I Want My Epidural Back (21 page)

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Authors: Karen Alpert

BOOK: I Want My Epidural Back
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One fish, two fish, red fish, gross fish

OKAY, SO I FEEL LIKE WHENEVER WE GO ON VACATION,
there's always that one magical moment (of course, once you have kids, it's sandwiched between 10,000 shitty moments). Like when my hubby and I went on our honeymoon, there was this time our sailboat was surrounded by hundreds of spinner dolphins leaping out of the water all around us. Or the time we went to the Dominican Republic and my masseuse full-on massaged my boobs. It was a couple's massage and I was dying to yell to my hubby who was lying next to me with his eyes closed, “Look, she's rubbing my nipples!!!” Or the time we went to Florida and this happened.

We were walking down the beach with the kiddos when suddenly there was all this bright silver flashing all over the surface of the water. Everyone on the beach literally stopped what they were doing and watched together. “Look, there it is!” And then it stopped, and then it was there again, and then it stopped, and then it was there again, and so on and so on. It took us all about thirty seconds to figure out what we were seeing.

It was thousands of flying fish (I have no idea what kind of fish they really were, but they looked like they were flying). Over and over again they'd leap out of the water in big groups moving down the shoreline for like 10 minutes straight as everyone stood there mesmerized.

And then when it was done we all looked down at our feet and realized that something sucky had also happened. A bunch of those fish had jumped wayyyy too close to the shore and when the waves went out, they were left stranded on the beach, dying.

Wahhh, poor little fishy.

But hey, I'm a big believer in letting nature take its course and survival of the fittest and all that other Darwin crap, so I'm like, sucks to be you. See ya. And I started to walk away.

And that's when I looked up and saw Zoey's face. She was devastated.

ZOEY:
Mommm, they're dying.

ME:
I know, honey. It's sad.

ZOEY:
We have to save them.

Uhhh, yeahhh, you do that. 'Cause my fingers don't touch slimy shit from the ocean. Especially when it's still alive and staring up at me with its little beady eye.

ME:
Go ahead. Toss them back in.

And that's when she looked up at me with tears in her eyes and I don't think in her entire life have I ever seen her look sooooo sad. She couldn't bring herself to pick it up.

ZOEY:
I can't do it.

ME:
Yes, you can.

ZOEY:
(sobbing)
No, I can't.

Well, why
would
she be able to do it? Here she is watching her mom be a lame-ass chicken shit, so where would she get the courage to do it? If I didn't touch the fish, I wasn't just failing as an AROS (Animal Rescue Operation Specialist) (yes, I made that shit up). I was failing as Zoey's role model. Uggggh.

Deep breath in. Okay, here goes. Ewwwwwww. As I picked up the slimy fish between my two fingers, I prayed it wouldn't start flopping around in my hand. And then I ran with it as fast as humanly possible and tossed it back into the ocean.

ME:
Swim, little guy, SWIM!!!!!

FYI, I didn't actually say that last part out loud, but if they make this into a Lifetime movie, the actress playing me (Eva Longoria/Kerry Washington/Megan Fox) totally would. But I digress.

You should have seen Zoey's face. There really is no word that captures the elation she felt at that moment. But there were still tons of fish all stranded along the beach. And she still hadn't done anything besides watch me.

ME:
Come on, Zoey. Help me.

ZOEY:
I can't.

ME:
(I stare straight into her eyes and use my deep James Earl Jones voice.)
Yes. You. Can.

And at that moment, she pulled together as much courage as she could and she slowly leaned down and her fingers touched the fish at her feet. It was fast and there's no way in hell she would actually pick it up by herself, but she did it. She touched it!!!

ZOEY:
I did it!!!

ME:
You did it! Come on, help me! Hold on to my wrist and you're saving it too!!

Kinda sorta.

And together we tossed like ten more fish back into the ocean. And after it was all over, Zoey celebrated touching a fish.

Before I became a mom, I knew I'd have to make all sorts of sacrifices. I'd have to stop going out as much at night. I'd have to stop listening to rap music in the car. I'd have to watch crappy TV shows (of course, I had no idea HOW bad, cough cough,
Caillou
). I even knew I'd have to touch totally gross things like poop and blood and vomit. But never did I think that being a good mom would require me to pick up a live fish.

I guess that's what being a parent is about. Doing a lot of shit you never knew you'd have to do. And sometimes being a kickass parent isn't about being proud of your kiddo. Sometimes it's about being proud of yourself.

