Life down here on earth

Happy Birthday, Jack!

Today is Jack's birthday. He is eight years old now. Sheesh, how did that happen?

So, eight years ago today (actually yesterday), while I was in early labor,  I told Greg that it was okay if he went to a business dinner. Early in our marriage I tried really hard not to be "that kind" of wife who was all whiny and needy and I stoically said, "Go! I'll be fine!" And so Greg went.

That was a big mistake. Labor immediately got worse and I spent my time ironing sheets for the guest room and cursing Greg for even asking if he could go. Honestly, who says to a woman in labor, "It's a really important dinner, do you mind if I go?" 

This story dovetails nicely with the one where Greg drops me off at the emergency room to get stitches while he runs home to mow the lawn before it starts to rain. Only in this story, we were both stupid. He should have never asked and I should have never said yes. In fact, Greg called during dinner to make sure everything was okay and I winced in pain as I said, "Oh no, honey, everything is fine." What an idiot.

Eventually, Greg came home and I stopped throwing up long enough to get to the hospital and Jack was born few hours later at 4:12 am.  It's a good thing the hospital didn't know how stupid we were or they might not have let us take him home.  Lucky for us, any idiot can be a parent.

Tornado warning

I forgot to tell y'all that we had a tornado warning Sunday night. Vestiges of Hurricane Rita. It totally ruined my Tivo recording of Desperate Housewives. Large chunks of the episode have no audio and lots of beeping.

I watched as the warnings got closer and closer to our area. Then we heard the sirens and decided to get the kids out of bed. We don't have a basement, so we tucked our precious babies, the kids and the laptop, into Greg's closet.

It's funny, because you feel kindof stupid, like you're overreacting, when the tornado is way over there and you're way over here and it's not really a tornado at all but just some sortof "rotation" on the radar. But I figure you'd feel more stupid if your roof ripped off and your kids blew away because you didn't want to wake them up.

Greg and I stayed out and watched the weather reports on TV some more. Greg doesn't have any childhood memories of huddling in the elementary school hallway doing "duck and cover" while sirens blared outside, and he's prone to doing stupid weather related things, i.e. standing outside in a lightning storm or driving 40 miles during a snow emergency for hockey gloves. So I knew he wouldn't go to the closet. I told him if he heard anything that sounded like a train to run.

Side note: I've never been close enough to a tornado to know if it actually sounds like a train, but that's what the folks on the news reports always say. I once saw a news story about a car being hit by a train and a woman nearby said, "It sounded just like a tornado!" So I guess it works both ways.

The warning ended a short time later and the kids went back to bed and hardly seemed to notice that they'd been bothered. I think that Sam never actually woke up at all.

Football Lessons

So I'm realizing that I really missed out by growing up a girl and not getting to play football or any other manly-man macho type sport. We spend about 7 hours a week at football and I'm learning a lot. Here's what I've learned so far:

1. Size is just a frame of mind

Small kid:  That other team looks pretty big.
Coach: We're just gonna have to be bigger! I want you to play 7 foot today!

2. Something is better than nothing.

Coach: Remember how we talked about nothin' and somethin'? Well, that second half was really somethin'. If you'd played like that in the first half, we'd have only lost 12-0.

3.You can't use sports metaphors in sports, because, well, then they're not metaphors. You have to rely on something else.

Coach:  WHO ARE WE?
Team:   BLAZE!!
Coach:  WHO ARE WE?
Team:   BLAZE!!
Coach:  ONE BAND!
Team:   ONE SOUND!!

( I love, love, love the irony of football players using a band metaphor, but that's just the band geek in me.)

4. Sports metaphors are, however, good for every other aspect of your life.

*kids fighting*
Me: Jack, Sam, y'all need to try harder to get along and work together. You're both on the same team, you know.
Jack and Sam: Uh, yeah.
Me: Say it with me now, ONE TEAM! ONE DREAM!
Jack and Sam: ...

Quirky, but endearing

Friday was our tenth anniversary. Wow.  Time really flies, huh? It really doesn't feel like that long. (It feels like longer! *rim shot* bwahaha!) But seriously folks, I never imagined being married this long. Although I never imagined not being married this long either. I guess I just never thought about it much. *shrugs*

I suppose this is the spot for a long, sappy post about how wonderful it's been and how happy we are. We are happy, but I just don't have it in me for sappy today. So instead, I give you a picture of our gift to ourselves. Actually, we were buying it anyway, but I feel less guilty about spending the money if I call it an anniversary gift.

Behold! Our new plasma TV.

In all the years we've been married, we never bought a TV until now. We had three TVs between us, my 16-year-old 26-inch Sony being the newest of the lot.  Now things will trickle down and we can finally get rid of the old 19-incher in Greg's office that can't hold a signal. You have to turn it off and back on again at least every ten minutes to get the picture back. We've been turning it off and on again for years. It's funny how you get used to things and their odd quirks become endearing.

That's probably why we've managed to stay married this long.

How you know you don't live in California anymore

Catfish or Whiting Sandwiches and Soul Food.  This was taken in Nashville, not in the white bread suburb where we live. Not surprisingly, it's not too far from the 'Turnip Greens' place.  That vegetable stand, by the way, has changed their sign to read "Homegrown Tomatoes" but there's no phone number, so I guess they figure you already have it by now.

Life according to Sam

Jack was whining to me yesterday, "How come you get to do that and I don't?"  I gave him the classic, "Because I'm the mom." (Ahh, an oldie, but a goodie.)

Sam said matter-of-factly, "Jack. Mommies get to do what they want. And boys don't."

Couldn't have said it better myself.

Uninvited guest

Okay, this may sound strange, but...

there is a wasp in my refrigerator.

I don't know how he got there. We've had a bit of a problem with wasps on our deck and we've had several get into the house lately, but I never saw this one until Sam opened the fridge a minute ago.

So we shut the door right away- I don't know what's worse, having him out here with us or in there with my Mountain Dew.

Hiya, Murphy!

Since I've been waiting for this day, Sam's first day of preschool, since, like, the day Sam was born, Jack decided to wake up in the middle of the night throwing up. He stayed home from school today.

Isn't that just the way it goes?

Well, Sam will go back on Friday. At least that's something.

Choose your own clever title

Sorry to leave y'all hanging, but we made it though the storm okay. We had some strong winds and some steady rain, but no excitement at our house. Unless you count Jack coming downstairs to sleep with us, leading to my sleeping in the bunk bed half the night. Bunk bed! woo!

In other news, we have another family blog hanging around the internets these days. Checkout these guys in Valencia. Very exciting!

Also, my brother, David was in the news.

At bedtime when I told Sam it was time for bed, he whined. "Oooh, please, mom...Just one more minute...one more second...just one teeny tiny tiny little bit more...just one more...pleeeeeeeease!"   I said, "Okay. (pause) One. All right, that's it!"  He hung his head and said, "Awwww," and walked dejectedly up the stairs.  I wonder how many more times that will work?