Mush

Here's a hint:


Yup, that's my beautiful grandmother. Isn't she lovely? She's so graceful and elegant and teeny tiny. I feel like a big ol' buffalo compared to her- but that's not really important, now, is it? The important thing is that I found her two years ago and now I have a grandmother to call my own.

I was really sad that it was such a short visit, but we had work to attend to and the flight options weren't very good. We left at 9:30 pm Friday night and got on a plane at 5:30 a.m. this morning, so there was just one day to spend together.

Before we got there, I had a bit of an issue. It's kind of hilarious, and definitely blog-worthy.

We stopped at Starbucks on our way to visit my grandmother. Not being familiar with this car since it was a rental, I didn't understand that perhaps I should be careful about the door potentially shutting itself on my hand. There I was with one hand holding my iced vente americano, the other on top of the door as I sat down. Then bang- the door shut on my hand and it was stuck.

Sure, I could have dropped the coffee to give myself a hand free to open the door myself, but:
A: What a mess that would have made in the rental car
B: What a waste of good coffee
C: I could have gotten coffee all over myself

I chose instead, to cry out to the bearded eye-roller, "My hand is stuck in the door and I can't open it." BER moved faster than I've seen him move in a long time and freed my hand from the door.

In case you're wondering, that didn't feel very good- but I could NOT stop laughing. It was pretty embarrassing to admit that I'd rather keep my hand in the door than drop the precious coffee.

The visit with my grandmother was lovely. My aunt and cousin were there when we showed up, but said that they wanted my grandmother to spend time alone with us- so suggested we take her for lunch while they visited my other aunt.

Before leaving for the restaurant, my grandmother said that we could either take her walker, or she'd need an arm to hold on to while she walked. BER said, "I think having you on my arm would be a lot more fun, don't you?"

I have to say, I loved BER very much already, but watching how gentle and sweet he was with my grandmother made me fall in love even more. I told my grandmother that BER was going to be in BIG trouble later for flirting with another woman (her) and then we both giggled.

We shared private and special stories for almost three hours in that restaurant, and then went back to her home where my aunt and cousin had WAY too many baked goods (they're EVIL) and wine, and then we visited some more. She gave me some mementos to take home with me, including a birdhouse she hand painted. I didn't notice until I came home to unpack it that she'd signed it with a special note to me on the bottom. ::sigh:: I'll treasure that.

It was very difficult to pull myself away, but I could see that everyone was getting tired after a 9 hour visit, so we left.

I have so much that I would like to write about, but it's too private. I know I share a lot here on my blog, but I never share someone else's stories. That's very important to me and I know that my friends will understand.

I called my grandmother when we got home to let her know that we're safe and sound. While talking, she told me that she's so happy that BER and I are together. She said that it's very obvious that we were meant for each other. I have to agree. I'd also like to say that my grandmother and I were meant for each other- even if it didn't happen until 45 years after I was born.

I'm lucky indeed.

Funny, but your comments in my last post directly relate to what I'd planned on posting today.

Well, not the part of me being a bitchin' gal, but I'll take it! ha ha.

Annie, I like what you wrote about your husband's attitude. You're completely right- it *is* all about being grateful. This is exactly why I am Pollyanna. I'm simply grateful for everything that I have, and even though I whine here sometimes- not a day goes by that I don't feel sincere gratitude for something.

Usually, it's gratitude for being married to the bearded eye-roller. Boy, am I grateful that we are in each others' lives. I kid you not- we tell each other every.single.night on that back porch how nice it is being married. I suppose that could get sickening to listen to if you're not us- but it sure is nice for me to say it AND hear it.

I was writing a communication for the top dog today and thinking about how lucky I am. I absolutely love to write and I love to research, and this job allows me to do both things. While thinking about my luck, I kind of went down memory lane of what brought me to this place in my career. A place where I get to do something I love, get paid well to do it AND (bonus points) get to telecommute three days a week.

Wanna know my secret? It's because, as Anonymous G wrote in the comments, I'm tenacious. Even more, I'm not afraid to go after what I want. It's as simple as that.

It just never occurs to me that I can't do something if I set my mind to it. Add that to being a 'spin doctor' and you have someone who can sell herself to any future employer.

You need someone to do "x"? Yup. I can do that. (scramble... scramble... scramble.... what the heck did I just agree to?)

