My baby is no longer a baby. Vitt is officially a pre-schooler today. I just can't believe it. I truly feel like I just had him. Time is a fickle thing at times. It's like the tortoise and the hare on crack. One minute it's dragging by, slowly but surely. The next minute, it's zipping by all hippity hop and you wonder where it went.
I no longer have a good solid reason to go down the baby aisle at the grocery store. We haven't bought diapers in over a month. All the baby food and formula are long gone in this house. It's right sad....yet liberating.
I can now look forward to T-ball games. All the boy stuff that is an unfamiliar world to me. I can handle ballet recitals and Girl Scout meetings without blinking. Now I have to psyche myself up for all kind of boy things. It's like learning a new language or being in a foreign country. But, I'm excited to do it.
This is my baby. He will tell people, when prompted, "I Mama's boyfriend." And he is! I will always have this incredible male that will love me til he dies no matter what. I see my brother being very protective of my mother and that's what I want one day. My nephew will be five tomorrow and I see the love he has for his Mama. It's just a good thing for a boy to do.
Sure, I'm sad about how fast he's growing. Yet I see how fast he learns. I see how he puts adult gloves on to help his Dad plant a tree in the yard. He works so hard and acts so grown. Then? He still has the awkward moment when he trips over his feet and falls down. Only to get up and run to me because he's got a boo-boo and needs me to kiss it so it will be all better.
There are times I could seriously eat that kid up with a spoon.
This is a good kid to end my fever. I no longer get all mushy inside with wanting when holding a baby. I don't sit and think....maybe one more kid. I am through with baby food and diapers and formula. And it's okay. Finally. *releases a deep breath*
Now I gotta brainwash him into saying "I'm Three!!!", while holding up three fingers. I attempted this yesterday and he kept telling me..."NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!! I TWO!" ...while holding up two fingers.
Happy Birthday, Vitt! You complete our family in such a perfect way.
We love you so much.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Sunday, April 01, 2007
My Hands....my Mama's Hands.....
My mother's hands are showing their age. Her knuckles are swollen from arthritis and age spots dot the back of her hands. But, those hands of hers.......God above.....they mean so very much to me. Growing up, she would tell me stories of her own youth. She grew up one of eleven children. My Grandaddy was a farmer who was quick to put his brood to work in the fields. Mama would tell of how she had to crop tobacco and all the hard back-breaking work that goes into getting it to the barn to be cured. I'm fuzzy on this, but I do believe she might've picked some cotton also. I heard of how a couple of my uncles ran to hide in the corn field to escape punishment and how my Grandaddy sat and waited for it get dark and for them to get hungry. They came trudging out of that corn field to get supper and good whuppin'.
Then she got married and worked in a sewing room for many years. Alot of times she worked production and work hard. This was so she could make some extra money. Decorating cakes on the side for some change, along with the sewing has made arthritis her constant enemy. She finally got an office job that she knew nothing about. But, she taught herself business, computers, and public relations. She totally ran that place by the time she left.
Now her sewing skills are back in play and she works by her rules. When the arthritis is too bad, she can rest and not be penalized for it. Next time you visit a Medieval Times show....my mom probably made that ornate costume you're admiring. I am in awe of her abilities.
Because my mom has worked so hard all her life, chances are I may not get this debilitating arthritis in the knuckles of my hands. I might get to avoid the constant pain that years of sacrifice can cause.
As I sat in church today, a spot on the back of my hand caught my eye. At first I thought I had something there and tried to wipe it off. It stayed. I then licked my finger to see if that would do (because we all know Mama's Spit is magical stuff). It stayed. I was hit below the belt unexpectedly. I've got my first age spot.
And I started thinking about my Mama. How I've looked at her hands and winced because I know how badly they hurt her. How the knuckles will only get worse with time and there's nothing I can do to take the pain away. How those spots that bother her vanity on occasion show up in bright sunlight. Spots she got from working in the sun as a young girl when sunscreen wasn'teven an option.
Where did my spot come from? It sure didn't come from working in the sun. I was never made to do that. My mother and father made sure of it. Yes, I got a public job starting at age 16. But, it was indoors. In a nice climate controlled pharmacy.
I didn't wear sunscreen because I forced my Nordic type skin to tan summer after summer. By hook or crook, I had color that was not supposed to be me. Laying out for hours.......baking in a tanning bed. Looking back now and having had two suspicious places removed on my back, I just mutter "stupid stupid stupid" over and over again. I refuse to allow my own daughter to lay out in the sun...trying to preserve her precious Nordic skin. I slather all kids with sunscreen when we venture out in the hot blazing sun.
My mother will leave this earth one day. And when she gets to the gates of heaven ( I know for a fact she'll see that gate), she'll be able to hold her hands out to Saint Peter and show him personally her evidence of hard work on this earth. What will I show him? Age spots from a stupid youth?
But, she will go through those gates. And she will be rid of swollen knuckles and spots that won't go away.
I just have had my Mama on my mind today. It's not Mother's Day* or her birthday. It's just me, taking the time to let her know ....well.....that I know. I finally get it.
*Reminder: I will be posting weekly reminders. Mother's Day is still the ROYAL WEEKEND here. Fred's dad mentioned he might come for a weekend visit in the not so distant future. I told Fred to tell him to come that weekend so he can participate in the royal activities. Then, I was like.....maybe that's not a good idea because the two of them will be gone playing golf all day and me chasing Vitt is not my idea of royal treatment.
Then she got married and worked in a sewing room for many years. Alot of times she worked production and work hard. This was so she could make some extra money. Decorating cakes on the side for some change, along with the sewing has made arthritis her constant enemy. She finally got an office job that she knew nothing about. But, she taught herself business, computers, and public relations. She totally ran that place by the time she left.
Now her sewing skills are back in play and she works by her rules. When the arthritis is too bad, she can rest and not be penalized for it. Next time you visit a Medieval Times show....my mom probably made that ornate costume you're admiring. I am in awe of her abilities.
Because my mom has worked so hard all her life, chances are I may not get this debilitating arthritis in the knuckles of my hands. I might get to avoid the constant pain that years of sacrifice can cause.
As I sat in church today, a spot on the back of my hand caught my eye. At first I thought I had something there and tried to wipe it off. It stayed. I then licked my finger to see if that would do (because we all know Mama's Spit is magical stuff). It stayed. I was hit below the belt unexpectedly. I've got my first age spot.
And I started thinking about my Mama. How I've looked at her hands and winced because I know how badly they hurt her. How the knuckles will only get worse with time and there's nothing I can do to take the pain away. How those spots that bother her vanity on occasion show up in bright sunlight. Spots she got from working in the sun as a young girl when sunscreen wasn'teven an option.
Where did my spot come from? It sure didn't come from working in the sun. I was never made to do that. My mother and father made sure of it. Yes, I got a public job starting at age 16. But, it was indoors. In a nice climate controlled pharmacy.
I didn't wear sunscreen because I forced my Nordic type skin to tan summer after summer. By hook or crook, I had color that was not supposed to be me. Laying out for hours.......baking in a tanning bed. Looking back now and having had two suspicious places removed on my back, I just mutter "stupid stupid stupid" over and over again. I refuse to allow my own daughter to lay out in the sun...trying to preserve her precious Nordic skin. I slather all kids with sunscreen when we venture out in the hot blazing sun.
My mother will leave this earth one day. And when she gets to the gates of heaven ( I know for a fact she'll see that gate), she'll be able to hold her hands out to Saint Peter and show him personally her evidence of hard work on this earth. What will I show him? Age spots from a stupid youth?
But, she will go through those gates. And she will be rid of swollen knuckles and spots that won't go away.
I just have had my Mama on my mind today. It's not Mother's Day* or her birthday. It's just me, taking the time to let her know ....well.....that I know. I finally get it.
*Reminder: I will be posting weekly reminders. Mother's Day is still the ROYAL WEEKEND here. Fred's dad mentioned he might come for a weekend visit in the not so distant future. I told Fred to tell him to come that weekend so he can participate in the royal activities. Then, I was like.....maybe that's not a good idea because the two of them will be gone playing golf all day and me chasing Vitt is not my idea of royal treatment.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Spring Break 2007
We are in the midst of Spring Break 2007. And I'm not too happy about it. Let me tell you why.
Back home in good ol' South Carolina, this break usually takes place during Easter. Our former school gives everyone Good Friday off and that's mostly because prom takes place that evening and none of the girls getting ready would show up that day anyway. Everyone heads to the beach for the beginning of good times the next week. (ohhh..the memories.....)
What is this? Having the break now? No Good Friday off? No real recognition of Easter? Not liking it one bit.
We headed home for a visit last weekend. The girls had the shortest visitation on record with their dad. Almost 3 and a half hours. Paige was determined not to go and when I made her, girlfriend decided to show me. She showed her entire butt until her dad called me to say they were coming home. Makenna was sick and it was also my niece's birthday, so in the end it worked out.
Except for Paige. Because of her actions, she lost her IPOD and cell phone upon her sitting down in the van. I was embarrassed because we all know our children's actions are a reflection on ourselves. I know. I know. We can't really control them and my mother in law is totally thinking I've forgotten all her teachings when she reads this. But, there was no sense in it. All I could think was this was fuel for the stepmother's twisted fire. Paige was required to write a letter of apology. One to her father and one to her stepmother. Requirements were that she apologize for her behavior. After that, I took a page from the counselor's book and let her do an "I feel..." section. This was her chance to state her issues with what's going on with them. The letter was to be no less than 200 words. Her dad's was over 800 and the step-mom's over 400. My baby can so write when motivated.
Paige then proceeded to get sick. Allergies and maybe a touch of a virus just put her down for the count. She received her cell phone back upon the mailing of the letters, but the IPOD was gone until Wednesday. Oh, the horror! Fred decided she needed to ride four hours back home Tuesday without the comfort of the IPOD. I don't think we'll ever do that again.
Have you ever ridden with an almost 13 year old for four hours? Who is sick? Who sits in the back row? Who has almost lost her voice and can't fully participate in the conversation? Who constantly says for you to "turn up the radio!" and "turn it down, I can't hear what you're saying!" Almost gave me the shakes.
Makenna is finally better after getting on some Zyrtec (spelling? not so sure and am too lazy to get up and go look at bottle). But, if we miss one dose? She is miserable the next day. We are religious with this every night before bed.
