All posts by Kirsetin

A Proud Parent’s Indulgence

Please forgive a little frivolity, indulgence, and pride with this post.  My eldest son (11) wrote a couple of puns for a school assignment, and I think they’re hilarious so I want to share them with you.  

Puns, by Matthew
  • At a meat shop, the owner/head butcher seemed to have backed into a meat grinder and got a little behind in his work.  (A little behind…get it?)
  • Cannibals kidnapped me and tried to eat me, but I escaped and fell into 3 big holes—you didn’t hear about them? Well, well, well—then a helicopter with the president in it pulled me out and that’s why I’m late for school.  (3 holes–well, well, well; this one cracks me up!)

Enjoy your weekend!  -Kirsetin

April Fools: Will The True Story Please Step Forward?

(Updated on 4/2 – scroll down to find out if you were right!)

As part of an April Fool’s contest on the Blog Exchange, one of the following stories is true; the other, of course, is false.  Can you tell which is which?  Place your vote today!

Story # 1:  The Epidural

“What?!  Why didn’t you have an epidural?  You should definitely get one next time.  They’re great.  When I was in labor, we played cards the whole time.” 

“Wow,” I thought, “cards.  I definitely was not playing cards during labor.”

After I had my first child, I heard variations on this theme from every single friend I have.  In others words, “What were you thinking, girlfriend?  Join our pain-free club.”

So when baby #2 came along, I really considered it.  “Let’s see how it goes,” I thought. “I’ll try it without, but never say never.”  But once again, I missed out on the card playing, and—courtesy of a little Nubain—I made it through a second birth without an epidural.  This time I really heard it.  “Uuuuuh, what are you, slow?” was my friends’ basic response. 

So the third time around (how does this keep happening?), I decided to brush up on my research.  Everything I read convinced me, yet again, to try to go without the epidural.  But my guard was down, my friends’ gloriously pain-free descriptions were echoing in my head, and the female OB-GYN on call proclaimed, “I had one and it was great.  You should get it now, before it’s too late.”  And so I did.

But ten, fifteen, twenty minutes later, there was no change.  My pain was increasing by the second. 

“Hasn’t it started working yet?” the nurse asked, a bit perplexed.

“Not unless I’m giving birth out of my right leg,” came my terse reply. 

And friends, this did not change.  For the duration of my labor I was totally free of feeling in my right leg and the much-hailed epidural did nothing for the rest of me, which was desperate for relief.

I never even got to play cards.

Story # 2: Vanity Gone Awry

It always started with a compliment.  “New glasses?  They’re so cute,” said my friends.  Then came the quick follow up.  “Have you ever thought about LASIK.  I had it, and it was great.  I love not having to clean my contacts or find my glasses.  You should think about it.” 

And I did.  I loved the idea of looking out the window and actually seeing leaves, rather than just a blur of green that I knew would turn to leaves if I put my glasses on.  I dreamed of coming home from a late night out with the girls, and dropping my tired self into bed without having to peel the contacts off of my corneas first.  I asked and asked and everyone loved their LASIK. 

And so I went.  Yes, I signed the waiver, yes I knew about the “potential” drawbacks, but everyone loves LASIK, and the doctor assured me that any difficulties were fairly rare, so I knew it would be fine.

But it isn’t.  And now that it isn’t, all of the other stories have come trickling out, and I have discovered that not everyone loves LASIK after all.  When my surgery was finished, my sight was blurry and I was assured that it would return to normal.  It hasn’t, not exactly.  I now have the privilege of sore, dry eyes and occasional random blurriness.  I see an odd, glowing ring around streetlights and the moon that I’m certain isn’t a heavenly sign. 

And suddenly, peeling those contacts out at 1 AM doesn’t seem like such a chore.  

I really miss my glasses.

-Kirsetin

Read the other April Fool’s contest participants stories at The Mummy Chronicles,  Mayberry Mom, &  my life as it is.

* Updated April 2:  If you voted for the LASIK story, you were very close.  Although I have considered LASIK for years, I have not taken the plunge, mostly because if you look long enough, you, too will find that these kinds of stories abound.  In fact, Abby Ellin recently published LASIK, When the Fine Print Applies to You in the NYTimes, in which she spells out the downside pretty clearly.  But if you voted for the botched epidural, you nailed it!  If you can believe it, they add insult to injury by not even giving you a discount when this happens – you pay full price for the epidural, effective or not.  Thanks for voting!

I Wish I Would Have Known…


Before I had kids, I read every book about birth and parenting I could get my hands on.  I knew that I would be tired, that life would never be the same, and that having a baby would change our family dynamic in an unalterable way. 

I knew these things, but I didn’t really know them.

I knew, for example, that I’d be tired but I didn’t know how hard being utterly exhausted would be.  When my first baby was new, I remember desperately wanting a little more sleep, and feeling incredibly, unforgivably selfish because of it.  I wish that someone had told me I might feel this way, and that it was okay.

I also knew that life would never be the same, but I had no idea what “not really the same” meant.  I didn’t understand that my world would shift so completely from a self-centered focus to a what’s-best-for-my-child focus.  I wish that someone would have shared that at times that shift would seem completely logical, and at others, it would be incredible difficult.

I knew that babies cry and toddlers throw tantrums and five-year olds test independence.  But I didn’t know that I’d be really good at handling some of these, and not so good at others.  I wish someone had told me that every phase is only that: a phase that will pass before you know it.

I knew that there would be more laundry.  And there is.

Everyone did tell me, of course, that time would fly.  But in the midst of diapers and baby food, I couldn’t really comprehend it.  Now there are no more diapers and no more high chairs.  Those cute overalls have been replaced by Hollister t-shirts and ripped up jeans.  I feel like the film is on fast-forward, and sometimes I can’t find the pause button.  I hope someone will help me figure out where it is.

-Kirsetin
Kirsetin wrote this post to participate in the Blog Blast on the Blog Exchange, which is sponsored this week by Discovery Health and their new series “Deliver Me.”