I don't know how it's happened that twice within a week's time I've been up at 4am. Well, I do know how - once I just woke up and today I had to have my oldest ready to leave for a field trip by 5 - but while sitting here at 7 in the morning, drinking the next to last cup of coffee in the pot and being tired enough to go back to bed already when it's just now getting to be time to wake the rest of the bunch up...that's not good. My sentence structure is never anything to brag about on the best of days but I can see by that last one today is no time to try to write anything.

Now I've never claimed to be the most organized person in the world. I can't even lay claim to being awake this morning. But I've been sitting here puzzling about the schedule for this field trip today. The kids had to eat breakfast before they left home this morning. That means between 4:30 and 5:00 am these kids ate. Lunch isn't scheduled until between 11:00 and 1:00. They weren't allowed to take any snacks of any kind. Then they won't eat again the rest of the day and they won't be home until after 4:30 this afternoon. What makes it hard is their lunches have to go in a paper bag and can't need refrigeration. Can they make this more unhealthy for the kids? They weren't allowed to take anything to drink either so chances are for the entire day they will be provided with the equivalent of a juice box to drink and (I'm surely hoping) a chance to stop at a water fountain once or twice. Just seems like a mighty small amount to ask all those kids to go all day on. What do I know though? I'm just a parent who would let all the kids take a back pack provided they carry and keep up with it all day (they are allowing them to take cameras and books, etc for entertainment on the bus). I'd have everyone with a water bottle, a hot or cold pack and a real lunch and would take them out to sit on the grass for a snack before getting back on the bus for an over two hour trip back home. It would surely be chaos.

And we wouldn't leave before 8.

Old friends and the pox (still)

Jakey is going to miss Halloween and I'm bummed. He has this adorable bullfrog costume but he will be all dressed up with no place to go. It hurts me for him to have to miss it. If he would have just broke out with the pox and been done with it we'd be set, but no, he has to break out one spot at a time for six whole days. His birthday party had to be cancelled this year too because we (we all, actually) had the flu. It's just bad. Bad, bad, BAD. I hate having to disappoint him so. So any suggestions on how to entertain a broken hearted, rather-be-out-gathering-candy-than-be-here six year-old, stuck at home alone while his sisters gather the candy boodle...just let me know. I appreciate any ideas. ANYTHING.

I heard from an old friend last night. He's not old really, I'm still way older than him no matter that he's eight years older than when I last saw him. He lived with me and Doug during his last year of college after his parents moved out of town. It was just me, Doug and Leirin at the time. I was pregnant with Emily when he graduated and joined the Air Force through the ROTC program at the university. After graduation he moved to Oklahoma to finish his AF schooling and then was on to Greenland. Now he lives in England with his wife and they are expecting their first baby.

I've missed him. When Leirin was a baby and I had nowhere to go and a complete shortage of dates, he was my friend. He knew I was sitting at home the majority of the time so when he had nothing better to do, he would rent movies and we'd hang out. When his date plans got cancelled, he'd take me to the nice dinner place so he wouldn't have to cancel reservations. When Doug and I first started dating, he still ended up being my date because Doug would be working all the time. So Chaz and I would load up and go out...sometimes to Dougs, and sometimes to dinner just so I wasn't sitting at home and Chaz wasn't sitting at home. Alone. When we had each other neither of us ever had to be alone.

It wasn't really like we were each other's last ditch plans. Though it often turned out that way, we often planned things together ahead of time and had "dates" of our own that didn't start off being planned with someone else. We just always knew the other was there. We were just buds. Great buds. And I have sure missed him. For many years he was the constant in my life - my best friend. Friends like that are hard to come by.

And now he's in town and Jake has the chickenpox and I'm not sure if it's safe for him to come over. I'd really really hate to send chickenpox home to his baby. He's going to check and if all is safe, I'll see him today. In fact, he said he'd come see me even if he has to stand in the yard and talk to me through the living room window but I hope it doesn't have to be that way. I'd love to sit at the table with him again and talk about what's been going on. True, it will be hard to catch up on many years that have passed but we'll give it a go, trade email addresses again since he is in a place where he will be staying for a while and maybe this time we won't lose track of each other. That way I'll get to know when his baby girl gets here and what name they decide on and other important things like that. Like it should be with friends.

