Something happened today that left me nearly speechless. No small feat.
I'm busting my Sin City cherry in a couple of months. That's right, I'm going to Vegas! It's a place I've always wanted to go to, just to say I've been... once. Anytime Big Joz and I have been in a casino (which number maybe 9 at the most), we've each been alloted a certain amount of money (typically $20 each) to "blow". The very first time we ever went to a casino, Big Joz blew $100 in the first... oh... 27 seconds. Then he wanted to get money out of the ATM machine. Then he wanted to get an advance on his credit card. Then he wanted to get an advance on MY credit card. Then he wanted to sell our first-born child. Big Joz is now only ever allowed to walk in a casino with a $20 bill... no plastic of any sort!!
All that to say... a gambler, I'm not. But a sightseer and adventurer, I am!!
So, I'll be making the maiden voyage to Vegas for a work trip. I'm doing some continuing education for my job and will be earning credits toward certification. In order to earn the money for my trip, members of the church where I work are being asked (voluntarily) to sponsor different parts of the trip, such as different classes, nights of lodging, so many miles of airfare, etc. In addition, Big Joz and I will be catering a "Sunday lunch" in a couple of weeks with all proceeds going to pay for trip expenses.
The first donations came in Sunday and I was pleasantly surprised. I've always been told what a generous congregation this was and after my love gift at Christmas, I learned first hand. Anyway, a few other people have asked, inquired and discussed with me how they'd like to help me, which has excited me to no end. I will celebrate my first anniversary with this church tomorrow and I absolutely LOVE my job. Ask anyone who knows me... they can attest to it!
I should mention that I'm a church secretary... at a denomation that's different than where I'm a member (and where I worked previously). When I worked at my previous church job, I asked if the church would pay my annual dues to my professional assocation (which were $50 annually). I was quickly told no, that there were no funds available. Period. I was very disappointed since I knew that $50 in that particular church's budget wouldn't even cause the water to stir around.
In order to maintain my certification with Church A, I'm required to attend a national conference every 4 years. Church B funded my trip to Church A's national conference this spring... and were supportive. I couldn't ask Church B to pay for a second national conference in one year. Besides... this trip will be more costly since I'll have to purchase an airline ticket.
I'm really digressing. Sorry. It's the Coco Beach.
Today, I received a donation to the "Send Mama Joz to Sin City" fund. A person I didn't know at all before I started work there but have gotten to know a little and am really fond of, had mailed a check for $500. I was absolutely dumbfounded when I opened the envelope. I checked to make sure that the words "five hundred" were actually written out; that the person hadn't meant $5 or $50... "five hundred" was actually written out. Wow! I can't express how humbled I felt. Someone I didn't know a year ago was investing $500 (that's a LOT of money!) in me... in my education.
I am SOO SOO grateful. Not only for this wonderful gift, but for the opportunity to work for a group of people who believe in me and what I do. This past year has been the best year of my work career. I feel loved, appreciated, supported. That's priceless. I absolutely LOVE my job and the people I work for! I am overwhelmed by their love and generosity!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Life SUCKS today...
I haven’t spoken to my son since he grabbed me in a fit of rage Sunday. Every night, my stomach has churned, hoping and praying that I didn’t receive any bad news about him.
Bud slept until 3:00 that afternoon, then got up and showered, ready to start his day (meaning leave the house immediately, getting away from us and avoiding any work or chores). First, though, he wanted my debit card so he could fill his truck up with gas. At that point, Big Joz and I told the kids it was time to have a family discussion about finances. We are going to be following Dave Ramsey’s Total Money Makeover starting August 1. More on that later. Anyway, Bud was completely belligerent and defiant about this whole money discussion. One area that we specifically wanted and needed to discuss with him was how much our household spends on gasoline each month. He uses almost the same amount that Big Joz and I do together. Now, considering that we have J-O-B-S and he doesn’t (nor is he going to school this summer), that just doesn’t seem right to me AT ALL. Anyway, long story short, he ended up getting so angry, he yelled, cussed, called names and decided to become physical about his feelings and emotions. He left, on foot, and I haven’t heard from him since.
Big Joz texted him Sunday night and all day Monday, begging him to come home, but Bud simply stated there was no way he’d come home to a “f*ck^ng b#tch who didn’t give a sh@t about her son”. Big Joz suspended his phone service Monday night.
I have no idea where he is, who he is with or what he has been doing. The Mama in me worries constantly anyway and the last few days have been Hell. The Mama Joz in me is stubborn… let him stay gone, without a phone and a vehicle and an “endless” supply of financial support. He’s 18 years old and needs to learn a life lesson from all this. My house has stayed neat and tidy, my nerves haven’t been shot, my money hasn’t been spent carelessly. However, the Mama in me seems to be prevailing… and I want my son home.
2. My friend moved. I miss her immensely. When she moved, I lost not only my very dear friend, but my sister, my child, my housekeeper, my masseuse, my bartender, my dog sitter, my sous chef, my shadow. I know this is the best decision for all of us, but dang. I miss her. And I worry about her. Oh how I hope she takes this “last chance” and does something productive.
3. TMMO. Living on a budget. Having to say “no” to my children. Having to say “no” to Self. I don’t want to start polishing my own toenails. Damn, I have a hard enough time bending over to tie my shoes (on the rare occasions I wear something but flip flops)… but polishing my toes? And staying in the lines??
4. My marriage. After a very heated argument July 2, I left home and spent the next 48 hours in solitude; completely alone, evaluating my relationship with my husband (and the one we have with our son). The one condition on my coming home was that we start going to counseling. We have our 3rd appointment this afternoon. I love Big Joz with all my heart; he’s my best friend and he makes me laugh. We have fun together. We want to grow old together. He’s the one I want beside me when I rock my grandbabies. But, we aren’t on the same page with a few things (raising children, discipline, support and finances) and it’s very difficult for me right now.
