Stupid Fucking Susan Bumpit (or my kid has strong opinions about Jesus)

She's the "head room mom" or whatever for Cassidy's 1st grade classroom. She's a bitch. And she hates me. A lot. I think it's because I'm 15 years younger than her and don't have to wear 8 pounds of make up to feel good about myself. Or wear a bumpit.

So, a while back her kid told Cassidy that he was going to hell because Cass isn't mormon. Cass was like "Huh?". And her kid says to him "Jesus doesn't love you because you're not mormon so you're going to hell!" And my darling brilliant hilarious 6 year old responded with, "Well, I don't want Jesus to love me because he's a zombie! People said he came back from the dead!" And then I get ripped a new asshole by Stupid Fucking Susan Bumpit because my child is "compromising her child's faith" with his Zombie Jesus talk. I told her to teach her kids to be respectful of us non-mormons and our beliefs and maybe she wouldn't have to worry about it....

Anyway- Today:

SFSB- "Your son made {insert her kids name here} cry today!" (Picture her with her caked on makeup and blue eyeshadow with 8 bumpits wobbling in her big blond boofy hair getting all up in my face)

Me- ***sigh*** "What'd he do?"

SFSB- "He told my child that Jesus wasn't really a zombie, that He was actually a vampire!"

Me- (to Cass) "Did you say that?"

Cass- "Yeah. cuz it's true! Nonna (aka Mary... see cast and characters) told me that he had the postules (apostles, I'm assuming) drink his blood so they could live forever.... that's how vampires make new vampires!"

Me- (shaking with silent laughter) "I'm so sorry Susan but his logic is pretty good! I might even have to agree..." (At this point I bust out laughing)

SFSB- "I'm going to talk to the principle about this!!"

Me and Cass just laughed and laughed as she stormed off with her teary eyed son...

Cass- I know Jesus isn't a vampire zombie, mom... But I know that kid is a JERK!

And then we high fived.

What was his name again...? Syphilis...?

Broke Back Reesa turned 30-something last week. I don't know how old she is because I'm a shitty friend. So I took her out to a club to celebrate. Wait... that's not how this went... (damned wine is messing up my story telling abilities...)

She did turn 30-something last week, but all this happened the weekend before at the Master Lesbian's birthday party. (I call her the Master Lesbian because she has mastered the art of turning straight girls gay...) Anywho, Reesa is dancing at the club and this smokin hot guy starts dancing with her.(You know, rubbing his junk against her butt like it's gonna rip through their pants and impregnate her before she can say "Oh hot brown boy don't stop!!" or something...)

I leave her to be agressively rubbed against and aquire a mini bottle of vodka from Master Lesbian's bad ass Russian Hotty girlfriend. After a quick trip to the little girls room to down my cocktail I convince Chula to come outside for a smoke with me. (Yes, I smoke. Yes, it's bad for me. No, I'm not planning on quitting, so leave me alone about it...) We're doing our own thing when a nice young African American man walks up and askes to bum a smoke. Sure, I say, no problem! This is when I realize Chula is very, very drunk.

Nice Man (with random foreign accent): Thank you.

Chula (with thick greek accent): OBAMA!

Nice Man:  Excuse me?

Chula: SOCIALIZE MY HEALTHCARE!!

Nice Man: Where are you from?

Chula: Greece... or Puerto Rico... I don't... OBAMA!!

Nice Man: Ah.. Greece..I've been to Turkey..

Chula: TURKEY?! I HATE TURKS! I NO VOTE FOR YOU AGAIN!!! (at this point she slips in to greek and I have no idea what she's saying)

I apologize to Nice Man and drag a screaming Chula in to the bar. I realize that I am also very drunk... (due, mainly, to the two screwdrivers I had at home and the long island ice tea I drank before Russian Hotty gave me the mini bottle..) too drunk... awe crap!! I run to the girls room and throw up. (I am well over 21 years old and had never thrown up from alcohol before so this was a big event for me...) I text Boy Wonder to tell him I'm officially an adult!

Reesa gets Pelvic Thrusting Boy's phone number and we all leave. Pelvic Thrusting Boy's name turns out to be Arash. He's Iranian and 10 years younger then Reesa. (Go Reesa!!) She's feeling awkward about the whole thing because she hasn't dated in 5 years. Whatever.

I ask her (drunkenly): So when are you gonna see Gonorrhea again?


Reesa: Wha..? Arash?


Me: *insert giggling* yeah Chlamydia...



