Bridal Shower

Lauren, Christina, Sarabeth, Elisabeth

Homecoming

David & Hilary

Did I mention Christopher was here for the weekend?

Christina, Sarabeth, Hilary, David, Christopher, Elisabeth

Ethan didn't want to be in the picture, but I snuck him in as he rode by.

The Parents (after a long day.)

Nights In Rodanthe

Michael and I have a date night coming up. I was perusing Mile High Mama's when I noticed a drawing for tickets to the premiere of Nights in Rodanthe. I'd seen the previews, commenting to my hubby how much I'd like to see it. So I entered the contest. I won! Today I not only received tickets to the premier but a copy of Nicholas Sparks book. How awesome is that? I can't remember when Michael and I last went to a movie together. I'll let you know what I think on September 24th! If you're wondering what moms in the Mile High City are like, you might want to check out Mile High Mama's.

I Am Alive

I didn't mean to leave you all hanging from my last post. I have 5 posts sitting in my drafts box yet uncompleted. I hope to finish them at some point.

My Monday Menu should be up at Recipes4Me

I almost have my kitchen completed. Michael finished hanging the cabinet doors yesterday. I tried to get a photo yesterday but it was cloudy and rainy. Having a darker color doesn't show the beauty in poor lighting. But I love them and my new floor. I'm just not sure why or how home projects grow as soon as we are in the midst of them. Is it just me or does this happen to everyone???

I'll post better photos later, but this give you an idea. Here is a better pic of the color on the doors:
I spent most of last week painting Hilary's room. She wanted pink of some sort. We went with Flaming Flamingo, or something close to that. That project grew too. Remember this room? It isn't finished yet either. But here is a preview, and yes, I will get the blinds up in the windows. I ran into a problem with that too.
Doesn't flaming flamingo describe it well? I'm off to scrub the pink off my arms, legs, fingernails, etc.

Things Happen

Sigh. Can I just sigh big sighs over and over???

My trip to Arizona was mostly because I hadn't been there in 20 months. On top of that, my mom has been having some medical issues. I am not happy with the care that she has received from the medical professionals. They seem rather incompetent.

I questioned whether or not I should be returning home. (I had so hoped my home projects would be finished. You know, the ones started a month ago.) But nope. Not done. My sister phoned the day after I returned to let me know I'd made a good choice. Mom was doing great. Two hours later, she called to say the paramedics were taking mom to the hospital as soon as she was stable. Both sisters and my brother were there.

One sister had to leave to pick up kids from school. The other got a call that her son had an accident. He was in the ER 2 1/2 hours away. The plastic surgeon would be there shortly. Could she make it by then? (This is the sister that reassured me I did well going home, but maybe it was because I was staying at her home.) Maybe she really just didn't like me using her hand towels the way I did, lol.

I have a LOT to say about the upcoming election, but will save it for another post.

(Note to self: After filling the crockpot in the morning, always check to make sure it is turned on. Hours later after working on a project that feels like it will never be finished, a completed meal will be a nice change from a slow cooker that is cold with food sitting uncooked.)

Houseguest

What is the saying about fish & houseguests? After 3 days...something about the stench.

Last Wednesday, as I contemplated taking a road trip alone to the desert heat of Arizona, I received a call. My sister thought it silly for me to drive. She works for an airline. Michael thought I was nuts too. He figured out the cost of gas for my trip, added it to the extra 2 days travel time to drive and shook his head in amazement at my stubborness. People. I really LIKE driving my car.

My sister was convincing. Her phone call was placed at 11:00a.m. I was at the airport by 4:30p.m. While waiting to board the plane, I quickly phoned my other sister to inquire about her guest room. I can't remember the last time I stayed at Carolyn's home. Not only do my sisters, brother & parents live in Phoenix, but my son does too. (He happens to be living in the grandparent's spare bedroom.) A spare bedroom. Imagine that! With 5 children, an extra bedroom exists only in my dreams. (Ok, now that 2 kids live elsewhere, I do have a spare bedroom. It is decorated with Spiderman & Transformers, reserved for Ethan.)

