A little reminiscing...

June 12, 1995.  I was still on bedrest for a high risk pregnancy.  For some unexplained reason, Dale and I watched "Paint Your Wagon" with our friends, then ate watermelon.  They left.  I suddenly started bleeding.  I couldn't quite get it to stop.  Off to the hospital --again.  I had every intention of staying the night then coming home.  Apparently, something about Clint Eastwood singing was more than Daniel could stand.  He wanted out of the womb!


June 13, 1995.  At 9:08 a.m. I delivered a sweet, sweet little baby boy.  I don't really remember seeing him, though they tell me I did.  Colleen told me he was perfect, just small.  Dale followed him to the bigger hospital with a NICU.   He brought back some pretty sweet videos of my adorable little 3 pounder.



After a 6 1/2 week stay at that fine hotel, we got to bring him home -- my cute, perfect baby.  It took a lot of energy to eat, so he often took about 1 1/2 hours to eat.  That means he ate about every 1 1/2 hours, 24 hours a day.  Eat and poop.  That's what babies do best, right?



Today, my sweet, perfect baby turned 16.  He's way taller than I am now, but some other things haven't changed.  He still eats (nearly 24 hours a day) and poops.   In many ways he perfectly fits a couple of definitions I've heard of boys.  One is Boy: Noise stretched over an appetite.  The other is Boy: Noise with dirt on it.  He qualifies on both counts!

There may be some things that don't change, but then again, some things do.  He's in the middle of the growth charts now.  He's handsome with naturally straight teeth.  He's grown into a fine young man.  He excels at school.  He's kind to others.  He has never gotten in trouble with or without his friends!  He doesn't ask for much, except food.  He's tons of fun to be around.  He's still creative and imaginative.  He's great!  Happy birthday to my absolute favorite son!!!!!  I love you!!!

Late night laugh

I can never find time to blog about myself, but I just read this on a Facebook entry, and it made me laugh out loud.  I had no choice but to pass it on to make someone else laugh.  Then I'm going to bed!

A nice woman attempted to compliment my youngest on her pixie/bob haircut, but Li'l Sis didn't appreciate being likened to a "dorky camel.". This called for a brief on-the-spot history of America's top figure skating women.

So funny!

Now all I need is a highway...

I've officially adopted one of everything else (a little person, a cat, and now a dog)!!  If only I had a highway, my collection would be complete.

Much to her great happiness, Cheyenne's 11 years of asking for a dog were not in vain.  According to her, she "finally got a dog!"  And let me just say that getting one as the mom is a really different experience than getting one as a kid.

We didn't know exactly what we wanted, except that we wanted something not to big or too small, one that didn't shed much, preferably one already housetrained, and most of all, one that would be Cheyenne's friend!!  We did okay on most counts.  The housetraining part leaves something to be desired, but considering my track record, I am destined to deal with pee more than the average person.

Meet Molly.  She is a cockapoo (half cocker spaniel, half poodle).  She is small enough to be a companion, but large enough to not be carried around like a stuffed animal.  She doesn't shed much.  She's playful but pretty mild.  She isn't yappy or whiny.  We like her.  She really needs a good grooming, but that will come.  For now, we're just embracing the scraggly look!

And just briefly, while we're on the subject of animals, let me just follow up on Dale's last blog entry.  The bird was a present delivered by our cat Jackson.  He brought in an injured bird he hoped to eat.  Of course he did it in the middle of a crazy busy day with tutoring students, kids, etc.  Daniel convinced me the bird wasn't very injured because we saved it in time.  The kids really wanted to save it - to nurse it back to health.  I wanted Dale to deal with it when he got home.  I conceded to let them put it in a box.  Before we could do that, it flew out of Daniel's hands and into my pantry.  I really did not have time for a bird to be perched in my pantry!  After some time and effort, Daniel managed to retrieve it with a butterfly net.  Then it just sat outside on our picnic table motionless for over an hour while the cat was locked inside being tormented.  When Dale arrived home, it flew away, never to return.

It wasn't a huge deal, I guess, but it was one more thing in an otherwise crazy day that is the kind of thing that doesn't happen to just anyone.  Lucky me!!