Tonight I walked in the door from work, and the First Grader walked up to me, never spoke and stuck a sticky note on my shoulder that read, "Pandcake Sat. 24, 2012". Guess what's for breakfast this weekend? Subtle hints go a long way with me.
We went on a scout field trip tonight to make little wooden, hammer-it-yourself crafts. Lots of tongue-biting (a bizarre family trait shared by me, my dad and my brother which mildly stresses my hubby)and left-handed hammering from the First Grader. The Sixth Grader also made two of them and said they'd be good to go home and burn. He's not a pyromaniac, I promise. He's weird but not a pyromaniac.
I completely and totally came unglued at work today. It is not uncommon for me to get somewhat annoyed on a somewhat regular basis, however so furious that my ears turn red- well, not such a regular occurrence. I left a shaky-voiced message on a ladies machine. Not my finest moment but one I still feel was necessary... unless I lose my job tomorrow. Then I might rethink that. I knew I scared the lady because she called back and offered to send me some Starbucks. Not too bad for a girl who doesn't lose it very often. I must throw an impressive fit. I may look into doing that a little more often. I like the little danish things from that place.
So there are your odds and ends. You are welcome.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Girl Power
I'm in a book club. I just love saying that. It makes me feel smart. A big part of our book club is about getting together to eat and gab, but we do read a book and discuss it at the gathering, so it is a book club. I get to say that. I had book club at my house tonight and a big time. We're reading Lineage of Grace about women in the Bible that were in Jesus's lineage. They were some amazing women, that's for sure, and they were all in His family. It got me to thinking, I've got some mighty fine women in my family too.
My mom is a recurring theme in my blogs, so you know that I really like her. She's way up there on my amazing woman list. My mom was faithful to take all three of us to church and make sure we were raised in a Christian home. She was fair and balanced long before Fox News was. For example, Mom recognized that on occasion, very rare occasion, I just needed a day off from school. She would allow it and even write a note the next day for the school to please excuse the absence, but she never, ever would lie and say I was sick. She didn't put anything about why. She left that for me to do because no way, no how would my mom ever lie. Ever. Honesty is her thang. Unfortunately, when I would hand my note in at the office the next day, and they asked why I was out, I'm not so sure I was always quite so honest. "Were you sick?" they would ask. "Um, OK." would be my reply. My brother was always very bitter that she would let me "lay-out" and literally, this maybe happened twice while I was in high school. One of them was on "Senior Layout Day", you know, where the whole idea was to be sneaky and layout. I just explained to Mom about the day and told her I was going to layout if it was OK. She said OK, I was allowed to layout, so I did. I'm such a rebel. Anyway, back to the brother griping thing. I'll never forget Mom's reply when he said she was easier on me than him. "Oh just hush, at least she tells me she's laying out like you never did!" You get him, Mom!
The amazing woman I've known second longest is my sister. Mom beat her out by a few days- that whole hospital thing. I think my sister and I would both probably tell you that we've always loved each other bunches but started liking each other lots when we didn't have to live together anymore. I think a whole lot of sisters might tell you that. I would like to list what my sister is. I'm listing it because I'm afraid anything else would just seem like a mention. You cannot just mention these things because she's not just a little or sort of any of them. I cannot emphasize enough the she is 110% of the following things:
She is a prayer warrior- You hear that about a lot of folks, and it is probably true. My sister is the prayer warrior poster child. The verse says, "Pray without ceasing". She's on it. She prays over meals she fixes for people, that God would let them turn out well. She prays before she goes shopping that God will let her find the best deals. I've heard one of our friends say before, "It was a big thing, so we got her to pray about it." This girl is at the foot of the cross. When we've talked prayer in Sunday School before, she was my example of how it's done. Because of her, I don't think of anything as too small to pray about. If it's important to me, it's important to Him. She knows her Bible inside and out too. Just a little side note there. Makes me feel like a dork because I really, really need to study it more.
She is generous- You never see my sister and leave empty handed. If she finds a smokin' deal at CVS for a gallon of liquid hand soap for a quarter, she stocks us all up. My hands were the cleanest they've ever been on that one. I currently have slivered almonds on my salads because they were on clearance somewhere, so she got us all some. I dipped everything not nailed down in almond bark this Christmas because Walgreen had tons of it for less than a dollar, so she hooked us all up. She shows up with clothes for my kids and even me when she's found a deal and thinks it looks like something we'd like. Someday, my sister will be the executor of Mom and Dad's will She loves to give stuff away, and she likes me better than my brother. Score! (OK, she's never said she likes me better, one would just assume.)
She is frugal- Did you notice a common theme in the "She is generous" section. Do the words clearance, deal, and sale stick out to you at all? If not, they should. I'm gonna go ahead and say this one twice. It really needs to be emphasized. She is frugal. She is frugal. The words "retail price" are not in her vocabulary. My sister and her coupons are not soon parted. She's not a crazy extreme couponer. She just has coupon for about anything at about any given time. My hubby and I had a romantic anniversary dinner at the Vineyard for half price one time thanks to her coupons. It was so cheap it tasted better- seriously. I've said she'll bury Mom and Dad buy one get one free someday. More power to her.
She is a planner- If there is going to be conflict between sisters these days, it will fall under this section. She is a planner- a way, way planner. I won't say I'm not a planner because I do tend to organize family functions for our entire gang, but not everything I do is planned. It is the "not everythings" that tend to drive us a little crazy with each other on occasion. I must admit though, her planning usually really works out to our benefit. If you go to visit her for the weekend, there will be a menu written out listing everything in her fridge that might interest your taste buds. While there for a visit, a plan will be in place of what might be fun for the weekend while you're there. You don't necessarily have to do it, it's just always good to have a plan. Her father-in-law is a big fan of hers in this area. He's bragged to me on more than one occasion, "She makes sure you're taken care of when you visit, doesn't she?" He is impressed. My cousin found out that her son would be going to a doctor in my sister's town for some health issues. My aunt let my sister know and make no mistake, she was on it. I told my friends that my cousin sure picked the right town because my sister would have it under control. I was not mistaken. You got a crisis and need a plan? She is your girl- no job too big or too small.
There is a print on my wall that my sister gave me for Christmas in 1993. It says, "Dear Sister, through the years of joy and tears, God provides and sees us through. What a special gift He gave, when He gave me you." I realize more and more each year the special gift I have in my sister.
Next on my list are the in-laws. With a whole lot of people in this world, the word "in-laws" instantly stirs up eye rolls or hateful tones or some kind of mean joke. You better sit down when I tell you this one. I like mine. There are three women in my life that have "in-law" attached to their title. I almost don't like saying that part when I talk about them because of the negativity that can come with that title to some people. I've always qualified the statement "my sister-in-law" when referencing my brother's wife with "but she's really just more like my sister". And she was. She was part of my life from the time I was nine years old, and she definitely would fall under the amazing category, especially how she handled what all the last few years of her life brought with it. My hubby's mom and sister are the other two with that "in-law" stuck to their title, although I sort of just prefer saying my hubby's mom and sister. Not only have they been my family for the last fourteen years of my marriage, but I would say a even a few years before that. I hang out a lot with these folks- on their deck, at the beach, at Watauga, all holidays, and lots of dinners out. We usually spend a whole lot of that time laughing and laughing lots- sometimes to the point where we almost pee in our chair, but I'll not mention any names, Iana Day. I love how these two women love my kids, and they've been a huge help to us with them especially the years before they started school. I call them lots to tell them funny things one of the kids has said or done because I know they'll be as tickled with him as I am. In a world where not everybody thinks your kids are as great as you think they are, I'm always so excited that I've got some ladies who do. So yeah, I like my in-laws. How weird is that?
There are three more amazing ladies in my family who I've had the privilege of loving since the day they were born. My nieces. Oh, how I love my nieces. My oldest niece made my parents grandparents and my sister and I aunts, and facts are facts, we didn't think there had ever been a baby born before her. Looking back, I can now see that my mom, dad, sister and I were probably a pretty obnoxious bunch, sticking my niece's baby picture or my actual niece in peoples' faces every chance we got. I think we might have lost some friends during those years. We bought more clothes, toys, books and just stuff her first few years than all of our other years combined. "Package" was one of her first words because she got so many in her mailbox in Arizona. She's gotten to do all the firsts in our family, from screaming on Santa's lap (Grandpa had to rescue her) to homecoming court, proms, and graduation. Celebrating these milestones has been big times for us all. Things haven't been easy the last year, but that baby we thought hung the moon has turned into a young lady of substance who stayed where she was needed when times were tough. I don't think I just speak for myself here but for our whole family when I say it was during that time that she made us most proud.
I was visiting my brother and his wife in Arizona when she found out she was pregnant with my second niece. I didn't officially meet my second niece until she was two months old, but my, how taken I was with her. I hate to brag (not really) but seriously, this kid was one of the most beautiful preschoolers I've ever seen. And contrary to what my sister-in-law might have said, I don't just say that because she looked like our side of the family. Besides, we can't help it if we've got really good genes. When the sixth grader and my nephew were little, we called them her disciples. They went where she went and did what she did and generally just worshipped the ground she walked on. I love, love, love when she comes to visit us these days. You know the line, "You make me happy when skies are gray"? Yep, that's her. She's just so much fun to have around. We talk and laugh and play games, she just makes me smile. She's still very pretty and just so happens, she still looks like our bunch. What can we say?
Then there was surprise niece number three arriving 9 and 6 years after the first two. When my sister-in-law was pregnant with her, we all went to the ultrasound to find out what she was having. By all, I mean, my brother, my two nieces, me, my oldest, my dad and my mom. Was my sister-in-law a good sport or what? This niece was round, blond and smiley. As she grew, she was yet another repeat of her mom just like her oldest sister. Now-a-days, she is usually the one I see my sister-in-law in most. She has given everybody a run for their money since about the time she learned to talk. Unpredictable would be a good description I'd say. She keeps my brother on his toes with him encouraging her often to "use her powers for good". Since there is a little payback in order for all the bugging he did to me when we were little, I think this girl has got me covered. Hands down, her best attribute has to be her squeezability- ohhh, she's fun to just get a hold of and hug on. Makes me bite my tongue just thinking about it.
So there you have it. A line-up of ladies that I love to spend time with and that I think the world of. A group of girls that have been through it all with me and that I love so much. Amazing women that I'm proud to call my family.
My mom is a recurring theme in my blogs, so you know that I really like her. She's way up there on my amazing woman list. My mom was faithful to take all three of us to church and make sure we were raised in a Christian home. She was fair and balanced long before Fox News was. For example, Mom recognized that on occasion, very rare occasion, I just needed a day off from school. She would allow it and even write a note the next day for the school to please excuse the absence, but she never, ever would lie and say I was sick. She didn't put anything about why. She left that for me to do because no way, no how would my mom ever lie. Ever. Honesty is her thang. Unfortunately, when I would hand my note in at the office the next day, and they asked why I was out, I'm not so sure I was always quite so honest. "Were you sick?" they would ask. "Um, OK." would be my reply. My brother was always very bitter that she would let me "lay-out" and literally, this maybe happened twice while I was in high school. One of them was on "Senior Layout Day", you know, where the whole idea was to be sneaky and layout. I just explained to Mom about the day and told her I was going to layout if it was OK. She said OK, I was allowed to layout, so I did. I'm such a rebel. Anyway, back to the brother griping thing. I'll never forget Mom's reply when he said she was easier on me than him. "Oh just hush, at least she tells me she's laying out like you never did!" You get him, Mom!
The amazing woman I've known second longest is my sister. Mom beat her out by a few days- that whole hospital thing. I think my sister and I would both probably tell you that we've always loved each other bunches but started liking each other lots when we didn't have to live together anymore. I think a whole lot of sisters might tell you that. I would like to list what my sister is. I'm listing it because I'm afraid anything else would just seem like a mention. You cannot just mention these things because she's not just a little or sort of any of them. I cannot emphasize enough the she is 110% of the following things:
She is a prayer warrior- You hear that about a lot of folks, and it is probably true. My sister is the prayer warrior poster child. The verse says, "Pray without ceasing". She's on it. She prays over meals she fixes for people, that God would let them turn out well. She prays before she goes shopping that God will let her find the best deals. I've heard one of our friends say before, "It was a big thing, so we got her to pray about it." This girl is at the foot of the cross. When we've talked prayer in Sunday School before, she was my example of how it's done. Because of her, I don't think of anything as too small to pray about. If it's important to me, it's important to Him. She knows her Bible inside and out too. Just a little side note there. Makes me feel like a dork because I really, really need to study it more.
She is generous- You never see my sister and leave empty handed. If she finds a smokin' deal at CVS for a gallon of liquid hand soap for a quarter, she stocks us all up. My hands were the cleanest they've ever been on that one. I currently have slivered almonds on my salads because they were on clearance somewhere, so she got us all some. I dipped everything not nailed down in almond bark this Christmas because Walgreen had tons of it for less than a dollar, so she hooked us all up. She shows up with clothes for my kids and even me when she's found a deal and thinks it looks like something we'd like. Someday, my sister will be the executor of Mom and Dad's will She loves to give stuff away, and she likes me better than my brother. Score! (OK, she's never said she likes me better, one would just assume.)
She is frugal- Did you notice a common theme in the "She is generous" section. Do the words clearance, deal, and sale stick out to you at all? If not, they should. I'm gonna go ahead and say this one twice. It really needs to be emphasized. She is frugal. She is frugal. The words "retail price" are not in her vocabulary. My sister and her coupons are not soon parted. She's not a crazy extreme couponer. She just has coupon for about anything at about any given time. My hubby and I had a romantic anniversary dinner at the Vineyard for half price one time thanks to her coupons. It was so cheap it tasted better- seriously. I've said she'll bury Mom and Dad buy one get one free someday. More power to her.
She is a planner- If there is going to be conflict between sisters these days, it will fall under this section. She is a planner- a way, way planner. I won't say I'm not a planner because I do tend to organize family functions for our entire gang, but not everything I do is planned. It is the "not everythings" that tend to drive us a little crazy with each other on occasion. I must admit though, her planning usually really works out to our benefit. If you go to visit her for the weekend, there will be a menu written out listing everything in her fridge that might interest your taste buds. While there for a visit, a plan will be in place of what might be fun for the weekend while you're there. You don't necessarily have to do it, it's just always good to have a plan. Her father-in-law is a big fan of hers in this area. He's bragged to me on more than one occasion, "She makes sure you're taken care of when you visit, doesn't she?" He is impressed. My cousin found out that her son would be going to a doctor in my sister's town for some health issues. My aunt let my sister know and make no mistake, she was on it. I told my friends that my cousin sure picked the right town because my sister would have it under control. I was not mistaken. You got a crisis and need a plan? She is your girl- no job too big or too small.
