I'm From

i’ve seen this on others’ blogs and i loved it.  it will be a work in progress, added to as i think of new stuff. 

collecting cicada shells with my cousins, hearing their songs in the evening.  chasing lightening bugs ”there’s one!”  “where?”  “there! no, wait.  over there!”  hearing whipporwills as the sun goes down.  watching turtles lay eggs and waiting for them to hatch.  killing copperheads with the hoe.

i’m from tomatoes in the garden every year.  5 gallon buckets of cucumbers and tomatoes in the kitchen.  pickling jars lined up on the counter.  dill pickles.  little whole sweet pickles.  bread and butter pickles.  cucumbers and onions in vinegar and sugar.  tomato juice.  canned tomatoes.  homemade rotel frozen for winter in tupperware.  fresh tomatoes with mixed ranch dressing on top.  digging potatoes out of the dirt with worms crawling around.

i’m from a house and yard always in process of something.  homemade brick paths.  homemade wooden decks.  hand-laid wood floors.  ripping up carpet.  hanging wall-paper.

i’m from fishing in the spring.  eating fresh-caught crappie with smothered potatoes and onions. 

i’m from “sit still, gal.”  “sally goodin’”  “sally ann”  “whatcha think this is?  your birthday?”  “you can do anything you put your mind to.”  “when you think you can’t go any further, then you go some more.”  “when you start something you finish it.”  “you’re as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”  “don’t get in a piss fight with a skunk.”  “get up, girl, we’ve got people to see, places to go, and things to do.”  “turn out those lights when you leave the room.”  “hey, hollywood.”

i’m from summer vacations every year.  the beach, the mountains, washington, d.c.  laying out in the sun to “get a tan.” 

i’m from a city girl and a country boy.  i’m from a teacher and an ap&l man.  notes in my lunch bag.  long afternoons at school with my mama.  being allowed to make bulletin boards for her and help grade papers.

i’m from sledding down hills on “sleds” made of cardboard boxes.  a playhouse made from an old metal building.  a dollhouse made with the same interior as my own house.  learning my multiplication tables with daddy at the kitchen table.  making a “robot” out of “burple” containers, spools of thread, tinfoil, and a roll-around shelf. 

i’m from neapolitan ice cream at my grandmother’s house.  avoiding horse racing season because of the traffic.  mcclard’s barbeque.   orange julius.

i’m from drinking coffee with cream and sugar in the mornings with my mama and daddy.  homemade biscuits and gravy in the mornin’s.  fried bologna and fried weinies and fried eggs.

i’m from willie, waylon, and the boys.  watching the cosby show as a family.  watching the miss america pageant every year and picking our favorite.  falling asleep on my daddy’s chest while football played every weekend.  rooting for the hogs.  talking football before the games.  keeping up with news and current events and who’s running for president.

i’m from taking clothes in from the line.  listening to the swish, swish sound of my daddy polishing his shoes at the end of his bed in the mornings.  listening to the spray-hiss of my daddy starching and ironing his clothes.

i’m from organization.  containers for everything. 

i’m from fish in aquariums.  hamsters in cages.  dogs outside.  cats.  always cats. 

i’m from picking blackberries when it’s hot.  eating them off the vine.  savoring blackberry cobbler warm from the oven. 

i’m from shaking the popcorn around in a pan of oil on the stove.  yelling, “i’ll get it!” when the phone rings and trying to beat my sister to it.  walking around the kitchen twirling the phone cord on my fingers while talking.  taking the first cordless phone down the driveway to see “how far it will go.”  commodore 64/128 and printers that make so much noise when they print out a banner for a birthday.

i’m from exploring the woods.  playing with frogs.  picking ticks off the dogs.  chasing lizards.

Where I Relapsed Into A First Time Mom Again

September 6th, 2007

 don’t get offended it’s just a simple truth (most of the time, anyway) that first-time mom’s are a little more “over the top” shall we say, when it comes to over-analyzing their newborn’s every move than a mom who has 4 children.

 but i did it. 

i actually googled “6 month old not rolling over” 

yes, i really did.

even though i know logically that he is capable of doing it.  i have seen him go from belly to back once or twice.  and my mama-sense wasn’t telling me anything was wrong.  and i have 3 others who have met all of their milestones at completely different times.  and he technically has about a week and a half left before he’s 6 months old.  but i thought back to my first child and pondered that he was crawling by about 7 months and walking by 10 months.  and after the pediatrician already moved the milestone to 6 months from 4 months since my last child was this age and he still wasn’t meeting it, i went looking for other mamas who had worried about their little ones.  and i found what i knew i would find.  what i would tell any first-time mama who asked me the same question.  “he’s fine.  be patient.  every child is different.  you can’t compare kids.  he’ll do it.” 

and today i found him in the playpen in a position i didn’t leave him in.  on his belly.

Yeah, So The Other Day...

September 4th, 2007

i got an actual migraine, puked for hours, and called my husband to come home from work and take care of the kids.

and what brought this on, you ask?

a trip to walmart with 4 small children.  ok, so not just that.  but that was the next to last stop in a 6 hour trip to town.  and ironically, the last stop was to get my zoloft.  yeah, you can laugh.  or judge.  i don’t really care after that trip.

it all started because we needed milk.  so, i decided to “run” to town.  oh, and we need diapers and wipes.  i need to pick up my meds.  “could you get the oil changed while you’re in town?”  and since i’m already out, maybe i could take the kids to the playland as a treat.  throw in a sonic stop, a potty-training toddler and a nursing baby and six hours later i’m growling at my kids in walmart and walking into the new small-town pharmacy completely oblivious to the mama-milk so attractively leaking through my shirt; raving to the pharmacy tech about how i just saved $40.00 on zoloft!

who wouldn’t puke?