Milestones
Friday, June 27, 2008, by Sherra
Flexible that is.
Well, let me clarify. She is very flexible as an athlete. She is, after all, the one we called our circus baby.
But she does things her way, in her time frame and has always marched to the beat of her own drum.
She is also the dominant twin. “They say” (whoever “they” are) that one twin is typically the more dominant twin. We watched this from the very beginning. She was a tiny bully. She plucked Wizzy’s binky out of her mouth. She scooted and crawled over to Wizzy and took whatever toy she had or was even thinking about having. She learned how to jump and catapult out of her crib and land in Wizzy’s crib and jump on her.
One day I heard Wizzy crying intermittently and I quietly went around the corner to see why and Roger Leroy was hitting her and with a gleam in her eye saying,
“Cye, Wizzy, cye again”
She has overcome the speech impediment but not necessarily her penchant for teasing and tormenting her twin whenever she can.
Stubborn and quirky are words that describe her.
On her first birthday, it took about seven adults watching her and saying “Sit back down” to keep her in her high chair. Even when strapped in, she was a little Houdini baby who could get out of anything.
At one year-old they each weighed 16 pounds. 16 pound tiny people are not suppose to walk.
Or try to climb out of the cart at Home Depot.
Only by God’s grace did I catch the hem of her dress before she hit the concrete floor head first.
Here she is stuck in a toy bucket…
I think she had underwear on but I can’t really remember.
Here she is sleeping with a ball balanced on her eye. PhilBillPhil found her this way and he took this picture.
Are you getting the quirky vibe yet?
Here she is with Silly Putty.
Yep, we have all done that with Silly Putty, haven’t we?
Here she is on our driveway wrapped and tied up in her bedroom comforter…because we always take our bedding outside to play with it on the driveway.
I think they referred to this as the “burrito game” and she would then free herself from all the knots her siblings had tied. This, by the way, was at her request.
She can walk on stilts, bounce down the street on a pogo stick, juggle, ride a unicycle and shoot a basketball and make the shot on the unicycle. She has yet to meet a sport she couldn’t play and excel at.
She is “mama junior” to Scary Baby and has always had a special bond with her. She makes good grades and has an internal drive to do her best. She excels at anything she puts her mind to.
When she’s not irritating her twin sister, they have a lot of fun together.
Like last summer when they went to Tampa. They went over to Luci’s Alzheimer’s facility several times.
She fell in love there.
His name is Oscar.
Another picture I had to frame. Pure joy in both their faces as he gave her a kiss when she went over to tell him goodbye.
And when she’s not being a total jock or an L.C. (Little Crud as PhilBillPaul refers to her) or rolling her eyes at me…
She actually cleans up nicely and is a beautiful young woman.
We love you, circus baby…
P.S. Celebrate with me that The Twin Birthmonth Party is now
OFFICIALLY OVER!!! 
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Categories: Finding the Funny, Milestones, Moments, Rants, Raves
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Wednesday, June 25, 2008, by Sherra
It is official!
They are seventeen years old today.
Here’s that “bday plan” I told you I’d share. As if this very neat and tidy written plan gave them permission to plan TWO MORE DAYS of birthday festivities.
Huge sigh…
Here are those tiny babies I had seventeen years ago and was sure I would die while birthing two babies…
Luckily I had PhilBillPaul to remind me that while I was having two babies I needed to relax and these were his exact words, “Because they don’t come out at the same time.”
That made me feel sooooo much better.
5 pounds 13 ounces and 6 pounds and 1/2 ounce still adds up to TWELVE pounds of babies and NO ONE in my family had twins.
Lucky for us and for them, they were pretty darn cute…
And it was nice to have a next-door neighbor who had her first baby eight weeks before I had the girls. We were both rookies at this parenting gig and we helped each other in those early years. Thanks Elizabeth for helping me with my three even when you just had one. (Who would have ever guessed we would both have four now? Neither of us!)
