'NUFF SAID

Got this from a friend. I love it.


Chain Letters

I must send my thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat poop in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet towel with every envelope that needs sealing.

Also, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.

I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.

I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program.

I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, and St. Theresa's novena has granted my every wish.

I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day.

Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.

Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains.

I no longer can buy gasoline without taking a man along to watch the car so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat when I'm pumping gas.

I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr. Pepper since the people who make these products are atheists who refuse to put "Under God" on their cans.

I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.

And thanks for letting me know I can't boil a cup of water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face...disfiguring me for life.

I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.

I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.I no longer receive packages from UPS or FedEx since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise.

I no longer shop at Target since they are French and don't support our American troops or the Salvation Army.

I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore, and Uzbekistan.

I no longer have any sneakers -- but that will change once I receive my free replacement pair from Nike.

I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have their recipe.

Thanks to you, I can't use any one's toilet but mine because a big brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my butt.

Thank you too for all the endless advice Andy Rooney has given us. I can live a better life now because he's told us how to fix everything.

And thanks to your great advice, I can't ever pick up $5.00 I dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.

Oh, and don't forget this one either! I can no longer drive my car because I can't buy gas from certain gas companies!

If you don't send this e-mail to at least 47,000 people in the next 47 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:47 PM this afternoon and the fleas from 47 camels will infest your back,causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician...

Have a wonderful day....

Oh yeah, a scientist from Argentina, after a lengthy study, has discovered that people with insufficient brain and sexual activity read their e-mail with their hand on the mouse. Don't bother taking it off now, it's too late.

THE DAYS ARE LONG

The days are long, but the years are flying by too quickly. Each year rages on faster than the one before. Where are they going? Why are they in such a hurry? Why can't things just SLOW DOWN?

Tomorrow....actually, in about 13 hours, my baby will be 2 years old. I don't know where the time has gone. When my oldest turned 2, it took longer. Perhaps because I had a 6 month old, as well. I was just trying to survive. When my 2nd turned 2, I was 5 months preggers with number 3. I was teaching. It went by fast, but seeing as how I always had a baby in the house...or one on the way...well, it went by a bit more slowly. When number 3 turned 2, I was 7 months preggers with number 4. I was still teaching, but I was in a new school. Being totally distracted by life, it seemed that things were just trucking along at a brisk, but totally tolerable pace. Finally number 2 is turning 2. I have been blessed with the ability to stay home since he was born. I have put a second child into school. I have no papers to grade, no plans to write, no tutorials to conduct. I can sleep late (if 7:00 is late) and go to bed late. I don't have to iron my day-to-day clothes. I can go to the store in the morning or go to the park. I have a life of relative leisure. Yet my son, who seems to have been born just yesterday, is turning 2. My heart aches for my baby, who is no more.

His story is quite uneventful, compared to the other 3. He was planned. In fact, when I went in for a checkup before he was conceived, I told the doctor, "I'll be back in September or October when #4 is on the way." The nurse (who was new) laughed like I was a senseless child. But my doctor, knowing how blessed I am with eager eggs, said, "If she says she'll be pregnant in the fall, she will be."

I announced my pregnancy on September 24th.

The only problem I had, in fact, the only problem I EVER had with all 4, was a touch of high blood pressure due to a parent from hell. I know...I shouldn't say that. If you knew this parent, you would realize the spawn of the devil she is.

However, I shan't dwell on the evil memories of my past life. She is no more than a mosquito in a spider web. I shall think of her no more.

ANYWAY, everything percolated along as it should. I was due on June 8. We decided to induce on June 7. My hubby was off for a few days and wanted to maximize on his bonding time. I love my man.

I went in the night before because I had to be prepped. It seems that I was not dilated a bit nor was I thinned out. (Those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about can look this up or ask your wife. :-) ) I was given a sleeping pill so that I might be fully rested for a delivery. Truly, it takes a lot out of you. LOL!!! Besides the obvious.