I think that most people I work with would be very surprised to know my educational background. Most people assume (trust me, I don't correct them!) that I have a good college education in the field du jour (computer technology? communications? journalism?). Nope. My education has all been from the school of life. While everyone else was going to college, I was having babies and waitressing.

Sometimes I look at where I'm at and can't believe my good fortune. Then there are other times that I really think about it and have to acknowledge that I didn't get here magically. I saw something I wanted, and then I made sure that it happened by doing a LOT of research. I'm just lucky that I was born with a very curious nature.

Sure, I've put myself in positions where I was clearly over my head, but I plugged along anyway because I'm not a quitter. Each time I win these battles, I have more ammunition to keep plugging away the next time it happens.

I hope this post doesn't come across as bragging. It's truly not my intent. I guess my point is that I'm grateful for the tools I have been given that brought me to this place in life. I see so many people who weren't blessed with the self-confidence to go after what they want. It makes me want to sit down with them and show them that if I can do it, they can to. And then? You'd better be grateful for it. It means nothing if you don't appreciate it.

Maybe I ought to take my show on the road. I'll call it "You too, can be a Pollyanna." ::snort::

I'm setting up my new NAS (Network Attached Storage) and while doing so, taking the opportunity to clean out my computer.

You know... instead of doing what I REALLY should be doing- WORKING.

Anyhoo- coming across a few gems that are making me smile. I think this is a much better idea that working, because working doesn't make me smile NEARLY as much. OK, in truth, working doesn't make me smile at all on the weekends. Pffffth.

Sent to Heidi on 3/14/04- just over a month before the bearded eye-roller and I got married.

Back from Vancouver...with a few mushy thoughts. I hope you don't mind.

It seems that every time we do something together (trips, out to dinner, etc.) I always think, "this is the BEST time I've ever had." That's what I thought the last time, and the time before that. How is it possible that everything we do is better than the time before?

I just feel so lucky to have the opportunity to love and be loved like THIS.....day in and day out.

I never thought it was 'real' when I witnessed it in the lives of other people. I never believed in this kind of love, and I thought there was NO WAY it would happen for ME.

It did, and I highly suspect I'll be saying that until one of us buries the other, hopefully not anytime soon.

You know what's funny? I thought I was madly in love with BER then, but it's NOTHING compared to how I feel about him today. I have a feeling that tomorrow I'll love him even a little bit more than I do today, because that seems to be the trend.

It's nice to be reminded of the good stuff when I have my head buried in work. It helps me to maintain perspective.

Well, in theory anyway.

See this big ol' melon head?


This would be Cameron 26 years ago.

Everyone say "Happy birthday, melon head!"


OK, let's compare to a somewhat normal sized baby head (that would be his brother, Casey on the right):


Let's talk about this melon head of his, shall we?

Every time Cameron gives me a headache, I casually mention the fact that I went through 26 hours of HARD labor to bring that head of his into the light of day.

We're not talking about namby pamby labor either, we're talking about induced labor with NO DRUGS.

Ladies, if you've ever had an induced labor, you can attest that it's like going from 0 to 60 in less than a minute. Now multiply that by 26 hours, and you'll get a sense of it. Here's a quote from a website I found:

"The contractions on the pitocin were so intense and so completely different than the normal contractions. They were harsh, sudden and agonizing. I felt like I was utterly out of control and could not stand it." -Gena

Can I get an AMEN, pitocin sisters?

Why no drugs? Well, they wouldn't give them to me because the melon head wasn't making enough effort to get this over with already. Instead, we got more pitocin.

The conversations in my head went something like this:
Bring it on, baby.
Let's get this over with.
Just kill me NOW.
I'm going to do a Cesarean on myself.

Did you notice the little bruises all over his head? That's what happened at the end of those 26 hours of HARD LABOR. Melon head still didn't want to come out, even with forceps.

If you're pregnant, do not continue reading.

Besides being a melon head, he was in the posterior position. The doctor tried over and over again to turn him, but I guess melon head wanted to see what was going on when he came out, rather than face the floor.

If he had his eyes open, he saw quite a show. By the time the doctor figured out that melon head was good and stuck, it was too late for a Cesarean. Melon head entered this world seeing a nurse on top of the delivery table, straddling my big belly, pushing from the top while the doctor pulled with the 'tongs'.

Once melon head was out, the doctor said, "watch out for this one- he's a stubborn one".

I should have had those words tattooed on melon head's cute little baby butt. Truer words have never been said.