All through my pregnancy, one of my closest friends in my life was back in Tampa, calling, checking on me and cheering me on. She was so excited that I was having twins. Because she is a twin. She thought it would be really cool if I could have them on her birthday. Since I was due in late July, I told her I probably couldn’t schedule that for her.
Until my blood pressure spiked and the midwife said, “We need to induce labor and deliver these babies today.”
“WAIT” I might have squealed in the doctor’s office that day. I didn’t have my little bag packed for the hospital that they tell you to have ready. I had no childcare for The Grunter. I was huge and uncomfortable and high risk and delivering twins in the heat of an Atlanta summer is an added bonus but I wasn’t ready that day!
She gave me no choice and said she’d meet us at the hospital. We had only lived in our neighborhood for four months but southern hospitality was alive and well when neighbors we barely knew pitched in and took care of The Grunter who was not yet two.
As we got off the exit for the hospital, I called Luci and said, “I have until midnight tonight, right?” You would have thought she was having the babies. She screamed and was so excited and added another request…which I thought was a little greedy… since I was trying to comply with the birthday request…”If they’re two girls, name them Luci and Lori, okay?”
Because up to this point, we only knew that “Baby A” was a girl so “Baby B” was going to be a surprise.
I delivered twin daughters 4 weeks early on Luci and Lori’s birthday.
Because that’s the kind of friend I always strive to be.
In Tampa near their first birthday Luci and Lori got to hold the twins that were born on their birthday but are not their namesakes! As you can see, Luci and Lori are as fraternal as my two lovelies.
Last year for their milestone 16th birthday, they got to spend the week with Luci and Lori and their families in Tampa. This was, of course, before I knew we’d be having this Birthmonth Party this year for their 17th year.
I did have one special request for Luci. I asked if she could “recreate” as best she could, the picture of her and Lori with my twins. It’s a big deal for them that Lori, the firstborn, was paired with Roger Leroy and Luci was paired with the younger (by 18 minutes) Wizzy.
Being one of my funny friends, Luci not only complied with my request…they actually woke up the girls before they were leaving early on the last day my girls were flying home. Not such a great picture of the girls but I still framed it and it always makes me smile.
Luci is the friend who brought PhilBillPaul to the hospital after the car crash. She and I were roommates before I got married. She has been there through the best of times and the worst of times and continues to be one of those lights in my life and we have loved each other through some giant life milestones.
It is a double birthday today in our extended family.
Happy birthday to Luci (and Lori) too!
Okay, I’ll wrap up this double long post (that’s what happens when you have twins) with a photo tribute to these daughters of mine who continue to tempt me to start drinking alcohol. Stupid mom #2 pointed out that the reason we have baby pictures is to remind us of how cute they were when we’re not feeling the cute during these teen years. Sage observation!
They were pretty darn cute kindergarten girls.
Basketball at church at age seven was darn funny to watch. This was Roger Leroy’s boy haircut stage and she loved it.
Daddy really loved having twin daughters. In the early days, they were “chick magnets” if he pushed them in the stroller at the mall. Looking back now, I guess I should have been more concerned about this…but I was too tired to care.
5th grade uniforms made me very happy! Roger Leroy’s hair growing back also made me happy.
A giant growth spurt in 6th and 7th grade made Wizzy very happy.
In the early years, they actually let me (okay, it was a rule) fix their hair. And they wore girly colors like pink and purple. I obviously did not win on the girly shoe or sandal selection.
Apparently I traumatized them because they will wear nothing in any shade of pink or purple now unless it has a basketball or cross country logo on it.
As you can see, they have also been traumatized by a mother who took pictures incessantly. Some day they will be grateful for this. Some day they will understand the historical value of a picture like this one taken in 1997…
And they will forgive me for insisting PhilBillPaul take them out last night to pose for this one…
Look at the joy on their faces. It is so sweet that we have that moment captured on film.
In spite of all the ups and downs of parenting them, we couldn’t imagine our life without them. We are very proud of the young women they are becoming…
And every single day we tell them we love them. Because we do.
