Noel at Noon...

Andy will be cooking the meals for the two Noel at Noons at Parkway UCC in December.
I think he has ribs in mind for one of the meals, I don't know if he's thought of anything for the second.
I will post the menu with pictures when the time comes.
I'm looking forward to helping out again, it's really fun, but I sure would not want to work at that pace everyday. I'm wayyyyy to old for that.

Quilt...

OOOhhh!!! Kira finished my quilt. It is beautiful! While she was working at JoAnn's, she could take classes for free, and she took the quilting class. Wow...it has paid off, because she does beautiful work. Now all she needs to do is find an outlet to sell them. As soon as I get a picture of mine, I'll post it for all to see.

Tickets...

Wouldn't you think that after having 5+ parking tickets, you would try really, really hard NOT to park in a restricted area????? Especially when you know darn well you DO NOT have the money to pay for these tickets, because you DO NOT have a job and even if you did, you don't have the foggiest idea how to manage your money. I'm just about at the end of my rope. If your father's name wasn't listed as the owner of the car, I would let you suffer the consequences, and see what happens when you don't pay your fines. Then, I would'nt post bail, because that would just be another hunk of money you owe me.
I'd ignore them, if it wasn't for what would happen to your father if he got stopped for some reason by the police.

Happy...

I is soooo happy! First born GOT A JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yippee, yahoo, she gets to play with doggies all day, and get hairy, and licked.
Congratulations Bugs!

Art Fair...

Firstborn and I went to the Loring Park Art Fair this past saturday, Aug. 8. We had planned on getting an early start and going to Powderhorn, but as I was getting ready to leave, the sky turned dark as the clouds rolled in and it poured, so we waited awhile, the clouds rolled out, the sky turned blue and the temp. rose about 15 degrees while the humidity went to 90%, yuk. I needed gas as my car was on empty, and when I tried to get on the freeway, the exit ramps were closed, so I tried one further south, but it was closed too, then I realized the southbound freeway itself was closed for bridge painting/repair, geez, so I had to call and ask for directions. I finally got started and saw parts of the city I have never seen before, very pretty, redone areas, and lots and lots of stop lights. I was paying close attention for my turnoff, and passed a Jimmy Johns that looked just like the one near her house, and ended up at least a mile too far. I once again had to call for help. She made me drive to Target and STAY there while she came to my rescue. We finally got going 3 hours after the time we initially agreed upon, and took the shuttle bus to the Fair. It was so hot and sticky and no good food at that Fair, so when we got back on the bus to go to Powderhorn, it was getting late and I needed to pick up Middle Child from the airport, and we were starving...so we got our car and went to eat at The Neighborhood Cafe at 1570 Selby Ave. in St. Paul. Oh, my! It was fabulous. I got 2 pancakes, 2 eggs overeasy, 2 bacon and she got 2 french toast, 2 eggs overeasy, 2 bacon. That was the best I've ever eaten, and we snarfed it down. It would have tasted heavenly even if we hadn't been starving. Eventhough the day didn't turn out quite like we had planned, we got to spend time together, good time, and eat good food.

Viva Las Vegas...

Middle Child and his girlfriend took a little vacation to Las Vegas from Aug 5-Aug 8. We got up at 4:30 to get ready to drive them to the airport by 5:00. Their flight didn't leave until 7:00, but you have to get there in plenty of time, you know. I mentioned to him that he might want to call the Credit union when they opened and let them know that he would be in Las Vegas, using his credit card, so they wouldn't STOP his account because of suspicious activity. (I got this idea from a woman I work with. She had a friend that went to the middle east, where she grew up and still had family, and had her account stopped, because the bank thought someone was using her account without her knowledge). Well, suffice it to say that he didn't call, it left my mind, so I didn't call, and YES, they DID stop his account. Murphy's Law...we're very close. But, they had a great time anyway, lost money gambling, spent a gob on food, played in Mandalay Bay. Next time they'd like to see some shows. They were a little shocked at how very expensive everything was. Shar said she remembers (quite a time ago) being able to get .99 buffets.

I picked them up on Saturday evening when we were having a heatwave. It was near 90 and probably 90% humidity, with NO wind. I got there a little early and ended up going around the pickup loop 6 times before they got out of the airport and they said it was SO much hotter here than it was there. Minnesota gets very humid in the summer thanks to our 10,000 + lakes.

Angel voices...

