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4/4/2009 TELEPHONESWhen I was a child, there was only one real form of communication, other than in person, and that was the telephone. The regular, everyone had one - some had party lines (like we did for years after moving upstate New York to live on my maternal Grandfather's land) big receiver on a cradle... rings the same all over type of telephone. It was a big deal when we didn't have to dial any more... touch tone option was so cool!
I don't remember cellular phones entering the scene until I was in my teens... they were probably around before then, but not in my life. The original cell phones didn't get reception anywhere other than in the middle of the city, and then only if not blocked by a tall building or lots of steel, and they were huge... you almost needed two hands to hold them to your ear. Actually, as the companies began making cell phones smaller and smaller it seemed un-natural to me... to be smaller than a regular phone's receiver? How could an entire phone be contained in such a small thing?
Well, once I adjusted, a cellular phone seems to be almost surgically installed in my hand. I never go anywhere without mine, and everyone I know has one... including each of my nephews... the smallest of whom just turned 10 years old. Imagine. 10 years old and he has his own cell phone.
Well, I've gone one better... or is it worse? I can't help it... ever since my little Dillon could reach out for something, he's always reached out for my cell phone. No wonder... I was on one almost constantly while I was pregnant, and since his birth have kept all my family members up to date on his progress, and every second of his cuteness. I take pictures and video with my phone and text and e-mail all my family and friends... daily it seems.
When I changed cell phone companies and my old phone wasn't compatible with my new company, forcing me to buy a new phone, I decided to let my little baby boy have my old phone. I keep it charged so that when he hits the buttons it beeps and puts colorful numbers on the screen, and he can push several different buttons (you'd think he knew what he was pushing by his concentration) and get pictures of himself as a baby, and of my chihuahua, Precious. Dillon absolutely LOVES phones!
My husband B got him a fake cell phone that beeps and chirps and has little sayings "Hello... can I help you?" or "Hello... who is it?"... listen to the same thing over and over and over and over again for a while and you'll be ready to smash the thing or run over it with the car... ooops!! Dillon NEVER seemed to tire of it though... he'd put it down for a while, but he always remembered where it was, and he'd kind of 'wake up' every once in a while and go find it to check for... well, I can only assume he was checking for messages or missed calls.
I got him one too, when he lost the first one... actually I think this is the third or fourth one... lets see.. he had a red flip phone... a regular blue one... and a smaller silver one... yup, this is the fourth one... it's a "handy Manny" phone... it has the song, and the voices of the different characters on the different keys. Dillon likes it, but he's not in love with it. I think he's almost old enough for his own REAL cell phone.
He must call his Nana (his paternal Grandmother) every day. He will actually seek out my cell phone (no matter how well I hide it... the annoying thing WILL sing a song every time I get an e-mail, so Dillon follows the sound) and once he finds it, he points and says quite loudly, and clearly... NAAAANUUUHHHHHHH!!!!! He want's to talk to her on the phone. He actually does. I'll dial the phone, and put it on speaker phone. Nana answers the phone and Dillon either yells out "HEY!!!!" in a long drawn out kind of way, or he identifies himself clearly with a loud "Deeyahnnnn!!!"... and his Nana is perfect. She talks to him... keeps asking him questions... what are you doing? Nana Loves you! How's my boy? Is that Nana's boy? He's tickled, and ACTUALLY TALKS BACK TO HER... I've never seen a child do this... not at his age, that's for sure.
He'll put the phone up to his forehead, and while he stares at the numbers close to his little eyes he'll start mumbling to Nana..."ummm... bum de mama unn tooo.... bops... nnnn um mow nah.. naaanaaahhhhh" and then he's quiet while waiting for her response... and she'll say "Oh really? Have you been playing? Are you having fun playing? Are you there? Talk to Nana"... and then he'll hold the phone away from him... at arms length... and he'll shout "Ummm... Naaaaaa nuhhhhhhh!!!!" and then crack up laughing as if he's just told the funniest joke.
I'm wondering how long I can go before I have to get him his own phone for real... with his own minute plan... I bet I'll have to get unlimited texting. His favorite shows are "Super Why", a spelling word show, "Sesame Street", Elmo's World in particular, "Word World", another word/spelling show, and "Barney"... lots of singing and words and counting... he loves the learning shows.
I love watching him learn... it's just awesome! I can't get over this little guy... he constantly amazes me.
3/30/2009 A MOTHER'S LOVENo matter what anyone tells you to prepare you for the love you'll have for your child... no matter how huge they make it sound or what they compare it to... and everyone who is already a mother will spend time telling you what to expect while you're expecting... no one can ever come close to the reality.
Actually, I almost felt deficient at first. I was supposed to have this huge feeling wash over me... I was supposed to be overwhelmed by my unrecognizable emotions as soon as I saw my son. What no one tells you is that BECAUSE your emotions are so HUGE... so overwhelming... so unrecognizable because you've never felt anything close to it before... you DON'T know you're having them until much later. Let me explain.
While the doctors were opening up my abdomen and taping it to a bar, reaching inside me to wrench my baby out of me, and identifying my baby as "yup, its a boy", I was holding my breath... holding my emotions... holding... holding... holding. My only conscious thougts were "GOD... make him alright... please make him alright" and "Why isn't he crying? Why can't I hear him cry?" Unconsciously I was interested in the fact that I could feel everything they were doing to me, but had no pain (cool!)... I was waiting with bated breath to hear my son cry... I was vaguely aware of B filming the procedure, standing somewhere to my left... I was wondering why my arms had to be taped down out to my sides on these boards, like I was on a cross or something... I was listening intently to hear if a nurse or doctor said something that wasn't quite... right.
The intensity of the relief I felt when I heard Dillon's first cry (sounded a little weak... is he ok? I thought) and then his huge and very annoyed second cry (relief flooded me... OH GOOD... his lungs are fine... he's ok) was followed by such a huge surge of motherly protection (Doc, is he ok? Everything is good, right?) and concern (B - don't you leave our baby... you stay with him B!)and love - overwhelming, complete, all consuming love - that I didn't identify it as such until a couple of weeks later, upon reflection. All I could do was laugh and cry at the same time (caught on tape).
From that moment on my every waking, and dreaming thought was about my son. I was impatient for the doctor to sew me back up because I had to get to my son and feed him... Dillon must be hungry after the ordeal of birth... he must be missing me - if he doesn't hear his mama he's going to think I abandoned him. I consciously had stroked his cheek with my finger as I spoke calmly to him after he'd been wrapped up and was being held by my face so I could see him before they took him to the nursery... I told him mama would be right there... I love you baby... do you know it's your mama?... do you recognize my voice now you're out?... be a good boy and don't worry because daddy will stay with you until I can be there... I love you Dillon... I promise I'll be right there... then they took him away... I called out to B - Don't you leave him! Make sure you can see him at all times!! Stay WITH the baby... do you hear me B? I was terrified something would happen to him now... how could I protect him now he was out of me?
When I was told he was in ICU because his sugars had bottomed out I was frantic to get to him. I'd seen movies and heard stories and read all kinds of examples of how babies needed their mommies when they were ill... they healed better when mama was there. I couldn't fathom NOT being by my son's side. The nurses had me hooked up to a morphine drip for my pain and they said I had to stay in recovery for 2 hours, or until I could move my extremities, then would be moved to my room where I had to wait for them to bring me my baby. UH... NO. Ten minutes after I was put in recovery I was moving my toes (wow, you're a quick recoverer)... yeah... I need to see my baby. They made me wait 1 hour instead of 2 then moved me to my room.
I kept insisting my son needed to breast feed... I didn't want them to bottle feed him... bring me to my son. The nurses said I had to wait until the afternoon and we'd see if I could get up or not based on how much pain I was in and how much I needed of the morphine drip. I said take it out now... I don't need it... I need to see my son. They smiled and said they'd be back later to check on me. I never pushed the button for the first dose of morphine. I didn't feel physical pain at all... I was only concerned about my son... everyone who came by to check on me was amazed I was still awake and hadn't used any pain medication... TAKE ME TO MY SON... he needs me.
Finally, Dillon was born at 9:13 am, and finally, at 3 pm, the nurse came in with a wheel chair and started to tell me if I could get up she'd take me to Dillon... by the time she finished saying it I was on my feet and turning around to back into the wheel chair. I tapped my toes on the foot rests... I strained to hear my baby's cries... my husband B was by my side, walking with us to the ICU. They opened the big hallway doors and I said to B... that's Dillon... he's crying. He said I couldn't know that and I told him I KNEW my child. We sanitized our hands and as they wheeled me closer I could hear my baby crying... it WAS him... B was impressed. I got to my baby's side and reached my hand toward him... I began stroking his cheek and talking softly to him and he quieted down.
For the next 3 days I went down to ICU every 3 hours, on the hour, to feed and comfort my baby. The nurses wanted me to rest... I wanted to be with my baby. I wasn't tired. The imensity of the love I have for my Dillon kept me sane, awake, and consumed with making my baby well. Once his sugars were regulated we were allowed to take him home... and it was only delayed 1 day... everyone was surprised... not me... I knew he was going home with me. Either that or they'd better set something up for me to stay there... I wouldn't leave until Dillon went with me.
I know now that my motivation at the time was the all consuming love I feel for my Dillon... then I just DID... I did what I had to do for my child... and I felt like I was missing that love... why didn't I feel it? Why didn't I recognize the all consuming love feeling? I know now that I was looking for a feeling I could recognize as love... something I was familiar with. The love of a mother for her child is not anything she's ever felt before her baby's birth.
That love that consumed me during my second marriage... where I lived and breathed my husband... where I physically hurt if we were separated for any time at all... the love that had me unable to form a sentence without him in it... the love that made me do everything in life not just for me, but for US... the love that didn't let me breathe without making sure he was breathing first... that was nothing like the love I have for my son. That love pales in comparison... can it even be called "love" now that I know the real raw emotion?
Since his birth, Dillon has been all there is. Yes, I'm married, and I love my husband B, and I'm concerned for his comfort and his happiness... but there is no contest between him and Dillon... if my child needs, he gets... if he's curious, I will find a way to satisfy his curiosity... if he's hungry, he gets fed first, no matter who else is hungry... if he's bored, something gets done to entertain him, or tempt his mind... to teach him something. I don't indulge his every whim because I don't want him to be spoiled rotten... spoiled, yes, but rotten -no. If he throws a tantrum, he's ignored... no attention for bad behavior. If he shows a healthy interest in something, it's encouraged.
I used to say I'd die for any member of my family... that's nothing compared to what I'd go through for my son. I'd endure torture for my son. I put aside my own likes, dislikes, wants and desires... all that matters is that Dillon feel loved and safe and secure... and that he be surrounded by love and peace.
3/29/2009 INFANTILE COMMUNICATIONI have often thought that babies have a language all their own... they understand what they're saying even though the rest of us don't have much of a clue. As to whether babies understand one another... I think to a certain extent they do, but I don't think actual speech is required... at least, not all the time. I have seen complete (I believe) conversations take place with gestures, small sounds, raised or squinched eyebrows, mouth shapes, and body language between my son and other babies. I say complete conversations because there is an obvious greeting, (Dillon gets a big smile on his face and he says "Heyyyy!!"), the "body" of the communication over a few minutes time, and then an obvious dismissal of eachother... after which both babies have contented, "At least I got my point across" looks on their faces and they move on to the next thing... whatever that may be.
As for communication between myself and my son... it's very interesting, and rather frustrating... to us both I think. One of the first words he ever said was "Deuce" for Juice... which now is more clearly "Juice"... or he'll say "bah bah" for his "bottle". There are other obvious words... or, what he uses for words to describe certain things... such as; "bops", which are grapes; "naaanaaas", obviously, banana's - not to be confused with "Naahhnuuuhhh", his paternal grandmother (sounds a lot alike and sometimes only the body language or hand gestures make the distinction).
He says "gog" for dog, "this" and "that" very clearly are just what he's saying, "bup" is sippy cup, "mama" or "mamayeee" is my name, and "dada" or "dadayeee" for his father. He says "skichchk" for chicken, and will answer "essss" for yes and a clear, drawn out "noooooo?" (always sounds like a question) for no. If he needs his diaper changed and I ask him if he wants me to do it, he blows air out between his lips vibrating them as if to say "yeah, it's yucky in there", sometimes he will even bring me a diaper... here mom... get the hint?
He says "bone" drawn out, very clearly, so I'll let him give doggie bones to our dog, Elvis. The word "ball" is very clear, and means just that.. he has a base ball, a basket ball (miniature), a foot ball (actually he has one nerf, one leather, and three stuffed), several wiffle balls, cloth balls, small plastic balls for various toys, and a couple of bouncy balls of different sizes... can you guess what his daddy wants him to do when he grows up? Might have something to do with BALLS... and actually I don't think B cares what kind, as long as Dillon is involved with some kind of sport through school, and if he has the smallest ounce of ability, that he pursues it as far as he can.
He will put his tiny finger on a button and say "Butt?" a zillion times a day... I think it's one of his favorite words. Pointing to any light, on or off, he says "laaa?", and most recently, his favorite question "Eh?" is reserved for when in the bath tub and he sits down in the water filling the tub, grabs hold of his privates and pulls as if to take them off... I always answer "penis... that's Dillon's penis" and he responds with the sound of the letter "p"... "Puh? Puh?", and I say "yes, baby, that's Dillon's penis". He smiles and goes on with his bath, gatherin his floaty toys and identifying them... "baaaaalll?" "duck?"
Dillon will point to a tiny picture of a duck on the plastic travel case for his baby wipes and very clearly identify it... "DUCK". When Sesame Street comes on it's a loud "uhMOHHHHH" for Elmo, and "BAAAAAAA" for Barney (stupid big purple dinosaur... I never wanted my child to like that show, but what can I do? His dad got him into it, and of course... the kid is in love). He clearly says "Ba Baiii", with a southern accent (I dreaded that happening... I feel like moving IMMEDIATELY to avoid any further contamination... :) for "bye bye" and waves both hands, palms up and fingers curling back toward himself.
Once in a while I truly believe he says phrases, or sentences... which are clearly understood... though I'm not sure if he actually means them as what they are when he says them. "I yah you" was also one of the first things he said, and though I think he can say it clearly, and he knows what it means, he reserves it for very quiet times, like waking up in the middle of the night, and said very softly... almost making me think I've immagined it... in response to me cuddling him and soothing him back to sleep... all the while telling him "I love you baby... I love you so much... you know mama loves you, right?... you're ok... shhhhh..." and then he says it.
That's the intelligible communication between us. Then there's all the stuff I guess at... which sometimes I think impresses him because I guess correctly, but most often frustrates the poor little dude terribly because I haven't got a clue. He'll be jabbering on... often making exactly the same sounds over and over, using hand gestures and trying to lead me where he wants me to go, or show me what he wants me to see... and I'm clueless. I guess... is THIS what you want? No? Ok, what is it Dillon? Oh... is it this? (hope in my voice) No? Ok, I'm sorry baby... what is it? Tell mama... and he looks at me as if to say "are you kidding? I've been telling you for 10 minutes now and you're still clueless"... and we try again. Often either he or I will give up in frustration and a desire to just move on... when he does I'm gratefull... when I do he's annoyed and kicks up a bit of a fuss until I can distract him... at which time he completely forgets what he originally wanted... for a while. He will invariably get reminded at some point and try again... that's good though, right? Persistence is a good thing to develop... and patience, which he's sorely lacking.
It's all such a wonderful journey for me. I am having a blast with my little Doo... his nick names have grown from just "Doobie" to either "Doobie Doo" or "Doobie" or "Doo" or "Dewie"... or a long drawn out "Dewwwwwwww"... he answers to them all... including his real name, "Dillon". His dady calls him "Buddy", which he also answers to. I wonder if he knows what his real name is? Even our friends in church call him "Dew" or "Doobie".
We play together with his musical toys every day. I read his little cardboard books to him... over and over and over again, and very seldom from front to back... usually he hands one to me opened to a page, where I start reading, and I often only get to read just that one page, or a couple of pages along, and then he takes back the book and mumble-reads a page to me before being done with it, discarding it, and moving on to the next thing on his agenda... and he does have an agenda. I know this because if I should happen to suggest something, or begin to do something I might be interested in... if I initiate playing with something that wasn't part of his original agenda he very clearly stops me, removes whatever it is I'm playing with, and pointedly gets me involved with what HE had in mind... no mama, not the helicopter with music and balls, we're going to play with my red barn with the music and animals instead. Or, no, I don't want to read a book now, here's my BAAAALLLLLL, and he'll chuck it at me.
I try to make his television programs interactive, rather than passive. I read that television encourages passive learning and so makes it more difficult for children once they go to school to be interested in interactive learning, which is of course what they NEED to be able to do in order to succeed in school. I'll get him clapping with the kids on the programs, or dancing, or point out colors and compare them to his clothing or toys. I'll sing with the songs, the a b c's or counting or whatever they're singing and grab Dillon up and dance around the room with him. He laughs and claps and really gets into it.
