Photo Blog

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.

medical mumbo jumbo

Some of you may know that I have been seeing the doctor about some recurring UTI's and was sent for a test to determine if I may have diabetes.

Good news! My glucose levels were absolutely normal. Now that this scenario has been eliminated, we move on to more sophisticated tests (renal ultrasound and dye in my kidneys) to really figure this thing out. I am not concerned about what the root of the problem is. I'd like to think that I would know if there was something seriously wrong in my own body. But the tests have been scheduled for August 14th and I would rather not have people poking things hither and yon then. Being the realist that I am, however, I will not reschedule, since the chances of getting the tests on the same day or even in the same month are slim. Smile and wave, boys, just smile and wave.

Our old doctor moved away with his wife and new baby, so I have been rehashing my medical history with our new doctor. He is very nice and willing to give me explanations of things I don't quite grasp (frankly all medical jargon). Because of some palpitations I have been experiencing, I had to let him in on my previously diagnosed heart murmur (mitral valve prolapse) and spells of passing out (due to low blood pressure). He asked if the palpitations felt like my heart was racing. With my great and highly refined descriptive skills I explained that it feels more like a "blub" and then a little light headedness. For these symptoms, I have been scheduled to wear the ever glamorous and totally fashionable halter monitor. An echocardiogram will also give some insight to this cold heart of mine.

Looking at this post, I fear it narcissistic and I apologize. But it is my blog and I have nothing else to report :0).

I will keep you abreast of any new developments. You bunch of sillies.

Similarities

I received an email today listing the things would be memorable for me as a child of the '80's. It started wheels turning in my little mind.

I started to remember the fights between my brother and I over what to watch. Would it be Dukes of Hazzard or Buck Rogers? It often resulted in fisticuffs.

One of the things that just fell out of my train of thought was Ed Grimley. Does anyone else remember Ed? He was the very odd character that Martin Short portrayed on television for a while. There was even an animated version.

Now, while I was thinking about it, it started to dawn on me that he reminded me of someone. Several hours passed before I could nail down exactly who. I am here to report that it is Daniel. My own flesh and blood.

Anyone else? Maybe? Ok, I must say.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-7345112586069731677&q=ed+grimley&total=26&start=10&num=10&so=0&type=search&plindex=5

Super yum (except different)

This is being released as an item to recognize the 30 year anniversary of Elvis's demise.

Super yum---but not.

http://candyaddict.com/blog/2007/06/11/candy-review-reeses-elvis-cup-with-peanut-butter-and-banana-creme/

Party Aftermath

So while we know that birthdays are not all about the presents, these kids still hauled in the loot. We appreciate everyone coming out to celebrate with us and thank them for all of the wonderful gifts. We have tremendous amounts of sugary cake and cupcakes that we will be secretly giving your children in place of their vegetables and proteins! :0)

For those of you who know what a crazy priss pot my sweet potato girl is, the following picture will illustrate her need and appreciation for all that is pink and glam!

BEHOLD,

Why we have birthdays

On our way back from Walmart this evening, Daniel was asking me why we were having his party on his actual birthday instead of the weekend. I was explaining that since we live further from his grandparents and his friends are the ones coming to the party, it was ok to have it during the week. He interrupted me several times to find out if he was still going to get presents if the grandparents weren't there. I said "Yes, but....

the reason we have birthday parties isn't to get presents. We have a party every year to celebrate the day you became our son. We get to have a good time and be happy that you were born, into our family, and that we have been together for another year."

His eyes started to tear up and I thought "Good grief, here we go. Another tantrum."

Instead, he said, "That is so sweet. I always appreciate that they are (his guests) just there. I love you."

Hear that? It's my cold heart melting. Literally---total puddle.

As we rounded the corner, we passed the local ice cream parlor. There was a father outside with two girls (infant and a little younger than Daniel). He carried his beautiful baby in one arm and cradled the back of his older daughters head in his hand as he steered her gently to the car. GULP, SOB, HICCUP.

As caught up in the day to day grind and irritation of raising my kids as I can be, I am officially taking the next few minutes to remember how desperately each of them was wanted. How happily all of them were welcomed into the world and my heart. No video ever captured the secret moments alone with them, when they were fresh and new, that I smelled their baby breath, their sweet necks. But I don't need a visual reminder of how just their little sighs made my heart swell with more love than I ever thought I was capable of. And to think that this endless love could multiply three times over is remarkable.

Below is my birthday boy. Happy Birthday Daniel!