Our church, Parkway UCC http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.parkwayuccminneapolis.org%2F&h=11ad0cc6ecc5f667eb45b251772de168 has a choir that sings from September through May, and during the summer months while the choir has a vacation, people volunteer to sing, play piano, organ, or give a reading, today was Firstborn's day. Our choir director, Bonnie, is a person you just can't say no to. We go to Papa's Pizza in May to celebrate a year well done, and she has her trusty clipboard ready with blanks by all the summer sundays. All she has to do is pass it around and it gets filled in, and if she doesn't see your name, she will hound you until you give in and sign up. Firstborn told her to fill her name in where ever she needed it, and to pick out a good song for her to sing.
She sang 'Come Unto Him' from Handel's Messiah. Oh my, I wish you could have heard it, I had tears in my eyes. First of all, I hear the singing, then I realize that the beautiful sound I'm hearing is coming from MY daughter. The beautiful, high, soprano voice, hmmm. She needed to leave the service shortly after singing, and I got to receive ALL her many, many complements. Most everyone said her singing brought tears to their eyes...good ones. God saw fit to bless her with a wonderful gift.

Pirate ship...

Thirdborn has a desire to be covered in tattoos and he's got a pretty good start. Most of them are just outlined black, though the ones on his legs are colored. At first his friends would ask "What's your mom gonna say?" and people he met would say "What does your mom think of all that?" His reply?? "My mom is just fine with it, she loves tattoos, she's got three of her own."
He insisted that I go to JonBoy http://blog.saintsabrinas.com/ for my second tattoo, and I think I was a little too picky for Jon's taste, I could tell he was getting a little short with me. I'm an artist also, and I think he thought I was telling him what to do. But I gave him a big tip and went to him for my third, so I think he's ok now. ha! ha!

Thirdborn would like to get the puzzle pieces filled in with the flags of different countries he intends on visiting someday, IN the country he's visiting. He's got room for 8 countries. He's already been to United Kingdom, so if he can just hop on over there, he can get one filled in. Wow! That's an expensive tattoo!

His most recent tattoo is an outline of a pirate ship on his side by JonBoy a couple of weeks ago and in mid September sometime, he will go to a Tattoo Convention with JonBoy and get it filled in. That's a lot of filling in for one day...he's gonna be soooo sore but he got such a deal for being a model/guina pig that it was something he couldn't pass up. I can't wait to see it done, hopefully I will be able to get to the convention and take a look around.

Comfort shawl...

Last summer Firstborn's best friend's dad was in the hospital following a freak accident. I work in this particular hospital, and I always have a sweater with me because no matter what time of year it is, I'm always chilly. Both her friend and her friend's mother were commenting on the fact that it was cold in the building. My daughter http://kirashapedgirl.blogspot.com/ has knitted some gorgeous shawls and because she was in Oregon doing a zoo keeper internship at the time and couldn't be here to support her friend and mom, she showed her love and support by knitting each of them a beautiful, soft, snuggly, comforting shawl to help them feel warm, secure and loved while they were keeping vigil for long hours in the TNICU. She graciously knit them up and sent them off and I can attest that they were put to very good use for many weeks.
This past week, her room mate's mother asked if she would knit a shawl for a friend of hers that just had a miscarraige. I saw it last night and it was snuggly, and soft and comforting and beautiful (and it wasn't even finished).
She is so talented, knitting, sewing, baking, house and animal sitting. I'm a very proud momma.

Car wash...

Third born has been up and productive since 10 a.m. (Dad gave him his pill this morning) What's unusual about this is that he normally sleeps until 4 p.m. He's already cleaned the entire inside of his car, put the Honda for sale out on the busy street, went to get some supplies from Target and is now cleaning the inside of mine. He's even going to give them a bath! How exciting, my poor car was grossly filthy.
I'm really hoping for rain, but I'd like to see my car all clean and shiny first.
Thank you, my baby.

Baby feel...

I love the feel of a baby asleep on my chest, knees drawn up, hands curled into little fists, or maybe a thumb in their mouth, breathing in that snuffly way babies do. I love rubbing my hand over their soft head, the back of the neck ( a very comforting spot) down over their bony back. The smell of them after a bath, warm, soft, baby smell. There is nothing in life to compare to this feeling.

So sad...

My children are grown now and I'm happy with that, and I don't get the 'I want another baby' feeling anymore (good thing, because I'm way too old) but one day I was having pizza and soda at Target and people watching. I saw young mothers with small children in their carts leaving for home. I heard one little boy say in that cute little 3 yr old voice "Mommy, can we go to the park?" and she said "I'm sorry honey, we need to pick up your sister from school." His little voice was so sweet! The mothers talking to their children. It hit me like a ton of bricks that I would never again be pregnant, carrying a child in me, feeling it grow, roll around, poke it's foot out, get hiccups. I would never again give birth. I would never again nurse a baby in the wee hours. It was such a devastating feeling I just about started crying. My eyes filled with tears and the pizza got stuck because I couldn't swallow and my mouth did that weird turn down, quiver thing. I was miserable. I'm looking forward to Grandchildren. They won't be the same as having my own, but I think it will pretty darn special and exciting.

