linden_jay

Okay, we all knew I wasn't gonna make it to 40 weeks. Next to no twin mums do, and chances are, if you make it to 38, you're going to get served an eviction notice. But my guys decided that even 38 was too long for them, and came a full four weeks early, at 36 weeks and, well. 14 and 21 minutes, respectively.

And if I was planning to do a recap of Life With Twins, of my pregnancy, my labour and delivery, you'd think I'd have done it four weeks ago, when the aliens turned one. But it turns out that when aliens turn one, and you invite a whole bunch of people into town to celebrate the mad event, and you're working a new job and are on day 9 of an 11 day stretch, you don't have the time you'd expect to be able to write a post about how Life With Twins is insane. Because, as it turns out... life with twins is too insane. Go figure.

The other mark of how life with twins is insane is that the birth post that I was going to put up? Never exactly materialized. It's funny how you plan to do things, and life just looks at you, pats you on the head, and tells you that you're just so very pretty. So I'm going to do that now, and I'm going to throw it behind a cut, because if we know me, it'll be long, and if you don't want to read potentially TMI-like details regarding birth? I will not be offended if you don't hop behind the cut. I'll be putting up a proper picture post later where I won't talk about placentas at all, I promise, and if you just want to see cute pictures of the Frog and the Monkey, you can scamper off to there.

So. Twelve months ago today was my due date. ( But thirteen months ago? I had my aliens. )

Of course, I'm now kind of wondering how many people will even see this... considering that it's Winchester-eve... but oh well. I can dig it.

So, for those of you who haven't been following along at jay_bean, where I've been talking about this whole process a bit more, this might be a bit more unexpected.

I've had an alien infestation. One of those kinds that takes about 9 months or so before they actually... un-infest.

And I say 'they' because there's kind of two of them.

I think I have to go sit down again now.

As subject lines go, it's rather on the nose, but this time, I think that's okay.

I got the job, glory be, I got the job, and I'm so giddy I could spit!

I'm probably going to be posting about it more, but likely on a filter or at least flocked. If I don't have you friended, or you lurk (says the professional lurker), holler on me, and we'll see about adding you on if that's the sort of thing you'd be interested in reading--the life and times of Jay: International Superclerk. I mean... I get business cards. That's kind of badass.

Okay, not really.

And now--bed. Details later. But for now?

I got the job, I got the job, I got the job!!!

This is Ash posting on Jay's behalf. I got a text message from her. Her Nana passed, in her sleep, at 2pm PST this afternoon. Thank you to everyone for their thoughts and prayers.

The Academic Husband is spending the night in the hospital, after a day of being sick, then an evening in the ER.

He's having a problem with his lower intestine, and they're having to do some more tests to figure out exactly what it is, and what they need to do about it. Nurses and doctors don't make a lot of sense to me when they're trying to explain things at midnight, and they don't yet know anything but what it might be, all of which are words with a lot of syllables. They'll know more tomorrow, and tomorrow he's also having a consultation with a surgeon, so that'll mean they know even more.

On a lighter note, highlights from the evening include:

- The (male) nurse who looked and sounded exactly like Mohinder Suresh from Heroes. Seriously, it was almost eerie.

- AH being asked what day it was when they were judging how coherent he was (after giving him IV gravol, hello), and him going off on a tangent about it being the Ides of March. Even while on drugs, the history scholar in him runs deep. The nurse just kind of let him ramble for a bit, then looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and said "so, that gravol kicked in, huh?" 'Yes. Yes it did,' said I.

And on a making-me-sniffle note, there was the AH--as we were waiting for him to stop being sick for long enough for me to get him in the car and drive him to the hospital--APOLOGIZING for spoiling my evening by making me take him to the hospital. Bless his heart. That's the boy I love.

Please think good thoughts for him.

Just dropping in quicklike to let you guys know that I'm here, I'm safe, and dear lord on toast do I hate the bus. It was a long, boring, tiring trip, cramped and boring and I had to share a seat with an overly perky psychology major. Honestly, does it not make sense that if a person is wearing earphones and there's sound coming from them, they're not interested in chatterating? Apparently it wasn't clear. SIGH.

It was mostly okay though, I suppose. I'm not looking forward to the trip back, mostly because there's a HUGE fucking snowstorm on the way. This part of the province are almost as wimpy as those of you in Southern Places where it doesn't snow (Jess). A few inches and they freak. Which makes it not too much fun.

But I'm here, my sister's well, and we spent the night chatting while I made fun of reality television. Standard, really.

I miss my home. And my boy. And my cattens. And my boy. And my people. And my boy.

When I was doing theatre, there was a set of twins who were two years below me. In their first year, I worked a show with me, and they just utterly impressed me, all the way through. They were smart, they were committed, they were dedicated. I worked three shows with the pair of them that year, and I told them that the next year, when I got to stage manage my own show, I wanted them on the team as ASM's--assistant stage managers.