And my baby boy. God Bless him. He has just about potty trained himself. We just provide the underwear and pit stops. Being home meant being back in the country. Sitting on my mother's front porch, I saw him heading across the yard and stop and grab his privates. I hollered..."Pull your shorts down! Pee pee on the tree right there!" Why did I ever do that? Now outdoors is fair game. We live in a neighborhood. I was sitting outside and happened to look over at the park yesterday. I saw the full moon shining. He was peeing on the fence. We get out of the van under the carport and he runs to the side, pulls down his shorts, and lets it go with a big "AHHHHHH". We are doomed. He will be potty trained and arrested constantly for public indecent exposure. Save your change, people. We'll need it for bail.
Three days left til they go back to school and break time is officially over. My, how time flies when people are bored and don't want to do their chores, but want to go and do and whatnot. And, yeah, that was sarcasm.
Back home in good ol' South Carolina, this break usually takes place during Easter. Our former school gives everyone Good Friday off and that's mostly because prom takes place that evening and none of the girls getting ready would show up that day anyway. Everyone heads to the beach for the beginning of good times the next week. (ohhh..the memories.....)
What is this? Having the break now? No Good Friday off? No real recognition of Easter? Not liking it one bit.
We headed home for a visit last weekend. The girls had the shortest visitation on record with their dad. Almost 3 and a half hours. Paige was determined not to go and when I made her, girlfriend decided to show me. She showed her entire butt until her dad called me to say they were coming home. Makenna was sick and it was also my niece's birthday, so in the end it worked out.
Except for Paige. Because of her actions, she lost her IPOD and cell phone upon her sitting down in the van. I was embarrassed because we all know our children's actions are a reflection on ourselves. I know. I know. We can't really control them and my mother in law is totally thinking I've forgotten all her teachings when she reads this. But, there was no sense in it. All I could think was this was fuel for the stepmother's twisted fire. Paige was required to write a letter of apology. One to her father and one to her stepmother. Requirements were that she apologize for her behavior. After that, I took a page from the counselor's book and let her do an "I feel..." section. This was her chance to state her issues with what's going on with them. The letter was to be no less than 200 words. Her dad's was over 800 and the step-mom's over 400. My baby can so write when motivated.
Paige then proceeded to get sick. Allergies and maybe a touch of a virus just put her down for the count. She received her cell phone back upon the mailing of the letters, but the IPOD was gone until Wednesday. Oh, the horror! Fred decided she needed to ride four hours back home Tuesday without the comfort of the IPOD. I don't think we'll ever do that again.
Have you ever ridden with an almost 13 year old for four hours? Who is sick? Who sits in the back row? Who has almost lost her voice and can't fully participate in the conversation? Who constantly says for you to "turn up the radio!" and "turn it down, I can't hear what you're saying!" Almost gave me the shakes.
Makenna is finally better after getting on some Zyrtec (spelling? not so sure and am too lazy to get up and go look at bottle). But, if we miss one dose? She is miserable the next day. We are religious with this every night before bed.
And my baby boy. God Bless him. He has just about potty trained himself. We just provide the underwear and pit stops. Being home meant being back in the country. Sitting on my mother's front porch, I saw him heading across the yard and stop and grab his privates. I hollered..."Pull your shorts down! Pee pee on the tree right there!" Why did I ever do that? Now outdoors is fair game. We live in a neighborhood. I was sitting outside and happened to look over at the park yesterday. I saw the full moon shining. He was peeing on the fence. We get out of the van under the carport and he runs to the side, pulls down his shorts, and lets it go with a big "AHHHHHH". We are doomed. He will be potty trained and arrested constantly for public indecent exposure. Save your change, people. We'll need it for bail.
Three days left til they go back to school and break time is officially over. My, how time flies when people are bored and don't want to do their chores, but want to go and do and whatnot. And, yeah, that was sarcasm.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Careful Now
Fred and I were out and about yesterday. Yes! By ourselves! We had some errands to run and I had to go by the super of marts because I had a meeting* at 6 p.m. and volunteered to bring something sweet. After leaving the super of marts, we decided to swing by the Chick Fillet for supper. I needed to eat before the meeting and he was in charge of supper, so Chick it was!
We were leaving C.F. to head back to house. I was preparing my sandwich so I could taste its chicken goodness when he hit the brakes "firmly"** and did a little jerk thing with the steering wheel. I paused a second to say "Whoa, now. Need to quit that jerking stuff." Then what? He had to swerve a little as I went to take a bite. I stopped. Looked at him. And said.....
"I have powers. Don't make me use them."
I then proceeded to eat my meal in peace for he was so afraid. ~snort~ Yeah, right.
* A meeting! Me! I am doing some volunteer work so that my resume will have something recent for when I go back in the work force when Vitt is in 4k. Smart me! Well, my Mama told me it would be a good thing to do.
**This is another post for another time, but suffice to say my husband and brakes in any vehicle he drives? They are close intimate friends by the time he gets where he is going.
We were leaving C.F. to head back to house. I was preparing my sandwich so I could taste its chicken goodness when he hit the brakes "firmly"** and did a little jerk thing with the steering wheel. I paused a second to say "Whoa, now. Need to quit that jerking stuff." Then what? He had to swerve a little as I went to take a bite. I stopped. Looked at him. And said.....
"I have powers. Don't make me use them."
I then proceeded to eat my meal in peace for he was so afraid. ~snort~ Yeah, right.
* A meeting! Me! I am doing some volunteer work so that my resume will have something recent for when I go back in the work force when Vitt is in 4k. Smart me! Well, my Mama told me it would be a good thing to do.
**This is another post for another time, but suffice to say my husband and brakes in any vehicle he drives? They are close intimate friends by the time he gets where he is going.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Times are Changing
Time changed early this year. And there was a lot of grumbling about it. We're all used to this happening in April and October. Society doesn't like change, therefore, there were many unhappy people expressing their dislike over the turn of events.
Not me. I thought I might grumble a tad bit my own self until Vitt slept later. It was heaven. I could get the rest dressed and gone for the day while he slept. I could then get my first cup of coffee and head to the computer to check email and maybe play a game or two. Heck, I could even watch grown-up television. See some Good Morning America like old times. He would sleep until around 8 a.m., which qualified as Christmas in my book.
Then he got adjusted. Dangit. He adjusted and he's potty training. We went through a phase last week where we thought we had a newborn again. He was getting up around 1-2 a.m. and just being pure ornery. Getting in bed with us, giving Fred ten kinds of grief for some reason. Fred had circles under his eyes because Vitt wouldn't let him sleep. For some reason, he left me alone, but a squirming toddler in your bed does not make for quality sleep, people.
I finally figured out that he was waking up because he was having to potty. So, Fred started taking him to potty before bed. And this was working. Fred still gets tickled talking about how he weaves back and forth on the potty because he's still asleep.
This morning he woke up at 5 a.m. Just before Dad has to. And that's okay because he had pee'd in his pull-up and it woke him up. I could have slept through it but when your son calls out, "DAD. I pee my pullup" in a clear concise voice, it wakes you up no matter how hard you sleep.
He's adjusted to the time change and he's potty training.
I'm looking forward to these kids of ours having their own kids one day. I really am.
Oh, one more thing. I fix Makenna's hair every morning. We cannot put the comb or hairspray up until you have combed and put a touch of spray on Vitt's hair. He's not going anywhere, but he likes to be prepared I suppose. Wears me out.
Not me. I thought I might grumble a tad bit my own self until Vitt slept later. It was heaven. I could get the rest dressed and gone for the day while he slept. I could then get my first cup of coffee and head to the computer to check email and maybe play a game or two. Heck, I could even watch grown-up television. See some Good Morning America like old times. He would sleep until around 8 a.m., which qualified as Christmas in my book.
Then he got adjusted. Dangit. He adjusted and he's potty training. We went through a phase last week where we thought we had a newborn again. He was getting up around 1-2 a.m. and just being pure ornery. Getting in bed with us, giving Fred ten kinds of grief for some reason. Fred had circles under his eyes because Vitt wouldn't let him sleep. For some reason, he left me alone, but a squirming toddler in your bed does not make for quality sleep, people.
I finally figured out that he was waking up because he was having to potty. So, Fred started taking him to potty before bed. And this was working. Fred still gets tickled talking about how he weaves back and forth on the potty because he's still asleep.
This morning he woke up at 5 a.m. Just before Dad has to. And that's okay because he had pee'd in his pull-up and it woke him up. I could have slept through it but when your son calls out, "DAD. I pee my pullup" in a clear concise voice, it wakes you up no matter how hard you sleep.
He's adjusted to the time change and he's potty training.
I'm looking forward to these kids of ours having their own kids one day. I really am.
Oh, one more thing. I fix Makenna's hair every morning. We cannot put the comb or hairspray up until you have combed and put a touch of spray on Vitt's hair. He's not going anywhere, but he likes to be prepared I suppose. Wears me out.
Monday, March 19, 2007
What not to do
I've been meaning to mention this and life being the way it is....things tend to slip past and keep right on going.
There are some things in life you should never do. As you get older, you understand the wisdom of such rules and regulations and tend not to question them.
I forgot one very important one.
When you're having a conversation and your child brings you a glass of liquid and tells you to taste it? Do. Not. Do. It.
Because said child saw the lemon juice in the fridge and decided to make her own glass of ice cold lemonade and guess what? She forgot the key ingredient to making this concoction work is........
Know what it is yet?
Yeah.
Sugar.
It took me a while to recover from that.
I'm just passing on some good sound advice to all of you out there in Internet Land.
~shudder~
There are some things in life you should never do. As you get older, you understand the wisdom of such rules and regulations and tend not to question them.
I forgot one very important one.
When you're having a conversation and your child brings you a glass of liquid and tells you to taste it? Do. Not. Do. It.
Because said child saw the lemon juice in the fridge and decided to make her own glass of ice cold lemonade and guess what? She forgot the key ingredient to making this concoction work is........
Know what it is yet?
Yeah.
Sugar.
It took me a while to recover from that.
I'm just passing on some good sound advice to all of you out there in Internet Land.
~shudder~
Friday, March 16, 2007
You need to do this....
Iffen you have an extra moment, please click on Mr. Cookie's link to the right of the page. He's got some really good Saint Paddy jokes out today that literally made me laugh out loud.
Go and enjoy!
Go and enjoy!
An apology
Dear Vitt,
Remember back around Valentine's Day? When Mama had to get a whole new set of keys because it was determined that you had lost mine?
Uh...yeah.
Mama loves purses. Alot. She doesn't buy alot of them because she's very picky about them. But, when one strikes her fancy, she has no choice but to purchase it because it's the right thing to do. I hope you will understand this one day.
Well, when the keys were lost, both Dad and I searched that purse at least a dozen times. We honestly did.