I woke the next morning at about 7:30 to be induced. At 9:30, my water was broken. At 9:40, I asked for drugs. At 10:15, I was ready to rock and roll. The only thing missing from this wonderful picture was the doctor. He was either on a coffee break, or taking a much needed pit stop. Either way, he was not ready. I sat and waited for about 30 minutes. Thank goodness I had an epidural. Otherwise, somebody else would have had to assume the catching position.

I sat, not feeling a thing, talking to my mother and my husband, while the nurses made sure that things were ready for the doc as soon as he graced us with his presence.

10:45 the good doctor comes in. Now, don't laugh. (Those of you with clean minds will have no clue what is so funny. Those of you who are the demented souls I love will have a good chuckle over this....) The name of my doctor: Dr. Dickey. I do not tell a lie.

Anyway, at 10:45 he comes in, sits on his stool, wheels up, says, "give me a push." One push and no grunts later I ask, "Is that what I'm paying you for?" My baby had been born.

My nurses, being totally fabulous, heeded my request to clean him off first. Yes, I know. I am a terrible mom. I wanted a clean baby. I had already gone through times when a wriggling, goopy child was placed on me. I wanted a clean child. He was my last...I wanted him clean. It took all of 5 minutes for a quick wipe down and I was handed my beautiful, perfect son.

The pediatrician did not need a name tag to ID my child. He looks just like his brothers. He nursed like a champ. He slept well from the get-go.

He was, and is to this day, every body's sweetheart. When I pick him up from the church nursery, the workers have to look for him. It seems that he is so loved that people just take him from room to room to play.

He, like my other sons, is the light of my life. I waited for 34 years for this precious life to become a part of me. I feel so blessed to have him. HE completes our family.

My precious son. I pray that God blesses you even more than He has blessed us. I pray good health over you. I pray that you continue to find favor with people you come into contact with. I pray that your footsteps are guided and that you hear the calling that is on your life.

You are my precious son. I love you! Happy Birthday, Monkey.

I'M THE QUEEN!

Denial. It's not just a river in Egypt. Denial is a state. It is a place I go to avoid the inevitable. It is the place I go to ignore the unthinkable. It is the place I go to evade the undesirable. AND, unfortunately, I am the Queen of Denial...in some cases.

There a many things that I'm pretty blunt about. I can handle it. Just let me know what I'm facing, and I'll tackle it head-on. I'm one of those pushy moms. (And that is being nice about it.)

At my son's kinder graduation, I was right up front for the ENTIRE thing. I took about 80 pictures of my child in his mini-cap and gown. Did I need 80? No! But I'll be dadgummed if I'm going to let someone get in the way of me and a photo op.

Do you know Marie Barone? She is the nosey mom on "Everybody Loves Raymond." In one episode, she kisses Ray on the forehead and says, "This man should be in bed!" When asked if Ray had a fever she stated, "Not yet, but something's coming." I am that mom. When my 3rd son starts to get a fever, I'm on it. If the thermometer shows nothing, I keep my eye on him because I KNOW it's coming. In fact, by feel alone, I'm pretty accurate in telling the temp of my child.....accurate to about 1/2 a degree.

HOWEVER, when it comes to my child's asthma, maybe I've been a queen that has been allowed to reign too long.

Back around Thanksgiving of 2004, my 3rd son started having breathing problems. He had problems to the point of us rushing him to the emergency room because his lips began to turn blue. We found out that he had pneumonia. My baby, barely 18 months old, had to sit with a nebulizer attached to his face for a few hours. We were in Austin, but were scheduled to travel back to North Texas to come back home. We were told NOT to leave the interstate as it would be easier for us to get to a hospital or for an ambulance to get to us should he have more problems in the short 3 hours drive. It was scary, to say the least.

We took him to the pediatrician that following Monday. We were given antibiotics and nebulizer meds for a week. All cleared up, the episode was soon forgotten. We had no worries...for about 3 months. Sadly, it took EVERY MONTH for at least 6 months of everything happening all over again for me to start wondering. Denial? You betcha! Every time we went to the doctor I prayed, "Please don't say 'asthma.'"