I love you baby girls…
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Categories: Finding the Funny, Milestones, Teens
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Monday, June 23, 2008, by Sherra
We have recently learned that 5 days in Nashville is not significant enough birthday celebration for twin girls turning 17.
Um, and who decided this?
NOT the parents.
Appparently, the Nashville trip falls under the Never Enough Syndrome.
Because getting to personally meet AND touch Taylor Swift was not enough.
Wednesday, which is their actual birthday, I’ll be sure to show you the sheet they tossed on my bed entitled “Bday Plan” early last week.
Because when I was growing up, we spent the whole MONTH celebrating whoever was born that month. NOT.
In a family of six, that would be half the year spent celebrating birthdays.
Don’t get me wrong, we do celebrate (quietly, in our hearts) being the parents of four healthy children. We really do.
But these twin daughters of ours are testing our patience more than usual.
I’m sure it’s because they are twins and have had to share everything.
Starting with my womb. As if this is my fault?
They’ve shared a room. They’ve shared a birthday cake every year.
Mothers of multiples, no judgment here please! Remember we all get to choose whether we dress them alike and if they are split up in school and if one cake with two names works for our family and all those other major decisions that parents of multiples are plagued with.
On the positive side, they are literally best friends and it warms my heart…when they aren’t fighting.
Today I thought I would take a few moments to post about ONE twin instead of two. Yes, I confess, it is hard to not consider them a unit even though they are not siamese. Heck, they’re not even identical. It’s just easier to refer to The Grunter, The Girls and Scary Baby.
So today, I choose Wizzy.
Because as the younger of the two, she always seemed to have to go last for everything.
Well, that and her twin was the dominant a.k.a. bully twin for many, many years.
So here is my photo tribute to Wizzy who is the biggest people-pleaser of our four kids.
She is a peace keeper and a friend to all. She is funny and kind. She is sweet and fiery. She is a leader and is always the first to help. She has a huge heart and loves everyone.
She displayed athletic talent and basketball skill very early. Check out those Converse Chuck Taylor high tops!
She was the best belated Father’s Day present PhilBillPaul has yet to receive.
She let me dress her up in girlie clothes for years. She’s still the *easy* twin to shop with for clothes!
She is unique in every way. She didn’t really resemble her other 3 siblings and is our only redheaded child. Then her cousin visited from Texas and we realized she is a Humphreys through and through. We are still amazed at how much they look alike!
She was the last lucky duck to ride (and drive) Grandad’s golf cart. They had so much fun together with special one-on-one time!
She wasn’t so lucky on Friday when she went to play golf and an errant shot from another hole hit her in the stomach while she was selecting her club. I almost cried when she came home and showed me this horrible mark on her stomach. Notice that she smiled and let me take a picture. Did I mention she finished the round and injuries don’t get in the way of competition.
Disclaimer: Not a lesson she learned from me. I would have stopped playing and drove home crying and stayed in bed for a few days.
Finding out a “redneck” golfer (I’m trying to be nice here) did not even yell “FORE” which is proper golf etiquette when you hit a bad shot and you MUST warn everyone within the sound of your voice.
Thank goodness that she is okay and it didn’t hit her in the head–we would have spent the weekend in the hospital.
Sidenote: If you don’t know or understand all the intricate rules of golf, do us all a favor and learn them before you come out on the course and ruin the game for others. There are books that you can read about the rules or if you can’t read, watch a video. Or, you can’t learn the rules, take up a less complicated sport.
Finally, my lovely, tall, lanky daughter is truly a delight to be around. She wakes up singing like a bird (not inherited from either parent) and really does try to make the world a better place.
Before she embarks on her next journey to make a new friend, help a stray animal or bring a smile to a stranger’s face she has an important job to do. She needs to go shopping for some new jeans because Sunday night she bent over and split her favorite jeans and even if mama could sew, I don’t think we can repair these…
We love you, precious daughter…
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Tuesday, May 27, 2008, by Sherra
Let me start by saying I’m doing my my civic duty to educate any readers who weren’t sure what yesterday’s Memorial Day signifies here in our country.
