Birth Story

I was asked by my friend Miss Emmy Lou if I would be interested in sharing my birth story. It's definitely something worth writing down for posterity, so I figured I would go ahead and do it. You can go over to Mama Days and check out the other birth stories as well.

Birth Story
William Mason
Born August 31, 2010
4:47 AM 5 lb, 14 oz

I had just switched my insurance over to Tricare standard so that I could go to a civilian hospital. Before this point I had been in the midwife program at the local military hospital, but after hearing so many horror stories I knew that civilian was the way I wanted to go, especially hearing the wonderful things about the birthing center near my house. I was 37 weeks along at my first appointment.

It was a Thursday when I went in to see the midwife. She did the typical checks of weight, heart rate, fundus height, etc then asked if I wanted to be checked to see how dilated I was. I figured, I'm already here, why the heck not? So she felt. Then looked at me.

"You're 3 cm dilated," she said. "And 90% effaced. This baby could come any day." She said she was surprised I wasn't waddling like crazy and rushed me through the registration paperwork for the hospital.

At this point my husband was in California doing training so I contacted the FRO to see if she could get a hold of his command and find out if he was authorized to come home early. She said she would contact them but there was no guarantee.

After finding out how close I was to delivery we decided we should get my maternity photos done ASAP. Sunsay was the earliest my photographer could do it so we met at the beach and had a wonderful shoot. She kept saying how photographic I was and we joked about how funny it would be if I went into labor that night, still in my make-up. Around 9pm that night I started contractions. They were a couple minutes apart, but by morning they were gone.

Monday morning I got a call from the hubby. He said his command told him he could leave early, but not until the 1st, and they wouldn't pay for the ticket. So we checked for the cheapest one, which was roughly $500 and took him from LA to Phoenix to Lilani to Honolulu. It would take about 12 hours to get from CA to Hawaii, but it was our only real option, so we bought the ticket. I asked him what would happen if I went into labor before he got home. He insisted it wouldn't happen and that he would see me soon. A few hours later I started contractions again.

They felt like strong menstrual cramps and I wasn't even sure they were the real thing. I called the hospital and they told me I should come in just in case. So my friend Heather picked me up and drove me over. In the 10 minutes it took to get to the hospital my contractions got stronger and by the time I got inside I was 4 cm dilated with contractions about 3 minutes apart. At this point I knew I was in active labor and I again called the FRO to let the command know. A few minutes later I got a call from the husband, completely flustered. I could just tell he was pacing the floor where he was and it was driving  him crazy knowing what was going on and being so far away. Still, the sound of his voice, nervous or not, was enough to calm me down and give me the confidence I needed. 

It wasn't too much longer before the doula and my friend Mrs R. arrived. The doula helped me walk through my contractions until he shifted in a way that pushed on a nerve, causing back labor. I couldn't sit or have anyone even touch me without shooting pain. I moved into transition and had contractions right on top of each other. My mother called right about this time and my friend told her I was in transition and the baby should be here any moment. She and my dad decided to wait for my phonecall before leaving for work. Transition lasted about 3 more hours. That's right. Three hours with literally 1-2 seconds of rest in between contractions. By this point I had almost given up. I was nauseated, I couldn't get comfortable for even a moment, and my strength was fading fast. I almost begged for an epidural, or a cesarean - anything to get this baby out and let me sleep.

The doula could tell I was defeated and gave me some encouraging words. She suggested I try the squatting bar to get things moving. The squatting bar helped tremendously and the adrenaline kept me going. My doula said she had never seen anyone stay in a squatting position for so long (and let me tell you, the next day I was certainly feeling it). I moved from the squatting bar to the jacuzzi tub to give myself a little rest. At this point I was 9cm dilated and my water still hadn't broken. Even with the adrenaline I was tired, and beginning to think that this baby would never get here. We finally made the decision to have them break my water. They moved me back into the bed and when they checked me I was at 10 cm so they said they would call the doctor in to do it. As they got the equipment ready the doula suggested I start pushing if I had the urge, even though the nurse said she wanted me to wait until after the doctor I got there. I started pushing. At one point I started to feel sick to my stomach again and called my friend Heather over with the vomit bucket. I had the urge to push again and just as she moved from the foot of the bed I pushed, breaking my water, and shooting it about 5 feet across the room. It missed her by inches.