There is a print on my wall that my sister gave me for Christmas in 1993. It says, "Dear Sister, through the years of joy and tears, God provides and sees us through. What a special gift He gave, when He gave me you." I realize more and more each year the special gift I have in my sister.
Next on my list are the in-laws. With a whole lot of people in this world, the word "in-laws" instantly stirs up eye rolls or hateful tones or some kind of mean joke. You better sit down when I tell you this one. I like mine. There are three women in my life that have "in-law" attached to their title. I almost don't like saying that part when I talk about them because of the negativity that can come with that title to some people. I've always qualified the statement "my sister-in-law" when referencing my brother's wife with "but she's really just more like my sister". And she was. She was part of my life from the time I was nine years old, and she definitely would fall under the amazing category, especially how she handled what all the last few years of her life brought with it. My hubby's mom and sister are the other two with that "in-law" stuck to their title, although I sort of just prefer saying my hubby's mom and sister. Not only have they been my family for the last fourteen years of my marriage, but I would say a even a few years before that. I hang out a lot with these folks- on their deck, at the beach, at Watauga, all holidays, and lots of dinners out. We usually spend a whole lot of that time laughing and laughing lots- sometimes to the point where we almost pee in our chair, but I'll not mention any names, Iana Day. I love how these two women love my kids, and they've been a huge help to us with them especially the years before they started school. I call them lots to tell them funny things one of the kids has said or done because I know they'll be as tickled with him as I am. In a world where not everybody thinks your kids are as great as you think they are, I'm always so excited that I've got some ladies who do. So yeah, I like my in-laws. How weird is that?
There are three more amazing ladies in my family who I've had the privilege of loving since the day they were born. My nieces. Oh, how I love my nieces. My oldest niece made my parents grandparents and my sister and I aunts, and facts are facts, we didn't think there had ever been a baby born before her. Looking back, I can now see that my mom, dad, sister and I were probably a pretty obnoxious bunch, sticking my niece's baby picture or my actual niece in peoples' faces every chance we got. I think we might have lost some friends during those years. We bought more clothes, toys, books and just stuff her first few years than all of our other years combined. "Package" was one of her first words because she got so many in her mailbox in Arizona. She's gotten to do all the firsts in our family, from screaming on Santa's lap (Grandpa had to rescue her) to homecoming court, proms, and graduation. Celebrating these milestones has been big times for us all. Things haven't been easy the last year, but that baby we thought hung the moon has turned into a young lady of substance who stayed where she was needed when times were tough. I don't think I just speak for myself here but for our whole family when I say it was during that time that she made us most proud.
I was visiting my brother and his wife in Arizona when she found out she was pregnant with my second niece. I didn't officially meet my second niece until she was two months old, but my, how taken I was with her. I hate to brag (not really) but seriously, this kid was one of the most beautiful preschoolers I've ever seen. And contrary to what my sister-in-law might have said, I don't just say that because she looked like our side of the family. Besides, we can't help it if we've got really good genes. When the sixth grader and my nephew were little, we called them her disciples. They went where she went and did what she did and generally just worshipped the ground she walked on. I love, love, love when she comes to visit us these days. You know the line, "You make me happy when skies are gray"? Yep, that's her. She's just so much fun to have around. We talk and laugh and play games, she just makes me smile. She's still very pretty and just so happens, she still looks like our bunch. What can we say?
Then there was surprise niece number three arriving 9 and 6 years after the first two. When my sister-in-law was pregnant with her, we all went to the ultrasound to find out what she was having. By all, I mean, my brother, my two nieces, me, my oldest, my dad and my mom. Was my sister-in-law a good sport or what? This niece was round, blond and smiley. As she grew, she was yet another repeat of her mom just like her oldest sister. Now-a-days, she is usually the one I see my sister-in-law in most. She has given everybody a run for their money since about the time she learned to talk. Unpredictable would be a good description I'd say. She keeps my brother on his toes with him encouraging her often to "use her powers for good". Since there is a little payback in order for all the bugging he did to me when we were little, I think this girl has got me covered. Hands down, her best attribute has to be her squeezability- ohhh, she's fun to just get a hold of and hug on. Makes me bite my tongue just thinking about it.
So there you have it. A line-up of ladies that I love to spend time with and that I think the world of. A group of girls that have been through it all with me and that I love so much. Amazing women that I'm proud to call my family.
 |
| If this isn't a bunch of girl power all huddled together, I don't know what is. |
Sunday, March 18, 2012
I'm Leavin' On a Jet Plane
I had to go on a little business trip this weekend to Dallas. I didn't see JR, and Lucy didn't come to lunch. Sorry Karen and Travis. My sister and her husband got a little too hooked on Dallas reruns when they were dating and first married. The night they were watching and my sister exclaimed in a shocked tone, "Well, what's Lucy doing at lunch?", the hubby and I started having concern that they actually thought they were Ewings. It was when they started humming the show's theme song when they pulled into their driveway that we really got concerned. OK, that part was maybe an exaggeration.
I used to get a little uptight when I had to travel, but I guess as my kids have gotten older, I've gotten over that some. Once I got on a plane, I was fine. It was just the thought of leaving and some "what ifs". It's weird, but I think my sister-in-law dying has had something to do with my change of attitude as well. One of the worst possible things I can imagine actually happened to my family. Somehow it takes some of the pressure off of the "what ifs" because one of the "what ifs" happened. I'm sure that sounds completely insane to normal people, but if you've read this blog more than three minutes, you know by now that I may not fall into that "normal people" category.
I had some revelations on this trip. First of all, and there is a chance that this one may make me a bit of a bad mother, but lying in a hotel bed watching any stupid show on TV that I want with no laundry to go throw in the dryer during commercials or dishwashers to load isn't such a bad gig on occasion. I love my family dearly, but I figure they can survive fine without me for a couple of nights.
And about those TV shows. I have also found that cable TV has a reality show/documentary type show for about any topic you could imagine. I just have basic cable at home so staying in a hotel lets me find out what all I'm missing out on with Extended cable. I started watching Discovery Health when I got in from dinner one night and decided I might be a doula- you know, be the cheering section for women giving birth. Then I watched a little longer and decided I might be a doula in prison (not me actually be a doula prisoner- just a doula that visits the prisoners)- there's even shows about that. I contacted my friend SUMMER (she wants a mention in this blog apparently) to see if she'd go ahead and have another baby so I could try out this doula thing before I move on to the prison system. Since I have lots of stipulations on what I find creepy during childbirth, ie any position besides lying on one's back, the birthing mommy not maintaining a certain dress code during the birth, any birthing in water ( I can barely pull the plug out of my kitchen sink without gagging at the weird floating things in the water, I can only imagine having a baby in water- um, yuck), and since Summer thinks ropes are somehow involved in the birthing process, I've about decided I might give up my doula-ing plans. Also there's the part where I've had two C-sections and really don't know what all goes on with that whole birthing thing might also set me back. I know she'll be disappointed, but maybe Summer will still be my friend. I did mention her in this blog after all.
On TV, I also found out that Guy what's-his-name eats a lot of ribs/BBQ on that Drive-In/Dives show, and they're always the best he's ever had. Just once, I'd love for the local chef people to go through showing him all their big secrets, fix him up a big plate of their specialty, the camera zoom in on him taking one of his huge bites and for him to yell, "Oh my gosh, this is horrible! I wouldn't feed this junk to my dog!" Admit it. It would tickle you too. Or send him to Ridgewood Barbecue where they wouldn't care who he was, he'd wait outside with everybody else, and they'd be doing him the favor if they did let him in to eat their food.
When traveling, I also find I'm not near businessy enough, but lucky for me, I have a travel buddy with me sometimes, and she's not either. It's my friend Jen-nae, and we're just like peas and carrots. Now we do a good job for our company, we just can't help it if we happen to have lots of fun doing it. We can't help it if our offices sometimes have lots of pictures of squirrels in them. Or if they have "Most Wanted" posters around with Jen-nae's face on them. We can't help it if we might roll Oregano joints. We can't help it if we research things like what the sign means in front of the dirty store (it only took one phone call to the Intimate Treasures worker, and she told just what we needed to know....and maybe a little more.) We can't help it, and we just keep hoping our boss understands that. It's just a problem we have.
We've also gone on several "business" trips together that go about like our office time. We got stuck at a mall in Dallas and the hotel driver refused to come get us during a snowstorm one time. Did you know it never snows in Dallas...until we get there? We've gone to eat in Nashville while on one of our trips to find ourselves at a restaurant with the biggest bunch of crazies dancing that we've ever seen. I'm pretty sure one guy was Rumpelstiltskin, and he kept trying to get my pal to dance with him and his cane. I did get video of him with my phone until he started toward me, and I got scared he was going to beat me with that cane. We quickly retreated to the bathroom where Bon Qui Qui and her sidekick were the bathroom hostesses. We don't actually think anyone asked them to be, they just decided to set up their Tussy deodorant, 30 year old, crusty bottles of half used Avon lotion and AquaNet to try and make a buck or two on tips. We certainly didn't partake in any of their toiletries/ beauty aids but were scared, so we tipped them anyway- "Here ya go, Mam. We don't care for any of your moldy roll-on, but we would like to leave with our lives. Thanks so much and have a great night." So after relaying just a very, very few, tip of the iceberg stories of our business, I guess I'll just leave the guys on the airplane alone, but if you ask me, they need to buy an exercise ball and lighten up a little.
So, I'm glad to be home. Extended Cable would be fun, but all those career changes I would have would just be exhausting, and some of those prisoners are down right scary. I like traveling, but I like coming home. I know I could have chosen a few things differently and really climbed career ladders that would have made me much more businessy like those other folks on the plane, but I like being home to raise my kids and frankly, I like working hard at my job but having some fun while I do it. My sidekick/partner in crime has a birthday this week. I'm lucky to call her coworker and very blessed to call her friend. Happy Birthday, Jenay-nay. We're like peas and carrots. But now it's time to head, I've got clothes to put in the dryer.
I will give one more shout out to my namesake nephew who turns 13 today. He's a great kid, and I love him much. I'm glad we share a name whether he is or not.
I used to get a little uptight when I had to travel, but I guess as my kids have gotten older, I've gotten over that some. Once I got on a plane, I was fine. It was just the thought of leaving and some "what ifs". It's weird, but I think my sister-in-law dying has had something to do with my change of attitude as well. One of the worst possible things I can imagine actually happened to my family. Somehow it takes some of the pressure off of the "what ifs" because one of the "what ifs" happened. I'm sure that sounds completely insane to normal people, but if you've read this blog more than three minutes, you know by now that I may not fall into that "normal people" category.
I had some revelations on this trip. First of all, and there is a chance that this one may make me a bit of a bad mother, but lying in a hotel bed watching any stupid show on TV that I want with no laundry to go throw in the dryer during commercials or dishwashers to load isn't such a bad gig on occasion. I love my family dearly, but I figure they can survive fine without me for a couple of nights.
And about those TV shows. I have also found that cable TV has a reality show/documentary type show for about any topic you could imagine. I just have basic cable at home so staying in a hotel lets me find out what all I'm missing out on with Extended cable. I started watching Discovery Health when I got in from dinner one night and decided I might be a doula- you know, be the cheering section for women giving birth. Then I watched a little longer and decided I might be a doula in prison (not me actually be a doula prisoner- just a doula that visits the prisoners)- there's even shows about that. I contacted my friend SUMMER (she wants a mention in this blog apparently) to see if she'd go ahead and have another baby so I could try out this doula thing before I move on to the prison system. Since I have lots of stipulations on what I find creepy during childbirth, ie any position besides lying on one's back, the birthing mommy not maintaining a certain dress code during the birth, any birthing in water ( I can barely pull the plug out of my kitchen sink without gagging at the weird floating things in the water, I can only imagine having a baby in water- um, yuck), and since Summer thinks ropes are somehow involved in the birthing process, I've about decided I might give up my doula-ing plans. Also there's the part where I've had two C-sections and really don't know what all goes on with that whole birthing thing might also set me back. I know she'll be disappointed, but maybe Summer will still be my friend. I did mention her in this blog after all.
On TV, I also found out that Guy what's-his-name eats a lot of ribs/BBQ on that Drive-In/Dives show, and they're always the best he's ever had. Just once, I'd love for the local chef people to go through showing him all their big secrets, fix him up a big plate of their specialty, the camera zoom in on him taking one of his huge bites and for him to yell, "Oh my gosh, this is horrible! I wouldn't feed this junk to my dog!" Admit it. It would tickle you too. Or send him to Ridgewood Barbecue where they wouldn't care who he was, he'd wait outside with everybody else, and they'd be doing him the favor if they did let him in to eat their food.
When traveling, I also find I'm not near businessy enough, but lucky for me, I have a travel buddy with me sometimes, and she's not either. It's my friend Jen-nae, and we're just like peas and carrots. Now we do a good job for our company, we just can't help it if we happen to have lots of fun doing it. We can't help it if our offices sometimes have lots of pictures of squirrels in them. Or if they have "Most Wanted" posters around with Jen-nae's face on them. We can't help it if we might roll Oregano joints. We can't help it if we research things like what the sign means in front of the dirty store (it only took one phone call to the Intimate Treasures worker, and she told just what we needed to know....and maybe a little more.) We can't help it, and we just keep hoping our boss understands that. It's just a problem we have.
We've also gone on several "business" trips together that go about like our office time. We got stuck at a mall in Dallas and the hotel driver refused to come get us during a snowstorm one time. Did you know it never snows in Dallas...until we get there? We've gone to eat in Nashville while on one of our trips to find ourselves at a restaurant with the biggest bunch of crazies dancing that we've ever seen. I'm pretty sure one guy was Rumpelstiltskin, and he kept trying to get my pal to dance with him and his cane. I did get video of him with my phone until he started toward me, and I got scared he was going to beat me with that cane. We quickly retreated to the bathroom where Bon Qui Qui and her sidekick were the bathroom hostesses. We don't actually think anyone asked them to be, they just decided to set up their Tussy deodorant, 30 year old, crusty bottles of half used Avon lotion and AquaNet to try and make a buck or two on tips. We certainly didn't partake in any of their toiletries/ beauty aids but were scared, so we tipped them anyway- "Here ya go, Mam. We don't care for any of your moldy roll-on, but we would like to leave with our lives. Thanks so much and have a great night." So after relaying just a very, very few, tip of the iceberg stories of our business, I guess I'll just leave the guys on the airplane alone, but if you ask me, they need to buy an exercise ball and lighten up a little.
So, I'm glad to be home. Extended Cable would be fun, but all those career changes I would have would just be exhausting, and some of those prisoners are down right scary. I like traveling, but I like coming home. I know I could have chosen a few things differently and really climbed career ladders that would have made me much more businessy like those other folks on the plane, but I like being home to raise my kids and frankly, I like working hard at my job but having some fun while I do it. My sidekick/partner in crime has a birthday this week. I'm lucky to call her coworker and very blessed to call her friend. Happy Birthday, Jenay-nay. We're like peas and carrots. But now it's time to head, I've got clothes to put in the dryer.