5. My little Pud. Oh how that child worries me. Pud has absolutely ZERO concept of money! When we discussed the family budget, she guessed that our mortgage was $275 a month (of course, then she admitted that she really didn’t even know what a mortgage is); we spend $150 a month on food (groceries AND dining out) for our family of 4 and bless her heart, we spend a whopping $75 on gasoline every month for our three vehicles. WOW. She called me yesterday asking what I thought rent would be for an apartment on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. I guessed $2,000; she announced that she had found a bargain, then, because the 1 bedroom loft she found was ONLY $1,600!
All she wants in life is to be signed to Elite Model Agency. She has begged me to buy her pills which claim to increase your height (since she was told she needed to be at least 5’ 5”). She talks about us going to Miami as if it were on our calendar to leave tomorrow.
She has decided she needs a tutor so she can get lots of scholarships for her to go to school at NYU and major in fashion merchandising.
Once again, she has decided she doesn’t want to go to her private school because of all the drama. While NOT paying tuition again sounds oh so wonderful, TOUGH—make your decisions in life and deal with them. Life ain’t always rosy, sister. Trust me. So some of your friends are b%tch+s… you act like one sometimes, too!!
Well, that’s my life in a nutshell right now. Yes, it totally sucks… BUT, I know that these things, too, shall pass. When I look at things in perspective, I realize that it all really isn’t THAT bad… really. I have a whole ton I should be thankful for… and at times (when the sun is shining, the air conditioner is blowing COOL air and I’m not in a Benadryl-induced sleeping fog), I really am a happy person. But, last night, my thoughts just totally sucked!!
Thank you for listening and caring about me and mine. Now, if you don’t mind, say a little prayer for all of us!
Bud slept until 3:00 that afternoon, then got up and showered, ready to start his day (meaning leave the house immediately, getting away from us and avoiding any work or chores). First, though, he wanted my debit card so he could fill his truck up with gas. At that point, Big Joz and I told the kids it was time to have a family discussion about finances. We are going to be following Dave Ramsey’s Total Money Makeover starting August 1. More on that later. Anyway, Bud was completely belligerent and defiant about this whole money discussion. One area that we specifically wanted and needed to discuss with him was how much our household spends on gasoline each month. He uses almost the same amount that Big Joz and I do together. Now, considering that we have J-O-B-S and he doesn’t (nor is he going to school this summer), that just doesn’t seem right to me AT ALL. Anyway, long story short, he ended up getting so angry, he yelled, cussed, called names and decided to become physical about his feelings and emotions. He left, on foot, and I haven’t heard from him since.
Big Joz texted him Sunday night and all day Monday, begging him to come home, but Bud simply stated there was no way he’d come home to a “f*ck^ng b#tch who didn’t give a sh@t about her son”. Big Joz suspended his phone service Monday night.
I have no idea where he is, who he is with or what he has been doing. The Mama in me worries constantly anyway and the last few days have been Hell. The Mama Joz in me is stubborn… let him stay gone, without a phone and a vehicle and an “endless” supply of financial support. He’s 18 years old and needs to learn a life lesson from all this. My house has stayed neat and tidy, my nerves haven’t been shot, my money hasn’t been spent carelessly. However, the Mama in me seems to be prevailing… and I want my son home.
2. My friend moved. I miss her immensely. When she moved, I lost not only my very dear friend, but my sister, my child, my housekeeper, my masseuse, my bartender, my dog sitter, my sous chef, my shadow. I know this is the best decision for all of us, but dang. I miss her. And I worry about her. Oh how I hope she takes this “last chance” and does something productive.
3. TMMO. Living on a budget. Having to say “no” to my children. Having to say “no” to Self. I don’t want to start polishing my own toenails. Damn, I have a hard enough time bending over to tie my shoes (on the rare occasions I wear something but flip flops)… but polishing my toes? And staying in the lines??
4. My marriage. After a very heated argument July 2, I left home and spent the next 48 hours in solitude; completely alone, evaluating my relationship with my husband (and the one we have with our son). The one condition on my coming home was that we start going to counseling. We have our 3rd appointment this afternoon. I love Big Joz with all my heart; he’s my best friend and he makes me laugh. We have fun together. We want to grow old together. He’s the one I want beside me when I rock my grandbabies. But, we aren’t on the same page with a few things (raising children, discipline, support and finances) and it’s very difficult for me right now.
5. My little Pud. Oh how that child worries me. Pud has absolutely ZERO concept of money! When we discussed the family budget, she guessed that our mortgage was $275 a month (of course, then she admitted that she really didn’t even know what a mortgage is); we spend $150 a month on food (groceries AND dining out) for our family of 4 and bless her heart, we spend a whopping $75 on gasoline every month for our three vehicles. WOW. She called me yesterday asking what I thought rent would be for an apartment on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. I guessed $2,000; she announced that she had found a bargain, then, because the 1 bedroom loft she found was ONLY $1,600!
All she wants in life is to be signed to Elite Model Agency. She has begged me to buy her pills which claim to increase your height (since she was told she needed to be at least 5’ 5”). She talks about us going to Miami as if it were on our calendar to leave tomorrow.
She has decided she needs a tutor so she can get lots of scholarships for her to go to school at NYU and major in fashion merchandising.
Once again, she has decided she doesn’t want to go to her private school because of all the drama. While NOT paying tuition again sounds oh so wonderful, TOUGH—make your decisions in life and deal with them. Life ain’t always rosy, sister. Trust me. So some of your friends are b%tch+s… you act like one sometimes, too!!
Well, that’s my life in a nutshell right now. Yes, it totally sucks… BUT, I know that these things, too, shall pass. When I look at things in perspective, I realize that it all really isn’t THAT bad… really. I have a whole ton I should be thankful for… and at times (when the sun is shining, the air conditioner is blowing COOL air and I’m not in a Benadryl-induced sleeping fog), I really am a happy person. But, last night, my thoughts just totally sucked!!
Thank you for listening and caring about me and mine. Now, if you don’t mind, say a little prayer for all of us!
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Enchiladas
Got this from a Pampered Chef customer several years ago.
Enchiladas
Sauce:
1 lg. can evaporated milk
1 can hot enchilada sauce
1 can Cream of Chicken soup
Mix together in medium saucepan. Cook on low until creamy.
