That Boy, That Boy...

 

...will be the death of me.  You may or may not remember the coffee bean incident of last year in which John-Heath accidentally lodged one up his nose while riding in the buggy through the coffee aisle at Wal-mart.  Our local hospital ER nearly ended up sending him to Vanderbilt Children's Hospital for a surgical extraction.  Luckily, the third doctor to look at him decided to give one more idea a try and, voila, the coffee bean was freed from my son's nose.

Well yesterday he comes to me and says, "Mom, I think you may have to take me back to the hospital.  I got something else stuck up my nose."  Surely, he is joking.  Nope.  There, wedged in nice and tight was a little chunk of wax which he sucked up while sniffing a box of Hawaiian Pineapple Cilantro scented wax cubes.  He has always taken notice of how things smell...fruit, flowers, coffee, skunks, farts...so it really does not surprise me that he found himself smelling the wax.  I just wish he wouldn't stick the items so close to his nose.  Dyson vacuum cleaners have nothing on this kid's sniffer.

Tyla

P.S.  I need to send out a big, public HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my hubby, who is beginning his last year as a forty-something.  He still looks pretty good for such an old man, don't you think?  And he has nearly no gray hair which makes me super jealous and is just plain not fair.

Happy 4th of July!!!

Happy 4th of July to you all! Personally, even though there are times I feel our country is headed in a downward spiral, there is simply no other place I'd rather live. It is a fortunate feeling in being able to call one's self an American.

I also want to send out birthday wishes to my nephew Jon who turns 34 today. Happy birthday, Jonathan!!! I remember making a very lame joke about putting a firecracker in your diaper so often it became old very fast. Hey, I was only 7. What can you expect?

image via

Forty-Something

Today, I am celebrating another birthday. As you can tell by the title of this post I am now considered in my forties. Yep. 41 to be exact. Or at least I will be at 4:15 this afternoon. As I was just typing that second sentence I inadvertently typed thirties and had to backspace. *sigh*

My first gift this year (other than a new broom my dad delivered to me for my back porch because he and mom were tired of seeing my ratty old one) was this card from my Aunt Susie. It seems Aunt Susie has read I See London, I See France. Come to think of it, though, she was actually there that dreadfully embarrassing night.

If you can't tell what is happening in the not-so-good picture I took of this card, let me explain. A young woman, obviously impressed with herself, finds it funny that an older woman is walking around with a streamer of toilet paper attached to her shoe, while mooning everyone herself. Aunt Susie is my dad's baby sister. She will celebrating a birthday of her own in just a few more days. I always thought it was neat that she, Pa Frazier (her dad), and myself all celebrated our big days just a few days apart and, also, that there were an even thirty years between us. 1910, 1940, 1970.

As this is the second birthday I've celebrated since beginning to blog I thought I would make a tradition out of posting my ever aging eyes. You'll have to settle for just one of them this year. My other eye twitched when the camera flashed so it got edited out in Picasa.

While playing around with Picasa I found a way to make all those age lines (frown lines in my case, as I am, and have always been, a natural frowner) just disappear.

Just increase the highlights and fill light and take every bit of shadowing out, and you can look as young and wrinkle-free as me.

Birthday Wishes

Today, I want to send out birthday wishes to my favorite niece. Megan is now 23. I was a senior in high school the year she was born and I remember my nephew Shane, her brother, running down the hallway at school to tell me, “Momma had her baby!”

Until I had children of my own she was my child. And, of course, she was none too happy to relinquish that role when Ren was born seven years later. I remember when Ren was only a few weeks old being at my sister’s house where everyone was oohing and ahhing over her - everyone except Megan, who shouted “all ya’ll care about is that dumb baby” and took leave to her room where she packed her bags intent on running away. Moments later, she re-entered the living room and interrupted the newborn baby worship with this announcement, “I’ve got my phone and some clean panties and I’m going to the building.” Evidently, she didn’t want to run too far, as the building was just off the back patio.

Happy birthday, Meg-Peg! I’m sorry you were disappointed in not retaining your role as my beneficiary, but you are still my favorite niece ;)

Oct. 2 Is a Great Day...

...because it's my Daddy's birthday

Happy 79th, Daddy!

- a.k.a your little girl

The First Best Day of My Life

Dear Ren,

Fifteen years ago today I met someone most dear. You. You came in the form of pink, fleshy softness with a perfectly round head and purple feet and will one day be the person who decides in which nursing home I should live. I hope we’re on good terms then :>).

