Monday, August 25, 2014

I get an F for the day...

After yesterday I was determined to take it easy and rest today.  The weather forecasts I'd kept seeing were promising that it would not only be one of the hottest days of the summer so far, but that it would also be intensely humid (it is... still... right this second...) and if you've been around the blog long you've probably realized from my non-stop whining when it's humid that while I don't mind triple digit heat in California, I wilt when it's eighty degree and humid here in Michigan.  The fact that only one room in the house is air conditioned contributes heavily to my not-a-fan-of-hot-day feelings, especially since that one air conditioned room isn't upstairs, which means it isn't a bedroom. Right now my as I sit in my bedroom it is "85 feels like 91" at 8:30 pm. But I digress (and probably should apologize for writing one of the most boring paragraphs in blogging history, whining about the weather).

If anyone survived that paragraph and is still with me (Hi Mom!) I'll continue and try to stay on track..
So.  Today.  I was going to take it easy.  I saw my doctor and blogged about the appointment.  I did school with Sadie.  Mae had an awesome time in therapy. Paul slept until noon after working his fifth consecutive night in a row at the new job (job prayers are still appreciated!).

And then I had an idea that seemed brilliant at the time.  I woke Paul up and told him that I thought we should take the kids to have pizza at the restaurant he's been working at.  On days he works he gets 50% off, and after looking online I realized that while they're likely out of our price range at dinner time, they have amazing deals earlier in the day (think $2 10-inch pizzas).  And they have gluten free pasta and gluten free pizza which makes them one of about three restaurants that we can really safely eat at.

Now this "let's take the kids out" idea was heavily influenced by the fact that the kitchen isn't air conditioned and turning my oven on immediately raises the temperature in that particular room by at least ten degrees.  And my creativity in crafting cold meals for lunch has pretty much involved alternating between gluten free sandwiches and fruit and cereal and yogurt and fruit.  So taking the kids (and me!) to see Daddy's work for the first time sounded like a great idea.  I could just imagine how relaxing it would be (all of the kids tend to do really well in restaurants for whatever reason).

That cheerful mood lasted right up until the moment when our car broke down as we pulled into the parking space across the street from the restaurant.  We decided to have lunch and hope that the car turned on when we returned.

Inside the following conversation occurred:

Me: "So, do you think we should walk home after lunch?"
Paul: "No.  I'll figure something out."
Me:  "It's hot out there.  So we'll have to figure it out fast."
Paul:  "I know."
Me:  "It's really not that bad."
Paul: ...
Me:  "Look, a breeze. Doesn't it look nice out there."
Paul: (making some sort of incredulous sound to express his disbelief.. perhaps realizing that I'd made the argument that it was too hot to wait for help, followed by the argument that it wasn't really all that hot...)
Me:  "We've walked this far plenty of times.  To the zoo. To the botanical gardens.  To the law library.  To Impression Five.  All of those are further than this."
Paul:  "All of those were bad ideas."
Me: "No they weren't.  We were fine."
Paul:  "I was just thinking of all the times I had to rescue you on walks in Florida."
Me:  "But not here."
Paul:  "It wasn't as hot as it is today on those walks."
Me:  "Yes it was." (Okay. It probably wasn't.)  "It was on the law library day."  (well maybe in temperature but not in humidity).
Paul:  "You shouldn't be walking that far in your condition."
Me:  "My condition.  Pshh.  I'll be fine.  Perfectly fine.  It'll be good exercise."
Paul:  ...

And in my mind I totally thought I could do it.  It just didn't seem that far.  Sure I'd probably have a contraction or two, but I have that just standing up.  Usually they ease up once the sitting to standing transition is complete.

Paul did put in a good effort in his attempts to find someone to give us a jump in the restaurant, but almost everyone had walked to work and we had no takers.  And we were still hoping that maybe, just maybe the car would start.

It didn't.  Paul pushed the van back out of the parking place and an elderly gentleman stopped and gave us a jump.  The car started... and stayed on until we were in line to get out of the parking lot.  A worker from the city (who owned the lot) jumped the car again... twice.  And we made it half way home before we got stuck behind a lady who appeared to be paying more attention to her cell phone than the road, which caused us to have to slow way, way down to a crawl, causing the car to die a fourth time.

We managed to coast into a parking place.  The kids were wilting in the heat since the car no longer had the juice to run a fan and so we unloaded them.  Paul wore Patch in the carrier and I started out pushing Mae.  We were okay for a solid two minutes until the first contraction hit.

And then two minutes later:  "So... um... guess how long it's been between this contraction and the last one?"
Paul:  "Two minutes."
Me:  "Yeah."
Paul:  "I knew this would happen."

Unfortunately I'm
a little bit
past using
the carrier...
The next hour unfolded like this.  Contraction. 2 minutes.  Contraction.  1 minute.  Bad contraction... the kind you can't talk or stand up during.  1 minute.  Another bad, bad contraction.  Sitting down on the grass by the side of the road thinking "well I guess one good thing about not having particularly effective contractions after so many c-sections is that these aren't actually doing anything." Walking again.  2 minutes.  Contraction.  2 minutes.  3 minutes (mini celebration).  2 minutes. 1 minute. 1 minute.  Contraction, contraction, contraction.

All. the. way. home.

For an hour.

I knew that I just had to get home and get out of the heat and sit down and they would stop.    And finally we were home and after a few minutes of drinking water and laying down on the couch in the cool living room while Patch attacked me for my water (he had his own, but obviously the water in my cup tasted better) I was as good as new (or at least not having contractions anymore).

So there you have it.  Epic fail on the relaxing front... hopefully tomorrow I'll be slightly more successful with that particular goal.  My new goal for the moment is to not even leave the house...


  1. We are praying for you Cammie and will continue to do so! ~Naphtali

  2. I'm sure everyone else reading this post has resisted the well intentioned temptation to scold you like crazy! But as long as you are outing yourself on this one, never mind. :-) We'll leave it to your mom to say some of the things all of us are thinking out of concern for you. :-)
    You should come up with some kind of plan of what you might do if faced with a difficult situation in the future. Maybe Paul could have called someone from school to drive over and at least drive you home with Patrick, while he walked the rest of the way with the girls. Maybe you can think of at least one or two people you might be able to call in an emergency, even a neighbor who seems friendly and helpful. Even if you aren't close, maybe someone at church would have been able to come and do a deed of mercy of driving you home. Maybe if you have a St. Vincent DePaul group in your parish they might be a resource for you.
    I'm glad it worked out okay. And I'm so, so glad about the car. Glad the repair wasn't too costly and got fixed right away.
    Anyway, it all worked out, so that's great. Praying for you.
    God bless. ~ Bonnie


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