Cities all around the United States hold their own ceremonies on the last Monday in May to pay respect to the men and women who have died in wars or in the service of their country.
Memorial Day is not limited to honor only those Americans from the armed forces. It is also a day for personal remembrance. Families and individuals honor the memories of their loved ones who have died. Church services, visits to the cemetery, flowers on graves or even silent tribute mark the day with dignity and solemnity. It is a day of reflection. However, to many Americans the day also signals the beginning of summer with a three-day weekend to spend at the beach, in the mountains or at home relaxing.
The above is an excerpt from this website in case you want to prepare your next year’s homeschool lesson and you need more history, quizzes, puzzles and fun about Memorial Day. Oh yeah, I am a planner - just ask my kids about those homeschooling years and how organized I was. Always getting things ready a year in advance. I’m like that.
I do hope that you were able to take a little time to say a quiet prayer or pay special tribute to our armed forces who continue to serve our country with such honor.
So many relatives and friends have served that if I started to list them, I know I would leave someone out. Right now, my cousin Sally’s son, Rob, is serving in Iraq.
And of course, you all got to read the special words my friend Ann’s husband shared right here.
There is never a time that a story or a picture of our our military doesn’t choke me up.
(Arlington National Cemetery - May 22, 2008) — Flags stand vigil at gravesites in Arlington National Cemetary. The 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment (The Old Guard) began their rounds to place a small American flag into the ground in front of every grave marker at Arlington National Cemetery for the upcoming Memorial Day observance. (Photo by Adam Skoczylas).
Memories
But Memorial Day does more than choke me up.
Every year PhilBillPaul and I take time to remember how our lives changed and what we have survived.
Today marks 20 years to the day.
May 27th, 1988.
The day we were hit head-on by a drunk driver.
We never forget the irony of that Memorial Day weekend when we went to see this movie before the crash.
I’ll never forget the stories of what happened that I’ve been told. Because I really don’t remember anything.
The phone call he had to make to Illinois to tell my parents.
The last thing my mom remembers him saying before they hung up.
“Oh, and you should probably know she’s on a respirator.”
PhilBillPaul has always had a way with words. This time we didn’t argue about it.
It’s hard to argue when you’re in a coma…
Eleven days in a coma.
I’ve lost count of how many times people have asked…
Do you remember waking up?
Could you hear people talking to you?
Did you see a white light?
No, no and no.
I do vaguely remember pulling out my IV and other various tubes because I needed to get all the doctors together for a conference call to Portugal.
Who knew they gave coma patients such big responsibilities?
(I think this is also called hallucinating.)
I am still not sure where Portugal is.
I clearly remember my mom telling me to behave and answer the doctors’ questions correctly or they would think I was crazy. I remember her telling me through gritted teeth “This is no time to be funny.”
See, I was funny before the coma. Some people think I’m still funny.
So much to learn when you wake up from a coma.
Did you know that when you have been hospitalized for close to 30 days that you shouldn’t raise your arms up when you have guests? Luckily my mom was there to motion from across the room and hiss whisper
“Put your arms down!”
“WHY?” I said in a very loud voice.
More hand gestures and pointing and my brain worked well enough at that moment to realize that visitors didn’t want to see four weeks of my new European unshaven look.
Whatever. Like I really cared. I was alive.
Miracles
Brain injury, rehab, therapy…
I believe.
20 years later, I believe more than ever.
Tonight, after we put Scary Baby to bed, we might even get crazy and watch the DVD we have of the crash scene and me being loaded on the LifeFlight helicopter to remind our three driving teenagers that they are not in control of everything.
Who knew that an ambulance chaser with a new video camera would provide us with such a teaching tool for our then, yet-to-be-born children?
Don’t think we’re being morbid. We will have popcorn and celebrate, I promise!
I hope you and your loved ones remain safe and happy.
I truly hope you all enjoyed a three day weekend filled with fun memories and fabulous miracles…
Life Lesson (LL): Little or big. They’re all around us. Miracles happen every single day.