Well, that's enough for now. Can you tell my favorite subject any more is my little man? He is my best. He is my love. My miracle and my life from now until eternity... I can't get enough of him. I'll try to post some pictures here soon... I have to find my download cord for my camera first though. I'll post more soon. Take care! 3/27/2009 HE'S AMAZINGI have a friend, "C", who is going to have open heart surgery tomorrow morning. He's a wonderful person, so kind and caring... a good father, a good Christian, a good husband to his wife of almost 31 years, and a good friend to my husband since they were children. My husband, B, used to "run with" C's brother... they were inseparable for many years. When they got older and both had families and responsibilities, my husband (who was not my husband back then) went the way of drugs and drinking, and his buddy went the way of responsible adult, working and taking care of his family... they drifted apart. That was when B got closer to C... they partied together.
Years later, after they'd lost contact with one another, B found out that C was saved. For 8 years B had that knowledge in the back of his drunk and drugging mind. Every time he thought he'd like to get out of the party scene... every time he thought that maybe he could do it, he had C in his mind as proof it could be done... as an encouragement to making changes in his own life. Each time he heard about C it was good news... he was still going to church, he had his own business and it was doing well, his family was well and most of them were in church regularly... B could look at that and hope that one day he'd have the strength to ask God's forgiveness for the things he'd done in his life, and hopefully begin to live a good, clean, blessed life... like C was doing.
Oddly enough, after B and I found out I was pregnant on August 2, 2007, B admitted he'd gone back to drinking and drugging (which he'd been telling me he was NOT doing back then), and he said he needed God's help to stop, he couldn't do it on his own (he said this to get me to be patient with him and hang on with him hoping he'd change)... he said we were going to go to church. We didn't go... weeks went by. Then, finally, mid month, B woke me up one Sunday morning and said we were going to church. I said ok and got dressed... I asked which one we were going to and he said he didn't know... we'd just drive around and see where God directed us to go. OK. We got in the car and he started driving. We didn't drive around... we drove straight to New Haven Church.. DIRECTLY... no circles, no extra turns, no backtracking, no asking for directions or finding a flyer to guide us... GOD drove the car straight there.
I hadn't been in a church in years, and I was feeling a little apprehensive about going. From the second we walked in the door, I felt like I'd come home. Now, their practices during worship were very different from anything I'd ever dealt with before... these people shouted "Halelujah" and "Glory" and "Amen" all through the service... there were shouts of "Tell it Brother!" and "Oh yeah!" and "Come on!" during the entire service, from all over the congregation. When the Pastor was praying... out loud for the congregation, as I am used to seeing done in a Church, members from all over the sanctuary were praying too... OUT LOUD... as if they were the ones praying for the congregation... it was deafening... I could barely concentrate to hear the Pastor's words. Although this was confusing and a little... odd... to me, the feeling in the church was a loving one. The atmosphere was full of God... you could feel His Holy Spirit thick as fog in the room... it was almost as visible. All I could pray was THANK YOU GOD for bringing us to this church.
Even more amazing than the good feeling we got from everyone at this church were a few other things... first, the Pastor had known B since he was a child, and he was one of B's familie's best friends and closest spiritual advisors... B was immediately at home in his presence... second, B got a tap on the shoulder from someone in the pew behind us, and when he turned around to see who it was, it was C, his wife, and C's mother. WOW!! B was floored. He knew we were in the right place. I got goose bumps when B told me who they were and introduced me.
I had hope again... I thought, God surely had a hand in this... the service was unfamiliar and a little strange to me, but God wanted us there, I had no doubt... and if B was comfortable and happy, then only good could come of it.
Well, there's much more to the story after that, but this is about C... not the story of how B turned his life around. The point is that C was an integral part of it... he was involved even when he didn't know he was.
After we began going to church there regularly, we also started spending time with C and his wife and family. We took a trip to Gatlinburg together, and we went to Gospel concerts together, and out to dinner a lot, and they came over our house and we went over to theirs quite often... for a while almost every weekend.
I got close to them both. C's attributes of tender kindness, compassion, caring and loving disposition really drew me to him. He and I began talking more often... just by chance at first, he'd call to talk to B and B would be busy so we'd chat a while until B was available... then we'd offer to call one another to impart some information on one thing or another... then I was trying to understand things B was doing and C could see my unhappiness and he would offer me a shoulder to cry on (figuratively speaking), and some insight into B's actions that perhaps I hadn't thought of.
Well, to make a year long story short, C and I became close... as did his wife and myself... they were the only people I could really talk to... similar backgrounds and them knowing B almost better than I could know him... them being longer term christians than B and I, and therefore examples to us... lots of things just drew me to them over time.
Now C has 90% blockage in one of his ventricles of his heart. He's been in the hospital two days now, during which they first did an EKG which seemed fine, then to be sure they kept him and did a radioactive isotope nuclear stress test on him the next morning, which he failed miserably, letting the doctors know there must be some blockage, so they scheduled a heart catheter test for the following morning (yesterday), and he failed that one too... well, actually it wasn't a pass or fail, but a "how bad is it" test... they could have put a stint in then and there if it wasn't bad. It was bad... 90% blocked. So now he's scheduled for open heart surgery in the morning, and I feel terrible that I can't be there... I'm working until 7 am, at which time I have to take care of my baby, who is usually awake by then.
B is going to go to the hospital and sit and wait with C's wife... he didn't even want to do that and I stressed how important it was... B is jealous of my friendship with C... but then again B is jealous of my friendship with anyone who takes my time or enery away from him for even a second. He's so manipulative of me that he'll just keep saying snide things and making rude comments to me about something until he's got me doing exactly what he wants how he wants me to do it just so I can get him to shut up.
B can't stand it that I've pointed out C's good qualities that I admire to him from time to time as something B could learn from... it irks him... oh well. Perhaps if B worked on his qualities a little... gave me more attention... treated me with a little respect and didn't belittle me in front of other people... perhaps if B recognized my good attributes once in a while rather than always harping on my bad ones... so much so that he makes me doubt my self, then I wouldn't notices so markedly someone else who actually does recognize and SAY it, when I do something nice or special. Perhaps I wouldn't have to point out the marked difference in how they treat strangers... in what kind of friends they are... in how they treat their wives... or their children.
I don't care if B is jealous of C. That's his own problem. C and I have done nothing inappropriate... we have never stepped over the best friend's wife.... husbands best friend line... we don't meet for lunch or spouse bash or anything like that. I appreciate C for his qualities and insight into B's actions... I appreciate his advice and his sense of humor and love of God. I think he appreciates the same things in me. If B can't be a grown up and just deal with that, then too bad for him.
At this point in time, I'm afraid for my good friend, who I love very much. I am praying constantly for God to let C get well... for God to guide the surgeons hands in the morning and make them fix C's problems and for God to let him stay here on earth with his loved ones for a little while more. C wants to see his grandkids grow up... he wants to spend twilight years with his wife and family, and he wants to continue his ministry for God... please God, give him his wishes.
Selfishly, I pray, Dear God, please don't take C out of my life either... so many times his counsel and love has helped me through a bad time with B... so many times when I thought I was at the end of my rope I turned to C and he comforted me and told me to pray the pain away... C has helped me get closer to you, God... more than my own husband has... please don't let him die. These are my prayers for C... please God.. protect him, and whatever happens, let it be according to Your perfect will. In Jesus's name, Amen.
3/22/2009 CHANGESAs I think of the last year and a half of my life I realize that I've not only gone through a lot of changes, physically and emotionally, but also in how I look at life, in how I plan my future, and with regard to what I will and will not accept in my life now.
As for physical changes, I went through a pregancy... that was VERY interesting. Getting a bigger tummy than I already have was not such a horrid thing, though being able to legitimately wear maternity clothes was fun... I could finally answer YES to the "are you expecting" question... which I've been asked many times by many people over the years... just because of the way I carry my extra poundage... much of it around my middle. That was a dreaded question for so long... and then I wanted people to ask... I would volunteer the info if those around me just glanced with a question in their eyes... proud to finally be able to say I was pregnant.
Strangely enough, though I guess it's because I was so careful with what I ate and drank while I was pregnant, I actually was thinner after giving birth (well, cesaerean birth) than I was before. I was thinner than I'd been in years, and it felt good. All my clothes were big and hanging on me, and despite my swolen abdomen (which I was told was completely normal and would last from a couple of months to a year before it went down to normal again) I was still smaller. Yay! If other changes in my life hadn't taken over my life, I might have kept it off... however... that didn't happen, and I gained it all back within about 6 months.
As for how I've changed emotionally... well, the focus of my life has shifted... it's not me, or my husband any more... now everything is for, because of, in mind of, planning for, and living for my son. Should I buy these shoes? Well, first, do we have enough diapers, wipes, his favorite foods, snacks... then household groceries, then gas in the car, then bills paid... and by then, the answer is no... there isn't enough money. The thing is though, I don't mind. As long as my little Doo has what he needs, everything else can be worked out or done without... and I don't mind. I would think I'd resent it, but I don't... I actually like knowing that if I'm not getting stuff, it's because my little man is.
Prior to Dillon's birth I would just do whatever I wanted to do whenever I wanted to do it. If bills had to wait because I felt like using my money to take a weekend trip, then so be it. If I was living with $5 in my pocket for a week because I was making up for misspending money the week before, that was ok because it was just me and I could make do with whatever I had in the fridge and cabinets to eat, and put my last dollar in the gas tank to get back and forth to work. If I had a few extra dollars I could buy family birthday and holiday gifts and it was no big deal... I felt good doing it.
Now it's different. I didn't worry about anything before... not material things anyway. I didn't care what neighborhood I lived in... it was just me. I didn't care who I hung out with... it only affected me, and I am grown up enough and independant enough to listen to and absorb what I want and disregard or discard what I don't. Whether or not I had a successful career didn't affect anyone but myself... whether or not I had a job with benefits didn't matter either... I'd worry about that when I got older and needed medical care on a regular basis... I could handle my diabetes myself. Now all of those things DO matter because I have a son. I care where he's raised and around whom. I care what he hears and sees around him. I care that I don't have a long lasting career that will provide for him for years to come. I care that I have no health insurance and so have to rely on state programs for his health care (thank goodness Georgia has good programs for children). I care that I have no life insurance to make him comfortable if something happens to me. I care that my diabetes is not as under control as it should be... as it would be with regular doctor's visits... because it affects my energy level and my mentality, and that spills over to what I have or don't have to offer my Dillon each day.
I used to worry all the time about my husband and his attitudes... what he'd want me to do or not do... how he was going to react to something I did, or something I'd said... what he wanted and when... not obsessed, but constantly aware of his needs and desires so that I could, first, please him (so that he would love me more), and second, avoid conflict or fights (so that he would love me more and I didn't have to deal with the emotional pain of the discord). Now, I don't worry so much about him.
I don't really care if we have conflicts, or if he's completely happy with me or not... it doesn't matter as much as making sure my child is raised in love and peace. If there are difficulties between B and I, I don't want them expressed around or in front of my son... I don't want that in his head, so now, if B gets angry, I remove myself and my Doo from the area and leave B to stew in his own anger. If he's unhappy with something, I think for a minute to determine if it's my fault or not, I don't just assume it is any more... if it's his own hang up or something I am not responsible for or able to change easily, I either tell him that I can't or am not willing to do anything about it and leave it up to him to handle after that, or I just ignore him completely and concentrate on making sure my child is stress free and happy.
Sometimes it's difficult to do that... B has a very harsh tone to his voice just naturally, so when he's angry or upset, even if he's not actually yelling, his voice can sound very angry and stern... and I see it affect Dillon. Even when B is just yelling at the dog (always using terms that I'd rather my son not hear on a regular basis... thing's like "I'll KILL you Elvis (dogs name)... I'll just KILL you!!" or he'll say "I'll bust you in the mouth Elvis" or sometimes, in a kind of stern mocking tone, not just to the dog, but even to Dillon sometimes "Are you crazy or something? HUH? You crazy?". He says he's just teasing... just saying stuff fooling around that he doesn't mean, but I don't like those terms going into my son's very impressionable sponge of a brain.
B just thinks I'm ragging on him... that all I do is look for reasons to disapprove of him... he gets all offended when I point out the inappropriate terms saying, that's who he is, and he's sorry that I don't like who he is. I tell him that it's not WHO he is, because who he is happens to be a nice decent guy, it's who he acts like... it's how he expresses himself without thinking... it's a throw back to who he used to be, who he used to have to "put out there" for self preservation when he was running with a really rough crowd.
I suppose there are things I put up with before from B... things that really didn't affect me much anyway, so who cared whether he did them or not? For example, all the shows he likes to watch are violent... Dog the Bounty Hunter, Cops, Ultimate Fighting, Prison stories, etc. In the past, I'd just go into another room... or get on the computer, and leave him to watch those things. Now, if the baby is awake, I don't want him watching them... I don't want that kind of stuff being absorbed into my child's brain... especially not at this age... these are his formative years and I'd prefer his mind be filled with educational things, or shows appropriate for a toddler's mind... and I insist on that, which really upsets B.
In the past I put up with, though I made sure B understood I was upset by it, many comments B would make that were very racial in nature. Saying he's "not going to Walmart... that place is slap full of Mexicans", or some other comment that specifically mentioned color, or race or nationality, always bothered me, and I let him know it, but it didn't make much difference, he'd do it anyway... kindof laughing as if it were a joke, but making statements as if they were truths. I argued so many times with him over it, and he always would say he wasn't prejudiced... I would argue that just to have to mention a persons color, race, nationality or religion in relation to who they were, or how they believed, or something they did or didn't do WAS prejudiced and/or judgmental... no matter what he said. People are just people I'd say, and there is never a reason to have to pidgeon hole them or assume they were one way or another based on their color, race, nationality or religion... we are all just children of GOD.
Now I actually get angry whenever he makes those comments... especially in front of my son... I don't want my child growing up thinking like that, and hearing it will put it in his head. B gets upset at me for mentioning it, and he says I misunderstand, he's just fooling around, or he doesn't mean it "that way"... well, Doo is a baby, he doesn't know how to separate... he can'd discern what is inappropriate or not. Unfortunately, B just thinks it's one more thing for me to rag on him about... one more thing I don't like about him... one more thing for me to try to change about him.
A whole new world of worry has opened up for me. I know much is beyond my control, and I'm trying to learn not to stress about those things... the state of the economy in this country and where we're headed politically - I never cared before... I just lived my life the best I could and left all that silly stuff to the politicians and economists. I worry that we might end up in worse wars than we have in a long time and the government will have a draft again and my poor son will be just the right age when it happens (why am I worrying about something that might never happen, and if it does, would be 18 or more years from now?). I think about the killings in schools across the country... stray bullets from drive bys... drunk drivers... corner drug dealers... people in the neighborhood who might have meth labs in their homes which would, on a windy day, affect my sons health... corrupt and or perverted educators or authority figures who might affect my son adversely... the list goes on. I never gave much thought to those things before I had Dillon... I mean, I thought about them and anguished over the disgraceful state of affairs, but not in relation to me or anyone I knew and loved... not with personal fear.
I know that GOD has watched over me all my life. HE has kept me from doing things with negative, long lasting results. HE has directed me to persons I could help, persons who could help me, and to living in places where I was relatively safe, or oblivious to the potential dangers. I have been blessed to have wonderful people in my life... some who hurt me, yes, but even those persons were blessings to me in one way or another, and I learned something from everything and everyone in my life.
I know that GOD has given me my little miracle baby... that HE will continue to watch out over me, and of course, now, over my little man also. I know that the knowledge of that truth should make me less worried and less concerned... but the imperfect human that I am still can't help but worry or stress over so much. I wish I were strong enough to just turn it all over to GOD and let HIM take care of it all... but I'm not. Not any more. Having my son somehow took the self confidence I had and made it a mush. Where before I just KNEW everything would be fine, now I KNOW it, but... what if? I don't doubt GOD or his abilities... but I doubt myself, and so I worry.
I'm sure as time goes on I'll find a healthier balance to all of this, and I know I'll be making my decisions based on (1) What the correct thing to do is in GOD's eyes (as far as I know) and (2) What's the best thing for my son... everything else will fall into place, I hope.
3/15/2009 MIRACLES DO HAPPENKnowing I was actually pregnant changed my whole life. First, I began to try to analyze HOW it had finally happened. Why now? What had I done different? Third husband's a charm? Was it the fact that almost all the sexual relations between B and I was with me on top (that's another issue entirely, but basically, his knees are messed up so variety of position is practically non existant... sigh... I miss the variety)? Was all the partying he and I were doing somehow responsible for changing my chemical makeup or something (and about all that partying... I certainly hoped I hadn't damaged my baby... I would have all the tests... every one of them possible... to make sure he was going to be ok... wow... I was scared!)? Did I somehow change my acidity (I couldn't remember eating differently).
I counted back to when I got pregnant and the most logical time (actually the ONLY time I could come up with) was the first week when we'd moved into our new home... first week in April... just before mom came to visit, and she stayed in the new house without electricity while B and I were still, mostly, living at my job. B and I had stayed in the house for four days before mom arrived and we'd "baptized" the house... a lot. Then I counted the days to when I should give birth, and the doctor's estimate was January 17th, and mine was December 17th... I knew my son would be born on that day.