You have brought me joy and a certain amount of agnst, typical for moms and daughters, over these years. But mostly joy. And happiness. And laughter. Even the story of your birth is partly humorous to those who know me and my low level tolerance for pain. I should have known then you would be quite the cut-up. So today I will share it with you, just in case one day you want to know all the little details. And keep in mind, your momma’s a wuss. No, I’m not proud of that fact, but it’s who I am.

Let me start by saying you were planned. And when I say planned I mean really planned, as in charts and thermometers planned. It’s almost as if we hand picked you from the millions of possible yous you could have been.

The week before your ETA I asked my ob-gyn if it would be possible to be induced on your exact due date and she agreed, so September 25 it was. Honestly, had I waited and let nature take its course you would probably be celebrating your birthday in October.

The night of the 24th your dad and I talked about the fact that we were likely spending our last worry-free night. We've since found out that we were correct in that thought.

A few hours later, though, I was up early getting ready to head to the hospital. I arrived, checked in, and within a short time was in my bed sitting up all nice and pretty with a smile on my face. The first nurse to arrive remarked that I must be one of the moms being induced that day. “Why, yes I am. But how did you know,” I asked. She answered that, “most women who come in already in labor don’t take time to fix their hair and put on makeup.” Oh.

My preliminary impression of being induced was this...you go in, they give you a medicine in drip-form through an IV, and this causes your body to, within a matter of an hour or two tops, birth a baby. No fuss! No muss!

My postliminary impression of being induced was this...you go in, they give you medicine via an IV, and this causes your body, a body that is not ready to have a baby, to go into hyper drive with contractions trying to force something out that is, again, not ready to come out. And along with this you also get to experience such wonderful things as enemas (described to a naive you as “just some nice warm water in a bag.”) and internal monitors put in place by a lady with a hand the size of a catcher’s mitt.

The baby-inducing drug started to flow into my system at approximately eight o’clock that morning. By eight-thirty I was no longer sitting up all nice and pretty with a smile on my face. My body, which before now had not even hinted at contracting, not even via those fake Braxton Hicks' ones, was squeezing and contorting and flexing, making me feel like one big spasm. I was in my drug-induced labor and was experiencing what they called “back labor”. And it hurt! Bad! A little Demerol was given to “take the edge off.” The edge remained. I was beginning to wonder if the tales of epidurals and spinal blocks were all some big hoax. Where were these miracles of science that would allow me to give birth and at the same time play a hand of cards with friends or take walks down the hall in my bathrobe holding hands with your dad?

After much writhing and grinding and weeping and gnashing I begged for relief. “Pleeeease, won’t you just do that thing where I don’t feel anything from my ankles up,” I beseeched. It seems that doctors do not like to give epidurals until one’s cervix has dilated somewhere in the range of 4 or 5 centimeters. “Well, we’ll have to examine you again.” Nurse Mitt returns and up she goes. This is the verbal exchange that followed.

Nurse Mitt: (grunts) “Huh”

Me: (in exasperation) What am I? Seven? Eight? Nine?

Nurse Mitt: (very dryly) Honey, you might be one and a half.

But, you know what? I got that epidural anyway. While it seems that doctors do prefer to wait before giving it, it also seems they prefer not to hear whiney patients even more. Well let me tell you, it was the most beautiful feeling I had ever known. I could then just sit there all nice and pretty with a big smile on my face and watch that little line on the monitor go up and down with nary a care.

Then your heart rate started doing some funny things. This was the most scared I was throughout the entire experience. You seemed to be in distress and there was nothing I could do to help you. Luckily, it was just the internal monitor needing a little adjustment. Around this same time I noticed I was beginning to feel pain again. And it wasn’t long before the writhing and grinding and weeping and gnashing returned.

This time the doctor herself entered for an examination. Her findings? You were too big a baby to enter the natural way. You would need to be delivered through a Caesarean section. And at that point I was given a whopping dose of some other miracle drug and, just like that, no pain again.

After being transferred onto another bed I was wheeled into the operating room, accompanied by your dad, of course. I had the sweetest nurse anesthetist and his soft, kind voice helped me remain calm as they were putting up a blue curtainy thing in front of my face to keep me from seeing anything too frightening or bloody. At some point my doctor asked if I “felt that.” When I answered “no” she said we were ready to begin. The only thing I felt throughout the entire C-section was a bit of tugging just before you made your grand entrance.