Yesterday I noticed the checkbook was put in wrong and decided to straighten it out. You see, when Dad puts things back in my purse, he kind of just puts them there and leaves it to me to put it back to my personal specifications.
I...uh....went to straighten the checkbook and noticed something odd. First it was in a side pocket that I truly didn't know existed. And at first I thought the shiny things in the bottom of said pocket were quarters.
I know.
It was my set of lost keys.
Dude, I'm sorry I blamed you. Really I am. I know just because 90% of all missing things in our home...you seem to be involved ....we shouldn't jump to blame you automatically.
It was an honest blame. Forgive us, please.
love,
Mama and Dad
Remember back around Valentine's Day? When Mama had to get a whole new set of keys because it was determined that you had lost mine?
Uh...yeah.
Mama loves purses. Alot. She doesn't buy alot of them because she's very picky about them. But, when one strikes her fancy, she has no choice but to purchase it because it's the right thing to do. I hope you will understand this one day.
Well, when the keys were lost, both Dad and I searched that purse at least a dozen times. We honestly did.
Yesterday I noticed the checkbook was put in wrong and decided to straighten it out. You see, when Dad puts things back in my purse, he kind of just puts them there and leaves it to me to put it back to my personal specifications.
I...uh....went to straighten the checkbook and noticed something odd. First it was in a side pocket that I truly didn't know existed. And at first I thought the shiny things in the bottom of said pocket were quarters.
I know.
It was my set of lost keys.
Dude, I'm sorry I blamed you. Really I am. I know just because 90% of all missing things in our home...you seem to be involved ....we shouldn't jump to blame you automatically.
It was an honest blame. Forgive us, please.
love,
Mama and Dad
As it should be
Last night the hubby and I were watching t.v. As some of you know, it's time for that basketball thingy to happen. I tolerate some sports on the television because he doesn't ask for a whole lot and I actually understand basketball somewhat.
We've recently purchased a new area rug for the living room. It's shaggy and huge and very comfy to lay on. I find myself laying on it and reading my magazines or going through catalogs more and more. Last night Fred decided to join me on the floor as we watched the games. Of course, he knew that Grey's Anatomy is way more important than the basketball game and agreed to turn it there at 9 p.m. There would be alot of switching back to the game during commercial breaks and I had no problem with that.
Apparently my son has decided to put the lovely huge floor cushions in his room for whatever reason and Fred had already laid claim to the one that had found its way back to the living room.
And I said....."I would certainly love to have a floor cushion of my own. It's in Vitt's room if you are so inclined."
He just looked at me.
Then I said..."Look. I don't ask for much around here. But, I have given birth to your son...who, I might add inherited your big head and that big head of his messed my monkey up for a long time, so if I need a pillow, you should get it for me because I've already done my duty."...."I'm just saying..."
By then he was laughing at me because I am good and deserve one of those acting awards because I can say all of this with a straight serious face. Like I truly mean it.
And he got that pillow for me.
Me and my monkey appreciate it.
We've recently purchased a new area rug for the living room. It's shaggy and huge and very comfy to lay on. I find myself laying on it and reading my magazines or going through catalogs more and more. Last night Fred decided to join me on the floor as we watched the games. Of course, he knew that Grey's Anatomy is way more important than the basketball game and agreed to turn it there at 9 p.m. There would be alot of switching back to the game during commercial breaks and I had no problem with that.
Apparently my son has decided to put the lovely huge floor cushions in his room for whatever reason and Fred had already laid claim to the one that had found its way back to the living room.
And I said....."I would certainly love to have a floor cushion of my own. It's in Vitt's room if you are so inclined."
He just looked at me.
Then I said..."Look. I don't ask for much around here. But, I have given birth to your son...who, I might add inherited your big head and that big head of his messed my monkey up for a long time, so if I need a pillow, you should get it for me because I've already done my duty."...."I'm just saying..."
By then he was laughing at me because I am good and deserve one of those acting awards because I can say all of this with a straight serious face. Like I truly mean it.
And he got that pillow for me.
Me and my monkey appreciate it.
Monday, March 12, 2007
It Can Not Be Allowed
I have decided that my children can not play competitive sports. They just can't.
This past Saturday, Makenna had a competition with her AWANAS* group from church. Fred was going to go with her whilst I sat at home with The Boy. I came to the conclusion around Thursday that the whole family needed to go and support not only Makenna, but the church, too. We had to wake up very early Saturday morning as the church holding the games was an hour and a half away. I simply was not thrilled about it. Plus, the fact that I am NOT a morning person had alot to do with it. Even the large coffee from Mickey D's didn't help a whole lot. Let's not even mention the drive there. The non-driving idiots who were in the caravan that got their license from the local dollar store. The whole way there I promised Fred I was going to get a hold of that chick in the boxcar scion thingy. He's a good man. He pretty much ignores me and Paige begs the whole way for me not to humiliate her and get us kicked out of the church.
I did refrain. Barely. But, I did.
It was bedlam there! So many children. Running. Screaming. ~shudder~
Paige was awesome because she took control of her brother and let him play on the playground while Fred and I watched the games. I owe her bigtime for that one. I might even break down and take her for a latte.
The games began. Fred and I had no idea what was going on, but it was easy to figure out after a couple of rounds. No wonder Mak comes home from church exhausted on Sunday nights. Whoever invented this...my hat is off to you! They wear these kids out physically!! I don't know the names of the kids on Mak's team as we haven't been going to this church for long. You get so caught up in the excitement and find yourself screaming, "RUN BABIES RUN!!!!"
And run they did. Every game is played within/around this huge circle. Makenna participated in one game where you have to go all the way around the circle with a bean bag on your head. If it falls you must stop, put it back, and resume running. You are not allowed to hold it there. Teams of three lined up. One child took off around the circle. I saw Makenna waiting, jumping in place. When the kid got back around and gave it to Mak??? Oh, sweet Olympic medal. You should have seen our girl run. She put that beanbag on her head and she FLEW. Literally flew around that circle. Our people were on their feet urging her on. Me? "THAT'S MY BABY! THAT'S MY BABY!" When she got back around, her leader looked at me and was giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. I was amazed. Methinks the girl might have some athletic ability after watching her in the rest of the games. She definitely gets that from Fred.
I was so worn out after the games were done, I made the decree that the children simply could not do sports. I would end up a basket case for sure. Fred laughs, pats me on the shoulder and dreams of coaching winning teams. ~sigh~ And I thought ballet recitals were hard.
Oh, and their team GOT FIRST PLACE. Mak is hooked now. Nothing like a victory or a lucky hole in one to get you hooked on the game.
Lord, help me.
WAY TO GO, MAKENNA!
*AWANAS- how it was explained to me was this is like a Christian version of Boy/Girl Scouts. It's really a good deal and Mak is obsessed with it! The lesson parts and the games.
This past Saturday, Makenna had a competition with her AWANAS* group from church. Fred was going to go with her whilst I sat at home with The Boy. I came to the conclusion around Thursday that the whole family needed to go and support not only Makenna, but the church, too. We had to wake up very early Saturday morning as the church holding the games was an hour and a half away. I simply was not thrilled about it. Plus, the fact that I am NOT a morning person had alot to do with it. Even the large coffee from Mickey D's didn't help a whole lot. Let's not even mention the drive there. The non-driving idiots who were in the caravan that got their license from the local dollar store. The whole way there I promised Fred I was going to get a hold of that chick in the boxcar scion thingy. He's a good man. He pretty much ignores me and Paige begs the whole way for me not to humiliate her and get us kicked out of the church.
I did refrain. Barely. But, I did.
It was bedlam there! So many children. Running. Screaming. ~shudder~
Paige was awesome because she took control of her brother and let him play on the playground while Fred and I watched the games. I owe her bigtime for that one. I might even break down and take her for a latte.
The games began. Fred and I had no idea what was going on, but it was easy to figure out after a couple of rounds. No wonder Mak comes home from church exhausted on Sunday nights. Whoever invented this...my hat is off to you! They wear these kids out physically!! I don't know the names of the kids on Mak's team as we haven't been going to this church for long. You get so caught up in the excitement and find yourself screaming, "RUN BABIES RUN!!!!"
And run they did. Every game is played within/around this huge circle. Makenna participated in one game where you have to go all the way around the circle with a bean bag on your head. If it falls you must stop, put it back, and resume running. You are not allowed to hold it there. Teams of three lined up. One child took off around the circle. I saw Makenna waiting, jumping in place. When the kid got back around and gave it to Mak??? Oh, sweet Olympic medal. You should have seen our girl run. She put that beanbag on her head and she FLEW. Literally flew around that circle. Our people were on their feet urging her on. Me? "THAT'S MY BABY! THAT'S MY BABY!" When she got back around, her leader looked at me and was giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. I was amazed. Methinks the girl might have some athletic ability after watching her in the rest of the games. She definitely gets that from Fred.
I was so worn out after the games were done, I made the decree that the children simply could not do sports. I would end up a basket case for sure. Fred laughs, pats me on the shoulder and dreams of coaching winning teams. ~sigh~ And I thought ballet recitals were hard.
Oh, and their team GOT FIRST PLACE. Mak is hooked now. Nothing like a victory or a lucky hole in one to get you hooked on the game.
Lord, help me.
WAY TO GO, MAKENNA!
*AWANAS- how it was explained to me was this is like a Christian version of Boy/Girl Scouts. It's really a good deal and Mak is obsessed with it! The lesson parts and the games.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
As If
The Man and I were watching t.v. the other day when a commercial came on advertising a huge golf tournament coming in May. All the big names will be there. I asked the hubby if this was the tournament down in Ponte Vedra. He said he wasn't sure, but it could be and did I want to go?
I was laying on the floor and I turned to look at him sitting in the recliner.
The tournament takes place the weekend of May 13. May 13 is Mother's Day AND my birthday this year.
I simply said....."I don't hardly think so. That's the royal weekend in case you've forgotten."
I was laying on the floor and I turned to look at him sitting in the recliner.
The tournament takes place the weekend of May 13. May 13 is Mother's Day AND my birthday this year.
I simply said....."I don't hardly think so. That's the royal weekend in case you've forgotten."
Men
Men are funny creatures. They can't help it, though. DNA and testosterone just make them that way. A while back on a talk show, I heard a speaker say that men are problem solvers. Women like to talk things out, but men kick into problem solving mode automatically. I believe this to be true. The men in my life are problem solvers of huge proportions. My dad, brother, and especially my husband.
Now my husband is a manly man. There is nothing about him to suggest otherwise. When we were dating, he picked up a strange hobby. He started cross stitching. I kid you not. When I asked him about it, this is what I was told.
