I have a cousin whose daughter is just beautiful - actually there are two daughters, and both are quite beautiful - but when I saw that this was posted on Facebook I thought, I have to share this. It's just a stunning photo.
Yesterday reminded me of exactly why I hate being sick, or at least not 100%, and the upside is that my attitude has been adjusted.
I really prefer to pretty much ignore my body, unless I am hungry, thirsty, or needing the potty - well, you get the picture. Yesterday I was reminded that the body has an expiration date and I need to actually pay more attention to it.
Although everyone at the hospital was very kind, and they obviously are very competent, I thought to myself more than once, I don't like hospitals and I really don't want to come back here. I need to eat better and get more exercise.
Of course, the last time I spent much time in a hospital was in February 2011 when my mom had to get an emergency pacemaker. That was an ordeal for all of us.
I am lucky that my brother is always available to come over and help out. He can drive the car, cook meals, supervise schoolwork, etc. as well or better than I can. We had a shining example, growing up, because Dad could do almost everything Mom could do. He could [and often did] fix meals, check homework, supervise trips to the store, etc. He wasn't hung up on strictly adhering to the 1960's "Dad code" of letting mama do it all. He really helped. I think that's why they had a strong marriage and Bruce and I felt pretty secure.
Michael has a good example in Uncle Bruce of how a man should be. Tough, but loving and kind. They aren't contradictions. Michael can fix an omelet or fix his own bicycle, and he does his own laundry and puts it away. He's also very good with kids, and he has good manners.
Last night Bruce taught him how to sharpen knives the old-fashioned way, with a stone.
At 9 last night we were watching a DVD and I glanced over at Michael and he was sound asleep, on the couch. He had been very casual about me not feeling well, but his fatigue told me he didn't sleep well night before last.
My brother and I disagree and fuss sometimes, like all siblings. However, I know he always has my back, and I have his. If I do nothing else, if I can show my son how good families operate - pulling together during tough times - I will be happy.
Well, getting up at 3:30 in the morning is not something I would recommend to anyone, but I survived. I checked email, took a shower, chatted with Brother, and we headed for the hospital.
There was NO traffic at 5 in the morning. What a shock. LOL
The worst part of the whole ordeal was not being able to drink water or tea. I normally drink tea in the morning and water the rest of the day. I am a well-hydrated person.
The procedure lasted about 30 minutes and then they took me to recovery. It seemed like they hadn't started it yet. You know that weird feeling of losing time when you're under anesthesia? It's very creepy.
The only really uncomfortable part of the whole deal was the stupid blood pressure cuff. However the reading was normal.
The doctor sent stuff off to pathology and there's a delay of finding out what's up - probably Friday or Monday.
Other than being a bit sleepy, I am fine. More later.
Wow, what an awful morning I had. Had to be at the hospital at 8 in the a.m. - an hour which I am normally drinking tea and leisurely perusing my breakfast choices, patting the dog, walking outside, etc. This morning I had to shower, dress, eat a quick breakfast, kiss Michael goodbye, and jump in the car.
Used to be, you'd have to check into the hospital the night before a procedure. Not any more. However, I had to go to my pre-procedure hospital visit and fill out forms, pee in a cup, sign things, give blood, and have an EKG. Doesn't sound bad, does it?
Honey, it was no picnic.
It took FOUR HOURS and I forgot to take a book. I had to read old copies of Sports Illustrated and Family Circle. I don't like to even touch anything in any hospital because I am a junior level germaphobe [thanks to my mother and grandmother] but I didn't sleep well last night, and I was afraid if I didn't read I'd fall sound asleep.I had to keep dashing into the bathroom to wash my hands.
I also learned that my crappy insurance isn't paying for a large chunk of this. I may have to make a cardboard sign and go pester people at intersections.
So everything is set for tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it about as much as a root canal.
