Thursday, March 12, 2009

Total Drama Island!

Today was rough. First, I tried to take a new route from the baby sitters to San Antonio. Big mistake. I ended up lost on some bum f*ing country road that I didn't realize was the wrong turn until I saw the No Trespassing and No Hunting signs. Literally almost hit dozens of deer and a couple cows. Welcome to Rural Texas! I set up my laptop and found my way out and it only added an hour and twenty minutes to a typically hour and ten minute commute. So, I guess I could never double as a natural navigator. Oh well! At least I had BBC Radio 1 to keep me company.

Berlin's 4ish month check up was today. She's growing so quickly, right on course, but still! The nurse type person who weighed her was rough though. At the weigh in, she had us only take off her pants. I realize baby clothes don't weigh very much, so it's not a big deal, but why the pants? The diaper, socks, and onesie definitely didn't weigh less than the corduroy pants she had on. Whatever, the lady smelled like smoke...hello, you work in a pediatric doctor's office, wash up after you smoke. She jerked her leg down to measure her length and made her cry. My child doesn't cry like that, I honestly think she hurt her and scared her. I know, I'm a parent and probably too sensitive. So she tells us to keep her pants off because she has a round of shots coming. We meet with the doc, he tells us all is well, fluffs our butter a bit and has some friendly banter and goes about his business. Smokey lady comes into the room with a tray of syringes. I know my child's noises and cries. The shock/horror/hurt that came across her face and scream/cries were very new to me. First, she developed tears at that instant. I'd never seen her tear ducts in action before. They aren't full on water works yet, but sheisse! She's been spontaneously bursting into panicky crying all evening.
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OK as if baby shots weren't bad enough, I still had to go back to work afterward. Dealt with some pain in the ass customer complaints and foolish subordinates. Nothing new there. But the boss man calls me up and says "I've decided to take you up on your offer from a couple months ago." Utter panic hit me. I'd offered to let him crash at our place if his wife really decided to leave him. Instantly the image of my boss living with me eclipsed my universe. No, it wasn't that...thank god! His wife had gone a little nutso though. They are moving into an apartment and really don't have the room for their large dogs. I urged him to post them on craigslist and whatnot. I don't know what avenues he pursued. They decided to keep them though and hire a dog walker. Alrighty, no more thought about them until he tells me his wife went crazy when she forgot to secure the gate inside the house and the dogs got everywhere. Peeing on the carpet and crawling on a sofa they were trying to sell and yada yada yada.
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The offer was to take his dogs to the shelter for him. The decision to get rid of your pets, especially when you've had them for eleven years, can be traumatic in it's own right, let alone actually taking them in. My parents made me take our cats in to be put down when my mom got pregnant. They couldn't handle it, so I had to be a man. I knew he wouldn't be able to handle it. Even though I have no emotional attachment to these dogs, it was hard. Our animal center has made it remarkably easy to throw responsibility away though. So I dropped the two off. I tried to talk to them all up beat and send out positive vibes, but I know they could tell something was wrong.
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Tina was scolding me for coming home so late to top it all off. I just want today to be over. I'm ready for another rainy day tomorrow. I'm locking myself in my office and ignoring the world tomorrow.

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