Minor Heart Attack on the Hippo front

Today started out so innocently. Aurelia and I went to her preschool for an orientation, then to the doctors to get her shot records and physical form filled out. Afterward, we decided to change clothes and have lunch with Daddy.
Less than a mile from our home I heard a strange noise and looked in the rearview mirror to check it out. That is when I saw my tutu clad daughter sitting in and covered with broken glass. The window on her side of the van had been shattered by a projectile (most likely from the mowing being done in the median). I was able to pull off to the side of the road and call 911 before totally losing it. Once I knew help was on the way, I got in the car from the other side to avoid traffic and removed her from her seat. Large chunks of glass still hung from the window frame and I was certain there was going to be a trip to the ER and stitches. But friends, I am here to tell you, that girl had not one single solitary scratch on her entire body. She was frightened when she picked up on my stress, but otherwise unscathed. My mind raced with possibilities of what COULD have happened, but I am focusing on what DIDN"T happen instead. How grateful I am.

So this evening, I held her a little closer. I kissed her a little more. And Mrs. Roboto cried alot today.

8 years ago

Ted and I have been married for eight years today. We didn't follow along any storybook romance. I met him when he was engaged to another woman and I was eighteen. We remained friends for years and even after eight years of marriage we are still friends.

I have experienced that drippy, blind love where I thought I would die if the other person didn't return my every feeling. I am so much happier now. We see each other's faults and make each other laugh. He irritates me and I reciprocate as much as possible. But in the end, when times get rough or there is something great to share with the world, he is the one I want to run to first.

But, as noted in the pre-nup, I am only willing to hose him off in the yard when he becomes incontinent. Love ya, honey. Happy Anniversary!

3 years ago.....

a little princess joined the ranks of the Porterfields. She took a long time to decide she even wanted to get created. After Daniel was born, we had some turmoil about whether to even have more children. I had originally wanted seven (because I was apparently on the CRACK), four girls and three boys. Sure that was gonna happen! LOL

So after Daniel turned two, we just let nature take its course. If we were blessed with another child we would be grateful. If not, we would be thankful for the ones we had.

Because I had Cory so early in life and Daniel was born one month shy of our 1st year anniversary I felt like I had my answer after a year of "waiting" with no result. So I enrolled in college, another of my lifelong goals I had yet to get around to. It should really have come as no surprise when after the end of the first semester I was pregnant. I had a hunch it was possible and on January 1st, 2004 April and I went shopping. I bought a test but couldn't wait to get home. I found out in the Kohl's restroom in Charleston. So I bought a card and put the test in a bag and took it home to Ted.

The next nine months were full of double cheeseburgers and fries. I loathe McDonald's as a personal choice, but my girl couldn't get enough. Another round of placenta previa to keep me alert and then the news that she was a SHE. Now I love my boys, but I had always wanted a girl. My aunt Suzie had five boys when she wished for one, so my relief was palatable.

Fast forward--- a few weeks before Aurelia was born Ted transferred within his company to be closer to home. His transfer took him to an outside job and required he go to some training out of town. So the doctor scheduled her to be induced on Thursday, August 26, 2004. I felt guilty, but it was a mere one week before her "due date". That also happened to be the first day of school that year. My mom took the older kids to school while Ted and I made our way to the hospital. Everything went well during the day aside from a nurse who was fairly stingy with the stanol/stadol (never sure which). She was delivered facing the ceiling (apparently the cause of all that unfamiliar pain). She was so tiny. Just 6 lbs. 8 oz.

Now she is a big girl. She pees in the potty, sleeps in a big girl bed, eats by herself, and doesn't "really" need me much anymore. But when it comes down to being with me or being alone, she chooses me. I like that.

Happy Birthday, Aurelia Elizabeth Porterfield.

You are loved.

Children (of the corn) LOL

I have to admit something I am not proud of.

I grump too much. I spend too much time thinking of why my oldest son is on my nerves and not enough time appreciating his finer points. Granted, he does stink as a student and occassionally rub my nerves raw with his attitude, but he is overall a really good kid. So I am going to take a little time and indugle in a list of his goodness. I can refer to it later in an effort not to arrange a meeting with his maker. :0)

He is....

kind
generous
loving
moral
faithful
gentle with children (usually)
caring
concerned about others
loyal
intelligent
funny
sweet
helpful
self-reliant
handsome
respectful to everyone outside our home
full of knowledge (that may or may not be useful)
entertaining
healthy and NOT suffering from toe cancer
approachable


Most of all, he is growing up too fast. This year he will be sixteen. The same age I was when he was born. so given all that he COULD be doing to drive me nuts, I should be grateful about the things he ISN'T doing. Thanks Jenny, for the reminders.