Alot of NFL teams make their players take ballet. Ballet helps with coordination and balance. It's not a widely advertised thing because it would be considered...ah....sissy? There are things "real" players have to do to stay on top of their game. So, he cross stitches. He is a nuclear electrician. He deals with motors and such....with lots and lots of tiny wires. When he was teaching power school, he wasn't dealing with motors on a regular basis, therefore he took up cross stitching to keep his dexterity and ability to focus in a very small area. I see his point and have a few nice pieces he's done in the past few years. ~shrugs~ When he's not on a boat, he occasionally works on something to keep the skills sharp.
He's not on a boat at this moment. He's working on some needlepoint/cross stitching with pillow cases for me. I personally don't have the patience to sit and do this, plus my eyes are going bad. It might take him a year or two to get it done.
Last night I came around the corner to see he had broken out a pillow case and was working on it. That was cool. Then I came farther in the room and guess what I saw?
Due to my newly re-arranged living room, the light isn't so good near his chair. And being the problem solver he is? He went and got his head band with the attached flash light on it and was wearing it to work. I just stopped and looked at him. And I said....
"Dude. You know what this means, right?"
"Yep. And I don't care. I need to be able to see."
"Oooookay, then. I just wanted to make sure you knew you opened yourself up to be blogged about."
I gotta admit. It was sort of manly looking, you know, the way he was doing it. He works on the boat with that head band thingy on, so he's really keeping his skills sharp.
Just wish I had the camera handy.
Now my husband is a manly man. There is nothing about him to suggest otherwise. When we were dating, he picked up a strange hobby. He started cross stitching. I kid you not. When I asked him about it, this is what I was told.
Alot of NFL teams make their players take ballet. Ballet helps with coordination and balance. It's not a widely advertised thing because it would be considered...ah....sissy? There are things "real" players have to do to stay on top of their game. So, he cross stitches. He is a nuclear electrician. He deals with motors and such....with lots and lots of tiny wires. When he was teaching power school, he wasn't dealing with motors on a regular basis, therefore he took up cross stitching to keep his dexterity and ability to focus in a very small area. I see his point and have a few nice pieces he's done in the past few years. ~shrugs~ When he's not on a boat, he occasionally works on something to keep the skills sharp.
He's not on a boat at this moment. He's working on some needlepoint/cross stitching with pillow cases for me. I personally don't have the patience to sit and do this, plus my eyes are going bad. It might take him a year or two to get it done.
Last night I came around the corner to see he had broken out a pillow case and was working on it. That was cool. Then I came farther in the room and guess what I saw?
Due to my newly re-arranged living room, the light isn't so good near his chair. And being the problem solver he is? He went and got his head band with the attached flash light on it and was wearing it to work. I just stopped and looked at him. And I said....
"Dude. You know what this means, right?"
"Yep. And I don't care. I need to be able to see."
"Oooookay, then. I just wanted to make sure you knew you opened yourself up to be blogged about."
I gotta admit. It was sort of manly looking, you know, the way he was doing it. He works on the boat with that head band thingy on, so he's really keeping his skills sharp.
Just wish I had the camera handy.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
An Edgy Weekend
We had decent sized weekend here. Lu and the girls got here Friday evening a little later than we expected, but it was all good. Paige skipped out on us and went to a friend's house Friday night. I was leery of letting her go. It's hard moving to a new place and not knowing everyone. And Fred and I are probably over protective...to a degree that borders on illegal in some countries. The girl she was staying with? Her mom and dad are divorced, but Dad lives next door. Mom works til midnight, but dad was there to supervise. We informed Paige she was to call every two hours and check in until the mom got home.....and no going out after dark. That part wasn't hard since the friend lives next door to a very old graveyard and Paige ain't about partying with the dead. Fred fell asleep in the recliner with both cell phone and house phone on his chest, waiting for her calls. That's where he slept all night long as I couldn't wake him up to go to bed. Truly. I tried to wake him up, but couldn't get louder than the snoring, but had the phone rang? He would have been wide awake. I probably could have said something like....."Chief! The boat is leaking!!!" and he would have been on his feet immediately, but why be cruel?
We got some good retail therapy in Saturday. I introduced my friend to the joys of shopping at Michael's....a store full of crafts and other fun things. We were in the one dollar bin going through spools of ribbon. This is my obsession because I was tired of buying expensive bows for Makenna's hair. She declared this year she was too old for bows, but would allow a pretty ribbon in her ponytail. It is now my life's mission to have ribbon for anything she and Paige might wear. Paige is into "polka spots" and the bin was full of different colored polka spotted ribbon. As we were looking, Fred had Vitt on his shoulders and they were about 10 feet away looking at something. This is how we harness Vitt when he won't ride on the buggy. He gets the shoulder trip from Dad.
Apparently, Vitt decided to lean back. Fred was unprepared. I heard Fred holler and looked up in time to see my son hit the floor. On his head. The good part? He fell somewhat into a silk flower display and that might have cushioned his fall a little bit. I literally felt my heart skip a beat...then stop...then stutter back into motion. It was one of those slow motion moments where you see it happening but can't seem to move. I could see Fred trying to catch him by the foot and his foot slipping out of his hand. Within seconds I had that baby in my arms feeling his head, neck, shoulders. I could hear in my head...don't move someone who has fallen like this! Keep them immobilized! Call 911 !! Uh, okay. Lu has worked in a doctor's office and has had alot of medical dealings. I was one inch from crying but knew I had to soothe Vitt and Fred was feeling ten kinds of bad and I was on the wrong side of being pissed at him for DROPPING MY CHILD!
Lu kept telling me to chill out. It was an accident. My rational mind was working, but not as loudly and sanely as my irrational for a little while. I finally gave Vitt over to Fred to take outside to the van so Dad could have some time to check him out. I worried the rest of the evening that he might have a concussion even though he was none the worse for wear as time passed. I thought for a minute his speech was slurred...but jeez, half the time we can't understand him. He's just learning to talk well!! Thank you, Lu, for telling me to just STOP. IT. NOW. Concussions are accompanied with crying, throwing up, messed up pupils. Okay. So how can you check pupils when the kid's eyes are such a dark brown, they're almost black???
We moved on past it. And it was hard not to put that kid in the bed with us....just to keep an eye on him.
Other than this piece of excitement, the weekend was wonderful. The weather was great, the food we sought out and found awesome, the shopping deals unbeatable.
My grammar and punctuation during this post? Not so good. Give me a break....I'm still traumatized.
We got some good retail therapy in Saturday. I introduced my friend to the joys of shopping at Michael's....a store full of crafts and other fun things. We were in the one dollar bin going through spools of ribbon. This is my obsession because I was tired of buying expensive bows for Makenna's hair. She declared this year she was too old for bows, but would allow a pretty ribbon in her ponytail. It is now my life's mission to have ribbon for anything she and Paige might wear. Paige is into "polka spots" and the bin was full of different colored polka spotted ribbon. As we were looking, Fred had Vitt on his shoulders and they were about 10 feet away looking at something. This is how we harness Vitt when he won't ride on the buggy. He gets the shoulder trip from Dad.
Apparently, Vitt decided to lean back. Fred was unprepared. I heard Fred holler and looked up in time to see my son hit the floor. On his head. The good part? He fell somewhat into a silk flower display and that might have cushioned his fall a little bit. I literally felt my heart skip a beat...then stop...then stutter back into motion. It was one of those slow motion moments where you see it happening but can't seem to move. I could see Fred trying to catch him by the foot and his foot slipping out of his hand. Within seconds I had that baby in my arms feeling his head, neck, shoulders. I could hear in my head...don't move someone who has fallen like this! Keep them immobilized! Call 911 !! Uh, okay. Lu has worked in a doctor's office and has had alot of medical dealings. I was one inch from crying but knew I had to soothe Vitt and Fred was feeling ten kinds of bad and I was on the wrong side of being pissed at him for DROPPING MY CHILD!
Lu kept telling me to chill out. It was an accident. My rational mind was working, but not as loudly and sanely as my irrational for a little while. I finally gave Vitt over to Fred to take outside to the van so Dad could have some time to check him out. I worried the rest of the evening that he might have a concussion even though he was none the worse for wear as time passed. I thought for a minute his speech was slurred...but jeez, half the time we can't understand him. He's just learning to talk well!! Thank you, Lu, for telling me to just STOP. IT. NOW. Concussions are accompanied with crying, throwing up, messed up pupils. Okay. So how can you check pupils when the kid's eyes are such a dark brown, they're almost black???
We moved on past it. And it was hard not to put that kid in the bed with us....just to keep an eye on him.
Other than this piece of excitement, the weekend was wonderful. The weather was great, the food we sought out and found awesome, the shopping deals unbeatable.
My grammar and punctuation during this post? Not so good. Give me a break....I'm still traumatized.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Happenings around the Edge
Last night promised to be eventful. We were under tornado watches until 2 a.m. Fred made the girls sleep on our side just in case things got hairy. He's a good daddy. Paige might not believe it, but that man loves her like she's his own. Hopefully, one day.......
Makenna, on the other hand, is confident of his love. Heck, she's just plain confident. She informed Fred yesterday he was lucky to have her as a daughter. Something about having looks, brains, etc etc. I informed him it was time to start his own blog and share with the world.
Lu is coming to see me!!! I'm so excited. She and the twins are coming for the weekend and I can't wait for her to get here. She's about the only one who will make the drive down here to visit. Everyone else? Expects us to drive back to South Carolina all the time. ~sigh~ I finally have a large home and I live in a town with good stuff to see and do...with a HUGE city right down the interstate a short ways....and no one wants to sacrifice drive time to come see us. Lucky me. I just happen to have a father and brother who are home bodies. Those two hate to disrupt their routines with a passion! My Mom and Sis-in-Law? They'd come in a heartbeat, but hate to leave those men behind. Bro? I'm so shooting you the bird right now!
My decorating instincts are kicking in, people. I'm so proud of some of the stuff I've done around the house lately. I'm becoming more and more like my mom every day. She can cook AND decorate. Think of the money she could make on the cooking channels AND decorating shows. Dang.
Oh. Vitt is probably going to be moving to live with his Poppies. Fred's dad is a morning person. Vitt skips naps and goes to bed at 6:30 ...only to wake up around 4:30 a.m. informing his Dad he needs milk. It's killing us. Fred's dad is up for no good reason around 5 a.m. and goes to bed early. I think he and Vitt will get along just fine.
Hope all of you have a good weekend out in Internet Land.