The only thing I could come up with that was different... that could account for my finally being pregnant... and pregnant enough that no amount of worrying could cause me to emotionally abort or miscarry this child, was that I had prayed to God. Seriously. In December of 2006 I just knew I was pregnant although my ept test was inconclusive... not dark enough to be a definite positive, but not blank either. I was soooo thrilled. I hadn't told anyone for fear I would lose it like I had the others, and I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up. I calculated how pregnant I thought I was... over 8 weeks I thought, I had waited to tell B. Once I told him, he made sure I made an appointment at the Health Department... the soonest they could see me was two weeks away unless I wanted to wait in long lines. I told my sister, and my mom... I'd made it to almost 3 months.. I just knew I was going to have this one. The morning I went to the appointment I told B I was terrified they would tell me I wasn't pregnant any more... I had woken up with a sinking feeling in my body, and I didn't FEEL pregnant any more... but that had to just be fear... nerves... I was being silly.
I went anyway and they said I wasn't pregnant. I was hysterical... couldn't even drive out of the parking lot. I called B and sobbed into the phone... he was sympathetic and offered to come get me... I pulled myself together and drove to his office where he held me for a while, assured me we would try again, and told me that I'd have to pray to God if I wanted to have a baby. Later that day I began my menstruation.
I called my mom, my sister, and my aunt... and every one of them, in their own words, told me that I'd have to forgive myself for the abortion I'd had when I was 20, and I'd have to ask God's forgiveness and ask him for a child if I were ever to carry to term. Everyone was convinced that my many miscarriages were a matter of emotional trauma and self-punishment. It was really the only explanation as the many doctors I'd seen told me that there was nothing wrong with me... I should be able to conceive and carry to term.
I wandered around in agonized shock for a couple of weeks. Then one day I was sitting in my car in the parking lot of the Health Department where I'd gone to visit B - he was overseeing some workers there or waxing a floor... something that weekend, and I just broke down again, remembering the last time I had been in that parking lot. I started crying at the remembrance of my lost children... and I cried over the loss of the baby I'd murdered years before by having an abortion. There was no medical reason for me to kill that child, and at the time I knew what I was doing... I knew I was killing a gift from God. My reasons for doing so seemed important at the time, but looking back they were selfish and unrealistic, and I could never forgive myself for doing it.
The voices and advice of the people who love me began echoing in my head. My sister telling me that I was going to have to forgive myself... my mom telling me the same thing and that I'd have to ask God's forgiveness and leave it in His hands... B telling me that God loves me, and that I'm a good person, and that if I believed in God's grace I would have my baby... my aunt telling me that even if I couldn't forgive myself I had to ask God to forgive me because it was His forgiveness I needed in order to carry a baby to term.
With big fat tears of remorse coursing down my cheeks and my eyesight blurred so that all I saw was a kind of blue blurry light I knelt down mentally before GOD, and placing my hands on the stearing wheel and my head bent I begged GOD from the depths of my being... with my whole heart and soul... I cried out to HIM to forgive me for killing the child HE'd given me so many years before. I told HIM I knew I was not worthy of forgiveness... and that I knew I had killed that child... that I knew it was a child from conception, even back then, and that I knew my reasons back then were terrible and selfish, but that I couldn't carry the weight of the guilt any longer... it was eating me up and affecting every aspect of my life... I couldn't move on so I had to ask GOD to take the pain from me. I said, if HE felt I could be a good mom, perhaps HE could let me have a child... just one would be fine... before it was physically too late for me to do so as I was already 41 years old. I promised to raise it according to the guidelines HE laid out, and I told HIM I realized I didn't deserve HIS forgiveness, and I wouldn't blame HIM if HE didn't think I deserved a baby, but if HE thought it was ok to give me one I'd do right this time, and I'd be the happiest person in the world and praise HIM and HIS kindness to everyone I met.
I relaxed for the first time in years. All of a sudden, a feeling of peace and calm swept over me. I knew I'd been forgiven. Now it was up to GOD... I didn't have to think about it any more... and I didn't. Really truly, I stopped trying to get pregnant. I didn't wonder if I was pregnant the moment B and I were intimate... I didn't beat myself up every day over the abortion any more... I had given it to GOD. I just gave up the fight. I was truly ok with it if GOD decided I didn't deserve to be a mother... I wouldn't blame HIM a bit.
Over the next couple of months B and I concentrated on getting our new house put together and I looked forward to my mom's visit.
After we were in the new house I concentrated on setting it up, and on my job, and on B. We were happy, still partying and having fun, and doing relatively well financially. My aunt moved out here and I helped her get a job with my company so that she could live in the office while she looked for a house to buy. She and I drove all over north Georgia looking at homes and land. We spent hours scouring web sites for new listings and reduced prices.
I began to feel really yucky all the time. It got worse and worse. I was naseus all the time... every time I ate I felt like I was stomach sick and wanted to throw up. My body began to ache everywhere and I began to have stomach pains.. shooting pains that I couldn't attribute to anything. My mind got fuzzy and I had trouble concentrating, and I began to make silly mistakes at work... nothing earth shattering, but uncharacteristic for me. I was exhausted constantly... just after I'd wake up from a full night's sleep I'd be worn out again. I began taking naps whenever I could get them. I became excessively gassy... burping all the time no matter what I ate... my aunt even commented on it and we had quite a few moments of hysterical laughter over it. I started having heart burn no matter what I did, so I carried Tums with me all the time and I started trying to pay more attention to what I ate and when.
I'd described my symptoms to my aunt and she asked if I could be pregnant... I said no, that wasn't possible, and I didn't give the possibility another thought. I talked to my mom about my symptoms and she asked if I could be pregnant... I said no, I didn't think I could get pregnant ever again, and I didn't think about it again... same with my sister, and my sister in law... I actually got upset that everyone kept asking me if I could be pregnant... didn't they all know that wasn't possible anymore?
I put my symptoms into the computer... on the web md site, and it suggested gall bladder - well, could be... my sister and aunt both had had theirs out. It suggested appendix... well, could be... I did have sharp pains sometimes where they indicated, and my stomach was a little hard on the side there. It suggested cancer - well, everyone in my family has that capability... it's hereditary isn't it? Paternal grandfather died of lung cancer... cousin had cervical cancer... maternal grandmother had cervical cancer... and some of the "great" relatives had had it too, I thought. It suggested pregnancy... nope... that one wasn't possible.
I literally, completely and ultimately dismissed any and all suggestions or possibilities that I could be pregnant. That had to be GOD blocking the possibilities from my mind so that I couldn't worry this child gone... so that I couldn't cause an emotional miscarriage before the baby had an opportunity to get really entrenched in my womb. How amazing is GOD? Really... to be delivered from such self condemnation so completely that my body underwent such a drastic change resulting in my not only getting pregnant, but in staying pregnant. I didn't go to a doctor to find out what was wrong with me until I was 16 weeks pregnant. GOD is amazing. I can never thank HIM enough... I can never stress enough how humbled I am at HIS graciousness and kindness to me.
Wow, this is a long story, huh? I have more to tell... especially right after we found out I was pregnant... so much happened so quickly... I'll write more tomorrow. I'll have to kind of wind it up tomorrow or wait until I come back to work again next Thursday night.
Thanks for reading this, and for all the support I've been given over the years by all my lovely blogging friends.
3/14/2009 PURE JOYI am perfectly aware that children are an incredible responsibility. I know that as the years progress I will experience the depths of despair and incredible confusion over things my son does and does not do. I have been told by many parents of the trials and tribulations that are part and parcel to the raising of good, not so good, and terrible children... who are loved and adored and doted on regardless of how they turn out - always room for redemption and all that.
I must say... Dillon is almost 15 months old (on the 16th) and I am having the time of my life! I always knew I wanted to be a mama... I wanted it when I was younger so that I could play with my children (I planned on having 13 if I could manage it)... however, GOD had other ideas.
To continue my previous story of the day I found out I was miraculously pregnant...
The technician returned to roll me back down the hallway to the tiny waiting room to face the nice doctor. A million things were going through my mind. First and foremost, running in a never ending loop around my brain was the biggest prayer of thanksgiving I'd ever said... it was the most heartfelt... from the depths of my soul I kept "hearing" myself say (sometimes out loud and all the time in a silent scream inside) "THANK YOU GOD!!! I PROMISE TO RAISE THIS CHILD IN YOUR TEACHINGS... THANK YOU GOD!!! HOW CAN I THANK YOU ENOUGH? THANK YOU MY ALMIGHTY WONDERFUL INCREDIBLE LOVING AND FORGIVING GOD!!! THANK YOU FOR FORGIVING ME... THANK YOU FOR MY BEAUTIFUL PRESENT... THANK YOU FOR MY MIRACLE!!!"
Not one minute after I got there the sweet roly poly doctor came in with a huge smile on his face. He said, matter of factly, "I told you! Do you believe me now? (I nodded silently and smiled... probably the biggest smile of my life.) I have the results of your ultrasound and your baby looks fine. You are 16 weeks pregnant." I gasped... What? 16 weeks? Four months pregant? How... I couldn't... wow!! Are you sure? Really? He smiled at me with his ultra bright white smile and looked kindly at me through his round wire rimmed glasses.
I asked if I could call my husband and tell him the news. B had called once since I'd gotten to the hospital almost 5 hours before and had asked me to keep him informed as to my condition. I was still angry at him for leaving me there all alone, and for not taking me in the first place, so I determined that I would tell him what I wanted, when I wanted, and he could just deal with that. If he wanted to know more he could make the effort and come down to the hospital and talk to the doctors on my behalf as any decent, caring, loving man SHOULD do when his wife is in the hospital... for any reason. I figured NOW was a good time to let him know my "condition"... I actually DID have a "condition"... imagine that!
I got B on the phone and told him he might want to come down there and talk to the doctor himself. He sounded scared and asked me what was wrong... I took piti on him... once I heard his concerned voice I couldn't keep him in the dark any longer. I said "the doctors are telling me I'm pregnant... actually 16 weeks pregnant. (Sharp indrawn breath on the other end of the phone and then silence) You might want to come down yourself and hear it first hand." "Ill be right there". he said, and hung up.
B showed up a few minutes later and heard what the doctor had to say. I was beaming... glowing... ecstatic. B was... silent. I asked him if he was happy and he said he was happy for me. That was a bit of a downer... after all a wife likes to hear that the father of her baby is as happy as she is... and when the response is a forced "happy for you"... it's a bit of a wet blanket. Not much could get me down though... not for long. I was so incredibly happy that the thought "oh well, if he's not happy, that's his problem... I don't need him... if he wants out, he can have out... I'll raise this baby myself" just materialized all at once... all together into a single thought, and B's less than enthusiastic response was dismissed as inconsequential.
B went back to work. I called my aunt and she was overjoyed for me. I called my sister and she was flabergasted and crying with happiness for me... it was so hard for those in my life who had suffered with me over the years because of my failed attempts to become a mother to embrace the news as permanent. I'd lost too many in the past. Everyone was afraid to hope for me. I began to work at convincing them (and myself, I think) that THIS time was for real... THIS time I hadn't found out at 4 weeks, or 6 weeks... I'd been oblivious (thank you GOD again) for a whole 16 weeks... the baby was permanent now... it wasn't going anywhere.
The next day I enrolled in Medicare (they'll give free healthcare to a pregnant woman, regardless of age - thank GOD) and signed up for WIC which would give me free cheese, cereal, milk and eggs during my pregancy, a class to learn how to breast feed, a class on how to put a car seat in properly (and be given one for $10 just for taking the class), and scheduled my first ultrasound (that I would get to watch) for a week away (the soonest they had).
Every agency I contacted signed me up immediately... I was considered a very high risk pregnancy. Being overweight, diabetic (uncontrolled) and 41 years old made me and my baby high priority. The doctors I met were wonderful. They got me to regulate my sugars immediately.... it took me only one month to bring my sugars down from an average of 260 to an average of 100. I quit smoking the day I found out I was pregnant, and I began taking pregnancy vitamins immediately. NOTHING was going to hurt my baby... especially not me.
My aunt accompanied me to my first ultrasound appointment... B had to work. I was happy to have her with me... actually preferred she be there to share in my elation... I knew she wouldn't bring me down and I knew she was truly happy about it. We went into the room when called and met Dr. A. He was a very nice man, well groomed and slightly distracted, but very kind, and almost embarassed when having to examine me... it was actually kind of sweet seeing as he probably sees 50 people a day... most of whom are pregnant women, I'm sure. He explained that they would tape the session and get pictures and video on DVD for me to take home.... YAY!!!
I held my breath as they (the doctor and his assistant) spread goopy stuff on my tummy and began to manipulate a flanged wand over my abdomen... a bit low, I thought... and I caught a glimpse of what looked like a bean with a big head on the monitor. I stopped breathing. I waited... searching the screen as my eyes got blurry with the tears that had welled up in them and were now sliding silently out of the corners, down my cheeks and into my hair as I laid there straining to see. I heard my aunt gasp and she started to half laugh half cry as she was able to identify the baby. The doctor was impressed at how clearly the baby was outlined, and he began clicking and typing furiously into his computer... taking pictures and indicating things with highlighted arrows... "This is the heart... sounds about right... here... here we have the spine... that string of pearls there... see it? Ok... here is the head... let me get a measurement so we can better determine the age... see these dark areas? The eyes... and here a nose.... that's an arm... looks like it's waving doesn't it..." As the doctor continued his analysis and continued explaining, my aunt and I were holding hands and marveling.... there was a BABY in me... a real BABY. Wow. Really... WOW!
After the exam I went straight to B's office hoping he was there... the DVD burning a hole in my hand. I got there, bustled him out of his seat and popped it into the laptop on his desk. After setting it up I sat him down and pushed the play button. That's when it hit B that he was about to be a father again. I saw it when it hit him. BAM!!! It was a physical shock to him. He smiled weakly at me... through his own tears. He reached out for me and pulled me to his side and placed one hand on my tummy while the other one hit the 'play' button again.... there was our baby... clear as could be... a perfect outline of the side view of a child, and then the front of a face staring at us... and a hand waving... and an arrow pointing to a spot where it said "boy". They weren't definite, but it was fairly obvious that our child was going to be a boy.
I e-mailed copies to everyone I knew... and I'm pretty sure several people I didn't know. I printed copies of the still shots and carried them with me everywhere... showed strangers my miracle baby in lines at the super market... praised GOD to everyone who would listen, and even to those who would rather not have listened and who rolled their eyes when they thought I wasn't looking, but who couldn't help but be swept away in my excitement by the end of my story... no one could resist feeling great after hearing my miraculous story... my baby was blessing people before it was even born. Before HE was even born. No one in my path escaped the story... the joy exuding from me was palpable. My life was perfect. Almost.
To be continued.
3/13/2009 NEW LIFEHello all!! Forgive me friendly bloggers, it's been over a year since my last blog. Since then I have done many things, gone many places, thought many thoughts (quite a few of them about you all) and actually (gasp!) had a baby. Yay!!!! Yup. A baby. Me. The person who wanted a child since she was 6 years old... who always answered "a mother and wife" when asked the question "what do you want to be when you grow up?" After 22 years of trying and failing miserably... 6 miscarriages and loads of despair and emotional agony, I found out on August 2nd, 2007, that I was 16 weeks pregnant. As I was being wheeled... wait, let me start from the beginning of that amazing day.
I was at work, as usual - I worked round the clock back then for ASAP Bonding Co (doubtless some of you will remember), and my aunt was there too... I don't remember if it was her shift... oh, no, she was living there at the office at that time - she'd just moved back to Georgia and was working a couple of days at ASAP to relieve me a little - and we were spending a LOT of time walking through houses and condo's for sale - she wanted to buy one... anyway, I was feeling really yucky... tummy aches - pains, headaches, dizzyness, muscle aches, too much belching (sorry, not attractive, but it's true), feeling disoriented, and sooooo sleepy... no amount of sleep could alleviate my tiredness. Finally I'd had enough and at my aunt's urging I called my husband, B, to come take me to the emergency room. With his usual amount of compassion and understanding (none) he asked why I couldn't drive myself over there... he was at work. Upset... well, actually hopping mad... I said "yeah, ok... why not" and hung up on him. My aunt offered to take me, but by then my anger at B was enough to give me the umph I needed to go on my own, and I left her in charge at the office and drove myself to the emergency room.
Once checked in I apologized for taking up their time with my "upset stomach and achiness - probably just a flu - but I just couldn't take it anymore" and was ushered into a tiny room to wait to be seen. A technician came in and took my blood after a very nice little roly poly of a man with round "John Lennon" glasses and the whitest smile you ever saw assured me that he was going to find out why I was hurting so much no matter how many tests it took. He asked if I could be pregnant and I assured him it was not possible for me to have a baby. Despite this, he said he was going to order a pregnancy test anyway, as well as a ct scan and ultrasound of the stomach. I was comforted, validated, and considerably calmer as I settled in for what I knew would be a lengthy wait... as anything done in an emergency room ALWAYS entails a lengthy wait... channel flipping and dozing on the hard as a board table like "bed" (I use that term extremely loosely).
