Sinner's Alley Happy Hour (Part 1)

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<p>MOWC, the marmots are on their way! They're Springtime fresh and ready to entertain the WildChild during his recovery. They make Snuggle the Fabric Softener Bear look like Quasimodo, and they will happily attack intruders who won't leave the room when the WC is trying to watch a Spike TV 4-hour Star Trek marathon. :)</p>

<p>We've been ordered out of the house tonight by SluggJr who is preparing dinner for his Senior Ball date from a couple of weeks ago. The end of his Senior year is going to do me in! We are veterans of battle when it comes to keeping our home from becoming a make-out palace. Sorry, kids...You cannot use the house to bag your Prom date! And, besides...I'm tired of my kids getting more action than I am! :rolleyes: </p>

<p>On the other hand, it's a good excuse to go out for dinner and see The Da Vinci Code. What's a parent to do? We decided that we were bad parents a long time ago, so I guess, we'll treat ourselves to a dinner and an early movie. He's making some sort of Cuban fish casserole and a chopped salad. I'm relatively sure that they won't burn the house down. </p>

<p>Time to get all of the booze out of the house...I hope I can remember where I stashed all of it. I have a few hours to construct a three-tiered, electric fence around the perimeters of the bedroom doors. I'll leave his room as is. It's been booby-trapped for years, and even the dog won't go in there because of the smell.</p>

<p>We are passing Senior Year milestones every day, now. The Senior awards banquet was last night. The room was filled with parents who looked like hell, frankly. It was the same group of parents from three years ago when SluggD graduated, except that we all looked like we just drug ourselves out of bed to attend this deal. I felt dressed up in my black pants surrounded by a sea of college teeshirts, sweatpants, and flipflops. While we were proud of our Seniors, most of us were glad that we managed to find a 10-year old pair of shoes to wear that night. I overheard several students say to their friends, "What are YOU doing here?!" Yes, this is a stellar group of grads. </p>

<p>Around 9:15 p.m., the principal looked like he wanted to go home and watch the American Idol finale. We left around 10 p.m. when a 20-something assistant counselor began to babble and said that the next category of awards was for students who "weren't the brightest..." I don't know what she said after that because I was too busy trying to stifle my snorting. When the funny smartasses sitting at the table behind us left, we discreetly slipped out.</p>

<p>Today, they hand out the caps and gowns. I shall place them in the tangerine booth where I have erected a temporary shrine to SluggJr's graduation. :D</p>

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<p>Consider me "pinged" Alu. All results are not in. Geez, can it drag out any longer? Nosy sinners cannot be any more dying to know than jmmom, herself. Even jmson is probably wondering, but he was born with the wonderful gift of living in the moment (in the good way) and so is just waiting patiently for all answers.</p>

<p>THEN, he'll decide. Heck, I don't even know whether he's still thinking of ekeing out one more year at the beloved Tulane (and it is beloved), but he has decided that he will not change his major to stay there permanently.</p>

<p>::::: tee hee. Does this remind anyone of those dreaded 9th-month phone calls to see if there's any <em>news</em>? jmson came early so I never got that version of limbo hell. Maybe this is my moment.</p>

<p>Okay, well, it won't be Stanford. They are his lone "No" as of now.</p>

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<p>Jmmom, good to hear from you. And here it is end of May and Jmson still only has one No in the transfer process. And not done yet. We are all buying. What will it be?</p>

<p>Would you like an invitation to SluggSs party? Would that help:).</p>

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<p>LOL, awards for "students who aren't the brightest!" Put THAT on your college application!</p>

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<p>--and good luck with the surgery, MOWC.</p>

<p>--and, jmmom, when will you have all the answers?</p>

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<p>Graduation was awesome. I can't believe high school is finally over! We have to be at the hospital at 7:30am and Wild Child is 2 hours away at a graduation party. We are also 2 hours away from the hospital. He says he'll meet us there- no problem. He also told someone he would be in NYC for a graduation party Saturday night! He doesn't "get" that he is going to be flat on his back with his leg packed in ice. He'll see.....</p>

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<p>MOWC, Your story sounds similar to ours last year. Day after graduation we were on a plane to Israel to have a spine tumor checked. The biopsy was done without any pain killers. Son was white when they rolled him out. BUT, this was the best part, whatever they did...that was the end of the pain...benign, and the pain slowly went totally away. In fact, that evening we went out to dinner with friends. Hope your son's knee heals in the same speedy manner. Of course, after the ice. :)</p>

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<p>You Are Forgetting The Vicodin!!!!</p>

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<p>mstee - we should know all the answers by end of May, but maybe into early June!*#$! Then S has to make his own decision - most want to know by end of June. He's still at Tulane for lagniappe term until end of June, too. Not so conducive to long probing discussions. As if.</p>

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<p>Well, well...it looks like we won't be having Thanksgiving dinner with the FBIL's (Future Bast*%! In-Laws), afterall. I'll just have to take my chances with the steamed green beans. ;)</p>

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<p>Ewwww, surgery talk. Last year's jaw surgery on the "high school grad who lives at my house" was quite enough for me. Good luck to your boy, MOWC.</p>

<p>And SBmom's call for pain relief reminds me of two stories this morning. </p>

<p>First, my W and I had explained on several occasions to the doctor who would be delivering our D that we were part of the Dow Chemical "Better Living Through Chemistry" generation and not to be shy about adminstering pain meds. Well, lo and behold my D picked the doc's nap time that evening to move from a 2 to a 10 in a blink . As we were zooming down the hall to L+D, my W's eyes told me to speak up- "Hey, Doc-Where's those meds she ordered?" Oh, it's way too late for that. :eek: My wife's eyes became very expressive - and then the mouth opened and a string of incredibly vulgar expletives followed us down the long hall and through most of the short-ish delivery. Aimed at me, then the doc, then at me, then the doc- it was truly a memorable event.</p>