Carolyn graciously extended her hospitality. The next morning, after enjoying a good cup of coffee and catching up with my sister, I hopped in the shower. I completely forgot about the linen closet in the hallway. I pulled back the shower curtain. Hmm...this would not do. In case you can't see, there is a hook hanging very nicely. That is where my towel should be hanging. I am clueless when it comes to guest bathrooms.

Considering the very real possibility of having to drip dry, I scanned the horizon for any other option. Besides a single roll of toilet paper, I found a solution:

I really should have tried harder to lose weight before making this trip. How does one explain to her hostess the puddles of water and the wrung out, wrinkled, soaking wet hand towel?

I hope my sister lets me stay again. I really don't like being compared to fish. Fish like water.

Swimming Anyone?

I'm having Ethan withdrawals. (And would you look at that sky!?)

Democratic National Convention

The DNC is in Denver. I am not. I escaped the madness.

Fwd: To Whom It May Concern

Are you a person who loves to forward emails of anecdotal stories, political statements, feel-good poems, and the like? Can you enjoy the sentiment of a story without regards to whether or not it is accurate?

If that is the case, you are welcome to forward these to me. But I am not one of the aforementioned people. If a story is inaccurate or contains erroneous information, I will reply to your email with proper corrections. (Have you noticed the screen name I use for posting?) If the language or joke is crude or vulgar, I will inform you of its offensive nature. Or if I disagree with the intent of the email, I most likely will address that also.

If you do not appreciate correction, are offended by my response, and merely want to enjoy the feelings of satisfaction the forwarded email brings to you, then please do not send me forwarded emails. It will save me the time spent researching and writing a response & your hurt feelings will be spared.

Sincerely,
Truth

Happy Birthday Lauren!

Lauren, in just 52 days, you will officially be joining the family. I'm so excited to welcome you as my one and only daughter-in-law. Love you, and have a very happy birthday!!!

Monday Menu

(This is posted to Recipes4me also)
Every Monday Mylinda posts her menu. I'm finally joining her! It originates from I'm An Organizing Junkie

Saturday:
Chicken Taco Soup, Salad with Tomatoes & Avocado

Sunday:
Ham w/Scalloped Potatoes, Fresh Fruit, Bread Sticks

Monday:
Chicken Pasta w/Spinach & Sundried Tomatoes, French Bread

Tuesday:
Easy Chicken Stir-Fry, Rice, Pot Stickers

Wednesday:
Shredded Beef Tacos, Lettuce, Tomato, Sour Cream, Guacamole, Chips & Salsa, Refried Beans

Thursday: Honey Glazed Chicken, Potato Wedges, Salad, Roasted Asparagus with Balsamic Vinegar

Saturday:
Grilled Pork, Grilled Pineapple Slices, Refried Beans, Corn on the Cob

The House Where I Dwell (Part 1)

My house is in a diastrous state. One of the bedrooms looks like this:


I've been waiting to update pics of my "new" kitchen. But it isn't finished. Here is a bit of an update:



I'm using my kitchen again, but there are no drawers. The cabinets are doorless, leaving their insides exposed. But the worst part isn't in these photos. It is the stuff that is all around me. The contents emptied from the bedroom and kitchen are stacked about the other rooms. Add to that the normal, everyday clutter and it is a wreck. I can't take it much longer. I want to run screaming from here.

It's funny. We moved into this new-to-us home nearly 16 years ago. At the time it was gently used, but lovely. Each wall was perfectly papered. But over time, the reality of paneled walls began exposing their true nature. Cracks, flaws, and weak areas began to appear.

This old house was built back in 1962. Hmm...same year as this here body of mine. It creaks and groans about the same as the wooden floors in my house. Nevertheless, this is my home. I live here. What I can't figure out is how did so much junk get in here?

Lingerie Again?

Kellan has me as a guest blogger at On The Flipside today. I'm honored. In order to preserve some dignity for my son, and in case you all missed his comment, I'm including it here.

Christopher said...
Verbatim:
mom:"ok this is a little bit awkward but I just got the invite to Lauren's lingerie shower. Any requests?"

Son:"mom what the! I want you to go, and i want you to get her something, but I most certainly am not going to talk about my likes and dislikes of lingerie with you."

She didn't just ask preference, she asked for requests. Silly mom.