The doctor came in and agreed that I could start pushing for real. Finally by this point the baby had dropped low enough that he was no longer pushing on my nerve and the contractions were far enough apart that I had a significant rest in between. It felt like a piece of cake compared to the rest of the labor. I ended up pushing for about 2 hours. So, 5 hours after I was "almost done" and 15 hours of active labor I finally got to meet my baby boy at 4:47 the next morning. We got about 2 hours of uninterrupted bonding time and I got to talk to my husband for a few minutes before he got on the plane. At around 4 pm that day the hubby finally made it to the hospital and got to meet his son for the very first time. You could tell it was one of his proudest moments and it felt so good to have the whole family together.

Maternity photos taken the day before I went into labor

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Walking into the birthing center

Holding my son for the first time

My beautiful baby boy

 Daddy meeting baby 

Day 17: A book you’ve read that changed your views on something

I've been putting off answering this one because I honestly can't think of an answer. I've read tons of books - mainly textbooks, and fantasy, and romantic fiction (think Nora Roberts, not Harlequin romance), but I don't know that I can say that any of them have CHANGED my views on something. I guess the closest thing would have to be my human intimacy textbook, and it was really less the book, moreso the professor.
He really pointed out how jaded the words "I love you" have become. They have become a conditioned response. Someone says, "I love you," and your automatic response is, "I love you too." It diminishes the meaning of the words because it is said so often. Ever since then I've been really careful when I say it. I only say it when I really mean it (except to young children, because they don't understand the distinction). It took a while for my husband to understand the concept, but now those words hold more power, and when I say, "I love you" he knows I REALLY mean it.

A friend by any other name

I know I'm late on my 30 days of truth, and I haven't really added any baby updates, but I have something else on my mind.
Really it's been sitting there since I got back to my hometown. I left some amazing people to see some old friends, and I realized how much people can change. I realized that even the meaning of the word "friend" can change too. As you grow older you have different expectations. Even with the same expectations you find that people who once met them no longer meet them anymore.
There is a girl who has held the title of best friend for longer than I have known my husband. Over the past few years she has kept that title, in words, but not necessarily in actions. For the longest time she stayed there because there was no one else to fill her place, no one who knew me as well (excluding my husband) and still accepted me. The sad thing was, I was always second best to her, and yet she always expected my undying attention and devotion. She's really not as bad as I'm making her seem right now. After all, she was my best friend for a reason.
But while I was back home she had a million reasons why she couldn't hang out, then right before I had to leave she called me, very upset that we weren't joined at the hip. And when I was hanging out with her I realized a few things.
I don't agree with her style of parenting. While I have found I can be friends with someone and not agree with their parenting, I can't be BEST friends with someone who not only has a skewed sense of discipline, but who insists she is right about everything.
Along those lines, she thinks she's right. About everything. All the time. No matter what.
She either remembers events wrong, or purposely relays them in the way she wants to. I can't even count the times she has recalled events to someone and put words in my mouth, or, in portraying something that happened to me, puts words in someone else's mouth, and then insists I'm wrong when I correct her, even though she wasn't there.
And finally, she still treats me like I don't know what I'm doing. (back in middle school she was my protector, and even as I grew she kept that role. She gets offended when I can fend for myself because she feels she has no purpose) As a weird example, before we left the house I zipped up my boots, exposing my knee, that a few days earlier I had fallen on and skinned. I had put a band-aid on it to avoid the blood soaking into my jeans. She looked at it and said, "You put a band-aid on your knee?!?" Me: "Yes, it was bleeding." Her: "Oh, ok...." (said in a tone that indicated she thought that was a dumb reason)
My point to all this was not just to bash someone who I have called friend. This is also to recognize those that truly deserve the title.
Like I said in the beginning of the post, I have met some truly amazing people in Hawaii, people that I am proud to call "friend." A few have them have already moved on and it's been a truly sad time for me. I don't look forward to the time when I have to leave the other friends I have left

And the adventure continues.

I've spent the last few days packing and traveling so I haven't had much time online. I was however able to write this blog while on the plane, so here it is.