Marble Girl...

When Firstborn and I went to MIA a couple of weeks ago, we saw a marble bust that looks just like Thirdborn's girlfriend. I showed it to her and she said, "I don't look like that, that doesn't look like me." Thirdborn said, "Yes you do, it looks just like you." I say, if she pulled her hair back on top of her head, and we took a picture of her profile...well just look.

Police...

In January, Third Born was walking to school after parking his car when he came upon a man attempting to jump off the Washington Ave. bridge. It's not a very high bridge, but the fall would have seriously injured him if not actually kill him. My son started talking to him, asking what was going on, listening to him, getting him to forget about jumping. He succeeded in getting him down, and found out he had just been released from jail, no one came to pick him up, he was broke, depressed and so on. My son got him to walk with him to school then asked him if he wanted some coffee. While my son was in getting coffee, he asked the person behind the counter to call 911, then he took the coffee to the man. He offered him a cigarette and while they were talking, smoking and drinking, the police came. They took statements and took the man in for help. The man thanked my son for taking the time to talk to him and care. Because of this, my son got a MPD Lifesaving Award. Pretty darn cool, I'd say. He's always been a very caring person and I'm very proud of him.

Graduation Party...

We had a graduation party for Middle Born this past Wednesday, June 24. It had to be a Wednesday because that is the only full day he has off work. When you are a chef, your weekends belong to the restaurant. He did all of the cooking, and First Born and I assembled, and assembled, and assembled...for six hours we assembled. Whew! What a lot of work. I was glad to go to my actual job the next day. I knew it would be less stressful, cooler, and way less work. Because we were soooo busy, I completely forgot to take pictures. I cannot believe that I have NO pictures of the entire day. What a poor excuse for a mother I am!
I guess I'll just have to try and remember what we made...
*crab and mango empanadas
*prosciutto with pineapple and gorganzola cheese on chiabatta toast
*chorizo with sweet melons
*bacon wrapped Medjool dates on polenta
*greek-style quesadillas
*asian pesto-grilled chicken skewers
*butternut cashew pohpiahs
*crabmeat beggar's purses
*spicy chinese five-spice-rubbed chicken wings
*fried crab wontons
*chocolate drizzled cream puffs
*tres leches cake
*lettuce salad with strawberries, salted almonds and raspberry dressing
*fresh fruit
*cranberry raspberry punch
It was all so very yummy. I really enjoy helping him with these special dinners. I take directions very well, and now that he's been working in the field awhile, he gives directions very well. He has a real nice way of telling or showing you how to do something without yelling, belittling or making you feel stupid.
We were still scrambling to get things finished when guests started arriving, so we didn't get to talk to everyone, especially Andy, the one the party was for. He got to spend time with his friends after the party though, they had a bonfire and s'mores and lots of alcoholic beverages.
Dad and I did ALL the clean-up. There was a whole lot of oil used that day. Yuck! Thank you Dawn...you keep your end of the deal.
So, even without pictures, it was a very fine day.
Congratulations Andy!

23 years...

First born is house/pet sitting for us this weekend while we take a short anniversary trip. Our two guys are still living at home, but Dreaded Middle Born has to work, like constantly, so he gets up minutes before he has to leave, then is gone the entire day/evening. The poor dog wouldn't be able to hold her legs together for that long, and the cats would probably pee on something for spite. The Baby just doesn't wake up very easily, and the animals would be no better off I'm afraid. First born is used to getting up early, and she has a little more empathy where the animals are concerned, plus she's desperate for money. ha ha ha I'll take lots of pictures (hopefully good ones) for her to see. (She is a photo nut!)

Pictures...

HEY! What happened to flickr!!!???

Birthday boy...

Someones having a birthday today...Dreaded Middle Son turns 22 today. In a little less than 12 hours to be exact. I threatened him that we would all pile into the restaurant with balloons and presents. He was a little panicked, he didn't know for sure if I was kidding or not. He just said, "Please don't do that." Hmmm, it sure would be fun, but I don't think I could pull it off, so he's safe for now.

Messy room 2...