I will give one more shout out to my namesake nephew who turns 13 today. He's a great kid, and I love him much. I'm glad we share a name whether he is or not.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
You Make Me Happy When Skies are Gray
My mom has stated on many occasions that she always feels sorry for the big brother/big sister when a new baby comes. They have to share the attention, etc. Mom and I have differing opinions on occasion, and this happens to be one of those occasions. In most cases, it is the second baby I feel bad for because in most cases, that first one is a tough act to follow. This was the case in our house.
Number One had been around for five years when Number Two was born. His spot was well established. He was our first child, the hubby's parents' first grandchild, his sister's first niece/nephew and was center of attention with my parents a lot of the time. Number One was not an easily entertained baby that grinned at the drop of a hat at anyone passing. He was a tough sell. One of my favorite lines from the movie Tombstone was said about Wyatt Earp by his brother, Virgil, "Mama always doted on the frowner." I've said that about Number One on many occasions. Oddly, this feature made him very endearing and a very popular member of our church. And he was adorable. That's just how it was. It was agreed upon by many, and not just his biased family, that he was an absolutely beautiful baby. Announcement of our pregnancy with him was celebrated and rejoiced over and huge, huge news. All this to say, Number One was something, and all of us thought it.
It was tough to get pregnant with Number Two and required the help of some fertility drugs. When it was confirmed I was pregnant, I was cautiously happy but scared to be thrilled. I didn't tell the hubby within ten minutes like I did the first time. I waited a few days until I had further blood tests to make sure all my hormone levels were rising like they were supposed to. I waited even longer to tell our families until I had an ultrasound and could see his little spine and a flicker of heartbeat. With Number One, we told the same night I did the pregnancy test. It was just an entirely different situation.
When we told that I was expecting again, everyone was happy, of course. My family is just not normal over babies. We love them...all of them, ours, yours, theirs. We are not normal over babies, so they were tickled but a little surprised. They weren't so sure if we were having more or not. The hubby's family was happy too. It was just different from the first time. I've talked to friends. It's just how it is, and they've felt the same way about their not first pregnancies. But it worried me a little for the little one inside me. I was worried he/she was getting gypped.
He was born and didn't have quite the crowd at the hospital that Number One did, mainly because Number Two was a scheduled C-section and was born at the crack of dawn. Of course, Number One had an insane amount of people there, so it really wasn't fair to compare. He didn't look like his brother and ended up have really bad jaundice and had to be in the bili blanket. He just had a whole different start.
I say all this to say, at the beginning of his little life, I kind of thought that Number Two got a little gypped, and it made me feel bad. But I quickly learned something about number two kids, at least my Number Two. Well, to be honest, I've seen it in a lot of number two kids. God makes them a lot different from number one and from what I've seen, usually a little crazy. I think He does that so they establish their own spot in our families.
I found out in a hurry that our Number Two was God's gift TO ME. My hubby, the Original Frowner, and his identical twin firstborn, Frowner Junior, spent a lot of their days frowning at me. I do some weird stuff, talk to random people and can have some off the wall ideas of what I think would constitute some fun. Not only did they usually not buy in, they usually stood side by side and frowned, and they frowned at me. But Number Two came into this world gung-ho. He was a ball of fun just looking for a good time. He had his Grandma's name, and he looked bizarrely like my dad. Grandpa was A-OK with that.
As a baby, not even a year old, he was a performer. If it would make people laugh, he'd do it gladly again and again then laugh with them. We spent lots of time in the middle of our Fellowship Hall at church doing the routine. "Are you scared?" "Are you excited?" Multiple acts for an admiring crowd. He'd do the faces and motions that went with the questions. He got a little older and some of the youth would have him saying all kinds of crazy stuff. He was the baby of my family. His cousins loved him and squeezed on him, and he and his brother were each others biggest fans. He was something else.
As he got older, he got crazier and funnier. His Mimama has stated on many occasions that "he is crazy" while laughing her head off and looking at me. I'm not sure where she thinks he gets it. His granddaddy just sits and looks at him a little perplexed on a regular basis but very, very amused.
He tended to and still tends to make a scene unintentionally a lot of the time, namely whenever there is a crowd pointed his direction for any reason. He has announced during the children's message that he, "Wikes his shoes" to Brother Bob while he was trying to tell them the plan of salvation. He's announced that to be free means to "Not be in jail" during the children's message on Memorial Day. To yell, "This show stinks, I wanna go to my class" during the very reverent Christmas Eve service when he was 3 didn't bother him at all. Posing like a statue from Night At the Museum on the front row of a program for VBS instead of doing the actual motions that went with the little songs seems like a good idea to him. Well, to him and apparently our friend, Ben.
This Number Two kid is creative too- not only in his crazy ideas but artistically as well. His ability to draw and love of it has amazed us all for years now. He spent his fourth year of life literally drawing almost everything that happened to him and drawing it well. When the hubby's Montero wouldn't go up the hill to my mom's in the snow one morning, Number Two drew it. The list goes on and on. I've saved the drawings because it honestly sort of journals his life. Sometimes, the drawings are inventions he's thought up. Truly, he has some talent. He can also make almost anything out of a Trio block which is sort of like a Lego. Rockets, boats, cannons, guns, guns, guns of all sorts. Even his brother who is five years older will say, "Mom, did you see what he made?" He can't even believe it sometimes. One of the biggest fits he's ever thrown was when I picked him up early from school one day last year to take them to Dollywood. He was ticked because he had just gotten into art class, and now he had to miss it. Evil Mommy- taking him to Dollywood.
He knows some Bible stories too- lots of them. Sometimes we're not so sure he's listening, but then he'll tell us something out of the blue that makes us know differently. One morning, he sat up in bed and said, "I had the weirdest dream last night. There were 7 fat cows and 7 skinny cows and the skinny cows started eating the fat cows..." Um, either he listened well in Sunday School or he is a Pharaoh. We're not sure. My sister swears he'll be a crazy youth director some day because he has wild ideas and knows a lot of Bible. That is the ultimate youth director combination.
So do I think number two kids get gypped when they're born? Maybe a little. I think it's just how things are. It may just take a little longer to establish their spot with that first one always flipping and flopping around. But here's one thing for sure, once that number two kid gets going, there is no stopping them, at least at my house. Our first grader makes us laugh every single day. He's the first to jump at any suggestion of anything that might be remotely fun or usually even if it might not. He still wants to love on his mama lots and likes to be laid down with at night to snuggle. He can certainly battle with his brother now but spends a whole lot of the time belly laughing at all their crazy antics. We're not sure he's ever going to get top teeth back in which we notice lots since he's grinning about half the time. Both of my kids are the light of my life, but I guess if I had to sum it up, it would go like this. Number One came into this world and brought pride and jubilation. Number Two came into this world and brought love and laughter and fun. And nothing makes me happier than getting to be their mom.
Number One had been around for five years when Number Two was born. His spot was well established. He was our first child, the hubby's parents' first grandchild, his sister's first niece/nephew and was center of attention with my parents a lot of the time. Number One was not an easily entertained baby that grinned at the drop of a hat at anyone passing. He was a tough sell. One of my favorite lines from the movie Tombstone was said about Wyatt Earp by his brother, Virgil, "Mama always doted on the frowner." I've said that about Number One on many occasions. Oddly, this feature made him very endearing and a very popular member of our church. And he was adorable. That's just how it was. It was agreed upon by many, and not just his biased family, that he was an absolutely beautiful baby. Announcement of our pregnancy with him was celebrated and rejoiced over and huge, huge news. All this to say, Number One was something, and all of us thought it.
It was tough to get pregnant with Number Two and required the help of some fertility drugs. When it was confirmed I was pregnant, I was cautiously happy but scared to be thrilled. I didn't tell the hubby within ten minutes like I did the first time. I waited a few days until I had further blood tests to make sure all my hormone levels were rising like they were supposed to. I waited even longer to tell our families until I had an ultrasound and could see his little spine and a flicker of heartbeat. With Number One, we told the same night I did the pregnancy test. It was just an entirely different situation.
When we told that I was expecting again, everyone was happy, of course. My family is just not normal over babies. We love them...all of them, ours, yours, theirs. We are not normal over babies, so they were tickled but a little surprised. They weren't so sure if we were having more or not. The hubby's family was happy too. It was just different from the first time. I've talked to friends. It's just how it is, and they've felt the same way about their not first pregnancies. But it worried me a little for the little one inside me. I was worried he/she was getting gypped.
He was born and didn't have quite the crowd at the hospital that Number One did, mainly because Number Two was a scheduled C-section and was born at the crack of dawn. Of course, Number One had an insane amount of people there, so it really wasn't fair to compare. He didn't look like his brother and ended up have really bad jaundice and had to be in the bili blanket. He just had a whole different start.
I say all this to say, at the beginning of his little life, I kind of thought that Number Two got a little gypped, and it made me feel bad. But I quickly learned something about number two kids, at least my Number Two. Well, to be honest, I've seen it in a lot of number two kids. God makes them a lot different from number one and from what I've seen, usually a little crazy. I think He does that so they establish their own spot in our families.
I found out in a hurry that our Number Two was God's gift TO ME. My hubby, the Original Frowner, and his identical twin firstborn, Frowner Junior, spent a lot of their days frowning at me. I do some weird stuff, talk to random people and can have some off the wall ideas of what I think would constitute some fun. Not only did they usually not buy in, they usually stood side by side and frowned, and they frowned at me. But Number Two came into this world gung-ho. He was a ball of fun just looking for a good time. He had his Grandma's name, and he looked bizarrely like my dad. Grandpa was A-OK with that.
As a baby, not even a year old, he was a performer. If it would make people laugh, he'd do it gladly again and again then laugh with them. We spent lots of time in the middle of our Fellowship Hall at church doing the routine. "Are you scared?" "Are you excited?" Multiple acts for an admiring crowd. He'd do the faces and motions that went with the questions. He got a little older and some of the youth would have him saying all kinds of crazy stuff. He was the baby of my family. His cousins loved him and squeezed on him, and he and his brother were each others biggest fans. He was something else.
As he got older, he got crazier and funnier. His Mimama has stated on many occasions that "he is crazy" while laughing her head off and looking at me. I'm not sure where she thinks he gets it. His granddaddy just sits and looks at him a little perplexed on a regular basis but very, very amused.
He tended to and still tends to make a scene unintentionally a lot of the time, namely whenever there is a crowd pointed his direction for any reason. He has announced during the children's message that he, "Wikes his shoes" to Brother Bob while he was trying to tell them the plan of salvation. He's announced that to be free means to "Not be in jail" during the children's message on Memorial Day. To yell, "This show stinks, I wanna go to my class" during the very reverent Christmas Eve service when he was 3 didn't bother him at all. Posing like a statue from Night At the Museum on the front row of a program for VBS instead of doing the actual motions that went with the little songs seems like a good idea to him. Well, to him and apparently our friend, Ben.
This Number Two kid is creative too- not only in his crazy ideas but artistically as well. His ability to draw and love of it has amazed us all for years now. He spent his fourth year of life literally drawing almost everything that happened to him and drawing it well. When the hubby's Montero wouldn't go up the hill to my mom's in the snow one morning, Number Two drew it. The list goes on and on. I've saved the drawings because it honestly sort of journals his life. Sometimes, the drawings are inventions he's thought up. Truly, he has some talent. He can also make almost anything out of a Trio block which is sort of like a Lego. Rockets, boats, cannons, guns, guns, guns of all sorts. Even his brother who is five years older will say, "Mom, did you see what he made?" He can't even believe it sometimes. One of the biggest fits he's ever thrown was when I picked him up early from school one day last year to take them to Dollywood. He was ticked because he had just gotten into art class, and now he had to miss it. Evil Mommy- taking him to Dollywood.
He knows some Bible stories too- lots of them. Sometimes we're not so sure he's listening, but then he'll tell us something out of the blue that makes us know differently. One morning, he sat up in bed and said, "I had the weirdest dream last night. There were 7 fat cows and 7 skinny cows and the skinny cows started eating the fat cows..." Um, either he listened well in Sunday School or he is a Pharaoh. We're not sure. My sister swears he'll be a crazy youth director some day because he has wild ideas and knows a lot of Bible. That is the ultimate youth director combination.
So do I think number two kids get gypped when they're born? Maybe a little. I think it's just how things are. It may just take a little longer to establish their spot with that first one always flipping and flopping around. But here's one thing for sure, once that number two kid gets going, there is no stopping them, at least at my house. Our first grader makes us laugh every single day. He's the first to jump at any suggestion of anything that might be remotely fun or usually even if it might not. He still wants to love on his mama lots and likes to be laid down with at night to snuggle. He can certainly battle with his brother now but spends a whole lot of the time belly laughing at all their crazy antics. We're not sure he's ever going to get top teeth back in which we notice lots since he's grinning about half the time. Both of my kids are the light of my life, but I guess if I had to sum it up, it would go like this. Number One came into this world and brought pride and jubilation. Number Two came into this world and brought love and laughter and fun. And nothing makes me happier than getting to be their mom.
DISCLAIMER: I think the term "gypped" is politically incorrect referring to gypsies. There are two things here. I never claimed to be politically correct and I know no gypsies, so I decided I would leave it in. If I ever run for president, you may use it against me at that time.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
I Tipped My Urologist Because I Can't Pulverize My Own Kidney Stones
March, 2012- I borrowed this blog title from Dwight Schrute because I laughed out loud when he said it. Another reason is that it instantly made me think about my dad, husband and now 6th grader who would all tip their urologist too if he could get rid of their kidney stones quickly when they have them. I've never had a kidney stone but have seen those with them and don't care to join that club- you can keep my patch. It is a club, you know. My niece has now had a kidney stone or two, my brother-in-law has had just one, but it passed quickly, so he feels guilty complaining too much and just recently, my brother made an ER visit with his first one. Each time a new victim is mentioned, all the others who have walked that road before have the same expression and sound. It's a slight head turn with a wince and a muffled , "OOOO!" Every reaction, the same. Just the mere mention of the words "kidney stone" congers up instant memories of their own experience and excruciating pain with the tiny urinary beast.
The hubby had his first kidney stone the first year we were married. I woke up one morning and started getting ready for work. He was wandering around the house, I thought getting ready for work too. I finally noticed him doing a weird pacing thing and actually stopped to look at him. He was gray. Not his hair, he hadn't been married to me that long yet. I mean his face. And not just a little gray, but like going to pass out, no color in his lips gray. After much pondering (well OK, his mom and I pondered, he was just trying not to pass out), we decided an ER visit was in order.