Meat:
Cook 3-4 pounds ground chuck. Drain. Add two packages of taco seasoning, 1 can Rotel and 1 can refried beans. Add a little water if needed.
Cheese:
Shred 1-2 pounds Cheddar; set aside.
Take 18 corn tortillas. Dip one at a time in sauce and cover the bottom of 10x15 pan, add a layer of meat and cheese. Repeat until pan is full. Pour remaining sauce over pan before baking.
Bake at 325° until cheese is well melted (about 35-40 minutes). Do not overcook.
Optional: Top with lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, crushed tortilla chips, sour cream and hot sauce.
6/22/11--made for the first time; Big Joz loved it! It made a LOT of enchiladas!
Enchiladas
Sauce:
1 lg. can evaporated milk
1 can hot enchilada sauce
1 can Cream of Chicken soup
Mix together in medium saucepan. Cook on low until creamy.
Meat:
Cook 3-4 pounds ground chuck. Drain. Add two packages of taco seasoning, 1 can Rotel and 1 can refried beans. Add a little water if needed.
Cheese:
Shred 1-2 pounds Cheddar; set aside.
Take 18 corn tortillas. Dip one at a time in sauce and cover the bottom of 10x15 pan, add a layer of meat and cheese. Repeat until pan is full. Pour remaining sauce over pan before baking.
Bake at 325° until cheese is well melted (about 35-40 minutes). Do not overcook.
Optional: Top with lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, crushed tortilla chips, sour cream and hot sauce.
6/22/11--made for the first time; Big Joz loved it! It made a LOT of enchiladas!
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Caramel Cobbler
My neighbor, the Catfish Mama, gave me this recipe back in October 2009.
Caramel Cobbler
1 stick butter
1 1/2 c. self-rising flour
1 1/2 c. white granulated sugar
3/4 c. milk
1 1/2 t. vanilla
1 1/2 c. dark or light brown sugar
1 1/2 c. hot water
Melt butter and pour into 9x13 baking dish.
Mix together flour, white sugar, milk, and vanilla. Mix well. Pour in dish over butter. DO NOT STIR.
Sprinkle top with brown sugar. (Nuts optional) DO NOT STIR.
Pour hot water over all. DO NOT STIR.
Bake at 325° for 40 to 45 minutes or until crust is done.
Serve warm. Delicious with ice cream!
6/21/11—made for the first time. This is VERY rich!
Caramel Cobbler
1 stick butter
1 1/2 c. self-rising flour
1 1/2 c. white granulated sugar
3/4 c. milk
1 1/2 t. vanilla
1 1/2 c. dark or light brown sugar
1 1/2 c. hot water
Melt butter and pour into 9x13 baking dish.
Mix together flour, white sugar, milk, and vanilla. Mix well. Pour in dish over butter. DO NOT STIR.
Sprinkle top with brown sugar. (Nuts optional) DO NOT STIR.
Pour hot water over all. DO NOT STIR.
Bake at 325° for 40 to 45 minutes or until crust is done.
Serve warm. Delicious with ice cream!
6/21/11—made for the first time. This is VERY rich!
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Parmesan Chicken
Parmesan Chicken
1/2 c. butter or margarine, melted
2 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1/2 tsp. salt
1 c. dry bread crumbs
1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese
6 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
In a shallow bowl, combine butter, mustard, Worcestershire sauce and salt.
In a plastic bag, combine crumbs and cheese. Dip chicken in butter mixture, then shake in crumbs. Place in an ungreased 9x13 baking dish. Drizzle with remaining butter mixture. Bake at 350° for 40-45 minutes.
6/20/11—made this for the first time; it was really good! The chicken had a wonderful flavor and was very moist. No adjustments necessary. The original recipe called for 6 to 8 chicken breasts, but the ones I had were very big; I used 5. There was just enough of the butter mixture left for another breast, but there wouldn’t have been any to drizzle. The 5 breasts filled the 9x13 baking dish perfectly.
1/2 c. butter or margarine, melted
2 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1/2 tsp. salt
1 c. dry bread crumbs
1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese
6 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
In a shallow bowl, combine butter, mustard, Worcestershire sauce and salt.
In a plastic bag, combine crumbs and cheese. Dip chicken in butter mixture, then shake in crumbs. Place in an ungreased 9x13 baking dish. Drizzle with remaining butter mixture. Bake at 350° for 40-45 minutes.
6/20/11—made this for the first time; it was really good! The chicken had a wonderful flavor and was very moist. No adjustments necessary. The original recipe called for 6 to 8 chicken breasts, but the ones I had were very big; I used 5. There was just enough of the butter mixture left for another breast, but there wouldn’t have been any to drizzle. The 5 breasts filled the 9x13 baking dish perfectly.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Swedish Cabbage Rolls
Swedish Cabbage Rolls
12 large cabbage leaves
1 lb. lean ground beef
1 egg, beaten
1 c. cooked rice
¼ c. milk
¼ tsp. pepper
1 tsp. salt
¼ c. finely chopped onions
15 oz. tomato sauce
2 tsp. brown sugar
2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
2 T lemon juice
Immerse cabbage leaves in large kettle of salted boiling water for about 3 minutes or until limp; drain. Combine egg, milk, onion, salt, pepper, beef and cooked rice. Place about ¼ c. meat mixture in the center of each leaf; fold in sides and roll ends over the meat. Place in a crock pot.
Combine tomato sauce with brown sugar, lemon juice and Worcestershire sauce. Pour over cabbage rolls. Cover and cook on low 6 to 8 hours.
6/19/11—made this for the first time. They were pretty good. Make sure you have LARGE cabbage leaves!
12 large cabbage leaves
1 lb. lean ground beef
1 egg, beaten
1 c. cooked rice
¼ c. milk
¼ tsp. pepper
1 tsp. salt
¼ c. finely chopped onions
15 oz. tomato sauce
2 tsp. brown sugar
2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
2 T lemon juice
Immerse cabbage leaves in large kettle of salted boiling water for about 3 minutes or until limp; drain. Combine egg, milk, onion, salt, pepper, beef and cooked rice. Place about ¼ c. meat mixture in the center of each leaf; fold in sides and roll ends over the meat. Place in a crock pot.