Edited to Add:
I got my hair done. Yes! I am where I'm supposed to be now. I lovingly called my hair-do (that the cute little stylist who is 23 and smaller than my thumb did) ROCKSTAR HAIR. Paige liked it if that's any indication. I don't hardly care how she fixed it (because I would never be able to copy it on my own), I just feel blonde again. Thank you, Lord, for hair color. I'm scared to wash it, though, in case this hard water decides to make it some funky color that will scare small children and make dogs run away in fear.
Makenna, on the other hand, is confident of his love. Heck, she's just plain confident. She informed Fred yesterday he was lucky to have her as a daughter. Something about having looks, brains, etc etc. I informed him it was time to start his own blog and share with the world.
Lu is coming to see me!!! I'm so excited. She and the twins are coming for the weekend and I can't wait for her to get here. She's about the only one who will make the drive down here to visit. Everyone else? Expects us to drive back to South Carolina all the time. ~sigh~ I finally have a large home and I live in a town with good stuff to see and do...with a HUGE city right down the interstate a short ways....and no one wants to sacrifice drive time to come see us. Lucky me. I just happen to have a father and brother who are home bodies. Those two hate to disrupt their routines with a passion! My Mom and Sis-in-Law? They'd come in a heartbeat, but hate to leave those men behind. Bro? I'm so shooting you the bird right now!
My decorating instincts are kicking in, people. I'm so proud of some of the stuff I've done around the house lately. I'm becoming more and more like my mom every day. She can cook AND decorate. Think of the money she could make on the cooking channels AND decorating shows. Dang.
Oh. Vitt is probably going to be moving to live with his Poppies. Fred's dad is a morning person. Vitt skips naps and goes to bed at 6:30 ...only to wake up around 4:30 a.m. informing his Dad he needs milk. It's killing us. Fred's dad is up for no good reason around 5 a.m. and goes to bed early. I think he and Vitt will get along just fine.
Hope all of you have a good weekend out in Internet Land.
Edited to Add:
I got my hair done. Yes! I am where I'm supposed to be now. I lovingly called my hair-do (that the cute little stylist who is 23 and smaller than my thumb did) ROCKSTAR HAIR. Paige liked it if that's any indication. I don't hardly care how she fixed it (because I would never be able to copy it on my own), I just feel blonde again. Thank you, Lord, for hair color. I'm scared to wash it, though, in case this hard water decides to make it some funky color that will scare small children and make dogs run away in fear.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
A few thoughts....
Can you believe February is almost over? That's two months of the year already gone and nine months until I have to figure out where I'm going to put the Christmas tree this year. Because we rearranged both living rooms this past weekend.
My soul wasn't resting well the way it was. Seriously. I would sit and watch television and constantly look around the room thinking it just wasn't right. The only show I could watch with full concentration was Grey's Anatomy...which I lovingly refer to as O'Malley's Anatomy because Meredith so needed to stay and hang out with Denny. And please don't let Patrick Dempsey cry again. He's just not attractive when he does. Yuck. So he's sensitive. Whatever.
My wonderful husband catered to my crazy idea to change things around. He moved heavy furniture and mopped that white tile floor. I drafted my neighbor upstairs to come help me figure out where everything was going. She may be young, but the gal has really good taste. We are now happily able to focus on television because the room flows, people! It flows around you and just plain rocks.
Guess what doesn't work in a garbage disposal? A nickel. Mr. Plumber came this morning and, boy, was he unhappy about that nickel stuck in there. Instead of yanking it out and charging us for a new one, he fussed and cussed and finally got it out. You should see it. It's literally bent in half. Imagine what the disposal could do to a finger. ~shudder~ We will be having a family meeting tonight to discuss what NOT to keep around the sink area. Next time we might not be so lucky.
I'm getting my hair done today. Because it's red. And I'm not a redhead. No offense to you red's out there. I've just always been blonde and it's not working. My stylist decided to do something different and put a golden brown on my roots...just for kicks. And I keep an open mind. I don't want to be one of those gals stuck with a hair-do from the 80's*. It was fine at the salon. Then I came home and washed it the next day. It came out red. Yucky red. Apparently the water on this base is toxic to a degree. You can't drink it. You can't cook with it. And now I guess you can't get a brown hair color without it turning to a disgusting shade of red. I've not hated my hair in a very long time, but now I do. I can't keep this hate bottled up for so long before I explode, so I'll just head on to the salon and get this issue nipped in the bud.
Ya'll have a good day out there in Internet Land. We're looking at 80 degrees with no humidity and bright bright sunshine. Go ahead...hate me.
*The 80's rocked with hairstyles. I may be 5'6" now, but I was a sweet 5'10" back then after I fixed my hair. Long live Aqua Net!!!!!
My soul wasn't resting well the way it was. Seriously. I would sit and watch television and constantly look around the room thinking it just wasn't right. The only show I could watch with full concentration was Grey's Anatomy...which I lovingly refer to as O'Malley's Anatomy because Meredith so needed to stay and hang out with Denny. And please don't let Patrick Dempsey cry again. He's just not attractive when he does. Yuck. So he's sensitive. Whatever.
My wonderful husband catered to my crazy idea to change things around. He moved heavy furniture and mopped that white tile floor. I drafted my neighbor upstairs to come help me figure out where everything was going. She may be young, but the gal has really good taste. We are now happily able to focus on television because the room flows, people! It flows around you and just plain rocks.
Guess what doesn't work in a garbage disposal? A nickel. Mr. Plumber came this morning and, boy, was he unhappy about that nickel stuck in there. Instead of yanking it out and charging us for a new one, he fussed and cussed and finally got it out. You should see it. It's literally bent in half. Imagine what the disposal could do to a finger. ~shudder~ We will be having a family meeting tonight to discuss what NOT to keep around the sink area. Next time we might not be so lucky.
I'm getting my hair done today. Because it's red. And I'm not a redhead. No offense to you red's out there. I've just always been blonde and it's not working. My stylist decided to do something different and put a golden brown on my roots...just for kicks. And I keep an open mind. I don't want to be one of those gals stuck with a hair-do from the 80's*. It was fine at the salon. Then I came home and washed it the next day. It came out red. Yucky red. Apparently the water on this base is toxic to a degree. You can't drink it. You can't cook with it. And now I guess you can't get a brown hair color without it turning to a disgusting shade of red. I've not hated my hair in a very long time, but now I do. I can't keep this hate bottled up for so long before I explode, so I'll just head on to the salon and get this issue nipped in the bud.
Ya'll have a good day out there in Internet Land. We're looking at 80 degrees with no humidity and bright bright sunshine. Go ahead...hate me.
*The 80's rocked with hairstyles. I may be 5'6" now, but I was a sweet 5'10" back then after I fixed my hair. Long live Aqua Net!!!!!
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
The Girl is Good
Yep, I was right.
Makenna has strep throat and the Commander who saw her yesterday gave me a referral for a civilian ENT (ear, nose and throat specialist). I told her in a matter-of-fact voice what had been going on with Makenna and that I felt she had strep again because of the symptoms. She said she would do the rapid strep test and go ahead and get a referral ready. Rock on, Commander! Now I just have to wait a couple of days for the information to get into the lovely military system. Then I will call and get the name of her doctor. If my research on this doctor isn't satisfactory, then I will call Tricare back and proceed to show my butt to get the results I want for my baby.
Vitt, on the other hand, I think there is a lack of communication going on there. They did a strep test on him and it came back negative. I believe he has a sinus infection, but the Commander was so focused on Makenna that she didn't prescribe anything but cough and congestion medicine for him. I'll wait another day or two on him. If he doesn't clear up or get better, we'll go pay her another visit. So, it appears I wasn't right...and I wasn't wrong. The jury is still out on him.
Want to get upset? Want to roll your eyes in disgust? I was asked if I had Motrin and Tylenol for the kids. I DO have some here at home, but I was smart and said that I was running low. Makenna weighs enough to take Motrin in pill form, but the children's liquid is better on her throat at the moment. Therefore, with just 3-4 doses, she can clean out an entire bottle very quickly.
I took the kids out to the vehicle because Vitt was literally a froot loop in the pharmacy waiting area. Fred came out with a HUGE brown bag. We were given FOUR bottles of Children's Motrin......name brand, baby! No generic stuff there. We were given FOUR bottles of generic Children's Tylenol. Both kids got their own bottles of cough and congestion medicines. Did we see the right person or what?????
That was around $40.00 worth of over the counter medicine. Sweet.
A word about my youngest froot loop. That kid looks like he could be the poster child for A.D.D. sometimes. He was insane acting while waiting to see the doctor and in the exam room. When it was his turn to be examined, he sat there like a grown man. Seriously. He was absolutely perfect. He let her do just what she needed to without argument. She even did the strep test....with the Q-tip in the back of the throat. Didn't even flinch. She took the test out to be developed and Vitt told his Dad he had to "go pee pee". Fred and I both start running for a bathroom when he says this. Especially in public. The Commander came back in to check his lungs and he told her he had to "go pee pee". She immediately stepped to the side and told him to go and come right back so she could check his lungs. A few minutes later he came back, got back on the table, informed her he had pee-pee'd AND washed his hands. God, I just eat him up when he acts like that.
He made us look like Parents of the Year. Anyone with kids know that moments like this are few and far between. When they happen, grab them and hold on for dear life. Bask in the moment that is fleeting and will go away too quick for your liking.
So, I was validated and got lots of medications that should last us a while. Makenna will be getting checked out by a specialist and Vitt rocked in front of the doctor.
Makenna has strep throat and the Commander who saw her yesterday gave me a referral for a civilian ENT (ear, nose and throat specialist). I told her in a matter-of-fact voice what had been going on with Makenna and that I felt she had strep again because of the symptoms. She said she would do the rapid strep test and go ahead and get a referral ready. Rock on, Commander! Now I just have to wait a couple of days for the information to get into the lovely military system. Then I will call and get the name of her doctor. If my research on this doctor isn't satisfactory, then I will call Tricare back and proceed to show my butt to get the results I want for my baby.
Vitt, on the other hand, I think there is a lack of communication going on there. They did a strep test on him and it came back negative. I believe he has a sinus infection, but the Commander was so focused on Makenna that she didn't prescribe anything but cough and congestion medicine for him. I'll wait another day or two on him. If he doesn't clear up or get better, we'll go pay her another visit. So, it appears I wasn't right...and I wasn't wrong. The jury is still out on him.
Want to get upset? Want to roll your eyes in disgust? I was asked if I had Motrin and Tylenol for the kids. I DO have some here at home, but I was smart and said that I was running low. Makenna weighs enough to take Motrin in pill form, but the children's liquid is better on her throat at the moment. Therefore, with just 3-4 doses, she can clean out an entire bottle very quickly.