Now here's a little tidbit that most people who know me might not believe. When I get nervous, I talk more than I usually do. I know, I know. You didn't think that was possible. Ha Ha Ha- you all are so funny. Now here's another little tidbit, and this one presented a problem. When my new hubby is lying in a hospital bed, very gray, rolling back and forth in pain, I get nervous. Now here's where the problem part of this comes in. A new hubby writhing in pain, and a nervous wife jabbering incessantly are a bad combination. You know what happens when you put those two things together? A normally nice, loving hubby might just pull himself up by the bed rails of his hospital bed, glare like some sort of creature from a horror flick at his still chattering wife and say, "Could you possibly shut up for a few minutes?" Oh no, he didn't?!?!? Oh yes, he did. Until that point, he had never said that to me and has never said it since, and oddly enough, he has so had reason to on more than one occasion. Again, I bet you can't believe that.
Now one would think that a new bride might realize the desperate situation her beloved was in and not really hold it against him that he was somewhat less than loving and pleasant at that moment. But that isn't necessarily always the case. Sometimes a young bride might think, "Well, you butthead. I hope that....." but then she can just stop thinking because in comes Jimmy. "What is Jimmy?" you might ask. Jimmy is a guy I like to call Kelly's revenge.
Jimmy was a nice looking flight nurse in a logo'd polo shirt and a pressed pair of khakis. However, Jimmy's clothing was not nearly as important as the white box he held in his hand. I knew what device of torture was housed in that box as soon as I saw it. All grumpy thoughts about my husband were washed away when Jimmy opened his box, and I saw a very large (actually confusingly large) catheter rolled neatly in the box. Oh my. Now I want to keep my G rating here, but I just have to say, I pondered on the size of that large catheter and had other size ponderings and well, things just didn't add up. I don't really know what all happened next because I quickly volunteered to wait in the hall. Lets review what happens when I'm nervous- I talk more, and lets review the size of that catheter- oddly large, and lets review the state that my husband was in and was about to be the recipient of this medical hose- in pain, lots and lots of pain. Well, you can only imagine how this already bad situation was going to get worse. Much worse. My marriage surviving one year was dependent on my getting into that hall and fast! I got into the hall and fast.
When it was all said and done, the hubby was diagnosed with a kidney stone, given heavy duty drugs and sent packing from his very expensive ER visit. As we walked out of the Emergency Room, I didn't dare ask what all happened in that room while I was in the hall. We were crossing the parking lot when the hubby finally spoke. Groggily, he sadly stated, "He never calls. He never writes." I was very confused and trying to understand my pitiful spouse. "What, Honey?" "Jimmy," he said, "After all we went through. He doesn't call. He doesn't write. I just feel so used." Now after all he'd been through, and all they had tried to drain out of him and as much as it cost, it seems only right that maybe they could have drained a little of the dork out of him, but apparently not.
So why in the world would I tell this story. I have absolutely no idea. But once again, I do have to give a shout out to God's timing because no matter the crazy situation, His timing is still in play. I say this because it was a little over a year later that the situation was reversed. I was lying in a hospital bed, rolling back and forth in some pain with the threat of strange objects being put in strange places, but in my case, it was in an effort to get out a 10 pound 8 oz baby instead of a tiny kidney stone (and yes, mentioning the size of a baby as compared to the size of a kidney stone is on purpose and a dig I make regularly to the hubby). My spouse doesn't get nervous and chattery but has a habit that is far worse and is with him always not just in stressful situations. He is typically in a constant state of cute. You know, cute in his own mind- cute comments and cute stand-up routines, even at the worst possible times, say for instance when his wife is trying to get his huge kid out of her laboring body. The scene was a little deja vue. I grabbed hold of the bed rails of my hospital bed, pulled myself up, glared at him, but instead of being as rude as he was during his dilemma, I simply said, "Do you remember the kidney stone and the ER?" That's all it took. "I'll shut up now, " he said part understandingly and partly just scared. I laid back down relieved to have made my point and now I could try and get some rest.... and then Dr. Samuel walked in with a white box in his hand.
The hubby had his first kidney stone the first year we were married. I woke up one morning and started getting ready for work. He was wandering around the house, I thought getting ready for work too. I finally noticed him doing a weird pacing thing and actually stopped to look at him. He was gray. Not his hair, he hadn't been married to me that long yet. I mean his face. And not just a little gray, but like going to pass out, no color in his lips gray. After much pondering (well OK, his mom and I pondered, he was just trying not to pass out), we decided an ER visit was in order.
Now here's a little tidbit that most people who know me might not believe. When I get nervous, I talk more than I usually do. I know, I know. You didn't think that was possible. Ha Ha Ha- you all are so funny. Now here's another little tidbit, and this one presented a problem. When my new hubby is lying in a hospital bed, very gray, rolling back and forth in pain, I get nervous. Now here's where the problem part of this comes in. A new hubby writhing in pain, and a nervous wife jabbering incessantly are a bad combination. You know what happens when you put those two things together? A normally nice, loving hubby might just pull himself up by the bed rails of his hospital bed, glare like some sort of creature from a horror flick at his still chattering wife and say, "Could you possibly shut up for a few minutes?" Oh no, he didn't?!?!? Oh yes, he did. Until that point, he had never said that to me and has never said it since, and oddly enough, he has so had reason to on more than one occasion. Again, I bet you can't believe that.
Now one would think that a new bride might realize the desperate situation her beloved was in and not really hold it against him that he was somewhat less than loving and pleasant at that moment. But that isn't necessarily always the case. Sometimes a young bride might think, "Well, you butthead. I hope that....." but then she can just stop thinking because in comes Jimmy. "What is Jimmy?" you might ask. Jimmy is a guy I like to call Kelly's revenge.
Jimmy was a nice looking flight nurse in a logo'd polo shirt and a pressed pair of khakis. However, Jimmy's clothing was not nearly as important as the white box he held in his hand. I knew what device of torture was housed in that box as soon as I saw it. All grumpy thoughts about my husband were washed away when Jimmy opened his box, and I saw a very large (actually confusingly large) catheter rolled neatly in the box. Oh my. Now I want to keep my G rating here, but I just have to say, I pondered on the size of that large catheter and had other size ponderings and well, things just didn't add up. I don't really know what all happened next because I quickly volunteered to wait in the hall. Lets review what happens when I'm nervous- I talk more, and lets review the size of that catheter- oddly large, and lets review the state that my husband was in and was about to be the recipient of this medical hose- in pain, lots and lots of pain. Well, you can only imagine how this already bad situation was going to get worse. Much worse. My marriage surviving one year was dependent on my getting into that hall and fast! I got into the hall and fast.
When it was all said and done, the hubby was diagnosed with a kidney stone, given heavy duty drugs and sent packing from his very expensive ER visit. As we walked out of the Emergency Room, I didn't dare ask what all happened in that room while I was in the hall. We were crossing the parking lot when the hubby finally spoke. Groggily, he sadly stated, "He never calls. He never writes." I was very confused and trying to understand my pitiful spouse. "What, Honey?" "Jimmy," he said, "After all we went through. He doesn't call. He doesn't write. I just feel so used." Now after all he'd been through, and all they had tried to drain out of him and as much as it cost, it seems only right that maybe they could have drained a little of the dork out of him, but apparently not.
So why in the world would I tell this story. I have absolutely no idea. But once again, I do have to give a shout out to God's timing because no matter the crazy situation, His timing is still in play. I say this because it was a little over a year later that the situation was reversed. I was lying in a hospital bed, rolling back and forth in some pain with the threat of strange objects being put in strange places, but in my case, it was in an effort to get out a 10 pound 8 oz baby instead of a tiny kidney stone (and yes, mentioning the size of a baby as compared to the size of a kidney stone is on purpose and a dig I make regularly to the hubby). My spouse doesn't get nervous and chattery but has a habit that is far worse and is with him always not just in stressful situations. He is typically in a constant state of cute. You know, cute in his own mind- cute comments and cute stand-up routines, even at the worst possible times, say for instance when his wife is trying to get his huge kid out of her laboring body. The scene was a little deja vue. I grabbed hold of the bed rails of my hospital bed, pulled myself up, glared at him, but instead of being as rude as he was during his dilemma, I simply said, "Do you remember the kidney stone and the ER?" That's all it took. "I'll shut up now, " he said part understandingly and partly just scared. I laid back down relieved to have made my point and now I could try and get some rest.... and then Dr. Samuel walked in with a white box in his hand.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
I'll Blog You!
Like most moms probably do, I worry about how I am as a parent. I yell way too much, have way less patience than I should, and have a whole lot of nights where I pray that God just let them turn out OK in spite of me and my very, very lacking abilities to be the mom that I should. And then there are the threats. I have lots of threats, but turns out, I've got threatener in my genes. My mother was the best threatener I've ever known. Looking back, I really have no clue what a whole lot of the threats meant but heeded to them all the same. I've recently pondered on the threats we received as children and thought it only right that I share.
The threat that stands out in my mind the most was the ever popular, "I'm gonna beat the daylights out of you." Now I think having the daylights beaten out of you would really hurt, but to be honest, I'm 39 years old and still have no idea what the daylights are. Usually this threat came after we did things like put a rubberband around the kitchen sink hose trigger and pointed it toward the center of the sink where a random sink turner onner might stand, ie my mom. It would be about the time she flipped the faucet knob and her glasses were dripping water and her hair was wet in the front that we'd hear echoed through the halls of our house, "I AM GOING TO BEAT THE DAYLIGHTS OUT OF YOU ALL!!!" Now this one comes to mind because just yesterday, the 6th grader played the exact same trick on his mother yet again. About the time the water hit my face, I found myself screaming, you guessed it, "I AM GOING TO BEAT THE DAYLIGHTS OUT OF YOU!!!" As a side bar, I would like to mention here and now that it was this same woman that threw out these threats so freely when I was a child that taught my son the rubberband around the sink trick. Not cool, Mom. Not cool.
Next up on the Favorite Threats Top 10, "I'm gonna choke your goozle out." Where, oh where, is one's goozle? Hopefully, it is like your appendix or tonsils- if she ever really chokes it out, we wouldn't really need it anyway. I hope my children don't need theirs either because one more time of finding them building the entire NASA fleet of space shuttles or an arsenal of guns out of Trio blocks instead of putting their shoes on after the twelfth time of telling them, there is a chance I might "choke their goozle out" because I too make that same threat. "Son, I am gonna choke your goozle out if I tell you one more time!" And like generations before him, he looks at me confused, I'm sure wondering where his goozle is and if he needs it. He puts the blocks to the side and puts on at least one of his shoes until he's once again distracted by the thoughts of a new Trio invention because although he's not so sure about the goozle thing, he's not willing to take any chances, just like his mother before him.
Then there is the universal threat. Now I've discussed this threat with some friends about my age and sure enough, their mamas knew the universal threat too. It went something like this.
Me (yelling at my mom while she's cleaning just spilt, sticky grape Kool-Aid from the bottom of the refrigerator)- "I want some more Kool-Aid."
Mom: "I'll Kool-Aid you!"
or
Me (yelling at mom after she's been locked in a house with all of us while my dad worked)- "MOOOOM, Joey threw a shoe at me!"
Mom- "I'll shoe you!"
Did it have to make sense? Nope. Were we ever brave enough to say that it didn't make sense? Nope. Am I impressed that she could customize this threat to any object living or non? Pretty much. After being told the Sixth grader left his Social Studies book at school and needs to do homework have I said, "I'll Social Studies book you!"? Well, no comment. All I can figure about this threat is that the kids finally get to be so much that mamas just start spewing random craziness.
Now some might think, my goodness, poor girl, she had a really mean mom. Those some would be very wrong. I had a merciful mother with much self-control. I'll tell you why. I have one sister and one brother. As far as I know, all three of us still have our daylights and goozles, and none of us deserve to still have them. None of us have ever been "'Kool-Aided" just as my son did not get "Social Studied booked". Here's the kicker. I remember many, many occasions when we so deserved all of these things. We were annoying, and lots of the time really, really annoying (especially my brother, just sayin'). I guess that was an early lesson in grace from my mom. What we deserved was the daylights beaten out of us and our goozles choked out, but she did not give us what we deserved. My husband did however get shoed once, but that's a whole different blog.
Dr. Phil and Jame Dobson and Dr. Spock all have varying opinions on threats and punishments and parenting. I don't know what all they think. I'm assuming they would think my mom (and dad but this is about her for the moment) did not do perfect parenting like they would think about any of us. I know Mom will tell me now that she did too much this or not enough that like most of us moms think about our momming. But here's the thing, for all the parenting Mom did or didn't do by the books, my siblings and I sort of turned out OK. Are we perfect? Give me a minute here. HAHAHAHAHA!!! Ok, I'm better. We are certainly, certainly, certainly not perfect. I could tell you a lot of stories about that, but that would be another blog and probably one I should just skip writing for the sake of healthy sibling relationships. But there a few things the three of us are. First and foremost, we are all three Christians. We all three married Christians. And we are all three raising our own children in Christian homes. Are we doing it perfectly? Absolutely not. We love our spouses and have stayed with them, in some cases when the vows we made, for better or worse, in sickness and health, have been put to the test,. Our mom and dad have over 47 years in together. Coincidence? I think not. We all three love our parents and have respect for them and value their opinion. And none of us have been in therapy....even after our goozles and daylights have been threatened multiple times.
So do I ever think I'll see Dr. Phil have a show on healthy threatening? Probably not. Will Dobson ever have a chapter in Bringing Up Boys on How to Effectively Remove Their Goozles? I'm going to have to go with a no on that one. Did it work for us? Well, we're not great, but to be honest, we're not doing too bad. Do I think my mom could give Dobson and Phil and Spock (although I think he may be dead)some advise on a chapter or two? Absolutely.
So I hope when my boys look back and think about things, the crazy makes them giggle like it does me. I hope they know how much their mama loves them even when patience isn't always her virtue just like I know my mom has always loved her kids and frankly, I hope at least one once or twice, they throw out some empty, non-sense making threats. I'd hate to end such a fun family tradition now.
The threat that stands out in my mind the most was the ever popular, "I'm gonna beat the daylights out of you." Now I think having the daylights beaten out of you would really hurt, but to be honest, I'm 39 years old and still have no idea what the daylights are. Usually this threat came after we did things like put a rubberband around the kitchen sink hose trigger and pointed it toward the center of the sink where a random sink turner onner might stand, ie my mom. It would be about the time she flipped the faucet knob and her glasses were dripping water and her hair was wet in the front that we'd hear echoed through the halls of our house, "I AM GOING TO BEAT THE DAYLIGHTS OUT OF YOU ALL!!!" Now this one comes to mind because just yesterday, the 6th grader played the exact same trick on his mother yet again. About the time the water hit my face, I found myself screaming, you guessed it, "I AM GOING TO BEAT THE DAYLIGHTS OUT OF YOU!!!" As a side bar, I would like to mention here and now that it was this same woman that threw out these threats so freely when I was a child that taught my son the rubberband around the sink trick. Not cool, Mom. Not cool.