Reesa: *giggling* you mean Rashy? Wednesday.



Me: *more giggles*


Chula: OBAMA!!!

By the way Herpes looks like a middle eastern version of this guy:

Go Reesa Go!!!

I think I might royally suck at this blogging thing. (or My kids teacher is a lazy d-bag)

Ok, so I gave up on writing about last week. I'll just say this:

-Chula shouldn't do the "cupid shuffle" because 50 year old female porn stars petition her for sex when she does.
- Rum + hanging out with old clients + an irish pub = drunken discussions of mucus plugs, placental abnormalities, and attempted sex-ploits while the newborn is "sleeping"...
-Tooele, UT is the asshole of the universe.

On to this week:

Al had pink eye last week. So he missed Monday. So he didn't get his homework packet. So When I talked to him about it on Wednesday of last week, he said, "But she didn't give us any homework!" So (stupid me) I figured he was telling the truth.
Yesterday I get a note from Mrs. B (or as I like to call her Little Miss Bitchface) asking where the hell Al's homework is. So I rip Al a new one for lying to me and tell him to bring it home tonight to work on.
His effing teacher decided to throw it away and is TOO FUCKING LAZY to go print new work sheets when he asks for it. She gives him a note for me that reads "I think we need to focus on THIS WEEKS homework. He's getting a 0 for last week. Thanks." NO THANK YOU! I read the note and storm in to her room and DEMAND the homework.
She stares at me.
I stare at her.
Al stares at us.
Cass picks his nose. (then sneakily wipes it on her pretty U.S. map... GO CASS!)
I win. She looks away and goes on a quest for a copy of the home work. (damn right! I am the master of the stare down, bee-otch!)
I say "Thank you".
She says "Make sure you get this weeks homework done first Alex!" 
Al says, "I finished it all last night... your homework is too easy." (This is true by the way.)
In your face you nasty old bag!!
She says, as we're walking out the door, "You're still getting a 0."
BITCH!
I decide to leave it for another day.
"We" have homework to do.

ready? set? .... Go?

I think last week almost killed me:

Sunday: Chrisalis calls in the morning and asks, "I think Al has pink eye... whatdoido?" Awesome. Take him to the doctor... duh. "ok... what doctor?" Oh my god. I make the appointment for him. Problem solved. Some times the Chrisalis is none too bright.
I take The Nurse (a client) walking in the hope her 2 week overdue baby decides to come out. We drink tea and eat garlic death bread for lunch. She has 2 hours of pathetic irregular contractions then goes home to sleep. The Nurse decides to name the baby Shithead.

Monday: Meet for coffee with The Nurse and discuss her scheduled torture induction the following day. During our chat, Chrisalis calls twice asking questions about pharmacy's and his insurance. (I swear he's not usually this stupid...) After holding his hand through filling the prescription I get a call from The HairGirl (another client). She has been to an prenatal appointment and been diagnosed with oligohydramnios (or low amniotic fluid, for you non birth geeks) and is being induced NOW. 
Fabulous! I say goodbye to The Nurse, drive home, talk to BoyWonder about taking care of my kids, grab another cup of coffee, and head to the hospital.
The HairGirl was planning a "hypnobirth". Going natural and all that jazz. She makes it 16 hours on Cytotec then Pitocin without pain relief then threatens to kill someone if she doesn't get drugs.. Woo Hoo! The Epi is in and she's feeling great. 


Tuesday: The Nurse shows up to the same hospital to start her induction. They start the Pit and she's playing gin rummy with her Husbeast (her name for him, not mine!) and kicking his ass. I take a two hour nap in the on call room for the anesthesiologists. (God bless the nurses at this hospital!!) I wake up and everyone is still doing great! I spend a few hours running between rooms, updating pushy soon-to-be grandmas and over anxious soon-to-be aunts, rubbing some backs and feet, getting ice chips, feeding dads, sneaking The Nurse some peanut butter crackers. 
Eventually, someone decides that The HairGirl isn't going to have this baby vaginally (she's stuck at 6cm dialated) and they rush her off for an "emergency c-section". (that's in quotes because it took them an hour and a half to "rush" her off!) 
Thirty minutes later out she comes holding a nine pound monster baby. He's HUGE! Mom and baby are healthy and happy, I help with some boob touching breastfeeding techniques. Now back to The Nurse!!


Oh yeah, somewhere in there I call BoyWonder and check on the kids. Al's pink eye is completely gone. And he never got the prescription drops... what the...? Whatever.