I was told that every time I thought he was about to have trouble that I could give him the meds via the nebulizer. We soon learned that after about 2 days of treatments every 4 hours, that he would clear up, for another 3.5-4 weeks. As previously stated, after doing this at least 6 times, something finally clicked and told us to pursue bit more information.

Now, we LOVE our pediatrician, but I believe God arranged for our call to come when our doctor was out of town. We saw a different doctor in the same office. It took just a few minutes of examination, questions and reviewing the baby's chart before he said it...."This is classic asthma."

My heart dropped. I did NOT want to hear that. Asthmatics can't do anything outside. Asthmatics are allergic to EVERYTHING. Asthmatics can't play sports. They can't run. They can't play. Had I not been the reigning queen, I would have been a bit more optimistic.

I was quite upset. Suddenly, we had to put my baby on heavy oral steroids. He had to have breathing treatments everyday for an entire year. The good news is that he stopped having his monthly breathing attacks.

I slowly began to come out of my funk and start to look more into the situation.

The first thing was to make an appointment with an asthma/allergy specialist. I had read that most asthmatics have allergies. We went for testing. We were thrilled to find that my baby does not have allergies. That makes his prognosis VERY good. In fact, there is a chance he could outgrow his asthma.

My child still has to have nebulizer treatments daily. But the meds are a low-dose steroid that is strengthening his lungs. We are hoping that in about 6 months, he will no longer have to have the treatments. He runs and plays like a normal boy. We do not have to have rescue inhalers. He has not had to go to the hospital since that Thanksgiving. For that, we are so glad.

We do have to watch him. His colds involve a lot more than runny noses. His colds start with a little bit of snot and a little bit of coughing. Within hours of hearing the coughs, he starts to run a fever. His heart begins to race, he develops dark circles under his eyes and you can hear the gasps as he tries to fill his lungs to full capacity. It is a painful and frightening thing to hear. During that time, we know enough to increase his nebulizer treatments to include abuterol...an asthma medication.

As an advocate for my child, it is my job to step down from the throne. I need to delve into information and find out as much as I can about asthma. God forbid he ever has an attack that sends him to the hospital. I will begin to learn more...what causes it? What triggers his attacks? What can I do to help his breathing?

As I lay beside him last night, listening to his raspy breaths, I determined to do just that. I will become as much of an expert as a stay-at-home-mom of 4 can be.

THE AGE OF THE QUEEN HAS ENDED!

TODAY IS A BIG DAY!

Today is a big day in our home. Today, my 2nd son graduates....from kindergarten. (But hey...it is still REALLY important.)

In honor of his promotion (ha...I assume he will be promoted) to 1st grade, I thought I could tell his story. A story of his arriving into this world.

Our 2nd son was a surprise...not an accident. In fact, he was only surprising in that he arrived about the time we had planned on conceiving him. God must have grand plans for him, as I was nursing AND on the pill when we found out about our son's existence.

This was our first indication as to how fertile I was and how potent my hubby was. LOL!

I was in my last year of college and I was supposed to have my "monthly notification" that nobody would be coming to live with us in the next year. I was only a few days "concerned" when I took a test that revealed a shocker....one of those Friday episodes of the soap operas type of shockers....you know...."TUNE IN TOMORROW WHEN SHE SAYS, 'Honey, you're gonna be a daddy...again.' "

Anyway, I took the test in a restroom, at the college, just minutes before a math class. I immediately decided to skip the class as the pink line appeared before the final "shhhhh" of the flush. I went to my friends' house and showed her the stick. Her quote was, "OH MY GOODNESS! Now I have to give you back all of your maternity clothes." (that is not why I went, but it did take care of that)

She agreed to babysit my then 10 month old (you read right....TEN MONTHS OLD) while I broke the news to my hubby.

