Wednesday, April 23, 2008

WhiskeyMarie, CatLady, Lollie, BabyMama

Just like WM didn't want to become the CatLady (but kinda did in her last post - sorry Whiskey), I never wanted to be the baby crazed lunatic that I've become. So yes, poor readers, this is another one that could be tagged as Baby Crap.

Ray and I went to our first Bradley childbirthing class last Friday and Holy Grateful Dead, is Janet (not her real name...okay, yes it is) is a huge Flower Child. Just what we were not hoping for. She lives in a very cute, sometimes affluent, neighbourhood near Palm Beach...but her house is the one on the entire block that has a neglected yard, clapboardish house (needs a lick of paint and the carport is leaning a bit), and windchimes galore. She opened the door and what was she wearing? Say it with me now. 1, 2, 3...TIE-DYE! Ray and I introduced ourselves and simultaneously gave each other the stink eye as we passed over her threshold.

We were offered natural iced tea and hot air popped popcorn (could you have guessed that there wouldn't be a microwave within 40 feet of the house?). I had to go to the can, as usual, and low and behold the credo of the casa is "If it's yellow let it mellow, if it's brown flush it down." Me? I don't care what colour it is, it's going away. Sorry Mother Earth.

So the class was supposed to be two hours, ending at 9:30, and probably would have if we didn't get the entire low-down on Janet's life and births ("Oh and guys, here's the really neat thing. My husband filmed our last child's home birth, so we'll be watching that during class five or so. Isn't that great?" You should've seen Ray's face as he nodded almost imperceptably.). And we also learned about her math skills. The woman can not, for the life of her, figure out how many years are between 1967 and 2008, for example. Every time a year span would come into question, Ray would spit out the answer with increasing rapidity so we could get on with it.

It was everything we could do not to laugh out-loud when every hour, on the hour, Janet's Austrian-original wall clock broke out into a succession of cuckoo-cuckoo-cuckoos! Ray squeezed my leg so hard I still have tiny fingerprint bruises. I think he bit the inside of his lip.

So after getting the Bradley introduction, reading materials and course overview, we started at 9:20 with the Bradley exercises with the promise of moving on quickly to the guided meditation and relaxation techniques. Janet told me to close my eyes while she turned down the lights, put on her sleepy voice and a Yanni meets Seaside 8-track (not really, it was a CD), and led me through a side-lying guided meditation while Ray and the 19-year-old nursing student (did I mention that she was there observing for a paper she has to write for college? Oh, and that her name was Nicky and Janet kept interspersing Jackie every other time she referred to her?), sat on the floor next to me for 20 minutes feeling really uncomfortable. At least Ray expressed that she just had to be feeling the same way he was, "I mean, how could you not?"

We ended the session with really big, heart-felt hug and promises that next week wouldn't run so long but she really appreciated the extra time. We'll see if she keeps to it tonight. We go in an hour.

4 comments:

H said...

Good luck tonight! =)

christina said...

i love a good story about hippies.

3carnations said...

I love the baby posts...

But not flushing my potty...No thanks. Also - sitting down with someone else's unflushed potty in the bowl? Double no thanks. I'm all for conservation, but not like that. Ick.

Whiskeymarie said...

Just because I'm covered in cat hair, half of my sentences start with "meow", and I have lengthy discussions with the Mr. on the pooping habits of my cats does NOT make me a "cat lady".
Right?
Right?

Damn hippies.