Computer a go go

We have been discussing a new computer in our home for a while now. When I started the photo book project for my grandmother and Ted's parents (Ben and Peggy) computer started to take a dive, the deal was sealed. We ordered the new HP last week and they shipped the monitor the other day. As I blog, right this minute, I am being blinded by the new 22" monitor that is ridiculously large. I can't wait for the turbo 'puter to arrive so I can have even less of a clue what to do with it. More features and programs than I will ever need or want to know I am sure. But you can bet even Aurelia will know how to use it straight out of the box. :0)

Night all.

Health watchers

FYI: For those awaiting my test results and health news, my doctor called this evening to ask if I could reschedule my appointment. Apparently, one of his patients has been in danger of going into labor two months early. So of course I said no problem.

On the plus side, this is not the first time my new doctor has called me at my home. He is very personable and good at communication. Great thing to have in a doctor in my opinion.

Great googly moogly

Over the past eight years that Ted and I have been married we have owned over 30 cars. Bear in mind that only 2 of them were driven by myself. Our previous van and my new van. Since these things come in cycles, Ted has decided to sell the three cars he currently has at his disposal and merge into a single car. He has them listed on various forums and in the ad bulletin, but since I have such MASSIVE exposure (LOL) I am listing them here too.

1974 SuperBeetle (Orange)

Subaru Legacy Station Wagon

Subara Impreza 1997

I want him to buy me a school bus so I can paint it irridescent tie dye and install a crazy musical horn!

The grass is always greener

Fair warning, this is a post about bras.



Don't say I didn't warn you.


When I look back at the bony, flat chested girl I used to be, I envy her. But when I happened to BE her, I wanted to have bigger ta ta's. It just seemed like it would be better. WRONG.

Back in the day, I could have easily rolled out of bed, noticed there was no clean laundry and made it through the day without a second thought. No one was going to notice.

These days, no clean laundry incites panic, a search for duct tape, elastic, and cardboard to fashion an emergency replacement. (Not a great one, either.)

So today, after taking the measurements meant to ensure a great fit, I realized I had been wearing the wrong size. So wrong. That means shopping, which is a dreaded, evil enterprise. I took every version of my new true size into that dressing room. I looked on in horror as I realized people actually wear these things AND pay over $30 for them. What the heck. There is also a humbling effect to being trapped in a bra. There is no help to be had then.

After the futile trip, I sat in my car to think.

I have options:
A) surgical removal--- a bit risky, expensive, permanent.
B) go hippie--- I have always aspired to be more hippie than I am. But what if I have to run?
C)a membership to the Y--- my husbands suggestion, not appreciated I might add.
D) keep looking for the magical, mythical, perfect fitting bra

So many wasted years wishing for these things. Maybe I can put them on Ebay.

Mrs. Roboto

I've been thinking alot lately about my emotional demeanor. Dealing with parents in the midst of personal crisis has made me realize how I could appear to the public at large. Recently, a friend of mine described me as a laid back person. I can dig that. It's nice to know. But when things get deep, I seem to have no levels. I either chuckle a really fake chuckle or get the flat expression of a mannequin.

Don't get me wrong, I have the emotions. They just don't translate well. Tears for instance don't show up when it would seem to be appropriate. I feel empathy, sadness, fear, and any other thing that might cause them. They just don't make it to my eyes.

This would lead some to believe that my face is not a window to my soul. OH, but how incorrect that would be. I have a very readable face when it comes to surprise, disgust, confusion, embarassment. Lighter, less emotional things.

My droid alter ego only takes over for the serious stuff. So if you tell me something and I don't seem to be responding in the most sympathetic manner, I swear I get it, I feel it. It's just that I have a broken nuclear punooter valve. :0)

Hubba Bubba

For those who are curious, I had some more tests today. But none of the answers will be shared until the end of this month. When I have them, I will share them.