Share a Life Lesson (SALL): Feel free to ask me any *coma* questions…people still seem to be fascinated and I don’t mind. Share a miracle in your life…your miracle can serve as such inspiration for someone else!
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Monday, May 19, 2008, by Sherra
It’s graduation week here in the South. The open houses and parties have begun.
We’ve been through graduation with our firstborn once before.
He made it through kindergarten with flying colors.
As if any of us needed to wear a cap and gown and “graduate” from kindergarten. Sure, we bought right into the new ritual. Ahh, the peer pressure.
He sailed through elementary school even when we homeschooled (gasp) during his 4th grade year.
He was a cute 1st grader.
Middle school (known as junior high back in my day) was relatively painless as well.
He was a cute 7th grader too. Yes, I know I’m biased.
He will remind me that homeschooling again (double gasp) in 8th grade created struggles for him in high school. Math specifically.
Sorry, Bud, I did the best I could.
We made the best educational decisions we could throughout the years. We have experienced private Christian school, homeschooling and public school.
We know there is no such thing as the perfect school much like we know there are no perfect children or perfect parents.
Eighteen years and thirteen years of school have not really flown by. Some people claim that the years fly by. Sometimes I have even claimed that.
The Grunter has survived being our firstborn and our “test boy.” He has actually passed again with flying colors.
Don’t get me wrong - the journey has not always been smooth sailing. The Cocoa Krispie Nightmare was just one of our many struggles I can write about while still maintaining some decorum (and while he still lives at home with us).
He is not walking in his high school graduation ceremony. After he told me three times he didn’t want to go to the ceremony, I listened. It seems to have created more stress for friends and family than it has for him or us.
This is the first of many decisions he is making on his own.
This is the part where my job description as mom starts to change.
This is the part where I worry and praise and love and pray.
This is the part where you start to let go.
This picture is one of my all-time favorites in his photo album when he was just a wee little naked baby learning to walk.
The quote I wrote on the page of his album so many years ago and is very poignant for me right now…
“A boy has two jobs. One is just being a boy.
The other is growing up to be a man.”
–Herbert Hoover
His job of being a boy is almost over.
His job of becoming a man is just beginning.
Life Lesson (LL): Growing and nurturing a baby boy into a man is a hard, scary job.
Share a Life Lesson (SALL): Share how your “babies” are turning out. Moms supporting moms makes the job a little less overwhelming!
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Monday, May 12, 2008, by Sherra
At our house, we call it the “Never Enough” syndrome. It seems that no matter what we buy, give or do, it’s “never enough.” If we say yes, they ask for one more thing. If we say midnight, they say “12:30.” If we say pick one, they say “two. If we say pick two, they say “three.”
Okay, you get the idea. Anyone else relate to this syndrome?
Reflecting on a quiet Mother’s Day yesterday and keeping focused on my job as the mean mom with Scary Baby grounded for the day and the teenagers all working, I thought of one of my favorite Erma Bombeck writings. I know it has made its way around the internet email forwarding system many times. Often without proper attribution.
My kids actually read the blog from time to time and I wonder if they’re still too young to really “get it.”
Fellow mean moms get it.
Erma got it.
It’s really worth reading again.
You Don’t Love Me
“You don’t love me!”
How many times have your kids laid that one on you?
And how many times have you, as a parent, resisted the urge to tell them how much?
Someday when my children are old enough to understand the logic that motivates a mother I’ll tell them.
I loved you enough to bug you about where you were going, with whom, and what time you would get home.
I loved you enough to insist you buy a bike with your own money that we could afford and you couldn’t.
I loved you enough to be silent and let you discover your hand-picked friend was a creep.
I loved you enough to make you return a Milky Way with a bite out of it to a drugstore and confess, “I stole this.”
I loved you enough to stand over you for two hours while you cleaned your bedroom, a job that would have taken me fifteen minutes.
I loved you enough to say, “Yes, you can go to Disney World on Mother’s Day.”