The clock just chimed the half hour. Half past 5. That's a.m. And get this, I've been up for an hour and a half already. Sometimes it happens and I'm not sure where it comes from. I'm just glad it doesn't come that often. I love the quiet but I sure don't enjoy running out of gas right about the time everyone else is gearing up for the day. Neatest thing happened this morning though. I woke up with fixed hair. I don't know how it happened. Last night I showered, washed my hair, brushed it a little and rubbed a little dab of my favorite no frizz stuff through it like always and this morning, voila! I have wavy curls of beautifully "done" hair. Watch it flop by 7.

To go with my pretty hair I have a huge patch on my left eye - the one that has been swollen shut for a couple of days now because of the horrid stye. I'm self medicating and the patch was my latest and greatest idea. The first one was dog medicine. That's right. Our old Brandy-dog has to keep opthalmic ointment on hand because she has a tendency to get these little cysts on her eyeballs and eww they can get rough in no time. So I keep ointment. A couple of nights ago when I went to return movies, I ran into the pharmacy next door to pick up some of that OTC stye cream to see if it might help my eye. Em was with me and we strolled through the medicines looking for eye stuff. A ten minute browse through the thousands of bottles of eye drops and washes and soon we had a box of stye ointment. $8.99 - WHOA, what's in that stuff? I wondered. So I flipped it over to have a look.

Active ingredients: petroleum jelly and mineral oil

WHAT! I could spend two dollars on a jar of vaseline and a bottle of mineral oil and have enough stuff on hand to produce a million of these tiny tubes and they are going to charge me 9 bucks for one? No way. Not that I'd use it anyway after reading the ingredients. We don't use petroleum products but that's another blog.

So I came home and dug out Brandy-dog's eye ointment and checked the ingredients. Medicine. And an antibiotic. Ah yeah. And it's half the price of the fuel pumped stye cream too...go figure. I read the little information brochure just to make sure but indications were given for both humans and canines so in my eyeball it went. Burns like hell fire. I realize in a few minutes that my eye feels much better, but I have to keep it closed to keep that fire smothered. Hence the huge bandage. Last night was the second treatment with the ointment and the swelling has gone way down and it isn't nearly as sore - as long as I keep my eye closed, that is. At this rate, I should be all better within a couple of days. A huge feat considering that my eyes do this often and ones this bad usually have to have a scalpel taken to them (and it's not pretty having to watch your eyelid be punched by a small sharp knife - it's hard to hold still in spite of knowing you have to, and no, the numbing drops numb the eyeball but apparently doesn't make it to the place they actually do the cutting. It hurts). I'm willing to try doggie meds to avoid it. The itchthamol ointment didn't work, but it isn't for eyes (great for burns and splinters though) so I'm hoping this will. Will report findings to the human and animal medical community (my doc and my vet).

In other news, we have gnats. I'm not sure what they are after. I've gone through all the cabinets and food places, cleaned sink drains, bleached every surface and still they swarm. Not anything in particular, they're just here. All over the place. maybe they are just looking for someplace warm and dry to sleep. If it would get cold enough I'd leave the windows open and freeze the buggers out, but it hasn't yet. It's pretty chilly this morning but not cold. Far from it. I don't know why we ended up with them but they are insisting they don't want to go away. If I could leave the house I'd go stock up on battle gear for gnat war, but I can't. I'm under house arrest again. Jake now has the chicken pox.

Welcome to the house of the afflicted. (insert Vincent Price laugh here)

Two eyes are definitely better than one

Definitely. I woke up this morning with my eye swollen and icked shut. I'm not sure where the ick is coming from but logic tells me that if the ick is running out of my eye, the swelling should be going down. Not the case. It's getting bigger and now the swelling extends far to the left of my eye and over to my temple. Being that I'm not too big on the idea of going to the doctor to have the thing lanced (done that before it's scary) I took matters into my own hands and I've closed my eye tight and put itchthamol ointment around it, put a patch over it and taped it shut. Itchthamol is a drawing cream. Darn good for treating burns, getting deep splinters to rise to the surface, and keep demons away (the stuff smells horrible). I'm not sure it should be used near the eye. It might cause my eyeball to pop right out of the socket but at this point, I'm willing to risk it.

I didn't sleep well last night. My husband said that he found me in a cold sweat when he came to bed last night, shivering and buried deep under the covers. I don't really remember anything except not resting. Maybe I'm coming down with something. Would be par for the course in this house thesedays. I wonder why it seems to come in these huge waves? We don't even tend to have the same problems going on (with the exception of the chicken pox) but it seems everybody's got something.