At least during my last surgery [wisdom teeth pulled in 2000] I was promised milkshakes and ice cream afterwards. And the surgery before that I got ice cream - of course I was 10 and it was a tonsillectomy.
Now I am 50 and my body is reminding me it has an expiration date. Ugh.
I still want the ice cream.
I should be home before lunch. I intend to set up camp on the downstairs sofa and watch chick flicks and snooze all afternoon, and maybe my brother will go get me a milkshake. I can hope.
Anyway, here's a funny from Maxine, if you want a laugh:
we progress into 2013, I want to thank you all for your educational
e-mails over the past year. I am totally screwed up now and have little
chance of recovery.
can no longer open a bathroom door without using a paper towel, nor let
the waitress put lemon slices in my ice water without worrying about
the bacteria on the lemon peel.
I can't sit down on a hotel bedspread because I can only imagine what has happened on it since it was last washed.
have trouble shaking hands with someone who has been driving because
the number one pastime while driving alone is picking one's nose.
a little snack sends me on a guilt trip because I can only imagine how
many gallons of trans-fats I have consumed over the years.
I can't touch any woman's handbag for fear she has placed it on the floor of a public toilet.
I must send my special thanks for the email about
rat poo in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet sponge
with every envelope that needs sealing.
ALSO, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.
I can't have a drink in a bar because I fear I'll wake up in a bathtub full of ice with my kidneys gone.
I can't eat at KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes, feet or feathers.
I can't 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 e-mail 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 buy
fuel without taking someone along to watch the car, so a serial killer
doesn't crawl in my back seat when I'm filling up.
I no longer use Cling Wrap in the microwave because it causes seven different types of cancer.
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 go to the cinema because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS when I sit down.
I no longer go to shopping centers because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.
I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a
number for which I will get a huge phone bill with calls to Jamaica,
Uganda, Singapore and Uzbekistan.
to you I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big black snake
could be lurking under the seat and cause me instant death when it bites
thanks to your great advice I can't ever pick up a dime coin dropped
in the car park because it was probably placed there by a sex molester
waiting to grab me as I bend over.
I can't do any gardening because I'm afraid I'll get bitten by the Violin Spider and my hand will fall off.
you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70
minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 p.m.
tomorrow afternoon, and the fleas from 120 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 neighbors
ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's best friend's beautician!
Oh, and by the way...
German scientist from Argentina, after a lengthy study, has discovered
that people with insufficient brain activity read their e-mails with
their hand on the mouse.
Don't bother taking it off now, it's too late.
I now keep my toothbrush in the living room, because I was told by
e-mail that water splashes over 6 ft. out of the toilet.
Memorial Day is the only national holiday I am aware of that is about remembering, although I suppose you could argue the same is true of Veterans Day.
After dinner last night, Mother told me some stories about my great uncle Jake Henderson.He was the brother of my grandmother, Cordelia Henderson Thompson.
I think I have heard every family story and that's it, there are no more.... and then Mom tells me a new one.
I don't have any photos of Jake. He was very tall and thin.
He was an integral part of the family before I was about 8 years old, and he then died. Jake came over every Christmas and helped us untangle and put the lights on the Christmas tree. He was my great uncle, but more like a grandfather to me. He always brought me little presents I asked Mother last night if he was liked by my grandfather Thompson, who was Jake's brother in law.
Mother didn't have to think long. "No, Thompson just sort of tolerated him," was her reply.
Jake was "bad to drink." He was a binge drinker.
I learned that in World War I Jake had been gassed. The horror of that experience probably contributed to his being an alcoholic. He never had children, although he was married once, briefly.
Jake was a very kind person, however, and very funny.
One time he called his sister [my grandmother Cordelia] and said that he was coming over and bringing all the food for Thanksgiving dinner, and she should get all the family gathered. She got some of their siblings and a feast was prepared, courtesy of Jake.That was probably in the 1930's or 40's.
A week or so later, Grandaddy Thompson got the bill from the store for all the food. Jake had charged it all to him.