The funny thing is, when I spoke with Lauren, she had no problem talking lingerie with her future mother-in-law.

Anyway, Kellan asks the question "Do you think men care about what lingerie women wear or is it really only the woman that cares?" Go check it out and let her know what your opinion is. I'm surprised by the responses I've read so far.

I'm not a clever title creator

Last night after dinner:

Me: Hilary, wouldn't you like to buy your lunch tomorrow, for the first day of schoool?

Michael: Why don't you buy your lunch every day? If you did, your mom wouldn't have to get up so early.


Hilary: But then who would make my breakfast?

Laughter.

Michael: I can't believe we just had this conversation.

Morning came way too early today, but later than expected. I awoke to Hilary's gentle nudge, "mom, what can I have for breakfast?" My alarm hadn't gone off. I'd been so careful to set it. The power has gone off 3 times in the past week. While the alarm was set correctly, the clock wasn't. Sigh. Not the best way to start a new school year. Since I'd only been up 15 minutes by the time she left for school, I was tempted to sneak back in bed. Mommy guilt wouldn't let me.

Is it me or was summer vacation way too short?

Cheated

I feel cheated. Most summers I enjoy doing laundry. Short sleeves & sleeveless shirts, shorts instead of pants...the clothes are smaller, so less of them to wash. During winter, it is difficult to jam the many layers of clothing into the same amount of wash loads. Hoodies and sweat pants are the items I detest the most. I wait for summer to arrive when thick, heavy clothing disappears from the laundry baskets. The hampers overflow in the cold months. Summers allow them to air out. Come Fall, they are fresh and ready to be stuffed again. Except this summer.

For some reason, the people in this house can not agree on the perfect temperature. While one sweats in the sweltering 73 degrees, another wraps herself in a blanket-while wearing the dreaded hoodie. I've also had to wash the throw blankets several times this summer. Normally I put them away at the end of spring. What's with all of the clothes and blankets? We've had record heat here, people! Why are we wearing sweats and hoodies???? Oh yeah, I forgot. We installed air conditioning last year. A blessing & a curse?

Do You Understand?

I understand why you yelled. Really, I do. You were afraid. The person, to whom you screamed, lives with that fear every day. Your words cut deeply into her heart. I forgive you. I hope she can too.

Right before that incident, she & I were talking. My friend is hurting. She really wanted to sit down, have a cup of coffee, and talk. She is alone. She spends her days fighting the battle that caused such a strong reaction from you. It's this battle that creates a greater need for friendship & companionship. But this is also what scares others away, isolating her all the more.

I hurt for my friend, my daughter, my child. I wish you hadn't added to her pain. Or her fear.

Apologize. Pour her a cup of coffee. Listen to what she has to say.

Thunk Thursday

Posted outside one of the rollercoasters at the amusement park.

I can ride, no recent surgrys here.

Lingerie

An invitation arrived in the mail. A Lingerie Shower.

The intention of a bridal shower is to aid the newlywed couple as they establish their own home The lingerie concept enables the bride to ditch her old, tattered, worn-out undergarments for pretty, new ones. Afterall, the new hubby will soon be privy to every hidden article of clothing his lovely bride could previously hide.

Or do young ladies today not keep tattered underwear and desire more, um, exotic under clothes and night wear? Years ago, we had two choices in underwear: briefs or bikini cut. That's it. With such variety, I figured I should ask what the preference might be. Surely there could be no embarrassment. The invitation already listed a bra & panty size. But wait, maybe the groom should get an opinion. I sent a text message to my son, Christopher.

"I know this is awkward, but I'm going shopping for Lauren's Lingerie Shower. Do you have any preference?" I waited for his reply.

"Mom. There is no way I'm going to discuss lingerie preferences with you."

I laughed and laughed. I suppose this is not unlike the shocking realization that your parents have had sex at least once in their lives.

Kitchen In A Bubble

My kitchen in its transformation stage:







After Day 2, I wished I'd gotten more things out of my cupboards. After Day , I wanted in my refrigerator. Today, I'm disappointed that I won't have my kitchen back until next week. Sigh. It will be a long weekend.

