Driving Miss April (Crazy)

We just signed up for childbirth/labor/your-life-as-you-know-it-is-over classes tonight. There are a total of 5 classes that will range from 2 hours to 8 hours. One class we opted to take in one day instead of a manageable 4, 6 or even 8 smaller classes. By 'we' I mean Ryan. He is kind of a willing participant in all of these classes so I opted to take the all day classes so we only have to take 5 days instead 10 or 12. Ryan pointed out to me that he will end up taking more classes than me - if he does have to attend all of the classes because he is taking the dad's only Conscious Fathering class (aka Baby Boot Camp). Oh, well. I have to gain at least 25 pounds and have a parade of nurses poke and prod me while I'm naked in a sterile room pushing a human out of my body. Good times.

I'm really not looking forward to labor but who does? I am well aware that women have been giving birth for thousands of years (and lots of them were dying during childbirth but people don't bring that up). I know. This is the first time I've given birth. Besides, if a cave woman were given the opportunity to have an epidural do you really think she would turn it down? I think not. I tell everyone I'm going in to the hospital with a bulls eye on my back for the anesthesiologist. : ) I would really like to not experience a great deal of pain.

Last weekend I was in Vancouver for Crina's shower and for Father's Day. On Sunday we had a family dinner with my brother and his family. My nephew, Matthew, 3 years old, is fascinated by pregnant bellies. I wonder what is going on inside his head when we tell him I have a baby in my stomach. I was barely showing last time I visited so this time it was pretty clear even to Matthew that I had a bun in the oven. He came up and touched my belly and said he wanted to see the baby. We told him it was too early to see the baby. Well! That did not go over well. He repeated that he wanted me to "push the baby out" so he could see it. When we told him that was not possible he cried and went over to his mom.

I'm down to 65 days of work! Woo-hoo. I realized today that I'm ready to be done with my job because I'm ready to be done with the drama. Hm, I feel like singing a little Mary J. Blige right now; at least I think she is the one who sings the "No More Drama" song. My office shares a space with another company - owned by the same person but they are two separate companies and we have an apartment above that is on the same utility meter as us. Billing is a bit sticky with the one company piggy-backing on our phones, internet and some office supplies and the tenant (who power washes everything - he's a power washer by day and a midnight toker by, well, night) upstairs. Every month it is a sore spot for our accountant because our company is taking a hit financially by giving the other two great rates on their utility/phone/whatever at an expense to us. I can see her gripe since our company profit shares. The more money we save on bills the more money we have to give back to the agents who help make us successful. But after 2 years of dealing with it - I'm done.

I'm currently doing my part to make the other company get their own phone lines - because I get far too many calls (our number shows up on their outbound caller id) from their rude customers who, after calling me say, "You called me?" in an angry tone. It's so hard to remain polite when they start out like such jerks. I want to say, "No, jackass, you called me." That wouldn't go over so well. The way our organization is set up the owner doesn't necessarily run the company - there are 3 owners (2 majority and one who makes the decisions). So all we have to do is convince the one who makes the decisions to see things our way - which has been going well thus far - and the problems will become a thing of the past.

Jackass is my new favorite word. Sorry, Mom. It is just the right name to call someone when they cut you off or change lanes right in front of you without using their turn signal or when they make a left hand turn without getting into the turn lane. Ah, Seattle is a great city but I'm turning into the wicked witch of the west behind the wheel. I told my bible study girls the other day that I'm a much more relaxed driver when I listen to classical music. Apparently its been a while since I've tried that because that is no longer the case. I think I need to try and view obnoxious drivers I encounter multiple times a day as myself. I'm not a bad driver - I'm aggressive. At least that is what I tell myself.


As my pregnancy goes on and the baby moves more my tolerance for bad driving is shrinking. How dare someone almost run me and my unborn child off the road? Before bad driving gave me an excuse to yell at strangers while stuck in traffic - now bad driving is bringing out maternal instincts. I'll probably get one of those 'Baby on Board' decals for the car that I used to make fun of. Who really drives more carefully because of those? Parents, that's who. Teenagers and 20-somethings could care less. Well, so could 80 year olds. Seriously? Old people should have a mandatory drivers test every year in the boat that they wield all over town on a daily basis. Their score should be divided into thirds: parking (front in and parallel), turning left and right at two different intersections and the ever-on turn signal (they must turn their turn signal off within one-eighth of a mile of the lane change/turn). A passing score is 80%. Yes, I know the only possible scores are 33%, 66% and 100%; that's the beauty of my scoring system. : )