So, the flight back to Hawaii was full of ups and downs. The beginning half was perfect, or at least as close to it as you can come while traveling alone with a 5 month old. I breezed through security in the airport because the line was almost nonexistent, and was greeted by the friendliest security guard I've ever met. He smiled at me and had a nice conversation while I loaded my things onto the belt, offering to help me in any way he could (without leaving his station) and then complimented me on how organized I was. I got through the metal detector and someone had already set up my stroller frame for me, and as I walked over someone offered to help put the carseat in. I politely declined and made my way to the gate of departure - 90 minutes early. I had made it through so fast I had some serious time to kill. So, I grabbed a coffee and an odwalla from one of the cafes. Military? Why, yes I am. Ok, that will be 20% off. Such a small gesture, but it made my morning.
As I waited to board the plane an older woman smiled and asked me how old my son was. She had a new grandson who just turned 4 months. We kept it to friendly chit chat, and as they started boarding other passengers practically pushed me to the front of the line so I could board early. After I finally got situated the lady I had been talking to sat down beside me. Conveniently we were in the same row. Again, a little thing, but sitting next to someone even slightly familiar for the whole wopping hour flight was somewhat comforting.
I knew I only had about 20 minutes once I got off the plane before they would start boarding my connecting flight so I practically ran out of the gate to find the flight monitors. I apparently missed the first one, and walked briskly with a backpack full of books, a diaper bag around my shoulder, a carseat in one hand, and a baby strapped to my chest. I found the next monitor and realized my gate was in the opposite direction. About face. Walk briskly in the other direction. Find my gate. See people from my first plane exiting the gate. Yes, I was departing from the same gate I just came out of. Furthermore, I was on the same plane.
At least I got my cardio for the day.
Next flight.The moment I get on the plane the flight attendant offers to help carry my carseat back, Awesome. To make things even better I sat next to the most helpful man I've ever encountered on a plane. He offered to hold my son while I got situated and started playing with him. Liam of course gave him huge smiles. He commented on how good my baby was, and I replied with "Well, 99% of the time at least." He then said, "Well, let me know if I can help you out with the other 1%"
And might I add that Liam was good, 99% of the entire flight. He fussed only when he was hungry, and right before his nap. The rest of the time he was all giggles. I couldn't have asked for a better baby or a more helpful crew.
That all abruptly ended once I got on my final connection however.
First of all, I only had a 35 minute layover to begin with. Once I got off the plane I had a whole 7 minutes before the plane was set to depart. Luckily about 40 other people had the same problem so they held the plane an extra 10 minutes, but that didn't stop the racing through the airport while loaded with extremely too many accutraments.
I thought I would have the 3 seats to myself since the last I had checked no one was sitting in the middle seat. No such luck, but ultimately not a huge deal. Just one more thing to deal with after exhausting myself moments earlier. Then, the girl sitting in front of Liam keeps slamming her seat back, trying to recline it. The guy sitting next to her looks back, sees the carseat, and explains to her that's why she can't recline her seat back. I feel bad, but really, what can I do?
Apparently something.
As the flight attendant comes by, she complains that she thinks her seat is jammed. (which at this point she knows is not the case) When the flight attendant explains that it's because of the carseat, she asks if they can move. On a packed plane. The flight attendant then turns to me and asks me to turn my carseat around WHILE I WAS NURSING, so that she could recline her seat, explaining that having a rear facing carseat is only important during take-off and landing. Seriously?! So, while nursing my son in one arm, I use the other to unbuckle the seat belt, turn the carseat around, and resituate everything. Now my son is facing her seat, and kicking at his toy wildly. I hope that extra 2 inches was worth it.
At this point I'm still on the plane, with a good 4 hours or more left, and I'm still partly fuming, part ready to burst into tears. It didn't help that Liam is at that stage where he is starting to babble, and the easiest sound for a baby to pronounce? "Da" So here is my son, cuddling the daddy doll, saying "Dada Dada Dada." I almost lost it.

Day 16: Someone or something you definitely could live without.

This is a hard one to answer, and yes, I know I've said that about quite a few of these questions. My problem with this one is that there are so many things in this world I think are non-essential. I am not one of those people who goes camping and thinks, "Oh my God! What am I going to do without my phone, and texting, and computers, and internet!?!?!" Although even that statement is probably out of date because now people are concerned with iPads, and 24/7 Tweets, and robotic arms that wipe their butts for them. Ok, so maybe that last one doesn't exist yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if was invented in the next few years. (And be honest, there are probably a few of you that thought, "Hey, that's a good idea")
I'm not saying I'm Laura Ingalls Wilder or anything. I certainly use my phone, and computer, and obviously the internet, but I can go without these things for a while without going crazy. My husband and I own a t.v., but we don't have cable. And every time I think we should get it, I watch t.v. at someone else's house and realize that I have very little interest in paying to search through the guide over and over again, hoping to find something worth watching. Hulu and Netflix give me all I could ever need in terms of boob tube entertainment.
So, I guess if I had to come up with a specific answer it would be cable t.v., but my point to this post was that way too many people rely on superfluous technology.

camping back in 2006ish.
Yes, that's me. Completely disgusted with everyone

It's Sunday? Already?