I loved you enough to let you see anger, disappointment, disgust, and tears in my eyes.
I loved you enough not to make excuses for your lack of respect or your bad manners.
I loved you enough to admit that I was wrong and ask your forgiveness.
I loved you enough to ignore “what every other mother” did or said.
I loved you enough to let you stumble, fall, hurt, and fail.
I loved you enough to let you assume the responsibility for you own actions, at six, ten, or sixteen.
I loved you enough to figure you would lie about the party being chaperoned, but forgave you for it … after discovering I was right.
I loved you enough to shove you off my lap, let go of your hand, be mute to your pleas … so that you had to stand alone.
I loved you enough to accept you for what you are, not what I wanted you to be.
But most of all, I loved you enough to say no when you hated me for it. That was the hardest part of all.
–Erma Bombeck
I hope all you mean moms (and nice moms) had a wonderful Mother’s Day.
And I hope and pray that my kids know that I have always loved them enough even when it seems like it is never enough…
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Wednesday, May 7, 2008, by Sherra
I got home late Sunday night from five fun-filled days visiting relatives in Indiana.
As I shared last week, I went back home to Indiana to visit Imogene.
One week ago on Wednesday I surprised Imogene and spent the afternoon with her. She has fallen twice since I was there last year so she spends most of her time in a wheelchair. She has made a remarkable recovery especially at age 92.
She doesn’t go out very much, if at all. Since I was there by myself and was not on a schedule, I made myself available if she wanted to go anywhere. After a little encouragement because I’m sure you know how much her generation “doesn’t want to be a burden” she finally said “I sure would like to have some good food at Gray’s.”
Gray Brothers Cafeteria is a local landmark in Mooresville, Indiana.
Photo of Gray’s sign came from this fun food blog.
Cafeterias are not my favorite kind of restaurants. I actually refuse to eat at them here in Georgia. (Another one of my issues…for another day.)
But Gray Brothers is different. I love it.
PhilBillPaul loves cafeterias so I had to take a picture of our food so I could show him I had his favorite chicken and noodles (and corn and potatoes and a roll and butterscotch pie if you’re taking inventory.)
I found a far better picture of their food at RoadFood.com which is a fun site that features reviews the kind of down-home restaurants we love.
“A tray of lunch, Gray Brothers-style. Clockwise from the bottom left: candied beets, dinner roll, banana cream pie, orange chiffon Jell-O, lemonade, chicken with cornbread dressing.”
- Michael Stern
Imogene had those candied beets (yuck) and jello salad and fried potatoes and strawberry pie with her chicken and noodles. My photography skills really didn’t do justice to our meal.
Yes, it does appear that we might have thought this was our last meal. I’m happy to report it wasn’t. We actually took some beets, jello salad and pie back to her room.
Everything was absolutely delicious and words cannot describe what it meant to me to get to spend the afternoon with her and take her out to dinner.
The waitress took our picture and I’ve already ordered two 5 x7 prints that I’m framing–one for me and one for her!
Life Lesson (LL): In spite of gas prices and a nine hour drive, the trip was worth every moment I got to spend with Imogene and other relatives!
Share a Life Lesson (SALL): Any trip you’ve taken or are planning to take to visit someone special in your life?
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Wednesday, April 30, 2008, by Sherra
I hope that when you are reading this I am visiting or about to visit Imogene in Indiana.
She’s the only Grandma I’ve ever known as my mom’s mother passed away when I was just six months old.
I’ve been lucky enough to be the keeper of some very special family photos.
Side note: Volunteer to make an album and relatives might give you some precious pictures.
My mom grew up on this farm and I grew up as a city kid who was lucky enough to visit the farm.
Imogene sent me a thick envelope of pictures in 1995 and I love what she wrote and I included it on the album page. Grab a magnifying glass, it’s worth reading!
My cousin Dayna captured the essence of us city kids visiting the farm by writing this story for the family reunion album I created almost 15 years ago.