Skip ahead to the 1960's. Jake liked to come to our house and bring a huge bundle of collard greens, and get Mother to cook them for him. He had worked in grocery stores for years and was very knowledgeable about food.
One time we took Jake to Atlanta for a baseball game - this was another story Mom told last night. I was around 6. Jake was impressed by the fact that he was related [through Dad's marrying Mom] to a professional baseball player [my grandfather Bob Hasty]. Jake's stomach was not in good shape, so Mamaw made all sorts of foods like rice, and pureed veggies and such, so Jake could have a good lunch that would be easy on his stomach. Then the entire family went to watch the Braves play.
Jake saw a hotdog vendor at the stadium and proceeded to eat several hot dogs. He didn't get sick. The grownups thought Jake's hotdog eating was funny.
When we got in the car later to drive back to Augusta, Mom said I pitched a fit. I wanted to stay in Atlanta with my grandparents. Jake said "Dee, if you will hush up I will give you $5." I got quiet immediately. Then Bruce started squalling. He was offered $ to hush up, too.
Mom and Dad and Mamaw and Papaw were very amused by Jake's handling of the situation.
One of the last times I saw Jake, he was in the VA hospital in Augusta, and he had asked one of his nurses to go buy me some clothes for my Barbie, pretty dresses. I was thrilled. I climbed in his lap and gave him a kiss. He left us soon after that.
above, the Henderson house which my grandfather Thompson bought in the early 1930's, in Hepzibah, Georgia [just outside Augusta]
above, my uncle Bobby, Grandaddy Thompson, and Aunt Ceph holding baby Frann [Bob's daughter] around 1956 -- this is the bed Michael sleeps in now
I can tell that spring will soon give way to summer because I found South Carolina peaches at the farmstand yesterday, and a friend gave me some vidalia onions. That is how you know it's summer in the deep south.
Just to pick up a peach and inhale the fragrance of it evokes deep memories of childhood.
It's one of my all-time favorite smells, along with freshly ground coffee, clean laundry, rain on hot pavement, and my children's heads.
[If you have children, you understand that last reference.]
I made a batch of brownies and a batch of pumpkin spice muffins yesterday and took them up to the pool, to see how they would go over at the concession stand where Mike was working. Needless to say, the brownies sold quickly. There were muffins left over, but then again I sent 2 dozen. Next time I will try blueberry muffins.
My gardens and pot plants are exploding with new growth. Modest and small as my efforts are, I am still delighted with everything. Below are some photos that show a time progression of growth.
The seedlings above are now thriving in the side garden, below.The square raised garden in the background with tiny plants is now transformed. Scroll down and you will see!
See this corner of the back garden, and the two tiny zucchini plants and the tomato plant in the top left of the picture? Immediately below, a photo I took a month ago, but not from the same angle. Still you can see the amazing growth. Below that are two I made today!
This is the front of my house, and my pot plants. the deep shadows are interesting but made it hard to get a decent shot. I didn't grow any of these from seed, but there are several plants [a gerber daisy, a big geranium, and a huge thing in one of the chairs] that wintered and survived.
None of the plants that survived the winter are blooming, even though I've fertilized them. Not sure what else to do but water and hope...
Below, a small half moon bed in the front of the house. I planted it with all pink and white Dianthus this year [because hey, they were on sale!] and the two perennials at the corners come back every year and I can't think of the name of them to save my life. Grrr...
The two roses are a gift, and I need to figure out where to put them. My brother is coming Tuesday so I am going to wait and let him plant them for me. Michael's allergies are bothering him.
Above, the view of my front straw bed that contains azaleas, roses, camellias, and other flowers.
Oh my, I felt so bad for Michael last night. He had a very busy day yesterday, playing tennis and then working at the LBC pool concession stand.He was really tired by the time he got home last night at 9.