Next up on the Favorite Threats Top 10, "I'm gonna choke your goozle out." Where, oh where, is one's goozle? Hopefully, it is like your appendix or tonsils- if she ever really chokes it out, we wouldn't really need it anyway. I hope my children don't need theirs either because one more time of finding them building the entire NASA fleet of space shuttles or an arsenal of guns out of Trio blocks instead of putting their shoes on after the twelfth time of telling them, there is a chance I might "choke their goozle out" because I too make that same threat. "Son, I am gonna choke your goozle out if I tell you one more time!" And like generations before him, he looks at me confused, I'm sure wondering where his goozle is and if he needs it. He puts the blocks to the side and puts on at least one of his shoes until he's once again distracted by the thoughts of a new Trio invention because although he's not so sure about the goozle thing, he's not willing to take any chances, just like his mother before him.
Then there is the universal threat. Now I've discussed this threat with some friends about my age and sure enough, their mamas knew the universal threat too. It went something like this.
Me (yelling at my mom while she's cleaning just spilt, sticky grape Kool-Aid from the bottom of the refrigerator)- "I want some more Kool-Aid."
Mom: "I'll Kool-Aid you!"
or
Me (yelling at mom after she's been locked in a house with all of us while my dad worked)- "MOOOOM, Joey threw a shoe at me!"
Mom- "I'll shoe you!"
Did it have to make sense? Nope. Were we ever brave enough to say that it didn't make sense? Nope. Am I impressed that she could customize this threat to any object living or non? Pretty much. After being told the Sixth grader left his Social Studies book at school and needs to do homework have I said, "I'll Social Studies book you!"? Well, no comment. All I can figure about this threat is that the kids finally get to be so much that mamas just start spewing random craziness.
Now some might think, my goodness, poor girl, she had a really mean mom. Those some would be very wrong. I had a merciful mother with much self-control. I'll tell you why. I have one sister and one brother. As far as I know, all three of us still have our daylights and goozles, and none of us deserve to still have them. None of us have ever been "'Kool-Aided" just as my son did not get "Social Studied booked". Here's the kicker. I remember many, many occasions when we so deserved all of these things. We were annoying, and lots of the time really, really annoying (especially my brother, just sayin'). I guess that was an early lesson in grace from my mom. What we deserved was the daylights beaten out of us and our goozles choked out, but she did not give us what we deserved. My husband did however get shoed once, but that's a whole different blog.
Dr. Phil and Jame Dobson and Dr. Spock all have varying opinions on threats and punishments and parenting. I don't know what all they think. I'm assuming they would think my mom (and dad but this is about her for the moment) did not do perfect parenting like they would think about any of us. I know Mom will tell me now that she did too much this or not enough that like most of us moms think about our momming. But here's the thing, for all the parenting Mom did or didn't do by the books, my siblings and I sort of turned out OK. Are we perfect? Give me a minute here. HAHAHAHAHA!!! Ok, I'm better. We are certainly, certainly, certainly not perfect. I could tell you a lot of stories about that, but that would be another blog and probably one I should just skip writing for the sake of healthy sibling relationships. But there a few things the three of us are. First and foremost, we are all three Christians. We all three married Christians. And we are all three raising our own children in Christian homes. Are we doing it perfectly? Absolutely not. We love our spouses and have stayed with them, in some cases when the vows we made, for better or worse, in sickness and health, have been put to the test,. Our mom and dad have over 47 years in together. Coincidence? I think not. We all three love our parents and have respect for them and value their opinion. And none of us have been in therapy....even after our goozles and daylights have been threatened multiple times.
So do I ever think I'll see Dr. Phil have a show on healthy threatening? Probably not. Will Dobson ever have a chapter in Bringing Up Boys on How to Effectively Remove Their Goozles? I'm going to have to go with a no on that one. Did it work for us? Well, we're not great, but to be honest, we're not doing too bad. Do I think my mom could give Dobson and Phil and Spock (although I think he may be dead)some advise on a chapter or two? Absolutely.
So I hope when my boys look back and think about things, the crazy makes them giggle like it does me. I hope they know how much their mama loves them even when patience isn't always her virtue just like I know my mom has always loved her kids and frankly, I hope at least one once or twice, they throw out some empty, non-sense making threats. I'd hate to end such a fun family tradition now.
 |
| OH, and Mom, this is for teaching him about the sink |
Sunday, March 4, 2012
You Might Be A Redneck
If you have ever gone on vacation and stayed with your 5 family members in half a trailer (ie a trailer duplex), you might be a redneck. Hmmmm, it would seem I could help Jeff Foxworthy with his next stand-up show. Not only did we go on our mini-vacation to a trailer duplex when I was little, but my dad's entire side of the family went with us. They had their own trailer duplexes, of course. Do you crazy people think we'd all share a trailer duplex? What kind of people do you think we are? Ya wanna know what's funny? It was fun. Wanna know what's funnier? We still do it. If you've known any of my family for more than about five minutes, you probably already know what I'm talking about. Lake Tansi. Ahhh yes, Lake Tansi. How do I even explain what Lake Tansi is to my family? A tradition. A reunion. A gathering. A state of mind. A cult. Hey now, it's not really a cult, although the hubby wasn't so sure on his first visit.
It is a bit debated, but a best guess is that my family has been going to Tansi for about 32 years. As our family has grown, the Tansi crowd has grown because once you're brought into the King family, you're brought into the Tansi family. Come July, you're there- willingly or unwillingly, you are there.
Now, lets discuss Tansi accommodations through the years. It did start in the duplex which was a mile or two drive from the Thunderbird recreation center, which is essentially the hub of all that is Tansi. Over time, I'm not sure if Dad got a raise or how it happened, but we got moved to the cabins by the water and within a rock's throw of the Thunderbird. Whoa. Just whoa. The cabins had been around for a while. They had, ahem, character. To this day, certain features of the cabins are still discussed on a regular basis. I think it only right that each feature have its own section. I'll list them below.
The Screen Door
Every cabin had one, and they all sounded the same way. Loud. Really, really loud. And springless. You know the spring that would slow it down from slamming? Didn't have one. The fact that the door was loud was interesting. The fact that my parents got up at the crack of dawn every morning, we assume to make sure the lake hadn't gone anywhere, and went out the door has always been the main discussion about the door. RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! WHAM!!!! Early. Really, really early. Now through the Tansi years, lots of folks have gone with us, including one of our boyfriends/girlfriends on occasion, therefore it meant someone was usually sleeping on the ungodly pull-out couch in the living next to, you guessed it, the screen door. Looking back, I guess it was a form of Tansi hazing. If you survived it, there was a chance you could get invited back the next year.
The Ducks
There were always LOTS of ducks at Tansi. And Canadian geese. Mean Canadian geese. And guess what drew the many, many pooping and quacking and honking fowl to your cabin's yard? The slamming of the Screen Door. Now lets review at what time the door made its first RRRRRREEEEEEEE!!! WHAM!!! of each day. That's right, you remember. Early. Really, really early. So after the RRRREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! WHAM!!!! came the water fowl ensemble. Just in case you weren't aware, forty birds three feet from you cabin door are loud. Really, really loud. More hazing. Less sleep.
The Bugs
The bugs in the cabin definitely stressed some folks more than others. One of those stressed was my sister-in-law. When she started going to Tansi, she and my brother weren't married yet, so she and I shared a bed. Every night was the same ritual of her yanking the covers all the way back and doing weird shaking of the covers. Buggaphobia. My sister was also not a fan. Due to their wimpiness and lack of Tansi spirit, there were several years my brother's family and my sister's family moved to the condos. We won't be reviewing the condos in this blog because frankly, they go against all that is Tansi.
The Lack of Coolness
I don't mean the cabins weren't cool like the Fonz cool. They weren't cool like sweat dripping, no air conditioner having, can't quite catch your breath causing, laying in a pool of your own liquids sleeping cool. They were hot. Open a window, turn on a fan, they were still hot. After about twenty years, they did put in window unit air conditioners. We agreed that it may not have been totally in the Tansi spirit of things, but we ran them anyway.
There is so very much more that could be said about the old cabins. One year we went, and they all sort of looked tie-dyed. They had scraped them all to paint them but hadn't painted them yet. I don't think the Tansi folks ever realized there is a thing called "the off season" when lots of places do this type of work. Oh well, that year definitely made for some interesting pictures. Notice I said "old" cabins because about three years ago, after building new cabins here and there for a while, all the old cabins were torn down and new "cabins" were put in their place. The new places are completely ridiculous. They have flatscreens and dishwashers and exterminators and doors with springs. My dad is still mildly convinced that they've ruined Tansi
We cannot leave the accommodation topic without the, hands down, most important cabin being mentioned.
Cabin 210...the Zion, the promised land, the Nirvana of Lake Tansi Resort. Everyone wanted it, but none more than my father. It involved plotting and jockeying and setting alarms on January 1st of each year by my father and that was usually to beat out his own sister for it. It took fights and harassment by my Aunt Helen with all members of the Lake Tansi POA, but when it happened, when the stars aligned just right, and the POA actually wrote it down correctly and my family got Cabin 210, well, I'm not sure there was much greater joy for my dad. I've had my phone ring on more than one occasion and answer it to one statement and one statement alone, "We got it." Not jubilant or boastful, just a tone of mission accomplished like a soldier might sound after a hostage rescue within enemy territory. We look at the new cabin where 210 once stood and shake our heads. The loss is still a little too painful but with time, we're hoping it won't hurt so badly.
It is appearing to me that Tansi should probably be a blog series, but I'm on a roll, so why quit now. What is there to do at Lake Tansi for the long weekend every July? I'm glad you asked. I think I'll go back to my devoted sections, in order of importance this time, but before I start, there is one requirement to do any activity. The Activity Bracelet. Several of the bracelets come in the big white envelope when you check-in. Once in the cabin, the bracelets are promptly counted, then for the next 3 days, they are recounted and searched for and yelled about and fingers pointed at who had one last and stressed about in general. Every condo/cabin has there own collection of them. My parents spend most of their trip looking at the kids' arms and saying, "Is that one of ours?" I was never certain what happened if one was lost. Maybe the Tansi POA is made up of the firstborn children of past Tansi visitors who had lost their bracelets and had to pay with their eldest child. All I ever knew was the bracelets were important- really, really important. My hubby loves his activity bracelet. It's the first thing he puts on in the morning and the last thing he takes off at night while at Tansi. A few years ago in the winter, my rebel of a sister said, "Look what I found in my pool bag." She held up a Tansi activity bracelet. Gasps filled the room. The hubby was horrified then immediately took it and hung it on his rear view mirror where it hangs even today. Others have been found here and there over the years once we've gotten home. We keep it quiet and at last count, we still have all the kids.
So here's that list:
#1 BINGO
If I could even begin to express to you the importance of BINGO at Tansi I would, but I'm just not sure there's a way to do it. Back in the early 80's when my granny was alive, we would go to Tansi, and noone got between her and the Thunderbird at BINGO time. She BINGO'd one time when she had broken her ankle. Someone was going to go up and claim her prize for her but nothin' doin'. She was hobbling up on her cane no matter what. That would like having a stand-in claim your Oscar for Best Actress. It just doesn't happen.
The same man called BINGO at Tansi up until about 5 years ago. I don't think he'll ever know how much he's missed by the King clan. Tansi BINGO has a few "things" for lack of better word that are a little different than anybody else's BINGO. You can play up to four cards if you're a certain age. All the regular Tansi-ites choose very carefully. They flip the card over and study the back of it for a while. I've never been sure what they're looking for, but I do it too. I don't want to seem like an amateur. Then, there are certain times to yell out certain things. There's not handout to teach you, it just comes with experience. It is as follows:
Announcer: "I-22, two ducks on a pond."
Crowd: "Quack, quack"
Announcer: "B-11, those sexy legs."
Crowd: "Whoooot, woooo" (that's a whistle like you'd do at, of course, a sexy lady)
Announcer: "N-45, the cowboy's friend"
Crowd: "Bang, bang"
Announcer: "N-40"
Crowd: "40???"
You might remember earlier in the blog when I mentioned my husband claimed cult at his first visit. Is that becoming a little more understandable? Not only does he now admit the error of his ways, but he whistles and quacks right along with the rest of us. As I said, the original BINGO caller isn't there anymore, and the new guy is no fun at all. He doesn't do the little announcements, but we whistle and quack at the appropriate times anyway. Don't mess with our Tansi BINGO, dude!
The King table usually takes home a win or two, of course, there's usually about twenty of us playing so odds are. I've never won. Sad but true. I have never BINGO'd at Tansi. About three years ago, my brother BINGO'd for the first time ever at Tansi. Aside from his wedding day and the birth of his children, I think that might have been the happiest day of his life. He carried around his $5 bill proudly and flaunted it to anyone who would look even wearing it on his forehead for awhile if I remember correctly. My brother-in-law and nephews have hosted us to breakfast on more than one occasion when they took home the big prize- a gift certificate to the 19th Hole Restaurant. Winning is just so sweet in Tansi BINGO. I wouldn't actually know, but they sure act like it.
#2 Lake Tansi Putt Putt
The Lake Tansi Putt Putt spells Lake Tansi. Duh. What else would it spell? Each hole is a letter. Stop and ponder on that a moment. For instance, consider letter K. If the starting point is at the bottom of the straight line and the hole is at the bottom of the lower slant.... anyone else see the problem? Par 17. I want it noted here and now, in 32 years of Tansi-ing, I have seen one, 1, uno hole in one on the K. It was by my 6th grader when he was about 7 years old. There was cheering, screaming and disbelief. It wasn't a pretty shot, but it worked. The ball was hit, it launched, went airborne for a few seconds and dropped, and it went straight into the hole. Unbelievable.
#3 Water
Some of the boys in my family have gone to a camp with a lake called Lake Chilly Water. Make no mistake, the Tansi pool could compete in the chilly any day of the week. It. Is. Cold. But always full of King family in the afternoons anyway. Rousing games of Marco Polo and handstand competitions are a must.
There is also the Tansi beach. It is lake water. It is gross. And all of us have rolled in it as kids at one time or another. One of my favorite pictures is of my nephew coming up out of the Tansi lake like some sort of creature.
There are also paddleboats at Lake Tansi. Used to you could take them all over the lake, but for the last several years, they have a roped off area you must stay within. Paddleboat races are a common occurrence and the chain slipping off requiring a paddleboat rescue is also a common occurrence. The Great Paddle boat Rescue of 2010 will not soon be forgotten. There were tears, towing and finally the walking of the boat around the sides like a dog on a leash. The crowd was triumphant when all of the racers arrived on the dock safely. Did I mention the water is about 4 feet at its deepest point in this area?