Hubby came to my friends' home and my buddy began playing with my TEN MONTH OLD son. I invited DH to come look at some books I had purchased at a book fair. (Now you need to know that at this time, we were PO......not poor, not even poo....we were PO! I had been given no more than $20 to spend on books.) As we looked at the books, I told DH, "There is something else I need to tell you." In his mind, he thought I had put some books on credit card...little did he know that that would have been the cheaper event. :D

I pulled out a stick. I showed it to him. The first words out of his mouth were, "Is that yours?" Funny, I know, but when you are totally blind-sided with a pregnancy...well....you don't think too clearly.

I assured him that I had not just picked it up. He asked if I was sure. I pulled out the 2 others that I had taken in the 2 hour window from my finding out to his arrival.

He stood there for a minute (not to collect his thoughts, but to regain his balance as he very nearly passed out.) He then gave me a hug and said, "We're having another baby."

WHEW!!!

Telling family was interesting. We were asked by his grandfather if we knew that there was such a thing as recreational sex...that we didn't necessarily have to procreate. LOL! "THANKS, GRANDPA!"

Others were as surprised as we were...especially considering that we had waited 7 years before we even tried to have our first. But happiness abounded as we all prepared for another cute bundle of baby.

The pregnancy went well. I was induced because we wanted to be sure my hubby was home. (He just happened to be living in Puerto Rico at the time...he is a pilot, remember?)

The induction went well. Though after they broke my water, I asked for drugs.....I don't care what people say, you DO forget the pain. (I had delivered number 1 with no "good vibes" so I felt like Superwoman...thought I could do it again....whatEVER...I'm an idiot.)

Anyway, his arrival was not as smooth as my first. I didn't know, as it was happening, but I later found out that the cord was around his neck. For every push, he was pulled back. My doctor was TREMENDOUS. He never let on the gravity of the situation. He was able to work the cord so that baby was delivered and I didn't tear or need to be cut. (Very important...I assure you.)

When my sweet baby finally popped out, they did not put him on my tummy. They put him under the bright lights. My mother and my hubby immediately jumped into action. DH stayed with the baby and my mother distracted me...asked about names and how I felt. Shortly after the baby was out the staff had to call a "Code Blue" on him as he wasn't breathing like he should.

It was a very short, and extremely frightening situation to witness. Thankfully, he began to pink up very soon. He is now a cute boy of 6 that has finished kindergarten.

To my son,

I am SO glad you are my son. You are perfect and beautiful and I'm so very proud of you. You have a heart and an empathy that cannot be taught, nor can it be learned. I pray for your continued health. I know that God will use you one day. I only pray that I can be a positive part of that.

HAPPY GRADUATION DAY! I LOVE YOU!

THE MAN ACROSS THE STREET

The man across the street has gotta be bumping 60. I only assume that because his mother, my neighbor, just turned 80 not too long ago.

He lives with her.

I wonder...is he happy?

He works on a pick-up truck that is often on blocks.

I wonder...does he know how to fix it?

He is a smoker. He is kicked outside when he does that. He stays out to get over his coughing fit.

I wonder...does he know he is dying?

His mother has told me that he is divorced and has children.

I wonder...do his children know him?

I have never heard his voice, though I have lived across the street for almost 4 years. I never hear his voice, but I hear his music.

I wonder...does he know who I am?

He sits on the porch and plays a guitar. He is pretty good, strumming out the blues.

I wonder...is he blue within himself?

His mother seems healthy. I've never witnessed her "nasty little habits" that can kill a person.

I wonder...will she bury her son?

TODAY'S DATE

Did you notice what today is? Sadly, I'll bet most of you didn't. I know my husband knows. He might not have remembered it right away, but now that I bring it up....he knows the importance of the day.

You are looking at the date, April 25. You are wondering, "Is it an anniversary for something?" You are probably debating googling the date, just to see the importance in history. You will not find it....I don't think. I need to Google it and check, I guess.

No today is VERY important. Today is exactly 8 months until Christmas. Today is only 7 months before I decorate my house for Christmas.