This was more or less unheard of, since second year students did get to ASM, but they weren't plucked out of first year to do it. They were worth it. One of them was a genius when it came to lighting and organization... excellent at keeping me on track. The other--Ali--was a real stage manager in the making... good with actors, good with crew, a dream to work with.

Ali just died of a heart attack. She was twenty-six. Apparently a virus attacked her heart, and she suffered a series of heart attacks, and they lost her.

I'll be going to the service next weekend. And at some point, I'll probably let myself grieve, but right now I'm too mad. Twenty-six year olds don't die of heart attacks. Thirty year olds don't die of pneumonia. Except that they do.

The fates? Just made my list.

Ohhh such an oversleeping headache. 13 hours, what the fuck? Apparently I needed it, but still--damn. I'll be sleep-hungover all day.

Also, I have a massive list of shit-to-do that I've barely even started on, so there's that. My main problem is that I'm so used to being able to multitask that when it comes to something that you really can only do that at one time it kind of irritates me. This is probably one of the main reasons why I really don't solo fic.

Either way, today I have things to beta, things to edit, things to organize, things to post, things to tag, logs to start, and many, many things to knit or crochet. Plus I have various theatre related nonsense for Romeo and Juliet that has to be done.

Big day. Gonna need a Pepsi. And some Tylenol. Oof.

In other news, I have a new/used TV that is so big it frightens me, and it's snowing outside. So, not really so bad, on the whole.

Pepsi. Now.

So. This is the other side of Christmas. It makes me sleepy, but not tired. Thank goodness I've got two weekends and a full week before I have to go back to work.

Christmas was... I guess it kind of just 'was'. Things were quiet, and hard sometimes, but all right. We made it through, and no one tried to force anyone to be all jolly when they weren't in the mood for it, which was a serious blessing. I don't think I would have taken that particularly well. The hardest parts were being at my inlaws place, with all of the Academic Husband's cousins around. All around and about the same age as Caelin, all happy and, well, alive. Which of course is a good thing, it just made me miss what I don't have anymore, which was hard. Also, my aunt and Caelin's sister decided that I should have the cowboy hat that was passed down to Caelin from our Grandfather, and it was given to me as a Christmas present. That almost started me crying. I'll have to post a picture of the hat sometime.

I didn't get much of a chance to be online over Christmas, and I kind of kept myself from posting or commenting, since I really didn't feel like being the person who brought people down. It was kind of like that in person too... I just let everything be quiet and kind of happen around me for a few days, and stayed on the periphery. Low-key.

Things still haven't hit. I can feel it somewhere in the background waiting to smack me upside the head, but I've been pushing it off and pushing it off since it happened. I don't know if I can say that I 'like' my denial, but I just haven't been ready to let go of it yet. I know it will happen when it does, whether I want it to or not. I'm just trying to be patient with myself right now.

I probably should be cutting this since it's getting a little long, and I'm about to get politely preachy, but this is important enough to me that I hope you'll all indulge me this time, since I'm usually nice and kind to flists, cutwise. For anyone this refers to, please don't take it personally, or as though I'm lecturing you or trying to guilt you, just as a soft and gentle plea.

If you smoke? Please try to stop. I'm marked by my experiences, I know. I watched my grandfather die at 67, perfectly healthy in every other way but for the emphysema that had ravaged his lungs. I'm now watching my grandmother live out her senior years alone, missing him, and I'm trying to forget those last two days of watching him in the hospital, fighting for every breath. I think it was pneumonia that took him as well, like Caelin.

I know you've all listened to me talk about him, you know that he was only 30. He'd smoked for half his life, and between that, his asthma, and the fumes from the pulp mill in the town he lived in, the way he wheezed when he talked, he sounded like a man twice his age. We've been told that the pneumonia that killed him was exacerbated by the fact that he smoked, and its painful to us to know that maybe, just maybe, we didn't have to lose him.

As I said, this isn't meant to be guilt, and I sure as fuck know that quitting isn't an easy thing to do, for any number of reasons. But think about it, won't you please? For yourselves, and for the people who love you and want to keep you with them.

*steps off soapbox, and turns off the lights*

THE RULES: (My WORD this is a bossy meme. No manners.)

1. Leave me a comment saying anything random, like your favourite lyric to your current favourite song. Or your favourite kind of sandwich. Something random. Whatever you like.
2. I respond by asking you five personal questions so I can get to know you better. (Or just to totally mess with you and ask you weird assed shit I feel like knowing... whatever.)
3. You WILL update your LJ with the answers to the questions. (Or, y'know... post the answers here, whatever floats your boat. Geez, meme, what's with all the ass-caps?)
4. You will include this explanation and offer to ask someone else in the post. (see above re: If you bloody well feel like it.)
5. When others comment asking to be asked, you will ask them five questions. (Well, it is a meme, so if you're going to post it, I suppose it makes sense that you want to ask people questions, but still... BOSSY.)

In other words--in classic Jay tradition--do this meme if you please, and if you please alone. Ask me for questions, answer them here, your journal, wherever you please. Also, if you want to ask me questions as well, go right ahead!

My answered questions from:

( apetslife )

( tjournal )

( fiercy )