Monday, October 11, 2010

They say its your birthday, we're gonna have a good time. . .

October 12, 2010



Today is Meredyth's birthday.


21 years ago yesterday, 7.00 am, my ex-husband had just left for work, and I went to the bathroom.


And what was waiting for me was the beginning of labour.


I didn't say anything to anyone for the day, because I wasn't actually sure what was going on. But given the way I was feeling, it was relatively easy for me to come to the logical conclusion.


By the time my ex arrived home, I was definitely sure that I was in labour. Because that kind of pain couldn't be anything else.


Midnight. Everyone, including my ex and I had gone to bed. 15 minutes later, I said I couldn't deal with the pain anymore, we got up, got dressed, and while we were in the kitchen, my ex tying my shoes I said,


"I'm gonna pee my pants, or my water's gonna break. Either way, you should probably move your head."


That was, without a doubt, the. longest.night.of.my.life.


Never have I experienced such pain.


At 9.00 am, 26 hours later, the ob/gyn came in and said he was going to do a c-section because the baby was experiencing fetal stress and the mother wasn't doing much better.


At 9.30 am, Meredyth Mae Ardith Van Every made her grand entrance into the world.


And she has been making grand entrances ever since.







I once had a therapist who argued that Mer was the way she was because she had such a difficult birth, which traumatized her, hence shaping the way she is now.


There may be some creedence to that.


Life with Meredyth has always been challenging.


Most of the time in a good way.


She has a strength I am in awe of; if she wants to do something, there is nothing or no one who can stop her.


At 20 months, after receiving her first tricycle, she decided she wanted to go for a ride.


It was one o'clock in the morning.


She crawled out of her crib, opened her bedroom door, walked down the stairs, dragged a chair from the kitchen to the front door, climbed onto the chair, unlocked the chain lock, unlocked the deadbolt lock, unlocked the screen door lock, and proceeded to bike around our court.


The phone rings. I reach over, answer it, listen to our neighbour on the other end of the line, ask her to wait a minute and hand the phone to my ex-husband saying,


"You can deal with this."


At 2 years old, she wanted to know if cats had blood, and if so, could their ears bleed. She cut just the tips of his ears off.


Another time she slathered him with margarine and put him in the fridge. You can imagine my surprise when I opened the fridge.


She would routinely call my parents at 6.00 am or earlier, as they were on speed dial. My phone bill was astronomical and after calling my parents, figured out what had been going on.


At her grandmother's 42th birthday, with the house full of friends and relatives, Mer emerges from her grandparent's bedroom. holding on to something that had been buried at the very bottom of grandma's laundry hamper.


It was a joke birthday gift from the Newfoundland contingent of the family.


A large, and I mean large, orange dildo with a solid black stand.


"Grandma, what's this??"


Grandma was a shade of red I had never seen on another person before or since. She runs to Meredyth and says,


"It's an ear cleaner!"


Mer, having been informed of the use of this odd looking object, turns it on and tries to stick it in her ear.


"Grandma, it doesn't work!"


The chaos and cacophany that occured afterwards is almost beyond explanation.


But Mer never went scavenging through Grandma's bedroom again, or, at least for not a long time.




Mer was very upset when I told her we were moving to New Brunswick.


She retailated by going to the basement and cutting her hair.


The right side only.


She looked like she had mange on one side of her head.


Her hair had been beautiful. . .all one length, down to her shoulders, cutest little bangs. . .


After taking her to the salon, where they did the best they could with what they had, I had to dress Mer in pink to ensure that people wouldn't comment on my two handsome sons.





There are so many Meredyth stories, I could probably fill an entire blog with them.

But if I did that, I wouldn't have any to share for her next birthday, or the ones after that.

And what fun would that be??




Mer, like most 21 year olds, is trying to find her way and her place in this world. And if past evidence is any predictor, she will do it her way, with a bang.



Happy Birthday to my beautiful, strong, intelligent, gregarious Meredyth. I love you more.




Title Lyric: Birthday by The Beatles

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