Aurelia's school pics from 2009

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Originally uploaded by hippoxmas

My baby graduates from her preschool entirely this year. She will begin kindergarten in the fall as her older brother enters college. Man, oh man... are we in for it!! LOL

Prom Picture

Prom Picture
Originally uploaded by hippoxmas

My sweet boy at his senior prom. I tried to convince him that a tux was a good choice, but in the end he opted for what you see there. He's making his "I'm a total cheese" smile... :0)

Upcoming Events

My oldest graduates from high school on May 30th at Big Sandy Superstore Arena at eleven am. It doesn't seem possible. It seems like it was just 3:44 pm October 5, 1991 yesterday. That tall brooding man that lurks around my house can't possibly be the sunshine haired boy that brought me rainbow pictures and talked with a lisp when his teeth fell out. He can't be the same boy that loved to cuddle and read bedtime stories and sing and dance with me in the living room like crazy people. But he is. Just bigger, more distant, more ready to roll his eyes at me. But every time he does... I have an image of him in my mind... running across our yard, laughing his fool head off, yelling "Mommy, Mommy!" Oh the bittersweet heartache of watching my child grow into a man. Cory---even when I am upset with you, disappointed, angry... know always that I am proud of you, that I love you and I am looking forward to seeing what you do with your life because I know it's going to be gooood!

Aurelia on a pony

Aurelia on a pony
Originally uploaded by hippoxmas

My sweet girl on a pony ride at her school carnival this year. Now I have a photo of all my kids on a pony....

Hither and yon

Way back when I was a teensy person, I started staying weekends with my grandparents. I would stay on Saturday nights and my brother would stay Fridays. My brother would hang out with my Pawpaw and I would cling to my Mawmaw. I would follow her around, asking her questions from her big question book, cleaning her glass tables, rearranging her newspapers, arranging her Wild Wonderful West Virginia magazines in the correct order. The high stools at her kitchen bar would turn and I remember spinning until I was dizzy. Every meal was fried ham and macaroni and cheese (because I am a picky picky girl) and breakfast was either canned biscuits or frozen waffles. As a kid, everyone always told me how much I looked like my dad (still do). But my dad has three sisters and I formed a working kid theory that his youngest sister must be my real mom (how else could I look so much like them all) and had given me to my parents to raise. That's the way my mind worked... there was always some other thing in the regular things... My aunt Penny, real name Cheryl, was always something of a mystery to me. She had moved out of state before I was born and that alone was enough to make me think about her every day. Mawmaw had told me once or twice about what she did for a living (travel related.. very exciting), and that she had been a hand model once and had even competed in the Miss USA (or Miss America ?) with Vanna White... Oh dear god, that woman was enchanting. My other aunts (my mom had six sisters) were amazing to me too, but they were all so close in proximity to me that they were everyday amazing. Penny was a goddess to me. I never aspired to be pretty or fashionable or adventure-seeking. I was content to be me, wallflower extrordinaire, jeans and tshirt girl, ponytail, sans makeup, nose in book. But on the rare occasions I would pretend, it was always Penny I was pretending to be. The hand model thing stuck in my mind (Palmolive commercial, maybe) and even though my hands were scratched and the joints were swollen, I could look at my long fingers and pretend that they would be perfect for that sort of thing. I would write letters, pages long, to Penny about what I was doing in my boring life. I never sent them. It was too boring. :0) Now in my life, I still think about her everyday. She still seems more exciting, exotic, and well-traveled than I will ever be. But I am thankful for the getting to know her part. When she calls or emails, I don't feel like a little kid writing her a secret letter about her boring life. We talk. We converse. Because she is three dimensional to me now. She is a person, not an idea. And I love her even more.

I desperately want to blog about the Folk Sampler broadcast that I heard tonight on the way home from Charleston (it was the Mother's Day songs...), but I cannot link to it and I am losing the battle with sleep.

Reminder to self... I also want to blog about Appalachia and the things that make me part of it.

Update: Here is the link to the playlist for that broadcast.

http://www.candacecorrigan.com/songs/mixed/mothersblues.mp3.