You entered this world at 4:29 p.m. that Marvelous Monday weighing in at six pounds fourteen ounces (turns out you weren't such a big baby after all). After a brief initial examination and cleaning you were wrapped in a blanket and handed to your daddy. He brought you to my side and I was able to see you for the first time. You were beautiful. The two things I remember from our first meeting was a reddish-colored birthmark far back on the right side of your face and dark blue eyes (which later turned to brown). Your dad only let me look for a minute and then he walked you to the nursery for a more thorough cleaning. Along the way eager relatives tried to get a peek at you but all they saw were your little purple feet. Your daddy had covered your face with the blanket to keep anyone from seeing you just yet, as you still had a little blood around your nose. You know how your dad likes to keep up appearances and all.

One of your first frowns.

Within a short time you were on display through the nursery window for all the world to see. And we knew you were a performer from the start. You practically rolled over that first day!

On Wednesday, it was time to take you home. Our house would no longer be the home for a couple, but rather a family. For this, your first outing, you wore the same outfit I wore on my trip home - a little, white two-piece sleep-set with green trim monogrammed with the words Take Me Home. This same outfit has since been worn by your brother too. One of these days I hope you will have the chance to dress your own little boy or girl in it for their homegoing.

Happy birthday, my sweet girl. Thank you for giving me the first best day of my life. I love you.

I'm glad we were able to take you home.

P.S. This post is linking up as a participant in Kevin and Layla's Favorite Blog Posts of 2010 Party over at the Lettered Cottage. It's one of my three most favorite posts I wrote in my first year to blog.

A Birthday Party

Getting ready to blow out the candle while everyone sings to him.

This past Saturday we celebrated John-Heath's birthday. He turned the big FIVE. He actually turned 5 on the 10th. June 10th. He knows this date well. You can ask him anything you want about his age and his answer is most usually given as "June 10th".

"How old are you, John-Heath?"

"June 10th."

"Hello, little boy. How old are you?"

"June 10th."

"My, you're a handsome little thing. How old are you?"
"June 10th"

Now, don't get me wrong. He's a bright boy and he does know his age. With a little coaxing you can finally get him to say it. However, a few years ago when we first started teaching him things about himself, i.e. telephone #, address, birthdate, etc., I supposed we emphasized June 10th a bit too much.

Opening his Cranky the Crane with Pa Gene, Dylan, Weston, and Jonathan looking on.

My mother, once she finally got over the initial shock of my pregnancy and came to look forward to the arrival of a new grandchild, had hoped that the baby would be born on her birthday of June 8, which happened to be a Wednesday in 2005. However, my doctor was off that day and so my planned c-section had to be planned for another day. It would have to wait until Friday, June 10.

I had thought about celebrating this milestone with some of his little pre-school buddies. However, I decided that I would wait until his 6th one to do that. This would be our last little "family only" celebration.

The guest list included the usual - everyone in my immediate family and everyone in John's immediate family. John served up his wonderful bbq. It was, as usual, deeelish. And, of course, after dinner and presents and cake John took the kids on the traditional family hike on some trails he had cut through the farm.

Heading out on the hike. Weston and Dylan take along the Nerf shotguns in case they run in to any wild animals. John-Heath took something more important than that...a Diet Coke.

As for presents, well he got several new Thomas the Tank Engine wooden pieces, including Cranky the Crane, a Buzz Lightyear Lego Set, and some books. But I think the gift he has enjoyed the most is the Slip and Slide my sister got him. He has received sooo much enjoyment from that. Although Sissy was a little disappointed in it's size. She thought it looked much bigger in the picture on the box. Tim pointed out that the price they paid for it should probably have been an indication of its size. Nonetheless, it is fantastic and he has had a ball on it.

Slippin and Slidin - the next day.

One of the funniest moments came when John-Heath, Ren, and Megan were trying it out after everyone else had gone. At some point Ren and John-Heath went down at the same time and this caused water to be splashed in his face. Without missing a beat, and practically in one long run-on sentence, John-Heath admonishes, "Ugh, Ren. You got water up my nose! Now I'm gonna have a nose like you!"

A Milestone

Today, my little boy, my sweet-as-a-pickle baby boy turned 5. I can't believe these years have gone by so quickly. Because everyone has been busy this week with VBS at church we're having a party for him on Saturday with family. He is soooo excited. I'll post pictures from that night for sure.

For tonight I just wanted to write down a very brief, somewhat humorous story from the day he was born.

During the entire length of my pregnancy with John-Heath the doctor was unable to detect his sex. And, due to some initial health issues, there were many opportunities. However, the kid just wasn't giving anything up. The closest we came was a time when a tech went somethig like, "Oh, wait. I thought I saw som...nevermind." That was it. Not really the evidence one is looking for prior to painting a room blue.