While I was sitting in my messy room last night, playing on the computer, again, as always, I was listening to the June Bugs hit the window screen. I was pretty much ignoring it when the sound of buzzing (they have a certain sound that's not quite buzzing, but pretty much) got a little louder. I turned around and one was IN the room flybuzzing around. I jumped up ready to run out of the room, when I realized that it could just fly out after me and I could lose it. How would I ever sleep if I knew there was a June Bug loose in the house. It helped me out by landing on the floor, and I picked up a sandle that just happened to be lying on the messy floor and I...well, you know.

Messy room...

I'm sitting here at my computer, in my new room (daughter's old room), with 1/2 of the contents of her closet sorted out on the floor. I went through everything and boxed up some of it, books from college and stuff from high school that she wants to keep, just not with her. That's OK, I can find a spot for it. It's in plastic buckets so 'things' won't get in and chew on it. Then there is a large pile of crafty stuff, a pile of photography books and pictures, a pile of Psychology books, some cards for holidays, and a bunch of frames. I'm hoping she'll come around sometime this week and let me know what she wants to take and what can be boxed up, because it's kind of messy in here. I have a cabinet that I want to bring up from the basement (for some more storage) that I'm going to paint, and right now it doesn't have anyplace to go.

Birthday...

Dreaded Middle Child is having a birthday this week, Saturday the 23rd, to be exact. Of course he will be working on Saturday, maybe we'll hop on over to the restaurant and give him his present. I wonder how well that would go over?!! Probably better to give it to him at home. But, you know, that restaurant idea sounds kind of interesting. We do of course have to eat anyway...ha, ha, ha!

More on jet plane...

I just asked my Baby, and Honey will be gone for 18 days...yeow! He's so sad...I think I can keep him busy though. He'll be soooo happy (for reasons other than the obvious) for her to be back. But...just maybe, we can get a few things done around here, things that take some muscle.

Leavin' on a jet plane...

Third born's honey is leaving in the morning to go to Europe with her sister for...a week? two weeks? I guess I'll have to find that one out, but I think it's two weeks. Her older sister just graduated this weekend, and for a graduation present, she is going to Europe. Parental units didn't want her to go alone, and she probably didn't relish the idea either, so Honey is going along. My baby is none too happy about this. He recently saw the movie "Taken" and is freaking himself out, worrying that her sister is going to get them in trouble of some kind. Honey is pretty practical, and has her head on straight, but I'm not sure about her sister. I get the impression she's a little more of a free spirit, doing before thinking it through. I just hope they have a fabulous time. As long as they use their sixth sense, they'll be fine. My baby bought her a canister of pepper spray to take along. I'm betting he'd like to be able to stuff himself in her suitcase and go along. He'd be wonderful protection. I always feel safe when I'm with him. Even when he was a little kid, he just observed his surroundings without being obvious. He said he always knows what's around him. Some things are just part of your DNA.

Application...

Third born filled out his application to Hennepin Technical School and dropped it off today. He'll find out in a few days if he's accepted or not. If he is, then he takes the entrance exam and signs up for classes. This is a total about change from what he wanted to do before. He was going to IPR (Institute of Production and Recording) and he was going to record bands. Well, that didn't work out too well, so now that he has had some time off to reconsider, he's thinking that Autobody would be a better choice. He love tinkering on cars, wiring sound systems and fixing the engines. With this degree/diploma, he would be fixing the bodies of cars once they have been dinged or crunched. I hope this is a better fit for him.

Being Lazy...

My Third born baby is pretty much a lazy person. He can talk himself out of just about anything, (he can also talk anyone into just about anything) huh...strange how that works. He's not going to school right now because he had a few problems with getting his work done. I told him that when you get in college, they really don't care one bit if you get your work done, or even go to class. They just won't pass you. Imagine that... He gets the picture now. He took a look at a different school that has classes in car repair? detailing? painting? something like that. He says he's going to go there now, but I don't see the registration form filled out, in fact it is still sitting on top of the piano where it has been sitting for a week.
He works part-time, goes out with friends and sleeps. His room looks like a bomb exploded and smells worse. He has money for tattoos, fun, his car, but not for insurance, school loans and all the parking tickets he has. My face is getting dirty from all the shoe wiping (because of my being a doormat). He actually did what I asked him to do today. I'll give him another list for tomorrow. He's going to work off the parking tickets. If my husbands name wasn't on them, I'd ignore them and let him suffer the consequences when he gets stopped by the police and gets thrown in jail for a while. I think he'd get the picture then. I guess that's what it takes for him to finally understand...I have to step back and let him fall on his face. [only took me 19 1/2 years to figure out, what does that say for me?]

Sharp objects...