There are also lots of other activities and the best part of Tansi is that if there's something you want to do, somebody's there doing it. Benefits of traveling in a pack. There is much bike riding, tennis playing, golfing, horseshoeing, ping ponging, fishing, whirling in the merry-go-around until you want to puke and game nights to name a few. But mostly there is eating. Eating and eating and eating. The "Tansi menu" discussions start in about May. It is priority. Did I mention we eat lots at Tansi? I cannot state that enough. We eat.
A favorite family memory these days is The 40th Birthday Tansi Parade in honor of my sister-in-law. It was complete with her standing out the top of the sunroof with a banner across her chest and a flashing tiara, waving so fabulously that she would have made the queen herself proud. We circled the cabin road honking the horn and screaming and were followed by a string of our kids on bikes and scooters. My sister was with them carrying balloons and yelling at anyone out in their yard that it was Wendy's birthday. That was a Tansi first and was extremely well received, especially by the kids who were delighted with our parade. Ok, the kids and Auntie Kel were especially delighted. Ok, the kids, Auntie Kel and Aunt Wendy were especially delighted. It was a good time.
It is a bit debated, but a best guess is that my family has been going to Tansi for about 32 years. As our family has grown, the Tansi crowd has grown because once you're brought into the King family, you're brought into the Tansi family. Come July, you're there- willingly or unwillingly, you are there.
Now, lets discuss Tansi accommodations through the years. It did start in the duplex which was a mile or two drive from the Thunderbird recreation center, which is essentially the hub of all that is Tansi. Over time, I'm not sure if Dad got a raise or how it happened, but we got moved to the cabins by the water and within a rock's throw of the Thunderbird. Whoa. Just whoa. The cabins had been around for a while. They had, ahem, character. To this day, certain features of the cabins are still discussed on a regular basis. I think it only right that each feature have its own section. I'll list them below.
The Screen Door
Every cabin had one, and they all sounded the same way. Loud. Really, really loud. And springless. You know the spring that would slow it down from slamming? Didn't have one. The fact that the door was loud was interesting. The fact that my parents got up at the crack of dawn every morning, we assume to make sure the lake hadn't gone anywhere, and went out the door has always been the main discussion about the door. RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! WHAM!!!! Early. Really, really early. Now through the Tansi years, lots of folks have gone with us, including one of our boyfriends/girlfriends on occasion, therefore it meant someone was usually sleeping on the ungodly pull-out couch in the living next to, you guessed it, the screen door. Looking back, I guess it was a form of Tansi hazing. If you survived it, there was a chance you could get invited back the next year.
The Ducks
There were always LOTS of ducks at Tansi. And Canadian geese. Mean Canadian geese. And guess what drew the many, many pooping and quacking and honking fowl to your cabin's yard? The slamming of the Screen Door. Now lets review at what time the door made its first RRRRRREEEEEEEE!!! WHAM!!! of each day. That's right, you remember. Early. Really, really early. So after the RRRREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! WHAM!!!! came the water fowl ensemble. Just in case you weren't aware, forty birds three feet from you cabin door are loud. Really, really loud. More hazing. Less sleep.
The Bugs
The bugs in the cabin definitely stressed some folks more than others. One of those stressed was my sister-in-law. When she started going to Tansi, she and my brother weren't married yet, so she and I shared a bed. Every night was the same ritual of her yanking the covers all the way back and doing weird shaking of the covers. Buggaphobia. My sister was also not a fan. Due to their wimpiness and lack of Tansi spirit, there were several years my brother's family and my sister's family moved to the condos. We won't be reviewing the condos in this blog because frankly, they go against all that is Tansi.
The Lack of Coolness
I don't mean the cabins weren't cool like the Fonz cool. They weren't cool like sweat dripping, no air conditioner having, can't quite catch your breath causing, laying in a pool of your own liquids sleeping cool. They were hot. Open a window, turn on a fan, they were still hot. After about twenty years, they did put in window unit air conditioners. We agreed that it may not have been totally in the Tansi spirit of things, but we ran them anyway.
There is so very much more that could be said about the old cabins. One year we went, and they all sort of looked tie-dyed. They had scraped them all to paint them but hadn't painted them yet. I don't think the Tansi folks ever realized there is a thing called "the off season" when lots of places do this type of work. Oh well, that year definitely made for some interesting pictures. Notice I said "old" cabins because about three years ago, after building new cabins here and there for a while, all the old cabins were torn down and new "cabins" were put in their place. The new places are completely ridiculous. They have flatscreens and dishwashers and exterminators and doors with springs. My dad is still mildly convinced that they've ruined Tansi
We cannot leave the accommodation topic without the, hands down, most important cabin being mentioned.
CABIN 210
A moment of silence please.
Cabin 210...the Zion, the promised land, the Nirvana of Lake Tansi Resort. Everyone wanted it, but none more than my father. It involved plotting and jockeying and setting alarms on January 1st of each year by my father and that was usually to beat out his own sister for it. It took fights and harassment by my Aunt Helen with all members of the Lake Tansi POA, but when it happened, when the stars aligned just right, and the POA actually wrote it down correctly and my family got Cabin 210, well, I'm not sure there was much greater joy for my dad. I've had my phone ring on more than one occasion and answer it to one statement and one statement alone, "We got it." Not jubilant or boastful, just a tone of mission accomplished like a soldier might sound after a hostage rescue within enemy territory. We look at the new cabin where 210 once stood and shake our heads. The loss is still a little too painful but with time, we're hoping it won't hurt so badly.
It is appearing to me that Tansi should probably be a blog series, but I'm on a roll, so why quit now. What is there to do at Lake Tansi for the long weekend every July? I'm glad you asked. I think I'll go back to my devoted sections, in order of importance this time, but before I start, there is one requirement to do any activity. The Activity Bracelet. Several of the bracelets come in the big white envelope when you check-in. Once in the cabin, the bracelets are promptly counted, then for the next 3 days, they are recounted and searched for and yelled about and fingers pointed at who had one last and stressed about in general. Every condo/cabin has there own collection of them. My parents spend most of their trip looking at the kids' arms and saying, "Is that one of ours?" I was never certain what happened if one was lost. Maybe the Tansi POA is made up of the firstborn children of past Tansi visitors who had lost their bracelets and had to pay with their eldest child. All I ever knew was the bracelets were important- really, really important. My hubby loves his activity bracelet. It's the first thing he puts on in the morning and the last thing he takes off at night while at Tansi. A few years ago in the winter, my rebel of a sister said, "Look what I found in my pool bag." She held up a Tansi activity bracelet. Gasps filled the room. The hubby was horrified then immediately took it and hung it on his rear view mirror where it hangs even today. Others have been found here and there over the years once we've gotten home. We keep it quiet and at last count, we still have all the kids.
So here's that list:
#1 BINGO
If I could even begin to express to you the importance of BINGO at Tansi I would, but I'm just not sure there's a way to do it. Back in the early 80's when my granny was alive, we would go to Tansi, and noone got between her and the Thunderbird at BINGO time. She BINGO'd one time when she had broken her ankle. Someone was going to go up and claim her prize for her but nothin' doin'. She was hobbling up on her cane no matter what. That would like having a stand-in claim your Oscar for Best Actress. It just doesn't happen.
The same man called BINGO at Tansi up until about 5 years ago. I don't think he'll ever know how much he's missed by the King clan. Tansi BINGO has a few "things" for lack of better word that are a little different than anybody else's BINGO. You can play up to four cards if you're a certain age. All the regular Tansi-ites choose very carefully. They flip the card over and study the back of it for a while. I've never been sure what they're looking for, but I do it too. I don't want to seem like an amateur. Then, there are certain times to yell out certain things. There's not handout to teach you, it just comes with experience. It is as follows:
Announcer: "I-22, two ducks on a pond."
Crowd: "Quack, quack"
Announcer: "B-11, those sexy legs."
Crowd: "Whoooot, woooo" (that's a whistle like you'd do at, of course, a sexy lady)
Announcer: "N-45, the cowboy's friend"
Crowd: "Bang, bang"
Announcer: "N-40"
Crowd: "40???"
You might remember earlier in the blog when I mentioned my husband claimed cult at his first visit. Is that becoming a little more understandable? Not only does he now admit the error of his ways, but he whistles and quacks right along with the rest of us. As I said, the original BINGO caller isn't there anymore, and the new guy is no fun at all. He doesn't do the little announcements, but we whistle and quack at the appropriate times anyway. Don't mess with our Tansi BINGO, dude!
The King table usually takes home a win or two, of course, there's usually about twenty of us playing so odds are. I've never won. Sad but true. I have never BINGO'd at Tansi. About three years ago, my brother BINGO'd for the first time ever at Tansi. Aside from his wedding day and the birth of his children, I think that might have been the happiest day of his life. He carried around his $5 bill proudly and flaunted it to anyone who would look even wearing it on his forehead for awhile if I remember correctly. My brother-in-law and nephews have hosted us to breakfast on more than one occasion when they took home the big prize- a gift certificate to the 19th Hole Restaurant. Winning is just so sweet in Tansi BINGO. I wouldn't actually know, but they sure act like it.
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| The year of his big win. We think it might have been this lucky shirt. Notice the new cabin. Terrible isn't it? |
The Lake Tansi Putt Putt spells Lake Tansi. Duh. What else would it spell? Each hole is a letter. Stop and ponder on that a moment. For instance, consider letter K. If the starting point is at the bottom of the straight line and the hole is at the bottom of the lower slant.... anyone else see the problem? Par 17. I want it noted here and now, in 32 years of Tansi-ing, I have seen one, 1, uno hole in one on the K. It was by my 6th grader when he was about 7 years old. There was cheering, screaming and disbelief. It wasn't a pretty shot, but it worked. The ball was hit, it launched, went airborne for a few seconds and dropped, and it went straight into the hole. Unbelievable.
#3 Water
Some of the boys in my family have gone to a camp with a lake called Lake Chilly Water. Make no mistake, the Tansi pool could compete in the chilly any day of the week. It. Is. Cold. But always full of King family in the afternoons anyway. Rousing games of Marco Polo and handstand competitions are a must.
There is also the Tansi beach. It is lake water. It is gross. And all of us have rolled in it as kids at one time or another. One of my favorite pictures is of my nephew coming up out of the Tansi lake like some sort of creature.
There are also paddleboats at Lake Tansi. Used to you could take them all over the lake, but for the last several years, they have a roped off area you must stay within. Paddleboat races are a common occurrence and the chain slipping off requiring a paddleboat rescue is also a common occurrence. The Great Paddle boat Rescue of 2010 will not soon be forgotten. There were tears, towing and finally the walking of the boat around the sides like a dog on a leash. The crowd was triumphant when all of the racers arrived on the dock safely. Did I mention the water is about 4 feet at its deepest point in this area?
There are also lots of other activities and the best part of Tansi is that if there's something you want to do, somebody's there doing it. Benefits of traveling in a pack. There is much bike riding, tennis playing, golfing, horseshoeing, ping ponging, fishing, whirling in the merry-go-around until you want to puke and game nights to name a few. But mostly there is eating. Eating and eating and eating. The "Tansi menu" discussions start in about May. It is priority. Did I mention we eat lots at Tansi? I cannot state that enough. We eat.
A favorite family memory these days is The 40th Birthday Tansi Parade in honor of my sister-in-law. It was complete with her standing out the top of the sunroof with a banner across her chest and a flashing tiara, waving so fabulously that she would have made the queen herself proud. We circled the cabin road honking the horn and screaming and were followed by a string of our kids on bikes and scooters. My sister was with them carrying balloons and yelling at anyone out in their yard that it was Wendy's birthday. That was a Tansi first and was extremely well received, especially by the kids who were delighted with our parade. Ok, the kids and Auntie Kel were especially delighted. Ok, the kids, Auntie Kel and Aunt Wendy were especially delighted. It was a good time.
So I'm thinking there will be more Tansi blogs in my future because in our house, Tansi is a great big deal. The hubby has decided it is our Hamptons. At least weekly, the first grader asks if it's time to go to Tansi yet. Tonight he drew a Tansi picture on the front of a notebook, said he was taking it to Tansi to write notes in, then writing an autobiography. Yes, he actually said autobiography. Are you getting that Tansi is important?
So the truth of the matter is, we're not completely positive how many more years of Tansi there will be. The 6th grader caught wind of that last year and panic set in. All we know for sure is that the reservations are made for this year, and we are excited. You are never sure which cousins, aunts and uncles will be there, but it is always a crowd and fun to see who shows up. We know for sure that we'll have lots of food, that is a given. And we know for sure that we'll make memories with our family that we wouldn't trade for anything. Last year we had our first annual Tansi summer recap. All the grandkids and anyone they might have had with them took turns having center stage. They told about any summer camp, school trip or mission trip they had been on at the first of the summer. We all sat and listened attentively and applauded each presentation. Precious times with a precious bunch. Times that we have thanks to Lake Tansi.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Beasting Up This Bossness
I lost my blog. Yep, I literally could not find it. In all of this time, it appears I never saved it under favorites, it wasn't under history, it was just lost but now it's found. Maybe tonight is a good night to figure out a way to mark it. I worry me.
I had a fabulous weekend taking a little road trip with my parental units and my boys to see my sis and her fam in SC. The hubby was out fighting battles. We did a whole lot of sitting, talking, EATING and dancing. Fun!
Things I'm currently pondering. Lent. Homemade deodorant because aluminum in deodorant has always scared me. Being more hospitable. The Apostle's Creed. Traveling. I like diversity in my ponderings.
Things that have recently amazed me. The 6th Grader's ability to use Powerpoint much better than his mother. Braces cost $5,000. The 6th Grader's wisdom teeth are almost developed enough to have removed. The 1st Grader's teeth have yet to come in on top although they've been almost visible through his gums for about a month. Lots of teeth amazement it would seem.
But the thing that takes the "has recently amazed me" prize is... (drum roll) I have to pick out a picture to go in the 6th Grader's yearbook in the little section we put in about him because he's graduating 6th grade. I'll repeat that for those who may be staring in amazement with me at that statement...because he's graduating the 6th grade. Deep breaths. So, I've been looking through all his pictures from babyhood on, and now he's about to finish his elementary years.....amazing. Yep, that one definitely wins.