Of course, we wanted a healthy baby and its sex didn't matter as long as it was healthy. But, down deep, I was hoping for a boy. We had a girl. It would be nice to have one of each.

The day of the delivery, which was a scheduled c-section by the way, did not go as smoothly as I remembered from having Ren (who also ended up being born via c-section). For one thing, I don't remember the catheter being as uncomfortable in 1995 as it was ten years later. In fact, I remember thinking, "Heyyyy. This not having to get up to go to the bathroom is pretty cool." It was much less cool the second go around. Another thing - I was in a private room the entire time prior to Ren's birth. With John-Heath, because I was a scheduled c-section, they had me in some sort of semi-private prep room. And, because of some emergency deliveries, etc. my 10:00 a.m. delivery time got pushed back past 2:30. So there I sat... in a room that turned out to be less than private because they put another lady in there with me (a very loud lady, who didn't mind letting everyone in the entire wing know any time she had a pain) with a not so cool catheter that I wanted to yank out.

And, on top of everything, once I was taken in to the O R for the C-section it took FOREVER to get the spinal block to take. I don't know. Maybe it was my age but I was much more jumpy and nervous this time around. Of course, it could have also been that loud woman who made me more nervous.

But it all turned out okay and at the end of the day I had my little boy. And this is how that announcement went...

Dr. Caldwell: What did you say you have now? A girl?

Me: Yes. I have a daughter.

Dr. Caldwell: Well, now you have a son.

Me: Reeeealllly? A boy? -pause- Are you sure?

Dr. Caldwell: Well, he's got a penis. I'm pretty sure.

Happy birthday, baby boy! Mommy loves you!

A Recap

It seems like forever since I last posted anything and, well, I don't really have anything big to share tonight. To be honest I have not felt much like blogging lately. Mostly, I think, it's just because things get so busy at the end of a school year that when it finally comes to an end you just want to not do anything you were doing before - at least for a little while. So, I probably won't be posting everyday, just as things pop up.

Here's a rundown of what's been going on with our family over the past few days.

1. John turned 47 yesterday. I am told that when one reaches a certain age he or she doesn't really like to celebrate anymore. Therefore, the kids and I just took him to a simple little dinner at Cherokee Steakhouse. Being there made us want a boat in a very bad way. For those that are not familiar with this place, Cherokee is also a marina.

2. We are possibly refinancing our mortgage. If this happens it will get our interest rate down to 4.25%, which is a pretty good rate, I guess. Wouldn't it be nice to not even have a mortgage? Of course, not having a mortgage might mean not having a house. Therefore, we are thankful for every payment we make.

3. Ren has had what you might say is her first heartbreak. I won't go into many details right now. Let's just say she is finding out the young man she has liked for the past couple months is not the guy she thought him to be.

4. John-Heath's play set is almost complete and he is loving it.

5. I am not loving the sand John added to it. Said sand is being removed this week.

6. John-Heath will be turning 5 this week. I just can't hardly believe it.

7. I have been sick this week with what I think is the same thing John-Heath and John have already gone through. I have sneezed 321 times today. Okay, I wasn't actually keeping count but it was a lot!!!

Well, it's late (or early, depending on how you look at it) and I am off to sleep. Goodnight friends. I'll be sure to post again in a couple days.

Ghost of a Birthday Past

A card, addressed to Tilah, from my great-nephews. Weston hopes I'll like my "raket" makers (chimes).

Two days ago I turned 40. Insert sigh. 40. Not sure I'm liking the sound of that. Other than the number associated with this particular birthday it was a nice day and evening spent with my closest family members. Just my mom and dad (so glad I still have them with me to celebrate), my own family, and my sister's family.

My sister had us all down for a bbq supper. My brother-n-law cooks a mean pig. Luckily, John got his recipe a while back. Now we can have it at home from time to time without having to wait on an invite for special occasions.

Besides the tasty grub the loot was also excellent this year. A little money, a little Clinique, a really nice, not-so-little shrub, a beautiful set of chimes, and a wok and all the bamboo accessories to go with it. Okay. You can stop laughing now. I know what you are thinking. At least, I know what those who really know me are thinking. But the truth is I am excited about using it (the wok). And when I have mastered it I will have you all over for some stir fry.

40-year-old eyes sans makeup

Do you find yourself thinking back on past birthdays whenever another one rolls around? I do. Unfortunately, even if I think really hard, I cannot remember them all. I vividly remember my 17th, like it was yesterday, though.