The time changed last night and I woke up at 6am on the dot. This might be pretty cool if it gets me up in time to get the girls off to school and doesn't feel like my butt is dragging because my body is thinking it got to sleep until 7 (that's the time it wants to sleep to when I have to wake up at 6). I know it will only be good for a few days until I adjust but I'll be glad to not have to fight to wake myself up come tomorrow morning. I like that my computer changes the time automatically for me. That means I get up with a reference point for the correct time. Lots of clocks to change today, and batteries to put in the smoke detectors. Wonder what climbing up on a step ladder will be like with only one eye? Scary thought. It isn't like not being able to see. It's not even like only seeing half of things but for some reason, even though my vision in the other eye is perfect, I just can't see as good. I went to pour my coffee into the cup this morning and missed the cup...poured it right over the back side of it and onto the counter. Weird. I may put some more time in on the basement today. I like that it's coming together like it is. I have a feeling that once I'm done with arranging the workshop side, there will be a massive cleaning out of the storage side. What a pain but I'd sure love to see it get empty and clean. I've been working on the basement for years though and I'm still at the place I'm at now. I don't know if it makes much sense to hold out for clean. For some odd reason I still hold out hope though.

No real blog tonight. My left eye is swollen nearly shut (must be a stye or something equally icky) and Jake now has the chicken pox. Yay me...

I did spend some time cleaning and organizing my basement workshop today. It won't be long now and I'll be ready to build all kinds of cool stuff down there. I've just about got enough space cleared that I'll feel I can ask my husband for a table saw for Christmas. Wish me luck. I really want one.

Miraculously the house has remained pretty clean in spite of me being off in the nether areas of the house where I can't hear what's going on up here. Must be the chicken pox keeping things under control. Leirin is practically well except for one spot that's trying desperately to get infected and Jake has just plain felt yucky today. He woke up with a temperature and a few more spots. I've gone back and forth over the last couple of days thinking yes he's getting them, well maybe he's not. He'd have spots, then they'd be gone, then they'd be back again. Go figure. But today we are pretty darn sure. Gonna make a trip to the doctors just to be double sure.

Emily went to work with her dad this morning in hopes of causing him to HAVE to make his day a short one (and wanting to avoid being stuck at home with the sicko's) and after work he took her to have her eyes checked. Turns out she's nearsighted and had to get glasses. Up close her eyes were fine but on the far away test (don't know what it's called) she couldn't see squat. I can't wait to see what glasses she chose. Doug says they are smart looking and she is cute in them. Emily called them "intelligent glasses". Bless her heart. I never knew. She reads and sees just fine close up. I had no idea she was blind far away. We have it fixed though and maybe now she will understand what she should be seeing and can tell us if it isn't right. Makes me feel guilty though.

Doug and Jacob love to play a game called Morrowind. Last night Doug was playing and he left all of their weapons behind in a cave somewhere and they were lost. Jake told me about it first thing this morning even through his feverish daze. When Doug got home from work today he found a note taped to Jacob's closed bedroom door. "Dad you levt the wepns do not km in you cant play". I thought Doug would laugh himself to death standing there in the hallway. He apologized to Jake and explained that after Jake had gone to sleep he managed to find all the weapons and get them back. All is forgiven and they are playing now. We're planning on keeping that note.

Ok my eye hurts I'm going to pluck it out or something.

I've said before that days like this are made just for me. Well, I still believe it. I stepped outside at 6:15 this morning to put the garbage in the can and I had to stop and spin around in the perfect stillness of the morning. With nearly all of the porch lights in the neighborhood off, I could see through the breaks in low lying clouds, STARS! Millions and bazillions of stars. Big bright and twinkling, a big wink from the heavens just for me. It had to be. I was the only one out there. The air is the kind of cool that it takes a little while to realize it's actually nippy and that if you're going to stand out there in your pajamas for any amount of time, you're going to need a warm robe to wrap around you. The holly tree, whatever kind it is that blooms with a scent that if bottled would cost hundreds of dollars an ounce, is still intoxicating. It's going to be a good day - no matter what. Like the first batch of homemade ice cream in the spring, a really cold beer after hard work in the summer's heat, like baby's tiny, wrinkled feet...perfect, and worth waiting for.

Perfect morning. Another one. Just for me.

This weekend the time will change and dark will come before dinner. I'm not too crazy about that until it moves to a little bit later. Every year it is a shock to my system. It makes me sleepy long before 11:00 and I feel like I'm eating a too late dinner every day. It seems to have the same effect on the kids too, and that's not a bad thing. It's really difficult to get them in bed at a decent hour in the spring when time changes again because "It can't be bedtime! It's still daylight!" so in that respect, at least, it's helpful. But evenings feel rushed when dark will come before homework is finished. It is a big adjustment. It happens every year so you'd think I would be used to it by now, but it manages to mess up my internal clock every time.

