What is this stuff leaking out of my ears?

There was a time when I was funny. Witty even. Once upon a time I, yes, Paige was a woman who commanded center stage in a group conversation making people laugh until they cried. Okay, okay... they didn't cry that often... but it has happened nonetheless. I have to say, however, that the day I pushed a 7 lb 8 oz human out of the nether regions of my body... something very strange happened. Somehow, as I was in the throws of labor, I missed the part where the umbilical cord that gave nourishment to my little girl for 40 long weeks had lassoed itself around my brain and took it hostage as it made its exit. (Now I studied business in college, not anatomy, but that is moot at this point... what I tell you is true.)

I guess the doctor I used was pretty new since she didn't distinguish my brain from all the "other stuff" as it was tossed into what looked like an oil pan that a mechanic might use and hurriedly taken elsewhere. I wonder where they take that "stuff". Maybe a boiler room or something where all the other expendable body parts go. I digress. So there I am in all my glory and I'm so caught up in my recent accomplishment that I was oblivious to the "brain-knapping" that was occurring simultaneously.

For the first few days I didn't miss my brain. Had no clue it was gone. I did nothing but stare at this new little humanoid and cry on occasion. We were in la-la land... a land of candy corn mountains and gum-drop buttons where unicorns frolicked and forrest nymphs played the harp for our listening pleasure. Then, WHAMMO! Reality. Soon after we arrived home Graham morphed back into himself and jokingly slapped me with some smart ass comment to which I would normally respond quickly and with precision (always go straight for the jugular I say, take no prisoners). But I just stood there... dumbfounded... reaching... grasping for anthything... for god's sake... ANYTHING!!! Nothing. All I heard was a faint buzzing. A buzzing similar to that of a mosquito when it tries to fly into your ear. Graham stood there... waiting patiently to receive the verbal lashing and soak up the brilliant rhetoric that he had grown so accustomed to in times past. After facing off for what was probably 20 minutes... both of us waiting for something to happen... we both realized the gravity of the situation. His face sank with disappointment as I felt what I'm sure was saliva run out of my mouth down my chin and onto my shirt. I just stood there... like a vegatable. He quickly realized that he was, for the first time, smarter and sharper than I was and his sullen face changed quickly to a disguisting grin as he pranced around me like he was Muhammed Ali after winning a big fight. "What a nerd", I thought. Sadly, I couldn't even verbalize the most elementary insult. I was stumped. That was a pivotal moment in our relationship as well as the death of a part of my personality that I still mourn.

I begrudgingly lay it to rest... next to my formerly toned thighs, flat, scar-free stomach, perky breasts, and tight rear. I visit their graves everyday... tell them how much I miss them and then I go on about my day. Life goes on as they say. For now I will just put a picture of my brain on a milk carton and hope it finds its way back to me. As for the thighs, flat tummy, and toned rear? I will faithfully visit them where they were laid to rest and pray fervently for resurrection. If they never return? Well, I'll get over it. Have you seen my beautiful daughter? I'd become a homely moron for her all over again.

Kowabunga

As kids my brothers and I had a pension for feeding our creative imaginations while simultaneously getting ourselves into extremely unsafe situations. I remember it like it was yesterday. One day we were sitting next to a stinky cow crap infested pond (we'd probably just finished swimming in it) wondering what we could do. My older brother, Devon, who was often the mastermind behind these plots stops mid-conversation:

"I know! We can make a zip line that will take us across the pond!"

I'm sure that we had just finished watching some episode of MacGyver. You know... the guy with the crazy mullet-ish hairdo that could make a metal cutting laser beam project from the end of a ball point pen using only said pen, a match, some scotch tape and a couple of Chicklets? That guy was amazing. Well during the summer my brothers wore very much the same hairdo so it was only natural that they they acquired such crafty skills at the same time, right?

We proceed to the barn where my grandpa kept all of his tools, scraps, rope and any other thing that we might need to use. Keep in mind these are also things that if found missing would mean a verbal or very literal ass beating by either him or my parents. So we schlep in, scanning the environment for any signs of grandpa, grab the things we need and run like hell back to the pond all the while looking behind us ready to see an old man in a cowboy hat, bright orange jumper and boots ready to kill. We made it.

Once at the pond we take inventory:

"Rope. Check. Chain. Check. Hammer. Check. Rusty-old-falling-apart-bike handle bars. Check. Dog Collar? Check. Oil. Check. Pulley. Check."

The assembly begins... in no time we had that thing rigged up. It went from one of the biggest trees on one side of the pond to a smaller tree on the other. It was quite a distance. We all stood around slapping mosquitoes the size of friggin' sparrows off of our legs and just stared at each other. Who would it be? Who would it be? Devon, confident in his genius contraption looks at me and said in the extremely exaggerated hick accent we had as children:

"Payyyge you tra it!"

I thought for a second. What the hell. I might as well get some sort of bragging rights out of this. Being the only girl I was quite often in situations where I felt the pressure to keep up with the boys and not be a "weiner" as my brothers so eloquently put it. I climb to the top and take a firm hold of the rusted out handlebars and looked down bravely at my brothers. Devon was wide eyed with expectation probably thinking, "Holy crap, she's gonna' do it. What an idiot!" Chantz was picking his nose and throwing rocks in the pond. I leaned forward and screamed,

"Kowabungaaaaaa dudes!!!"

This, if you recall, was appropriate expression for the time as everyone wanted to be one of the Ninja Turtles. I imagined myself as Splinter, the master and spiritual guide for the young turtles. I digress. So I'm FLYING down the zip line thinking, "This works pretty good" and then I think, "How the hell do I stop?!!" At the same time I hear Devon screaming,

"Let go DUMMY!"

So I did. As I was flying through the air I had about 2 seconds to think about how totally tubular I was for doing it first and how I would get out and say very casually, "It was alright, no big deal"
But as I hit the water feet first I quickly felt the consequence of thinking so highly of myself as a giant stick hidden beneath the surface raked across my leg and I came very close to impalement. I no longer felt like Splinter... but ironically had the biggest bleeping splinter in the history of splinters in my leg and drawing blood. My ass was in pain. But I lived and I have bragging rights.

Sticking with the theme of this post I'm going to "go out on a limb" and say that the conception and arrival of my first born daughter is a similar story. Now, I know what you're wondering. "Where do the rope, chain, oil, and handlebars fit into this?" They don't, specifically... well, actually something like oil and something like a rope I guess but not exactly. Again, I digress.

My husband and I had tossed around this crazy idea of getting pregnant for a couple of months and so one day I walked in and said, "I'm off the pill!" Sounded like a great idea from the beginning... just like the zip line. Exciting, adventurous and new! So I had been off the pill for a little while but we still hadn't TRIED. Wink wink. Then one night after a date and a couple of stiff martinis we got brave. In the throes of passion we each knew what the other was thinking. He was thinking, "Here goes nothin'!" And, similarly, I was thinking, "Kowaaaabungaaa dudes!!!" Well, we did it... as I stood on my head in the corner of the bedroom completely naked (which would NEVER happen in any other life situation) I started to panic a little. "There's no turning back now!", I thought. "I just have to hold on tight and enjoy the ride." Well, this proverbial "ride" of pregnancy was much like the zip line. I was scared out of my mind but I kept a brave face. I experienced both moments of excitement and moments when I wondered what the @$%# I was doing! This question most often popped into my head when I spent several days in a row trying not to vomit all over my clients. And again when I gained 25 pounds WITHIN the first 5 months and once again when I developed raging hemorrhoids. And in the end... my ass and other various parts of my nether regions were very much in pain. This time from popping out a little humanoid. But I lived and I have some major bragging rights.