Combine tomato sauce with brown sugar, lemon juice and Worcestershire sauce. Pour over cabbage rolls. Cover and cook on low 6 to 8 hours.
6/19/11—made this for the first time. They were pretty good. Make sure you have LARGE cabbage leaves!
Hot Chicken Dip
I have too many recipes. I've been a recipe clipper from way back. Last week, as I was trying to organize just a small portion of my very many, I began to get overwhelmed. I -- gasp-- actually threw some away!! I admit, I had never tried them, but at one time, those recipes appealed to me, for whatever reason.
I can't handle it anymore... I'm going to actually start trying and making recipes from my collection. I realize that I could literally try a new recipe every day for the next 20 years and not get through them all. Every day really isn't feasible, though, so I'm setting a lofty goal of trying at least new five recipes every week.
Each recipe will be posted here, along with notes about the recipe. Try them yourself and let me know your opinions also!
My cousin, Stacy Smith, emailed me this recipe in September 2007. She had said it was easy, and there's no arguing that point!
Hot Chicken Dip
1 can chicken, drained
1 can Cream of Mushroom soup
1 8 oz. pkg. cream cheese, softened
Mix together and bake at 350° for about 30 minutes or until bubbly around the edges.
This dip isn't very colorful at all; Big Joz said it looked like "Warm Sick". Nice, huh? It tasted pretty good, but I felt like it needed some extra seasoning or flavoring to boost it some. Next time, I'll add either some Lawry's seasoning salt and Crazy Jane's Mixed Up Seasoning Salt. Would also be good with some crab or bacon added to it. I scooped it onto Ritz crackers; Big Joz used tortilla chips. It was a nice little Friday night snack for the two of us.
I can't handle it anymore... I'm going to actually start trying and making recipes from my collection. I realize that I could literally try a new recipe every day for the next 20 years and not get through them all. Every day really isn't feasible, though, so I'm setting a lofty goal of trying at least new five recipes every week.
Each recipe will be posted here, along with notes about the recipe. Try them yourself and let me know your opinions also!
My cousin, Stacy Smith, emailed me this recipe in September 2007. She had said it was easy, and there's no arguing that point!
Hot Chicken Dip
1 can chicken, drained
1 can Cream of Mushroom soup
1 8 oz. pkg. cream cheese, softened
Mix together and bake at 350° for about 30 minutes or until bubbly around the edges.
This dip isn't very colorful at all; Big Joz said it looked like "Warm Sick". Nice, huh? It tasted pretty good, but I felt like it needed some extra seasoning or flavoring to boost it some. Next time, I'll add either some Lawry's seasoning salt and Crazy Jane's Mixed Up Seasoning Salt. Would also be good with some crab or bacon added to it. I scooped it onto Ritz crackers; Big Joz used tortilla chips. It was a nice little Friday night snack for the two of us.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
So You Think You Can Doula?
Well, yes, I think I can.
I have always been intrigued with childbirth. I remember being sick one day and instead of staying home from school, I went to work with my mom. She worked in the county health department--great place to take a sick kid! Anyway, one of the nurses let me watch a film called "The Story of Eric". Turns out, it was a 34 minute color documentary that follows a young mother through her first childbearing experience to help educate parents about the Lamaze method of childbirth.
It kind of freaked me out at the time because it showed, full-on, a live human birth. At the age of probably 8 or 9, I'm not so sure I was really ready to see that. But from that day on, I was hooked on the miracle of it all.
I had wonderful pregnancy, childbirth and delivery experiences. I had a great support system in Big Joz. Unfortunately, some women aren't that fortunate.
I learned during the time I was caring for my Grandpa that I really do believe I'm a good caretaker, moreso during times of more "need" or even stress... I can handle the tougher stuff pretty well, I think.
The thought of becoming a doula is a relatively new one, meaning that I haven't grown up thinking about it. But in the last few months, several factors have played into what's become my decision to purse doula certification.
My biological clock has been ticking... loudly... for at least a couple of years. Given that I had my tubes tied, cut, burnt, etc. 15 years ago, I ain't havin' no more babies!! I did, however, give serious thought to having my tubal reversed. Big Joz never really thought that was a great idea, however. And in all honesty, the thought of going through potty training again... YUK!!
With Bud graduating from high school this spring and looking ahead to his future, there have been lots of discussions about "what to do with your life". I remember when I was his age, I gave a lot of thought into wanting to pursue a career in culinary arts. Yes, I wanted to go to cooking school. Seemed a great thing to do... except that it was VERY expensive, it was VERY far away from home and no one had ever done anything like that before. Well, no one I knew. No one from my little town. So, I didn't. I chose the path more traveled and went to regular college like everyone else. When Bud and I went to register him for college, I began to wonder if it was too late for me to try something new.
Last December when my Chocolate Lab safely delivered 10 beautiful, healthy puppies, I very much felt like I couldn't do enough for her to help her with her own miracle of birth. I felt like Hershey and I did a great job together!
Given my love of babies and everything that goes along with getting them here and given my thought that I CAN be a good caretaker, why not try this doula thing?
I LOVE my current job as a church secretary... can't imagine not being here. So I'm not looking to replace my job or my income by any means, I just want to try something that will allow me to help other women have the same positive childbirth and labor experiences I did. I want to be a support for other mothers. I want to help babies come into the world.
So, it's Wednesday. Sunday night, I joined DONA (Doulas of North America) International. Monday, I ordered four of the five required reading books (the 5th one wasn't available at the time). I also ordered my certification packet on Monday; it contains all the forms I'll need to complete to become a certified doula. Yesterday, I registered for the required childbirth class, the Doula workshop and the breastfeeding classes that are all requirements as well. I'm well on my way, I guess... I just need to find some expectant moms who are willing to allow me to attend their births now...
Family reactions to my doula-ism has been interesting. Big Joz listened, then asked several questions--several really good questions. After I answered them as honestly as I knew how at the time, he told me he thought I would be a good doula. Bud and Pud? They don't want to know a thing about it... it's gross!