Michael Thomas “Mike” Ray, 38, of Charleston gained peace with God and passed away, surrounded by his loving family, Monday, May 4, 2009, at a CAMC Hospital.
Mike was born May 19, 1970, in Charleston and was a son of Susan Perrow Ray of South Charleston and the late Donald Allen Ray.
Mike was a member of Rock Lake Presbyterian Church, South Charleston. He was a 1988 graduate of George Washington High School and 1993 graduate of WVU with a physical education degree. He was employed by Means Landscaping Company.
Besides his father, Mike was preceded in death by his paternal grandparents, Tom and Lucille Ray; and maternal grandparents, Bill and Louise Perrow.
He is survived by his mother, Susan. Mike was a wonderful and proud dad of his children: two daughters, Gretchen Ann and Emily Elizabeth; and one son, Michael Thomas II. They were the light of his life.
Also surviving are four brothers and their families, Jeff, his wife, Sandi, and their children, Amber and Morgan, of Charleston, Donald, his wife, Lisa, and their children, Greg and Trenton, of Pearisburg, Va., Doug, his wife, BJ, and their children, Kelly and Holly, of McKinney, Texas, and John, his wife, Carol, and their children, Devon and Dylan, of Indianapolis, Ind.; and several aunts, uncles and cousins.
A tribute to Mike's life will be held at 7 p.m. Friday, May 8, at Rock Lake Presbyterian Church with the Rev. Rick McGuire officiating.
The family will receive friends one hour prior to the service at the church.
The family wishes to extend a special thanks to the Rev. Rick McGuire for his love and support and the many friends and neighbors who have shared their hearts and concern.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made to Rock Lake Presbyterian Care Fund, Ray Memorial, 905 Village Drive, South Charleston, WV 25309, for the Ray children's future needs. The church will be administering these funds by custodial accounts. Envelopes will be made available at the church.
Condolences may be sent to the family by visiting www.hardingfamilygroup.com.
Harding Funerals & Cremations, 514 50th St. SE, Kanawha City, is serving the Ramsey family.
John 14: 1, “Let not your heart be troubled.”

Today's ponderings

Why does my dog want to run full speed down the street only when I am wearing the pants that are loose?

Why does my teenage son schedule a follow-up visit with the Mormon elders that stop by when I am not home?

In times of grief and sadness, I find my natural tendency toward humor to be less than useful.

Does anyone besides Daisy believe the streamers on Aurelia's bike are edible?

:0)

How to get worked over by a teenager

First you tell them something that is irrevocable. You stress how irrevocable it is. You really make it clear. Then you wait.

Months later, confusion will show its head. There will be a story about something Dad may or may not have said and how it might have been translated. A girl will have been invited to her senior prom. A mother's guilt will take over.

Then you will tell your teenage son that he may go to the prom he had been forbidden to go to because of his devil lies. BUT you hold your ground and insist that even if there is a pre or post prom party, he may not go. He may take the girl to dinner, but if she wants to party it up outside the perimeters of the prom, not our problem.

Then you spend the rest of the evening trying to make the son feel guilty. It does not work. Hang head in defeat, walk away.

;0)

Slow ride home

Apparently the slowdown on I-64 this evening during my ride home was due to a body being found by the interstate inside a trash can and duct taped.

The story is here!

Vacations are heaven, travel is HELL

We returned from our long awaited vacation on Saturday evening. Our travel time was approximately eleven hours.... with two children under the age of 10 in the backseat. Making barely audible noises, fighting, farting, telling bad jokes, fighting, sniffing, being hungry, and overall driving us up a wall. We had a great time at the beach and have decided our next family vacation (Aurelia says we will go to the desert) will be taken by plane!

Top Ten Porterfield Field Trip MUST HAVES

10. Snacks----easy to eat, minimal mess, munchies... the kids like cheese sticks, cereal, bread, and anything manufactured under the Little Debbie brand name.

9. Comfortable clothes.... no crotch eating jeans, no hot shoes. It's gym shorts and worn out shirts all the way....

8. Simple packing... it all has to fit in the trunk and I don't really care how that happens. I have never met a wrinkle I truly hated and I don't believe I'll start now.

7. Leg room... goes with simple packing... NOTHING can be in the leg room... it must all fit in the trunk...

6. Functioning A/C.... I know when we were young the windows could be rolled down and the air would flow through our hair and we would feel so much COOLER, but I am flying across several states at 60-75 mph and I want to be cool for real...

5. DVD player.... kids are like drunks in d/t's after a couple hours with no visual stimulation save for the roadside livestock and dilapidated buildings.... thanks heavens for the digital age.

4. Map.... preferrably directions, a sense of direction, or something remotely kin to those things would also accompany an actual paper map. GPS is great when you can figure out how to use it, where you are in relation to whatever it is telling you, or if you haven't wandered off the face of the planet accidentally.

