Sunday, March 16, 2008

Cause and Effect

I just learned some wonderful news. Melanie, that I told you was moving to California, got a surprise. She is pregnant...with number four. Hey Mel, you do know what causes that, right?

Congratulations to Melanie and her growing family.



On a recent shopping trip:

Me: That purse is so freakin' cute!

Me: Oh my gosh! That puppy is so freakin' cute!

Me: Oh look at that. It is so freakin' cute!

Me: You should have seen Emma the other day, she was so freakin' cute!

Me: I love those cars. They are so freakin' cute!

A few hours later.....

Emma: Mom, I want these shoes. They are so freakin' cute!

Emma: Don't you love this dress for you mom. It is so freakin' cute!

Emma: Can I please have those shoes? They are so freakin' cute!

Me: Emma. Stop saying that! That sounds horrible. I don't know why she is saying it that.

MIL: She is saying it because you say it all the time.

Me: I do? (I don't say that! She's crazy!)

A few hours later.....

Me: Emma, those dresses are soooo freakin' cute! (GASP!!!)


Sunday, March 09, 2008

The Argument

I have a book that is used for the sole purpose of when you have writer's block. Today I had it.

I know Jackson said something very bloggable about black holes today, but I don't know if you would really get it. I mean, you have to know Jackson. When he gets on something...he stays on it. This black hole talk, it started back before Christmas. He has tossed it around in his little head for that long. (He is soooo much like me. We Cancers, we over-analyze things....just a tad.)

Well, I might as well tell you the story anyway....

We were watching a DVD called Indescribable. It is done by an inspirational speaker named Lou Giglio and what he is basically saying is that the universe is like Earth and Earth is just a the Universe. Does that make sense? He is trying to make you realize how big God is and how small you are in the scheme of things. If you realize how small Earth is, then think about how small you are. It has all these great photos that help to illustrate just how small Earth is. Lou shows various photos taken from the Hubble satellite and some others. There is one they call God's Eye that you would probably recognize if you saw it. There also is a picture of a black hole. Who would have thought that this one word, this one picture would cause such chaos and be the start of so many questions.

You all know, I live with a science wizard. Dylan rattled off something informational about black holes and we all moved on with the movie. Next thing we know, Jackson is crying. He has been thinking and tossing around scenarios of all kinds in his little head.

Jackson: (Big 'ol alligator tears and arms crossed over his chest) Mom?! Will we ever be sucked into a black hole?

Me: (Looking at Wade and asking him with my eyes, "Oh my gosh! Can it really happen? Are we all going to die!!!!) Oh Jackson, no, I mean, it could happen, but we would just live in the black hole on earth, nothing would change really, we just would be in a different ... ...(Wade looks at me like I am a complete idiot and shakes his head and mouths, "that so is NOT what would happen") Nope, it's not true Jackson, that is not going to happen. Don't worry about it, okay. We are NOT going to be sucked into a black hole any time soon.

That seemed to satisfy him for a while.

Then today....when we got home and he looked up at the brought up a file from his deep thoughts on black holes and opened it right up....

Jackson: Mom, I don't want to get sucked up into a black hole.

Me: Jackson--we are not going to get sucked up into a black hole. Why are you asking that?

He rattled on about something else...for a minute.

We got into the kitchen and everyone was doing their thing... 30 minutes later....

Jackson: Mom, Dylan said that a black hole is made when stars blow up. Is that true?

Me: Jackson, I have no idea how a black hole is made.(Folks, I retained NOTHING from school. Nothing.)

Wade: A black hole is made when a star combusts and collapses on itself.(smarty pants)

I piddle around the kitchen for a while. We talk about the dogs. We talk about money. We talk about what we are going to do tomorrow... 20 minutes later...

Jackson: Mom, will we still have electricity when we get sucked into the black hole?

Me: (Deep breath) No!

We talk some more about the post office, Kroger and Savannah.... 15 minutes later...

Jackson: Mom, will we be able to drive cars when we get sucked into the black hole.

Me: Jackson! If we get sucked into a black hole, we are all going to be dead! You can't live in a black hole. We ARE NOT going to be sucked into a black hole. What is wrong with you?!!!!

