Wits

Rose: “Mom, there’s a ton of new snow!”

“I know!”

“Mabel’s not happy about this!”

“What? Why not?”

Rose cups her hand around the side of her mouth and says, “Shoveling snow in the driveway.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

As I come downstairs, I hear Dean tell Mabel, “Saying you hope it doesn’t snow on your birthday is called ‘tempting fate.'”

“You mean like saying ‘Don’t chase us, Daddy. Don’t chase us . . . ”

“Yes, like that.”

(It’s not Mabel’s birthday today, but it’s coming up.)

Unrelatedly, how about that episode of The Office last night? Besides being very funny (although I was almost in physical pain watching Dwight demolish Jim and Pam’s kitchen) it captured some aspects of my birth experiences I’ve never seen portrayed before. In particular, the scenes about trying to get a baby to nurse were SO familiar. I cried the first time Pam finally got the baby to nurse, and cried harder when she got her actual baby to nurse. (I even found that plot twist plausible, considering the effects of extreme postpartum exhaustion. When Henry was born they briefly put him in the NICU for an IV to get his blood sugar up, and when I came in to hold him, I walked straight for the wrong cradle. I really thought it was Henry, but when they pointed me toward my actual Henry’s bassinet, he looked completely different from the baby I’d been about to pick up. It was a very shocking and distressing feeling that I might not recognize my own baby. His hospital bracelets also kept slipping off his skinny wrists and ankles, so in moments of extreme postpartum-like exhaustion I still sometimes wonder if he’s my flesh and blood. Since, you know, he looks nothing like us.) Watching the show, I also felt very grateful that the staff on my hospital’s postpartum recovery floor is mostly female. I have no idea how I would respond to a male lactation consultant–it’s bad enough having the female nurses try to helpfully shove your n*pple into your baby’s mouth.

Mabel is upstairs yelling that the snow is her Primary chorister’s fault because they sang “Once There Was a Snowman” last Sunday, and “every time we sing that song, it snows!”

Last night I was thinking that my flower bed full of crocuses would survive the snow, but that was when it still looked like it would melt off quickly. I didn’t even get a good photo of the crocuses. They sure were pretty. (Dean says he thinks they’ll survive if it doesn’t get too cold at night. Fingers crossed.)

In a feat of prophecy by our school’s schedulers, my kids already had the day off from school today. Maybe I should ask the schedulers for stock picks.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in I think I'm funny, My kids actually are funny (and sweet and wonderful), Other people are funny. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Wits

  1. marymary says:

    Your kids crack. me. up. I think they get that from you.

  2. Trina says:

    Post-partum exhaustion = me (more than once) thinking I’m feeding a baby boy in the middle of the night.

    • zstitches says:

      Ha! I kept calling Hazel Rose (for weeks) so I can see how that could happen. (Now I just routinely mix up all my girls’ names. And sometimes I call my boys by my brothers’ names, and vice versa. And I’ve been known to call my brother Tracy “honey,” but only when I was about to ask him to do something for me.)

  3. American Yak says:

    So how *are* the crocuses?

    As to the Office episode, I thought it was just splendid, not because of all the agony that show usually amounts to (and this one was especially painful), but because how it’s the *opposite* of so much crap on TV these days. I’m so tired of the representation of men and women engaging in sensual activities with the message being “it’s fun,” but no responsibility for truly good things. This one was so refreshing in that sense, because (I know, cheesy, but true!) I LEARNED some useful things about having a baby and life and what love/s** is truly about, etc. Just loved it, and loved hearing your account of watching it. 🙂

  4. Megan says:

    That picture is beautiful. Almost makes me want to live where it snows. It would be nice until you have to actually go out into it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s