Please Mess with the Babysitter

The Woolf Family 1959

Who would have guessed when I spent all those hours babysitting my younger brothers and sisters (my memory of growing up while Cheryl was playing the violin and getting straight A's and mom was at work) would pay off in such a great way? As the second-born, and in typical contrast to my more conscientious older sister, I learned very early that I could get decent enough grades and still play all day, also known as "babysitting". John and Fred were pretty independent, building forts, doing paper routes and scouting. Marlene and Sandy ran the neighborhood with their shirts off , hung out at their friends' homes, and agreed to do my dishes duty for a nickle, and Bill was very happy sitting in his stroller when Buffy, the family dog, would lick his face. I was responsible enough. No one got hurt on my watch. I orchestrated Marlene's 6th birthday party. I sewed doll clothes for Sandy's Tiny Tears. And I changed lots of Bill's diapers. Lots and lots of Bill's diapers.

Bill contemplating whether or not he was dropped off by a UFO

So imagine my great joy, when along with all the other great things Bill has done for me throughout my life in trying to pay me back for all my compassionate service rendered, he dropped into town last night and bought me a 3G 16GB iphone! Yippee and hurray! I have wanted one since they came out but didn't know how to justify it. Now, after having played with it for just a few hours, I don't know how I've lived without it! My merge call button is a little tempermental and I have to get that checked out but I'm downloading my ringtones and I've got my contacts and email up and running, plus my ipod is transported over. I'll just be a walking talking fool after my learning curve increases.

Cheryl, you could have had one of THESE instead of straight A's

Well, a great big thank you to baby brother Bill! I'm so glad I didn't have to wait for my reward in heaven for all my loving sacrifice. It's sitting right next to me on the table, and wait let me check on it...it's 81 degrees in Dana Point and 2:14AM on Halloween in Katmandu !

How can I NOT miss Boston?

This is what I missed by cancelling my trip to Boston, Anniegirl in the leaves, but I know I had to. Although Chelsea didn't have too many contractions over the past 5 days, I would have been very unhappy being 3000 miles away if she'd gone into preterm labor again while I was casually eating clam chowder on Boylston St. and couldn't get home in time. With Paul Revere as a role model, I would have been circling round the lamp posts yelling, "the baby is coming, the baby is coming!"
Now that she's officially at 33 weeks I have devised a plan to give her a little relief. I have graciously offered to take her on a 15-25 minute drive-thru or driveby drive every afternoon so she can have a change of scenery besides just my face or counting flowers on the wall. Since she has to lie in the passenger seat in a semi-reclining position because, according to her perinatologist, sitting is just as bad as standing gravitywise, the most she usually gets to see is the sky, the tops of palm trees, and occasional red tile roofs. She was getting a huge craving for a twist at McDonald's so I told her we'd go get one. She suggested we not go to our usual MickeyD but to try out a newer one a little farther away so we could get a better variety of Monopoly pieces.
When we arrived at the order box we heard the familiar melodious Mexican accent, "Can I take chore order?" I asked for a diet Coke and Chelsea said she wanted a twist. "We don't have no tweest, we chust have vanilla or a chocolate deep." "I don't want a chocolate dip, I only want a twist," Chelsea said. "We don't have no tweest. We don't have no chocolate. We only have a chocolate deep." Chelsea suddenly sat straight up and yelled "What the H@##! I just want a twist!"
Now I get this reaction, I really do. I've been pregnant before (if I hadn't I probably wouldn't be in this situation) and hormonally imbalanced, but I've never been on strict bed rest for 14 weeks. And she'd already had a pretty tough morning w/ a fly buzzing around in her non-airconditioned condo, I'd beat her in best 2 out of 3 Mexican Trains, and her roots are growing out way too fast. As I looked slightly horrified at my pregnant, seriously housebound adult daughter (and, by the way, there's a very good online support group http://www.sidelines.org/ for this very thing) and tried to speak in a calm soft voice, I suggested she get the vanilla cone. We drove to the "2nd" window and the cheery helpful girl working there (backed up by her manager who perhaps was concerned that we might have an Uzi in the car inspite of California gun laws) handed us the diet Coke and cone, all the while informing us that McDonald's didn't have a twist or chocolate softees.
While we drove away and I re-enacted for Chelsea her reaction we both had a pretty good fat-girl laugh over it.
However, upon returning home, being the lawyer that she is she dug up the evidence below: http://www.xanga.com/JanandPeterBrady/267157579/item.html but it was posted in 2005, and someone in Australia said they couldn't find a twist back in 2000.
If so, why does McDonald's publish their calorie count for a twist?
So here's my question...when's the last time you had or saw a twist other than at Foster's Freeze?

Couvade Syndrome http://www.wisegeek.com/what-is-a-sympathetic-pregnancy.htm

I knew this could happen to husbands but I didn't know it could happen to a mom who is the primary emotional and physical support during her daughter's pregnancy. When Chelsea tells her doctors that she's feeling cramps, my stomach hurts. When she has a leg ache, I start limping. When she's hungry, I start pigging out. As her abdomen grows, so does mine. Even when she was in the hospital again the other week and on a high dose of magnesium sulfate which caused her to completely lose all muscle strength, I developed a severe back pain and took too many muscle relaxants. What's up with that? My ankles aren't swollen but neither are hers. But we've both outgrown our clothes. So to combat this well-documented psychological disorder I'm forcing myself to get back to my walks. I started again today. My favorite walk is from Capistrano Beach to Doheny State Beach and Campsite. It's nearby and easy to get to, never crowded, and gives me the chance to not only enjoy the ocean but smell the campfires at the campground early in the morning, which often includes the aroma of bacon and pancakes. I love that camping smell. I should have been a gypsy and invested my money in a camper. There are a few local bums, oh, I mean homeless people that I tend to see frequently at a nearby intersection and often at McDonalds. One of the couples, I call them Farmer and Babe, have a pretty great getup. Farmer has combined a 2-man bicycle with a one-wheel carrier. It's very fancy. I wonder what they keep under the tarp. Any guesses?

What I see on my walk. Pretty cool, eh?

And so we begin...

I was supposed to be in Boston this week with Halloween haunting at Beacon Hill. Due to a possible grandbaby showing up sooner than expected I cancelled the trip. This is the best I could do--about 5 miles from my home.