After four hours without a return visit from the doctor, or anyone else for that matter, I thought I might venture out into the hallway and ask a nurse (or who ever was out there) if they had forgotten me, lost my blood, abandoned the hospital... something. I did so, and was assured by a very nice, although surprised looking nurse (I think they did in fact forget I was in there) that she would check on the progress of my lab work. She explained that they were having trouble in the lab, which was probably why it was taking so long, but she'd check. In the mean-time, she would send me for the CT scan of my stomach the doctor had ordered. True to her word, about two minutes later a nice young man came and settled me in a wheel chair to take me to get my CT scan and she told me that the doctor would be in with the results of my labs after I got back.
After making the trip to get my CT scan, and being returned to my room without having one (the technicians in the CT department refused to give me one because the labs were not back yet and they didn't have proof positive that I wasn't pregnant - and it didn't matter that I assured them I wasn't), the nice smiley roly poly doctor came in... smiling even wider and shaking his finger at me. "This is why we don't listen to our patients young lady" he wagged his finger... What did I do? I asked him in surprise... "you are not only pregnant, you are VERY pregnant" he said... and I called him a liar.
I said there was no way I could be pregnant... it wasn't possible. "Did a doctor tell you that?" he asked me, concerned. No... actually the doctors say I'm just fine and they don't know why I haven't been able to carry to term. "Did GOD say you couldn't get pregnant... because HE's the only one who could..." Nooooo..... (doubt and confusion in my voice as the tears began to fall) I just have never been able to carry... I've had 6 misscarriages (that I know about)... and I was crying even harder now as the possibility that it might be true seeped into my overwhelmed brain... "Is it a happy thing then?" he asked me, looking a bit concerned now, and I stuttered as I said OH... OH YES... I... I just didn't think it was possible.. I sill don't believe it... are you sure? He showed me the paperwork with my name on the top of it... which I couldn't read through my tears... all I saw was several lines with the word "elevated" at the end of them. I said are you sure there hasn't been a mix up in the lab? Those are probably someone else's results. The doctor said "I'm going to send you for an ultrasound and when you see that baby waving back at you from the screen, you'll know you're pregnant."
The nice technician with the wheel chair came back and he looked at me with concern - I don't blame him, by this time I was almost sobbing. He asked if I was ok and I almost yelled "YES" at him... explaining that a miracle might have taken place... I might actually be pregnant though I didn't truly believe it yet... over and over in my mind the prayer, the gratitude, the amazement was repeating itself "OH GOD, if it's true, THANK YOU!!!!.... If it's true GOD, THANK YOU!!!" over and over and over... all the way down the hall to the ultrasound room.
A very nice woman was there and she'd been briefed as to my situation. We spoke just enough to get me up on her table... though by this time all I could say was that I hoped it was true but didn't believe it - how could it be true? She got me set up for a vaginal ultrasound, and she proceeded... and then stopped. She said "I'm going to have to do an abdominal ultrasound... I can't see anything with a vaginal after the first tri-mester". HUH? After what? I looked at her and froze... I couldn't talk for a minute... then finally... "you mean I'm more than three months pregnant? you mean I'm actually pregnant? there's a baby in there?" She realized she'd let the cat out of the bag, which she wasn't supposed to do, so she smiled with understanding (and I think a little joy for me) and said "Yes". That was it. I couldn't stop crying now... she did the ultrasound and was kind enough to tell me all looked good, though I'd have to wait for official results from the doctor... and I wasn't allowed to see the screen at that time.
Got to go... to be continued... I promise. 11/21/2007 AMAZINGHello all. Yes, I know... it's been ages since my last blog, and I've made so many promises to try to get "regular" again, and here I am, sadly a pathetic blogger ignoring all her friends AGAIN. I'm sorry, but truly, when you hear all that's been happening, you'll understand, I'm sure. My biggest problem is WHERE TO START.
Ok. Here goes. Promised other stories were: (1) puppy news, (2) car news, (3) My Aunt Merce moving here news, (4) my cousin Pio moving here... and THAT's a story!, (5) new stuff with B and his job, (6) updates on mom, (7) updates on my friend from Columbus, GA and whatever else might have happened. Really, if I write all that's happened since June, the last time I blogged... I'll be here forever.
In the words of Enigo Montoya in "The Princess Bride", "Let me a-splain... no no, that's a too much... let me sum-up":
Puppy news: Elvis is now HUGE... probably around 70 lbs or so. He's absolutely beautiful, although a bit lacking in the brain department. B has COMPLETELY adopted him, finally... it was a process. Now, however, B and Elvis are best buddies. Elvis lives for B to come home from work and play with him. He jumps all over him, waits for him to sit in his lounge chair and climbs on top of him... literally ON top of B's lap, like a baby, and reaches up to lick his face. He gets treats and new bones almost daily, and they wrestle on the floor, play football and frisbee outside, and where B goes, Elvis follows. Other than B's rather volatile, though loving relationship with Simon the cat, I think this is the first time B has allowed himself to love an animal... ever... in all of his life. I think this is a good thing. People who can find it within themselves to love something small and generally more helpless than themselves seem to be more human to me... more down to earth.
Car news: Well now, this one has changed a couple of times. I know I put pictures of my "bought at auction" Mercedes in one of my blogs... or talked about it or something..so, since then... let's see, B traded his 89 Chevy pickup 4x4 for a 95 Ford pickup 4x4 which is prettier, runs a bit better, and is stick shift rather than automatic. He's got a car payment (to his boss) now, but no interest, and he can afford it, so it's cool. Also, since then we sold (well, barely sold) the Mercedes to B's uncle (who's wanted it since we got it... it's his favorite vehicle) and we took that money, and the money I got from a fender bender, and we put it toward a Yukon that B's boss was selling, so that's MY new vehicle. I like it a lot... it's a 96, and runs very well, and as I will explain a little later, it's a better vehicle for me now.
Aunt Merce Moving here: Ok, now that was also a bit of a process. First, she's visited and "lived" here (for a few months at a time) several times over the last 5 years or so, even working with me here at the bonding company, part time, on one of those occasions... but she had to quit and tend to her mom (my Abuela) until her death. My aunt has planned to move here all along, but never followed through for one reason or another. Now, however, she is HERE.
She came and moved into the office, working for the bonding company again part time, while looking for a place to buy and move into here... I think it was some time in June... around the 15th. We looked daily.... driving all over the northern part of Georgia, checking listings on the computer several times a day and in every site we could find, and even stopping to check for sale by owner houses. Finally, after seeing so many different neighborhoods she was convinced that the first one she'd fallen in love with was her favorite. However, that area is full of very expensive houses and there was NO WAY she could afford to buy there. Until... we came across a CONDO for sale in the middle of it all. She hadn't considered Condo's before, but this one was just at the top of the "affordability" scale for her, in her favorite area, and even better, completely (and I mean completely... new tile floors down and carpet up, new paint, new cabinets and countertops, NEW) re-modeled.
After a bit of negotiation, and almost giving up completely a couple of times, she now owns her own Condo, and is very happy. She moved into it around the first of October, and within a week my cousin Pio flew in from Puerto Rico to live with her while he looked for a job and a house for his mom (my Aunt), and his sister, (my cousin).
My Cousin Pio moving here: Well, after being here less than a week, Pio hated it. He said he was used to movement, lots of people and action, and it's just too quiet here. Now, we'd all been told by him that what he wanted was a "quiet country life with a small house on a little bit of land" for him and his girlfriend and son to live in... he was tired of all the hustle and bustle of the city, and all the legal problems he'd been having for years. However, I guess he just wasn't ready. So, he flew to Las Vegas and stayed with my dad while he found a temporary job to work at while he waited for another job he'd been "offered" by a friend of his to come through. It never did, and Pio grew disgusted with Vegas again, and flew out here once more to check it out.
Since then, my other aunt, Pio's mother, has flown out here and found the house of her dreams, with enough rooms in it for her son and his family, and her daughter to live with her. It has enough land around it so as to be semi-private and allow Pio to build a shop if he wants and her to have porches and decks expanded all over the place, yet is smack dab in the middle of lots of growth, and shopping and sub-divisions, which is exactly what they all wanted. So, now they're all here. Permanently... they say for the rest of their lives... we'll see. I think there's nomad in my family... we've all moved from one side of the country to the other... several times.
New Stuff with B and his job: Wow, this is a really BIG one. Job-wise, he's basically moved to the top... or, as high as he can go within the company he's working with. He's just under the owners, a father and son team that have been running this business for 26 years, and who have expressed that in all that time they've never had anyone they could trust to run it as well as they do themselves... until now, with B. They've raised him from $8/hr which he started at 2 years ago, to the over $12/hr he's making now. He also works between 50 and 60 hours a week, which gives him a nice amount of overtime, and he manages more often now, rather than getting his hands dirty doing the work. He's trained several people, and trained them WELL, so that they are more reliable for the company, and he's liked by all the workers because he's made it important to get those who deserve it raises and perks. The customers all love him because schedules are being kept and the work is being done correctly.
On a personal front, his dad is still alive, though now completely bed-ridden. He has good and bad days, continues to refuse to see a doctor because he believes that God has done more for him than any doctor could have, keeping him alive four years longer, so far, than the doctors said he had left with his colon cancer. He keeps B hopping with daily calls requesting one thing or another for dinner, or please bring me a pack of cigs or whatever else he can think of... mostly food because that's his only enjoyment left in life. B is happy to do it, though it's frustrating and interrupts something every day. He knows there's going to be a time, not too distant in the future, when he won't have his dad around any more. Plus, there were so many years... mostly all his life, when B was such an out of control alcoholic and druggie that he had no contact with his family... well, no pleasant contact anyway. I think he's making up for lost time/relationships.
Updates on Mom: Well, mom is still living in Seattle with my brother Chris and his wife and two kids. She's watching the kids while their parents are working, three days a week... ostensibly in exchange for room and board... though she uses her money to buy groceries all the time, and she does a LOT more than just watch the kids. It's her own choice... I don't think they've actually asked her to do these things, but she does laundry and dishes and picks up and vacuums... all but the bathrooms I think, and that's only because her knees and wrists can't take it with her osteoporosis.
She's been out there about a year and a half now, and my brother is finally getting done with the basement studio he promised her before she ever moved. She bought this special toilet that chews up all the matter because it's flushing and going up rather than down, with her own money... which bugs me because she makes around $600 per month to live on and my brother and his wife make VERY good money, and more than that, by her watching their kids they are saving about $10k a year in child care.
I think it was a bit difficult at first, especially for mom, adjusting to living in another woman's home, and wanting to be careful not to embarass or make my brother uncomfortable in any way, but they all seem to have adjusted. I know once mom has her own space... if it will EVER get done so she can move down there, that she will feel more like herself and be able to be more independant again. She's committed to spending another couple of years there... until Torin is in school, and the kids adore her, constantly asking when Gran'ma is coming back whenever she goes anywhere to visit her other kids.
I really miss her though, and now... well, there are things in my life now that make me want her around even more than before... I'll explain later. I thought that having my Aunt here would kindof make up for the hole left when mom left... I didn't have anyone to do things with anymore... B is limited in his interests and doesn't make the effort to do things I like to do... like mom used to. I thought I'd have my Aunt to do things with after she moved here, but it's a very strained situation with her because of the violence she witnessed with B and me a year and a half ago when she was visiting and had to "rescue" me from him. She hasn't forgotten or forgiven, and no matter what changes B has made, and continues to make, she can't seem to let it go. Anyway, that's another story.
The last promised update was on my friend from Columbus, GA. Her business is progressing along extremely well, and I believe they're going into production of the test models in the spring. She's continued losing weight and is looking and feeling extremely fabulous, and makes me ashamed of how little I do to be healthy, compared to her. She's moved out of the disfunctional home of her parents and has her own apartment now, which she loves... and I've yet to see, but I will... hopefully sometime in the spring... I can't do much travelling right now, but she comes and visits me occasionally, whenever she has business in Atlanta, and we go to dinner and catch up. She's about to be a grandmother again as her daughter is pregnant and due any time. She'll be spending the holidays in Colorado with her kids and other members of her family this year, and I think it's wonderful! She's in college, taking classes to get her psychology degree, and is loving that too. I can't begin to express how proud I am of her and how much her friendship and example, and her faith in God, has meant to me.
Ok, now, there is a LOT of new stuff too... things that are AMAZING and unbelievable (until you've lived them as I have), and just plain WONDERFUL that I have to share with you all.... but I have to wait on that because this blog is already too long. I probably won't get to do it until next week... or rather, over the weekend when I'm spending lots of time at work again, but I WILL get back here and update more.
I want to get around to a few spaces and see how everyone is doing. Take care, and know that even if I'm not actually writing, I am thinking of you all, and wondering how you are. I'll write again soon. God bless.
6/11/2007 Too Much To Blog AboutHello all! I have certainly missed visiting everyone, and now I've been gone so long that I hardly know where to begin.
I hope everyone is having a wonderful summer... ours is way too hot here already. The worst part about that is the grass we've been trying to grow. With watering bans on and the weather so hot and no rain... it all adds up to baby grass that can't survive, and older grass that is brown and withering. Our brambles don't seem to have suffered at all though! They're just thriving and growing wherever they can... B keeps poisoning them, but I think he's just killing the tops because it seems for each one he kills two more spring up brand new. UGGGGH! I'm afraid it's rather a losing battle, and poor B is just wasting his time, but I have to admire his determination.
Yes, we are IN the house now. After zillions of delays, we ended up being able to get into the house about a week after mom got here. She opted to stay in the house before there was electric on, rather than stay over at my girlfriends house. I don't blame her much... she wanted to be relaxed and comfortable and staying at my girlfriends house would have entailed listening to her "problems"... of which she always has many, and entertaining her daughter, who is always full of questions and needs to be the center of attention... if she's not, she gets "sick"... mostly the fault of the mama though because she completely gives in to that... even encourages it. Though mom likes them both, and knows them almost as long as I do, she needed this trip to be relaxing.
My moms visit was wonderful. It was so nice having her around again... having someone who's positive all the time, who compliments me and builds me up all the time. I got so used to that for so long that I suppose I was spoiled. We did everything together - she spent time with me at work, and we talked a lot... I really miss that.
You know, I've realized lately that most of my life has been really priviledged. Yeah, I've had the childhood abuse and the alcoholic parents and the completely co-dependent life... I've made terrible choices in relationships, and I've left myself open time and time again to be used and taken advantage of. The thing is though, I was happy most of the time. I found joy in all the good stuff and poo poohed the bad... I didn't let the bad stuff rule my life. I stayed away from the negative news and papers, knowing the ugliness existed, but not feeling like I needed to steep myself in it... what was the point?
I've always been the type of person to do anything I could to help people... my family first, and then anyone who needed it... whoever I saw that looked sad, I'd smile and talk to them... if they pushed me away then I left them alone, but most of the time people respond to kindness and interest in them, and just having someone to listen, to give them a positive outlook on life makes a huge difference. I've always believed that if more people took interest... not to be nosy or push their views on another... but a genuine interest in that other person who crosses their path... if more people put forth just the tiniest effort to listen to another human being, this world would be 100 times better than it is now.
Well, enough philosophizing. I was saying I believe I've been rather priviledged in my life. I think it's because I refused to delve into the negative of this world and concentrated only on the good and the happy... my heart was always full and my head was not filled with sad things. I was always called a "dreamer"... well, yeah, I suppose I have been. Believing in the good rather than the evil of people... believing in the positive outcome of any situation if you put positive energy into it, rather than dwelling on what "could go wrong"... believing in love, real, forever lasting, both parties giving to the other, both parties caring enough about the other to put them first... as the Bible says, to treat one's spouse as you would treat yourself... even better.
My family didn't do anything to burst my happy bubble... neither of my first two husbands did either (I now realize after looking back)... they protected me from the ugly of the world... they humored me in my beliefs. The reason I know this now, is that my current husband doesn't do that. B is a realist.. .he has almost no immagination whatsoever, and because his life has always been hard, he has a hard outlook on life. He fills his head with shows like "Cops" and "Dog the Bounty Hunter" and all kinds of news and other "reality" tv shows... it's almost all he watches besides sports... sports of any kind. I've always watched shows that were family oriented... sit-coms and romantic comedies, sci-fi or fantasy... happy things. I've never liked war movies or scary movies... things that end sadly.
I'm realizing all this, and I'm working on removing the negativity again. If B wants to fill his head with it all, then more power to him... I don't think he can ever be as happy as I will though. I'm not watching that stuff with him anymore... even if it means I spend less time with him... I'll go into another room and watch something positive, or get on the computer, or do some crafts or something. I LOVED my mentality before... I was happy in my separation from the ugly... and I am happiest when I can believe that the little bit I can do to help whoever I may come into contact with actually makes a difference somehow. I know it does, because sometimes, years later, someone will stop me and tell me what a difference I've made for them... how my helping them made a real impact. I think that's a wonderful thing, and I want to continue to be that way... no matter what the odds are... if I try with 100 people and only one smiles back... it doesn't matter... perhaps someone will remember me saying hello to them and smiling in the grocery store line, and they'll smile later in the day rather than frown. That's enough.