Most of you think that I have flipped my lid. You think I'm out of groovy ideas to write about. You think I'm just filling this blog with a bunch of bull-pucky. I assure you, I'm not.

You can contact my hubby. He will tell you. I remind him OFTEN, throughout the year, how much longer until Christmas. Just think, it's been 4 months since Christmas. We are one third of the way there. ISN'T THAT EXCITING?

I know you think it's too soon. Whatever. Feel free to keep your opinions to "yerself" on this. My love of Christmas is so great that I celebrate AS LONG AS POSSIBLE. One month is simply NOT ENOUGH time for the holiday season.

So, here is a quick breakdown of the remainder of time before Christmas.

May - end of school (kinder graduation, Field Days, teacher appreciation, end of year parties),

June - 2 birthdays, Father's Day, vacation alone with my boy, swimming lessons, piano recitals

July - Independence Day, barbeques, swimming, going to the park

August - the start of school, PTO board meetings, the start of homework, my 16th wedding anniversary (hubba hubba)

September - the start of fall, the loss of 100+ degrees temp...and only maintaining 100 degrees temp

October - THE STATE FAIR OF THE GREAT STATE OF TEXAS (a very big deal here), Halloween, temps in the 90s...finishing up water aerobics

November - Thanksgiving (which will take me a few weeks to plan the meal and be totally anal about who will fix what and which new item will be included on the menu)

December - Birthday, Christmas, music, homemade candies, cakes, goodies, gifts

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN? We don't have much time. So, I ask you...what have you done to prepare for the holidays? I think I'll go work on my Christmas card list.

MY LOVE....MY SON

By the time you read this, tomorrow will be today. SO, I'm typing this as if it is today (tomorrow.) Get it?

Today (April 21) my third born is 4 years old. How can that be?

I can remember, before I had children, when adults would talk of time flying faster and faster. I would hear the words of grandparents, "Enjoy them while they are young; those moments go by so fast."

Truer words have never been spoken. I am heartsick that my third child is already 4 years old ~ a mere 9 years from being a teenager~ a short 12 years from having his driver's license ~ a brief 14 years before he may leave home....if I let him.

I've been a mother for 8 years. In that amount of time, he will be a "tween." (whatever that means)

My little boy was planned when my DH got his new job and we knew we would be a bit more financially able to care for another human. As with the other two, there was really no turning back once the decision was made. It seems that I have been blessed with fertility. And by that I mean that friends joke about dh brushing up against me and I end up preggers.

ANYWAY, we thought of another baby, and within a few weeks, we knew number 3 was on the way. Ultrasound revealed another boy. Though some family and friends might have felt brief disappointment on our behalf, my hubby and I were thrilled to our fingertips. ANOTHER BOY! He would be named after his great-grandfather.

His delivery was the easiest I had had up to that point. We induced in order to be sure that DH was there for his arrival. I had drugs....I'm not ashamed. Shoot....I'd do them again now if they only allowed some sort of home set-up for an epidural :)

**This is where the men who read might want to stop. The women will be OK. This is personal and somewhat graphic so if you are weak...GO AWAY!

I had my water broken at 9-something. I was given the choice of an epi at 3 cm. The drug-dude would be in surgery for awhile and I knew that by the time he got back, I would no longer be friendly. SO, we decided to go ahead. The only bad thing is that it made me sick...sick...sick. (I stopped counting my puking sessions at 6.)

When it came time to push, I was told to push for a count of 10. Being an old pro...and not feeling a darn thing, I was happy to oblige. The nurse told the doc that I would be ready shortly. I was told to push for another count of 10...which sounded something like this:

"ONE....TWO....THREE....*beep.."DOCTOR J!!!" TEN! STOP PUSHING!"

While waiting, I felt the pressure of a little one coming into the world...through no pushing of mine...he was just ooching out. (Now I know that "ooching" might not be a real word, but please....it fits.)

The doctor came in and said, "Do not laugh, cough or sneeze." (I added to myself...."or vomit. Cause if I do, this boy will fly across the room.")