<p>Second story is about my best friend , also of the "BLTC" generation , who has a very difficult stomach and found himself at a "Doc in the Box" in Palm Springs. He had what he described to me later as a 7 inch combat knive rotating in his abdomen. The Doc told him that "I'll give you something to take the edge off". According to his wife my buddy grabbed the Doc's collar and staring into his eyes said "Look up on your #$%^ing Doc chart how much morphine it will take to kill me and then dial it back a notch". He got his meds but I believe he may be forever banned from the facility.</p>

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<p>LOLOLOL, Curm! :D I've had more than one conversation with intelligent women on the virtues of Vicodin, a perk from having your kid's wisdom teeth extracted, compared to Xanax, gulped by the handful before flying to New York to visit crotchity aging parents.</p>

<p>Okay, I had to look up <em>crotchity</em> in the urban dictionary (because inquiring minds in Sinner's Alley want to know if it's spelled with an <em>e</em> or an <em>i</em>) and came across, "crotchbite, crotchblasted, crotchwaffle, and crotchtacular" for starters. It's a long list. I would add, "crotchsicle," just for fun. :rolleyes:</p>

<p>It's FRIDAY! Woohoo! Pick your poison, folks. I've got a crate of limes leftover from SluggJr's Cuban fish and chopped salad dinner last night. Looks like doddsdad built a new deck for us out front, to commemorate the 3000th post. I found some aluminum folding chairs in the alley and repaired the nylon straps with duct tape. I'll have a Corona and a lime wedge, please. A toast to Barbaro whose horsey leg seems to be getting better! :)</p>

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<p>slugg, re getting out of Thanksgiving, did your D break up with her SO?</p>

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<p>Aaahhh.... Sinners Alley is getting back to basics. Our resident story tellers are leap-frogging over each other with winning entries. </p>

<p>Makes my day. While I sip my lime-spiked beverage, Slugg, I'd like to hear a little less about what food is left over and a little more about whether there were any crotchtacular goings-on at SluggJr's soiree. Ditto SBmom's questions about the disappearing FBILs. But I'll drink to their disappearance anyway.</p>

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<p>If I remember, the marmots KO'd the SluggD/FSIL smoochfest, leading a SluggD whirlwind trip to somewhere? Am I hallucinating? Was that someone else's D? If I am hallucinating, hooyah! Must be the remnants of all the Xanax I have taken since starting my trans-Pacific shenanigans to Shanghai. Hookup the IV, I'll share!</p>

<p>And if anyone wants to start telling profanity issued during birth stories, I'm game.</p>

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<p>Or you could pass me some virtual cocktails and I'll start telling you about how, with me writhing in the back seat in a bathrobe and towel, compulsively breathing funny, timing contractions, and making notes (which I still have in his baby book) during S#1's labor, my dear H insisted that he needed to stop in at work "...to change the back-up tapes". My "vocalizations" over that suggestion are left as an exercise for the reader.</p>

<p>(He did not change the back-up tapes and the world did not come crashing down. Funny thing, huh?)</p>

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<p>As far as I can tell, there were no crotchtacular goings-on at the soir</p>

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<p>moot - </p>

<p>With my second child, I had arranged for my sister to come down from SF to take care of the first. Well, I go into labor. I walk around the culdesac. I wait. My mother comes over. However, she is somewhat intoxicated. Hmmm. I wait. Sister makes it. H drives me to the hospital.</p>

<p>However, this is kid #2! and I have now been in labor for 2.5 hours (the first 1.5 of course in denial). By the time we get in the car I am really really in labor. Driving down El Camino to Stanford, at midnight, H actually slows the car at a yellow light and stops.</p>

<p>My reaction, now memorialized? "DRIVE THROUGH THE EFFING LIGHT!!!!"</p>

<p>I was 7cm dilated on arrival. 45 minutes after we parked the car S was born. We can now understand my urgency.</p>

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<p>Thanks, everybody. I am back in the Poconos with my Mimosa and my son packed in ice! Surgery went fine- it was a long day. He could not have general anesthesia because the anesthesiologist rightly smelled pre-midnight (supposedly) alcohol on him from the graduation party. They COULD have done the general, but it would have been forever before we got him awake enough to leave the hospital. It was forever, anyway. They did a spinal- "It is just a little prick. It won't hurt a bit!"- which he said about killed him. (hey-shouldn't have had those beers!) So-the good part of that was that he was alert sooner, but couldn't leave the hospital until his-um-bladder was able to be emptied after the numbing wore off.<br>
Drinks all around.</p>

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<p>One of my friends described herself in the car on the hospital ride as "H driving like a maniac, with me all Stevie Wonder on my hands and knees in the back seat." That just killed me.</p>

<p>My personal silly story is how with baby #1 my sister was in the delivery room with us. I looked up at her mid-pushing to see an expression of such pure horror-- seriously you could have made a blockbuster horror movie poster out of that expression-- that I mentally made a note not to look at her again lest she take me out of my zone completely.</p>

<p>Afterwards, I asked her what was freaking her out so much and she said, "I didn't know you had a vein in your nose."</p>

<p>Baby #2 was a lot like Alu's #2. Only instead of waiting for a sitter, I was trying to bliss out in a hot bath. I would never have gotten out of that bath if I had not had a doula there who sensed fast progress and did not want to supervise an unplanned home birth. </p>

<p>It was a gnarly car ride, and I was literally seeing through a fog of my endorphin high when we arrived. As I walked down the hall it looked all misty, like dry ice was everywhere. S arrived about 20 minues later. That bath was so helpful that if I were ever to have had another baby, I would have chosen a home water birth.</p>