For a little girl who lived in the city, the farm might as well have been Disney World. There were so many things to explore and never enough time. From the gravel road you turned into the driveway which had a bridge over the pond. Never mind that there was probably only inches of water beneath it, I always held my breath as we went over it because there were no sides to this bridge and you just never knew how good a driver your Dad was! Up the hill stood the farmhouse and many, many other buildings just waiting to be explored. There were skinny sidewalks that surrounded the house and sometimes led to nowhere. There were so many doors and porches on that house it was amazing. Of course, one sidewalk led down to the outhouse which was, to a city kid, unbelievable. The darkness, smell and bugs in the corner were just enough to make you wish you were back home! Then there was that huge big tank in the yard which you never fully understood what it was used for. It was best for telling your little brother or sister that if they hit it too hard, it just might explode the whole farm! What a great place this farm was for me. I can remember every little detail about it as if I were just there yesterday. It’s all in my heart and memory forever.
My Grandad passed away the year I married PhilBillPaul. We continued to have family reunions on Labor Day weekend at my Uncle Jack’s farm for more than 25 years.
Now it was my turn to bring my city kids to the farm. City kids getting to see pigs is a big deal.
But the bigger deal has always been spending time with extended family. The stories. The pictures. The memories.
Here is one of my favorite quotes I included on the album page that was my Grandad’s last Labor Day reunion…
Enjoy the little things for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.
–Robert Brault
All those reunions were the big things. I always knew that. I still know that.
My mom is the second youngest of seven children who are all still alive.
(I won’t mention names but ages range from 81 to 59…can you hear my slow whistle? It’s impressive, we know!)
13 years and one month flew by and we didn’t miss the irony when she was the first to lose her spouse, my dad, at the age of 60.
Meanwhile, the years continue to pass by and time doesn’t stand still.
I know I’m not telling you anything you don’t know. I hope this will be a soft whisper and a gentle reminder.
Last year as I made my way back home from The Black Hole, I stopped in to spend the afternoon with Imogene. We went shopping and out to eat and before I left I snapped this picture of her standing by my car with my camera phone. At age 91, my bright blue VW Bug matches her personality.
Imogene is funny and spunky and I have always loved spending time with her. To get to spend one-on-one time with her is a sheer delight for me.
Of course, the time I get to spend with her is rare since we moved from Indiana when I was in the 3rd grade and I’ve never lived there again.
Kids and life have a way of getting in the way of visiting.
I’m making the time to visit this week. It is a privilege that I don’t take lightly.
Notice I said I’m making time. It’s not in the budget. It’s not on the schedule. The teenagers will probably think of new reasons for me to take Valium while I’m away. Maybe I should leave some Valium for PhilBillPaul…
But I’m going because I can’t stop time and on my list of priorities, this one is right at the top of my list.
Hopefully I’ll get to see Uncle Jack, Uncle Jerry, Aunt Jane, Sally, Dayna and anyone else interested in seeing me while I’m there. As you can imagine, there are a whole lot of relatives in Indiana. But I’m starting with the oldest and most favorite first.
Dysfunction still abounds but…
There’s a magical tie to the land of our home, which the heart cannot break, though the footsteps may roam.
–Eliza Cook
And I’m bringing my good camera this time.
Life Lesson (LL): Life is short. Make time, take pictures and don’t forget to write down the stories.
Share a Life Lesson (SALL): Share a favorite story about your grandparents…your memory might help someone create a family memory for their family!
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Categories: Life Lessons, Milestones, Moments
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Monday, April 21, 2008, by Sherra
She turns nine tomorrow.
That last baby we actually planned.
The one that we waited so long to have because having one + two more in less than three years was daunting.
We strategically planned to have that last baby so that the first three would be old enough to babysit. That plan has served us well.
We also knew that we wanted an even number…um, why? I have no idea why except the first three so close together just threw me off balance.
I was sure #4 would round out our family.
I love, love, love babies.
I did know I wanted to rock and hold and nurse and love just one baby.
Side note: I confess that I did pray that there would only be one baby.