When I called my dad to tell him I was going to become a doula, he, of course, had no idea what a doula is, so I explained to him that I would provide non-medical support to an expectant mother during childbirth and delivery. He still didn't quite get it. I then told him that I was going to be like Mama (his paternal grandmother). Mama was called a "midwife", although she had no medical training... she probably attended more births during her time than the local doctors! If only I could be adored as Mama was! Oh, Daddy did say he'd love to know more about the breastfeeding class.
My Mimi (Daddy's mother) seemed to be very pleased when I told her about my plans. She assured me that she knew I would be successful at anything I set my mind to. She saw the care I gave Grandpa; she knows how I love babies. Her blessing is very important to me.
Mother? Well, she thinks I'm going to medical school because I'm pregnant....
I have always been intrigued with childbirth. I remember being sick one day and instead of staying home from school, I went to work with my mom. She worked in the county health department--great place to take a sick kid! Anyway, one of the nurses let me watch a film called "The Story of Eric". Turns out, it was a 34 minute color documentary that follows a young mother through her first childbearing experience to help educate parents about the Lamaze method of childbirth.
It kind of freaked me out at the time because it showed, full-on, a live human birth. At the age of probably 8 or 9, I'm not so sure I was really ready to see that. But from that day on, I was hooked on the miracle of it all.
I had wonderful pregnancy, childbirth and delivery experiences. I had a great support system in Big Joz. Unfortunately, some women aren't that fortunate.
I learned during the time I was caring for my Grandpa that I really do believe I'm a good caretaker, moreso during times of more "need" or even stress... I can handle the tougher stuff pretty well, I think.
The thought of becoming a doula is a relatively new one, meaning that I haven't grown up thinking about it. But in the last few months, several factors have played into what's become my decision to purse doula certification.
My biological clock has been ticking... loudly... for at least a couple of years. Given that I had my tubes tied, cut, burnt, etc. 15 years ago, I ain't havin' no more babies!! I did, however, give serious thought to having my tubal reversed. Big Joz never really thought that was a great idea, however. And in all honesty, the thought of going through potty training again... YUK!!
With Bud graduating from high school this spring and looking ahead to his future, there have been lots of discussions about "what to do with your life". I remember when I was his age, I gave a lot of thought into wanting to pursue a career in culinary arts. Yes, I wanted to go to cooking school. Seemed a great thing to do... except that it was VERY expensive, it was VERY far away from home and no one had ever done anything like that before. Well, no one I knew. No one from my little town. So, I didn't. I chose the path more traveled and went to regular college like everyone else. When Bud and I went to register him for college, I began to wonder if it was too late for me to try something new.
Last December when my Chocolate Lab safely delivered 10 beautiful, healthy puppies, I very much felt like I couldn't do enough for her to help her with her own miracle of birth. I felt like Hershey and I did a great job together!
Given my love of babies and everything that goes along with getting them here and given my thought that I CAN be a good caretaker, why not try this doula thing?
I LOVE my current job as a church secretary... can't imagine not being here. So I'm not looking to replace my job or my income by any means, I just want to try something that will allow me to help other women have the same positive childbirth and labor experiences I did. I want to be a support for other mothers. I want to help babies come into the world.
So, it's Wednesday. Sunday night, I joined DONA (Doulas of North America) International. Monday, I ordered four of the five required reading books (the 5th one wasn't available at the time). I also ordered my certification packet on Monday; it contains all the forms I'll need to complete to become a certified doula. Yesterday, I registered for the required childbirth class, the Doula workshop and the breastfeeding classes that are all requirements as well. I'm well on my way, I guess... I just need to find some expectant moms who are willing to allow me to attend their births now...
Family reactions to my doula-ism has been interesting. Big Joz listened, then asked several questions--several really good questions. After I answered them as honestly as I knew how at the time, he told me he thought I would be a good doula. Bud and Pud? They don't want to know a thing about it... it's gross!
When I called my dad to tell him I was going to become a doula, he, of course, had no idea what a doula is, so I explained to him that I would provide non-medical support to an expectant mother during childbirth and delivery. He still didn't quite get it. I then told him that I was going to be like Mama (his paternal grandmother). Mama was called a "midwife", although she had no medical training... she probably attended more births during her time than the local doctors! If only I could be adored as Mama was! Oh, Daddy did say he'd love to know more about the breastfeeding class.
My Mimi (Daddy's mother) seemed to be very pleased when I told her about my plans. She assured me that she knew I would be successful at anything I set my mind to. She saw the care I gave Grandpa; she knows how I love babies. Her blessing is very important to me.
Mother? Well, she thinks I'm going to medical school because I'm pregnant....
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Laundry Rules
PAJAMAS—Do not put pajamas in the dirty clothes after only one wear. It is a scientific fact that you do not get dirty while you sleep. Pajamas can be worn many times before they smell bad enough to warrant being thrown in the dirty clothes. Exception: You may put pajamas in the dirty clothes if you throw up on them or something else that may be deemed disgusting, but only if they stink. When you get dressed in the mornings, fold your pajamas and put them back in the drawer—make it a habit.
SOCKS—Unroll them and turn them right side out before putting them in the dirty clothes. Otherwise, I will wash and dry them in their original rolled up little balls. By the way, they do not actually get clean in this way.
HANGING CLOTHES—Clean clothes can be easily removed from the clothes rod by gently lifting up on the hanger and pulling towards you. The wrong way to remove clean clothes is to yank on one corner of the garment. This causes the hanger to go flying around the clothes rod, becoming impossibly entangled with the neighboring hangers. If a hanger happens to fall to the bottom of the closet floor, do not leave it there; hang it on your bedroom doorknob if you can’t reach the clothes rod.
SORTING DIRTY CLOTHES—When you so nicely bring your clothes to the laundry room to sort, be sure and actually put them in the laundry baskets that are provided for you. Don’t merely throw them in the general vicinity of the correct basket; make sure they’re all the way inside that basket.
POCKETS—Empty your own pockets before you put dirty clothes in the laundry. Any money found later will be claimed by the laundress (Mom) and will not be returned to the rightful owner. Same goes for candy, wrappers, toys, etc—to the trash it goes.