I checked on him last night about 7 and he showed me his horribly burned shoulders. "Next time will you wear sunscreen?!" I said, as I applied cream to his shoulders last night.
He wore sunscreen on his face and it didn't get burned.
Shall we review Sunscreen 101?!?
"Hey, at least I don't have your skin Mom. I will be brown tomorrow. You'd still be in pain." Yes, thank you for gloating over not having my horribly fair skin... Adoption is a lovely thing.
The good news is he now has a real appreciation of working and how tough it is.
I had a sucko afternoon because I spent most of it at the gynecologist's office. I was too nervous to eat lunch, so I found myself eating lunch finally at 3:45. My appointment was for 1:30.
I will skip the gory details of the office visit - the horrible paper gown, the bad piano music overhead, the viciously cold air conditioning.
I have to go in for a "procedure" next Wednesday, a D&C. The bad news is I have to be at the hospital at 5:30 a.m.! The good news is I get to be put to sleep while the work on me, and I get some pain meds in my IV. Yay.
And of course I am hoping the issue is caused by polyps, not cancer cells. If there are cancer cells I will have to have a hysterectomy. Major bummer.
Didn't really eat dinner last night. Didn't feel like eating - way unusual for me. Had some crackers and cheese, and a glass of almond milk.
My friend Paul came over and got some tomato seedlings and pepper seedlings. I always have extra. He brought me a carton of eggs from his chickens - I LOVE fresh eggs!!
We are having lovely cool weather right now - in the 70's today. Should be a nice day for gardening.
the above photo was made by my cousin Mark - wish my yard looked like this!
I love being a mom and I wouldn't trade it for anything, but oftentimes I am floored by the behavior of adopted children.
gotten emails about the beautiful, intelligent daughters of two
different adoptive moms (both moms my friends) and these daughters are
choosing to leave home and "couch surf" and not go to college, not take
responsibility for themselves, not live a normal life.They had traumatic
young childhoods, yes, but those experiences are history. These are
girls who have been in excellent, loving adoptive homes for more than 8
years, both of them, and yet they do not listen when their moms try to
warn them of the consequences of their foolishness.
I almost wish I
could reach out to my daughter and say "Can't you warn them? Can't you
advise them to stay in school and try harder, not go off and party like you did?"
However, she hasn't reached that level of maturity, unfortunately.She
thinks her living situation is just fine. It's so not fine.
When I was 17, I
asked my dad if I could take a year off before starting college, because
I'd been working so hard, going to school, and doing plays my senior
year. He was very angry and said NO, in no uncertain terms. I buckled
under and went to college. I'd not been traumatized, though. I expected
to be successful.
My kids are surprised by success, I have noticed.
I wish there were a manual for how to deal with teens who run from success, and don't listen to their families.
was much rejoicing around here yesterday after Mike got home from his
last day of school. We looked online and his grades were impressive - 1
A, 5 B's, and 1 C. The C was in an elective. He did that without hardly
lifting a finger to study. He does very little homework. He hates
However, this summer he will be 17 years old. I am
trying to cut him some slack, and get off his case about school, because
it doesn't really work with him. The harder I push the more stubbornly
resistant he is. I told him I was proud of him yesterday and bit my
tongue - not adding "IF you'd just STUDY you could make straight A's!!"
has a busy summer ahead. He will be working part time at the pool
concession stand. These first three weeks he will be helping with the
children's tennis camp 4 mornings a week. He is also going to do some
babysitting for a friend of mine.
He told Mother yesterday "I
have three jobs this summer. They're all with kids!" Mother said he was
grinning when he said it. "I like kids," he added.
I think people
who are kind-hearted and very intelligent often recognize that children
are truly fascinating little people. They are works in progress. They
often surprise adults, because they usually have no filters. Michael is
easily bored but he recognizes that children are the ultimate cure for
boredom, particularly bright ones.
