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Best Not Get That Gift-Wrapped

, , , , | Romantic | December 7, 2017

(I’m currently seven months pregnant. My due date is estimated to be the same month as my birthday. I’m on Facebook and see some fun things my friend did for her birthday.)

Me: *to my husband* “Do you want anything special for your birthday? I know it’s a ways off, but with the baby coming I figure we need to plan things way in advance now.”

Husband: “Cake. Homemade; we can’t afford anything else.”

Me: “Okay.” *after a pause* “What do I want for my birthday? Well, I was thinking of having a party! A book-swap or something. I can’t drink. Anything. But I could serve caffeine-free teas, and everyone could bring their favorite books, and we could all switch them up and…” *I go on rambling like this for a few minutes* “What do you think? Should I do that? Or something else?”

Husband: “You get a baby. That’s what you get for your birthday.”

(It turns out, I was too tired with the new baby to want to plan anything, so I just had a few friends over to play board games, and I fell asleep in the middle of them, anyway.)

One Bjorn Every Minute

, , , , | Healthy | December 6, 2017

(My husband and I have chosen a name for our child that is rare in our area. We’ve also gone with an older variant of its spelling which has a near silent letter. For the sake of the story let’s say it is Bjorn. Our doctor’s office does confirmation calls for our newborn visits.)

Receptionist: “This is a reminder call from [Family Doctor]’s office that ‘Bejorn’ has an appointment tomorrow at nine am.”

Me: *repeating back as an excuse to give pronunciation* “Bjorn—” *j sounds like a y* “—appointment tomorrow at nine am. Got it. Thank you.”

(At the appointment the receptionist calls for ‘Bejorn.’ I ponder a moment if it is better to correct the pronunciation or let it go. I smile and decide to say something so it doesn’t continue to pop up.)

Me: “It’s actuality Bjorn with the j being a y sound.”

(The receptionist doesn’t seem put off and the rest of the visit goes smoothly. Our family doctor is already familiar with the name having also been the one to deliver him. I’m getting a rare moment of sleep when the office calls to confirm my newborn’s next appointment. The voicemail made me laugh.)

Receptionist: “Hi this is [Receptionist] from [Family Doctor]’s office calling to remind you that…” *long pause where you could almost hear them thinking* “…your SON has an appointment tomorrow at 11 am.”

(Well played.)

Manage For Years To Come

, , , , , | Romantic | December 6, 2017

My husband works in a different town and only comes home on the weekends. He’s been doing that for over ten years now, and I am completely in charge of our seven-year-old son when he’s not around.

Last month he decided he needed a bit of time off, so he took a month of vacation; he’d accrued three months’ worth of days off to use. At the end of the month at home, he said to me, “You know, I’m glad I had this time off. Now I know you can manage our son all by yourself.”

Really? It only took him seven years to figure that out?

Try Not To Embrace It Too Much

, , , , , , | Related | December 1, 2017

(My sister has recently had a baby, and I’ve gone over to see her newborn. She uses this as a chance to take a much-needed bath and get food while I rock the baby to sleep. She comes back in the room thirty minutes later to find that the baby is asleep in the crib, and I have picked up their dachshund to rock and sing to. She gives me a strange look.)

Me: “I’m still in cuddle mode.”

Sister: “As long as you don’t try it on me, we’re good.”


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The Family Versus The Reagan Administration

, , , , , , , | Learning | November 27, 2017

(My husband and I have four children. They all look very similar, and they all have red hair. Though my husband and I are both gingers, we are about twenty years apart in age. He has two grown daughters with children who also go to school with our children. As a result of scheduling, one of my stepdaughters usually drops off the two school-aged children at school and picks them up. While the teachers have seen me, they have rarely seen my husband, who has a strange work schedule. On this day my stepdaughter has been asked to come inside and wait, as they need to speak to someone about my oldest son. I have never met the new assistant principal, but I know the principal well.)

Principal: “This is a very serious matter and we need to speak with a guardian right away. As you are listed as his aunt, we need to speak to you.”

Step-Daughter: “I’m actually not his—”

Principal: “Your nephew was totally disrespectful of his teacher, and his refusal to complete an assignment comes with a three-day suspension. I must say that I am disappointed in [Son].”

Step-Daughter: *not really buying it* “Okay, first of all, I have no authority to discuss this with you, as I said. I called my stepmother to come in because I’m not handling this.”

Principal: “Listen, we don’t have his grandmother on the contact list, but we have you. We can’t speak to her about it. Call his mother instead.”

Step-Daughter: “I did. If you would just list—”

Principal: “I have half a mind to call his father! This was not only an insult, but he was blatantly disrupting the class.”

(I walk in with my husband in tow. Grandkids and children are seated all over the office looking bored and annoyed. I go in and have a seat.)

Step-Daughter: “Mr. [Principal], this is [My Name], [Son]’s mom.”

Principal: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can only speak to his mother. I cannot speak to his grandmother and grandfather.”

(I am stunned, because I am younger than my husband, and I look it!)

Me: “Um, Mr. [Principal], I am his mother. Now, what exactly did he do?”

Principal: *clears throat* “The students were required to write the presidents that were in office when their parents were born. It was designed to get them interested in government. Your son stubbornly refused to change the president he listed in office for his father. He put Lyndon B. Johnson. He was instructed to change it to Reagan like he had for you.”

Me: *laughs* “He was right. His father was born in 1966. You wrote him up for being right?”

Principal: *turns red* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you are mistaken. That would make his father in his fifties.”

Husband: *raises hand* “That would be me.”

Principal: “I thought he was the grandfather?! Who has kids at that age?”

(He still tried to suspend my son, and the AP kept insisting that we were wrong about the date. The principal set him straight and my son was not punished.)