Five questions from Lee

Lee has been reading my blog for a long time because she either likes me or she’s trying to win a bet. I’m going to make myself feel good by assuming it’s the former. Otherwise, I hope she wins a lot of money. And then shares it with me.

She is participating in a meme in which readers ask the blogger five questions specifically tailored to that particular blogger.

I thought it was a great twist on the traditional meme and I would have loved to participate but one of the rules is tagging and as everyone who reads this blog knows, I break out in hives at the mere thought of tagging because, in addition to a few other idiosyncrasies of mine, I happen to be a freak of nature on occasion.

As I was rubbing Cortisone all over my body and popping Benadryl like Tic-Tacs and cursing my bad luck, Lee happened to drop me an email telling me not to worry, that I could play even if I didn’t tag and she gave me five questions to ponder.

Thanks, Lee! My itchy regions are grateful to you.

Here we go:

1)  When did you first find out that you’d be a parent? How did you feel?

I was twenty six years old, married to Dave, my first husband.

That kind of sounds like I’ve had scads of husbands, doesn’t it? I haven’t. Just two. Nate’s my second. I have a third one lined up, just in case Nate doesn’t put down his crackberry and stop checking his email in mid-conversation.

Anyway, Dave and I had been trying for six months to get pregnant and for six months, I’d pee, wait, swear, cry and go to work. I did this several times a month, just in case the 32 sticks I peed on monthly were defective. I was just about to drop my uterus down our garbage disposal when I finally saw the plus sign on the test stick. Actually, I think it said YOU’RE PREGNANT – ON BEHALF OF ALL STICKS EVERYWHERE, STOP PEEING AND LEAVE US ALONE but I’m not sure.

I felt all kinds of euphoria and panic at the same time. Then I called my parents to tell them and felt euphoria and panic all over again but that may have been due to a self-inflicted concussion from repeatedly slamming the phone into my forehead:

ME: Mom! Mom! You are never going to believe who I bumped into today!

MOM: Who?

ME: Is Dad there? Put him on the phone, he won’t believe it either! I need to tell you guys at the same time!

MOM: Who? For God’s sake, just tell me. Was it your brother? Did you tell him to call me? Why isn’t he married?

ME: No, it wasn’t Tino, Mom. Is Dad coming?

MOM: Peter! Peter! PETER! Andy’s on the phone. Pick up the extension. PETER! Are you listening to me?

DAD: Andy? How are you doing?

ME: I’m fine, Dad. You guys won’t believe …

MOM: Peter! Andy’s on the phone! Where are you? PETER! I don’t think he’s home, Andy. I can’t find him.

DAD: Dee! For crying out loud, I’m right here. Andy, how’s the weather up there? Is it hot? It’s hot here.

ME: Yes, it’s hot. Guess who I …

MOM: Oh my God, it’s sweltering here. Andy, I tell you. Don’t come south in the summer. It’s miserable. I’m dying.

ME: OK. Got it. No summer. Now, guess who I bumped into today?

DAD: It’s not that hot here, Dee! What are you talking about? I managed to play golf today and I lived.

MOM: Don’t listen to him, Andy. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s delusional from heat stroke.

DAD: Don’t listen to your mother. I do too know what I’m talking about.

MOM: Are you saying it’s not hot here, Peter? Are you saying I’m NOT sitting here, sweating, Peter? PETER?

ME: Guys! I need you to listen to me for a sec.

DAD: Shhhhh, Dee. She’s got something to tell us!

MOM: Shhhhh, Peter!  She’s talking!

MOM/DAD: OK, dear. We’re listening. Who’d you bump into?

ME: I’M PREGNANT!

(Pause)

DAD: No kidding?

MOM: Oh, Andy! Are you sure?

ME: Pretty sure, Mom.

DAD: Of course she’s sure, Dee! Why wouldn’t she be sure?

MOM: Well! How am I supposed to know? That’s terrific, Andy!

MOM/DAD: Congratulations, Andy! We’re thrilled!

ME: Thanks, guys!

MOM: Now … who did you bump into?

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2)  If you were to give anyone one piece of advice, one great lesson that you have learned, what would it be?

Forget lingerie and candles and porn.

Go find yourself a refrigerator box. Paint it black and stick some numbers and arrows on it and various words such as “CHANNEL UP,” “CHANNEL DOWN,” “STOP,” “PAUSE,” and “RECORD.”

Climb inside.

Position yourself on the couch next to your husband and aim your head at the TV.

When your husband constantly gropes you and whispers that he loves you and pushes all your buttons, think of me fondly.

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3)  If you were to change anything about your life, right now, this moment, big or small, but would provide profound change, what would it be?

I’d give back that third slice of pizza.

*burp*

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4)  What did you want to be when you grew up?  Are you happy that you followed that path/regret that you did not?

Taller. 5’4″ so I could buy a pair of pants that fit me. Big regrets. And lots of duct tape.

Thinner. No further explanation warranted. Big regrets. And love handles.

A lawyer. That is, until I worked for them. No regrets whatsoever.

A rock star. But then I sing and dogs everywhere howl and writhe in pain and I figure that by foregoing my singing career, I’m doing my part for the ASPCA. So, no regrets.

A writer. Jury’s still out on whether or not that’s regrettable. That I didn’t become one, I mean. Not that I wanted to be one. Unless you think it should be?

Self-confident. So that comments such as the above would be completely unnecessary, saving me time and extraneous typing. Uber regrets. And carpel tunnel.

A mom. Absolutely no regrets. Ask me again next year when Zoe starts driving. If I can find it within me to crawl out of the pit of despair I dug in my back yard, I might have a different answer for you.

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5)  Do you have a “best friend” and why were they chosen? What qualities do you look for in a close friend / confidante?

I blogged about my friend Traci awhile ago.

A true friend will drive across town to pick you up, come hell or high water, because you guys made plans that weekend, dammit, and something as minor as a blown head gasket is not going to stand in her way. She’ll be waiting in your driveway, even if it means leaking a reservoir of oil in the process and royally pissing off your dad. And when the check engine light comes on and the transmission blows and she has to drive you guys the entire way back to her house in reverse, you’ll know you’ve got yourself a keeper.

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That’s it!

Just out of curiosity, what regrets do you have? And no, reading this post doesn’t count.

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