Children also take a lof of energy, of course.
saw a figure lying asleep on a lounge chair by the pool last weekend -
sound asleep - and I recognized her as a friend of mine with 4 children,
1 being a baby. If you can nap at a busy pool, you are a tired lady.
are enjoying a beautiful, breezy day today, and I am wishing I could be
lying by the pool. I have a doctor's appointment. Ugh.
I am praying my friends' daughters mature without putting their mamas thru more hell. BTDT and it stinks...
Above you see me when I was 6 years old. Mother had a little luncheon for me and 6 of my friends. Notice how cute all the other little girls are? How they all have on shoes? How none of them look stoned? Now look at me, on the far left, barefoot.
Trying to make me wear shoes in the summer was like trying to herd cats. Of course, Augusta Georgia is semi-tropical and 90-100 degree days are typical in July and August.
I was reminded of what a handfull I was when a friend posted on Facebook that he was driving his son to school and they got there and his son had no shoes on. I think he's a second grader [the son]. He was adopted from Kazakhstan and looks a bit like a tiny Michael, so I love to see the posted photos.
It reminded me of another story.
My parents liked to "go to ride" on Sunday afternoons when I was a kid and we moved to Knoxville. The beautiful Blue Ridge Parkway was nearby. I was never enthusiastic about those drives. For one thing, I was quite nearsighted, which wasn't discovered until I was about 10. So the lovely mountain views were just big blurs, to me. I really couldn't understand what all the fuss was about.
Anyway, one Sunday I was outside rollerskating when they decided to go to ride. I managed to get in the car wearing roller skates without Mom and Dad noticing.
We get up to the Parkway, and Mom needs to stop and use the restroom. I get out of the car and start skating around on the parkway. Mom and Dad were furious. Bruce thought it was funny. I felt very smug until I started going down the mountain at a dizzying rate and fell off a cliff.
Just kidding about the cliff part.
I was a Hot Mess as a kid. Good thing Mom and Dad only had two of us. Another Thompson child would've sent Mom over the edge. Bruce was a Hot Mess too.
I was an expert at cookie stealing by the time I was 8.
I never went to bed and went to sleep, after about the age of 8. I went to bed and read a book, or listened to the radio. I was always popped into bed early - which is probably why my parents stayed married.
When we lived in Knoxville, on Venice Road, my parents would go downstairs to the basement to watch TV every night after dinner, and I would sneak into the kitchen to watch TV. I watched the entire miniseries Roots that way.
I was also an expert at stealing my brother's clothes. I much preferred his clothes to my girly clothes. When he went to college I had a blast, plundering everything in his room.
Before his escape joining the army at age 17, when my brother made me mad, I would do things like dismember GI Joe and flush him down the toilet. One time I glued his desk drawers shut. Another time I cut up his bongo drums so they couldn't be played.
When we were teens, I was annoyed at him and his friend Steve for not coming to dinner when I called, so I attacked them with a golf club and hit Bruce right in the cojones.
As soon as Bruce could stand up again, he tried to kill me.
Dad intervened and saved my life.
As bad as I was at home, I almost never did anything at school.
Except once. I was a freshman at Farragut and I was coming up a stairwell, hurrying to get to class, and I gave the door a kung fu kick to open it. The vice principal was on the other side of the door and saw it. He was showing visitors around the new school. His name was Dr. Scott, but we I referred to him as Dr. Snot. He looked very much like the actor Stanley Tucci. He grabbed my arm and spoke to me like I was a juvenile delinquent on the fast track to hell.
I think he'd had too much coffee that morning.
Or maybe not enough.
One time in high school I decided to find out what it felt like to drive 100 mph. Actually, I wasn't driving, Connie C was driving. We were allowed to leave campus and take the newspaper to Lenoir City, to the printer. On the way back, Connie hit 100. I thought I was going to die, ot vomit. What a thrill.
Ah to be young and stupid again.
Were you a Hot Mess too?! Leave me a comment and tell me the worst thing you ever did.
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