Okay, don't worry. I'm turning back into my normal cynical self now.

AWWW SHIT,
Whatta You Mean They Grow Up??

WHOA WHOA WHOA, WTF JUST HAPPENED?
Yesterday the nurses were wiping that gross cottage cheese stuff off my newborn and today she's graduating from kindergarten. Like remember in
Star Wars
how Han Solo could press that crazy little button on his dashboard and his rocket ship would suddenly launch into warp speed and shoot through space narrowly missing asteroids and shit? That's my life now. Constantly. One day I'm popping out babies and the next day my eggs are so rotten they smell like a sulfuric science experiment. Can someone pleeeease slow this ride down?!! And what really sucks is that there are people all over the world rubbing it in. Like whenever I walk down the street with my family, some random schmuckwad feels the need to tell me to appreciate my kids now because it goes by so quickly. I'm like, no shit, Sherlock. I feel how fast it's going. Yesterday she was in diapers and today she's wearing a thong. Not really, but she's wearing her underwear backward on purpose and that's very thong-like. Anyways, I'm stocking up on shitloads of alcohol for the day they leave me, which at this rate is going to be tomorrow.

If you have a vajayjay and she has a vajayjay,you're on the same team

Dear Zoey,

Here's the thing. I don't really give a shit what you are in life. You wanna be a prison guard? Awesome. You wanna be a drug dealer? As long as cannabis is legal in your state, deal away. You wanna be a proctologist? Gross, but whatever floats your boat.

I don't care WHAT you are, but I do care WHO you are. Especially when it comes to the way you treat other girls.

Look in your pants. See that thing in there. That is your vajayjay. And anyone else that has one of those is on the same team. Capeesh? I know that life is hard right now, trying to decide important shit like should you watch
PAW Patrol
or
Scooby-Doo
, but believe it or not, life's gonna get even more complicated as you get older. And here are a few guidelines to remember when you're figuring out how to treat other girls:

      
  1. Never ever
EVER
step on another girl to climb higher socially. Girls are not rungs on a ladder. They are pillars. Pillars who will stand next to you and hopefully lend support when you desperately need it. And you
will
need it.

      
  2. Do NOT make fun of other girls for their body parts. If they're too fat, if they're too skinny, if they have a mustache, if they have Fred Flintstone toes, if they get boobs before anyone else in your class, etc., etc., etc. Because remember, if she's the
first
girl to get boobs, that means you don't have them yet. And you could be the
last
girl to get boobs, and that's gonna suck even worse.

      
  3. Here are four words I NEVER want you to say in the school cafeteria:
This seat is saved.
Oh, and here are six MORE words I never want you to say:
I'm sorry, this seat is saved.
Because only a-holes save seats. And even if you say it nicely, you're still just an a-hole saying it nicely.

      
  4. If you are in the bathroom and another girl needs a tampon, give it to her. That's girl code. I don't care if she's your worst enemy and has a voodoo doll of you that she stabs every night. (a) Maybe she'll stop stabbing the voodoo doll, and (b) if you mess with girl code, karma comes back to bite you in the ass with a vengeance.

      
  5. Girls are like totally good at saying bad shit behind each other's backs. But friends are like totally good at ignoring that shit and staying out of those conversations. There is only one time it's okay to talk behind a friend's back: if you are planning a surprise party for her.

      
  6. Remember, the group of girls you go to prom with is just as important as the boy you go to prom with. Maybe even more so. Because there's a good chance you aren't gonna marry your date, but it's quite possible you'll keep those girl friends for the rest of your life.

      
  7. Speaking of boys, it's not a competition to see which girl can win the boy. It's a competition to see which girl can be the most kickass, awesome, self-confident girl, and then the right boy will come.

      
  8. If one of your girl friends gets super drunk and does lots of stupid stuff, don't make fun of her. Be there for her. To hold back her hair, to get her home safely, to keep watch while she pees in an alley, to give her a glass of water, to stop her from giving BJs to the whole football team, to talk to her about it the next day, to never mention it again. She made a mistake. Your job as a friend is to keep her from making more mistakes.

      
  9. Don't change to be like the other girls. Unless you're being a douchebag and they're being nice, in which case change to be like them.

      
10. Usually I tell you that school is the most important thing, but this time I won't. Girl friends are. You are more likely to retain your girl friends twenty years from now than any lesson you learned in history class, so treat them like gold.

Damn straight. Anyone kums in my daughter's room and we're gonna have a serious problem.

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