He walked away. Satisfied maybe. Or maybe I just scared him a little more. (Mother of the year!!!)

10 minutes later.

Jackson: Mom, will we know each other in Heaven? (Bless his heart, he is going to have a heart attack by the time he is 10 will all this worry)

Me: Yes, Jackson. I think we will.

Jackson: Well, we better go to church on Sunday.

Me: Yep, I am there.

After everyone has said their good nights and I have told them to go to bed at least 1000 times....

Jackson: Mom.

Me: Yes....Jackson.

Jackson: We better get five air tanks for when we go into the black hole....and two for the dogs.

So...what does the title of this blog have to do with Jackson and black holes? Nothing really. I had flipped to a page in my Writer's block book because I thought I had nothing to write about and it said, "Write an argument between two characters that starts in bed". Of course the only thing that I could think of was the ONLY argument that happens in bed and that might not be deemed a suitable topic for some of you. I was going to write it and let you decide if you would like to read it or not.

I have had the book for about two months now...I have never had to use it, for there is never a shortage of topic in our household.


For the Sake of Argument

Yesterday, the ENTIRE family went to Wal-mart. We don't attempt this often. When we do, there is plenty to blog about.

From behind us, Wade and I hear:

Emma: Tell me that dinosaurs are not all dead.

Jackson: They are.

Emma: Nooooo. Jackson, tell me the dinosaurs are not all dead.

Jackson: But they are.

Emma: Jackson! Just tell me that they aren't!

Jackson: Dinosaurs are not all dead.

Emma: Yes they are.


Friday, March 07, 2008

Pretty Much Crazy

Emma: Do you know what makes that sound when you snap?

Me: (I can look really smart here) Yeah. It is the friction from you middle finger and your thumb when they slide off of each other.

Jackson: Well, Grammy said that it is your middle finger slapping your hand.

Me: (What?! That's not right!) You know Grammy is crazy right?

Jackson:...pretty much.


Hard Times

Wade was let go from his job today. Prayers please.


Thursday, March 06, 2008

Where I've Been

I'm sick...and cleaning carpets. Don't you wish you were me?


Monday, March 03, 2008

51 is Close To 60.

On Friday, Jackson was checking out my calendar by my desking, making sure I had all birthdays listed in their proper place. We were checking out the horses on the calendar also, to see who's month had the prettiest horse. Jackson and I decided that ours, June, was the prettiest, of course.

He flipped back to March and realized that Monday is my mother's birthday.

Jackson: Grammy's birthday is soon?!

Me: Yep! On Monday.

Jackson: (In a whisper, because you never want to say a big number out loud) She is going to be 51.

Me: What?! Do you think that is old?

Jackson:'s pretty close to 60. (Duh!)


Sunday, March 02, 2008

Jackson Tutus

As I was getting Emma ready to Grandma and Peepaw's house, we had the following conversation regarding dancing supplies:

Me: Okay, Emma, make sure that you tell Grandma that you need tap shoes, ballet shoes, leotards, a tutu, a dan....

Emma:(wrinkling her nose and looking at me as though I have said something absurd) A tutu?!!

Me: Yeah, that is the skirt that ballerinas wear.

Emma: No it's not! (dummy) That is what Jackson does!


Saturday, March 01, 2008

Nine is Fine

But 10 can wait! Can you believe that my baby is nine years old. It just doesn't seem possible. Then again, it seems as though he has always been here. My life must have been so boring before he came along.

So, for his birthday, because my brother is getting married and there were showers going on for that, he opted to skip the big party and just requested a PSP and a Mexican supper at home. I did my very best to deliver.

We had everything I could think of that was Mexican. We made refried beans, soft tacos (Dylan's adament request), Mexican rice, diced tomatoes, queso, salsa, diced onion, shredded lettuce, cheddar cheese, tostitos and my favorite, the shredded Mozarella cheese that Wade had fun making fun of because that is Italian, not Mexican. Who knew?

He liked it, Mozarella cheese or not!

Dad made his traditional cake. Dylan requested strawberry cake with vanilla frosting. It was yummy!