That being said, I fell hopelessly in love the moment he was placed in my arms. It was very difficult for me to be away from him for even a minute. This is how we slept for the first couple of weeks until SCROOGE (his dad) finally put his foot down and separated us:


Cameron, every minute of those 26 hours of hard labor, ending with a nurse straddling me while a doctor pulled you out were totally worth it. I'd happily do it again because being your mother has been a honor.

The older you get, the more I love you. That statement amazes me, because I thought I loved you more than life the minute I saw you. Multiply that by millions and that doesn't even come close to how I feel about you now.

Happy birthday, honey. You can't possibly imagine how proud I am of you and how loved you are. It would blow your mind. Trust me on this.

Lessee..... you got married in 1965, so that makes this (gets abbacus) year 42. What year is that? I had to look it up. It's between Ruby and Sapphire. The bearded eye-roller will have our 'fruit' anniversary next year. What's THAT about? A case of kumquats?



Here you are, cutting the wedding cake. Dad- you have an uncomfortable smile on your face. I wonder if it's because you're worried that Mom is going pull that fun wedding prank of shoving cake in your face.

She's the type to do that you know. This apple didn't fall far from the tree, if you get my drift.

Mom, you look just beautiful in this picture. WOWzers! The interesting thing is, that I still see you like that in my minds eye. Sure, you're a 'little' older now, but in my head you're about this age.

I can't say the same for Dad. I don't see him like this at all in my head. Something about missing a mustache and suspenders.

I guess this means that you're no longer newlyweds. Sometimes I find that hard to believe because I see how much you two still flirt with each other. I'm old enough now where I don't think it's gross anymore. Well, most of the time.

Dad, I have seen some of the love notes that you've given to Mom. I wanted to steal one once so I'd have something tangible to hold in my hand to show how much you love each other. I also wanted to hold it as proof that there really is romance in that dad of mine. You don't seem the type, Dad.

I'm glad I know better.

Not many kids get to say that they've attended their own parent's wedding! Even though I was only five when you got married, I remember a lot from the wedding. I remember that you had doves (I can't remember if they were real or fake though), I remember a lady with cat-eye glasses (stylish at the time. Oh wait, they're back in style!) singing at your wedding. I remember running around a lot with Michael , probably making nuisances of ourselves.

Mostly I remember being able to say the word, "Papa" that day, for the very first time (later it turned out to be "Dad", but it was "Papa" for a while).

I even remember bits and pieces of when you were dating, but my lips are sealed. Tee hee. I'm kidding- it was all very proper. (Did I say that right? OK, you can pay me later...)

I especially remember, during your dating days, fitting all of us (you two, Michael and me) in Dad's corvette. Me between the two of you sitting on the console with the stick shift, and Michael laying in the back window ledge. Wow, how did we ever survive without those seatbelt and car seat laws, huh?

I guess you were planning to be a confirmed bachelor with a cool corvette for a while, huh Dad? Ha! Joke's on you! INSTANT family!



Yo! Michael! Way to rock the knee socks and bow tie! I think you should try to bring that look back in style again. You look SMASHING!

Adding to the 'instant family', came sweet JP, and Heidi . I don't write much about JP, here on my blog because I feel so protective of him. Rest assured though, he is always in the forefront of my mind. He was an awfully fun kid brother to have. Now he's just down-right special. A sweeter spirit has never existed, if you ask me. Well, unless he's cranky. Sweet? Not so much. tee hee.

By the way, I hope, in the light of being a sweet spirit, he's forgiven me for breaking his leg that one time.

I'm so blessed that you cared for Cameron and Casey while I worked. This gave them the opportunity to be in a good atmosphere (because it sure wasn't coming from MY house- cwazy wabbit that I am), and always in a place where they were loved. No daycare in the world could EVER compare to having grandparents watch over them.

I know this is getting very long, but I wanted you to know how thankful I am for the event that took place on July 23, 1965. You are yin and yang, constantly balancing each other out. A perfect match.

Mom and Dad, I hope you have many more happy years together. While I'll never see you as that 'cute little old couple' in my head because you'll be forever in your 30's- I'd sure like to see that happen for you. I guess all kids want their parents to live forever, but even more so when we can see that they're with someone who loves and adores them. We (your four children) are lucky to witness that love and adoration coming from both of you even after all these years. It seems to get more that way every year.

Happy Anniversary. You are both loved more than you know.

Love,
Lori
(you know- the one who gave you gray hair)