Tuesday, August 29, 2006


Truman Borden was born August 8th at only 23 weeks gestation. He's holding his own. You can read about Truman by clicking on the blinkie. Please say a prayer for Truman and his parents.

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Saturday, August 26, 2006


I took Big Brother to see "How to eat fried worms" at the movies last night. When we walked in, there were only 2 other people in the theater. We chose very good seats and sat to watch the previews. Right before the movies began, a family of 6 comes in. Now, remember, there are probably 100 empty seats in the place. The man of that family chose the seat directly in front of Big Brother. WHAT THE HELL?!?!?! Couldn't he have sat one more row down so that he wasn't blocking my son's view? Couldn't he have sat a few seats over? I get so pissed because people only think of themselves. (Not only was that rude but his cologne stunk and almost made me gag!)

We got up and moved 2 rows down in front of them. I told my son I wish I had a big, bulky hat to put on. I'd wear it through the whole movie.

On the good side, I really enjoyed the movie. I had read the book as a child several times. I read it to Big Brother when he was little and I will read it to Little Brother when he gets a little older. If you haven't read it, even as an adult, I recommend it.

Thursday, August 24, 2006


This is what Little Brother does when you leave him alone in his bouncy seat. He has yet to get out but he sure gives it a good try. I find it funny he was also wearing the jammies that I think make him look like a prisoner.

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Note: See the bottle on the floor? When he's done eating, he throws it on the floor. That's a habit that needs to break!

Wednesday, August 23, 2006


I've begun receiving advertisements in my comments section. I've changed my settings so that no comments will be posted without my knowledge. I'm very sad to have to do this but it annoys me when someone uses my personal space on the web to do their business.



We had a very busy day yesterday. Little Brother had a doctor's appointment for his shots. The poor guy got 4, 2 in each thigh. We had to rush after the doctor's office to Walmart to get a present for my sister's grandbaby's birthday party. We managed to rush in, find a gift, pay and get to the party in time.

We had a nice time at the party. Hayleigh got tons of nice presents. Little Brother ate crackers, pizza bones, and cake. Big Brother downed his pizza in record time so he could race off to spend his $10 on video games (I was surprised he actually only spent $6).

The over-priced salad bar was good but the cardboard-flavored pizza was the same as always.

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Little Brother eating a pizza bone. Chuck E Cheese was coming up behind me so his eyes got huge!

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The party kids: Hayleigh, Tippy, Big Brother, Geno, Roni, and Carisa.

Sunday, August 20, 2006


I had this really neat idea for a change to my blog and just had to go with it. I wasn't thrilled with the last layout and it just plain bugged me. I still have some tweaking to do on the new one but it'll get done sooner or later.

We went to the City Market today and bought some veggies and some Pappardelle's Pasta. If you haven't tried this pasta, do. It's well worth the expense. The weather was beautiful and well worth the trip down there.

Afterwards, we visited my mom and Sam. Big Brother mowed the back yard and made ten bucks!

When we got home, Little Brother and I layed down and napped. Sunday afternoon naps are the bomb! (ok so that was a lame term but it fits)

Hubster fixed some of the pasta for dinner, then I shaved Big Brother's head for school tomorrow. He starts the 5th grade. I'm happy he's finally excited about going. It's partly because he's excited to wear his new Skechers and partly because his teacher asked him to teach her how to use the smart board.

Well, everyone's in bed except me and Hubster so I think it's time to go pester him and maybe get a pedicure in the process.

Saturday, August 19, 2006


It actually began 7 months ago yesterday at the doctor's office. He decided that it was time for Max to enter our world. Be at the hospital at 8:00 pm. On the way home, I called Hubster so he could be ready. I called work to let them know I wouldn't be in. I called my mom, my sisters, my friends.

I get home and Hubster tells me he needs his hair cut (perfect timing...NOT!). He takes Big Brother and goes to get it done. Meanwhile, I check my bags to make sure I've not forgotten anything. Hubster gets home having not gotten Big Brother's hair cut. He looks all shaggy still. I'm sitting on the couch and it all hit me. I was SCARED! I'm bawling like a baby and Hubster is trying to calm me down. You've done this before. It will all be fine. I know but....sob sob sob

We get to the hospital and are getting checked in. Big Brother asked what room they were putting me in and if possible, could they put me in room 711 where he was born. She called upstairs and yes, I could have room 711 WOOOHOOO!

OK now all settled in my room and here comes Mom, both sisters, and my nieces. They give me my IV (not an easy thing to do. They had to use a little machine to map my veins). By now, it's 10:00pm. Next step is to put in the Cervadil. This consists of a small disc attached to a shoestring that she will insert into my va-jay-jay. It takes 8 hours to work. WHAT?!?! The nurse sends everyone home but Hubster. He gets a nice cot to sleep on and I get a shoe string hanging out of my wahoo. And it burned! It burned all night long. Not a wink of sleep. It burned!!!