When Dreaded Middle Son was little, I'm thinking about 1st grade or so, he was very interested in sharp objects, mainly knives. He would take them from the kitchen and hide them. ??? I could never figure this out, I don't know if something happened that I don't know about, or if he was just facinated with knives. Did he feel threatened? Scared? I just thought he was a little bit of a kleptomaniac. He always denied taking them, even when they were right by him. Strange. I wonder if he remembers taking them, and if so, what possessed him to do it. Funny that he is in a profession that deals with knives. Coincidence?? I don't think so!

Big move...

Well...it's official...my firstborn child, my daughter, my friend has moved out. I've been wanting her to move for awhile now. She was in Oregon this last summer for a zoo internship, and I flew out there to drive back with her at the end of September. We all thought she would be getting a zoo job pretty quickly, but NO. The recession set in full fold. So, we thought maybe she could get a job doing something else, because, really, she has a four year degree. Well, it seems that a four year degree only means one thing...you have a four year degree! Anyplace she applies to wants experience to boot...and how does one get experience if no one will hire them?? Internships are one answer, but they don't pay anything, and it's hard to live on "nothing". Now that her college loans have come due, that makes it even harder. She could get another internship, but that would not guarantee her a job. Anyway...she just happened upon a deal she couldn't pass up. Her oldest childhood friend's grandmother moved out of her home into assisted living and the family was trying to sell the house, but when that didn't work, they decided to let two of their grand daughters live there. My daughter happens to be a friend, so she moved in too. She's got the teeny, tiny room, but it's so pretty. She painted the walls a creamy yellow, and one wall dark purple. She has a black wrought iron bed, and baker's rack, and her dresser is painted black. The black looks great on both the creamy yellow and the purple. So anyway, about how I feel about this...it's way different than when she was at school, because I knew she would be coming back, but this time, she's NOT coming back. Unless something catastrophic happens. It's okay, but very strange. I'm happy that she/they got to be on their own this way, with no lease or contract. If a job comes up for any of them out of state, or just far away, they can leave without causing anyone any harm. She'll do great! (me too)

William Sonoma...

Aaahh...William Sonoma. I think most people would associate a woman with William Sonoma. Ha! Usually maybe, but NOT always. Dreaded Middle Child is a sous chef at Flame, Cooking With Fire, and what does a chef use most often??? Knives! Oh my goodness gracious does this boy like knives. Apparently he was cutting up a hunk of meat (forgive me, but I forgot what kind) and he decided he needed a different knife, so he went around the corner of the building and into William Sonoma and bought a new very sharp, very pretty knife. His co-worker sous (executive?) chef just had to have one too. Since then, he's bought two more, both of which he ordered from Japan. The first ones shank was kind of rough for my hand, so while it was pretty, I wouldn't have been able to stand using it. The second one though...oh my! I'm jealous, I'm thinking of hiding it somewhere in the house for myself. Think he would notice?! ha! ha! It is such a nice knife though, light and extremely sharp, nicely balanced. I was thinking it would be a great knife for someone with arthritis, because it is so user friendly. I was trying it out last night (while he was watching) and I was holding an orange pepper with my fingertips while slicing. He got this panicked look on his face and said,"Mom, you never, never cut while holding with your fingertips, that's a good way to cut them off. Always hold with your knuckles out, so the blade hits your knuckles and misses your fingers." I do actually know this, but I've never had really sharp knives, until the last year, and it's hard to change habits. Good knives though, are so sharp, that if it slips off what you are cutting and hits your finger, your finger could be gone before you realized you made a mistake. And what a bloody mess you have, then the stinging, and the flap of skin left on your finger, and...well you get the picture. Anyway, he is soooo excited with these knives, it's fun to see. Just like a little kid with a birthday present he's really wanted. I love to see him excited about things.

A place of her own?????

First born might have a new place to call home. Her oldest friend from waayyy back (kindergarten) has a room in her grandmother's house (who is not living there at this time) that she can rent. Woo hoo! It sounds so very exciting, I'm a little jealous. They took a look at it last night and she came home very hyped. They've got the house painted, furnished, decorated with art work and the table is set with new white dishes and a scrumtious meal (in their minds). I hope this works out for her, because this is something she really wants and more importantly, needs. After living at college for four years, it's hard to move back home into a little bedroom that is stuffed to the brim. Even though she can do what ever she wants and doesn't have a curfew, "Mom and Dad" are still here keeping an eye on her. It's hard to let your children grow and become adults, because the very thing that they need to do to accomplish this, is to move out and become their own person. I don't want her to go, because we won't get to do as much together, but I also can't wait for her to go, because I feel she really, really needs to. I can feel her regressing, questioning herself, becoming dependent again. Once she's on her own, these will change and she will blossom. We have a wonderful relationship and while it will change, it will be good for both of us, and I'm certain and confident we will always be close. I love her very much and wish only the very best for her.