I took the kids out to the vehicle because Vitt was literally a froot loop in the pharmacy waiting area. Fred came out with a HUGE brown bag. We were given FOUR bottles of Children's Motrin......name brand, baby! No generic stuff there. We were given FOUR bottles of generic Children's Tylenol. Both kids got their own bottles of cough and congestion medicines. Did we see the right person or what?????
That was around $40.00 worth of over the counter medicine. Sweet.
A word about my youngest froot loop. That kid looks like he could be the poster child for A.D.D. sometimes. He was insane acting while waiting to see the doctor and in the exam room. When it was his turn to be examined, he sat there like a grown man. Seriously. He was absolutely perfect. He let her do just what she needed to without argument. She even did the strep test....with the Q-tip in the back of the throat. Didn't even flinch. She took the test out to be developed and Vitt told his Dad he had to "go pee pee". Fred and I both start running for a bathroom when he says this. Especially in public. The Commander came back in to check his lungs and he told her he had to "go pee pee". She immediately stepped to the side and told him to go and come right back so she could check his lungs. A few minutes later he came back, got back on the table, informed her he had pee-pee'd AND washed his hands. God, I just eat him up when he acts like that.
He made us look like Parents of the Year. Anyone with kids know that moments like this are few and far between. When they happen, grab them and hold on for dear life. Bask in the moment that is fleeting and will go away too quick for your liking.
So, I was validated and got lots of medications that should last us a while. Makenna will be getting checked out by a specialist and Vitt rocked in front of the doctor.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Just Call Me Doctor...
The doctor is in.
Schooling is important, but I feel life experience has potential to be a great teacher also.
Vitt and Mak are sick. This is my diagnosis of their maladies.
Vitt had a stomach virus last week that lasted until Saturday. Friday he developed a cough that come clean from his toes. We've given him children's NyQuil at night so he can rest but have discovered that we will NOT give him triaminic EVAH again. We almost had to peel him off of the ceiling after a dose of that stuff yesterday. My diagnosis for him is that he's developing a respiratory infection due to a compromised immune system.
Makenna has a sore throat. Again. My diagnosis is that she once again has strep throat. This will be her fourth episode since Thanksgiving. Methinks it's time for us to consider getting her tonsils removed. When Paige was 6, she had strep and tonsillitis for six months straight. After being on approximately 7 antibiotics, I put my foot down and she ended up getting her tonsils and adenoids out plus tubes in her ears. How healthy she was after that.
We're visiting the doctor this afternoon and I will let you know if I qualify for an M.D. upon our return.
I will either be totally validated or completely ignorant. We shall see.
Schooling is important, but I feel life experience has potential to be a great teacher also.
Vitt and Mak are sick. This is my diagnosis of their maladies.
Vitt had a stomach virus last week that lasted until Saturday. Friday he developed a cough that come clean from his toes. We've given him children's NyQuil at night so he can rest but have discovered that we will NOT give him triaminic EVAH again. We almost had to peel him off of the ceiling after a dose of that stuff yesterday. My diagnosis for him is that he's developing a respiratory infection due to a compromised immune system.
Makenna has a sore throat. Again. My diagnosis is that she once again has strep throat. This will be her fourth episode since Thanksgiving. Methinks it's time for us to consider getting her tonsils removed. When Paige was 6, she had strep and tonsillitis for six months straight. After being on approximately 7 antibiotics, I put my foot down and she ended up getting her tonsils and adenoids out plus tubes in her ears. How healthy she was after that.
We're visiting the doctor this afternoon and I will let you know if I qualify for an M.D. upon our return.
I will either be totally validated or completely ignorant. We shall see.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Lesson Learned
Children learn so fast. It amazes me how fast Vitt picks up language. I saw it with the girls when they were little, but it never gets old.
Sometimes there are life lessons that have be taught the hard way.
Vitt learned one this morning.
He learned:
Don't pick your nose while running. You might trip and fall.
Made me cringe when I saw it happen.
Sometimes there are life lessons that have be taught the hard way.
Vitt learned one this morning.
He learned:
Don't pick your nose while running. You might trip and fall.
Made me cringe when I saw it happen.
Email to my Husband
It's Thursday. What happens on Thursday morning around this time?
That's right. The trash truck comes around.
Guess what?
You are correct. Our trash wasn't out there.
I was a running fool.
That simply was not attractive.
Let's try not to let that happen again, shall we?
Love,
Hope
This is the email I sent my husband a few minutes ago.
I'm glad we have good communication skills.
That's right. The trash truck comes around.
Guess what?
You are correct. Our trash wasn't out there.
I was a running fool.
That simply was not attractive.
Let's try not to let that happen again, shall we?
Love,
Hope
This is the email I sent my husband a few minutes ago.
I'm glad we have good communication skills.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Unexpected Coolness
The title has to do with our weekend back home to South Carolina and today's events.
It was cold up there, people!! Not near as cold as some are in this nation of ours...but pretty dang chilly. Just sitting on the front porch with my dad talking was almost unbearable. But, we did it. I treasure those moments with my dad. He hardly ever slows down, but when he does, he's a joy to sit and talk with. Although I'm not too fond of when he reminds of things I did as a teenager. I could live without those reminders!
We made our way home Sunday afternoon and by Monday night, it was apparent a stomach bug had attacked our house! It claimed Paige Monday night and Vitt Tuesday morning. I literally held that baby all day yesterday. He couldn't hold anything down and fever just went through his little body. He moaned and groaned and dozed while I held him in the recliner. Finally, last night we were able to get some Motrin* in him. When the fever broke.....he hit the ground running. He finally ate and drank with no bad repercussions.
Until this morning.
Then came the diarrhea. Whew. Last week Vitt decided he would wear "unnerwear".... the cutest little boxer briefs you ever did see. We've had issues with peeing in them...but he's pooped in the potty like a champ.
Until this morning.
Everyone knows diarrhea really gives no warning. You fart and it's there. And this boy is the Fart King. He loves to poot and exclaim to the world "I POOTED!!!". That's when we remind him to say "Excuse Me". After shouting it loud and proud, he follows with a "ME!!!"
All morning long I've been behind him disinfecting and wiping. I knew he couldn't help it and I would try to get him to the potty.
Finally, about an hour ago, he went to go potty. And he pooted. And here came the diarrhea. He thought it was the coolest thing EVAH! It literally made him laugh with glee to see this foul stuff shoot out of his butt. He would almost fall head first in the toilet trying to watch himself poop. He must've flushed the toilet 5 times thinking he was already done. It was so cool and he strained so hard, I think he almost pushed his eyeballs out! We totally did a dozen high fives over this accomplishment.
Now he's been running to the potty every five minutes trying to recapture the unexpected cool new trick. I hate to tell him it shouldn't last much longer. Let the boy have his party.
That's what's been happening around the Edge. I've had people call me and ask if everything was okay because I hadn't blogged in a few days. I wish they'd comment like they call!!! *hint* *hint*
*Motrin is the bestest drug ever made for kids. I think of Tylenol as a joke because it doesn't affect my kids at all.
It was cold up there, people!! Not near as cold as some are in this nation of ours...but pretty dang chilly. Just sitting on the front porch with my dad talking was almost unbearable. But, we did it. I treasure those moments with my dad. He hardly ever slows down, but when he does, he's a joy to sit and talk with. Although I'm not too fond of when he reminds of things I did as a teenager. I could live without those reminders!
We made our way home Sunday afternoon and by Monday night, it was apparent a stomach bug had attacked our house! It claimed Paige Monday night and Vitt Tuesday morning. I literally held that baby all day yesterday. He couldn't hold anything down and fever just went through his little body. He moaned and groaned and dozed while I held him in the recliner. Finally, last night we were able to get some Motrin* in him. When the fever broke.....he hit the ground running. He finally ate and drank with no bad repercussions.
Until this morning.
Then came the diarrhea. Whew. Last week Vitt decided he would wear "unnerwear".... the cutest little boxer briefs you ever did see. We've had issues with peeing in them...but he's pooped in the potty like a champ.
Until this morning.
Everyone knows diarrhea really gives no warning. You fart and it's there. And this boy is the Fart King. He loves to poot and exclaim to the world "I POOTED!!!". That's when we remind him to say "Excuse Me". After shouting it loud and proud, he follows with a "ME!!!"
All morning long I've been behind him disinfecting and wiping. I knew he couldn't help it and I would try to get him to the potty.
Finally, about an hour ago, he went to go potty. And he pooted. And here came the diarrhea. He thought it was the coolest thing EVAH! It literally made him laugh with glee to see this foul stuff shoot out of his butt. He would almost fall head first in the toilet trying to watch himself poop. He must've flushed the toilet 5 times thinking he was already done. It was so cool and he strained so hard, I think he almost pushed his eyeballs out! We totally did a dozen high fives over this accomplishment.
Now he's been running to the potty every five minutes trying to recapture the unexpected cool new trick. I hate to tell him it shouldn't last much longer. Let the boy have his party.
That's what's been happening around the Edge. I've had people call me and ask if everything was okay because I hadn't blogged in a few days. I wish they'd comment like they call!!! *hint* *hint*
*Motrin is the bestest drug ever made for kids. I think of Tylenol as a joke because it doesn't affect my kids at all.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Valentine O' Valentine
Happy Valentine's Day to all of you in Internet Land. I hope your day is red and rosy and full of chocolate.
Ask me what I'm getting? Go on. Ask me.
I'm getting an unusual and unique present this special day.
I'm getting four things contained on one thing.
You can't eat it.
It has potential to be used over and over and over again.
I will carry it with me always.
Guessed it yet?
I'm guessing you haven't.
I'm getting keys.
Seriously.
Apparently Vitt has lost my keys for me. I've always been very careful to keep up with my keys as I have been locked out of the house before a couple of times. Paige was younger and had ten kinds of anxiety attacks over it, so I've gotten into the habit of having them in my hand when I walk out.
Yesterday, Vitt and I went to go pick up the kids from school and I couldn't find them. Fred was in a meeting and unreachable. So, I called the neighbor and explained my dilemma (we share carpooling duty). She laughed...being a mother of six....and went to get the kids.
We have torn this house apart. We've asked Vitt to go get Mommy's keys. He puts up both hands and says..."I don't know."
I have this fear they are floating in the septic tank abyss of this navy base.
Two keyless remotes. Gone.
Instead of a glass of wine or nerve pill? I ate a Hershey bar instead.
