The Renovation of Jules

Wednesday, November 22

Killing Time After the Day From Hell

Okay, last post before I push out number 4.

Today started well. Was supposed to get a million and one things done so that I could chill and have a lovely relaxing night, a great sleep and wake up full of beans and all ready for labour (LMAO!!). Instead ......

Woke up, text mate who is couple of days overdue and she had just given birth an hour earlier. Shit - that means I have to see her today before I get incarcerated and we all know there would be no "post-birth" visiting. So, got up, got into it and after dropping at kids at school this was my plan:

Go to mall, buy gift for Nicki and baby
Top up power (our silly house has one of those power manager cards)
Pay registration on Blair's car
Do a final shop
Come home and have a nap while Phoebe sleeps
Zip out to Rangiora hospital to see Nicki's new baby
Get kids from school
Make up bassinet
Final bag packing
Have takeaways and chill out

Is that what fucken happened??

Of course it fucken isn't, here is what actually happened:

Dropped kids at school and Phoebe and I headed for mall.

Went into Mall and was making way around Farmers (department store) and found a little All Black jumpsuit for Nicki's new bubba and some Living Nature Manuka Honey Lip Balm for her (we all know how much labour drys out your lips). Was looking at a Nana pack of full briefs for myself for the next couple of weeks of hell and multiple changes of underwear when Phoebe asked from her pram "Mummy, Num Num?". Num num is code for dummy/pacifier. Shit. "Sorry darling, Mummy doesn't have Num Num, it is at home!". What followed was toddler language for "Wrong fucken answer bitch!!". She went rigid in her pram, face went beet red, screaming and crying started. Satan had emerged, dare I say it, for the first time in my mothering career. I had never encountered this sort of tantrum before and definitely not on this scale. People didn't look at me in sympathy, no - they looked at me like I was an overweight trailer whore of a mother who had no idea how to look after her kid. I swiftly paid up for what I had and exited the store and mall without getting power loaded, registration for car or one single grocery. Headed to the car, tried to console Phoebe as I put her in the car (ever tried pro wrestling??), was hot so had to wind windows down so whole of Christchurch could hear her screaming, to the point of dry wretching, all the way home. Out of the car and inside - still going. Put her down on floor at entrance to her bedroom and tried to find Num fucken Num. Then it escalated to the point that I had to phone Blair just so that someone else could vouch for me that she was losing the plot. She lay on the ground kicking the wall and smashing the door and squealing like Piglet on acid. I found Num Num - result?? Asleep in less than two minutes. And that's what you get for letting your hot headed toddler become overtired.

So, I thought I had better sleep too. Slept from 11am till 1.30pm. Phoebe and I got up and proceeded to head to Rangiora Maternity hospital, a 25 min drive away. Just as about to leave Mum text me to say that there were roadworks at Belfast, northern most suburb as you leave Christchurch, and that there were big delays when heading back into the city. As I drove out I saw the road works but nothing too dramatic. Traffic down from two lanes to one on that side of the road, traffic in constant flow. Got to maternity hospital and had to wait until 2.30pm for visiting hours!! Finally got in to see Nic and her wee boy. Stayed for 20mins and then thought, had better hit the road as it would take me 25mins to get to back to town and to school to pick kids up at 3.15pm at our rendevous point. I have made this deal in recent weeks that I will pick them up 100m down the road from main gate at entry to little cul de sac so that I don't have to exit the car in my severely pregnant state with toe rag toddler. They get to have a quick afterschool play and meet me at 3.10 - 3.15pm. Well, firstly got stuck behind hideous tractor plodding it's way down main road just out of Rangiora. Finally hit Belfast at 3.02pm and lo and behold, traffic was at a stand still while some hideous big yellow contraption rolled itself around over fresh tarseal. Today, you arseholes. Took another 23mins to get to school!! In that time I used my cell phone to call school office 3 times to say that I was on my way, as I knew the kids would head back there if I hadn't turned up. The barstards never answered the phone. They have a nice new automated phone system and I couldn't get hold of a human for the life of me. Just as I was a block from school, stressing immensely about the welfare of my older two, my cellphone rang and it was the school office wanting to know where I was!!

Got home.

Sat on couch. Blair phoned to say home early as he had to pick up his mum from hospital. Another story for another day.

Just after 5pm I started to stress a bit and decided to go get the grocery items I needed and then get some Pizza on way home for dinner. Went back to Mall. Everything was shut up other than supermarket so got some groceries and then headed to Dominos. Ordered just after 7.15pm. I didn't have any vouchers on me and they refused to give me any so 2 pizzas, garlic bread and some chicken somethings came to $37.00. As I sat in the empty store with no drivers coming and going I observed what happens when no good management structure is in place. 2 young guys and a slightly older guy pissed around severely and took over 25 mins to get my order together. All the while I developed a shocking headache and literally could have fallen asleep on the seat. Then one of younger guys who had been severely piss farting around the whole time went to cut up the first pizza of my order. By this time a welsh guy in his early 30's had entered the store. I approached counter and asked if that was my order (and as no other mug was in there, it had to be) and the older guy said, sorry it is but we got one of the pizzas wrong so will have to start again with that one. Fine, I sat back down. Then pregnancy rage took over and I approached the counter again and said "Forget it, just give me my money back". "Why, we have your other pizza being made from scratch and the other pizza, garlic bread etc are all ready?". "I refuse to sit here for another ten minutes while you remake the pizza you stuffed up while I sat here for 25mins, you are barely busy yet I have been made to wait for a long time for a stuffed up order. Meanwhile my other pizza will dry up in the warming area, along with the rest of the order. Just give me my money back and I will leave". He paid up and I drove away wanting to cry.

Got home and Blair's face dropped when I said I had nothing to eat and explained my story. He started sulking, pissed off at Pizza company but obviously pissed off at me too. I started to cry, couldn't stop, made some tea, he screwed up his face at it and then tried to get me to relax. Relax!!!! I have done nothing I needed to do and you want me to relax?? I lost the plot, he shouted back, I told him to fuck off and not to bother coming to the birth as I thought he was a fuckwit and could manage on my own and then he went to bed and went to sleep. I have spent the last 4 hours trying to sort a shitload of stuff which has included ironing, washing, packing etc and then I pulled out bassinett, which has been in our room, and it is dusty as hell in between the cane and I can smell the mustiness while I type. By all means I should be cleaning it with a toothbrush but fuck it - I need to go to bed as I am giving birth in 8 hours!!!

Posted by Jules :: 10:59 PM :: 14 Comments:

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