Heavens! How did I get on this track? Back to updating.
Mom helped B and I move all our stuff into the house... thank goodness I'd packed really well... hardly anything was broken. I lost my huge Thanksgiving platter with the grapes and vines designes, and the giant bowl that matched it, but other than that I think everything made it... oh, one of my Christmas wine glasses broke too... but I still have 11 good ones, so I think I'm ok.
Most of the stuff is put away into closets and cabinets now... I'll have to take pictures of it and show everyone... it really is a nice house, despite the things the "builder" didn't do properly. We notice things all the time, and we basically have to shrug it off... otherwise we would walk around unhappy all the time, and B is so happy it's hard to do that.
B does things around the property nearly every day. He works, and he comes home and works in the yard, or does laundry, or sometimes sits and watches his programs. I just got him a big lounge chair for fathers day, and he's in love with it... even had me put a cover over it so it "wouldn't get dirty from the animals"... he didn't think of that before, with regard to my couches... hmmmm. I'm kidding, I think it's cool that he's so into the house and the improvement of it .... whatever he can do himself.
Our porches ARE unlevel, but not as much as they look... actually it's the house that's not level either, so the two combine to make a really sad looking result that looks WAY off level to the naked eye... part of it IS optical illusion (as David suggested)... however, B has put lattice around the bottom of the porches and pretty stones all along the bottom at the ground, which makes them look nicer. He's tended the lawn as best as he can... has hired a couple of guys to come around when they have time and help him clear out the brambles and underbrush beneath the trees along the front and edges of the property (well the cleared part anyway).
Things are coming along very nicely... I'm still convinced that because this house was put on "created" land... they took down part of the hill on one side and built up the ground from the steep slant to a level place for the house and back yard, but they didn't leave it AT ALL to weather and settle... so I'm sure that at some time, if not this year then next, we'll end up VERY unlevel, or with a sink hole somewhere... somehow this land is going to settle and I'm a bit worried about it when it does... B says we'll worry about that when it happens... uh... ok (when we feel a big WHOOSH and then are tossed from our beds one dark night and all of a sudden we feel a huge THUD along with the sound of crunching house, he'll HAVE to address it then - he'll have to figure out a way to get the house back up the hill... if there's any flat place left to put it on).
I'm going to go now and put more stuff away... I actually have 8 hours off today (Imagine that!), so I'm trying to make the best of it. I'll do my best to get back and update some more. There's still (1) puppy news, (2) car news, (3) My Aunt Merce moving here news, (4) my cousin Pio moving here... and THAT's a story!, (5) new stuff with B and his job, (6) updates on mom, (7) updates on my friend from Columbus, GA... and of course all kinds of silly stuff that I somehow seem to find important enough to write about.
Thank you all for continuing to check on me and for showing interest in what's going on in my life... I promise I'll try to get round to visit you all very soon. I've attached some pictures of the inside and outside of the house before it was ready for us to move in... early stages after delivery. I'll try to take some more now that I have furniture in there and the foundation is solid and pictures are on the walls.
5/3/2007 Super Quick UpdateI have absolutely no time right now to write as I'd like to... it's already 2 am and I have to be up early... but here's a mini- update:
On the house: The block work is done, and finally stuccoed, and they actually did a pretty good job... left the place a shambles though. I asked them to leave me the left over sand, which they did, but they spread it all over the place... now how am I supposed to use THAT? Also, they left their huge bag of empty cement bags... thanks guys!
The decking people... ummm... very nice people, but not too good at what they do. The put the kick plates on the steps as an afterthought, so they come out past the steps... not really attractive. The porch in front is not level... I mean, It's visibly, to the naked and untrained eye, NOT level. The cement used to anchor the 4x4's to the ground (because the porches are not allowed to be attached to the house to prevent them moving... some weird code here) was piled around the 4x4's... so we have cement cow patties with the 4x4's plunked into the middle of them. NOT attractive, and now it's almost impossible to put some kind of facing on the porch to hide the underneath... at least, not that would look good.
The eaves... well, we're being told they need to order new pieces that will "match up properly" in order to fix that... ummm, they've known about this for well over a month now... I don't think the pieces are coming from China... well, even if they were, they'd be here by now if they'd done their job correctly.
As the company putting this all together is completely innept, they did nothing to get the electrical put on... other than put the meter box and the wire head on the side of the house. This means that it's going to be ANOTHER two to two and a half weeks before the electric is on. The special electrical engineer for the county had to go assess the situation and has decided we need to have a pole put in... the ones all along the road are not close enough he says. So, we're scheduled... I've been trying to get this taken care of for over a month but no one would listen to me... the house company did not want to do their jobs, so now we're stuck... AGAIN.
Mom is here, and she's sleeping over at the house, as planned... only without electric. I'd bought a roll away bed for her to sleep on while she's here already, and I had it over there already too... she didn't want to stay over at my girlfriends' house... she knows her too, actually used to sit for her daughter, but my friend is one to talk you ear off and mostly about her problems, and mom wants a rest... not a gab session or sob session.
OK... I'm fading here... got to go. I'll try to get back here soon. Luv ya'll! (Now if that isn't redneck I don't know what is!) 4/23/2007 Marshall Tucker BandOn Friday night the Marshall Tucker Band played a concert here at the local center and it was to benefit the Homes for Humanity. I thought that was really great of them. B has always liked them, and so have I (though I didn't know it until B told me what songs they sing... didn't know the name, although I should have), and he bought tickets for us and another couple a few weeks ago. I'd been looking forward to it... just to get out together, and having the other couple with us, well, that was a perk.
It's been a long time since B and I went anywhere with other people... since he stopped drinking actually. Except for our trip out to Texas to visit his daughter and grandchildren... we went out with her and her husband one evening, and it was wonderful! B not drinking makes my social experience a lot better... though I still am tied up in wanting him to have a good time... a DIFFERENT kind of good time now that he's not drinking anymore... he really doesn't know how... I don't think he's ever socialized without it before.
We all went to Chilli's for dinner first and had very nice conversation. The food was good, as usual... it's one of B's favorite places to eat out, but it's usually a little more expensive than we can afford... except once in a while. Being as we go out a lot to eat, especially since we've been living in the office waiting on the house, we have to go to inexpensive places most of the time. They have these southwestern egg rolls (not really egg rolls at all as they're wrapped in flour tortillas, but they're tucked at both ends like an egg roll, and cut on a bias to serve them)... he just loves them... and of course that's what he had.
Afterward we all went to the concert. There was a warm up band that had "Mid-Life Crisis" lettered on their bass drum, so I assume that was their name, and they sang a song by the name of "Quarter-Life Crisis" which was actually very good. All their songs were good. The singer had a good voice and could actually carry a tune without synthesizers or any electronic manipulation of his voice at all... and the instrumentalists were right on. We were impressed.
Then Marshall Tucker came on. They were VERY LOUD... I think if the music had been turned down just a tad the voices would have been better, but they put on a good show. Not all the performers were from the original band (duh, as if they would be after so many years), and the lead guitarist was also an amazing vocalist... B said he sounded a lot like Marshall Tucker (I'm assuming that's the actual name of the main guy) used to sound. MT said himself that there were "some songs he just couldn't sing like he used to" and deferred to the guitarist to sing a couple of the songs where they just had to belt out the words.
The flutist / piano player / saxophone player WAS from the original band, and he was FANTASTIC. His flute just sang... he even trilled it... made me think of the flutist from The Moody Blues... I've been a couple of times to see them with my mom... we love them. I sat forward in my seat when he played... his notes were so clear and his music was so moving... made the whole concert worthwhile as far as I'm concerned.
B was quiet and still most of the concert... except for the songs that must have some inner meaning for him. He smiled a lot at their performance, and he tapped his booted foot, but there were a couple of songs that really lit him up. Not that he got up to dance or anything, but his body language was happy... his face was involved... emotion was actually visible to me. I swear I saw a tear or two when that song Can't You See? (What that woman's been doin' to me?) came on... I asked him about it later but he denied it... maybe it's something out of his past. I'm just glad he let himself get into it and feel it. Of course, the whole crowd really got into that song.
There is a site, www.marshalltucker.com that has all their concert dates for their 2007 tour, a place to buy cd's and promotional stuff, and a lot of information about the band, if anyone's interested... I found it very informative and sweet.
We got a t-shirt for B (I believe there should always be something to remember an event by) and I kept the ticket stubs and broshure (for my scrap-booking)... once I have my craft room set up in the house I'm going to actually put everything I've been saving for years for scrap-booking INTO one... or rather... I'll probably need about 10 by now.
I've joined a gym here... finally. I really need to work out... more for my energy level than anything... well, maybe more for my need to be out and among the human race rather than spending my life just working and waiting for B to get home from work and spend time with me. I need a life.
The gym I joined is really great. There's a work out room just for women, and they have a LOT of really great machines in there... new ones that work different parts of the body. I like that because I don't have to be out and among the other patrons... most of whom are not quite so... jiggly... as I am right now. I'll be able to get started this way and not feel self conscious. They also have a pool, which I'll have lots of fun swimming in, and a jacuzzi, steam room and sauna which I will have lots of fun relaxing in. I told B that I need this... I want to develop some kind of routine. If I can do that I think I can stick to it and make some progress.
I have my first "training session" with the buff body builder trainer guy on Wednesday at 11 am. I think I'll do the water arobics class first at 9 am and relax a bit... then see him and get pained at 11... he seems like a really nice guy who's eager to help me... of course, he's in totally great shape which will make me self-conscious, but I have to get over that if I'm going to get anywhere with this.
Once we're in the house... oh I hope that's VERY soon... tentative is final inspection for Friday of next week, but I'm not holding my breath... then I'll get back into the really healthy eating... having a full sized refrigerator helps when you have to have a place to put fresh veggies and salad stuff. I have to say I'm looking forward to it all. I'm tired of being tired. I'm fed up with always feeling run down and achy. Yuck! It's time to do something about it. (hear that? I'm really trying to build this up... convincing myself I can do it... I've never followed through before, but perhaps now... I'm alone so much of the time now... perhaps I'll do it... if for no other reason than to be around people).
Well, gotta go... time to feed the dogs... and cook for B too. Let you know how it all goes. 4/17/2007 Lots O' StuffSpring was here... but it went away. I don't know about this weather...one day it's in the upper 70's, and the next we're having 50 degree weather. Dressing appropriately is a definite problem, which normally wouldn't bother me much but I'm still a little bit congested from that awful nasty cold/flu/whatever it was that I had for almost two whole weeks, so I'm trying to make sure it doesn't come back. Yesterday was lovely... a little windy, and then in the evening it decided to get cold and rainy. This morning it's freezing outside and the wind is very strong... my dogs are spoiled and don't like to go out in this kind of weather so I have to be especially vigilant with them to make sure (especially with Elvis our puppy) they go out when they need to rather than just finding a spot indoors for their "business".
Our house is just... waiting. We've not had anyone there all week (Today is Sunday). The company that built the house was supposed to go and finish up all the "punch out" inside... replace carpet, fix trim and door jams, etc. No one showed up. We've called the company that sold us the place... Palm Harbor (I don't advise anyone dealing with them... since my B bought the house through them we've heard many horror stories of their... antics... from several of their own sub-contractors), and they claim to be "on top of it" and that they're scheduling our home to be finished, but it's not being done.
We are at the exact same place as we were two weeks ago... nothing new has been done...well, they cleaned the stains on the ceiling with bleach and replaced a couple of light fixtures. That's it. Definitely frustrating and NOT what they keep promising.
It's even more frustrating now because. YAY!!! Mom is coming to visit! I'm so glad! I'm really looking forward to seeing her! I've planned all kinds of stuff for us to do together while she's here. We're going to the second of the three exhibits of the Louve (works brought over from Europe on an exchange thing) being held at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta, and I'm going to see if we can go to the Aquarium down there too... but on different days because it takes an entire day at the Museum, and another one at the Aquarium, to see them properly.
I spoke to her about us going on a day trip somewhere and staying overnight... just she and I (B says he doesn't mind, and he doesn't like to do the things mom and I like anyway). We're thinking about going to Gatlinburg... she'll love the mountains up there and it's where B and I got married... I'd like her to see it as she's never been there before. There's plenty to do there also... another aquarium, a Ripley's believe it or not, putt putt golf, a train up the mountain (or is it a tram?)... lots of roads to explore and lots of really yummy food too. She said she'd love to go and is looking forward to it.
On our way back, probably on Saturday night, I'll drop her off at her friend's house in Blairsville and she'll stay with her until Monday morning. Then her friend will bring her down and we will meet in Helen and spend the day up there going to pottery houses and antique shops and galleries. Mom and I love that kind of thing.
Other things we could do, although I don't know if we'll have time or not, is go to the Botanical Gardens, or Six Flags (more for me than mom... she's not sure she can handle that anymore... I wouldn't know why not, but she says she's older now and not sure her body can take that), there may be a play going on at the theatre at Brenau or at the Gainesville College... I'm going to call about that... or see if there's a concert or something either at the Georgia Mountain Center or the Gwinnett Civic Center. I'm so excited!
B and I went over to the land again today (Tuesday) to spread more grass seed and hay... we did it a couple of weeks ago, but we didn't spread enough and so we only have sporadic grass growing... I think the birds and local chickens which wander the neighborhood got a good bit of it. We did have some gale force winds for a couple of days which blew a lot of it away... though I can't see where it landed because there isn't any piled up anywhere... mystery. We have to go buy MORE seed and hay though because we weren't able to finish it... just a couple of the areas... we still have about 2/3 left to go. It's cheaper than sod, but it's certainly not cheap... not with our limited finances.
As I was spreading the hay our puppy Elvis was running around the area in pure bliss. He was rabbit hopping over the piles of hay and skidding on the stuff I'd already spread... effectively uncovering areas of seed that I was covering. It was hysterical! It was also frustrating as I was being careful to lay out a nice carpet of hay to properly cover ALL the seeds we'd spread... obsessively I must add.... oooohhh... I see seeeeeddddsssss.... spread some hay... walk along and oooopppsss I seee more seeeddds.... spread some more hay... and here comes Elvis.... zoooommmm.... sliiidddeeeeeyyyyyy..... tumble tumble... big happy grin on his face, his tongue hanging out of his mouth and his eyes all lit up and wild.... I'd say "EELLLLVVVIIIIIISSSSSS!!!!!".... stop short Elvis... look at me wildly.... aaaaaaannnnnn he's off!!! He had a blast! (On the way home he was PASSED out in the back seat... cold)
B went to the water company and put the water into our name today. The water line has been hooked up a while, but we've been reluctant to turn it on... everything else has somehow gone wrong with this house... we were positive that a line or two in the house wouldn't be properly put together and we'd have a flood or something. Well... B turned the water on. I was seeding and haying at one end of the property when he did it. I didn't hear anything for a couple of minutes so I thought, good, it's ok.
Then B called me and I looked up and he was angrily waving me over to him. I went and he asked me "what's THAT Edie?"... he was kneeling down looking under the house... and then I heard it. It sounded like a water hose open full power under the house... and the water was being poured into the moisure barrier.... making quite a pool that was dragging the barrier down to the ground. OOOOPPPPPSSSS! I said I didn't know what was causing it and as I said it a voice came from inside the house (the contractor) "TURN IT OFFFFFFF!!!" B took off... he ran. I mean he booked it to the other end of the house and turned off the main.
The contractor got under the house and came out almost laughing. Aparently the people who "seamed" the parts of the house together... it got here in pieces... put a "T" where there should have been only an elbow... therefore there was an open... completely OPEN... piece of pipe where the water was just shooting out of it. Humph. Seeing as it was a manufacturer error (wrong piece) the contractor fixed it... thank goodness we didn't have to wait for the guy from the dealership (who is supposed to be acting as our general contractor) to do something about it. We could grow old and grey waiting for that guy to do ANYTHING.
They tested it again and it's good now... we don't even have a flood inside the house anywhere... that we've noticed so far. I'd really like them to check the seams of the pipes under the big tub and under the sinks and in the access for the plumbing for the showers... I'd feel much better about it all if they would.
If the dealership would just get the block perimeter put in and the porches we could get our occupancy permit and start moving in. How long can it take to put 168 feet of block wall in? It's only two to three feet tall... and the porches are not substantial... it's one set of stairs at the existing porch, a front porch which is only a pathetic 4' wide by about 18' long... yeah, I know... it's going to look weird... and the back "landing" which is only 4' by 4' with the stairs to the back yard. Seriously... I wish he'd let me hire my own contractors to do all that stuff... it would have been done by now.