Happy Valentine's Day.
Ask me what I'm getting? Go on. Ask me.
I'm getting an unusual and unique present this special day.
I'm getting four things contained on one thing.
You can't eat it.
It has potential to be used over and over and over again.
I will carry it with me always.
Guessed it yet?
I'm guessing you haven't.
I'm getting keys.
Seriously.
Apparently Vitt has lost my keys for me. I've always been very careful to keep up with my keys as I have been locked out of the house before a couple of times. Paige was younger and had ten kinds of anxiety attacks over it, so I've gotten into the habit of having them in my hand when I walk out.
Yesterday, Vitt and I went to go pick up the kids from school and I couldn't find them. Fred was in a meeting and unreachable. So, I called the neighbor and explained my dilemma (we share carpooling duty). She laughed...being a mother of six....and went to get the kids.
We have torn this house apart. We've asked Vitt to go get Mommy's keys. He puts up both hands and says..."I don't know."
I have this fear they are floating in the septic tank abyss of this navy base.
Two keyless remotes. Gone.
Instead of a glass of wine or nerve pill? I ate a Hershey bar instead.
Happy Valentine's Day.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Mountains
And there she stood.
Surrounded on all sides by mountains. No path of escape to be found.
Towels to the North.
White clothes to the South.
Pastels to the West.
Jeans to the East.
Good dress clothes (pastels) to the SouthWest.
Good dress clothes (darks) to the NorthEast.
Another load of non-bleachable towels to the SouthEast.
Skivvies to the NorthWest.
She lifted her hands to the heavens to ask "Where did this all come from?" "How can 5 people use so much in such a short time?"
She hums the age old song....Workin' in a Coal Mine...goin' on down down...Workin' in a Coal Mine...Oops, about to slip down....Lawd, how long can this go on?
In true Scarlett O'Hara fashion she goes to her knees and proclaims out loud........
"Lord, when these children are grown and gone. When they are educated and making decent money. When they live in nice houses. Lord, remind these children of the promise made to their Mama. They will pay for Mama to have a housekeeper so she may live the golden years of her life loving granchildren and participating in retail therapy at least three days a week til she draws her last breath."
Amen.
Surrounded on all sides by mountains. No path of escape to be found.
Towels to the North.
White clothes to the South.
Pastels to the West.
Jeans to the East.
Good dress clothes (pastels) to the SouthWest.
Good dress clothes (darks) to the NorthEast.
Another load of non-bleachable towels to the SouthEast.
Skivvies to the NorthWest.
She lifted her hands to the heavens to ask "Where did this all come from?" "How can 5 people use so much in such a short time?"
She hums the age old song....Workin' in a Coal Mine...goin' on down down...Workin' in a Coal Mine...Oops, about to slip down....Lawd, how long can this go on?
In true Scarlett O'Hara fashion she goes to her knees and proclaims out loud........
"Lord, when these children are grown and gone. When they are educated and making decent money. When they live in nice houses. Lord, remind these children of the promise made to their Mama. They will pay for Mama to have a housekeeper so she may live the golden years of her life loving granchildren and participating in retail therapy at least three days a week til she draws her last breath."
Amen.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Slumber Party 2007
We survived. Six giggly, screaming girls invaded our home at 6:30 p.m. sharp Friday evening to celebrate Makenna's birthday.
I was gone to pick up Paige from a thang she was doing and the house was full upon my return.
Fred said they all came at one time! The way he described it to me....the parents pulled up in front, chunked the kid out the vehicle and took off with tires a squealin'.
We ordered 3 LARGE pizzas. There wasn't a piece left.
We went through a gallon of fruit punch kool-aid and probably 2 gallons of water. We got a water cooler. With cups on the side. It's cool and calls for lots of drinking and chatting "around the water cooler."
This morning they went through an entire loaf of bread when I made toast. Plus 2 quarts of Tang.
I was floored over how much these gals could eat.
Oh, and I was unapologetically* evil. I had some cheap-o door hangers up in the cabinet. I told whoever cleaned up the living room best this morning would get a prize. There was some cleaning fools working. I gladly passed out prizes.
Just to soothe my nerves, I had Fred take me for some retail therapy.
We're good to go until April. That's when Paige wants to have HER slumber party.
Dear Joseph......I'm saving money for groceries now. I bet those girls could put salt on a shingle and go to town!
* uh...spell check said this isn't a word.....but it's workin' for me so it stays.
I was gone to pick up Paige from a thang she was doing and the house was full upon my return.
Fred said they all came at one time! The way he described it to me....the parents pulled up in front, chunked the kid out the vehicle and took off with tires a squealin'.
We ordered 3 LARGE pizzas. There wasn't a piece left.
We went through a gallon of fruit punch kool-aid and probably 2 gallons of water. We got a water cooler. With cups on the side. It's cool and calls for lots of drinking and chatting "around the water cooler."
This morning they went through an entire loaf of bread when I made toast. Plus 2 quarts of Tang.
I was floored over how much these gals could eat.
Oh, and I was unapologetically* evil. I had some cheap-o door hangers up in the cabinet. I told whoever cleaned up the living room best this morning would get a prize. There was some cleaning fools working. I gladly passed out prizes.
Just to soothe my nerves, I had Fred take me for some retail therapy.
We're good to go until April. That's when Paige wants to have HER slumber party.
Dear Joseph......I'm saving money for groceries now. I bet those girls could put salt on a shingle and go to town!
* uh...spell check said this isn't a word.....but it's workin' for me so it stays.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Letter of Importance
Dear Discovery Channel,
We have a teensy problem here. You see, my husband is working in an office at the moment instead of being on a boat. This is fine except for the fact he has a television located in his office. Why, you ask? I have no idea, but apparently everyone has a television located in their office. Until recently, he had an office mate who loved to watch a certain channel that showed continuous J*A*G re-runs. Now that the office mate is gone....he has full control and has decided you, Discovery Channel, will be the channel of the day after he's seen Robin and Company run through at least three times (in case he's missed something concerning sports).
I didn't think anything of it at first. Call me oblivious.
But, at lunch yesterday, I got a full entire monologue on how baby chickens are hatched, sorted, etc etc. He insists that it is very interesting, yet he feels sorry for how the chicks are handled so soon after birth. I can live with it.
Tonight....out of left field.....he all of a sudden says..."Do you know why mirrors are so expensive?" I sighed. Then I looked at him and said..."You've been watching Discovery Channel again, haven't you?" I was right.
I'm all about educating one's self. I really am. But, you've got to understand that you've got the wrong person watching you now. He stores all this lovely information so that he can enthrall his family later with bunches and bunches and bunches of facts. I would even venture to say that his explanations are longer than the shows he watches.
All I'm saying is that if you are kind, you will go off the air from 9 a.m. until 4 p.m.
We, the family, would appreciate it. Alot.
Yours truly,
Miss Hope
We have a teensy problem here. You see, my husband is working in an office at the moment instead of being on a boat. This is fine except for the fact he has a television located in his office. Why, you ask? I have no idea, but apparently everyone has a television located in their office. Until recently, he had an office mate who loved to watch a certain channel that showed continuous J*A*G re-runs. Now that the office mate is gone....he has full control and has decided you, Discovery Channel, will be the channel of the day after he's seen Robin and Company run through at least three times (in case he's missed something concerning sports).
I didn't think anything of it at first. Call me oblivious.
But, at lunch yesterday, I got a full entire monologue on how baby chickens are hatched, sorted, etc etc. He insists that it is very interesting, yet he feels sorry for how the chicks are handled so soon after birth. I can live with it.
Tonight....out of left field.....he all of a sudden says..."Do you know why mirrors are so expensive?" I sighed. Then I looked at him and said..."You've been watching Discovery Channel again, haven't you?" I was right.
I'm all about educating one's self. I really am. But, you've got to understand that you've got the wrong person watching you now. He stores all this lovely information so that he can enthrall his family later with bunches and bunches and bunches of facts. I would even venture to say that his explanations are longer than the shows he watches.
All I'm saying is that if you are kind, you will go off the air from 9 a.m. until 4 p.m.
We, the family, would appreciate it. Alot.
Yours truly,
Miss Hope
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MAKENNA
I would be considered a bad mother if I didn't do a little post about my Baby Girl.
I've heard alot about how the middle child is always left out. Not really on purpose...it just happens in the shuffle of life. And I can understand it happening in this life I'm living.
Paige is high maintenance. Always has been. But, that's just her personality and makes her who she is. I love her for it because she's not afraid to ask for attention and show her entire butt if she doesn't get it. Vitt is UBER high maintenance. I don't know if it's because he's a boy or he's his daddy's son. My mother in law tells me he's alot like Fred was as a little boy. Yeah, Fred was known by his first name back in Tucson in the local E.R. before he was two. And, yes, that fact worries me. Alot.
Makenna, on the other hand, is very laid back and so easy (thus far) to raise. She never asks for anything really but when she and I go somewhere....just the two of us...she always makes the comment about how cool it is for 'just the two of us' to do something. So, I make an extra special effort to do 'two of us' stuff. So does Fred. Heck, it thrills her soul to go to the car wash with Fred. She thinks its cool to be in the car and watch the different colors of soap. Like I said....laid back.
This time, 8 years ago, I was no where near labor and one day away from my due date. I'd had the perfect pregnancy with no problems and was feeling great. My grandaddy had come by for my dad to wash his truck since he wasn't able to. As we were sitting outside, I told Grandaddy I hadn't gotten anything for his birthday (February 6), but would a baby do if I could swing it? He told me that would be just fine. I was totally joking when I said that.
My mother was very emotionally vested in this pregnancy. We were living next door by that time and she got to see me from beginning to end. She had gone to my doctor's visit the day before and the doctor was stressing for me to do kick counts. Make sure the baby was moving. After lunch, she asked me every five minutes if this baby was moving. Makenna didn't move fast enough for Nana. She decided we needed to go to the hospital. So, we did. Makenna's dad, me, Paige, and my parents. When we got there, I asked the doctor to just get done checking me so I could go to Walmart. He decided to keep me!!! Figured since I was 4 cm dilated, it wouldn't be long. Dangit. I really wanted to go to Walmart.
My friend came and got Paige (it was all pre-arranged). Off she went to eat supper with Aunt Chelle and soon to be Uncle Mark. She had a wonderful time being the center of attention.
In a nutshell, this is how it went down. Doc came in around 7:30-8:00 p.m. to break my water. I told him I needed to have this baby by midnight because it was my grandaddy's birthday. He laughed and said that this was considered my first delivery since Paige was an emergency c-section and to expect at least 12 hours of labor.