FOLDED CLOTHES—When those clean clothes miraculously appear on your bed or chair, graciously thank the saintly person who lovingly placed them there and put them away!
LAUNDRY SHARING—In the future, each of you will be asked to help do about one load of laundry a week. Instructions will be provided. Mom feels that the joy of this chore should be shared, and she’s been very selfish about this in the past. She also feels that this is a necessary life skill, and without it you may not ever want to leave home. This would not be in the best interest of any family members.
Rules may be added or modified at any time by Mom.
I, ____________________, agree to abide by the above rules, as I actually have no choice in the matter and do not wish to further anger Mom.
I, ____________________, agree to abide by the above rules, as I actually have no choice in the matter and do not wish to further anger Mom.
March 18, 2002
SOCKS—Unroll them and turn them right side out before putting them in the dirty clothes. Otherwise, I will wash and dry them in their original rolled up little balls. By the way, they do not actually get clean in this way.
HANGING CLOTHES—Clean clothes can be easily removed from the clothes rod by gently lifting up on the hanger and pulling towards you. The wrong way to remove clean clothes is to yank on one corner of the garment. This causes the hanger to go flying around the clothes rod, becoming impossibly entangled with the neighboring hangers. If a hanger happens to fall to the bottom of the closet floor, do not leave it there; hang it on your bedroom doorknob if you can’t reach the clothes rod.
SORTING DIRTY CLOTHES—When you so nicely bring your clothes to the laundry room to sort, be sure and actually put them in the laundry baskets that are provided for you. Don’t merely throw them in the general vicinity of the correct basket; make sure they’re all the way inside that basket.
POCKETS—Empty your own pockets before you put dirty clothes in the laundry. Any money found later will be claimed by the laundress (Mom) and will not be returned to the rightful owner. Same goes for candy, wrappers, toys, etc—to the trash it goes.
FOLDED CLOTHES—When those clean clothes miraculously appear on your bed or chair, graciously thank the saintly person who lovingly placed them there and put them away!
LAUNDRY SHARING—In the future, each of you will be asked to help do about one load of laundry a week. Instructions will be provided. Mom feels that the joy of this chore should be shared, and she’s been very selfish about this in the past. She also feels that this is a necessary life skill, and without it you may not ever want to leave home. This would not be in the best interest of any family members.
Rules may be added or modified at any time by Mom.
I, ____________________, agree to abide by the above rules, as I actually have no choice in the matter and do not wish to further anger Mom.
I, ____________________, agree to abide by the above rules, as I actually have no choice in the matter and do not wish to further anger Mom.
March 18, 2002
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Heavy Heart
Last night was tough at our house... and today, I've had a very heavy heart.
When I got home from work, I let Hershey, our Chocolate Lab, and the puppies out to potty. The puppies are Peanut and Luke, two of the puppies she gave birth to seven weeks ago today; and also Brenda, now known as Rosetta who we have been puppysitting for. Brenda/Rosetta is a sister to Peanut and Luke.
Hershey trotted right out the gate; the puppies tried to follow suit, but I headed them off and closed the gate so they wouldn't escape. I came back in the house and proceeded to fix a nice Valentine's meal for my family.
Big Joz got home around 6:15 and one of the first questions he asked me was where his brown dog was. I told him that I had let her out earlier but, come to think of it, hadn't seen her since. It was unusual for her not to go running to greet his truck when he pulled up.
We ate supper on the couch and a couple of different times talked about where Hershey might be. We were watching the Westminster Dog Show on tv. Bud and Pud wanted to try out the new yogurt place in town that was having its grand opening, so I gave them my debit card and off they went. They returned about 8:30.
Bud ran in the house screaming something about Hershey. My gut told me something was bad wrong... I thought she had been attacked by another animal and that her wounded body must be laying in the driveway. It took me a second to take in what had happened.
Big Joz fumbled to get her collar off so he could remove her cold, stiff body from the picket fence. Cold? Stiff? How long had she been there??
Big Joz laid her on the driveway and I noticed a little blood; her eyes were still open. I had hope that she really wasn't gone.
Hershey had tried to jump over the fence, back into the back yard. I'll never know what time it happened... I never heard a thing. She didn't make it over the fence; her collar got hung on one of the pickets. She must have struggled hard... the pickets on either side of where she hung had been chewed in half. She tried to set herself free... but she couldn't get to the picket that was holding her up. In the daylight, I saw the scratch and claw marks on the fence. My heart just broke. Our sweet "Bwown Dod" had struggled for her life... right outside our back door.
Big Joz laid beside his faithful friend and cried like a baby as he held her. My heart just ached for him. I asked him what we were going to do with her and he said he was going to bury her in the woods, up the hill beside the driveway, a place where she and Ben spent lots of time running around and frolicking. I asked if he needed any help and he just shook his head no. He got a shovel and headed into the woods. Moments later, I saw Bud headed up the hill with a shovel in his hand... he was going to help his dad.
I went inside and got the sleeping bag that had been in the whelping box with Hershey and her babies just weeks before. I took it outside and stretched it out to wrap her up in. Big Joz carefully laid her on the sleeping bag and we began to roll her up... Ben kept poking his head in the bundle, as if he couldn't figure out why we would be wrapping her up. Big Joz laid her in the grave he and Bud had dug for her and, again, Ben acted like he just couldn't figure out what we were doing. Big Joz laid her collar on her and we all cried as he and Bud filled in the grave.
My children had never buried a pet. They don't remember Annabel. Big Joz gave her to me for my birthday the first year we were married. She died five years later, on my birthday.
I asked God to watch over our "Bwown Dod" and we all cried. Ben didn't want to leave her.
We all have felt guilt... I was the one who closed the gate. I was the one who didn't hear her struggle. When Big Joz came home from work, he walked right past where she had been. I know she must have been there then, because if she hadn't, she wouldn't have come running. If she had still been alive, he would have heard or seen her struggling. When Bud came home, he took the trash can down and returned the recycling bin to its place... right beside where she had been. He never saw her either. She was dark brown... against the reddish brown fence... it was dark outside. It was understandable. I think Pud's guilty feelings come from her always saying she never liked Hershey... I think she was simply jealous--Pud's daddy really loved Hershey and Pud didn't want to share!