I was allowed to have a sleepover with a small group of friends. At some point at school that day we learned that a bunch of our guy friends would be camping in some woods to the rear of a large field on Pleasant Grove Road. Though the last words from my mother's mouth were "And I'd better not find out that you all have gone where those boys are camping," we made a beeline in that direction as soon as we had finished eating dinner.

After a short visit we headed back out across the field toward the car, that horrible green Chevrolet Impala I was forced to drive. When we were about half the distance back to the edge of the field we noticed a car coming down the road. It was none other than Kelsey Carver, Wendy's dad. Normally, this might not have been an issue. But, alas, Wendy was with me...in this party of delinquents...at my sleepover...and her daddy knew this. It didn't take long for him to pull over, exit his vehicle, and proceed to cross said field - flashlight in hand. So Wendy and I spent the next several minutes -which seemed like hours - on our bellies crawling as far away as we could while the other girls in the group told at least two versions of a story explaining our absence. We had gone with other friends to Gallatin. No, wait. We were out town at the car wash. Ummm. She loaned us her car. You get the picture. To make their storyline(s) believable the girls reluctantly left us slithering along while they drove off in my car, followed for a while by Kelcey.

There were, of course, consequences to our night of frolicking - my mother found out within a day what we had done and, worst of all, I ruined the new pair of white ankle boots I had been given for my birthday while crawling around in that field.

Picture of that fun night to come just as soon as I find and scan it.

What I Did On My Spring Break

Spring break 2010 is coming to an end. This Monday we all, students and teachers alike, head back to the daily grind. Of course, with SB coming so late in the year it won't be long before we are out for summer. It has been a WONDERFUL break. We could not have custom-ordered better weather. Mostly, we just hung around the house and did nothing special but it was nice just the same.

We...

Began spring break with some type of virus

Repainted our master bed and bath

(same color as before, it just needed refreshing-you'll see why below)

Remulched the flower beds, etc.

Cleaned the porches and porch furniture

Sprayed for bugs

Lawn work

Visited nurseries

Added ferns to the porches

Planted annuals in the flower beds and urns

mowed

mowed again

mowed yet again

Ended spring break by turning 40 (tomorrow)

Take that all you people who spent yours on a beach or at a spa. I know you're just dying from envy right now.

Not long after moving in to my dream house my little boy, age 2 at the time, suprises me with artwork on my bedroom wall by proudly proclaiming, "Look, Mommy. A circle." Most other rooms in the house have similar tales to tell.

Skate Date

Today we spent a few hours celebrating Weston Shane's 9th birthday at the local skating rink. Weston is my great-nephew.

I have not been skating in yeeaaarrrrs. My skateless streak remains unchanged after today. But, rewind 25 years, I did quite well whenever I strapped 8 wheels to my feet.

Megan and Jessie lead Ren around the floor. By the end of the party she was able to hold her own (self up).

During the two decades of my youth, the 70's and 80's, it seemed that every town with more than 1,000 people had a roller rink. And while our little town did not, we were surrounded by three other towns that did.

John helping John-Heath, who looked like a newborn colt...all legs and not sure what to do with them.

And almost everyone, at some point in their adolescent years, either attended a birthday party or held their own party at one of these fine establishments. A milestone of my very own life, my 13th birthday, was held at the Portland Skating Center. I think I still have the free t-shirt I received packed away somewhere.

Meg and Dylan (my other great-nephew) who was very focused and dedicated to learning to skate.

Then roller-skating fell out of fashion and many a skating rink was forced to close up shop, including the three closest to my town. And for years we were left without this form of entertainment (even if you didn't skate you could get a kick out of watching others fall). Luckily, a nice new rink opened up in our county seat just a couple years ago, and there has been a re-emergence in this family-friendly past time. And, thankfully, they even play some of the classics from the 80's rinks.

Ren and Megan with the birthday boy.

DO YOU REMEMBER...

A partial early/mid-80's roller rink play list

"You Dropped a Bomb On Me"

"Another One Bites the Dust"

"I Love Rock n Roll"

"Freak-a-zoid"

"Centerfold"

"We Are Family"

Any Journey song for Couples' Skate

And, no birthday party at the skate rink would be complete without "Limbo" or the "Hokey Pokey".

Every limbo boy and girl

All around the limbo world
Gonna do the limbo rock
All around the limbo clock.
Jack be limbo, Jack be quick
Jack go unda limbo stick.

All around the limbo clock
Hey, let's do the limbo rock