Stupid pills

When Ma broke her arm, the doctor gave her a prescription for Vicodin. She called them her "Stupid pills". She would only take them before she went to bed because, she said, they made her feel stupid. They relieved her pain, but she wasn't able to think clearly. I'm convinced that some people take stupid pills every day! What else could explain what they do or say?
Catie called me the other night, crying. Ben's aunt read a comment Catie had made on her Facebook page. She responded with an especially cruel comment. No one invited her into the conversation, she just butted in. Her comment about Ben's mother wanting to be a grandmother "someday" cut Catie to her core. It was 4 months to the day since she had miscarried. To my understanding, this woman had never acknowledged Catie and Ben's loss, or offered any sympathy or prayers. When Catie and Chris responded to her unsolicited attack by trading barbs back and forth, she called them dueling idiots. Yet, she calls herself a "good Christian woman". Hmmm....

What is a "good Christian"? From all of my years in church, including the years I taught Sunday School, Bible School, and Children's Choir and the years I went to "Circle meetings", I've learned that there's no such thing. "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Rom. 3:23). Paul makes no distinction between those who believe in Christ and those who don't. None of us is worthy of forgiveness. If we confess with our mouths that Christ is our redemer, and take his words to heart, it is possible to live a "Christlike" life. Most of us do this when it's convenient, but not on a daily basis. We let a word slip, make an ugly comment, take the incorrect change at the checkout, fudge on our resume, let out temper get the best of us, suffer from road rage. Every one of us has done something that was not Christlike. I can have a potty mouth and a frightening temper. Praise God I can go to Jesus and confess my sins and my weaknesses. No matter how many times I make the same mistake, Jesus forgives me. He never says "Don't you get it yet??". He always says "Go, sin no more".
I think two of the first truths children learn at church are 1. Jesus loves me, and 2. Treat others the way you want them to treat you (The Golden Rule). Lots of companies are incorporating the Golden Rule into their behavior policies (without giving credit to Jesus, of course). This gets down o the crux of the "Facebook issue". Would you want someone to butt in on your conversation without being invited? I wouldn't. Would you butt in on a conversation without being invited? Probably not. Would you call someone that you don't know from Adam's house cat an idiot? Don't think so. Would you show a little compassion to someone who has suffered a loss greater than any of us could imagine? I hope so.
The problem with most who proclaim themselves "good Christians" is that they act no better than those of us who are just Christians. You know, the ones who believe Christ died for each of us. The ones who don't just talk the talk (very loudly!), we walk the walk.
'Nuff said!

Spring cleaning in the snow

We have lived in our house for 6 1/2 years. The carpet was not the best quality in the world and it didn't take long for it to mat and/or shred. We discussed new carpet vs laminate floor. I really wanted laminate. If one of the cats get unhappy with the condition of the litter box and decides to pee on the floor, it can be wiped up rather than soaking into a pad and stinking up the house!
Chris moved most of the furniture into the dining room last week (this ties in to "Don't touch my stuff"!). On Saturday, we bought the floor and got down to work. The carpet and pad were sliced into sections, tied and carried out to the curb. The amount of dirt that had collected under the carpet was amazing! Even though we vacuumed regularly, we could have grown potatoes in the dirt I swept up. The new floor snapped easily into place. The baseboard went down easily, too. We bought 18 inch tiles to go at the front door. This was the only hitch in the "new floor" plan. We were 2 tiles short! We dusted all of the furniture and moved it back into place. Sounds like a quick, easy weekend project, right? WRONG! We worked on that room for 3 days! Ten hour days! I have a blister on my knee and my joints and muscles are begging for mercy! But I have a clean room. There is one room in my house that isn't cluttered. It looks great! Dave is convinced that we need to get rid of all the carpet. He and Chris are going to start ripping up the dining room carpet tomorrow. Wonder what I'll be doing on my next day off?!