I don't sit and ponder on this too much. It has the potential to absolutely make me want to puke a little. Everybody said it passes fast. Everybody was right. These days, when I'm not wanting to choke him, he's hands down one of the funniest kids I know. I try to focus on how much fun every stage is. It is so weird though that it's been over twelve years since they laid him in my arms in the recovery room. It really seems like just a few months ago. And the smell of Baby Magic can instantly take me back to holding him over my shoulder and sniffing his sweet head in the hospital the night he was born. Just last week, I was in choir practice and was flooded with the memory of walking into choir practice four days overdue with him, and everyone groaning and laughing that I was still waddling around. Then I thought about how I would take him to choir practice with me when he was a new baby and put the blanket over his head and pat his bottom until he went to sleep and stress everyone that I was smothering him. I can remember laying him on the changing table the first day after we brought him home from the hospital as clearly as if I had done it this morning. I looked at him and didn't have panic, just an overwhelming realization that he was here to stay. I can see him spinning that adorable face around as soon as his back would hit the changing table even as that tiny baby to look at "dogster" that Miss Wanda gave him. It was automatic and cracked us up every time. I could go on and on, and it would just cover his first couple of months in this world.
And now I'm picking out a picture to put in his 6th grade yearbook. Wow. We bug each other quite a bit now, and he doesn't smell like Baby Magic anymore, but like his dad's aftershave that he sneaks on his way out the door to school. Times of worrying that he spits up too much have turned to times of worrying that he'll understand the dangers of synthetic drugs. Times of trying to teach him to sit up have turned to times of trying to teach him how to become a man of God and lead by example. Times of holding him while he sleeps have turned to times of letting him go more and more.
All these changes can make a mama sad, that's for sure, but with those sad changes comes some great ones too. There are sports to watch and cheer him on, and friends that are in and out to enjoy and cut up with. There are dry-witted comments just like his dad's that crack me up. There are conversations that are more adult to adult. There are the amazing accent abilities, even if they are politically incorrect, and he has no tact of when to use them. There's seeing him become a young man that people love and trust. And there's seeing him just plain ole get it right sometimes. That makes a mama's heart glad.
But there are a few things that just haven't changed, and I'm not sure they ever will. There's the part where he's a mama's boy...a great big, bull in a china shop, offensive tackling, two hamburger eatin' mama's boy just like he's always been. Oh yeah, we get into it with lots of me saying, "You better get that look off your face!", but some things haven't changed much at all. He still wants to know where I am every minute. He still gives lots of hugs and I love you's to his mama. And he even still climbs in the bed with us in the mornings just to hang out sometimes. Some things definitely change, but some things stay really close to the same.
And there's another thing that's stayed the same. His mama being thankful. I'm thankful that I'm learning to look at all the fun that's yet to come and not be so sad about what's already gone by. But more than anything, I'm as thankful now as I was over twelve years ago. I've thanked God since the day he was born for this precious, giant boy who has made my world such an amazingly better place by having him it.
Now, it's time for me to go find a picture.
I had a fabulous weekend taking a little road trip with my parental units and my boys to see my sis and her fam in SC. The hubby was out fighting battles. We did a whole lot of sitting, talking, EATING and dancing. Fun!
Things I'm currently pondering. Lent. Homemade deodorant because aluminum in deodorant has always scared me. Being more hospitable. The Apostle's Creed. Traveling. I like diversity in my ponderings.
Things that have recently amazed me. The 6th Grader's ability to use Powerpoint much better than his mother. Braces cost $5,000. The 6th Grader's wisdom teeth are almost developed enough to have removed. The 1st Grader's teeth have yet to come in on top although they've been almost visible through his gums for about a month. Lots of teeth amazement it would seem.
But the thing that takes the "has recently amazed me" prize is... (drum roll) I have to pick out a picture to go in the 6th Grader's yearbook in the little section we put in about him because he's graduating 6th grade. I'll repeat that for those who may be staring in amazement with me at that statement...because he's graduating the 6th grade. Deep breaths. So, I've been looking through all his pictures from babyhood on, and now he's about to finish his elementary years.....amazing. Yep, that one definitely wins.
I don't sit and ponder on this too much. It has the potential to absolutely make me want to puke a little. Everybody said it passes fast. Everybody was right. These days, when I'm not wanting to choke him, he's hands down one of the funniest kids I know. I try to focus on how much fun every stage is. It is so weird though that it's been over twelve years since they laid him in my arms in the recovery room. It really seems like just a few months ago. And the smell of Baby Magic can instantly take me back to holding him over my shoulder and sniffing his sweet head in the hospital the night he was born. Just last week, I was in choir practice and was flooded with the memory of walking into choir practice four days overdue with him, and everyone groaning and laughing that I was still waddling around. Then I thought about how I would take him to choir practice with me when he was a new baby and put the blanket over his head and pat his bottom until he went to sleep and stress everyone that I was smothering him. I can remember laying him on the changing table the first day after we brought him home from the hospital as clearly as if I had done it this morning. I looked at him and didn't have panic, just an overwhelming realization that he was here to stay. I can see him spinning that adorable face around as soon as his back would hit the changing table even as that tiny baby to look at "dogster" that Miss Wanda gave him. It was automatic and cracked us up every time. I could go on and on, and it would just cover his first couple of months in this world.
And now I'm picking out a picture to put in his 6th grade yearbook. Wow. We bug each other quite a bit now, and he doesn't smell like Baby Magic anymore, but like his dad's aftershave that he sneaks on his way out the door to school. Times of worrying that he spits up too much have turned to times of worrying that he'll understand the dangers of synthetic drugs. Times of trying to teach him to sit up have turned to times of trying to teach him how to become a man of God and lead by example. Times of holding him while he sleeps have turned to times of letting him go more and more.
All these changes can make a mama sad, that's for sure, but with those sad changes comes some great ones too. There are sports to watch and cheer him on, and friends that are in and out to enjoy and cut up with. There are dry-witted comments just like his dad's that crack me up. There are conversations that are more adult to adult. There are the amazing accent abilities, even if they are politically incorrect, and he has no tact of when to use them. There's seeing him become a young man that people love and trust. And there's seeing him just plain ole get it right sometimes. That makes a mama's heart glad.
But there are a few things that just haven't changed, and I'm not sure they ever will. There's the part where he's a mama's boy...a great big, bull in a china shop, offensive tackling, two hamburger eatin' mama's boy just like he's always been. Oh yeah, we get into it with lots of me saying, "You better get that look off your face!", but some things haven't changed much at all. He still wants to know where I am every minute. He still gives lots of hugs and I love you's to his mama. And he even still climbs in the bed with us in the mornings just to hang out sometimes. Some things definitely change, but some things stay really close to the same.
And there's another thing that's stayed the same. His mama being thankful. I'm thankful that I'm learning to look at all the fun that's yet to come and not be so sad about what's already gone by. But more than anything, I'm as thankful now as I was over twelve years ago. I've thanked God since the day he was born for this precious, giant boy who has made my world such an amazingly better place by having him it.
Now, it's time for me to go find a picture.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Love Ya. Mean It.
Now please don't be jealous of my glamorous life because at this house, we are hopeless romantics. For our special Valentine's evening, we took kids to scouts, put clean sheets on their beds and had a fancy dinner of Progresso soup and an egg sandwich. The hubby has to be at work at 5am, so he headed to bed by 9:30. We are just a house full of excitement tonight. If you're green with envy right now, it is completely understandable.
But I'd like to say one more thing about this night, it's all OK with me. Now fancy dinners and date nights are fun with my hubby, that's for sure, but tonight wasn't anything to sneeze at. We giggled and cut-up trying to get sheets on the beds. We sang so the dog would howl and were terribly entertained. We discussed odd drawings by the first grader and looked puzzled at each other. We debated with the sixth grader that no, he is not dyslexic, and yes, he has to do his homework. We talked about crazy work people and how a five mile hike is a long way. And then, we gave each other a peck on the lips and said, "Good night, love you" , and we meant it.
We've meant it for a long time. We've meant it for 14 and a half years of marriage and 6 months of engagement and 3 years of dating before that and 3 years of close friendship before that. It's not a perfect, flowery, mushy, silly love which seems to be the thing on Valentine's Day, and don't even get me started on how stupid I think the phrase "soul mate" is. This "love you" is the kind that laughs together at dogs barking to I'll Fly Away. It's that kind that giggles at ignorant seductive comments that are anything but seductive while putting Safari sheets on a kid's bed. This "love you" is the one that through years of laughing and fighting and having babies and raising babies and praying and paying bills and buying houses and going to work and doing laundry and watching TV makes you look at that person and think, I'm so glad I'm doing all of this with you. Do notice the word "fighting" in there. We haven't done it all without many a heated discussion along the way, but when it's all said and done, one thing hasn't changed. I'm so glad I'm doing all of this with him.
There are other things about this "love you". It's the kind where I look at the clock and think, Oh good, he'll be home soon or when he looks at our schedules and says, "Oh yay, we have Thursday off together." It's this "love you" that makes me smile when I get texts at work that say "Good morning, Sweetie" or just coming in after a long day at work and getting a big hug. There's other things about this "love you", but well, I better stop there with a wink and a smile. ;)
So it's now 1 in the morning, and I'm going to go climb in bed with the snoring hubby. And after I hit him with my elbow to make him roll over out of my ear, he's going to wake up just a little. As he rolls on over, he'll say, "Good night, Sweetie. Love you." I'll say, "Love you too." And we'll mean it.
But I'd like to say one more thing about this night, it's all OK with me. Now fancy dinners and date nights are fun with my hubby, that's for sure, but tonight wasn't anything to sneeze at. We giggled and cut-up trying to get sheets on the beds. We sang so the dog would howl and were terribly entertained. We discussed odd drawings by the first grader and looked puzzled at each other. We debated with the sixth grader that no, he is not dyslexic, and yes, he has to do his homework. We talked about crazy work people and how a five mile hike is a long way. And then, we gave each other a peck on the lips and said, "Good night, love you" , and we meant it.
We've meant it for a long time. We've meant it for 14 and a half years of marriage and 6 months of engagement and 3 years of dating before that and 3 years of close friendship before that. It's not a perfect, flowery, mushy, silly love which seems to be the thing on Valentine's Day, and don't even get me started on how stupid I think the phrase "soul mate" is. This "love you" is the kind that laughs together at dogs barking to I'll Fly Away. It's that kind that giggles at ignorant seductive comments that are anything but seductive while putting Safari sheets on a kid's bed. This "love you" is the one that through years of laughing and fighting and having babies and raising babies and praying and paying bills and buying houses and going to work and doing laundry and watching TV makes you look at that person and think, I'm so glad I'm doing all of this with you. Do notice the word "fighting" in there. We haven't done it all without many a heated discussion along the way, but when it's all said and done, one thing hasn't changed. I'm so glad I'm doing all of this with him.
There are other things about this "love you". It's the kind where I look at the clock and think, Oh good, he'll be home soon or when he looks at our schedules and says, "Oh yay, we have Thursday off together." It's this "love you" that makes me smile when I get texts at work that say "Good morning, Sweetie" or just coming in after a long day at work and getting a big hug. There's other things about this "love you", but well, I better stop there with a wink and a smile. ;)
So it's now 1 in the morning, and I'm going to go climb in bed with the snoring hubby. And after I hit him with my elbow to make him roll over out of my ear, he's going to wake up just a little. As he rolls on over, he'll say, "Good night, Sweetie. Love you." I'll say, "Love you too." And we'll mean it.
Ladd and Son
One of the most defining times in my life, when I knew God was absolutely in charge and things are in His time and not mine, was when I was pregnant with the 6th Grader. It's a long story, but I've got time and to be honest, that's the only kind I tell. So here goes.
The hubby and I had been married about 15 months when I got pregnant with him. Up until that point, I carried our health insurance because none was offered where the hubby worked. I found out I was pregnant in January of 1999, and I started praying in January of 1999 that God would give the hubby a new job that had great benefits. I knew I didn't want to work full-time once the baby was born and wasn't sure I would go back to work at all, so I got busy. I sent out lots of resumes for him to whatever fax number I could find to whatever company I thought might hire him and have great benefits. So based on my prayer and my effort, I assumed he would have a new job with, of course, great benefits by February of 1999. Since I'm not completely ridiculous, I thought I'd give God until March just because I'm such a good sport. Somehow, I think God decided to see how good of sport He could make me because February came and went with no calls. Then, believe it or not, March came and went with no calls. Um, God? Hello? I prayed. Lets whip up a job right quick now, how bout it?
Now funny enough, I was also teaching a college and career class at church at this time. I lie not, I think every Sunday was some version of a lesson on waiting on God. Those poor kids. They were merely the victims of my needing to learn a huge lesson. They had to endure week after week of the same lesson because of me. Maybe He was teaching them to be good sports too.
My belly grew and my baby flopped, and no new job was had. The hubby went to some random interviews during that time. He would come back on occasion and say curiously, "Um honey, what made you decide to send my resume to that place?" "I thought they might hire you," was always the answer, no matter how odd the job might have been. And the belly grew and the baby flopped and the job was not happening, but I knew I was not leaving this flopping baby 40+ hours a week. I knew something would work out.
My initial due date with the flopping baby was 9/9/99. How cool is that? It was cool for about 15 minutes until they did an ultrasound and changed it to 09/18/99. On 9/18/99, the belly was huge, the baby could no longer flop and no job leads were in the works. I'm pretty sure I reminded God that I thought we should have had this all settled back in February. I'm pretty sure He reminded me that I wasn't in charge.
Then it happened. On Monday, I was two days overdue, and the phone rang. It was a local cabinet shop wanting to interview the hubby. Oddly enough, cabinetry was the line of business he was in. He set up the interview for that Wednesday, with me in a state of four days overdueness (made up word for the purposes of this story). I was at church that evening when I talked to him. He said the interview went well, but they were looking for someone to be self-employed. He'd have to have all his own tools, vehicle, everything, so he didn't think it would work. That would be a big investment for two people married just over two years with a baby on the way (or not- we weren't sure at this point he was ever coming out). And one last detail he mentioned, we could buy our health insurance through them, a very strange thing that almost no one offers their subcontract employees.
On Saturday evening, our precious boy was born, and WE WERE THRILLED! We had tons of feedings, tons of visitors and tons of emotions. We sort of forgot about the job situation until Monday. While still lying in a hospital bed holding my new baby, the hubby went over to the phone, called his current employer and gave his notice. Did I mention that my sister and her husband who knew nothing about nothing at this point were sitting in the room with us? Did I also mention she about fell in the floor with a look of panic that her brother-in-law was quitting his job with a brand new baby to take care of? When they heard the story, they were so excited, "Your own company! It can be Ladd and Son now!" I remember looking at the hubby and saying, "We are crazy! Can you believe we're doing all of this right now?" God's timing is God's timing.
He did start the job, did have great insurance and did have all the supplies he needed including a trailer to pull. When we went to get the trailer, he said, "How do we pay for it?" We wrote a check for the over $500. To this day, I don't know how we had that extra money. No one gave it to us. We didn't budget it. It was just there. I'll never forget him saying, "Seriously, where did we get that?" I said, "I don't know but pay for it quick before it's gone."