It also moves me into holiday mode. It's after the time change that I seriously consider decorations, holiday gifts, where I'll put the tree, and every time I try to fool myself into thinking I'll make this miraculous shift and suddenly become Betty Crocker and I'll bake something. Lots of things. I'm not sure why, but around this time every year I find myself browsing Wal-Mart for things we need and I'll suddenly be standing in front of a display, considering which cookie cutters I'd like to have, if It's possible for kids to actually overdose on sprinkles and where I would store all that flour. For the most part, I manage to resist, though I do have quite a few holiday cookie cutters in my collection (the kids use them to shape play doh - I'm no baker). I'd like to be more holiday baker-ly, but I've tried it, and it's not a good thing. I've learned to live with the urges that strike me while shopping, give in to a select few, and move on.

This year I'm thinking we may not even have a tree. I thought we might enjoy greenery throughout the house instead (considering that with the livingroom re-do we have no place left to put a tree) There is one corner that if I moved the hutch, a tree would fit, but I'm not sure I want one. I'm not sure I like sacrificing a tree every year for a season. Oh I love Christmas trees. They smell good, they give life and energy to a room, but then the cats and dogs drink all the water from the holding tank faster than I can refill it and it dies at an astonishing rate. They pluck decorations from lower hanging branches, get tangled up in lights while trying to climb to the top, and on a couple of occasions have turned it over more than a few times during the season. Then there are needles of the pine kind. They may smell yummy but one in the foot can be a real pain. Makes for a lot of vacuuming.

Who am I kidding? We'll have a tree. Probably a great big huge one too. They do tend to pose a certain amount of problems though that it's evident I don't look forward to because like the cookie cutters and sprinkles, I go through this phase every year too. I just have this guilt thing about Christmas trees. Tis the season for good people to become holiday mafia. "Hey fella...here's 60 bucks. I want you to take that tree down for me. Yeah, that one right there. But I want you to do it right. I'm looking for a slow death, one that will last through New Year's."

Ok, so I'm a little weird. I've never denied it. ;)

Leirin is finally getting better. Yesterday she actually seemed to have energy. She laughed and joked, and she moved around more so she must be getting over the itchies. My husband hired a new cook yesterday and I am hopeful he will get some time at home in the near future. It never lasts long before he goes back to working doubles six days a week, but every time a new cook walks into that kitchen, I find myself hopeful all over again. We'll see.

And now it's time for school to begin so I should get moving. I want to have time to move a little slower through this last school day. Jake and I have a lot to accomplish but Fridays shouldn't feel like Mondays. That would just be wrong.

It's been a very busy weekend that carried over through today. Today is my husband's birthday and he took a day off. The first day off (minus a one week vacation) in two years and boy it threw off my schedule. Top it off with Leirin still being home with the chicken pox and well, I haven't accomplished much today. Yesterday though, yesterday I was a working hard mad-woman. I cleaned up and cut the front yard, the drive and the back yard. I sprayed devil vine and periwinkle that threatens to roll over our house one of these days and eat us all alive. I sprayed poison ivy. I planted a couple of flowers that I didn't want to have to bring inside. I can't keep them outside where the gods send rain. I surely can't do it indoors. Yes, I'm that bad. My husband buys me new plants and never fails to say something like "I figured for 2.97 I could let you kill this one too." Mean old bugger, he is. Besides, what I don't kill becomes dog food quickly so what's the use?

I was mad at the husband yesterday because in the midst of my hard working stint, I came inside to find him (still) piled up on the couch in the bedroom watching football. He was in dire need of rest after the morning spent playing Morrowind, of course. So I'm on my way through to the bathroom, I'm dripping sweat (was the hottest 75 degrees I've ever seen), covered in grass pieces, muddy on my face from wiping my nose without remembering to wipe my hand, and seeing him sprawled on the couch, leaning back on a big cushy pillow just burnt my butt (for some strange reason). I asked if he planned to do anything to make himself useful today and he said "YEAH" (whiney, insulted, kid-like tone). About 20 minutes later he shows up outside, goes to the store for a gallon of gas for the weed eater I was trying to reconnect the gas lines on (it leaked...back to the drawing board) and cuts a spot at the end of the drive with the (self-propelled) lawnmower that is about, oh, 8x10 MAYBE. I turn around from trimming up the camelias and poof, he's no longer with us. Take a quick guess where he was found...