Happy Birthday Chris

My first baby, Christopher Van, was born 27 years ago yesterday. He was due on January 20. By the 24th, I had had enough of being pregnant! It was Super Bowl Sunday. Our minister asked me when I was due. I told him that "he was due last week, but I'm going to watch the Super Bowl, then I'm having this baby!". My water broke at halftime! The 49ers were playing the Bengals. The 49ers won (I was for the Bengals!).
We checked in to the hospital at around 1am. My contractions lasted longer than the break between them. I was vomiting and in horrific pain. Dave did his best to help me. He rubbed my back and kept cool cloths on my head. I asked the nurse for pain medicine when I couldn't stand it any longer. She said "you can't have anything for pain. You're going LaMaze." She had her stethoscope draped around her neck. I took both ends of it and twisted, attempting to choke her! I said "My doctor said I could have something for pain if I wanted it. Now, you get your ass out there and get it for me or I'll take your keys and get it myself!" She brought me a shot of Demerol (no Phenergan). Not only did that make the vomiting worse, but it made me crazy! It did nothing to relieve my pain!
Chris was on a fetal monitor by this time. His heart rate began to drop. It went from the 130s to the 70s and didn't come back up. I had been a nurse long enough to know what late decelerations were and their significance. Dave rang for my nurse and told her about Chris' heart rate. She walked into the room, kicked the monitor so that I couldn't see it, and walked out of the room. It was about 5:30 in the morning. I didn't see her again.
My doctor came in at a little after 7 to check on me. When Dave told him about my relentless pain and Chris' heart rate, he left the room. I heard him giving someone "down the country" for not contacting him. I felt sorry for the nurse receiving the tongue lashing, her shift had just started. He came back into the room and explained that, after an x-ray, he would do a c-section. At that point, I was so exhausted that I told him that if he would take Chris right then, I'd let him x-ray whatever he wanted! I didn't care if someone pulled that baby out of my nose!
The x-ray tech was wonderful! She showed me the picture as soon as it was ready. Chris was in a textbook position except that his neck was hyperextended back! It was as if he wanted to see what was "outside" before he joined us! No wonder he was having late decelerations!
The anesthesiologist was a little Chinese guy. When he started to place the epidural, he said "You put your knees to chest". I told him that I hadn't seen my knees in a couple of months! Once the epidural was in, life was good! After 17 hours of labor, and only dilating 3 cm, Chris was born. Poor little guy! He looked like a cross between ET and Klingon! He was a kind of purple/gray color with a little ridge down the middle of his head! He had such a serious look on his face!
Chris was a fabulous baby. He slept for 6 hours his first night home and only cried when he was sick, which wasn't often. He was so easy that we decided we should have another one. Parenting was a piece of cake! Ignorance is bliss!

Elephant

Here it is!! The finished elephant. He was really easy to make. The head looked very strange until I added the eyes, ears, and tusks. It was this large round thing with a long protrusion sticking out of it. Scary!
I hope Catie likes it!

Troubles aplenty

When I was growing up, "Don't tell your mother" was as much a warning as it was an instruction. It meant that if Ma found out whatever it was that she wasn't supposed to, we would all suffer her wrath. Someone dented a fender in a parking lot? "Don't tell your mother". Someone made an "F"? "Don't tell your mother". Pop spent a little extravagantly when we all went out on a Saturday? "Don't tell your mother". None of the things we didn't tell were earth shaking and none would seriously alter the course of history, but it made me very careful what information I divulged. When I knew that I was pregnant with Chris, I wasn't quite sure about how to tell Ma. I was married, we had good jobs and a house, but I was still not sure how she would react. In addition to feeling excited, I felt a little fear and dread. Fortunately, Ma and Pop were going to visit his family up north that summer. My Aunt Cartha (Pop's sister) had been asking Ma for many years about when she was going to be a grandmother. Until my sister Kathy got married, Ma was really in no hurry! We were sitting on the front porch one afternoon discussing the upcoming trip. I decided to jump in with both feet: "When you see Aunt Cartha and she asks you about grandchildren, tell her January!". Ma looked at me and asked if I was trying to tell her something. "Uh, you're going to be a grandmother in January". Ma was thrilled! As it turned out, telling my mother was easy. I learned that I could tell her anything and her reaction was never as bad as I feared.
Now, I'm in a "Don't tell your father" situation. Elliott has a girlfriend who is so evil, she's Melissa on steroids! This chick will ruin his life. Not might, will! She has gotten Elliott in some serious trouble out of pure spite and meanness. Some people think that it's OK to use "domestic abuse" charges as punishment when their SO makes them mad. It's NEVER OK to do that. It lessens the seriousness of such a charge. I have been through this with Russ and his ex. Exact same situation. She would do everything in her power to emasculate him, to destroy him, to ruin him, then whine "domestic abuse". Truth is, SHE was the abuser! Sam is doing the same thing to Elliott. She is telling him where he can live, where he can work, and who he can be friends with. She has cost him one job already. He has spent the night in jail because of her (a phony domestic charge). He was afraid to call anyone. Thank God that Elliott's friend Craig found out about it and got him out. Elliott still insists on living with this she-devil! He loves her! Please don't tell Dad that he was in jail because of her!
Please, God, don't let them reproduce! And please, remind me that You will take care of her in Your time so it's not necessary for me to rip her lip off!

