Kay Jewelers "First Christmas" - A Reaction

Owen turned four years old and there are all sorts of how the heck does time go so slow and so fast associated with that, but I like to instead focus on a commercial that is running the rounds this Christmas. Perhaps you have seen it, the romantic image of a new family. Father, mother and baby happily cloistered around a tree. The baby is very young, seemingly just born. The mother is bushy eyed at what is indicated to be the wee hours of the morning. The father is gleaming at his son. Now while most watch this with hearts warming, I have a much different reaction. This is because I had a baby on December 19, 2006. When Christmas rolled around, Owen was a mere six days old. I can tell you the first holiday with Owen was not so idyllic. I was battling mastitis, a breast infection. Because Owen latched improperly created a cut in which bacteria grew that resulted in a fever of 104 degrees and hallucinations. This was easily remedied with antibiotics, but I was not the only one suffering that evening. On Christmas Eve, John “felt something” on the top of his ass. What was it? An ass boil. I know this because a few weeks when we finally emerged for the daze of having a kid I looked it up. It was stress related boil (because John was pretty much under the assumption that birth for me meant death). On that Christmas Eve, I sat with a pin over a burning flame in order to disinfect it so that I could pierce the boil atop my husband’s ass. What came out was a river of pus along with a smell that only can be described as what Lance Armstrong’s balls must smell like after the Tour de France. Gut wrenching waves of a most inhumane scent. So screw you Kay Jewelers and your “First Christmas”, because I don’t remember getting a freaking diamond necklace, but instead one boob as hard as a rock and a husband whose anxiousness and stress manifested itself as a boil on his ass that under the terms of “for better or worse” I got to pop. Happy Holidays everyone!

Goodreads

The Hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


She's Come Undone is a great book, and I was excited to learn that Wally Lamb had wrote another, because I had forgot the other book at my mother-in-law's and still don't have it back. And I was almost done, which is a headache for another day. The Hour I First Believe is a fine book. The beginning can be off putting with the Columbine references and the personal history of Caelum and Maureen. But I love off putting. Its a good book, evidenced by the fact I spent the entire last 100 pages transfixed and unable to put down. I need Mr. Lamb to right more books, they always seem to speak to me.



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Five Things.

1. This morning Maggie managed to stuff the mother of all raisins up her nose which was removed with tweezers. However, she seems only to favor her left nostril, which I am pretty sure means she is right handed.

2. Owen got pushed off a slide yesterday and I came home to this:



But fear not, as Owen has repeatedly told me, “Its okay Mama. Its only paint.”

3. Cirque de Soleil’s new show Cavalia has the tagline - A Magical Encounter between Human and Horse. Really? It never crossed anyone’s mind that the slogan could possibly have other meaning? Like those related to bestiality. This is reason #1034 I will never see a Cirque de Soleil performance. I know that everyone says they are awesomely amazing so much so you won’t believe your eyes, but my eyes do not care to take part in a “magical encounter” between man and mare.

4. Having kids is really putting a damper on my pseudo alcoholism. How is possible to drink and pass out when your 20 month old daughter has decided to go bat shit crazy. For the past two nights Maggie has been a tad angry about not having a full sippy cup of water. The fact is the cup is brimming with water. In response, to her uninformed cries, you firmly state, “It is full. It is not empty.” “More, MamaDaddy. More.” “Dude, its freaking filled already.” Attempting to reason with utter insanity, you take off the top to display the water filled cup. She looks at the water, then at you, blinks and then screams “MOOORREEE.” Because you will not do this 500 times like the night before, you shut off the light and close the door. To which Maggie proceeds go absolutely bonkers - crying, hysterical, not being reasonable AT ALL. (Side Note: I now know what every man experiences during a woman’s time of the month. John, I apologize.). And now this text John sent me: “Holy shit. Mags is off the rails crazy right now.”

5. I miss snow.