HELLO! I need a man! Seems if he's not going to be one around here he could let me have one but NOOOOOO. Ok, so maybe I'm still just a tad bitter about it today. I'll get over it. At some point.

We've had a good day together in spite of it. Leirin is feeling a little bit better except there is no way she will be ready to go back to school by Wednesday. She's only just begun to bust and crust. It's just not going to happen that fast so tomorrow I have to call the doctor and get her excuse extended. Joy. Emily woke up with a headache this morning and had me worried about the pox. Luckily, it went away. Whew. Turns out there are several kids at Leirin's school with them and the school people are just as shocked as I was when Leirin got them. Seems to me that if you can get the chicken pox after having the shot they shouldn't say it will keep you from getting the chicken pox when they give you the shot. Who trains these people or do they really have their information wrong.

Was reading an interesting article today at refdesk. It seems that the male species is on the fast track for extinction and guess what's doing it? Their own Y chromosome. Let me see if I can find the link...found it, here it is... Wouldn't you know it though, in wiping themselves out, they will be taking all of the human race with them. It would appear that women only have a couple hundred thousand years to learn to reproduce on their own. Why not? We already have to mow the lawn and take out the trash. At least, I do. (yep, still bitter).

In other news, I'm a little bit worried about our black lab Gimli. He's almost 6 months old and goes in to be neutered this week. Thank goodness or I'd have to make him an appointment. He's been sleeping in his crate for the last hour and a half and every so often he will wake himself up panting like he's been running a race. His gums are pink and he seems normal except that he stinks to high heaven for some unknown reason - which I suspect has something to do with wading in the pond out back, but it worries me a bit still. So in the morning I have to call the doc for Leirin's excuse and the vet for my sweet puppy dog.

And here it is nearly 10:00 and I have yet to mop the kitchen. I really needed to do that too. We have a lemonade spill spot that no matter how many times I've tried wiping it up and washing over it, it remains sticky enough to stop you in your tracks as you try to walk across the floor. What is that stuff made of? Gonna have to read the Country Time label and see if it says something like Emlersgluetoparabin in the ingredients list.

Ah well, tomorrow's another day and I get to do it all again. I think I may give hubby a break though. It is his birthday after all :)

My daughter Leirin has always amazed me. At 12 she knows what her life's purpose is and she's making plans to get on with it. If she is going to be a vet and own a horse farm where she can run a breeding program and photograph horses whenever she wants she figured she should have an early start. She gets straight A's in school. Has more common sense than many adults I know and and she is forever doing things that surprise and amaze me.

Like today...she got the chicken pox. This after having had a mild case of them at age two and being vaccinated against the pox 3 years ago. She knows how to do it up right too - she's got them awful bad, they're even in her mouth (poor baby) and still she will say she don't feel bad even though she can hardly stay awake because she's so tired.

She takes the impossible and makes it something routine for her. No wonder I love that girl.

Follow the leader, I guess. It looked like fun...

A - Act your age - Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't.

B - Boyfriend? - No, the husband won't let me have one :( I asked for one (a gay one so I'd have someone to shop with and help pick out paint colors) but he just laughed.

C - Chore you hate? - I'm surprised by how many people have put dishes. Mine is laundry. Stuff's as hard to get rid of as roaches. And ironing too, but since I usually leave clothes in the ironing basket until they're outgrown or out of style it's not THAT big of a problem.

D - Dad's name - Calvin

E - Essential make up item - Lip stick, or I should say lip stuff since it's not about the color. I don't do chapstick though. Waxy lips just don't cut it.

F - Favorite artist - Too many to name. In my house I have cd's with ozzy, the monkeys, Nine inch nails, Doris Day, and Louis Armstrong. If it's ever been good, I'll listen to it.

G - Gold or silver - What? No choice for platinum? I wear both, actually. Lots more silver though since it's cheap.

H - Hometown - Six Mile where the air is clean, dogs bark and cows moo, and a breeze brings the scent of green (or brown at this time of year). Where you're very likely to see an entire field covered in morning glories and get a stray bear in the garden on occasion. Sigh...I want to go home.

I - Instruments you play - I can play Mary had a little lamb on the recorder.

J - Job titles - bookeeper, doctor (kids and animals), soap maker, floor layer, builder, mom, wife, me (but only occasionally)

K - Kids - 3 of them. Two girls and a boy. 6 dogs and 8 cats. And a hubby.

L - Living arrangements - Hubby, kids, animals and I. We live in a house that gets smaller every day. It's constantly morphing into something else so it will work better for us. It was a student rental for years and years and I'm still repairing damage.