I am SO tired. The little one is in the middle of teething and has made it a habit of waking up screaming in the middle of the night. It's bad enough that I still have to wake every 2-3 hours to feed him.
In fact, I just realized I'm actually too tired to write this post. I'm spacing out and practically falling asleep at the keyboard. I think I'm going to take a short nap before I have to leave for church

INSANITY!!

I'm getting psyched up to get back to Hawaii and get my butt kicked. That's right, my good friend Mrs. R. bought the Insanity workout and I'll be joining her once I get back. Unfortunately I can't go full out with the whole diet because I'm breastfeeding, but I look forward to shedding this baby weight and then some. Being in this cold weather, hidden by sweaters and jackets, leaves very little motivation to look skinnier, and all the frigid air means even less motivation to get outside at all.
It's definitely going to help having someone there to cheer me on and do everything alongside me. In just a few months I'm gonna be one hot mama!

My Duty as a Mother

So I believe that it is the duty of every mother to get one of those naked sheepskin pictures of their babies. And, as a dutiful mother I have done just that!

There are much more embarrassing pictures, if you will, but I plan on saving those for his first girlfriend. OK, maybe not, but if my husband decides to greet our daughter's boyfriend with a shotgun the pictures are coming out. I figure it's only fair.
In other news, Mr. Liam has become quite the grabber. He has become so interested in everything that other people have. His three favorites things?

1. People's faces. Particularly mouths. And hair. He loves exploring the different textures.
2. Food. Particularly cups of liquid. He gets excited every time I drink a glass of water while holding him. He flaps his arms until I move the glass near his face, then practically faceplants the cup. Of course he hasn't quite figured out how to suck the liquid so he just gums the edge of the glass and the water dribbles down his face, but he thinks it's a fun game nonetheless.
3. And most recently, cell phones. Now every time I hold him while I'm on the phone he grabs the bottom and tries to tear it out of my hands. A toy with buttons and lights is a must in the near future.

Other than that today has been a pretty boring day. I've been focusing on getting boxes organized and packed, attempting to figure out which presents need to come home now and which can be saved for later. I can't believe I only have a week left here. It's going to be bittersweet leaving everyone here behind. And something I thought I'd never say... I can't wait to get back to Hawaii! Moreso for the people than anything else. But being able to wear sandals is a plus too.

Day 15: Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.

This would definitely have to be my husband.
My husband and I have known each other for close to 13 years at this point, and have been in and out of a relationship for almost 8 of those years. (still crazy to think about) We have been separated by deployments. We have struggled with the effects of war and the sudden transition to civilian-hood. He has struggled with the idea of permanence and I have struggled watching him run away so that he could find himself again. We have lived hundreds to thousands of miles away from each other and dated other people. We have tried being apart.
And it never worked.
No matter what the reason for the separation we always found ourselves back in each other's arms. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

We Heart Wednesday

I figured I would jump on the bandwagon.

I <3 Photography. I love being able to capture special moments in a form that lasts forever. Photos help you relive moments and even look at things in a way you hadn't imagined before. Go ahead and stop over at Briemarie and see what other people heart.

Day 14- A hero that has let you down.

This is the one I have been trying to avoid answering.
I have been stealing the topics for each day from Mrs. Heather Lynn. Even though I've already read all of her responses I make it a point to at least skim through what she has written for each one to help give me some ideas for what to write about. This particular post was the hardest to read, because around this time a good friend of ours lost his best friend in combat.
He was not the first to have died in combat, and he won't be the last. So many have lost their spouses, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, friends....
So I ask you not to think about those who have let you down, but for the heroes who have sacrificed everything for you.