In the meantime, I need to talk to you about a recurring dream. I've had it several times a month for the last few years. Here is how it starts;



I am doing something mundane. It seems like a good idea to chew some gum. (As a child, I would chew several packs at one time. Greedy, that's me). So, I chew my gum and after a while it either loses its taste or becomes really hard to chew. Seems like a good time to get rid of it, so I try to spit it out. It won't come out. I have to dig chunks of chewing gum out, but there is always more there. Then I wake up.



What do you make of this nonsense?

Trip to the Safari Park

FAME (as pronounce by David Bowie)

Imagine my joy when I returned home from our trip to find an email from Mr. Chinchilla.

He chose me as his first interview for his new blog. YEAH!

You can find that interview right here http://mrchinchilla.blogspot.com/!

One day I will be cool enough to link it with a word or something.

Anyway, this interview started my mind-a-thinkin'. Why do I like blogging so much?

Mostly, I enjoy putting down thoughts that would otherwise escape my brain soon. It will help later in life, when I am trying to show my kids that I actually did stuff that was smart and caring. ISH. But an added bonus is the fame. Not Inside Edition or Entertainment Tonight kind of fame. This kind of blogger fame comes from spilling out whatever is on my mind and someone, somewhere bothering to read it and maybe care.

I know that my blog won't be widely read worldround, but it COULD be. I may get four hits a year or a thousand in one day. The fact that someone on another continent might find my words funny, emotional, smart, goofy, etc... makes me happy. They don't have to leave comments, they may never link to me, I may never cross their minds again. I love that I am able to enlarge the circle of people who are exposed to my thoughts. That is really great.

So read my interview with Mr. Chincilla. Just do it. Thanks.

Confessions of a wannabe

Ecclectic is what I like to call my musical taste. I enjoy all types of music. But I have a confession to make--- I was a Yanni fan. So much so, that I was even tempted to feel a little superior about my musical preferences. I secretly even enjoy a little of it to this day. (Although a little does go a very long way.)

I have been trying to wean myself and the children away from hours of staring at our little idiot box in the living room. Our programming with the dish provides us with some really great XM radio stations that play various decades of music.

The other day, we jammed while made Daniel dance like a puppet. We ranged up and down the years like "the Voyagers" from the '80's. (That reference would be much cooler if I could figure out how to link to things without the huge hyperlink.)

But the day came to a screeching halt after I was able to sing all the words to an undisclosed Bell Biv Devoe song using Daniel's foot as a microphone. I felt that Daniel didn't appreciate the genre when he passed gas and fell into a fit of giggles.

Now we watch "Wow, Wow Wubbzy" with slack jaws and the slightest trace of drool upon our countenance.

SIGH

Just A Swingin'

Many years ago, my family ate at a restaurant with one of those mini-jukeboxes at the tables. My brother and I begged many quarters from our parents and played Jon Anderson's "Just a Swingin' " over and over. It still makes me giggle.

Here is the new SWANG in our backyard.

I'm Right, You're Wrong, Just ask the cat

Not only are the newest additions to our household the cutest things ever, but they help me win arguments.

Since Desmond likes to watch the cursor on the computer screen, I can lead my witness very easily. Just this evening we discussed who he loved more. It was decided with ample conviction that I was the most beloved in the house. We also determined that I was the most slender, the smartest, and the most attractive.

Feel free to email my kittens with questions ( preferrably ones that can easily be answered yes/no, but we are willing to delve into the deeper topics if necessary.)

Now, Desmond wholeheartedly believes that I should have that second bowl of ice cream. He agrees that calories don't exist unless you bother to pay attention. Amen, Desmond, amen.

I am so bored

I left out one of the funnier pieces of my medical trip in the last blog.

Because I have a lower blood pressure, the doctor suggested that I ingest more salt. This was the same thing the doctor told me ten years ago. I was in the hospital and was eating Long John's fish. I tried to hide it when she came in and she said" No. You need to eat more of that!"

JOY!

But ingesting more salt could prove to be difficut (and yes I hear the sighs and grunts from the high blood pressure crowd who would kill for a grain of salt). The problem lies in the current amount of salt I take in.I mentioned to the doctor that the only feasible way for me to get more salt in my diet would be to install a salt lick in my living room. Being a nice and funny doctor, he laughed and suggested that I also duct tape a gerbil bottle to my head to help remind me to drink more water.

In other news, here are photos of my wee pups on a treasure hunt with their daddy.