3. MP3 players, audiobooks, playaways, crayons, .... necessary for the under 10 crowd to secure their safety.

2. Potty breaks.... I have an iron bladder...I work in an office where the only bathroom is reached through two locked doors, a keypad, a padlock and climbing over yard equipment... but I need me a potty break.... gotta stretch the legs... breathe that polluted highway air... be tempted to sit, but always squat....ahhh... the beloved rest area...

1. D-R-A-M-A-M-I-N-E...... in any form, under any brand name, Dan the man must have this wonder of the drug age, lest we should be forced to adhere a chuck bucket to his face with a heavy duty adhesive (aka DUCK TAPE). No one wants to see the man get motion sickness... and he has been sick on a drive from here to Charleston (which is about as straight as you can get in the hills of West Virginny). TWICE....

We will be enjoying our extended family time with four generations under one roof... Many pictures will be taken and shared.... Have a happy Spring Break!!

FOUND

She was located several blocks away this evening. She was missing her collar and tags, but seems otherwise unscathed!! Happy day!!

MISSING

Last night at around 9:30, Daisy went missing off of our front porch. She had been outside for less than 10 minutes on her lead to go potty. She should still have her green collar with her pink heart ID tag on that has her name and our contact information. I have placed a missing dog ad in the Herald Dispatch and with Little Victories. I was able to place a missing dog ad on Petfinders (our local animal shelter uses that service to show the pets they have available). I have a huge gripe about our local shelter. I called yesterday to report that our local deviants had returned to their rental house with the pit bulls that were removed from them on the 18th of the month. I called no less than a dozen times and there was NO ANSWER.... not even an answering machine. Later in the afternoon, it was necessary to call 911 to report the unmuzzled pooches were out of the crates and walking about again. When they paged animal control and I finally spoke with someone, I was told the "owners" had come in to claim three out of the four dogs that were removed. WTF?!! No one from animal control came by that I am aware of. Definitely not in the time frame needed to get those dogs back into reasonable custody. Now understand that I have nothing against the breed of dog, but these idiots were keeping them in crowded conditions and manufacturing drugs to boot... it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know they were not given the best life. I'd like someone to explain to me why I have to call 911 to get a response from animal control before 5 o'clock. Why is there no hotline, no answering machine, no anything? If those dogs had been attacking someone, or if there was a true animal control emergency, what then? I would have to call 911 and get a response by phone more than a half hour later??? And to beat the band, now that I am trying to report my own sweet puppy missing, there is still no answer.... NO ANSWER. I cannot even check to see if anyone brought her in to their office, because no one can be reached...

If you see Daisy, please let me know. We love her and miss her and would like to have her back before we go on vacation. Thank you.

Happy Happy Joy Joy

The plague has been making its way slowly round our neighborhood. I thought we had dodged the bullet of sickness for the winter, until Aurelia developed a 104 fever a while back. She rallied after a few days of reclining on the couch in fevered Victorian fashion, with her pale white skin and her fluttery movements to indicate her needs. The following weekend, I developed some sort of head cold thing that fortunately lasted just a little while. Aurelia then fell back into her sickbed. Daniel followed suit after dropping a padlock on Aurelia's head in our back playroom. Apparently he caught the attention of good ol' karma. I think everyone is on the mend, but both are still home with Ted today. It strikes me that each time the children get sick, Ted and I develop the stomach whirlies. Not sickness, but we are tensed and ready for getting our fair share of the pukes, which by default makes us a little queasy. It's raining today, and that makes it just a little harder to find that peaceful sunny spot in my soul that reminds me how fortunate we are and thankful we should be. But I am determined to find that spot, bask in my good life, and come away at the end of the day with a sunny disposition... rain and sickness, be damned!

Silly Rabbit

Each evening on my way to bed, I stop in to check on the little ones. I usually turn off Aurelia's fake fish tank, resituate her blankets, and brush the hair out of her face. Daniel usually reads at bedtime, so I turn off his lamp and move the stack of pillows from under his head. Last night, as I moved the pillows, he started talking. Most of it was unintelligible, but I caught "changing into the Earth/dirt." Not sure if he was awake, I said "Huh?"... He shifted in the bed... and then mumbled for 30 seconds about.........chipmunks. That was the only clear word I caught, but it was repeated over and over. I have never laughed so hard, so silently, for fear of waking him. When I told him about it this morning, on the way to school, I wished I could bottle up that laugh he has!!

The day has come

Anyone who has known me for very long will know that this is something I never thought I would say........ "Can you help find a cheerleading class/group?"