Crazy...

Ack!! Help me please, I'm going crazy. There are too many people around here, big people, like in "young adult kids". This feeling is nothing new for me, it's a cycle I go through every now and then. It always goes away and then I'm very happy with life, but for now... everything ticks me off. The kids and my husband are the biggest things, (probably because they are human). They make messes, and while they sort of clean up, it's not how I would like it done. They have comments and opinions, which they should and it's good, but they aren't comments or opionions that I want. They make noise, OMG, but it's iritating. I almost feel like I have "Spring Fever", except that it's already spring, and it's nice out. Sometimes I just wish I could be all by myself, in a little house out in the middle of nowhere with just a cat and a dog. Someplace I could do what- ever I wanted, whenever I wanted and no one would be there to ask anything of me or interupt me or make a mess for me to clean up, etc. etc. etc. Geez, what a complainer, huh?? I'm sure that everyone feels this way from time to time, I'm just taking the time to voice it.

Petty...

Having children does not mean that you automatically have someone to unconditionally love you. You always love them, you might not like them very much at times, but you always love them. You do things for them, bail them out, lend them money, make excuses, over and over and over. But...turn the tables around, and the scales are not even. I just happen to be talking, pettily, about gifts, birthday gifts in particular. It seems like kids, well young adults, always have money to buy stuff for themselves or their friends. When it comes time to pay bills, get license tabs, pay car insurance, buy deoderant or hair gel, then it's 'Mom, I don't have any money. I had to get gas. It was our anniversary, we went out to eat.' So, doormat that I am, what do I do? I bail them out! When it happens to be MY birthday, what happens??? I'm broke, I didn't have any time to go shopping, I don't know what you want, etc., etc., etc. Gosh darn it all, I'd like for once for one of my grown kids to think of Mom for once, without having to be reminded. I realize this is incredibly petty and immature of me, but that is how I feel. It hurts to be walked on all the time, even if I do it to myself.

no wish for me...

Kira got up for work and wished me a "Happy Birthday". Ethan came home from dropping off a car to the shop and wished me a "Happy Birthday", and he got me a musical card and candy last night. My sister Barb and my mom called my cell (I didn't answer because I was shopping and didn't hear it) and left me a "Happy Birthday"song msg. My other sister Karen called my cell (again I didn't hear it) and left me a "Happy Birthday" song msg. My husband wished me a "Happy Birthday" and got a cute card. [We got a new camera for his birthday, my birthday, and our anniversary.] The only one who didn't wish me a happy birthday is my dreaded middle son. I even sent him a text telling him about our Easter/birthday get together tomorrow at Karen's and all he text back was...I work 6 to 10. NOTHING about my birthday. How sad...I'm feeling kinda forgotten, and worthless. I guess I don't count.

Last name to choose...

Third born was much easier to decide on. I'm not positive what we had chosen for a girls name, it may have been Eyelia again, but I know what the only boys name we had chosen was. There was a TV show on back in the late 80's called 'Thirty Something' and one of the couples had a son by the name of Ethan. I remember hearing the mom call out for her son...Ethan...what a great name. The meaning of it is Ethan (Hebrew for strong) and John (Hebrew for God is gracious), and both of those fit him well. He has a strong personality. Very outgoing, but very kind and helpful with loads of empathy.

Boy's name?!

Picking out a name for my firstborn was very difficult and I thought maybe it would be easier the second time, but I was wrong. We had already used the only girl name we liked, so the next choice I could think of was Eyelia, (pronounced like it's spelled). This is not the actual spelling, but I didn't want people messing it up, so this was how I would have spelled it. Good thing I only had one girl. ha ha
I had a few more choices for a boy though. Johnathan (too many Johns in the family already), Adam (my ex used it for his son) and Andrew (after my grandfather) David (after my husband). Andrew (Greek for man warrior) David (Hebrew for beloved) is what we went with. He is a warrior of sorts, fighting for what he wants, and of course he is beloved...

What's in a name?