I'm still hoping against hope that we'll be able to start moving in at the end of the month. Mom could help me unpack some stuff and decide where I'm going to put it... there are soooo many cabinets in the kitchen. I'm thinking I could store a lot of stuff in them... other than just kitchen stuff I mean.... but what else can I put in there? Maybe my Christmas stuff? I know where the pots and pans are going... where the dishes are going... there's a big pantry for the food... actually two of them. I don't know. I guess I'll figure it out once we're in there. Maybe I'll let B have a couple of cabinets. If he's nice to me. tee hee!
Have a lovely day all! I plan to have one tomorrow.... my day off... well, 8 hours of it anyway. I'm planning on going over to the land and planting some hosta we were given from a friend's yard. If I can, I'll convince B to buy me some pavers and some mulch so I can create an area that I want... and I'll plant my wildflower garden too. Hopefully. I'll let ya know.
4/8/2007 HAPPY EASTERWhat an interesting and productive day! Happy Easter to everyone! It's been quite a full day for me... I'm finally feeling a bit better. I'm still coughing a lot, but my chest is not in so much pain anymore. I actually had energy today, for the first time in over a week, and it's a good thing I did because B threw his back out last night.
Poor guy... he's used to being able to do anything. He's always been so strong and when he was drinking, no matter how much he abused his body, he didn't feel a thing. Now that he's sober he feels the pain in his knees (he's had several surgeries on them... he played football when he was younger, and blew out both his knees because he wouldn't listen when they told him to rest.. he worked on them anyway)... he feels the aches and pains in all his joints from abusing his body for so many years, and he feels it when he overdoes it at work. He doesn't complain though. I hear him grunting and groaning some times, but I don't mention it any more because when I ask how he is he always says "fine" or "I'm ok"... he doesn't like for me to know he's human, I guess.
This morning I got up early and got all dressed up because I'd made plans to take B's Grandma to her church for Easter Sunday. She hasn't been going since before Grandpa died... she'd spent every second with him that she could, and then after he was gone I think she went through a very depressed time. I'd invite her to go to lunch and she'd sound happy about it and want to go, but invariably, before the time came to go she would call me and cancel. She want's to stay near her son, B's Dad, who is dying of colon cancer.
He's been almost completely bed ridden for almost a year now, and he's always been the "favorite" son... so kind and decent. He'd always taken care of his family.. cooked for them and cleaned house... made sure everyone had what they needed. He's always been there, and now that he's ill, he's unable to do much of anything anymore, but he still takes care of everyone emotionally as much as he can, and he never complains of the pain he's in... though he's not on any drugs for the pain or anything. He refused any kind of treatment over three years ago... the doctors told him he only had 6 months to live, and he figured he'd rather be at home with his loved ones than undergoing all kinds of tests and treatment all the time.
Grandma was ready to go when I got there and I walked her to the car. She was dressed so nicely in a black dress with yellow flowers on it and a yellow jacket to go over it. Her hair was all pretty and had just recently been cut (that's something she worries about... her hair). Because of the bone deep sore on the arch of one of her feet she wore black velvet slipper type sock-shoes, which she was self conscious about, but which actually looked really nice and matched her dress.
I had on a floor length white linen dress with short sleeves. It's just a straight down dress with a scooped neck... nothing fancy, but I felt "springy" in it. I had to wear a sweater over it because it's been so cold here lately, but I have one that's kind of fancy with little purple embroidered flowers up both sides of the button front and around the collar, and it's short sleeved too, so just putting it on and not buttoning it up looked nice. I didn't wear a lot of makeup because Grandma's church is a "Holiness" church and they're very conservative and strict.
We arrived early and sat in the back row... everyone who came in saw Grandma immediately and stopped to say hello and how happy they were to see her. She was beaming! Her face was so pretty with her smile from ear to ear and her eyes just sparkling with joy. She'd told me that she had never stayed away from church for so long before in her life, and she was just so "proud" to be there today. I was happy for her. I took the opportunity to tell her that I'd take her any time she wanted to go, and that I thought it would be good for her to get back to going regularly. She really does enjoy the fellowship. There's a new preacher in her church and she'd not heard him before. I was glad when she told me she really liked him and his energy.
Grandma's church is one where everyone prays out loud at the same time... I have a difficult time with that because I can't even hear myself think at that time... and I'm not one to pray out loud in front of others, so I can't join in... not even in my head because of all the other people raising their hands and praying out loud. I can appreciate their faith, and the ways they have, but I have a difficult time joining in. Prayer to me... personal prayer... is a personal thing between God and me. They did have one where the preacher prayed and asked everyone to bow their heads, and that I could understand better. There was a little skit where a few of the younger people acted out a song about Jesus rising from the dead, and there were lots of songs praising and thanking Jesus for dying to save the rest of us. The preacher gave an energetic sermon and the parishoners chimed in with "Hallelujah!", "Glory Be!", "That's right brother!", "Amen!", and "Praise Jesus!" throughout it. All in all, it was enjoyable... mostly because Grandma enjoyed it so much (she was one of the ones chiming in).
We left just before the last prayer so we could avoid the rush... Grandma has a difficult time walking and I think she's self conscious about it... going down the steps at the front entry was interesting... Grandma sideways taking one step at a time and clutching the railing... me just one step in front of her to her side to make sure she didn't tumble down the stairs... at least I could catch her if she missed a step.
We went to buy fish dinners for her and her three sons, and stopped off to get some bisquits and chicken for B and I. After dropping Grandma off at her house I went back to the office (home for now) and B and I ate together... poor B was having such a difficult time with his back! We watched the Majors Golf tounament at the same time, and I am so glad that the guy who won it did so... he's so happy and proud... it was very touching to watch. We also watched the Braves and Mets play baseball, and for B's sake I'm glad the Braves won... but I couldn't help but cheer for the Mets... after all, I AM from New York... plus it was fun to tease B.
I went to Home Depot and bought a bell for the office... wireless... YAY! My boss left me the money to do that as many times it's almost impossible to hear people knocking at the front door from the back room where B and I stay. I also got other things the office needed... a new 9V battery for the smoke detector (dang thing's been beeeeeping periodically for three days now... B and I are almost driven mad by it)... some flourescent lights for the dropped ceiling lights (we've been living for the last week with barely enough light to see ourselves in the bathroom... poor B couldn't shave very well), and some flood light bulbs for the four lights outside the building that shine down on our signs. Those haven't been replaced since they went out... oh... about 3 months ago or so I guess. Of course, my bosses knew they were out, but no one did anything about it. I got tired of it being so dark outside all the time and finally bought the bulbs today, and when I got "home", I put them in myself.
It's been quite a while since I was up on top of a 12' ladder... whew! I did it though. Plus I put the bulbs in the bathroom ceiling, and the battery in the smoke detector, and installed the bell. I'm just so handy dandy, aren't I? I feel like I've had a very productive day... compared to this last 10 days or so when I could barely do anything because of my cold.
I also stopped off at Petsmart and got a training "clicker" for Elvis. It's working too... I started with getting him to come to me... no matter what he was doing, and then taught him to "stay"... he's working on that one, but getting much better at it than he was. I bought him some training snacks too, and he's in love with them. We spent a little bit of time on the training, and I think it's made him happy... he was such a content puppy tonight... all lovey dovey with B, snuggling up to him and giving him puppy breath kisses on his beard. B was happy too.
I was thrilled today to get so many phone calls from friends and family. My sister and one of my nephews called, and we talked a little bit... I always love that. I called my dad and wished him a Happy Easter and I could hear in his voice he was pleased about it.. he was on his way out the door to church so we didn't talk long, but it was enough. My Aunt Merce called me too, and we talked just a little while... I always miss her... hopefully we'll get to see eachother soon as she's living in Florida now... a lot closer to Georgia than Puerto Rico is, that's for sure! I spoke to my mom too... though that wasn't for Easter... just to catch up. We talked for a long time which was great as I haven't spoken to her in a while... not a long conversation anyway. My friend Kelly called and we chatted a while... I couldn't believe how much is going on in her life that I didn't know about... it's only been about four days since we last talked. My other friend Teresa called too, as did her little girl Skye, and that was also a nice conversation. Skye told me all about her Easter Egg hunt and what she got.
I hope everyone has had a wonderful Easter! At least the sun was out, even though the air was chilly the sun on my head was very warm. The sky was a beautiful blue and people seemed to be in good spirits everywhere I went. Definitely an enjoyable day! 4/5/2007 A Speech and a ConcertA friend of mine, S, who I met through my B's work... she used to work in the same company he works at now... is currently working at Mansfield Oil, and they celebrated their 50th anniversary Tuesday night. She told me about it a few weeks ago, and said she'd like to take me (we jokingly referred to it as me being her "date") as her husband doesn't like to go to things like that... well, he doesn't go many places with her at all actually. Being that it was projected to be a kind of "posh" event, and somewhat political as well, he really had no desire to go. I accepted her invitation, happily. We found out before the event that Colon Powel was going to be the guest speaker, and that Wayne Newton was going to be performing a concert afterward. There were meetings held at her company to prepare the employees as to the proper etiquette… and to discuss the evening and its events and the order of the events… unfortunately my friend S wasn’t there for the briefing. She found out the important stuff afterward though… no photographing either guest during their time on stage. First would be a speech by the president of their company, then the speech by Colon Powel. This would be followed by dinner (they told her the menu consisted of a salad, followed by filet mignon, and for desert, lime cheesecake. After dinner Wayne Newton would perform for about an hour and a half. She picked me up at about 5:30 and we hustled over to the Riverside Academy which is where the events were to take place. I’d been there before with B… his company used to do the floors there… and there are a LOT of floors there… all marble. The place resembles a castle… all brick on the outside and parapets along the roof line. The grounds are impeccably kept. Rock retaining walls are topped with flowering dogwoods and flower beds, and the lawns are vibrant green all year long. I have to say that she looked lovely in a nice pair of black slacks and a black dressy sleeveless top with an embroidered design on it. She had her makeup done well, soft natural shades, and her hair, which is cut short, was upswept and a little curled on top. I was gorgeous too... or so B said. I had my hair, which is long, all curly down my back and pulled up and a little back from my face in the front (I must have used a whole bottle of hair spray... it's been ages since I've done anything with my hair other than just put a clip in it to hold it off my face and just leave it down). I wore my new (well, relatively new) white frilly blouse which is a sheer overshirt with wide sleeves at the wrists and a flowy flounce around the neckline and down to a "V" at the cleavage and down the front. There's a sleeveless white shift that goes under it which makes it a little sexy but completely modest. I had my flowy black pants on and my sheer Cinderella's glass slipper looking heels on. I felt good getting dressed up to go out... it's been a while. We were shuttled from our parking space up three other levels of parking spaces… terraced levels of green lawns and winding roads between them… to the top level where we were let off at the door of the auditorium. It’s more like a theater with a large stage at one end and rising from floor level are three sections of seats spreading outward and up. There’s a balcony as well, with a terrific view of the stage, and this is where we were seated because we’d arrived late. We timed it perfectly though as just as we were seated they announced Colon Powel (and we stood to clap with everyone else). His speech was inspiring and educational. He has a wonderful sense of humor, and the issues he discussed were some that are very close to my heart. Mr. Powel spoke about his service in the army, and then his service to our government while under President Reagan. He spoke of his visits to other countries and his encounters with various dignitaries and foreign ministers and presidents… including Gorbechev prior to the taking down of the Berlin wall and subsequent “peace”. His roles were varied, though his mission was always the same… protect the United States. He was cute the way he infused humor into the evening. He had the audience eating out of his hand. He’s 70 years old now, and he’s retired from the army, from the government, and though he’s supposed to be retired now, he realized (he said) after a very short time, that he and his wife were not ready for him to be at home all the time, so he’s active in motivational and political public speaking. He’s very concerned about the situation over in Iran and Iraq. He said that although the administration doesn’t like him to call it this, what is happening over there now is a civil war… not between two factions, but between three (I couldn’t remember the names of them… sorry). He says although we really need to allow them to have their civil war and figure it out for themselves, we’d be leaving them at the mercy of another bad government, or the control of the drug lords. He says we don’t need to send any more troops there… we need to structure the “war effort” to properly educate and guide the people to a peaceful resolution and help them to form a productive government that will guide it’s people to prosperity. He spoke of his visits to other countries and his reviews of their educational systems and how much better many of them are compared to ours here in the United States. One example he gave was of China importing a whole university (he didn’t say which) to teach their students. There is no comparison with what other countries spend on education and what we spend on it. He said we need to be more attentive to the education our youth is getting… that we are way behind. He said he’s looked at the numbers and the studies and can compare the education of second graders in this country with the prison population and they directly correlate. I think that’s amazing… and very sad. That’s an issue that really bothers me… has for a very long time. It’s annoying that there are actors and actresses, and sports persons making millions of dollars a year and a teacher, even a university teacher, the people forming the minds of the future generations, are making pathetic salaries. How are we supposed to attract the best of the crop and encourage them to become teachers if they can’t get decent salaries? What about an incentive program? What if teachers made a bonus at the end of the year based on their percentage of students who passed, or better yet, on the percentage of students who’s grades were A’s? Or how about getting a bonus for the students who make the most drastic improvement from one year to the next? Teachers would be encouraged to reach out to students on a whole other level. Well, anyway, his speech was amazing and I was really glad we got to go. Dinner was good… very fancy and sparkly, and the food was flavorful and cooked to perfection. There were about 700 guests, and the banquet hall was filled to capacity. The conversation was interesting as the people who ended up sitting next to S and I (we’d started our own table because she knew very few people and I knew no one) were very nice couples who had actually grown up with the President of Mansfield Oil. Wayne Newton’s show was very good. His musicians are amazing, and he has a backup singer, a woman, who he introduced as the gospel singer voted top in the country (sorry, I don’t remember her name). She sang a song and her voice was very strong and clear, and as she was singing to a bunch of southern Baptists (the majority), she went over VERY well… people actually gave her a standing ovation. I have to say, and I’m sorry for those of you who love him (my B included), but Wayne’s performance, although very animated and energetic, was not so great. Maybe he had a cold or maybe he was just not in the mood or something, but his voice… goodness! I was very disappointed. B had told me that he had a wonderful voice… ummmm… not that night he didn’t. He didn’t know some of the words of the songs, he was off key quite often, and I think there must have been something wrong with his microphone because he faded in and out and half the time you could barely hear him through the band. I have to give him credit in the musical instrument playing though. He played the piano and was pretty good… then he played the guitar (a couple of different ones) and he was really good there, and then he played the violin… WOW… he was amazing at that one! He played the banjo too, but I thought one of his other musicians was way better at that. S and I left just before he did his encores so she could avoid the rush at the end. It was a very pleasant evening, and when I got home I spilled over with information… I had to share it with B. I had recorded it all on my voice activated recorder, but for some reason, it didn’t take… you can’t hear Colon Powel hardly at all, and certainly can’t understand what’s being said, and the concert sounds very far away… I don’t know… maybe I should have held the machine in the air or something. Well, that’s what I did the other day… and I had a blast. I’ll get round to visit everyone within the next couple of days… right now I’ve got to go make dinner. 4/2/2007 The DebacleI asked my B if anything was the matter while we were at dinner tonight. He took me to Ryans, and I had a wonderful time with their salad bar and the yummy chicken soup they had tonight. I love that place because I can eat a zillion veggies, cooked all different ways…and I don’t miss the starches or grease or anything. I had steamed corn on the cob, steamed broccoli with garlic, green beans (I think they were sautéed), and grilled zucchini. Anyway, B was quiet… he’s usually quiet, but he seemed unusually so tonight, and all I could think of was how we were sitting there together, eating out, and not saying a word. I’ve often watched older couples together… out to eat and all they do is eat… they barely look at each other and they don’t smile or even look like they’re enjoying themselves… I always feel so sad seeing that, so, when it’s happening to B and I… I just can’t stand it. He said everything was fine… he had a little bit of a headache, but then he said “aside from the debacle of this house I’ve tried to buy… everything’s fine.” Debacle? Debacle? I teased him about that one… I asked if he’d been reading the dictionary lately, and that got a smile out of him. He raised one eyebrow over his piercing and now sparkling blue eyes and said “Edie, I know a lot more vocabulary than you think I do.” That cracked me up and I had to keep teasing him… I said I’d never know it… how could I if he never used his vocabulary? He said he didn’t need to, then in an affected southern back-woods red-neck way said “most git whut I’m sayin’”. At least we were talking… I felt better. I’ve been thinking a lot about how very different we are. He was telling me a story about the parents of a friend of his, and how they’ve stayed married, but don’t do anything together. They live separate lives in the same house… sleep in separate rooms and have mostly separate friends. He said he thought the man was very unhappy… it just “seems that way” to him. I asked him if he thought we were doomed to the same kind of future together. That shook him up I think because he looked a little scared and he asked me why I would say something like that. That we were different because we love each other. I said those other people probably loved each other that way too at one time… what made him think we were any different? We have extremely different tastes, likes and dislikes… we do everything differently… think differently. The only thing we really have in common is that we love each other. He said that he was happy, and that it was enough for him… then he asked me if it were enough for me. I had a hard time answering that one. I had to be honest and say I really don’t know… that I can’t imagine being more lonely than I am now, and that I didn’t want to end up just being glorified room mates. He said he didn’t know I was lonely… I was shocked! I’ve told him countless times, and I said that… I said I’d told him many times before… that I have no one to do things with, and that I’m not the type of person who likes spending extended periods of time alone. B wanted to know if I was lonely because he “won’t go to an art museum” with me. It’s really so much more than that. I explained that having someone to go to things like that with is important to me. There are times he wants to go to specific concerts with me… one’s that he likes, or to places of interest to him… but anything I like… culture, classical music, ballet, any of the arts really, he shows no interest in… doesn’t even make an attempt to share that kind of stuff with me. I mentioned the aquarium and he jumped on that one… he said he’d love to go to the aquarium with me… that it might be a “one time only” thing, but he’d like to go…and he said it as if that makes everything all better. (He just walked by and said “you’re flogging your butt off, ain’t ya?”… he calls this “flogging”, rather than “blogging”, just to mess with me… it’s cute, really. I hope he takes a little bit of our conversation to heart, really I do. I want it to work between us, but there has to be more effort on his part to share in some of the things that interest me. I do make the effort to share his likes. I watch sports with him on television… I’ve gotten to know some of his favorite players by sight so that I can comment on their actions during games…so he can feel like I’m participating… I get excited with him when his teams are doing well, and I try to console him when they’re not. I’ve even peeked in on the action of a race on occasion, when he was working and couldn’t watch it, and I’ve called him with updates on how his “Dale Jr” is doing…I sure wish that guy would win one for a change! I don’t expect him to attend every little thing I want to attend…goodness… that would be too good to be true! I doubt anyone… male that is… exists that would like ALL the things I like, I’m realistic about that… but some things would be nice. Once in a while to have someone who would go to a book store with me and not rush me out… or who would like to go to a classical concert… and would actually enjoy the music… I can’t even play classical on my computer while I’m on it without hearing some derogatory comment from him. I’ve learned to like country music because it’s his favorite… I’d NEVER listened to it prior to knowing B… and he knows that. Actually I catch him chuckling to himself once in a while when I’m singing to a country song… I can see it in his eyes and in his self congratulatory smile… he thinks he’s converted me. Well, I really don’t want to complain so much… there are so many other things that he does that are very sweet, and I can see the effort he puts into spending time with me when I know he’d be happier somewhere by himself… he likes being alone… probably because of habit… most of his life he’s been a loner. Well, he says he likes being around me more than anyone else, ever, in his life, so that’s a good thing. I want to just enjoy the times we have together, and not worry so much that it’s not enough… but I’m always so… I’m always wishing. Wishing that he took more interest in things I find fascinating… things I feel take talent and hard work… even just the architecture of an old building, or the way a small town is laid out (seen as we’re passing through it)… even the beauty of a garden someone has taken the time to plant… flowers in a yard… a beautifully manicured yard… many times I point these things out and he looks at me like I just grew another head or something. He says he likes that I’m observant like that, and that I appreciate everything, but that I’m silly. I hope that with more encouragement from me he will find some enjoyment in a few of the things I do. I point out paintings sometimes and comment on the lines, or the color choices… or even the brush strokes that are visible or the hidden things in the background a person has to look for. He looks…sometimes I think I see interest, but it’s gone so quickly… I wonder if he thinks it’s not manly or something… if he thinks he shouldn’t be interested in things like that for some reason. I’ve asked him, but it’s like pulling teeth sometimes when I’m trying to draw him out. I suppose in matters of art and music I’ve been more exposed to it than a lot of other people. Growing up in New York we had access to so much. Even in Vegas there are places of interest… but Atlanta has it all too… so does Savannah… though if you don’t venture forth very often I guess a small town like this one doesn’t offer much in the way of culture. It’s beginning to, now that it’s grown so much… and is continuing to grow. More concerts and events are planned here now than when I first moved here 11 years ago… I’m definitely grateful for that. Somehow I’ve got to learn to do things more on my own. I don’t like it, but if I’m going to do the things I like… if I’m going to attend functions that don’t much interest B, whether he goes or not, and it looks like I am going to have to do that, then working on being able to enjoy it alone is a must. I suppose I’ll develop friendships with people with similar interests, which is what a lot of people do, I know. I just have always felt that a person’s mate… the person you plan to spend your life with, should be someone you can do anything with… someone who likes to do things with you just to BE with you, even if it’s not exactly their forte. Well, time will tell. Hopefully there will be some kind of compromise in our future, and we’ll find our common ground… that is, some other common ground besides liking to go out to eat together. 3/28/2007 Loopy, Woozy, SickyI am on medication right now. I'm loopy. My head is fuzzy and I'm a bit dazed... you know what that's like? I can just space out... I have no idea for how long... and I "come to" and find I'm looking at a crack between the ceiling tile and the trim (what's that trim called again?.... ummmm.... I don't know... I'll think of it later) so I thought, WHAT A GREAT TIME TO BLOG!