Now there is nothing wrong with cheerleading, but I have never been girly. NEVER....

My daughter, on the other hand, was born with a powder puff in one hand and pom pom in the other.....

Spaghetti Dinner and Book Fair

My son's school has an annual spaghetti dinner and book fair. I applaud the resourcefulness of raising money this way, but I personally despise spaghetti. If they had pizza, I would be in like Flynn, but spaghetti makes me gag a little just thinking about it. My son likes spaghetti at home, but at school he just eats the noodles plain... even grosser. And the book fair that accompanies this dinner gives me pause. The term "book fair" to me means that there should be books, not junk erasers, high dollar toys, light up pens, scented pencil sharpeners, etc... I have to tell my son every time they gear up to sell him these things that the money I have provided is to be used for books only. He pouts, I pout, we gnash teeth.. and generally I find some piece of dollar store junk stashed in his back pack anyway... OR a book about farts, a book with a toy on it, a book about the most annoying cartoon character currently in fad. WHY must we need to tell the children to only buy books? WHY can't the book fair JUST be books? I really think it isn't that much to ask...

Things you might not know.... (sorry it's so long)

I have three kids. They are all spread out in age and don't have a huge amount in common, other than the fact that they are all my kids. Having the kids was the best thing I have ever accomplished, personally. But along the way there were bumps in the road and things that scared me. While everything has worked out just fine, I thought I would share a little....

ADAM
I found out I was pregnant with Cory at age 15 and he came into the world shortly after I turned 16. That would be enough of a fright for just about anyone who has no job, no life experience, no business having a baby... but that pregnancy was the easiest I ever had. I don't ever remember being sick. I was excited to have him, not about the circumstances, but about him. I used to lay on my bed and talk to him and put my headphones on my belly. I tried my hardest to be careful with him and do what I was supposed to do to take care of him. I had made the decision early on not to circumcise him and that I would breastfeed. I read articles about child development and considered all my options. Reading and making decisions about my baby to be were easy because it was abstract. There was no baby to mess up yet. He came into the world as a 8 lb 6 oz strawberry blond, blue eyed angel. From the second I laid my eyes on him, my heart hurt with the love I had for him. But love alone can't make a good parent. He started having trouble with his digestion really early on. I had to stop breastfeeding, we switched formulas, and had to call the paramedics when he inhaled his own projectile vomit. I was scared. I was certain I couldn't do it. One evening, my friend from across the street came over to meet him. I had been sitting in the chair holding him on my shoulderand he was asleep. I leaned forward to show her his face, but he didn't stir. A few minutes later, I gently bounced him in my hands to see if she could see his beautiful eyes. He didn't stir. Determined, I bounced a little more.... we couldn't wake him up. As we rushed to the hospital, my teenage mind was fixated on a kitten that had died on me the previous summer. I kept saying, wailing, moaning... "I can't even keep a cat alive." My mother told me to shut up, he was going to be fine. The doctors ran tests. One of the tests involved barium (that stuff is nasty). They had to remove the barium from his stomach with a tube up his nose... I had to leave the room, go down the hall to keep from hurting the nurse... because I knew she had to do it and I had to let her. The next morning he went to surgery.. my baby, four weeks old... they sliced his belly open, just a little, but really how can it be just a little at four weeks, to fix his pyloric stenosis... (that's affects the tube leading out of the stomach). They told me it was most common in first born males. I held him after surgery, aimed the oxygen at his nose. My parents went home. I was alone with him. Those were the minutes, hours, days that I knew I couldn't buckle.. I couldn't be weak and fail. I had to do the best I had in me to make it good for him. We'll both tell you I haven't been perfect, but everything I have ever done regarding him has been affected by how scared I was in those minutes, hours, days.