Dylan's was a perfect pregnancy. I was sleepy, which I love to sleep, it is one of my favorite things to do! I was glowing. I was healthy. There were no concerns or scares. It was just perfect.

Is there really such a thing as a smooth delivery? I don't think so. With Dylan I threw up in the floor while in labor and of course, offered to help clean it up. Throwing up, in turn, broke my water. I started labor in the middle of friends, 8:00 p.m., on Thursday, February 25, 1999. I was already at the hospital being enduced. I labored for 12 hours before he entered the world...silent. I felt nothing through the few pushes it took and even declared immediately after, "Wow, that was easy. I could do that again."

All of a sudden, everything was no longer "easy". I remember that no one was telling me what was going on, but every one was suddenly rushing. Numbers were being dialed on the little telephones and the word "STAT" was being used. Then a breathless doctor came running in the room with a big toolbox exclaiming about how fast she had gotten there. They went to work on Dylan, who was grey and not whimpering a sound. He lay limp. They shook him and his little body just jiggled, but did not fight back. The cord had been wrapped around his neck and he was not breathing. It all happened in minutes.

I remember that I was not scared at first. I was calm and felt that they had everything under control. Once that doctor came running in and I saw what they were doing I began to realize that something was not right, but still, I felt calm and that everything was going to be fine.

Then, there it was. The sweetest gurgled cry. Those teeny hands flailing in the air wondering what they were feeling, why they were no longer warm and all smooshed into his little cramped home he they known for nine months. There were, "'There ya goes' and 'Good boys'. Then a bundle of joy was placed in my arms. When he was born, he scored a 1 on his APGAR test. Now he scored an 8. In my book, he was a 10. Perfect. In every way.

Dylan is the most laid back, calm child. He is so sweet, sensitive and so mature. He is smart, intellectual and not to mention handsome. He can sing karaoke like the Jonas Brothers, watch over his younger siblings without complaint, cook and he will charm the pants off of you with that small smile.

Lord, thank you so much for Dylan. What a precious gift this child is. I pray that I have him for at least 90 more years to come.

Love ya, Dylan!


Fairy Dust Restores Your Heart

Emma and I had a conversation yesterday in the only place where good conversations and deep contemplating of world troubles happen. In the bathroom.

Emma: Mom.

Me: (Contemplating)

Emma: Mom.

Me: (Looking up at her.)

Emma: Mom.

Me: WHAT!? (I am looking right at you! Do I really have to verbalize it?!)

Emma: Mom.

Me: What. Emma.

Emma: Mom. If we put fairy dust on the place where Bailey is then he will come out of the ground and have wings and we will bring him back here and give him a whole bunch of vitamins and he will come back to life. Doesn't that sound like a good idea?!

(With each new syllable she is getting more and more excited and ends with her hands out, like, tada.)

Me: That would be nice wouldn't it Emma. I wish it worked that way.

Emma: Mom. (She changes to a deep whisper, looking very deep into my eyes and telling me a secret, as though, if THEY hear, whomever THEY may be, we will wish they hadn't) Mom. If you go to the graveyard and you touch the rocks (I later learn this means the tombstones) zombies will come out of the ground and kill you. That's what happened to Bailey, he touched the rocks and the zombies killed him.

Me: (I wonder where she got this information from? Oh my goodness, I could have so much fun with her in a graveyard one day. I smile mischeviously. If people only knew my real thoughts. Back into mommy mode...BOYS!!!!)


Catching Up

I have a LOT of catching up to do. I have been without Internet for three days, count two. three.

I have not been able to tell you what will happen if we sprinkle fairy dust on Bailey's grave.

I haven't gotten to show you the fabulous spread I created for someone's very special ninth birthday.

I also haven't gotten to tell you how "unlarious" Jackson is when he cracks himself up at his "boy boobies" bouncing up and down.

You can blame all of this on AT&T, or Bellsouth, or whomever they may call themselves these days. They cost me at least five years off of my life. I have written down, eight telephone numbers that I dialed while trying to find SOMEONE to help me. This, however, does not include the times I was transferred and it also does not include the times they called me themselves, nor does it include the time I waited on hold for over two hours collectively. I have never been driven to the point to where I understood why someone would snap and go "postal" until this week.

I totally got it.