If some of this doesn't make much sense blame it on the Nyquil knock off I just had... 10% alcohol and it tastes like an alcoholic cherry... ugh! But it sure makes you feel all warmy inside! I'm taking it because of the awful cough I have... I get started coughing and it's like I've set off come kind of sadistic chain reaction... I can't quit, and it's from WAY down inside my lungs... we won't discuss the disgusting results of the hacking up.... ick! Of course, I'm taking the Nyquil like stuff to supress that awfulness... but I'm taking Mucinex too... to get it all out... am I being counterproductive? Hmmmm.
I also (and trust ME to have this happen... just having an awful chest cold is not enough) just got my...ummm... dot. So I'm also taking Midol for the cramps and bloating and general feeling of yuckiness... I'm just SURROUNDED by yuckiness! I know you are all sooooo happy to be sharing this with me... but I'm all woozy, so I'm using that as an excuse... I'll probably be contrite tomorrow... embarassed that I've shared my yickiness with blog-land, but ... well, there it is.
Let's see... ok... update about the house stuff. We're still waiting for them to put on the stairs to the side porch, finish the water line, hook up the still exposed septic tank (tee hee! I just re-read that phrase "hook up the still" and leaving it off there instead of adding the "exposed septic tank" part... tee hee! Hook up the still... yeah... I know I'm living in North Georgia and that's something that actually happens around here... but.... LOL... it just hit me!... Giggle giggle... Ok... I know... I'm being silly... good thing you can't see me... I'm just Laughing over here... all by myself!), finish grading, attach the electric (I almost typed "eclectic"... THAT wouldn't have worked), fix all the problems in the house that haven't been touched, put on the front and back "landings"... supposed to be porches, but really... they're too small to be called that (although, if you think about it... "landing" sounds like something really big... as in, where a plane would "land"... hmmmm.... wonder how that degraded to something smaller than a porch? Hmmm... just wondering), and put the block skirting under the perimeter of the house (nothing frilly of course... just cinder block with some kind of coating). Our "contractor" (and I use the term extremely lightly... laughing as I say (or write) it) said we're looking, realistically, at getting into the house in about two weeks.
I'll believe that when I see it. I'd like to believe it because my mom is coming to visit on April 30th. If we're not in the house before that... at least have the majority of our stuff in there so that there are places to sleep... what do I do? There's no room in the tiny room B and I are sharing with Precious and Elvis... I have no money to put toward a hotel... where do we go? I have to believe that we'll have at least gotten in to the house by then... I have to! That gives them, really, a whole month... a MONTH! Surely they can get it done by then!
More updates... Elvis is learning his potty training... a few accidents still, but he's doing ok I think. He's learned "NO" and he's learned "OUTSIDE" and "FOODIES"... and I think he's learned to stop when he hears "OUCH!" because he's playing too rough. He knows "LAY DOWN" also... he tries to play with me and B all the time when we're trying to fall asleep, and B shouts... "LAY DOWN!" and Elvis settles in between us, or between my feet, and finally goes to sleep. The other day B was fishing Elvis out from between my legs, where he'd settled to sleep... actually he was being quite the "butt baby"... nestled up against mine... and B said "Now Elvis I know you're cold, but I don't know how you can handle the heat down THERE!"... and I just cracked up laughing! Elvis just looked at B like "huh?" with this dopey look on his face and his ears all perked up.... tooooo cute!
Ok... Looooonnnnnnggggg pause there... you don't realize it, but I just caught myself staring at the blue watery design on this page... just staring off into the water.... thinking... nothing. I don't know for how long. I just came back into awareness and re-focused. Hel-lo!
I was out several times today with B... even though I'm still sick... I get tired of being locked up in this room all the time, so B, who's feeling much better than I am (he WORKED through his sickiness... poor guy! I don't know how he did it... this is a VERY yucky sickiness... very very VERY yucky!) took me out to lunch today... yay! I had a grilled chicken breast (really grilled well done, which is exactly how I love them) and mashy taters and gravy and squash caserole, and a salad. It was very delicious... I've just been having soup these last couple of days.
Just a sec... ahhh... ahhh...... ahhhhhhhhh CHoooooo!. Ok... I just did that about 8 times... oops... nine. I hate getting started sneezing.... I just can't seem to quit for ages. Wait... be right back... hab to blow by dose..... ok, I'm back.
Ever notice that if you can't speak correctly... you can't write correctly? No, I don't mean those people who have a bad vocabulary and therefore can't spell, or put together a sentence... I mean people who generally CAN do those things...
Well, anyway... for ME... I don't know about anyone else... when I can't think clearly I can't seem to find the right words to express myself, and then I can't seem to write a complete or understandable sentence... well... I hope if anyone reads this they can understand it... I've only had to type each part of it about three times.... type a bit... back up and erase it... type a bit more.... back up and erase it.... my fingers think they're on an "athalon" of some kind... "type-athon"? "type-athelon"? "run onathon"? I don't know. Something-athon like-athon that-athalon. Uh... yeah.
O-tay... just a sec... be right back again. That was a cough-up-a lung break. Shudder. I hate those. I have to struggle a while to breathe properly after that, and I feel like I'm going to pass out half the time... sometimes I get stars... but I just breathe evenly for a while... counting the innnnnn and ooouuuuutttt.... then I'm ok.
I'm not a good sick person. NOT at all. I try really hard not to whine and be all needy, but I think I've been spoiled most of my life. Having been around my fathers side of the family when sick and gotten babied by every one of them that wasn't sick at the time... my aunt would make me noodle soup... my abuela would make me light toast... everyone would make something... tea, or bring me a book, or tuck the covers around me... checking in on me periodically... my dad would come by and talk baby talk (all uncomfortable and not sure how to make me feel better... but he'd try)...making sure I was ok.
Mom would be the same way... constantly calling to check in on me... or when she was home... all the way up until this last year when she went to live with my brother because I lost the house... whenever she was living with or near me... she would come over and help me in the house so it wouldn't be awful and dirty when I finally felt better... she would bring me tea and make me soup and make sure I took my medicine. She would come in and I'd put my head in her lap and she'd stroke my hair and I'd feel all comforted and soothed. Mom would monitor me and make sure my sugars didn't get disastrous... she'd keep track of how sick I was, and if she thought it was uncontrolable, or something that was getting worse, she'd get me to the doctor and come in with me and make sure I did whatever the doctor told me to do afterward. I know I'm a grown adult, but I miss that. I miss that level of love and caring.
If I were visiting my sister and I was sick she would make sure I didn't over do anything... she'd set me up on the couch and put in a movie and bring me hot tea and soup... she'd have the kids be quiet so I could nap... the kids would check on me too... each one showing their love in their own way... one would draw me a picture... one would show me something "cool" they wanted to share... one would sit on the edge of my bed and talk to me and let me pet them... even the dog, Toby, would come over and look up at me with sad eyes as if to say..."so sorry you're not feeling well... anything I can do?" and I'd pet him on the head and talk to him a little bit.
Even my ex-husband knew to baby me when I was sick. He'd keep me in bed and for once in a very blue moon would make me soup, or would straighten up the house so I wouldn't have to worry about it... he'd call into work for me and stay home himself to care for me... making sure I took my medicine and laying beside me and holding me to keep me warm and secure so I could sleep well.
B doesn't know how to take care of me sick. He brought me canned soup... because I asked him to... and then I had to get up and heat it myself... I pouted the whole time, feeling dizzy and tired and wanting to tell him "hey! this is YOUR job... YOU are supposed to take care of me!"... but I didn't. He was gone all day yesterday working and didn't even bother to call me and check on me. I only talked to him a couple of times and that's when I called HIM to ask when he was coming back so that he could bring me soup as there wasn't any and I hadn't eaten anything all day.
Now, I know people are different. I know I can't expect the same kind of loving care and treatment from B as I get from my family, but ummm... REALLY! I think it's because B's instinct when he's sick is to be alone. He sends me away to do errands so that he can have "peace" and be alone... that's what he did this last time he was sick. But I still took care of him. I tried to get him to eat... brought him tempting stuff... kept him supplied with juices and soda's (he wanted them) and cold medication (I have to say he DID bring me cold meds... hence my current state of wooziness). I told him ahead of time where I was going and how long I'd be gone and asked if he wanted me to NOT call so he could rest, and when he said yes I was careful NOT to call... and to stay away as long as I could with my errands. Then when I got back I did everything I could to make him comfortable... removed the pets from the area so they couldn't bother him... whatever I could do, I did it.
Well... like I said... I'm probably just "sick spoiled"... but I like it that way! I think if you're feeling yucky then anyone within reach should want to help and make you feel better... that's how I feel when someone is not well... and if I can do something to make them feel better, it makes me feel good too... isn't that the way it's supposed to be?
Ok... I guess that's enough of my "sick" blog.... hope I haven't whined and moaned too much.... OUCH... dang DOG... quit that! B's puppy Elvis is biting my toes.... OK OK... I have to go feed him.... before I end up walking funny. I'll write again soon. :) Hope everyone out there is feeling well and doing fine! 3/21/2007 159 Miles To HomeLast night I had a thought... I was wandering in my mind, bored here at the office, and remembered that Monday, on my day off this week, I'd had nothing to do... no where to go really, so I just made stuff up. I took the dogs to two different parks and we walked and they barked at ducks by the lake, and we had a lovely time. The weather was beautiful, and it was interesting to watch the pooches checking everything out. Elvis is looking up to Precious now as a big sister, and it's too cute watching him follow her... she sniffs something on the ground and moves on... he's right behind her to sniff it too... and then run to catch up to her.
My thought was that perhaps I could go somewhere on my Wednesday day off... I only have 8 hours when I can be out of rush-to-the-office-from-where ever-I-am-to-do-a-bond range, so I thought perhaps I'd drive the two and a half hours to Columbus, GA where my friend lives and I'd spend some time with her and then just come back in time to be close enough to do a bond if one should present itself.
It was a happy thought. I imagined we could go to the art gallery there and spend some time among the paintings... we'd gone to the High Museum a couple of months ago and really enjoyed it. They have an agreement with the Louvre and are exhibiting some of the paintings from there... it's a three stage thing. I'd been to the gallery (museum?) in Columbus with my friend before, when they had a special exhibit of Bo Bartlett's work, and really enjoyed that too... it was years ago, but I've not forgotten it.
I probably should have set my clock (cell phone) to wake me up early, but I didn't... so I got up around 9 am. I took my shower and remembered my half-plan thought of yesterday. I called B to make sure he didn't have any plans for us for the day, and he had to work most of it... couldn't even take me to lunch... this was good I thought. I mentioned what I wanted to do, and he was all for it, thought it was a great idea.
I called my friend and she was thrilled too. She said she'd work harder (has her own company) to get her stuff done early so we could go to her family's restaurant for an early dinner (or late lunch), and then we could go to the new exhibit downtown... yay!
I started out, just fine really. I got an ok start, time wise, and though I knew I'd run into traffic in Atlanta, I also knew that I'd still be able to get to Columbus around 1:30 or 2:00 pm... which would allow me to spend about three or four hours and then I'd have to head home... that was acceptable.
Then something went terribly wrong. I don't know how I did it... I've been down there before... but I got off on the wrong 85 going in the wrong direction... it didn't look right, but me, dingbat, kept going for about 1/2 hour until it really sunk in that I was going the wrong way. I called my friend and she said get back to where I started... this was a hitch, but I'd still be able to spend about 3 hours with her after correcting my error... this was still acceptable.
I re-traced my way and got back to the correct 85... only going the wrong way... north, instead of south. Ok, I figured I'd get off on an exit and just go over the overpass and get going in the right direction. Uhhh... not. I got off ok, but then there was this twisty, one way only roads, turn me around and make me sight see because the highway was no where to be found kind of detour... I kept trying however... through tiny roads and past the civic center and back up roads I knew I'd passed over before... for about another 45 minutes before finally, after honking at a guy at a light, I got directions how to get back on the highway.
I called my friend. We determined that it was now too late for me to continue down there. I had already called the girl who works the two 8 hour days I get off per week... I've worked a couple of days for her lately so I could build up some time off too... and she couldn't answer the phones for me for a couple of extra hours. It was hopeless.
Of course, now I was on the highway I needed, so I had to find another overpass and swap direction again... this time it was much easier to do as the overpass actually DID go over to the other side and let me get back on the highway heading north... without having to tour any other parts of Atlanta.