He didn't know me too well, did he?
Suffice it to say, I had her at 11:03 p.m. There was 57 minutes to spare. She might have been quick then....but that's been the only time. That girl is slow as molasses in winter-time now. Laid back.
My grandaddy came to see me in the hospital. He wasn't able to walk that far, so he suffered what he thought was the indignity of a wheelchair. He had to see his birthday present.
Happy Birthday, Mu Mu. You are such a special light in my heart. I worried for months about how was I going to love another child as much as I loved your sister. I just didn't think it was possible. My Mama was right. My heart grew even bigger when you were born. It had to. How else was it going to hold all that love? You've blessed all our lives so much.
p.s. Do you think you can FINALLY start picking up your shoes and putting them in your room?
I've heard alot about how the middle child is always left out. Not really on purpose...it just happens in the shuffle of life. And I can understand it happening in this life I'm living.
Paige is high maintenance. Always has been. But, that's just her personality and makes her who she is. I love her for it because she's not afraid to ask for attention and show her entire butt if she doesn't get it. Vitt is UBER high maintenance. I don't know if it's because he's a boy or he's his daddy's son. My mother in law tells me he's alot like Fred was as a little boy. Yeah, Fred was known by his first name back in Tucson in the local E.R. before he was two. And, yes, that fact worries me. Alot.
Makenna, on the other hand, is very laid back and so easy (thus far) to raise. She never asks for anything really but when she and I go somewhere....just the two of us...she always makes the comment about how cool it is for 'just the two of us' to do something. So, I make an extra special effort to do 'two of us' stuff. So does Fred. Heck, it thrills her soul to go to the car wash with Fred. She thinks its cool to be in the car and watch the different colors of soap. Like I said....laid back.
This time, 8 years ago, I was no where near labor and one day away from my due date. I'd had the perfect pregnancy with no problems and was feeling great. My grandaddy had come by for my dad to wash his truck since he wasn't able to. As we were sitting outside, I told Grandaddy I hadn't gotten anything for his birthday (February 6), but would a baby do if I could swing it? He told me that would be just fine. I was totally joking when I said that.
My mother was very emotionally vested in this pregnancy. We were living next door by that time and she got to see me from beginning to end. She had gone to my doctor's visit the day before and the doctor was stressing for me to do kick counts. Make sure the baby was moving. After lunch, she asked me every five minutes if this baby was moving. Makenna didn't move fast enough for Nana. She decided we needed to go to the hospital. So, we did. Makenna's dad, me, Paige, and my parents. When we got there, I asked the doctor to just get done checking me so I could go to Walmart. He decided to keep me!!! Figured since I was 4 cm dilated, it wouldn't be long. Dangit. I really wanted to go to Walmart.
My friend came and got Paige (it was all pre-arranged). Off she went to eat supper with Aunt Chelle and soon to be Uncle Mark. She had a wonderful time being the center of attention.
In a nutshell, this is how it went down. Doc came in around 7:30-8:00 p.m. to break my water. I told him I needed to have this baby by midnight because it was my grandaddy's birthday. He laughed and said that this was considered my first delivery since Paige was an emergency c-section and to expect at least 12 hours of labor.
He didn't know me too well, did he?
Suffice it to say, I had her at 11:03 p.m. There was 57 minutes to spare. She might have been quick then....but that's been the only time. That girl is slow as molasses in winter-time now. Laid back.
My grandaddy came to see me in the hospital. He wasn't able to walk that far, so he suffered what he thought was the indignity of a wheelchair. He had to see his birthday present.
Happy Birthday, Mu Mu. You are such a special light in my heart. I worried for months about how was I going to love another child as much as I loved your sister. I just didn't think it was possible. My Mama was right. My heart grew even bigger when you were born. It had to. How else was it going to hold all that love? You've blessed all our lives so much.
p.s. Do you think you can FINALLY start picking up your shoes and putting them in your room?
Monday, February 05, 2007
No Offense, of course
I shared this with my family at the dinner table yesterday in South Carolina, so this is old news for them.
I had an interesting conversation with Makenna yesterday morning while getting ready for church. It went something like this:
Makenna: Mama, did you know that if you take five dimes to the lunch room ladies, they'll give you two quarters.
Me: (fixing her hair) That would sound about right. They're just giving you an equal amount.
Makenna: Yes ma'am. You can even put the money in your lunch account. But, some people take money out of their account.
Me: (stopping the hair process) Makenna, you better not take money out of your account. That's there for you to eat lunch and if you take it out, you'll be hungry.
Makenna: Oh, no ma'am. I don't do it. Only the rednecks do it.
Me: Why on earth would they take money out of their account?????
Makenna: Because they're from Delaware.
I started laughing and just about couldn't stop. I asked her why would rednecks be from Delaware and she just shrugged and said that's what they say when you ask them. I have no clue as to why she would say that, but she was so earnest and sincere about it and I was laughing too hard to pursue it. Besides, we were running late and the moment was lost after that.
So, my question to you folks is this:
Why are all the rednecks from Delaware?
I had an interesting conversation with Makenna yesterday morning while getting ready for church. It went something like this:
Makenna: Mama, did you know that if you take five dimes to the lunch room ladies, they'll give you two quarters.
Me: (fixing her hair) That would sound about right. They're just giving you an equal amount.
Makenna: Yes ma'am. You can even put the money in your lunch account. But, some people take money out of their account.
Me: (stopping the hair process) Makenna, you better not take money out of your account. That's there for you to eat lunch and if you take it out, you'll be hungry.
Makenna: Oh, no ma'am. I don't do it. Only the rednecks do it.
Me: Why on earth would they take money out of their account?????
Makenna: Because they're from Delaware.
I started laughing and just about couldn't stop. I asked her why would rednecks be from Delaware and she just shrugged and said that's what they say when you ask them. I have no clue as to why she would say that, but she was so earnest and sincere about it and I was laughing too hard to pursue it. Besides, we were running late and the moment was lost after that.
So, my question to you folks is this:
Why are all the rednecks from Delaware?
Friday, February 02, 2007
Prelude to a Weekend
So, we're going home this weekend. And we're all excited since we haven't seen the family since Christmas. Makenna is especially since her birthday is this coming Tuesday and Nana is cooking a special Sunday dinner for her along with a birthday cake that Aunt Destiny is ordering.
That leaves me to get everyone prepared to go. It means I have to do a butt load of laundry because Paige will ALWAYS wait til the last minute to bring her dirty clothes and she HAS to have certain articles to take with her. Spoiled rotten, she is.
It also means I have to clean the kitchen and whatnot because I do not like driving four hours home on Sunday to a nasty kitchen and undone laundry. Drives me nuts.
So, I'm doing laundry and when I reach into the washer to grab a handful of towels.....my fingernail on Pointer finger is bent totally backwards and pops. Snap. I jerk my hand up to see the damage. And being a human being, I snatch the nail off because it's gone and of no use to me anymore in this lifetime. Holy Joseph and the goat. Meat came with it. Suffice it to say I saw many a star floating in my vision.
I can deal with broken nails. I pamper my hands and keep them as lovely as I can. I refuse to get manicures and acrylics simply because I am a mother and wash my hands too many times a day. Broken nails are a part of life and that's that.
But, ye gods, I then had to wash dishes with that hand. Got done and doctored it up nice and neat with a flex band-aid.
Now I'm hitting 4 keys at once and trying to figure out how to use my mouse with the middle finger. It's not working.
Good thing we're going home. No washing dishes for two days and my mother will do all the cooking. Life don't get no better, folks.
You all out there in Internet land have a decent sized weekend. We're leaving rain and going into more rain, but the windshield wipers are fairly new and Fred will be driving. Because I'm injured and all that. I just get to fix dvd players and pass out threats and wave my wooden spoon at Vitt so he'll stay buckled up.
Good times.
That leaves me to get everyone prepared to go. It means I have to do a butt load of laundry because Paige will ALWAYS wait til the last minute to bring her dirty clothes and she HAS to have certain articles to take with her. Spoiled rotten, she is.
It also means I have to clean the kitchen and whatnot because I do not like driving four hours home on Sunday to a nasty kitchen and undone laundry. Drives me nuts.
So, I'm doing laundry and when I reach into the washer to grab a handful of towels.....my fingernail on Pointer finger is bent totally backwards and pops. Snap. I jerk my hand up to see the damage. And being a human being, I snatch the nail off because it's gone and of no use to me anymore in this lifetime. Holy Joseph and the goat. Meat came with it. Suffice it to say I saw many a star floating in my vision.
I can deal with broken nails. I pamper my hands and keep them as lovely as I can. I refuse to get manicures and acrylics simply because I am a mother and wash my hands too many times a day. Broken nails are a part of life and that's that.
But, ye gods, I then had to wash dishes with that hand. Got done and doctored it up nice and neat with a flex band-aid.
Now I'm hitting 4 keys at once and trying to figure out how to use my mouse with the middle finger. It's not working.
Good thing we're going home. No washing dishes for two days and my mother will do all the cooking. Life don't get no better, folks.
You all out there in Internet land have a decent sized weekend. We're leaving rain and going into more rain, but the windshield wipers are fairly new and Fred will be driving. Because I'm injured and all that. I just get to fix dvd players and pass out threats and wave my wooden spoon at Vitt so he'll stay buckled up.
Good times.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
The Only One
Am I the only mother whose son is like this?
Today I turned my back for just a second. I hear a thud and turn around. There lay my son on the floor spread eagle on his back. As I look around to see out exactly what happened, this is what I figured out:
1. He saw my lovely curtains. Valances that hang down the side to the window sill.
2. There is a window sill. With a maybe a 3 inch ledge?
3. There is his chair.
4. Methinks he was playing Tarzan, Spider Man, or some other crazy male.
5. Apparently he climbed up on the window sill, grabbed the curtain, and proceeded to swing out.
And I'm sure as he lay on the floor looking up at his dreams....he seriously couldn't understand why the curtain rod was RIPPED from the wall.
Today I turned my back for just a second. I hear a thud and turn around. There lay my son on the floor spread eagle on his back. As I look around to see out exactly what happened, this is what I figured out:
1. He saw my lovely curtains. Valances that hang down the side to the window sill.
2. There is a window sill. With a maybe a 3 inch ledge?
3. There is his chair.
4. Methinks he was playing Tarzan, Spider Man, or some other crazy male.
5. Apparently he climbed up on the window sill, grabbed the curtain, and proceeded to swing out.
And I'm sure as he lay on the floor looking up at his dreams....he seriously couldn't understand why the curtain rod was RIPPED from the wall.
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