Wy Guy - the first 24

Moving has this funny way of opening up your memory banks, doesn't it? When we were packing and moving, I found a diary I was keeping when Sis was a baby, recording the early stages of her life. I have memories like this of each one of my kiddos since we've had so many "experiences" with each of them, some of them recorded on paper, many stored in my mind. And, while a momma NEVER forgets these "experiences", I'll admit that as the kids grow and time passes, the sting of those early worries and stumbling blocks lessens. I'm grateful for that, but really don't want to ever let go of those memories because they've made me the mom I am and made my children the people they are becoming. I love having this perspective in my life now as I see my friends going through the early stages because hopefully it can give them a little encouragement of where they'll be in 10 years or so.


At 21, I was a pretty young newlywed and soon-to-be first time mom, due to have my first baby on January 3rd. Around 36 weeks pregnant, I began to have some anxiety about the baby coming and feeling that something had changed. At my 37 week checkup, I mentioned this to my doc who reassured me it was just my first time mom jitters. I insisted it felt like my baby was now upside down, or else had no legs, because I could wrap my hands completely around it's "butt" just under my rib cage. (And yes, the use of "it" is intentional since we didn't know if "it" was a boy or girl.) My doctor conceded to an ultrasound to reassure me and whaddyaknow? the baby was breech. Frank breech to be exact. (Coincidentally, the same way "it's" father was delivered.)

This was on a Thursday, so my doctor scheduled an EVC for the following Monday, December 21 to be followed by an induction. You know, we wouldn't want my delivery to have interfered with his holiday plans! By that time, I was exactly 38 weeks and the baby was a decent size, so honestly, looking back and researching later, it was probably too late in the pregnancy to safely attempt this procedure. BUT, this was WAY before Wikepedia, WebMd and countless pregnancy resources on the web, so I trusted my doc and showed up at the hospital at 6:00a.m. on Monday. After getting meds to stop my contractions (who knew I'd been in labor since Friday night?!?) and 45 minutes attempting to turn the baby by 2 different docs, I was told I was being prepped for a c-section. That's really where it all went downhill... through a series of mistakes and/or mishaps.

I give you the background because remember, frank breech positioning is butt-first, so naturally, that's the first thing delivered. We knew instantly that it was a boy before we even saw his face! So, butt and legs delivered, the intern working with my doc was allowed to clamp the cord - yes, prior to full delivery, his cord was clamped. The doctor then realized that my incision was not wide enough to pass the shoulders through - um, hello! biggest part of the babe!! So, the intern held the lower half of my child, oxygen supply occluded, while my doctor increased the width of my incision. 2 minutes later, my whole baby was delivered, gray and limp, APGAR score of 1. Neonatal support was called and resuscitation ensued.

After a few agonizing minutes, Wy Guy was breathing on his own with just a little support and was whisked away to the nursery. I never saw him, except for little glimpses of his feet or head from my O.R. table across the room. His need for oxygen support meant he couldn't leave the nursery, so I finally got to see him when he was about 6 hours old.

At 26 hours old, he experienced his first move...

Wordless Wednesday

She's not that old...

Until late 2009, I was blessed to have 5 generations of women living in my family. My children will have memories that include having a great-great grandmother.

When my great-grandma Sweetie died, people said she had lived a long, lovely life - and she did. Maybe it's the word "great" in front of her title for me, but she always seemed grandmotherly and older. (Actually, it was probably more the fact that she called me "Sandy" for the last 5 years of her life and spoke of really nothing other than a trip to the zoo and monkeys when I was a baby or her current list of medications!)

In a recent conversation with my mom, we talked about how much my grandmother (Great Grandma Sweetie's daughter) is now demonstrating the aging process. She is slowing down physically and mentally. She stumbles her words, forgets often and gets confused. Truth be told, she's getting old. This is much more of a struggle for me to see and accept than I have experienced before. I'm perpetually stuck envisioning my grandmother in her 50's and cannot wrap my brain around the fact that she is any older than that. Logic tells me she is, since I'm now in my 30's and my mom's in her 50's but my eye still sees her back then. So it becomes quite emotionally confusing to see her aging.

Since my mom was a working, single parent for a while during my early childhood, I spent a lot of time with my grandparents and I loved it. My grandma was an Avon lady to the Nth degree. She was very successful early on and I got to help her run her route, taking orders and making deliveries - quite a job for a 7 year old! My grandparents lived in a cool A-frame house on a lake, which meant fishing and swimming as much as you wanted, and usually it meant without direct adult supervision :) It also meant stoking the wood in the wood burning stove in the living room and each granddaughter (3 of us in 3 years) having her own bath and powder stuff - mine was always Lily of the Valley scented! Their house meant well water and going "into town" to get groceries which then meant all the free grapes you can eat while you were shopping! On Sunday mornings, before church, we went to the "legion" for all you can eat pancakes and on the way, I got to shift the gearshift while Grandpa operated the clutch in the truck. At some point, they put up a swing set with a huge metal slide that dumped you in between the huge trees, right into the weeds and poison ivy, but we didn't care! In fact, it was grandma that suggested we sit on sheets of waxed paper to go even faster off the end!

When did my grandma get too old to do her own makeup properly and cook huge holiday dinners? I don't get it, because when I look, I see my grandma and she looks like the memories above.


