was told that they would be out to put the carpet down after all of the painting had been done....Excuse me??? I had to walk on concrete floors for at least two weeks?? I also had to sleep in one of those bedrooms...It seemed to me, upon hearing this that the ripping up of the old carpet had been done a little prematurely...

During all of this time I had painted what seemed like EVERYTHING in the house, including the real kicker for me, the kitchen cabinets. I had painted so much that I was head to toe in paint of all shades....I looked like a walking Valspar sampler.

The thought of more painting and the concrete floor thing had me ready to turn myself in as crazy. I'm not a complete princess but at this point there were definitely a few tears. I was working myself sick and covered in paint every day of what now had become my life..a few times I'm pretty sure I developed a glistening on my skin that I could call sweat, if I wanted to use vulgar words. At one point I looked down at myself and thought...Dear God..it's like Alice In Wonderland..I fell in a hole and landed in something akin to the twilight zone, and I am never going to get my life back.. I'm just saying I haven't had my pearls on in months...There ought to be a law...

I am happy to say that the worst is over as far as manual labor goes, the house is staged, and within a week should be on the market...

Am I anxious for it to sell??? Well, I have said that I was going to stagger to the top of the hill out front and wear a sandwich board with the spects listed on it, while parading myself back and forth until I have a taker.....I'll probably even wear my pearls....










 
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