Heffalumps and Woozles

I'm knitting an elephant. I started out wanting to knit a teddy bear, but I haven't found the pattern I want yet. I want to make a bear with jointed arms and legs, knit from mohair yarn. When I find it, I'll get started. In the meantime, I'm making a really cute elephant for Catiebug. I was thinking of the color combinations I could use, but I decided to give her a choice. She chose beige and brown. The beige part for the body is OK. Brown for the soles of the feet and ear trim is OK, too. But the trim color is also used for the tusks. Brown tusks just aren't right! It would look like the elephant had major tooth decay! He will get white tusks. I've finished the body and am half done with the head. I figure that, since no one else is interested in "the living room project", I'll spend the weekend working on the elephant. After all, I can only handle one giant project at a time!

Leave my stuff alone!

I got so aggravated with Dave on Saturday. There are times when he becomes a complete and total control freak. You'd think that after 30 years of marriage he would learn that there are things that I simply will not tolerate!
We are planning to yank up the carpet in our living room/dining room/hallway. Six years of wheelchair rolling, muddy shoes, cat yak, and fur has taken its toll on this cheap stuff! In order to get this done, we need to unload all of the stuff in each area. Here is where I need to add that Dave has all of the finer instincts of a pack rat! He has "stuff" in every room of our house, not to mention the basement, garage (my car has never been in the garage...there's no room for a car!), and the barn out back. This stuff is mostly models in various stages of completeness, but also includes trains, magazines, DVDs, boxes (no, we never do throw away a box), and the occasional dirty dish. Where does he decide to start his "cleaning"? IN THE ONE CORNER OF THE LIVING ROOM WHERE I KEEP MY YARN STASH!!!!
My yarn is kept in plastic storage tubs and canvas storage cubes. It's relatively neat, for yarn. Most importantly, It's MY corner! I have my own way of organizing things. It's my defense against his clutter! It may not look organized to anyone else, but can put my hand on anything I want. Worsted weight acrylics are in the plastic tub. Other yarns are placed in cubes based on weight and color. My knitting needles are kept in a gift box that is supposed to be used for a bottle of wine. It's a pretty color and the round shape accommodates lots of needles! There's also some fabric, mostly my WIPs, that I don't want to leave in the basement. My most current pattern books are on the table beside my chair. The others are kept in magazine boxes, sorted out by title and type.
When I'm at work, I'm away from home for three to four day stretches. Imagine my surprise when I came home and my stuff was GONE! "We're working our way around the room and your stuff was next" he said. Right! Then why wasn't the desk cleaned off? Why wasn't his pile of stuff beside the desk in a box? Why was my stuff the only thing moved? I reacted the way any reasonable person would: I hit the roof! In short, I reamed him a new one! "LEAVE MY STUFF ALONE!" I screamed!
He reacted the way any guilty party would: He put on the "poor me" face. He does what he can, he was just trying.....to what? Make me nuttier than I already am?!? Here's a news flash: IT WORKED! I was so angry that I ran away from home. This is also a normal reaction for me. Rather than say something I'll regret, I get in my car and go for a drive. With the radio off, I have time to sort things through and to pray. First, I thank God that I still have Dave to make me crazy. Some women, through death or divorce, are without their husbands. Then, I thank God for my children. They're good kids. Sometimes they have to learn life's lessons the hard way, but they always come back to the solid rock foundation that was laid for them as small children. Last, I have a conversation with God. I tell him why I'm angry and try to justify my anger. I vent, I cry, I whine, I pout. God listens. Then, I stop the car and I listen. Sometimes, God tells me to just chill out. Sometimes He tells me I'm way off base! All the time, He reminds me that He loves us all in spite of our faults and I need to forgive Dave the same way that God has forgiven me.
When I got home, I was calmer. I had a plan. I would just undo what Dave had done and pack up my stuff the way I want it. Unfortunately, Dave was not over it! He had called Catie and Elliott and told them that I had gone flying out of the driveway in a rage. He said he was "preparing them for whatever happened". He also said that the kids were "sick" of my temper fits. I asked each of them if they had said this. Of course they hadn't. I was the one who apologized to each of them. He didn't apologize to anyone!
Nothing has been done in the living room since last Saturday night when I boxed up my things.
I understand that Dave has control issues. I know how much he hates depending on others to help him with daily tasks that he used to be able to do himself. I know he's frustrated. But he has to understand that, by becoming a tyrant he is alienating the people who love him the most. It is not the trial that makes us stronger. It's how we choose to react to/respond to that trial that strengthens us.