Monday, November 17, 2008

Midnight Rambler

Don't tell Rob, but I am missing his laptop.

And no, that's not some kind of weird euphemism. I really am talking about a computer.

When Rob got his laptop for work, I was very pish-tosh about the whole thing. I'm a little proud of being a borderline Luddite (maybe this is the real root of my lack of affection for Twitter and her cohorts).

I resisted having our tiny television upstairs, I don't know how to text message, and, as a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure I own the first cell phone ever made. It's bulky and it doesn't even have a camera in it. Seriously old school.

Who needs a laptop when they have a perfectly good desktop? So you can hold the computer on your lap, big whoop.

Well, I'll tell you what the big whoop is. The big whoop is having a cool brother who, when he hears that your husband has joined the rest of the world, will hook you up with an insanely excellent wireless internet connection.

That way, when the weather turns cold, you will be able to steal appropriate said laptop and snuggle in your bed, under your warm down comforter, while enjoying your evening computer time.

Instead of shivering in your drafty living room because some Luddite who shall remain nameless is trying to conserve the heating oil for the really cold weather and refuses to set the thermostat above 60 degrees at night.

Wonder who that nutjob is?

Anyway, my laptop Rob is bunking at the hospital tonight, waiting for his chance to catch a baby that is taking the scenic route. His patient has been in the hospital since last night, and when I talked with Rob this evening, she was still only at 2 centimeters.

For those of you who may not know (seriously doubtful given my intelligent readership), this woman is not even close to HALFWAY done. And she has been there since LAST NIGHT. God love her and pass the epidural.

Of course, that didn't make me any more cheerful when I was on the phone with him. After all, I've already been in her shoes (slippers? socks? sweet green backless gown?) four times, and now these feral children have sucked all of the mother empathy right out of me.

Oh, I kid.

I am a wellspring of empathy, but it's hard to tap into that while my help mate is telling me he won't be around for the help part tonight.

Especially when I have one crying about how I DON'T UNDERSTAND HER, and if I had a piano piece to practice that PRACTICALLY BROKE MY WRISTS OFF then maybe I would understand that she COULDN'T POSSIBLY PRACTICE ANYMORE TONIGHT.

Dramatic much?

I have another one who at one point today had a very legitimate coughing spasm. I made the mistake of doling out a cherry cough drop, and now he is walking all over the house hacking away like Typhoid Mary, jonesing for a cough drop, and causing the first one to wail about how she CAN'T CONCENTRATE WITH ALL THE COUGHING.

Then there are the two little ones who cry just for the thrill of it. And who wipe their noses on the bottom cushions of the sofa. (You know you want to come over.)

And I had to do the trash for trash night, which I'm pretty sure is in direct violation of our marriage troth. I'm pretty sure he said that he would love, honor, and take the trash out until death do us part.

Eh, but what are you going to do? Babies come on their own time. I'll just have to retire to my warm bed with a book instead of a computer.

My inner Luddite is so pleased.


  1. Anonymous10:18 PM

    I am laughing over here--laughing with you, not at you. Laughing because it is funny that they don't tell you when you leave the hospital with your babies that they will act like teenagers LONG before they ARE teenagers (and if they keep it up they may not make it long enough to be teenagers). The "drama" cracks me up--"You never let me do anything" "yes, that is right except for practically every single time you ask to do something and we say 'ok'".

    Have a good night!


  2. Heating conservation must run in the family ... I wouldn't let anyone in the apartment even turn on the heat until after Thanksgiving!

  3. Blogging is fun.

  4. Anonymous8:01 AM

    The baby came in the wee small hours of the night--3#12oz, in need of some prayers.

    My wife is a saint to put up with the hectic uncertainty of my job. Relinquishing the laptop is a miniscule price to pay.

    Sorry about the trash, too.

    And the screaming kids.


    Well, I'll quit while I'm ahead.

    -Lucky Family Doctor

  5. Next time leave the trash for next week. That's what I'd do. I don't do trash. No way.(Or you could confirm to your children what an awful witch you are and make them do it.)

    He is a good man, however, that Lucky Family Doctor man.

  6. You've been bitten by the wireless bug. How could your brother do that to you? Once you get a taste of wireless there is no going back to being tied to your desk. Oh, no.

    Have you discovered the joy of surfing for recipes from the convenience of your kitchen counter? And wait until summer and you can blog from the patio while the kids play outside!

    I'll say an extra prayer for that wee tiny baby.

  7. This is why I read you... you are freaking hilarious!

    And that Lucky Family Doctor is certainly very lucky.


    Also? I think our children are long lost cousins. The DRAAAMAA... oy vey.

  8. I am laughing along with you too...and taking out the trash with you as well. My Trash Kid is in Mississippi right now.
    Hope your drama queen gets over it soon, and that Rob sees this post for what it is (a veiled Christmas request for a laptop)!

  9. Extra prayers for the little baby and family, as well! Just read the other comments.

  10. I want a laptop too. And wireless internet. Mainly so I don't have to share the computer with Husband. Selfish much?

  11. Oh, I can so relate to you right now, and pretty much always. Except when my beloved abandons me for work it is to save someones phone service which is so much less forgiveable!

    Hope you enjoyed your evening even if it was just with a book--at least it was quiet, right?

    I will be keeping that sweet baby in my prayers. have a great week!

  12. I'm telling you girl, we are living parallel lives (except for the whole husband delivering a baby thing). My kids are driving me batty :)
    I hope the woman had that baby and your hubby is home tonight.

  13. Oh I just looked at comments and will keep the tiny one in my prayers.

  14. I don't know who needs prayers more- you or the 2cm mommy to be.

  15. I will pray for the tiny baby.

    We are about to go wireless, and I am so excited I can barely stand it. My husband has been dragging his feet buying a router, so I bought him one for Christmas, ha ha.

    I work in a piano store, selling piano music, and I hear comments about wrist-breaking practice and music all the time. I also hear from virtually every adult that walks into the store that they wish they had taken piano lessons as a child, or wished that they had continued piano lessons as a child, and more than once I have heard "Boy, I wish I had listened to my mother when she told me to practice" or "I really wish I had never quit lessons". So one day, she will be grateful. She might not tell you, but she will be.


Go ahead and say it. You know you want to.