The Nurse has her water broken and is progressing really well. Did I mention she's allergic to the Epi meds so she has to go natural? Yeah... So, fast forward about an hour and she's yelling at everybody. "I hate you!" "You ruined my life!" "I don't wanna hear anymore of your nonsense, lady!" "If you put your fingers in my vagina again, you're NOT GETTING THEM BACK!!" Classic signs of being in trasition. This goes on for another three hours then the pushing starts!! Weee!! 
Pushing lasts four hours.... Wait I forgot something... it's a new day!



Wednesday: Four hours into pushing and a NINE POUND FIVE OUNCE GIGANTOR baby gets pushed out! Baby gets rubbed down and cleaned up by The Nurse, dad, and me. We get a good breastfeeding (boob touching) in and then the nursery ladies take a peak at him. 
They hear a slight murmur in his heart. "No big deal" they say. "We'll keep an eye on him.." Off to the nursery he goes.
Eight hours later he's transferred to the local children's hospital. Diagnosis: pulmonary stenosis. 
Four hours after that The Nurse is discharged so she can be with him. 
Four hours later he's in surgery.
One hour later he's out and looking great, but still intubated. 
Somewhere in there I realize my left pant leg is covered in amniotic fluid and blood. Also, I have "mystery wetness" on my right sleeve.


This is where I go home to get some sleep.

I don't wake up until Thursday at noon.


This post is ridiculously long already so I'm going to finish later... but if you come back to read more you'll hear about:
A trip to a small town bar, Chula meets a "mature" porn star, Beckie gets drunk and talks about birth!


Until then, here is a picture of a kitten I rescued from a freeway and forced Broke Back Reesa to adopt!

Family, Friends, and one Bitch I Can't Stand.

I thought I'd start this nonsense with a cast of characters so you people will know who the hell I'm talking about when I post.

Here it goes:

Tron (or Beckie): Me. I'm a doula, a SAHM (who occasionally decides to take on "real jobs"), a girlfriend, and a lover of wine and the random rum and coke. I'm also a voracious reader of books.

BoyWonder (or The Boy or Travis): The boyfriend of 4 years-ish. He is my better, saner half. He is also a geek and a jack of all trades. He can fix anything and is a better parent then I am 90% of the time, even though the kids aren't his. Oh, and he cooks. Really well. I burn toast.

Al (or The Big One): Kid #1 We're pretty sure he'll have a pregnant girlfriend by 18.

Cass (or The Little One): Kid #2 We're pretty sure he'll be coming out of the closet by 15.

Poo (or Matilda or Bad Dog): My pug/sheltie mutant dog. She hates me.

Broke Back Reesa: My best friend. She has the worst luck of anyone I've ever met. (Including me.) She has many pets and works at a shitty call center. She lives in butt fuck egypt so I don't see her often enough. She also loves wine and books.

Nana: My mother. A mild alcoholic who lives on the other side of the country from me. I love her dearly even when she makes really unbelievably stupid decisions.

Papa: My dad. He lives two blocks from me and I see him about four times a year. He's a computer dork and teller of fabulous stories. He rides a bullet bike because he thinks it makes him cool.

Cooly: My dads wife. I hate this woman. I don't speak to her anymore do to her awesome behavior in front of my children on Thanksgiving '09. It involved the words "fuck" "cunt" "bitch" and a couple flying beer cans. She is a psychotic drunk. Just because I've stopped talking to her doesn't mean she's stopped talking to me!

Mean Jean (or Seester): My sister. She lives in the same city as Nana. She has an awesome husband and an adorable son and a bun in the oven. She's my exact opposite but I love her anyway.

The Ex (or Chrisalis): My ex husband and the father of my two children. Love him loads, but he's a giant 12 year old. A 12 year old with a marijuana habit and D&D addiction.

Jesus and Mary: My ex's parents. They are divine. If I believed in God, I would assume He sent them to earth just to make my life easier.

Chula: My very greek friend who has amazingly funny stories about her mother and is sexually confused.

Mini Me: The platonic love of my life. I would be her if I were 7 years younger, a lesbian, and childless.

Paul: My coffee shop dad. Gives great advice and offers to kill people if they fuck with me.

My clients: The wonderful ladies that give me the privilage of supporting them through the childbearing year. I give such helpful advice as "NO FOOD IN THE HOO!" and "Rub your taint!".

 I think that covers all the main people in my life. Next up: Two births in less then 24 hours, a pant leg covered in amniotic fluid, and pink eye!