I got saved when I was young, so I don't have the reformed druggie, lived on the streets testimony that some have. Times like this in my life are my testimony. Times, when if we'd known in advance, would have looked like there would be no way. I learned a lot from that few months. I've not mastered anything, but I do have more faith because of it.
The hubby moved on to another job after about six years and is no longer self-employed. The job was a blessing and what we needed at the time. I don't know if he'll ever be self-employed again, but if so, we'll update the title of the company and add an "s". We'll be the proud owners of Ladd and Sons.
The hubby and I had been married about 15 months when I got pregnant with him. Up until that point, I carried our health insurance because none was offered where the hubby worked. I found out I was pregnant in January of 1999, and I started praying in January of 1999 that God would give the hubby a new job that had great benefits. I knew I didn't want to work full-time once the baby was born and wasn't sure I would go back to work at all, so I got busy. I sent out lots of resumes for him to whatever fax number I could find to whatever company I thought might hire him and have great benefits. So based on my prayer and my effort, I assumed he would have a new job with, of course, great benefits by February of 1999. Since I'm not completely ridiculous, I thought I'd give God until March just because I'm such a good sport. Somehow, I think God decided to see how good of sport He could make me because February came and went with no calls. Then, believe it or not, March came and went with no calls. Um, God? Hello? I prayed. Lets whip up a job right quick now, how bout it?
Now funny enough, I was also teaching a college and career class at church at this time. I lie not, I think every Sunday was some version of a lesson on waiting on God. Those poor kids. They were merely the victims of my needing to learn a huge lesson. They had to endure week after week of the same lesson because of me. Maybe He was teaching them to be good sports too.
My belly grew and my baby flopped, and no new job was had. The hubby went to some random interviews during that time. He would come back on occasion and say curiously, "Um honey, what made you decide to send my resume to that place?" "I thought they might hire you," was always the answer, no matter how odd the job might have been. And the belly grew and the baby flopped and the job was not happening, but I knew I was not leaving this flopping baby 40+ hours a week. I knew something would work out.
My initial due date with the flopping baby was 9/9/99. How cool is that? It was cool for about 15 minutes until they did an ultrasound and changed it to 09/18/99. On 9/18/99, the belly was huge, the baby could no longer flop and no job leads were in the works. I'm pretty sure I reminded God that I thought we should have had this all settled back in February. I'm pretty sure He reminded me that I wasn't in charge.
Then it happened. On Monday, I was two days overdue, and the phone rang. It was a local cabinet shop wanting to interview the hubby. Oddly enough, cabinetry was the line of business he was in. He set up the interview for that Wednesday, with me in a state of four days overdueness (made up word for the purposes of this story). I was at church that evening when I talked to him. He said the interview went well, but they were looking for someone to be self-employed. He'd have to have all his own tools, vehicle, everything, so he didn't think it would work. That would be a big investment for two people married just over two years with a baby on the way (or not- we weren't sure at this point he was ever coming out). And one last detail he mentioned, we could buy our health insurance through them, a very strange thing that almost no one offers their subcontract employees.
On Saturday evening, our precious boy was born, and WE WERE THRILLED! We had tons of feedings, tons of visitors and tons of emotions. We sort of forgot about the job situation until Monday. While still lying in a hospital bed holding my new baby, the hubby went over to the phone, called his current employer and gave his notice. Did I mention that my sister and her husband who knew nothing about nothing at this point were sitting in the room with us? Did I also mention she about fell in the floor with a look of panic that her brother-in-law was quitting his job with a brand new baby to take care of? When they heard the story, they were so excited, "Your own company! It can be Ladd and Son now!" I remember looking at the hubby and saying, "We are crazy! Can you believe we're doing all of this right now?" God's timing is God's timing.
He did start the job, did have great insurance and did have all the supplies he needed including a trailer to pull. When we went to get the trailer, he said, "How do we pay for it?" We wrote a check for the over $500. To this day, I don't know how we had that extra money. No one gave it to us. We didn't budget it. It was just there. I'll never forget him saying, "Seriously, where did we get that?" I said, "I don't know but pay for it quick before it's gone."
I got saved when I was young, so I don't have the reformed druggie, lived on the streets testimony that some have. Times like this in my life are my testimony. Times, when if we'd known in advance, would have looked like there would be no way. I learned a lot from that few months. I've not mastered anything, but I do have more faith because of it.
The hubby moved on to another job after about six years and is no longer self-employed. The job was a blessing and what we needed at the time. I don't know if he'll ever be self-employed again, but if so, we'll update the title of the company and add an "s". We'll be the proud owners of Ladd and Sons.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
One Word Can Make All The Difference
So, I guess we can see that my determination to be a more faithful blogger than I was journaler was a little less than successful. Oh well. Maybe I'll be a monthly blogger, start a whole new fad.
I had a fabulous birthday. Girls from work took me out to lunch. My husband brought me New York Giants cupcakes. It was sweet but confusing since I'm not even much of a professional football fan and certainly not the Giants. He explained he had a very limited selection consisting of Tron and Dora. Dora apparently was a close second. We had a birthday celebration with the family at Jason's Deli with great gifts and a homemade cake by Mom. The other funniest girl I know, besides me, gave me a fabulous print she made with a verse we had noticed in church one day. Another good buddy gave me homemade cookies this past Sunday. I love a birthday and stretching it out for as long as possible. I've done pretty well this year. I'm not sure I'm going to let it be over yet. We'll see.
So back to that print that other funniest girl made me. The verse is Exodus 14:14, "The Lord will fight for you, you need only to be still." It has been sitting in my living room since she gave it to me. The 6th grader passes it every day. After 4 days of passing by it, he stopped, stared at it a while, looked confused (not necessarily uncommon for him ie 6th grader) and said, "OHHH! I thought it said The Lord will fight you!" Wow. Now doesn't that change the whole meaning of the verse? Take one word out, and it is a whole new ballgame. After a couple of weeks of having some conflict with random people which is highly, highly unusual since I try to avoid conflict at all costs (ok to be honest, with everyone but my hubby), I am really glad the verse didn't leave out the "for". I fully recognize if I'd "be still" and let the Lord work it out, He always does a much, much better job than me. Go figure. I think I'll be leaving my print out for quite a while. I need a lot of reminding.
I had a fabulous birthday. Girls from work took me out to lunch. My husband brought me New York Giants cupcakes. It was sweet but confusing since I'm not even much of a professional football fan and certainly not the Giants. He explained he had a very limited selection consisting of Tron and Dora. Dora apparently was a close second. We had a birthday celebration with the family at Jason's Deli with great gifts and a homemade cake by Mom. The other funniest girl I know, besides me, gave me a fabulous print she made with a verse we had noticed in church one day. Another good buddy gave me homemade cookies this past Sunday. I love a birthday and stretching it out for as long as possible. I've done pretty well this year. I'm not sure I'm going to let it be over yet. We'll see.
So back to that print that other funniest girl made me. The verse is Exodus 14:14, "The Lord will fight for you, you need only to be still." It has been sitting in my living room since she gave it to me. The 6th grader passes it every day. After 4 days of passing by it, he stopped, stared at it a while, looked confused (not necessarily uncommon for him ie 6th grader) and said, "OHHH! I thought it said The Lord will fight you!" Wow. Now doesn't that change the whole meaning of the verse? Take one word out, and it is a whole new ballgame. After a couple of weeks of having some conflict with random people which is highly, highly unusual since I try to avoid conflict at all costs (ok to be honest, with everyone but my hubby), I am really glad the verse didn't leave out the "for". I fully recognize if I'd "be still" and let the Lord work it out, He always does a much, much better job than me. Go figure. I think I'll be leaving my print out for quite a while. I need a lot of reminding.
So this made me happy tonight. The 1st Grader has been super lovey, dovey of late. Lots and lots of, "Know who I love? My mommy!" and just sitting with me lots. After church tonight, he brought me this card. I needed a little help translating the bottom. It says, "O, yea and thank for the wafles". Since I'm pretty convinced my love language is words of affirmation, this made my day. And I thought the "yea" was quite Biblical. I really could squeeze him and by "really could" I mean I squeeze him. He's a sweetie.
So in closing, I'll finish with Exodus 14:14, "The Lord will fight for you, you need on to be still." My prayer for me tonight is to learn to be still. I've never been good at it. I want to fix situations or talk to other people about the situations instead of going to the One who is waiting to fight for me, not fight me. Oh thank Heavens there's a for! Now maybe I'll work on reading with the 6th grader.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Everybody Else is Doing It
Hmmm, after I typed in that title, I realized that totally sounds like my 6th grader. I must be hanging out with him too much. When my next blog is called, "lets beast up this bossness", I'll know for sure that I've been hanging out with 6th grade boys too much.
The "everybody else is doing it" that I'm talking about is blogging. Being that we just got a computer at our house in December of 2011 (yes, you read that correctly- 2011), I had no idea that everybody had a blog. I've always meant to keep a journal but have been a little less than faithful with it, ie, about a week tops in my current longest journaling streak. I'm not writing this for it to actually be a famous blog or anything like that. There's just things I'd like to remember. Things I'd like my kids to know. Things that I think I should write down so maybe it'll help me- you know, cheap therapy. We'll see. Maybe this will last 8 days. It's my birthday, so I figure there's no time like the present.
My blog's title is not my own. This theme verse was stolen from my sister-in-law, Wendy. She died on May 18, 2011. I miss her. "Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer." She was these things. She has on a bracelet right now with Romans 12:12 engraved on it, and her three daughters each have one to match. This verse will always make me think of her, and its words are something I need to remember every day, so it seemed like a good blog title. I wrote a bit of an essay about Wendy a couple of months before she died. I'll probably never put it on here because frankly, it is a bit depressing, and I don't want remember that part. I want to think about the happy. We had lots and lots of happy.
So for my debut blog, what should I write? It's super late, and I'm super tired, so I'm thinking I won't get too deep and philosophical. Ok, truth be told, I'm doubting I'm ever too deep and philosophical. Frankly, I don't even know if I'm spelling it right.
I think I decided to start this because of a conversation I had with a friend tonight. We're trying to decide whether God would have us go on a mission trip with our church this summer. Discerning the will of God. That doesn't seem too deep; I think I'll go with that. No, we actually discussed how there have been times in our lives when God absolutely slaps us in the face with things that we know could only come from Him. We decided He has to do this because we're not too bright or we're stubborn or doubters or something of the sorts that we shouldn't be. Anyway, I get so excited when it happens. Sadly, I think it would happen lots more to me if I would stay in His Word like I should all the time and really seek Him like I should. But as I was saying, she called tonight to tell me what's going on with her and some things God has shown her this week about the trip. She laid out her fleece (which I really had no clue about), and He has shown her awesome things this week. I'm totally stealing her story for this blog at some point. Wonder if it's wrong to steal people's spiritual stuff? I've stolen Wendy's verse and my friend's story. I'll call it borrowing. That sounds better, especially for spiritual stuff.
I just have a lot of these times in my life, and I'm afraid I'll forget. I want them documented so when there are times in my life when I just don't feel like I can see Jesus, there will be reminders. It's like Joshua's stones of remembrance. Ooooo- that would have been a cool blog title. Darn, too late. After they crossed the Jordan, they set up 12 stones where the ark had crossed to remember what God had done for them. I'm going to set up a blog of remembrance or at least try to a little. I want my kids to see how God worked in our family's life when they were little. That's a lot that I want to do with this blog. I want to point to Jesus.
I also want to remember the crazy. My kids are a little crazy. I'm a little crazy. My husband....well, he's a little gray, probably from all the crazy. I just want to remember all the fun.
So, I guess this is the beginning. I hope it'll last, but even if it doesn't, I can say I've blogged once and if for no other reason....just because everybody else is doing it.
The "everybody else is doing it" that I'm talking about is blogging. Being that we just got a computer at our house in December of 2011 (yes, you read that correctly- 2011), I had no idea that everybody had a blog. I've always meant to keep a journal but have been a little less than faithful with it, ie, about a week tops in my current longest journaling streak. I'm not writing this for it to actually be a famous blog or anything like that. There's just things I'd like to remember. Things I'd like my kids to know. Things that I think I should write down so maybe it'll help me- you know, cheap therapy. We'll see. Maybe this will last 8 days. It's my birthday, so I figure there's no time like the present.
My blog's title is not my own. This theme verse was stolen from my sister-in-law, Wendy. She died on May 18, 2011. I miss her. "Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer." She was these things. She has on a bracelet right now with Romans 12:12 engraved on it, and her three daughters each have one to match. This verse will always make me think of her, and its words are something I need to remember every day, so it seemed like a good blog title. I wrote a bit of an essay about Wendy a couple of months before she died. I'll probably never put it on here because frankly, it is a bit depressing, and I don't want remember that part. I want to think about the happy. We had lots and lots of happy.
So for my debut blog, what should I write? It's super late, and I'm super tired, so I'm thinking I won't get too deep and philosophical. Ok, truth be told, I'm doubting I'm ever too deep and philosophical. Frankly, I don't even know if I'm spelling it right.
I think I decided to start this because of a conversation I had with a friend tonight. We're trying to decide whether God would have us go on a mission trip with our church this summer. Discerning the will of God. That doesn't seem too deep; I think I'll go with that. No, we actually discussed how there have been times in our lives when God absolutely slaps us in the face with things that we know could only come from Him. We decided He has to do this because we're not too bright or we're stubborn or doubters or something of the sorts that we shouldn't be. Anyway, I get so excited when it happens. Sadly, I think it would happen lots more to me if I would stay in His Word like I should all the time and really seek Him like I should. But as I was saying, she called tonight to tell me what's going on with her and some things God has shown her this week about the trip. She laid out her fleece (which I really had no clue about), and He has shown her awesome things this week. I'm totally stealing her story for this blog at some point. Wonder if it's wrong to steal people's spiritual stuff? I've stolen Wendy's verse and my friend's story. I'll call it borrowing. That sounds better, especially for spiritual stuff.
I just have a lot of these times in my life, and I'm afraid I'll forget. I want them documented so when there are times in my life when I just don't feel like I can see Jesus, there will be reminders. It's like Joshua's stones of remembrance. Ooooo- that would have been a cool blog title. Darn, too late. After they crossed the Jordan, they set up 12 stones where the ark had crossed to remember what God had done for them. I'm going to set up a blog of remembrance or at least try to a little. I want my kids to see how God worked in our family's life when they were little. That's a lot that I want to do with this blog. I want to point to Jesus.
I also want to remember the crazy. My kids are a little crazy. I'm a little crazy. My husband....well, he's a little gray, probably from all the crazy. I just want to remember all the fun.
So, I guess this is the beginning. I hope it'll last, but even if it doesn't, I can say I've blogged once and if for no other reason....just because everybody else is doing it.
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