Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
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Make It Stop

Overindulged in that sweet seductress also known as Yagermeister. Yes I spell it with a Y. I don't like the J, won't type it here, you can't make me.

Spent the whole of yesterday curled in a fetal ball on my couch, sweating stale liquor, remote control clutched in my hand, the only part of my body not swaddled in the giant comforter wrapped around me like a tortilla. A hungover burrito.

The Surge arrived home Wednesday night to a glorious homecoming organized by Kate and myself. The aforementioned homecoming was basically Kate and I playing PacMan at JFK airport until our tired and haggard boys deplaned. Not so glorious for the casual observer, but for us it was a long time coming. My favorite quote of the night was shrieked by my brother-in-law, delirious after six weeks or touring, a different state, a different country every day.
"Take the Holland tunnel!" He shouted at the driver desperately.
"Dave, we're in Brooklyn, not New Jersey."

And then there was Yagermeister. And more Yagermeister. And even more! I vaguely recall a drunken 3am visit to a bodega for snacks, I have a mental snapshot of someone laying on the dirty Brooklyn sidewalk, limbs akimbo, laughing until they cried (The Surge tells me it was I) and then a rousing session of a little game The Surge likes to call "MAKE IT STOP!" commenced.

"MAKE IT STOP" consists of Monica laying prone on the bathroom floor, hands clawing at the porcelain throne as The Surge rubs her back, tries to keep her hair from streaming into the upchuck spewing from her mouth in torrents, while she screams "MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP" in horiffic tones. Mercy. Blessedly, I never remember the MAKE IT STOP game. But oh how The Surge enjoys regaling me with tales of MAKE IT STOP the next morning.

So The Surge is home. His hair is about two feet longer and the bed feels about two feet smaller, but my fellow is home.

Reader Comments (3)

Ahhh I know the "Make It Stop" game all to well.

Sounds like you had a fun drunk at some point but then the game. ACK!

That's sweet The Surge will hold your hair and rub your back while your barfing. I prefer to be left alone. I hate it when people come in and even check on me.

"Lori, you alright?"


"Do you need anything?"


Let me puke in peace. Am I alright? No I'm puking my brains out! Do I need anything? Yes I need to stop puking my brains out!

Anyhow, Monica will you be attending the Philly Xmas show as well? If so, I might be there.

I'm glad the boys are home. Which reminds me I need to call one of them over the weekend. :)
December 2, 2005 | Registered CommenterFiabug
Vomiting. How DO bulemics do it?

I have vomited the last 29 out of 34 days because of this pregnancy, and damn it, I can't handle it any more. Violently too. Three a four times a day some days. So much this week that I started losing some of the pregnant weight I've gained. It's terrible.

At first, Todd would come in and stay with me while I hovered over the bowl waiting for whatever inkling of food I ate to come up. And at first I didn't want him there. "Can I throw up in peace please?" "I thought you might need me" "no...this is embarassing enough...I'll be fine". By the tenth day I was screaming for him to sit by me on the floor and hold my hand. "You've got to go through this with me! I can't go through this alone!!!" I never want him to actually "see" what's spewing from my mouth, but knowing that he's there, rubbing my back, holding my hand, while I puke out of the love of our fetus makes me feel just a touch better. A touch. I still feel like ass on a stick, but his support is making this experience a little more bearable.
December 3, 2005 | Registered Commentertallchickbarbara
Awwww... Barb - was wondering how you were faring. Aren't you nearing the end of the morning sickness phase or is that a lot of pregnancy myth talk?
December 4, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterMonica

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