Overheard at our house:
Beebo - "Yeah, when I get a phone, I don't think I want an LG. I'd rather have a touchscreen."

Wordless Wednesday

______'s Law

I don't care whether it's Murphy's, Finagle's or Sod's law, Todd left again this morning - pray for me.

Lock down?

So, I'm beginning to think that maybe Todd shouldn't be allowed to leave town - E.V.E.R. I mean, seriously, I joke about it, but every time he goes away, something goes horribly wrong. Exactly why is that?


You see, there was the time referred to here, and this time, and even before that there was the time the basement drain failed and the emptying water softener flooded the entire basement AND the time when the pipe under the sink disconnected and flooded the kitchen AND that time the furnace quit working in the middle of winter, AND then when the A/C went out in the middle of summer, oh, AND let's not forget when Sis broke her implant at summer camp in Michigan.


AND, if you saw my previous post, you'd note (probably along with the realization you are glad you're not me) that while he was gone last week, I lost the dog. Thursday night, as I dropped the kids off at my parents so that I could go to job #2, I ran home to let the dog out. Feeling bad that she had been in her crate all day, I left her loose in the garage and went to work. When I got home about 3 1/2 hours later, the back door to the garage was wide open and she was gone. Obviously I hadn't gotten the back door fully latched or something and the storm blew it open. I'm sure her leaving had to do with the storm (which she is scared of) and not being used to her surroundings yet, but I guess could have been as simple as "Oh, look mom - a squirrel. I think it wants me to chase it!" The most ironic thing about it all was that her wireless fence unit was sitting, still in the box, by the back door. My plan was to begin training on it on Saturday - yep, par for the course in my life! Thankfully on Saturday, we found her about a mile away at a "neighbor's" house. The fliers in the mailboxes about a mile in each direction really worked! A quick "THANK YOU!" to everyone who drove around, re-posted my fliers and status updates, and prayed - it all helped and we are grateful.

Oh, and straight after her bath on Saturday, we installed the wireless fence and began lessons. So far, so good - she's a quick learner.


Overheard at our house: Beebs - "He's a juice box hero... got stars in his eyes."  Me - "Do you know what the real words are to that song?"  Beebs - "Yep, he's a juice bock hero."

Capitalizing on the benefits of social media

I know some of my friends will be tired of seeing this, but I'm using every avenue I have access to at this point... miss her...

~ ~ FOUND!! ~ ~
LOST DOG!!

Missing since Thursday, May 5 sometime between 5-8p.m.

Weighs 80lbs. ~ name Nala

Last seen wearing blue bandana with a pink & brown collar

Message me or comment below for contact information

A rose by any other name

Nicknames stick to people, and the most ridiculous are the most adhesive. ~Thomas C. Haliburton

For some reason yesterday, I started thinking about nicknames and so I thought "I shall blog about nicknames." I've had my fair share of nicknames, but thankfully none have stuck well enough to cause me any mental anguish or therapy bills in my adult life. I think the best nicknames are those bestowed upon you by others, but there are actually nickname generators out there if you are feeling left out and nicknameless.

I am grateful to have a name that cannot be shortened into another name, I think. But on second thought, having a real-name abbreviated nickname may alleviate the constant necessity to correct either spelling or pronunciation of my non-nicknamed name... hmmm...

1) Bunny - this stuck through most of my early childhood. Mainly I was called this by my immediate family, although my cousin Butch (he he... not her real name) still calls me this sometimes. Apparently I had some sort of snowsuit/baby clothing item that had bunny ears (insert "awwww..." here).

2) Sluggo - my dad graced me with this one during my softball years and it's probably self explanatory. It kind of wore off as I grew out of the sport and it pretty much disappeared by high school. Somehow, though, intermixed with Sluggo was...

3) Porcupine - another name given to me by my dad. Really he was the only one to use it and I have no idea where it came from. My intuition tells me that it has something to do with being prickly and hard to handle though. Dad?

4) Tanya Lasagna - the only nickname I really hated, but now I just think it's funny. The horrors of grade school brought this one on, and obviously it's just because it rhymed - the most basic origin of nicknames is to just pick something obnoxious that rhymes. So really, in the grand scheme of nicknames, I'm just grateful that my mom didn't name me Teenis.

5) Ta Na Na Na - another fall out of grade school, but in the latter years. In Jr. High, I had a teacher's assistant who was WAY cool and she used to say this in a sing-songey voice when calling me. To date, Kiss Him Goodbye sticks in my head as a great song and fun memory of Ms. Gwen. Admit it, even if you don't share my name, it's a catchy tune, eh?

6) Darryl - not that I've ever really been girly (a fact to which my entire family will attest) but until I got married, I always had very long hair. The summer after 8th grade, at camp, someone said I looked just like Daryl Hannah minus the tail. It stuck, and at least one of those friends pretty much only calls me Darryl to this day. I love it and her.

7) Porkchop - I hesitate to add this one to the list and thus admit it. This one was given to me by my then-boyfriend, now-husband, and I wouldn't even know where to begin to give you the origins of this one. After 13 years, he doesn't really call me anything except "Hey" so this one can also now be added to the vault.

So there you have it - me in all my nickname vulnerability and glory. What about you?

Overheard at our house:
Beebs - "Yeah, I hit her. What was I supposed to do? She was all up in my grill."