M - Mom's name - Elaine

N - Number of people you've slept with - Hehehe. Yeah, right.

O - Overnight hospital stays - Three births, laproscopy and hystorectomy. In that order.

P - Phobia - Something happening to one of my kids.

Q - Quote you like - only one?

My goal in life is to be as good of a person my dog already thinks I am.
--Unknown

Cherish your visions and your dreams as they are the children of your soul; the blueprints of your ultimate achievements.
--Napoleon Hill

R - Religious affiliation - Pagan

S - Siblings - One brother. John Smith...you know him, he's the guy on all the caller id phone stickers.

T - Time you wake up? - The first time? 6am

U - Unique habit - I collect animals that nobody else loves.

V - Vegetable you refuse to eat - Spaghetti squash. There's all kinds of stuff I refuse to eat. If it looks weird, if it ever looked weird, or if it has "tracks" at the end of it's name, I won't eat it.

W - Worst habit - having no confidence.

X - X-rays you've had - A lot

Y - Yummy food you make - fried chicken and homemade milk gravy (it's a southern thang) and biscuits...though I can only make 9. More than 9 requires a whole 'nother batch of dough.

Z - Zodiac Sign - Libra

Omens?

Walk up in my yard and you'll be treated to the best Halloween decorations around. Leaves litter the ground and spider webs hang eerily from just about every place a web can be attached to. Is a pretty cool look for this time of year. But I didn't do it. -they are all real.

From somewhere under the gutters to the side of the house are huge spider webs, each one housing a spider of the large variety with huge furry back ends and legs as long as mine (never mind that I am short legged). Is a good look for the month and took no effort on my part and since normally we don't mess with spiders because they eat the bugs that tend to want to eat us, we're ok with them, but I'm not sure what's attracted so many this year. There are many writing spiders. Their huge, artistic webs full of scribbles only they understand - much like my notebook.

Each morning the kids open the door slowly - that lesson learned when my husband went to run out the door one morning and met a large and viscious looking spider hanging center of the door. We have to keep those cleared out with the broom. And this morning I had to kill a black widow that had decided to lend it's decorating talents to the mix and had positioned it's web in the corner of our front doorway. Black Widows and brown recluse we can do without and have more than our share of already so one by one, as we find them, we take them out. It was quick and painless with only a minimal amount of squealing involved. The girls will swear it was me but it was the spider screaming in the throes of death.

Maybe they are here to show exactly how far behind I am with yard work. Maybe they have come because I'm running short on time for decorating for the season. Maybe they've come to offer inspiration as I attempt (somewhat lamely) to spin my own web of words since I signed up for nano and have been thinking I'm completely insane to even attempt it. Who knows? I'm quite sure what I end up with from my writing attempts will be a closer representation of the spooky associations of this time of year than the intricate beauty of the spiders' webs, I'm taking the theory and running with it. Since I'm a person with leanings toward the fantastic and magical (and I'm severely short on time thesedays), I'll take the omen option. It would be bad luck to sweep down the webs and displace all those spiders.

My Brother

My brother is my best friend. I don't get to talk to him as much as I'd like anymore, and sometimes I'm amazed at how long we have to go between visits, but he's still my buddy. It wasn't always like that. As children, we were mortal enemies. Not always that bad, but close most of the time. I didn't like to pla Barbies with him because he would always make Ken fly up to the 3rd floor instead of using the Barbie Townhouse elevator. When we pinned towels around our necks to play Shazaam and Isis (I was Isis), as soon as I lifted my arms and did the "lift me now so I can fly" line, John would push me off the porch. He wrote his name on my imagination.

Guess I should explain that one because if I haven't wrote about that before I know at least Linda will be wondering, "HUH?". Ok, so here it is. When I was little, just learning how to talk, we were in the grocery store one time. This was many moons ago when there was still such a thing as dime stores and penny candy, and grocery stores stocked toys on the top of each aisle. I'd point to the little cloth doll and whine because I couldn't talk much yet. And as the little doll was quite expensive, my daddy would tell me I didn't really want that, it was just my imagination. He'd turn it into a game, and before you know it, I had forgot all about that little doll. But I would remember her the very next trip to the store, and again he'd tell me the same thing. Before too long I learned to talk and as soon as we walked in the door of the grocery store I'd start asking for my imagination. My dad and my mom had no clue what I was talking about. After (according to my dad) a LONG time of asking for my imagination, my dad decided that whatever my imagination was, I was going to have it. The next time we went to the grocery store and I started asking for it right inside the door, he let my mom go off to collect our groceries and he carried me through the entire store, down every aisle, pointing to every single thing, and he asked me "Is this your imagination?" We found the doll that day and I brought her home.