So yesterday I spent hours revamping my blog, and today I spent hours researching my education/career goals to live up to my new blog title. I've probably reread the same website over a dozen times, and each time it seems I find out more information. Like today. I just noticed that while the deadline for Navy and Airforce is January of the year of enrollment, Army requires that you submit your application the April beforehand. As in 2 months from now. Yay.
That complicates things a little seeing as I will have to submit my application as a civilian, even though I plan on being active duty before actually entering the program. Besides the fact that there isn't time to go through MEPS and retake the ASVAB before then, I'm not allowed to join until the hubs reaches his EAS in 2012. If I miss the April 2011 deadline I won't be able to attend until Fall '13. And I really don't want to wait that long.

Though I wonder what I would be doing as an active duty officer while I'm waiting to attend classes. I guess getting paid an officer's salary to do menial paperwork for a while wouldn't be that bad...

Knock Knock. Who's There? Mr Tooth.

Well, Mr. Tooth, won't you come join us?
No, I'm going to just sit here under the gums for a while.

In case you didn't guess, my son is teething. Do we have anything to show for it yet? Of course not. Just a miserable baby who can't nurse without crying, who chokes on excess saliva, and spits up way more often than normal. He's still generally happy, but every once and a while we get a shrill scream of pain. I'm surprised our crystal is still in one piece.
Of all the things my husband misses I am sure this is not one of them. He may be sad to miss Mr. Tooth's first appearance, but even the grandparents throw him back in my arms when those screams erupt.
I guess I was spoiled up to this point. I have a picture of my son spitting up, but that was probably the only time that whole week he spit up at all, and only because I tried to feed him 4 oz of milk from a bottle before his stomach could handle that much. Now spit up is my life. I probably change his and my clothes 3 times a day. He even leaned over and spit a Tbs or so all over the floor last night.

Not to mention that now, if it's near his mouth it's fair game to bite. Heck, even if it's not he'll throw his face into whatever it is with his mouth open wide.

Day 13: A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days

I'm supposed to write a letter to them, but I'm not going to. Honestly, I can't even think of one band in particular that has helped me more than any other. There are songs I relate to, songs that make me cry, songs that make me dance around the living room. And for those of you who really know me this next part might shock you a little. If I were to pick 2 bands (because I can't pick just 1) whose majority of songs have kept me strong, I would have to pick FLAW and Five Finger Death Punch. If you've never heard of them, or have and are shaking your head in disbelief, go read their lyrics, particulary

FLAW :
My Letter
Only the Strong
Best I am*

5FDP :
Never Enough
No One Gets Left Behind
Undone

Five finger death punch more so reminds me of my husband and everything he has done. Their lyrics are very political sometimes (No One Gets Left Behind) but most of them deal with war and fitting in with society. If you can look behind the heavy rock the lyrics are actually very profound and emotional. Just ask my cousin, who listened as my husband sang their songs and broke into sobs. She asked if that is really the way a lot of marines grunts feel, and yes. Yes it is.

I've spent so much time working on my blog today I figured what's one more post...
I stopped by miss Emmy Lou over at Mama Days and was introduced to a new artist, JJ Heller. I have to say I completely love her voice. I found her song, When I Leave, particularly touching. So here it is.

Am I too busy chasing a temporary fortune
That my priorities get lost along the road
The seasons bring their moments
They linger for an instant
They never wait for you to pay the debts you owe

When I leave I want to leave a memory filled with love
The kind you don’t forget
When I go I want to be known
As one who lived with no regrets

If life is like a flower
Am I doing all that’s in my power
To leave a fragrance behind
It’s time to count my blessings
Forget about my savings account for a while

I want them to say
What a glorious day
She had so much to gain
But she gave it away
And I want them to see something different in me
And that I’m going to be free

Some glad morning when this life is over
I’ll fly away
To a home on God’s celestial shore
I’ll fly away
When I leave I want to leave a memory...

Day 12: Something you never get complimented on

I honestly can't think of something. Not to say I'm perfect. There are tons of things I'm sure I don't get complimented on, like my elbows, or the way I drive, or the music I listen to, or my shoes, or the way I make coffee....but none of them are particularly interesting enough to write about. And just because you've never been complimented on something doesn't mean you're bad at it. I think this post is really supposed be about some flaw that no one would ever praise you on, and that's simply just stupid. Everyone has flaws in one way or another, but unless they are detrimental to you or someone else there's no real point in dwelling on them. I am quite average at many things that are not worth of praise, but I'm content with that.
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I also promised the hubby I would start a daily blog of our adventures and baby progression. I'm still thinking of a new title for this blog since the one I have is extremely outdated. I changed my banner a while back, but I'm thinking of making that a sidebar and revamping the whole things. Any suggestions are appreciated.
But as I promised, today was quite an eventful day in the life of our little one, and it's barely noon yet. Today he found his toes! It was quite by happenstance I believe, and partly my fault doing.