Fast forward to 8:00 am. Time for pitocin. Now, let me tell you, I'd been having small contractions for weeks. I was dialated to a 2 weeks before. The pitocin did nothing but make the contractions hurt worse. Around 10 am, I begged for the epidural. Nope. Not far enough dialated. Well crap! So she gave me a shot in the butt that was supposed to let me rest. I tried.

It wouldn't happen because I had little miss OCD for a nurse. Every time I'd get comfortable, she'd come in and move everything around. She told her student nurse that she liked to have things positioned HER way for HER convenience. What about my freakin' convenience?!?! I tried to rest some more. I'd catch little winks between pains. Hubster came in to sit with me but all he did was stare at me during contractions. I found that incredibly irritating. I was so exhausted and in pain, I didn't want anyone around me. Later I found out that no one wanted to come check up on me because I was so mean!

At 2:30, my doctor comes to check on me and break my water. The nurse asked him what speed he wanted the pitocin adjusted to. Full Labor, he says. WHAT??? Did he think I'd been having a tea party all day? Now the pains get even worse. At this point, I was dialated to 3.5. I begged again for the epidural. Not until you're a full 4, says OCD nurse. I told her to call them anyway because I would be a full 4 by the time he got there to do it. I promised. At 3:00 I got my epidural. I was finally able to rest and be comfortable. It was heaven. Like when I delivered Big Brother, the rest would be easy.

Boy was I wrong. The machine that gave me my epidural medicine began to beep. When it began to beep, I began to feel the pain again. OCD Nurse didn't believe me. She came in a adjusted the machine. Relief once again set in. Just as I'm getting relaxed and getting to rest, the stupid little machine beeped again. I felt pain again. Can you change out the machine? Yes. Well will you? No, there's nothing wrong with it. Yes there was. She still didn't believe me.

At 7 pm, it was shift change. I got the same nurse I'd had the night before. She was ok. Would she change out the machine? No, there's nothing wrong with it. At this point, I'm thinking I'm nuts. But I'm still in pain. I'd come to realize I was going to deliver this baby feeling every bit of the pain. I dealt with it.

Around 9:30, I was dialated to a 9.5 and ready to get this baby out of me. Nope, you're not fully dialated. Bitch! My sisters came in to be there with me, along with Hubster. I'm laying on my side, clutching the bed rail, trying with every ounce of my being to NOT push. Impossible! With each urge to push, I was trying not to push causing every muscle in my body to twitch and move. This is so cruel! Everyone else thought that was funny. Now, my nurse is in and out of the room getting things ready for delivery. I told her when she breezed in for the zillionth time that I was going to push with or without her. No, you can't do that, you're not fully dialated. Another nurse came in with the stuff for the baby. I told her I was going to push. Don't do that, there's no one there with a glove. I didn't care and began pushing anyway. FINALLY, my nurse came in so I could push. I had one sister holding one leg, Hubster holding the other, and my other sister wiping my face with a damp cloth. I remember pushing. I remember Hubster announcing that he had to use the bathroom (good timing dear). I don't remember the doctor arriving (yet at some point I looked down and he was there).

Then, out came my son with the cord around his neck. My beautiful slime covered grey little boy. The doctor put him on my stomach and I cried. He was just whimpering. Cry for me baby! He's just whimpering. Why isn't he crying? They doctor handing him over to the nursery staff. They cleaned him up, gave him oxygen and decided to rush him to the NICU. Hubster went with him. The doctor sewed me up (not believing that I could feel each stitch, which I did).

Big Brother came in to see me. He said he could hear me grunting from outside the room. He's excited but worried. We were all worried. No news yet. Hubster came in at some point to tell me our pediatrician was with Little Brother. That made me feel better.

It was getting late and they told us that no one would be able to see the baby for a while so everyone but Bams and Pops went home. Finally at 1:30 am, they took me to see my baby. He was under an oxygen hood and had what looked like a hundred lines attached to his no-so-little body. He was 9 lbs 4 oz, 22.25 inches long. A big boy.

Our ped came over to tell us that they couldn't get a normal IV on him so they had to do one in his umbilical cord. He was in severe shock. They didn't know why but a specialist would see him in the morning. In the meantime, they would pump him with fluids and antibiotics to fight whatever it was. Get some rest. Yeah, right.

I did manage to get some rest though. At 5 am, I was back in the NICU with my baby. He was looking a little better but I still couldn't hold him. At 8 am the specialist came by to talk to us. No clue what's wrong with your baby. All we can do is wait and see what the fluids and antibiotics will do for him. PRAY! That's all I could think to do.