DANIEL
Being older, married, with more experience helped in being able to share my joy with others about this pregnancy, but it was by far and away the most miserable physically. I was sick as a dog. So sick I tore my esophagus from puking. But when he was born, I had that same heartache of love. That your chest nearly explodes with it just by looking at them. I knew pretty early on that something with Daniel was different. He slept alot more than Cory ever did. He was so laid back, but he hated riding in the car. He preferred being left alone in his bed instead of being rocked to sleep. As he got older, his eccentricities became more noticeable... he's more emotional, more skittish, more singleminded about his interests. But he has always been my boy. He tells me I give the warmest hugs. He always wants to smell my hair. (Cory always twirled it). He laughs the biggest, deepest, most sincere laughs. But as time passes at school his peers have bypassed him in some of the more finely tuned social skills. He's forgotten his milk money, a friend sat somewhere different, the noise was too much... so he freezes. As a family, we are struggling with how to make it all better. My husband has found it difficult to be ok with calling it what it is. Asperger's. From some viewpoints, it may seem like he is being willful or trying to get out of things. Sometimes he might be. But other times he just can't process things the way average people do. We've made the decision not to tell him about the specifics. At his age, it is too much information. When he is older, we will, but for now he is just a boy who needs a little extra sometimes. The response I have gotten when I have told people has varied. The most stunning response to me is the sympathetic look or the assumption that it must be difficult. My boy hasn't changed. He is my boy... freckles, sweet, warm hug loving, kind to people, doe-eyed, tender hearted.... The diagnosis only helps me help him in school. It makes other people aware of how to have interactions with him that will benefit them both. It's just a different way of being... not a catastrophe. And quite frankly, I like him this way. I don't who he would be without it, but I know I couldn't love him more.

AURELIA
She was the baby I didn't think I was going to have. I had wanted a girl the first two times, I was 29, we'd tried for a while to have another. I had started college believing it wasn't going to happen again. But then at the end of the first semester there was that familiar feeling and BAM... we were expecting. I was sick while I was pregnant with her too, but not nearly as much as with Daniel. I craved nasty, greasy double cheeseburgers from the revolting Mickey D's. The slew of tests that pregnant women endure these days went well. Until they called me at home to tell me that my chance of having a baby with Down's syndrome was significantly elevated (according to one of the tests). I was told I had several options: I could end the pregnancy, have an amniocentisis that might hurt the baby, or have measurements taken by ultrasound. Now, my husband and I immediately agreed there would be no ending the pregnancy and amnio was too risky just to know something that couldn't be changed. So I had the ultrasound the following day ( I already had an appt). The hours between the call and the ultrasound were filled with fear, anxiety, endless thoughts of not if, but how, I would be a good mother for a special needs child. Saying it and thinking it are easy, doing it is REAL... I think my major concerns weren't if she could ever live on her own, spell her name, or be accepted by small-minded people, but if she would have heart problems that are associated with Down's. I was terrified. But the ultrasound was done and all the measurements indicated she would be fine. Then my labor was induced a week before her due date. Not because of complications, but because my husband worked for a company that kept saying he was going to be out of town for that week for training. The guilt I had over that inducement has only increased over the years... especially since he didn't ever get sent out of town. She was born facing the ceiling, instead of the ground, so her face was dragged across my pelvic bones and you can still see a mark above her lip and on her forehead. I worry that she will hate those marks. She was tiny. 6 1/2 lbs when her brothers were both over 8 lbs. She was the only baby who had a nursery ready when she came home. I decorated and cleaned and organized.... She had to go back to the hospital several times to get her foot jabbed because she was jaundiced. I nearly fainted. She wasn't very old when we became concerned about a ridge along the top of her skull. She had to have a scan of her skull to see if her fontanella was fusing too soon. The first time she went (she has always been a firecracker) she refused to lay still, because she couldn't get her finger in her mouth... she chews her pointer finger. She crooks it and shoves it in her mouth and you can hear her chew it. It is so gross. So they scheduled another time to come back, drug her, scan her head and be done. They gave that tiny, tiny girl the drugs.. twenty minutes later she was still not down for the count. It did finally kick in enough that they could do the scan... but she was never sedated... she couldn't stand being strapped in. My beautiful, fiery red headed, brown eyed sweetpea was fine on all counts.

This entry is most likely the longest I have ever had, but I had so much to share... I didn't even get it all in. Really I just wanted to vent a little... but I can't remember why...

Stuff

We have renamed our sweet puppy, Daisy. It seemed the most likely thing that I would be willing to yell down the street should she get loose. Ted makes fun because she lays in my lap like a baby and is so spoiled. She did make a major accomplishment this morning by making it through the night without peeing in her crate. We had been settled into a routine of getting up, walk the dog, bathe the dog, wash the crate, get dressed, be late for work. I certainly hope she repeats the progress this evening...

Ted and I are joining our friends in a trek to Charleston over the weekend to see Rodney Carrington. You just have to love a guy who will sing about his penis while surrounded by inflatable penises.. or is it peni? :0)

Adam has a teen leader charting weekend at Jackson's Mill over the weekend, so I will be doing alot of traveling. We are about to find out if sweet Daisy is a good traveler or if she gets carsick... stay tuned.