So, my friend and I stayed on the phone for the hour it took me to get close to home again, and it was lovely... I always love talking to her. She's so energetic and fun... she's got a great sense of humor, and she's always very supportive and encouraging.
We've planned it again for next week, and I really hope this time I can pay attention and go in the right direction... I'm going to print out a map next time, like I've always done in the past but failed to do this time, and go for it.
So, I drove 159 miles... to go home... from home. Only me. 3/18/2007 Morning PetsIt is a cruelty of life that pets love mornings. Especially when both B and I are NOT morning people, if we can help it. It's a real injustice in life when a person (me) absolutely loves animals, (hence I have two cats, Simon and Earl (currently being cat-sat by a friend), and of course my Chihuahua, Precious (or, as she's curently nick named, Preshie Freshie Mama's Girl) and our newest addition (because there will ALWAYS be new additions) Elvis (named, of course, by B), but is NOT a morning person.
There is nothing I can do about that love... I can't help myself... yet each time I bring a new addition into the house both B and I suffer. We lose sleep (which for us is difficult...our schedules make us sleep deprived already) and we argue over the rules and the raising of that new addition. Some couples argue most over finances, or jealousies... not us... not any more. Those things have been mostly resolved, and other than us "playing" at being jealous (though I think sometimes B isn't playing), we trust each other sufficiently not to be sitting around wondering WHO the other is with, and WHAT they're doing, when we're not together.
B and I are sleeper inners... if it's at all possible... if we don't have some appointment in the morning that we HAVE to attend... we like to sleep in. This used to be possible. Well, with Precious, who is 9 years old, it's easy... she's learned to be a sleeper inner too... she actually gets grumpy if we have to wake her up early because our schedule demands it. Years with me has taught her that if I'm still sleeping, don't bother me. She'll get tons of attention AFTER I wake up, and I'll be in a much better mood too. She knows to go outside to do her business, and she knows when to ask for her meals. Life with Precious is smooth and fun and loving.
When we adopted Simon, our "second born and first son", we went through the whole training period, B and I, for the first time together. I learned that B has absolutely NO tolerance for "potty mistakes"... he has this aversion to any type of pee or poop, or even throw up... be it human or animal. He's disgusted that they don't seem to understand exactly WHERE it is appropriate to go without repeated training reminders. (By now it should be obvious to anyone who has any knowledge of pet ownership at all that B did NOT grow up having pets... he was essentially petless almost all of his life... well, until meeting me.) So, I was elected, by default, to be the ONLY one who cleans up such messes. No exceptions, and that rule seems to apply forever... nothing has changed, and Elvis is trainee number three, since B and I got together.
However, it's not just the potty training issue... it's also the morning schedule issue. Until our new additions are made to understand that mornings are NOT the time to bother mommy and daddy, we are sleep deprived. Simon used to wake up in the morning, almost always around 7:30 or 8 am, and he'd begin to chew on whatever body parts B and I dared to have outside the blankets... and kitten teeth are VERY sharp! He'd get up on top of my head and begin to knead my head with his claws open while "cleaning" my hair... nibble nibble nibble... puuuullllllll.... nibble nibble nibble.... puuuullllll... until I was sufficiently awake to grab his tiny body and hurl him to the bottom of the bed, or over to B's side. He mistook this for playing however, and he would then attack anything that moved under the covers, which, on several occasions turned out to be... ummmm... parts of B's anatomy that are WAY too sensitive to be clawed or bitten by a kitten. This would result in B jumping, horizontally, from the bed, at least a foot in the air, the quick grab of Simon and removal from those parts, and the hurling of Simon, usually toward me. We played kitten catch, partially in our sleep, most mornings for about the first month of Simon training.
I know that in most people's cases this would have resulted in making the animal sleep elsewhere. I can't do that. I can't stand to hear a baby cry... even if it's a kitten or puppy... I just lose it. We did try it... for about an hour. B could see by my face that I was suffering far more than the pitiful mewling baby kitten who was so lost and scared and all alone, that B actually went and brought our Simon back to bed with us... he was resigned to suffer through it for my sake. That's love.
With Earl, our second "son" and adoption, it was much the same thing, only, not so much biting... more lay on your face and purrr kind of torture... of course... first thing in the morning. He was easier to morning train because he is just a mush... all he ever cares about is that he's somehow ON me, and that I'm touching him... petting or just have a hand on him. It was easier for me to get used to hearing Earl purring in my ear than it was for me to get used to Simon biting my head. It was also easier for B because it wasn't HIS ear Earl was purring in.
Now, we have Elvis. Elvis's mama is full Pitt Bull, and his papa is full Bull Dog (either way he's full of Bull... tee hee). I was exiting Walmart one evening and there was Elvis, in a storage box with 6 of his brothers and sisters, hopping around trying to get out, and drawing the attention of everyone passing by, including me. I reached down and grabbed him up... the first one my eye was drawn to because first, he had the exact coloring of Preshie's daughter Cossette (she's dead now), and second, because he looked right at me... not whining... just standing against the side of the box looking at me. The owners told me about him, and that he actually had 9 brothers and sisters but they'd already given away 3 of them, and that Elvis (no name at the time) was the smartest. He was the only one who'd figured out that by standing on top of his brothers and sisters he could hook his paws over the edge of the box, pull himself up and out and escape. I picked up a couple of others, got puppy kisses and all kinds of warm receptions, but Elvis just kept looking at me from his box, and I couldn't ignore him.
I called B and told him to come to Walmart right away, and he arrived a few minutes later (after a little bit of persuasion). I convinced him to get out of the truck and "look", and then thrust Elvis at him to hold. He got puppy kissed and Elvis tried to climb up onto his bald head, and I think he was hooked. Still, he left and said I was crazy, and that I could "do whatever I wanted"... but with attitude. So, I left.
I felt guilty that I wanted another mouth to feed... another "body" to live with us in our temporary living quarters at my job... a large closet really with alot of our "stuff" squeezed in there with us. I couldn't let it go though. I called B, a bit emotional because I really really thought that Elvis would be an awesome dog... that B could make him HIS dog... he'd been saying he wanted to get a bigger dog for himself anyway. B told me to go back and get him... there's that Love again. I asked if he was sure... I didn't want it to be just because I love animals... I wanted B to really want THIS particular dog. He said get back there and get him before someone else did... if he was still there get him, if not, then he didn't want any of the others. I went. Quickly. I got Elvis (who was later named that by B).
I did the research on line... how to raise and train a Pitt, and how to raise and train a Bull Dog, and I printed it all out for B. I force-read some of the most important (to me) parts to B, and then left the almost one inch high stack of papers on B's table for him to refer to whenever he wanted (I knew that he'd read it on his own...when he could feel he was doing it himself, because HE wanted to, rather than because I wanted him to.) I can tell, since then, that he has done some reading.
We established that Elvis would be B's dog... that HE would decide what food Elvis got... that HE would decide how Elvis was to be trained and what tricks he'd learn, etc. It was also established that I would get the potty training detail. This means that I have to be very puppy aware and sensitive to any possible sign that Elvis has to go potty. I quickly realized that if Elvis took a nap...even if for only five minutes, he had to go immediately after he woke up. No time for me to put shoes on... no time for me to put him on the floor and get him to follow me out the door...nope. Grab up puppy the second he's awake and rush him out the door... I'd barely get to put him down before he was squatting.
Elvis was one day shy of 7 weeks when we got him. He just turned 9 weeks old (yesterday). He's almost potty trained. I'd say he's a pretty smart puppy. He climbs onto my head in the middle of the night if he needs to go out... it's good that he's getting someone's attention, but it's always ME... more sleep deprivation. Of course, he still has the occasional accident... if we leave him alone he has no "holding it" capacity yet. If I'm distracted at the time he awakes from his naps then he'll usually whine at me to go out, but if I don't move fast enough... well, clean up time. If I'm not around, B is not so aware, and so there are accidents... which infuriates B and results in Elvis having his nose pushed into it and him being ejected from the room to the back yard. It's getting better though, and I think B is learning from my example the best ways to get Elvis to learn... and Elvis is learning not to mess with B... this is a good thing.
My Preshie is suffering through it too. She's 9 years old. Elvis is 9 weeks old. Preshie has no patience for a bouncy, jumpy, teething, wants to play all the time puppy. She yipes at him frequently. Elvis doesn't care. He sits on her when she's in her bed... she'll be snarling and yiping at him... reaching around her shoulder to nip at him... he's sitting on her with a nonchalant look on his face... practically yawning at her. He'll finally get off of her and begin a darting in and out type of attack with her... nipping at her cheek and darting away... biting her bottom, then darting away... he'll high-squeek bark at her several times, and then start over again. She's exasperated at him, and often sends me these pleading looks that say "mom... could you PuhLEEES get this pest off of me?", and then I pull Elvis away and let her have some peace. B thinks it's all great fun and laughs and laughs at Elvis's bullying... I think he identifies with it (from his wilder days).
I'm sure we'll all adjust in time, and Elvis will learn to sleep when we do and be awake when we are, just has Preshie learned to do. I believe that the more control Elvis learns the more time he'll get to spend with B... probably ending up being one of those dogs that ride around with it's owner all the time and makes the back of the pick-up his second home. At least I hope so... B needs that kind of love and adoration from something smaller than him and huggably fuzzy... I think everyone does. There's nothing quite like the unconditional love of an animal. No matter what you do, how much time you spend or don't spend with them, whether you feed them on time or not, whether you remember to get treats or not, no matter WHAT... an animal who loves you just does... no questions asked. It's a nice feeling.
3/15/2007 Counting My BlessingsIn my travels through blog land I visited Gayle's site and was reminded, because of her positive attitude and the peace I found reading her blog, that perhaps I should concentrate more on the positive things in my life and just deal with the annoyances... rather than dwelling on them. Thank you for that Gayle.
The best and most awesome joy in my life is my relationship with B, and the changes he has made and continues to make in his life... which of course, affects my own.
He is still 100% sober, and as time goes on I see more and more of the man I knew he was... the man I saw in his bleary red, unhappy eyes when I first met him. Shining through all that alcohol and self loathing was a sensitive, intelligent, decent man, and though I saw it and took every opportunity to tell him I saw that, he wasn't ready to allow himself to be the best HIM that he could be. He wasn't ready to forgive himself for all his transgressions, and because he couldn't forgive himself, he couldn't ask God to forgive him either... he felt it would be hypocritical.
Every day I see him dealing with life. I see him struggling for understanding of this world that he now has to live in, that he now has to acknowledge and work with daily... a world he had previously avoided, and if forced to deal with it would drown with alcohol. He used to find every excuse to drink... to get out of his head... to avoid dealing with grown up life. Now he meets each challenge head on and uses his intellect to handle each and every situation that presents itself. I see the desire to "escape" flit across his face now and again, and then I see him purposely send that desire away... I see him find some other diversion to take it's place. I am so proud of him... so amazed by his transformation and his determination to finally succeed... to finally have a life he can be proud of.
He finds little ways of showing me his love almost every day. His understanding and patience with my faults is something I'm finding wonderful, and at the same time difficult to deal with... no one else has ever dealt with my faults and still loved me the same, or more, like he does. Well, no one other than my family... they've always been supportive of me despite my constant penchant for getting myself into messes.
Some little things my B has done, which are huge to me:
One day I sat down at my computer to find a stuffed floppy eared doggie holding a heart in it's arms with a "press here" note on it's paw sitting on my desk. As I grinned, not knowing quite what to expect, I reached out and pressed... the doggie started to sway back and forth while the heart he was holding lit up red and the song "Have I told you lately that I love you" began to play. He sits on my desk still, and whenever I'm feeling a little lonely I press his paw. It never fails to make me smile, and my heart always feels full after listening to him.
On Valentines day I got out of the shower and as I walked past my chair I saw a big decorative bag sitting on it with a huge... I mean HUGE red heart shaped (with an arrow through it) mylar balloon with the words "I LOVE YOU" across it, attached to the bag. A grin spread across my face and while still wrapped in my towel I carried the package to the back room (we're still living in the office right now while the house is being finished) and thanked my B profusely before I even looked inside the bag. He grinned and told me to look. Inside the bag was a white furry boy and girl stuffed bear combo holding a bag of heart shaped candies between them. There was a lovely card that made me cry because it was so intensely loving. There was the movie "Fiddler on the Roof" anniversary edition (he later explained he'd been searching for the movie "The Notebook" because it was the first romantic one we'd seen together, but he couldn't find it anywhere so thought he'd get me an old movie because he knows I love them.) Additionally there was a big stuffed, finely detailed, so adorable I've been hugging it ever since, ELEPHANT. I collect elephants and I adore them... I can't believe he found this one. I've never seen a stuffed elephant as beautiful as this one, or with as much detail... I'm still amazed and so grateful that he's being so thoughtful.
Two days before my birthday in January I climbed up into his truck because he was taking me to lunch. On the seat was a small box wrapped up in pretty paper and with a bow on top. I looked at him and asked "What's this?", and he said "Oh, I forgot that was there. It's your birthday present" and I smiled at him and said I could wait to open it. He said no, open it now because I want to feel good about myself. I grinned at him over that one! I took off the bow and paper, and I opened the box slowly... just getting a peek at what was inside. I closed it again quickly and looked up at him with shock and amazement... the tears came to me quickly...I peeked again... I couldn't believe it. Nestled inside was an amazingly beautiful ring... gold filigree antiqued setting with a large... very large to me as I don't often wear large stones... emerald cut London Blue Topaz. Each time I sneaked a peek into the box it grabbed the light and sparkled at me... to the very depths of the stone... clear and flawless... beautiful. I hugged him...kissed him... told him I was amazed and so grateful for this beautiful present. I'd had NO idea... not the tiniest clue that he was doing that. The ring fit perfectly... how did he DO that? He must have taken one of my other rings in order to know the correct size... which means that he was working on this more than just that day... there was fore thought and planning to pull this off. That he would spend time and energy working on this was what meant so much to me. That he remembered me telling him... oh goodness... months if not a year before... that I wanted a ring with a stone like that to match the london blue topaz pendant I've been wearing for years... it just blew me away. It still does. I wear that ring and every time I look at it I smile... and I make sure to let him know how much it means to me whenever I can.
At least two or three times a week my B makes the time, in his irregular and unpredictable work schedule, to spend extra time during the day with me. He takes me to lunch or to breakfast whenever he has the money and we sit across from eachother talking about all kinds of things. B is making a conscious effort to SHARE with me... he's not naturally the type to reveal his thoughts to anyone... he's happy being alone, but he makes the effort to spend time with me because he knows I'm NOT happy being alone, and that I need that closeness. If I'm feeling down he teases me into a better mood. If I'm not feeling well I tend to whine... which I know he doesn't like so I try to tone it down a bit, but he makes himself tolerate it... I see the conscious effort... and he asks me what's wrong and he tries to help me feel better. He actually worries about me... and B has never been the type to worry openly about anyone, yet he lets me know that he does worry and think about me... which in itself makes me feel better... makes me feel loved.
If B stops at the store to buy cigarettes or soda he usually will buy me something too... an apple pie because he knows I love them, or some knick knack he thinks I'll like... which I usually do, and he's like a kid when giving it to me... hoping he's done good... hoping to see me smile and be happy, and when I am, his face looks content... his eyes shine love at me, and he's happy too.
I could go on and on at the things B does for me... at the way he makes me feel loved and cherished and safe. I'm not saying we don't have our arguments or differences of opinion... of couse we do, and those are not comfortable or happy times for me because I'm still too co-dependent... my happiness is too closely related to his... but we get over it quickly, and we almost always talk it out so as not to retain resentments. I see that as positive.
Another blessing is... and I almost don't want it to be because I've wanted to leave for some time now... my job. My bosses are happier with me now... how could they not be... I'm living at the office and working, literally here in the office, 24 hours a day. They're making more money... always a good thing... and they know whatever needs taking care of will be done promptly because I'm HERE. My job allows me the freedom to come and go as I like most of the time, which means I can shoot over to the house site whenever I need to for inspections or whatever problems arise.
My bosses do show their appreciation for my attentions to the company and my extra time actually sitting in the office, which is a good thing. They're not charging us to stay here, so we are able to get rid of some old bills that we've previously avoided dealing with, and we're able to put a little money in the bank for a rainy day. They also paid me for three days that I was out... extra days off with pay that don't count toward my vacation time, which is greatly appreciated. B and I were able to take a trip to Texas to see his daughter and two grand daughters... it was only three days, but we hadn't seen them in almost 2 years (since his daughters wedding), so it was a wonderful trip, and something both he and his daughter really needed.
Well, I could go on counting my blessings, but I'll let that be sufficient for now. It's already after 1 am, and I'm really tired... normally I stay up later than this, but last night I worked to 3 am and then had to be in court this morning at 9 am, and then actually worked all day today, so... I'm beat. I'm working on getting around to everyone here in blog land... it's slow going because I like to catch up on each space, but I'll eventually do it all. I'll write more soon.
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