Thunk Thursday

This is blurry, so in case you can't read it-this is a "Nail Dry Station"

1. To start, place hands in dryer.
(I'll place mine under, thank-you.)

4. Fan will shut off automatically when you move out of your hands...
(As soon as I figure out how to get out of my hands, I'll let you know if it stops.)

Christopher's Birth Story.

Back around July 11th, I promised to tell Christopher's birth story. I'm finally getting around to it.

Twenty-four years ago, I was expecting my second child. We'd moved to Colorado and I was feeling very far away from family. On April 1st, at 26 weeks, we shared the happy news with our parents. Shortly thereafter, my parents revealed their own surprise. They were about to embark on a 2 year teaching assignment to Germany. The plan was for them to leave the beginning of August. My baby was due July 5th.

Knowing they'd miss his first couple of years, my parents flew out for his birth. A week later, taking 3 year old Christina with them, my parents flew home. No baby. Three days later, my inlaws brought Christina back to wait for Christopher to be born.

I went to the doctor July 10th. He declared I was ready and could have the baby anytime. I was dilated to 4 cm. That was good news, but still no baby. The next morning, after having contractions for 2 days straight, I decided I was tired of waiting. At 9:00a.m., we headed to the hospital.

Surprise. I was 4 cm. dilated. Nothing had changed. My doctor, who likes things done in a timely fashion, assured me that by breaking my water, I'd have the baby quickly. I was hesitant. I couldn't help but think how cushy that bag of water was. Once that nice water pillow was popped, the cushion was gone. It would be bone against bone. NOT my idea of comfort. I yielded anyway. I wanted the baby born.

Just as I thought. The contraction following the bursting of my water bag was very painful. The next one was worse. And oh my, I couldn't take it anymore. Doctor Snyder suggested I get an epidural. I remembered the Demerol from my 1st labor. No, no, no he convincingly said, this is completely different. This doesn't just take the edge off. This magical drug will cause you to completely relax and feel no pain.

I was skeptical. If that was true, why didn't I get one before.?I trusted my doctor and I was desperate. I gave in to his offer for relief. I waited for this wonder drug to kick in and provide some calm before the storm. I waited. And waited. My peace never arrived.

Instead, I believe the drug put my baby in distress. His heartrate began dropping.
The oxygen mask went over my face. The room quickly filled with people. I have no idea who they all were. Students? Doctors? I don't know, but I felt like I was center stage at some fancy theatrical performance only I wasn't properly dressed. I was poked, prodded, twisted and contorted to find a place that "baby was happy." I was ordered to begin pushing.

I pushed with all I had. Some woman had the audacity to tell my I wasn't trying hard enough. She said I wasn't holding my breath and wanted another person to "help" me hold my breath. I was in tears. Everything hurt. I felt like I wasn't going to make it. My doctor said, "we need to get this baby out NOW!" With that, he proceeded to perform another lovely procedure-an episiotomy. I had no problem with this, except when he went to cut, YEOW!!!! He was certain I wasn't really feeling pain. I only thought I was feeling pain because I could see what he was doing. They put a drape up so I wouldn't know when he was making the cut.

Nope, that was not the problem. I think when I screamed, he believed me and numbed the area before he continued. As soon as he was done, he grabbed the forceps and attempted to pull my baby out. As he pulled, I felt as if something was turning me inside out. I cannot describe the intense pain. Not being able to get a good enough grip, the doctor added metal extenders onto the forceps. I wish I had a photo, as I sometimes have a hard time believing this really happened. Michael later told me he was very scared. As he watched the doctor tug, twist, and pull, he feared his baby's head would pop right off.

At 4:56p.m my son appeared. His face and head were quite bruised, but he was in one piece. Christopher was born 7/11/84 and weighed 7lbs 7 oz.

Shortly after Christopher's birth, I went numb from the waist down. Nice, but a little too late. I was told by my nurse that my doctor was out in the hall chewing out the anesthesiologist who'd conveniently disappeared after my failed epidural. The following day he told me the birth had been difficult but he'd worked with me since I'd been so adamant against a c-section. "But"he added, "I'd never do it again." I think he was as traumatized as we were.

I truly believe had it not been for a friend who attended the birth and prayed throughout the delivery, things would not have turned out so well. But one look into Christopher's eyes and all was forgotten. We were blessed with a son.