After I changed his diaper this morning I decided to let him air dry per usual. He was acting so cute that I decided to grab my camera and start taking pictures. I got a few in before all of a sudden a stream of urine flew onto his stomach. Shocked and disgusted he looked down as if to say, "What the heck was that?!?!" Of course by this point the stream had finished and all he saw were his little feet wiggling in the air. His face immediately turned to one of intrigue, and he lay there for about 10 minutes just playing with his toes. I'm so glad to have inspired my child's discovery.

Day 11: Something people seem to compliment you the most on.

If we're talking general populous, most of them just comment on how friendly I am. I don't really know how much else to elaborate on that. The comments are general in nature, and well, I'm generally friendly.
But for those who know me really well, they compliment me on how resilient I am. I've been through a lot and somehow I've managed to bounce back through all of it. Over time I've become more accepting to change and being able to handle the hard things in life. Part of that comes with being a military spouse I guess.

Day 10: Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.

We'll call this person "Paper." I could psychoanalyze her up and down, but I'll save you the meaningless terms and psycho babble. Let's just say this person has a very negative personality and likes to create drama to get attention. Because bad attention is better than no attention, right?
For some people, I guess.
Sadly this person is married to one of my husband's friends so eliminating her from life is nearly impossible. So I grin and bare it and help her out when I can, because I'm that kind of person. I can't stand seeing someone upset, no matter who they are. I've put way too much energy in trying to appease this person, and all she does is take and take and take. I could tell her my cat died and she would probably respond by saying her t.v. broke and now she has nothing to do and so her situation is more important. She has honestly done something very similar in the past.
But I don't like bad mouthing people, so I will end this here, as much as I could spend hours ranting

Day 9- Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.

I've decided to double up on posts to make up for all the days I didn't have time.

Looking back on all the people I knew and all the people I don't talk to anymore I'd have to say that for most of them we just grew apart due to changing interests or different life paths. There are two people however that, while I still keep in contact with them occasionally, I wish we communicated more.
One of them is Lucy. She was one of the two friends I talked about in my previous post, one of the people who stood by me through all the hard times. After high school she moved to Wales to go to college. As far as I know she's still living there with her boyfriend. I guess living halfway around the world is a good excuse not to visit each other, but I wish we still talked more.
The other one is Shana. I met Shana in college, by chance. She sat on the other side of the room in my Italian class, and when I found out she was the only other person in the class who played a musical instrument we decided to study together. It turns out we had quite a bit in common, and I loved writing lyrics with her and singing while she played the guitar.
It makes things difficult because she doesn't like my husband - she knew me at a time when he did something to break my heart and doesn't believe in second chances. While she's accepted that I am happy she has decided that she doesn't ever want to like him as a person, even though they are so similar it's scary. I wish she could get past it because I know they could talk for hours about the zombie apocalypse, and religion, and German language, culture, and bands. The living on the other side of the world doesn't really help things either.

Day 8 - Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.

I was the class reject through most of elementary school and middle school so a lot of people fall under this category, but there is one person who stands out from them all. Christina Hand. She didn't push me down, or call me names, or claim I had cooties like the other kids. No, she was far more manipulative. She pretended to be my friend, only she would steal from me, "accidentally" destroy my things, and spread rumors behind my back. She told the only real two friends I had that I liked the other one better, then went to the guidance counselor and told her I had shoved her and one of my other female friends (for the record, a girl she had never met) into a closet and told my parents they were having sex. Of course when I denied it the guidance counselor didn't believe me and I had to explain to my other 4th grade friends that I was not a pervert. Yes, 4th grade.
She did things like invite me to her birthday party, then force me to sleep on a kitchen chair. She invited herself over to my house when my parents had specifically forbid it, then laughed while my parents screamed at me for disobeying them.
I don't know why I continued to hang out with her, and I don't know what possessed her to be so calculating. She moved away a year later and probably did the same things to some other poor girl in her new city.
I'm torn between hating her and feeling sorry for her. It took me years to get over the things she did to me. But I still have to wonder how bad her life must have been to make her resort to that kind of behavior at such a young age. I hope for her sake that she was able to grow out of it.