My imagination was my favorite thing in the world. One day John got mad at me for something and we had a big fight. I walked into the bedroom we shared together (I think I was probably in the 3rd grade at that time) and I caught him writing his name in magic marker across her face. To this day, on her forhead it says J-O-H. And yes, I still have her. She's 34 years old now, or close to it anyway. We do still call her my imagination. I have no idea what her name was originally. But I'm way off track...

We were normal kids I guess. John loved He-Man and G. I. Joe. I liked to play with dolls and Barbies. We went to different schools through high school, so I never saw him in the halls, and didn't hang out with him on weekends or anything. We saw each other at home and that was it. We had stopped being enemies some time around 9th grade I think (that was the last year we were in the same school) but we didn't become friends until I became pregnant with Leirin. I lived at home because I lost my job when I got pregnant because I couldn't work with the chemicals, and he was the person I hung out with most. We would shop for baby things together. He had a knack for picking out adorable boy clothes (and we were convinced I was having a boy for some reason) and every pack of diapers I bought, he would take one out and smell it. We would go to lunch together occasionally so I wouldn't be stuck in the house so much.

We had so much fun together. He was with me for doctors appointments. He was the first to hear each of my babies heartbeats (besides myself) and he went with me to every ultrasound appointment I've ever been scheduled for. My best friend. We lived out in the country - a place I really wish I could go back to. Behind my dads house was a large, open field then a big patch of woods. Rats had become a problem for the dogs. Eating their food, biting the dogs...it was getting bad so we came up with a plan. Being of the redneck type, of course it involved a gun (and poison gas) ;)

The back yard was riddled with holes the rats used to come and go underground. We would find them when we were out back trying to figure out a way to protect the dogs from the rats. We decided to launch an attack on the rats ourselves so we gathered up a supply of clorox and ammonia, a small rifle, and we went to work. Since I was pregnant I mostly stood and watched. We would pour a bit of bleach into the hole we found first, then add a bit of ammonia. We'd plug the hole immediately so they wouldn't come running back out at us. The gas would form a deadly white vapor cloud and all over the yard we would see it rising from other exits to the tunnel system. As the rats would run from the holes to escape, John would shoot them with the rifle. There were hundreds of them. HUGE field rats, bigger than many of our cats came running desperately from the gas filled tunnels and he'd knock them off, one by one. Redneck entertainment at it's best.

When Leirin was born, he was with me. Not during labor and delivery, but he stayed at the hospital from the time I went until it was over. When I came home he was a willing (and most excellent) babysitter. When he was laid off from his job after downsizing and he was home for a while spending his days going to school, looking for work and watching talk shows, he would call me up to tell me about the good ones. Ring, ring... "Hello." I'd say and John would practically squeal "Are you watching Sally? This woman just pissed me off!" He is my favorite person to discuss politics and religion with. He's a likable person. Just ask anyone.

He has always made time for me and my kids. Even after he married, when he would have days off work we would make plans to go out together. When I was car shopping, he would come along for test drives. When there was holiday shopping to be done, he was with me. When kids needed to go to the doctor and he didn't have to be at work, he went too. Now John has his own little boy and I'm so glad because he is a great dad. We don't get to see each other as often as we used to and our rat hunting days are behind us, but he is still my best friend.

Good grief the week passed by so fast. I didn't realize it has been 5 days since I last blogged. I haven't been keeping up with reading them either. And that's very unusual because I love my blog reading with coffee in the morning. It's been that kind of week though. A bazillion things to do and only half that time to do it in. Ye old house is coming together pretty good. If only Gimli (the lab puppy) would stop managing to find napkins, rolls of toilet paper, boxes and plastic bags to rip apart, my floors might actually stay clean. Not for long, mind you, but longer than they look clean with chunks of paper all over them. It's like we had a shredder disaster or something.

Tonight I went to the grocery store and saved 58.00 on almost 140.00 worth of stuff. Granted I bought no meats, so that don't make me the kind of bargain shopper my husband is, but saving 58.00 for me is a big deal. I'm lucky to walk out of the grocery without spending way over 150.00 and we still have trouble finding stuff to eat. How do we do that?