Daniel's first birthday card this year

Passage of Time

I had intended to do a blog that included pictures. But here I am, trapped in my room by a screaming three year old. So I will try to convey in words what I wanted to share with photos. Then I will add them later.

Over the course of this project I am working on for my grandmother there have been many surprises. I have been able to associate faces with names I have heard all of my life but never had any meaning to me. I have been able to peer into the past of my family and get a glimpse of what things were like.

The thing that has struck me the most though is the way time sneaks up on us. I was going through pictures and came upon one of my great grandfather Charlie Holliday. My memories of this man are sweet. He always smelled good and was loveable and proud. He was always old to me, but not in that frail sort of way some older people are. This was my memory. The picture was in his last years, when he was ill and barely able to move. He was in a hospital bed in the dining room of his home and his great grandson Jacob was looking over the railing at him. There was a physical sensation looking at this picture. Mere moments before, I had held a photo of him with his twin brothers as young men. They looked vibrant and full of life.

I think the family I was born into ages rather well. Maybe that is why it surprises me when they start to look their age or even old. My father's pictures were among those that I have been looking at. Seeing him as a little kids, a soldier, a new father, are all images I can deal with. Those even make me smile. Knowing that one day, if we are lucky enough to live long full lives, we will both be shadows of our younger days makes me sad. There is no avoiding it. Would we really want to?

I cannot even imagine what my children will be like at my age. Or my grandmothers age. Or what their children's children will think of our generation.


So as I ponder all this deep stuff I will try to savor my present, not dwell on my past or my future. I will do my best not to wish for those paths left untaken. I will do my best to pass on what I know and still be aware that a century from now it may be as though I never existed.

I hope this makes sense to someone besides myself.

Speaking with authority

This morning Ted slept in. It is the first day back to work and he was dreading it after a week's vacation. Around nine o'clock, Aurelia and I went upstairs to clean up and she climbed on the bed with Daddy.

She had a thin plastic stick (like a pick up stick) and was poking him as he slept. He started to get up. She held out her hand, pushed him back down, struck a pose and said, " It's ok. I am a doctor. You need to go hospital and get operations. We put stitches in your hand." Then she resumed poking him. He didn't seem to appreciate my contribution---that the surgery may just be lyposuction.


After he left for work I made dinner. We are trying to get back into our habit of eating at home. So after the kids and I ate, I packed up his dinner and we drove over to his office. Daniel insisted he be able to roll down the rear van window so he could talk to his Daddy. This consisted of some rather rude noises and nonsense. Finally, he reached out to hug Ted. I said, " Kiss him. Kiss him." Daniel gave me the stare and said quite bluntly, " That is SO unnecessary."

Ok then.

Kings Island

An additional comment about our trip.

We were in Coney Mall and I saw one of the barkers who will guess your age, weight, or birth month within two years, pounds, or months. I thought why not, the worst that could happen is my ego could be crushed.

I walked up and handed my $5 to the guy. He wrote his guess (my age) down and then asked for the correct answer. I told him 32-------------

HE GUESSED 17!!!!

Now realistically, I know he is probably around that age and inexperienced in the world of guesses. It probably helped my cause that I asked my own mother for the money right before his guess. But nevertheless, his guess was FIFTEEN years lower than my actual age!!!

That is a personal memory I will tuck right here and take out every so often and giggle about.

AND YOU CAN"T TAKE THAT AWAY, SO DON"T EVEN TRY!!

:0)

Trippy

This past weekend was a semi-vacation to King's Island in OH with my mother, cousin, myself, and my two older children. These are some of the pros and cons that came with the trip.

Pro....

Aurelia was left with her daddy.

Con...

Aurelia was left with her daddy.

Pro...

She advanced her potty training exponentially while we were gone. There were multiple incidents of self initiated trips to the potty!! Yippee.

Con...

Our oldest was a snot bucket. What do you have to do to get a thank you or a semi kind word from a teenager these days?

Pro...

My highly strung younger son was discovered to be a thrill seeker. He exclaimed how AWESOME many of the adult rides were and wasn't even a little scared.

Con..

He wanted me to ride them too. UGH

Pro..

Got to spend some time with my mom.

Con...

Mom hates parental/child conflict (and there was no shortage.)

Overall, decent trip. A repeat next year? Not so much.

Summer Photo Post

News on the homefront

I love having my plate piled high. One project simply isn't enough for this stellar underachiever.