I didn’t know I would have to fight Roger Leroy (a.k.a. Mama Jr.) to get a turn to hold her.
I did know that that last baby would be adored by all of us and she would always be “The Queen.”
I didn’t know how hard it would be for her to have five pseudo parents instead of two. You have to have a lot of personality and a good sense of humor to keep up in our house. Obviously, she can hang with us.
I did know we would see the world through her eyes and she would make us slow down and see beauty in the simple things.
I didn’t know she would be my only girly-girl. But still love dirt and bugs and
caterpillars.
I did know that her daddy had more than enough love for another daughter.
He lights up in her presence.
I didn’t know she would test my patience in ways I never dreamed before the teen years even hit. Big sigh…
I did know that our family would be blessed beyond measure to have her in our world. And having an even number isn’t so odd.
Happy Birthday Baby Girl! You are beautiful and smart and funny.
We all love you to the moon…
xoxo
Mama
P.S. For the observant few, oh yes, that is a giant tattoo on her hand.
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Categories: Milestones, Moments, Raves, Toddlers (& babies), Tweens
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Wednesday, March 5, 2008, by Sherra
I’d like to call this the “final” post of my series on The Black Hole.
But I also know that would be a big mistake.
It is ten months after the ordeal that was my spring, summer and part of fall of last year.
I have since found a new holistic gynecologist. He dropped obstetrics some years ago and his focus is on women and hormone balance.
You can check out his website. He has a lot of excellent information on the site. I found the “Resources” page very helpful and printed out a lot of reading material even before my first appointment. It has been a fresh starting point for me and you may find some information that could help you or someone you love.
Having a doctor who is proactive and orders blood work and actually schedules an appointment to go over the results is a welcome change. Sending a postcard or telling you “someone will call” if there is anything to discuss just doesn’t meet my needs.
A annual exam, a pat on the back and a bill to pay is no longer enough for me. Maybe it shouldn’t be enough for any of us.
I can tell you that having a doctor who sits down with you and goes over lab work with you personally and actually listens to you is a giant step in the right direction.
Yesterday was my third appointment with him since September. I will see him again in four months. It is an amazingly good feeling when you know you are headed in the right direction and you have a doctor on your side.
It’s like we’re managing my care together. Frankly, that is what is suppose to happen when you go to the doctor!
Some people might even refer to this as excellent customer service. What a rare thing to find in the medical industry these days.
I don’t have a solution or a cure. I know I’m still prone to depression especially if a boulder gets in my way. I’m not offering medical advice to anyone. You will have to do your own research and find treatment that works for you.
Key words: Don’t miss them - for you.
I’m just one woman who wants to tell the truth and stay real.
I’m feeling so much better. About once a month or so, The Black Hole calls my name and sometimes I still crawl into bed for the day. But it is nothing like last year.
I’m getting back “the me I used to know” which is not necessarily “the me before the head injury” but rather; it is “the me who is in a much better place.”
Depression is an insidious, real disease. It can creep into your life and try to slowly strangle you.
Maybe your family misses the signs.
Maybe your mother and father grew up in the generation where they weren’t allowed to “be depressed” and they were expected to “get over it” and you were taught the same thing.
Maybe you don’t have a Luci or Ann or a friend who will rescue you.
Maybe you think it’s a sign of weakness and you keep telling yourself you just have to “snap out of it.”
I’m here to tell you it is real. And sometimes you can’t just “snap out of it.”
I really want women to not feel so alone. I want them to know we are so much more alike than we are different. I want us to stop hiding from the truth about life and coping so we can help each other when one of us slips into The Black Hole.
Let’s help each other move boulders.
Let’s throw each other a rope.
Let’s save each other.
The End…for now.
P.S. My heartfelt thanks to all of you who have read through each post on this *depressing* subject and for all the comments and personal emails. It really means a lot to me. Stay tuned for a new series next week I’m calling “Little Lessons.” This series should be a lot more FUN than The Black Hole.
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Categories: Friends, Life Lessons, Milestones
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