In other news. Yesterday was Leirin's 12th birthday. My baby is growing up. So here comes my yearly sentimental rambling about my first born. Consider yourself warned. All my life I had wanted to get married and have babies. I was 23 years old when she was born. Not married either, but that's never bothered me. Griped a few of my family members though. She was born on a Thursday morning at 3am. I don't remember too much about labor except for wanting to stop and go home. I'd been given demerol long before I needed anything for pain and since I'm super sensitive to it, it drove me completely insane. I've since had one child completely natural and one with an epidural. While I liked having a chance to nap right through contractions with the epi, and I'm slightly ashamed at having begged, at one point, for so much as a tylenol to help with the pain of the natural birth, it was by far the easiest on my body overall.

But that's not what this is about. Leirin, the first thing in the world to ever belong only to me. That's what this is about. And how much I love her.

My mom was with me during labor and delivery. We hadn't got to take any lamaze classes. Actually they didn't offer them to us. I think at that time it was probably only something that an actual couple was privileged enough to have access to. But she was there, ready to help. She was mighty cute in her green scrubs and poofy surgical cap. I can remember how she would talk to me when the demerol was really wigging me out, and when I I started to feel a lot of pain she didn't know how to tell me to breathe, but she did her best to keep me focused on anything but the pain. And when it had subsided, she'd do what I'm pretty sure all good moms do when they watch their children suffer through something they can do nothing to stop. She'd go throw up. I love my mom.

I was in labor for 9 hours total before I went to the delivery room. Leirin came so quickly the nurse had to deliver her. Of course the doctor still collected the fee, I'm quite sure. But he was a no show. She was supposed to be a boy. Thomas Adam Smith I think was the name I had picked. I'm not sure anymore. It might have been Michael something. I do remember however that the only outfit I had packed for bringing the baby home from the hospital in was a boys striped baseball outfit with matching teenie tiny tube socks (my mom was sweet enough to go buy me a supply of frilly dresses). My brother had told me I was going to have a boy. We were convinced of it and why I listened to him I have no clue because he was just as ignorant as I was, but I believed it. When Leirin was born the nurse looked up at me and smiling said "You have a little girl." "Is he alright?" I asked. DUH

I blame it on the drugs.

I didn't get to see Leirin for a while after she was born. Her lungs were full of fluid and the respiratory therapist had to work with her for a while to get her breathing right. He got her fixed up pretty quick though and they finally brought her over to see me just as I was getting ready to be wheeled to recovery. (This was back in the day when labor was done in one butt ugly sterile metal and white room, delivery was in yet another room much the same and recovery was pretty much like being parallel parked behind a curtain just outside the hallway.)

She was wrapped in a blanket and there was a little pink and white striped stocking cap on her little cone-shaped head. Her skin, at first so blue, was now glowing pink and she stared at me with eyes so deep brown they looked almost black. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Five tiny little fingers curled around mine and held on almost as tightly as I wanted to hold on to her. She snuggled her head close to my chest contentedly. I can remember my mom standing beside me crying. That's what my mom does, and as inherited traits tend to go that way, it's what I do to. Only I was too amazed to cry just yet. I was still in shock, and the drugs were still in control. I probably couldn't have fallen without assistance at that point.

I was a mommy.

My brother, bless his heart, had slept underneath a chair in the waiting room all night long. He was to start a new job the next morning (wouldn't you know it...unemployed all freaking summer and the day he gets a job I go into labor) but he wasn't going to leave me - not for a minute. And he didn't. When work was over that day, the hospital was his first stop on the way home. I really love my brother. Many times throughout the years since he's been just as devoted. He's been at the hospital when each of my children were born. Always dependable. I really have to write about him sometime. Maybe I can do that tomorrow.

Leirin spent the day napping with me in my room. She never made a sound except when she needed fed or changed. Every nurse said she was the most beautiful baby they thought they'd ever seen. I had thought they must say that to everybody, but I can't say now how many times we were stopped by people wanting to admire her and tell me the same thing. I was so proud of her. I couldn't believe I did that.

For such a long time she was my best friend. The person I spent all my time with. I could tell her anything and she'd listen quietly. Sometimes she'd make me laugh so hard I'd feel silly. I had never loved anyone so much. She brought to life the meaning of the words my mama always told me. "One day you'll have a little girl or boy of your own and you'll understand." She was right. Everything my mom ever refused to let me do. Every worry she ever had, even the unreasonable ones. Every bit of protectiveness...now I knew why.

Leirin is still quite beautiful. Her hair is long, the color of rich coffee, and wavy. She still has those large, gloriously beautiful eyes and long lashes. She will still listen to my stories sometimes when I can catch her sitting still somewhere. She makes me laugh hysterically on occasion. She's growing up though. Doing her own thing. Learning to be her own person - making plans for her life. She amazes me. And I still can't believe I did that.