I'm going to miss her. The way she always made a huge mess when she ate because she was always in a hurry; the way she lifted the toilet lids and drank out of the toilets; the way she loved her kennel before the puppies were born; the way she hogged the foot of the bed after the babies were born; the way she would bark when she didn't know why she was barking... she simply barked because Ben did; the way she'd jump in Big Joz's truck when she was ready to go somewhere; the way she'd jump in my car when she was very pregnant with the puppies so she wouldn't have to stay by herself; the way she was SUCH an attention whore... if ANYONE was getting love, she had to make sure she got her share as well; the way Ben would trick her to go outside so she'd leave him alone. There's so much I'm going to miss.
Hershey, we were blessed to have you in our family these last 13 1/2 months. I hope you knew how much you were loved.
When I got home from work, I let Hershey, our Chocolate Lab, and the puppies out to potty. The puppies are Peanut and Luke, two of the puppies she gave birth to seven weeks ago today; and also Brenda, now known as Rosetta who we have been puppysitting for. Brenda/Rosetta is a sister to Peanut and Luke.
Hershey trotted right out the gate; the puppies tried to follow suit, but I headed them off and closed the gate so they wouldn't escape. I came back in the house and proceeded to fix a nice Valentine's meal for my family.
Big Joz got home around 6:15 and one of the first questions he asked me was where his brown dog was. I told him that I had let her out earlier but, come to think of it, hadn't seen her since. It was unusual for her not to go running to greet his truck when he pulled up.
We ate supper on the couch and a couple of different times talked about where Hershey might be. We were watching the Westminster Dog Show on tv. Bud and Pud wanted to try out the new yogurt place in town that was having its grand opening, so I gave them my debit card and off they went. They returned about 8:30.
Bud ran in the house screaming something about Hershey. My gut told me something was bad wrong... I thought she had been attacked by another animal and that her wounded body must be laying in the driveway. It took me a second to take in what had happened.
Big Joz fumbled to get her collar off so he could remove her cold, stiff body from the picket fence. Cold? Stiff? How long had she been there??
Big Joz laid her on the driveway and I noticed a little blood; her eyes were still open. I had hope that she really wasn't gone.
Hershey had tried to jump over the fence, back into the back yard. I'll never know what time it happened... I never heard a thing. She didn't make it over the fence; her collar got hung on one of the pickets. She must have struggled hard... the pickets on either side of where she hung had been chewed in half. She tried to set herself free... but she couldn't get to the picket that was holding her up. In the daylight, I saw the scratch and claw marks on the fence. My heart just broke. Our sweet "Bwown Dod" had struggled for her life... right outside our back door.
Big Joz laid beside his faithful friend and cried like a baby as he held her. My heart just ached for him. I asked him what we were going to do with her and he said he was going to bury her in the woods, up the hill beside the driveway, a place where she and Ben spent lots of time running around and frolicking. I asked if he needed any help and he just shook his head no. He got a shovel and headed into the woods. Moments later, I saw Bud headed up the hill with a shovel in his hand... he was going to help his dad.
I went inside and got the sleeping bag that had been in the whelping box with Hershey and her babies just weeks before. I took it outside and stretched it out to wrap her up in. Big Joz carefully laid her on the sleeping bag and we began to roll her up... Ben kept poking his head in the bundle, as if he couldn't figure out why we would be wrapping her up. Big Joz laid her in the grave he and Bud had dug for her and, again, Ben acted like he just couldn't figure out what we were doing. Big Joz laid her collar on her and we all cried as he and Bud filled in the grave.
My children had never buried a pet. They don't remember Annabel. Big Joz gave her to me for my birthday the first year we were married. She died five years later, on my birthday.
I asked God to watch over our "Bwown Dod" and we all cried. Ben didn't want to leave her.
We all have felt guilt... I was the one who closed the gate. I was the one who didn't hear her struggle. When Big Joz came home from work, he walked right past where she had been. I know she must have been there then, because if she hadn't, she wouldn't have come running. If she had still been alive, he would have heard or seen her struggling. When Bud came home, he took the trash can down and returned the recycling bin to its place... right beside where she had been. He never saw her either. She was dark brown... against the reddish brown fence... it was dark outside. It was understandable. I think Pud's guilty feelings come from her always saying she never liked Hershey... I think she was simply jealous--Pud's daddy really loved Hershey and Pud didn't want to share!
I'm going to miss her. The way she always made a huge mess when she ate because she was always in a hurry; the way she lifted the toilet lids and drank out of the toilets; the way she loved her kennel before the puppies were born; the way she hogged the foot of the bed after the babies were born; the way she would bark when she didn't know why she was barking... she simply barked because Ben did; the way she'd jump in Big Joz's truck when she was ready to go somewhere; the way she'd jump in my car when she was very pregnant with the puppies so she wouldn't have to stay by herself; the way she was SUCH an attention whore... if ANYONE was getting love, she had to make sure she got her share as well; the way Ben would trick her to go outside so she'd leave him alone. There's so much I'm going to miss.
Hershey, we were blessed to have you in our family these last 13 1/2 months. I hope you knew how much you were loved.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Valentine Surprise
When I woke up and stumbled into the bathroom this morning, on my vanity laid a hot pink piece of paper, folded in half, with a white sheet of paper folded inside it. On the outside was written "Mom" with a heart drawn beside it and "Happy Valentine's Day!" underneath it.
What was this? A handwritten valentine from one of my children?
Inside, in my daughter's teenage handwriting:
Happy Valentine's Day!
Mom, on valetine's day I am reminded
that no one in my life
gives more love than you do.
You care so deeply and give so much;
without you,
I couldn't be the person I am.
Your encouragement and support
make everything possible,
because I know
you'll always be there for me,
to cheer me up, to comfort me,
to give me a boost when I need it.
On valentine's day, I want you to know
that I love you, I appreciate you, and
I am so blessed that you are
my mother! have a Great Day.