When I was growing up, my friends and I always pretended we were someone else, and names were very important. I always wanted to be Priscilla (name of my best friend's mom). I thought that name was pretty and exotic. I just knew that I would name my firstborn girl Priscilla. A few years later, I just knew that I would name my firstborn girl Regina. Then I got pregnant. What a very difficult job it is to think of a name for your child, hopefully one they won't hate. My husband (then my boyfriend) and I got a book of 10,000 Baby names. One would think that it would make life easier having a few choices...HA! The ONLY name we both liked and thought we could live with was Kira (Persian for sun) Leigh (Old English for meadow). Thank God she wasn't twins, because Kira Leigh was the ONLY girl name we had picked out. Now that she is older, we've come upon a fair number of Kira's. Every now and then when we're out together, we'll hear a mom call Kira...we just look at each other and smile.
So, while I was writing this, I thought I better look up the meanings just to make sure I was right...I found out that Kira in Gaelic means dark lady. Well now, this shines a whole new light on the subject of Kira. She really seems to be a combination of the two, sometimes she is sunny and sweet and helpful and loving...and then there are other times. Dark, brooding, stay away from me times. Like first thing in the morning, or when she's tired, or has a headache, or shoulder pain, or has to work when she'd rather be reading, etc. etc. etc. BUT, she's usually just like a sunny meadow (to me at least).

The baby!

With my first two children, my water broke one and two weeks before my due date, so with my third pregnancy, my Doctor wasn't taking any chances with me getting to the hospital in time. He scheduled me to be induced. I was not happy with this. While I had Pitocin with my second child, I was already having some little contractions. With my third, I wasn't having contractions, and it felt wrong to check in to the hospital, get an IV, and have a drug pumped into me just to make things more convenient. Reluctantly I agreed to schedule the induction. I remember going for an uncomfortable walk the night before I was scheduled. I had been having a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions with this last pregnancy and I thought that was what I was having during the walk. I was fully effaced, the head was down, and I had dropped. (I carried all my kids real low, and they were head down through most of the pregnancy. ) The actual length of "hard" labor I had with each of them was about three hours. So In other words, I was all ready to go. In the morning we took off for the hospital, me in denial all the way, and got all settled in my room. As before, I had my music and my focus thought, (swinging with my kids in the blue canvas swing, sunlight peeking through the leaves of the tree we were swinging from). The Doctor came in and checked me out, asking if I had been having contractions. I told him just Braxton Hicks, and he said well they were more than that, because you're already dilated to 4 cm. Whoa! So, without warning, he takes something that looks like a long crochet hook, and breaks my water. Had I known he was going to do this, I would have taken OFF my only pair of socks so they wouldn't get ALL WET. Geez, how disgusting...now I was sitting in a huge wet spot. So they started an IV, hooked up the Pitocin and we waited, and waited, until finally the contractions started. Once more,my focus thought along with my husband telling me when the contractions peaked worked like a charm. Once my contractions actually start, my labors are a breeze. With every contraction, especially at the very end, it seemed like the baby was pushing his feet into my zyphoid process. That hurt worse than the contractions. I didn't hyperventilate this time (at least I don't think I did, I'll have to ask my hubby...though I doubt that he would remember), and when I said I had to push, they did a quick check, pushed the cervix open a titch and then I had to try and relax (NOT push) while they got everything situated. It was like "Come on already!!!" After an agonizing few minutes of panting, I was told to go ahead an push. I added a couple more with this one (probably cuz he was bigger), maybe five total and out he came 8 lbs, 20 in., strawberry blond hair and RED. He looked huge compared to the other two. He's stayed big too. He looked so sweet and soft and perfect.

(Dreaded) Middle Child

We started remodeling our house soon after I found out I was pregnant with our second child. We did quite a bit of the work ourselves, and tiling the kitchen counters was one of them. I was about 8 1/2 months pregnant while I was tiling the kitchen. I remember I was making cooked pudding (chocolate, of course) on the stove while my husband was glueing a thick piece of plywood on top of another piece for the counter. My stove is in a corner of the kitchen and I was cooking the pudding, with a gas flame, right next to the part of the counter my husband was glueing (with adhesive that CLEARLY said, HIGHLY FLAMEABLE...DO NOT USE NEAR FLAME). Well, I don't know if being pregnant zaps out all of ones brain cells, or if my husband and I are just plain stupid...but you should have seen the flame catch hold of the adhesive fumes. It was just like in the movies. We watched the flames go from under the pan, across the counter and up the wall. There just happened to be some carpet hunks on the floor (thank GOD) that my husband tossed on the counter. Geez, that was a close call, it could have been soooooo bad. After we did the usual stress laugh, we ate the pudding!!
So in the following days, he finished the counter top so I could start tiling. I was just finishing up the last bit when my water broke. Because this happened to me with my firstborn, I knew I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, so I put on put on some protection and finished working.
This was 4 p.m. and a week early. I called my mom and told her we would be bringing her grand daughter over later because we were hoping to have a baby. Well, at 7 a.m. the next morning, we were still at home. I was having some contractions, but nothing really productive. Once I got to the hospital and into my room and all situated, they started a Pitocin drip. I had heard horror stories about Pitocin, so I wasn't too thrilled with that, but it turned out to be Wonderful!.
We had taken the childbirth classes this time also, and I was prepared with music, and a focus, and I had my husband tell me when the contraction peaked. My focus was my daughter and I sitting in the kiddy pool, with the sun sparkling on the water. That along with my knowing when the contraction peaked was all I needed. I sailed through the whole wopping three hours of labor like a bush woman. Again, same as the first time, I hyperventilated and got the shakes and needed the trusty paper bag, but unlike last time, when they checked for dilation, they waited until the contraction was over. I told my husband I had to push and to call for the nurse. She sauntered in and told me I couldn't possibly be ready yet, but after she checked, she got moving real fast. I was sort of in a sitting position, and I had my feet on the foot pads, the bottom of the bed was taken off, and the nurse and doctor were leaning against the counter. I said, "Are you gonna come catch him?" They didn't seem worried at all. Well, I kind of took them by surprise, because I only had to push 2 times and my second child was born. A darling little 6 lb. 11 oz. 19 in. wrinkly little Dr. Spock. He had a little turned up nose, with a crease across it, a little pointed chin, blond hair. Soooo sweet.