The room jumped into overdrive. Things flew around. The doc wheeled up on her stool and said, "Give me a little push....give me a little push. You just had a baby." With that, she plopped my 8 pound 8 ounce writhing lump of goop on my belly.

I was immediately concerned when I noticed that his right ear wasn't formed. I was told to not worry...yet. They wanted to clean him up and check him out. I saw the doctor push around on his skull. My precious boy.....my baby....had something wrong with him.

Minutes later, he was taken to ultrasound. It seems that when the outer ear forms, that the gall bladder and kidneys grow. The big concern was not his little, malformed ear...it was the problem that was more than likely inside.

Our hearts dropped. After an easy pregnancy and a very fast and easy delivery, my baby was now a special case that had to be checked out.

I felt guilty. I had had a bad cold when I was about 4 months pregnant. I had taken quite a bit of cough medicine....all given to me by my doctor, but still...what had I done to my child? We found out later that nobody knows what causes it.

We were so thankful when we found out that his insides were all what and where they should be. But the matter of his ear....what was wrong with it, anyway? Suddenly my few appointments became more as we were dealing with a child who most likely had hearing loss.

Hearing tests showed that his good ear was 100% normal. We were thankful for that....but still had no idea how to refer to his ear. We were referred to an ENT. We were so scared. We have never really had to go to specialists before. Suddenly, we needed an ENT....we had to get out of our comfort zone...get away from the few doctors we knew. The Lord, I KNOW, heard our hearts' cries and our minds' fears. Our ENT, referred to us by our pediatrician, just happened to be one of my best friends from high school - someone I could cry in front of; someone who could hug me; someone I could get upset with and still find the answers and the comfort that I needed. THANK YOU, GOD!

It took us awhile to remember, and start to learn about, microtia atresia. Basically, it means that my son has a "little ear" (microtia) with no ear canal (atresia). The hardest part for us is what he will have to go through within the next few years. He will go through about 4 surgeries in which his ear will be rebuilt and a canal will be drilled. His speech and language are developing as they should. The only issue he has is that he can't really hear "in stereo." If you walk up behind him (or from the side where he can't see you) and speak to him, he has to look for the sound. He doesn't locate it as quickly and efficiently as others.

Here is a site that tells more about it... http://www.pde.com/~kazemir/

Shortly after we found out what we were dealing with, we took him in for an ABR. (Now don't ask me what that stands for...I don't remember...LOL...as I say that, my hubby, and my ENT's wife are yelling at the screen, hoping I'll hear that it means.....?????) Anyway, it's the test where the little wires are stuck to his noggin with glue-type goop. He slept in my arms while the computer did its thing. After about 40 minutes, the audiologist said, "I think I have enough." We took in a big breath as she stated, "He DOES have hearing in that ear." THANK YOU, GOD! (Do you see how we keep getting blessed in this time of uncertainty?)

We have learned so much since his birth. We have grown a lot, too. God really dealt with us on our issues of guilt and personal pity. He used our ENT, who had wisdom in dealing with me...a near hysterical mother. The ENT said, "This is not a life-long, nor is it a life-threatening disability. You deal with it for a few years. You fix it. You go on." WOW!!! Isn't that something?

Four years have gone by. Nobody really notices his ear. What they do notice are his dimples. They notice his curly hair and his long eyelashes. I hate to say this about a boy, but he is pretty. He is one of the prettiest children I know. He is lovable and huggable. I love my boy....the cute way he asks for "chocking milk;" the way he loves to eat his "tarTARts" in the morning; the way he runs to the bathroom every time he hears water running, just to take a "baff" or a "showla."

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LITTLE MAN!

I thank God for you. You have taught me so much. I pray many blessings on you as you go out each day. I pray protection over you. I pray for healing for you...in general health and in your hearing. I pray that I continue to learn to be the mom that God wants me to be for you. I pray for God's hand on you as you grow and live as a child of God. I pray all these things in my mighty Saviour's name!