In the midst of the BIG photo book project, I have taken on a video CD for my Dad of his most recent 517 photos of his cross country trip with my mom and his cousins. That is fast becoming the slowest project in history (due to the file size of the pics).

Since school starts soon, it is also necessary to get cracking on the potty training. The first diaper free day went well. NO ACCIDENTS!! Yesterday was a little less successful after the deposit of urine in a couple of corners. But we are staying positive and focused.... sort of.

As a reward/incentive (Mommy indulgence), we welcomed two beautiful kittens into our family this week. They are brother/sister buff colored sweeties. Much debate was had over their naming, but this morning it was made permanent. They are now Desmond and Molly Kitty. (Other names in the running were Sugar and Spice, Bread & Butter, Benny & Joon, and Cornbread & Tatertots.)

I will be wrapping up my first case with CASA soon. I must say it was challenging and rewarding. I was glad to have met all of the people involved. Now I must prepare myself to let these children out of my mind and focus on the next case. I believe that will be the hardest thing in the future. Transition.

In the meantime, I ask all who enter my home to alert me to any odors I may not be noticing. New kittens and a potty training 3 year old distract a person. Thanks in advance.

Have a great day and happy blogging!

things that make you go HMMM?!

The sorting done, I have delved into the task of scanning the photos into my computer. This job is tedious and better suited for a trained monkey. But two of the pictures have grabbed my attention and I would like to share them with you blog readers.

The first one is of a little boy. His expression is somewhat unhappy to say the least. When I first saw it, I thought to myself, he is having a bad day. But I am sorry to report that all of his pictures turn out that way. I am not revealing his name just in case.

He is one toddler SERIOUSLY in need of a cookie.

The second picture illustrates to me the sheer lunacy of mortality. Perhaps we are concerned with the legacy we leave behind. Maybe we care about enjoying our lives while they are here to enjoy. Whatever the case, this man, was once someone's son. I apologize in advance, but the distance of time and never having known this person lends a slight bit of humor to the off the wall tidbit on the back of his picture,

The caption simply states his name and "Died in a bread mixer."

Now, death is never funny. But surely there was some other life event that could have made it onto the back of a photograph as a descriptive marker for this suave gentleman.

I hear the scanner warming up. I guess I had better eat my banana and get back to work.

Book of memories

Over the years I have tackled big projects. I have learned to crochet the basics from a book over a weekend. I have organized my dad's first ever birthday party. One year all of our Christmas cards (over 300) were addressed and stamped in JULY. I try to finish my seasonal shopping before the first frost. But this is the BIGGEST project I have ever tackled.

You can't tell by my current house status, but I used to reorganize my mothers kitchen. I used to clean my granma's house every weekend. Now I organize in my head and leave it there. But my grandmother and her new husband are moving. That gives me the prime opportunity to lay my hands on all of her pictures under the premise of compiling a book of memories.

Initially, I just sorted everything into black and white and color photos. Now a more complete thought is forming about sections of the book: portraits, weddings, babies, family photos, candids. But my grandmother has thousands of pictures. Not to mention the duplicates. So if you don't see me for awhile or if I look a little ragged, it is because I am undertaking the task of my life. Thank you for your patience.

Got Camp?

I am the queen of camp. My oldest has been signed up for five camps this summer. The middle one had a week of camp. I wanna know when they will sign Aurelia up for camp.

The great thing about camps for the older one is that some are free. Others are not, but still relatively cheap. There was only one fairly expensive one. But on average, we are getting five weeks of him being fed, bathed, and entertained for a fraction of what we could do it for here.

I mean have you seen the kid eat?

Mixed Mommy

My recent volunteer work has been a mixed bag of blessings.

I have had the opportunity to get out and take action about things that gnaw at my soul. I have been able to see firsthand how important my being able to stay home and take care of my own three kids is. Feeling like I am making any difference while being able to balance it with them is wonderful.

The different thoughts come out when I realize that I don't enjoy playing. When I say that out loud, it sounds like I don't enjoy my children. What I don't enjoy is the actual playing part (watching cartoons, dress up, park playing, pretend games). I didn't enjoy group play as a child. I don't like the outdoors unless I am alone or with sedate group on a mild day. What I do enjoy is the joy my children have when I do those things with them. As much as I personally dislike the activities, knowing that when they grow up they can hold on to memories of us together doing things they liked to do makes me happy.