My Valentine's Day is complete... my daughter loves me...
What was this? A handwritten valentine from one of my children?
Inside, in my daughter's teenage handwriting:
Happy Valentine's Day!
Mom, on valetine's day I am reminded
that no one in my life
gives more love than you do.
You care so deeply and give so much;
without you,
I couldn't be the person I am.
Your encouragement and support
make everything possible,
because I know
you'll always be there for me,
to cheer me up, to comfort me,
to give me a boost when I need it.
On valentine's day, I want you to know
that I love you, I appreciate you, and
I am so blessed that you are
my mother! have a Great Day.
My Valentine's Day is complete... my daughter loves me...
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Thinking of a friend
Wrote this today to a friend and found it extremely cathartic...
Last August when Grandpa went in the hospital, I knew he was dying. I chose to be a part of the process, to help him (and me) with the transition. I spent every night in the hospital with him, and every night in the nursing home when I was "home" once he was moved there. Anyway, during that time I was with him, I made sure he knew how much I loved him and respected him, and also how much I was going to miss him. We talked about what life would be like without him. And I promise you, it's hard. I have tears running down my face right now just thinking about it.
During that time, I learned a lot about myself. I knew what I was capable of and what others expected of me. Mimi was physically and emotionally exhausted. Daddy & my uncle were more or less removed from the situation. My brothers knew they could depend on me to do any and everything. I gladly did all I could for the first man I ever loved.
Believe me, helping him use a bedpan and bedside urinal were definitely difficult at first. Having to help clean him up after he had soiled the bed was uncomfortable in the beginning. All his dignity was gone, but he knew he had my respect... that mutual understanding got us both through a lot.
When he didn't want to go to the dining room to eat, I made a big fuss over encouraging him to do that, because I knew the old Grandpa needed that interaction with other people. And once he got there, he enjoyed himself. I encouraged him to eat, I encouraged him to laugh, and I encouraged him to face what was coming head on.
I was with him when he died... I felt such a peace... I was very surprised at how I handled myself then and in the coming days. I stayed with him until the funeral home picked him up; I was the one who suggested we go ahead and clean out his room so that we wouldn't have to go back. At the funeral home, Daddy and my uncle looked to me to answer all the details and pick out what we wanted. At the flower shop, they once again depended on me to handle everything. Mimi had already asked me to speak at his funeral. Even in the days (and months) that have followed, my "job" wasn't over... I wrote all the thank you notes for the flowers, food, memorials, etc. I helped Mimi get all legal stuff taken care of; I cleaned out his bedroom and closet.
Not only did I do it all, I did it well. I know that I was able to do all that I did for one main reason: I knew I had others depending on me to be the strong one; I felt very honored that I was the "chosen" one.
Last August when Grandpa went in the hospital, I knew he was dying. I chose to be a part of the process, to help him (and me) with the transition. I spent every night in the hospital with him, and every night in the nursing home when I was "home" once he was moved there. Anyway, during that time I was with him, I made sure he knew how much I loved him and respected him, and also how much I was going to miss him. We talked about what life would be like without him. And I promise you, it's hard. I have tears running down my face right now just thinking about it.
During that time, I learned a lot about myself. I knew what I was capable of and what others expected of me. Mimi was physically and emotionally exhausted. Daddy & my uncle were more or less removed from the situation. My brothers knew they could depend on me to do any and everything. I gladly did all I could for the first man I ever loved.
Believe me, helping him use a bedpan and bedside urinal were definitely difficult at first. Having to help clean him up after he had soiled the bed was uncomfortable in the beginning. All his dignity was gone, but he knew he had my respect... that mutual understanding got us both through a lot.
When he didn't want to go to the dining room to eat, I made a big fuss over encouraging him to do that, because I knew the old Grandpa needed that interaction with other people. And once he got there, he enjoyed himself. I encouraged him to eat, I encouraged him to laugh, and I encouraged him to face what was coming head on.
I was with him when he died... I felt such a peace... I was very surprised at how I handled myself then and in the coming days. I stayed with him until the funeral home picked him up; I was the one who suggested we go ahead and clean out his room so that we wouldn't have to go back. At the funeral home, Daddy and my uncle looked to me to answer all the details and pick out what we wanted. At the flower shop, they once again depended on me to handle everything. Mimi had already asked me to speak at his funeral. Even in the days (and months) that have followed, my "job" wasn't over... I wrote all the thank you notes for the flowers, food, memorials, etc. I helped Mimi get all legal stuff taken care of; I cleaned out his bedroom and closet.
Not only did I do it all, I did it well. I know that I was able to do all that I did for one main reason: I knew I had others depending on me to be the strong one; I felt very honored that I was the "chosen" one.
Friday, January 14, 2011
I'm a Little Behind
Funny, when I read that title again, it makes me think that I'm trying to say I'm a small ass. I really just mean to say that it's been entirely too long since I've posted here. Lots of things have taken place since my last entry... and I really need to remedy that. I KNOW you miss hearing from me!
For now, here's a quick rundown of updates:
I have become a surrogate mother to 10 puppies.
A one-year old stitch has been removed from my breast.
My 85-year-old grandmother is on Facebook.
Pud has posed "half-naked" for a strange man/fashion photographer from South Beach.
Bud wants to join the Marines.
Big Joz has found the Lord.
Mother has a new lease on life, thanks to a combo pacemaker/defibrillator.
My father is engaged yet again.
The half-breed still lives with us.
One thing that hasn't changed... I still live and enjoy a crazy and blessed life! Happy 2011!
For now, here's a quick rundown of updates:
I have become a surrogate mother to 10 puppies.
A one-year old stitch has been removed from my breast.
My 85-year-old grandmother is on Facebook.
Pud has posed "half-naked" for a strange man/fashion photographer from South Beach.
Bud wants to join the Marines.
Big Joz has found the Lord.
Mother has a new lease on life, thanks to a combo pacemaker/defibrillator.
My father is engaged yet again.
The half-breed still lives with us.
One thing that hasn't changed... I still live and enjoy a crazy and blessed life! Happy 2011!
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