Baby girl

On September 1, 1985 I was dreaming of being back at my childhood home, running through the backyard. It was a nice peaceful dream, a light breeze blowing, dappled sun shining through the leaves on the tree, warming my skin...when I felt like I really had to pee. I startled awake and thought, "did I really do that?! I feel wet!" Actually, my water broke, two weeks early. I called the office, and they calmly told me to wait until I was having contractions. Well, I kept waiting...all day for something to happen. I packed, cleaned, made phone calls, went for a walk, anything to get labor started. I didn't get my first contraction until 12 hours later, around 7 pm. Little bitty contractions, my braxton hicks were worse than these. A few hours later they got a little worse, so I let my husband get some sleep, (on the couch), because I knew I would need him later on when things really got going and I spent the night in the rocker/recliner we bought (because a rocker is a necessity with a baby). By about 5 a.m., the contractions were getting kind of ugly. I woke up sleeping beauty and we trudged to the car. (it's really difficult to walk when your belly is as hard as a rock)
We had done the birthing classes, and I knew
I did not want medication,
I did not want an episiotomy,
I certainly, without a doubt, did not want a C-section,
I did not want a certain Doctor,
and because I work in a hospital, and knew the personality of a certain female intern, I DID NOT want her!
Well, me and Murphy are real close friends, and wouldn't you know it...
I got medication (it was horrible, I felt really woozy and out of control)
I got an episiotomy (what a strange sound it makes when they cut you)
I got the Doctor (it was a holiday weekend and he was "on call")
I got the icky, snotty, cold fingered female intern,
AND I had several other interns in there watching!!!
I found it amazing how hard my belly got during those disgusting contractions. (the things I think about)
I tried to think of pleasant thoughts or places, and to listen to my soothing music, but it really didn't work too well. Everytime they needed to check my progress, they waited until I was having a contraction to check dilation and the icky intern had cold fingers with long nails. So, when they asked me if I wanted something for the pain, I said YES! Unfortunately it turned out to be a bad experience. I didn't like the feeling of that drug at all. I felt like I had no control over myself, and all I wanted to do was sleep. It turns out I react to narcotics like that. I did the deep breathing so well that I hyperventilated. I had to breath into a paper bag, then I got the shakes. My mom was in there at the time, and I guess I scared her half to death. Then all of a sudden I said, "I have to push! Call the nurse." They came, checked me out, paged the Doctor and got me all set up. He got there just in the nick of time. My mom didn't have a chance to leave the room, she just looked at me and asked what she should do. I told her she could stay if she wanted.
The Doctor cut the episiotomy, I pushed 2 or 3 times (yes, that's correct) and out she came. A little pink baby girl, 5 lb. 13.5 oz., 19 in. long with strawberry blond hair.
[I was glad that my mom had the chance to see her firstborn come into the world and oddly enough, I didn't even feel strange for her to be there.]
My husband went with his new daughter to the nursery and gave her a bath, got her feet printed and came back with her all wrapped up and a little hat on her head. She looked exactly like a Smurf.
I had held exactly 1 baby before her. I had never changed a diaper, never given a bath, never gotten one dressed, and it all came so naturally. I guess my maternal instincts took over.
My firstborn, baby girl was born on Labor Day, two weeks early, and absolutely perfect!