Then I begin to think of the time that I will be released from this obligation. When cartoons and tea parties and endless conversations about non existent people will be a thing of the past. The part where my life becomes mostly my own again. I long for it and I dread it simultaneously. It will mean my babies don't need that part of me anymore. I will miss them. We will have different relationships and they will grow away from me in ways that will break me. But they will grow. And I will remember how I smelled their hair, marveled at the chunk and smooth of their baby cheek, kissed away boo-boo's, fixed broken toys, mended wounded feelings, explained new things. Maybe they will remember some of it too.

When they fly the nest, I will be beyond ready to pursue a career. I worked before the kids, but never enjoyed my jobs. I had moments in most all of the jobs I held that were enjoyable, but I wasn't making a difference or doing anything I felt important about. I let my mind wander to saying things like "I have to go to a conference." "I'll be away on a business trip that week." "I'll check my calendar, but my secretary will know for sure." Adultish, career-like sentences that don't include references to bowel movements, boogers, imaginary friends. I will enjoy the wide variety of positions that are available with my chosen path. I will savor every moment. But I will know in my heart that this job I have now, the one that tires me out, that really sticks it to me, is the one that defines me. I won't have a retirement party, no goodbye cake, it will just fade into a new part of our life. I'll be free as I weep with joy/sadness.

Am I the only one?

AQUATARD

After having a hysterectomy and not being in the best of shape to begin with, I thought I would give a different kind of swimsuit a try. I had heard a celebrity refer to http://www.junonia.com/ where active ladies over size 14 can by clothing.

I located a suit called an Aquatard. My initial thought was I could turn it into my superhero name and it would be so fitting. Then I noted the wonderful concealing qualities of the suit. It was even in my price range (for their purple 1x, only).

I sent away for the suit and went about my merry way. When it arrived on the UPS truck, I was giddy. Ted was home and I decided to try it on and ask his opinion. I could not get this suit designed for active ladies over size 14 that should have fit come up past my knees. I knew it should be snug, but if that bad boy ever had to be put on or taken off wet there were going to be paramedics involved.

Luckily, I thought ahead and knew their return policy. I packed it on up and sent that thing back.

Now for the visual......

Lighter moments

I have three unrelated stories of varying humor.

1. Over this past year, I have received numerous thank you cards, notices, and invitations from actual teachers with fairly common words that are misspelled. The most recent was the word definitely. Spelled definately. I have even gone so far as to correct a teachers spelling on the dry erase board in my son's first grade class. I could not help myself. But I still have to give the teachers their props. I haven't got the patience to deal with the little creatures. And I would be teaching them new words that would offend no matter how they were spelled.

2. On a trip to Bob Evans with my mother a while back we fought over the check as usual. My mother is notorious for snapping bones in the wrestle for a bill. Like a meal at Bob's is going to bankrupt whoever she is with. She won that round and traipsed her gloating heiny right up to the cashier. She placed the bill and $21 on the counter. The woman just looked at her expectantly. Mom looked back at her quizzically. Mom was waiting for her receipt and the cashier was waiting for the rest of the bill. My poor mother had given quite a tip, the only problem was she was paying the time stamp on the bill. (It is recorded in military time and was something like $18.26). We laughed so hard in the car that adult diapers were needed.

3. My recent volunteer work has led me to some mentoring opportunities with teens. A local bus driver was already doing some of this work and brought me in under his wing. On my first day, I was winding down a session with three girls. The man popped in to say it was time for them to change classes. The dark haired girl in the trio said she had to do a report on Harriet Tubman, so I piped up and offered my tidbit of knowledge. "Maybe I can help you get some extra credit. I happen to know that Harriet Tubman was narcoleptic. She was struck in the head with a weight by a former owner when she was a child." The girl stared at me blankly. The blonde on her right said after a moment,"Does that mean she steals stuff?" I explained that no, she didn't steal things. She would fall asleep at awkward and unpredictable times. Then the girl on the far right said "I wonder if she fell asleep on the road?"

The bus driver said without a flicker of humor "Nah, if she was that bad off, they wouldn'ta give her a drivers license."

No one in that room registered even the most remote flicker of knowing how wrong that was. Harriet Freaking Tubman?! The Underground Railroad?! Really, noone. Are you serious?

Alrighty then!

Sobering Moments

Finding out your well-liked physician is leaving the state to start a practice fifty miles away.

Discovering your pregnant, close enough to your own height friend is still 31 pounds lighter than you are.

Having to tell your husband that the surgery induced lovefest injunction that was lifted less than a week ago will have to be reinstated because I am a UTI wonderland.

When people you love pass away and you can't remember when you last saw them.