My Parents Are Idiots

I guess I have long been harboring thoughts that I would one day invite my parents to view/use this blog. I don't know why.  I just thought it might happen some day.  So I have tried to curtail the cursing/writing about things that they might find inappropriate.  But both of my parents are acting like dipshits, so I'm just going to write this.  All quotations are actually paraphrased.

Mom:

Even though my mom lives in North Carolina, she continually tries to manage things in this city.  She really wants me to get Edith over to see Grandma.  I don't really mind this.  I know I have to take her over there from time to time, and I like visiting with her, and giving her the chance to see Edith.  But this is how it goes:

Tuesday:
Mom:  "You should really get Edith over to see Grandma.  She hasn't seen her since xmas."
Me:  "Wow.  That has been a long time.  I'll try and get her over there soon."

Wednesday:
Mom (in with email about other stuff): "When do you think you'll be able to get Edith over there."
Me:  "Oh - I'm hoping to take her over on Thursday.  Chelsey is hanging out with a friend that night."

Thursday:
Mom:  "Have you been able to confirm whether you are going over to Grandma's tonight?  I can let her know."
Me:  "Well we'll see.  The temperature has dropped like 10 degrees.  Chelsey might not want her going out tonight."
Mom:  Completely understand.  Just let me know and I'll let Grandma know."

(Mind you, at no point in all this do I have an intentions of letting Mom know so she can let Grandma know.  Because that is dumb.  I can just call her before I head over.  She's not the Queen of England.  There's nothing to schedule.)

Later Thursday:
Mom:  "I went ahead and told Grandma you might be coming, depending on the weather."
Brent (in my head):  "Well that settles it.  We're not visiting." 

And we didn't.

Dad:

While he was in town for xmas, we had talked about his getting my mom and iphone for her birthday.  Nothing set in stone.  No biggie.  So last week or so, I follow up with an email to my dad and include Wendy and Chuck -

"Hey Dad, do you think you are going to get mom an iphone?  If so, let me know.  I'd like to get her some accessories for it." 

This turns into a lengthy discussion about mom and technology among us siblings, with very limited input from Dad.  He ends up saying "I will think about it, and get back to you."

Totally fine.

So yesterday is ten days before Mom's birthday.  So I send a follow-up email.  "No pressure, but it's getting close, and wondering if you've made a decision."  Nothing in return. 

I understand if he doesn't want to do it, or hasn't made up his mind.  But not responding at all?  This I do not understand. 

So as per usual, I have a mom who wont leave me alone, and a Dad who can't be bothered.  Idiots.



 

Scenes From a Delivery Room

So having a baby seems to suck.  I guess I already knew that.  But it's a much more visceral suckiness to watch your wife go through little moments of agony every 2-5 minutes.  She's doing a very good job of breathing through the contractions, and she's discovered cussing.  "Jesus Christ" seems to work the best.  But I hope "motherfucker" starts making an appearance when it gets worse.

Just in general, this has served as a reminder of how unrestful hospitals are.  This seems like the regiment they should employ in prison.  Wake you up every hour.  Fuck with you.  Give you drugs that make it worse.  And repeat.  I realize there's not a better way to do it, but it doesn't help matters to be sleep deprived and having labor pains.

The nurses are all nice though in their own way.  Our night nurse was a little annoying.  Our day nurse seems like she has more on the ball.  She calls us both by name, and she's very familiar.  And not in a "let me share some stories from my home life" familiar.  I hate those nurses.

There is so much pudding here.  It's amazing.  But no spoons.  Only forks.  Which isn't really a problem until the end.  You can't really scrape the bottom of a pudding cup with a fork.  We did have a nurse track down some spoons for us.  We now call her "Spoon Nurse."  Which is a shame because her real name is Candi.  And nurse Candi sounds like a porn name.

Chelsey is doing really good.

King Edith Shows Face (Sort of)

Based on yesterday's doctor visit, sounds like Edith is still a week or so off, but we finally got some decent pictures of her. Do these look good to you? They look good to us. But we go to ultrasounds every week, so we're kind of used to the figuring out what's going on in the pictures.

The first one has her face, and what looks like her arm in the way. It actually looks like she's getting ready to flip us off, but I assume that is not the case.

The second one is more of a profile, but it looks like she is no longer flipping us the bird, so that's nice.

The third one finds her looking pissed off in general.   

Again - they look great to us, but if you can't see it so well, don't feel bad. We've been looking at these types of images for like 2 months now.

And we're both losing it a little.

Because I want to be like Kent, but better

Yesterday I was carrying a box downstairs and missed a step.  I landed awkwardly on on the side of my foot and twisted my ankle around in a bad way.  Then I fell down the stairs. 

My first thought was "Oh, shit.  We're having a baby, and I just broke my ankle." I let out a scream of frustration and pain.  Chelsey came down to check on me.  I was trying to not throw up.  Then I threw the box at her on accident while I was trying to clear a path. 

But I was able to put weight on it.  And even though is swelled up like a grapefruit, I think it's just sprained.  So I am now officially hobbled for the arrival of this baby. 

But at least I didn't break my ankle.  Right before I moved from Atlanta to New Orleans. 

30 Day Music Challenge - Day 3

Song That Makes You Happy

Also very difficult. I have many to choose from. And it's hard for me to discern happiness from amusement, and I feel confident there's going to to be a "Song that makes you laugh" category at some point. So I will go with Elliott Smith - "Bled White".  There's nothing intrinsic to this song that makes me happy.  But I've been listening to it for as long as I've known Chelsey.  And in that time, I can always count on her to sing the Ah Ah Ah Ah part at the 2:00 mark.  No matter what she's doing.  She always sings along to that part.  We can be in the middle of an argument.  It doesn't matter.  I probably just ruined it for us both, but that's one of my favorite Kosterpelding things. 

It also has an F-bomb in it, which would have to be a prerequisite for any song that makes me happy. 




Kent's song.  I actually considered this song too.  But then I started thinking of other songs on that album and realized that I might enjoy "Bottle of Smoke" more in that way.   And then I was like "Do I even own that album?"  And I decided to look elsewhere.




Chuck's pick.  What I love about this song is that for the longest I had a copy of this album that didn't include this song.  So to find out that there was yet another song on this album that I already loved.  And then to find out that it was the best song on the album.  Well that was a really great feeling. 




Chelsey's song.  Just like with the other three, I have a connection to this song.  Peter Ryan and I used to sing it to eachother with great expresssion back in New Orleans.  Now he's dead.  But that's one of my favorite memories of him.



Wendy's entry.