Finally, at 10 am, they allowed me to hold and feel my baby. He took to the breast quite easily. This was a beautiful experience for me. It would be the only time he ever did. He wouldn't take it after that so we decided for his well-being, to give him formula. We were scared and wanted to know exactly what he was getting. It was a good decision.

Saturday night they sent me home. I cried all the way. I was so glad to have my mom at my house to help out. I needed her at that moment.

The next day, Sunday, he came down with jaundice and had to go under the bilirubin lights. Not a big deal, according to the doctors. It happens to a lot of babies. This still didn't make me feel better. They couldn't tell me what was wrong with my baby. He was doing better. He looked better. At least he wasn't grey anymore.

Monday, we got to bring him home. My beautiful little boy was at home, in my arms. They still don't know what caused him to go into shock. All that matters is he's happy and healthy now.

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This was taken right after he was born.

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This was the first time I got to hold him. He was swollen from all the fluids they had given him.

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And here he is under the bili lights. Notice the cool shades!

Thursday, August 17, 2006


You can't always judge a book by it's cover. Captain Kangaroo passed away on January 23, 2004 at age 76, which is odd, because he always looked to be 76. (DOB: 6/27/27). His death reminded me of the following story. Some people have been a bit offended that the actor, Lee Marvin, is buried in a grave alongside 3 and 4 star generals at Arlington National Cemetery. His marker gives his name, rank (PVT) and service (USMC). Nothing else. Here's a guy who was only a famous movie star who served his time; why the heck does he rate burial with these guys? Well, following is the amazing answer: I always liked Lee Marvin, but didn't know the extent of his Corps experiences.

In a time when many Hollywood stars served their country in the armed forces - often in rear-echelon posts where they were carefully protected - only to be trotted out to perform for the cameras in war bond promotions, Lee Marvin was a genuine hero. He won the Navy Cross at Iwo Jima. There is only one higher Naval award...the Medal Of Honor.

If that is a surprising comment on the true character of the man, he credits his sergeant with an even greater show of bravery. Dialog from "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson": His guest was Lee Marvin.

Johnny said, "Lee, I'll bet a lot of people are unaware that you were a Marine in the initial landing at Iwo Jima...and that during the course of that action you earned the Navy Cross and were severely wounded."

"Yeah, yeah... I got shot square in the bottom, and they gave me the Cross for securing a hot spot about halfway up Suribachi. Bad thing about getting shot up on a mountain is, guys getting shot hauling you down. But, Johnny, at Iwo I served under the bravest man I ever knew...

We both got the cross the same day, but what he did for his Cross
made mine look cheap in comparison. That dumb guy actually stood up on Red
beach and directed his troops to move forward and get the hell off the
beach. Bullets flying by, with mortar rounds landing everywhere, and he stood there as the main target of gunfire so that he could get his men to safety. He did this on more than one occasion because his men's safety was more important than his own life. That Sergeant and I have been lifelong friends. When they brought me off Suribachi, we passed the Sergeant and he lit a smoke and passed it to me, while lying on my belly on the litter, and he said, where'd they get you Lee? I said, Well Bob... if you make it home before me, tell Mom to sell the outhouse! Johnny, I'm not lying, Sergeant Keeshan was the bravest man I ever knew. The Sergeant's name is Bob Keeshan. You and the world know him as "Captain Kangaroo."

On another note, there was this wimpy little man on PBS, gentle and quiet. Mr. Rogers is another of those you would least suspect of being anything but what he now portrays to our youth. But Mr.Rogers was a U.S. Navy Seal, combat-proven in Vietnam with over twenty-five confirmed kills to his name. He wore a long-sleeved sweater on TV, to cover the many tattoos on his forearm and biceps. He was a master in small arms and hand-to-hand combat, able to disarm or kill in a heartbeat.

After the war Mr. Rogers became an ordained Presbyterian minister and therefore a pacifist. Vowing to never harm another human and also dedicating the rest of his life to trying to help lead children on the right path in life. He hid away the tattoos and his past life and won our hearts with his quiet wit and charm.

America's real heroes don't flaunt what they did; they quietly go about their day-to-day lives, doing what they do best. They earned our respect and the freedoms that we all enjoy. Look around and see if you can find one of those heroes in your midst.

Often, they are the ones you'd least suspect, but would most like to have on your side if anything ever happened. Take the time to thank anyone that has fought for our freedom. With encouragement they could be the next Captain Kangaroo or Mr. Rogers.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006


My dear darling son, Big Brother, only has a few words in his vocabulary these days. "I want" and "Can I have?" are the 2 prominent sentence starters he uses.

I can remember my dad saying the very same thing about my sister's and I growing up. He used to say the same sentence under his breath that I find myself saying..."I want I want I want, is that all you can say?". So I guess you could say, I've become my father LOL. Big Brother is only 10. How will I ever survive the teen years?

Little Brother has begun screeching. He squeals with delight but it's such a high pitched sound, the poor dog runs and hides. I really expect to look out on the front porch and see every dog in the neighborhood panting at the door. Thank goodness for the Backyardigans though. At least I get a half hour of no screeching. He loves that show and will sit and watch the entire thing without a peep.

I'm in the mood for the City Market. It's not open until Saturday so I'll have to hang until then. I need to get some veggies and refill my coffee. City Market Blend is one of the best coffees ever. I also need to replace the coffee grinder, first. The cheapest one the had at Target yesterday was $25. I know someone will have it cheaper.

Speaking of yesterday, I got my hair cut....short. Hubster wasn't thrilled but he's not the one that has to deal with it every day. It's so thick, it was just laying on the back of my neck. That doesn't help when the temp outside is over 100.

Monday, August 14, 2006


OK so it's actually more than pictures because that's just me and I can't help but talk. Not much new on the home front. Hubster went to the orthodontist today and they want $6900 for braces for him. Outrageous!

One week from today, Big Brother goes back to school. He'll be in the 5th grade this year. I'm looking forward to peace and quiet around the house during the day with just me and Little Brother. But I will miss having him here keeping me company.

Anyway, now for the pictures.

Two side notes:
1. Big Brother isn't pictured because he's on strike against me taking pictures of him.
2. If you look closely at the photos, you might see 2 little teefers!

Sunday, August 13, 2006


I've talked before about my friend, Tom. His latest excapade is hilarious. Tom goes to Subway and orders a 6 inch sub. When he sees how little meat they put on the sub, he asked about extra meat. The girl informs him it's another $3 for extra meat. WHAT?!?! Yes, $3! Now, Tom is an interesting character in the way he chooses to handle things. He asked her how much more meat she had there. She had 5 more "servings" if you will. He said go ahead and put them all on the sandwich. She did and charged him for each one. The total with tax came to $22.50 for a 6 inch sub. He kept the receipt and called Subway corporate office. He explained to them what he did and requested either his money back or 5 free subs (one for each extra he paid for). They told him they would forward his request on to the manager of that store. Well, he received a call, but it was from the wrong store manager. That manager actually asked him if it was true that he paid $22.50 for a 6 inch sub. Tom said he still has the receipt to prove it.

Now, I asked Tom recently how his "SUB CLAIM" was coming along. He said that they're still putting him off and he calls weekly to find out the status. He told them on his latest call that if they didn't appease him soon (BTW, he's now asking for footlong subs...interest you know!), he was going to blow up the receipt really large, buy Quiznos gift certificates and stand outside their store. Most people would say this but never do it. Tom, on the other hand, WILL do it. I told him to let me know when he does it so I can come get a Quiznos gift certificate. Quiznos is better than Subway, anyway.

I keep forgetting to ask him but I want a copy of the receipt just so I can look at it when I need a good laugh.

Thursday, August 10, 2006


There's still nothing much going on around here. We're going to a Chiefs party this weekend that I'm looking forward to. It's the first preseason game of the year, playing Houston.

We got an invitation to Hubster's stepsister's son's 1st birthday party. It's the 20th but school starts the 21st so we won't be making the trip to Springfield for it. I was shocked we got the invitation. They usually don't include us. We get reemed by Hubster's dad for not acknowledging them yet they never acknowledge us. Evidently, they got reemed too LOL. It's a stupid situation. Why should we be obligated? Oh well.

Since there's not much going on here, I'll leave another joke to fill space.

I have such a warped sense of humor these days.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006


There's not much going on around here this week. I've been doing some "spring cleaning" to get rid of the cobwebs and pass the time. School starts in 2 weeks. I'm still waiting to hear from the doctor's office on the biopsy. Just passing the time away...

Wednesday, August 02, 2006


I put gas in my minivan today and this is what I paid:

Tuesday, August 01, 2006


...the birds have to use pot holders to pull worms out of the ground.
...you notice the best parking place is determined byshade instead of distance.
...I saw Satan buying a snow cone.
...the trees are whistling for the dogs.
...you can make instant sun tea.
...you learn that a seat belt makes a pretty good branding iron.
...you discover that in July, it takes only 2 fingers to drive your car.
...you break a sweat the instant you step outside...at 7:30 am before work.
...you realize that asphalt has a liquid state.
...hot water now comes out of both taps.

And my favorite...the cows are giving evaporated milk!


Yes, I said it. Little Brother's first tooth broke through today. He's been an angel about it too. I figured he'd be fussy like Big Brother was but nope, no change in mood at all.

Big Brother went to the swimming pool with his friends so it's just been me and Little Brother around the house today. It's a good thing too, because I haven't felt well. I think the stress of yesterday did me in. We've enjoyed a day of lying around and resting.