I Don't Feel That Old . . . .

But I know i am, because I think the Dads on Gossip Girl and Friday Night Lights are the hotties on the shows.

This is not a good sign.

Yes, I know GG is crap; Don't knock Friday Night Lights, though - It's one of the best shows on television.

Old Photo Day

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Originally uploaded by Dogwood Girl.

In case you haven't noticed, I heart old photos. This is one that I found in my mom's family photos. Based on the photos it was found with, I'm pretty sure it is a picture of one or more of the Stevens family. Frankly, it really bums me out that I don't know who it is, because I love their faces and the fact that they aren't all posed like people usually are in pictures from this era. I love the casual look of the subjects, like they're just out loping the roads on a Saturday afternoon. I love that the young kid (boy? girl?) is in the driver's seat. I love that the woman in the middle is obviously the matriarch of the family, lording over the others with her beads and her hat. I like that dark-haired woman in the back, looking out of the corner of her eye, and looking like the wicked witch of the west. I wonder what kind of car it is. Mostly, I wonder if one of them is my Grandma Vivian's mother, who grew up near Sanford, NC, and died when grandma was just a teenager in Slidell, LA. And I wonder who the rest of them are, and if they were as fun as my Grandma and Aunt Dot.

Most of all, I wish Grandma was sitting here next to me, drink in one hand, cigarette in the other, to look over my shoulder, tell me who they all are, and then tell me a gut-busting story about one of them.

Summertime Rolls

I think of that song every year about this time. It makes me think of the beach and graduating high school and looking forward to college and working at the pool for the summer. It makes me think of the rope swing on the hooch, and Dairy Queen. It is a song, for me, about possibility.

So, more and more, when this time of year comes around, I think back at how I felt so hopeful back then, and I remind myself that there is power in feeling that anticipation, and in taking on new tasks and hobbies and work and travel.

Which is good, because I am going to be working again, at least part-time, and I have to remind myself that while my dreams of wearing the kids out at the pool every day or dropping everything at a moment's notice to head to The Lake might not come to fruition, change is always good, and I always learn and grow from it. Meeting new people and learning new jobs is always a booster to my self-esteem, my mindset, and yeah, to the bank account.

And the pool stays open til 9, so I think I can get in some swims, no matter how much I am working.

Summertime Rolls. . . .

Fast Friends

Fast Friends
Originally uploaded by Dogwood Girl.

My sister is pregnant and is in the 'get the baby out" stage, or maybe it is the "I think i changed my mind. I don't really want to have this baby" stage. Either way, i was thinking that after bombarding her labor stories, which can be kind of scary, I would write about a good/fond memory of labor/childbirth/the aftermath.

With Rollie, my best memories are:
When I first had him, they had the specialists to come in and suction him, since he was not breathing well, and then they let me hold him for a second before taking him to the transitional nursery. I had him for maybe ten seconds, not enough to even take it all in, but my mom was in the room by that point, and she got to see me hold him for the first time. And I got to see her face when I told her that he was named for her father and brother. Now that I have kids, that means more to me than I thought; I can only imagine that looking down at one of my kids and seeing them holding their newborn will really do a number on me, and even if Mom is not around anymore, that memory will be pretty special, and really she will be there, because I will undoubtedly think of her standing down looking at me, her first baby, holding my first baby.

The day I brought him home from the hospital was humid and rainy, but when we pulled into the drive, I got out, and carried Rollie in his carrier onto the porch. my mom came out and while Todd unloaded some stuff, Mom and i stood on the porch with the baby, and we looked up, and the rain had stopped, the sun poked through, and we saw the biggest, most beautiful rainbow ever.

Introducing Rollie to Quint (the dog). I sat on the bottom stair and had Rollie in my arms and we let Quint in and he bounded over to see me, and nuzzled Rollie gently, smelling him. And then Rollie let out a big cooing/crying sound and Quint jumped straight up in the air like a cat, and ran and hid behind the couch.

The first time Lisa changed Rollie's diaper, he peed in her face. That image never gets old.

Tiller:
Having a great labor experience and her coming into the world almost on the dot of midnight, and being healthy, and getting to hold her and have Todd there, and they didn't take her away from me and it was just wonderful.

McDonald's, rather than crappy hospital food, after her birth. It was one of the best meals i have ever eaten. The second time around, i knew that I could get takeout menus from the nurses station, and I knew to send baby to the nursery while i ate and not freak out about it, and pretty much the whole hospital experience was like a vacay.

Rollie came to the hospital to meet Tiller and he was totally unimpressed with her - all he wanted was my milkshake, so he climbed up in the hospital bed with me, and we shared my milkshake and watched cartoons, and I was so relieved, because I realized that my heart really did have enough room for two.

We had Tiller on a Saturday, but had gone into the hospital on a friday afternoon, and so the first day she was in the world, we sat around in the room and had football to watch all day! It was awesome, and i loved watching Todd, his dad, Rollie, and Tiller sitting in my hospital room and watching football together. I loved watching UGA beat the vols that afternoon, with Tiller in my arms asleep.

My Dad falling asleep in the room, with Tiller in his arms.

A Fave

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Originally uploaded by Dogwood Girl.

I love this picture. That's me, on the left, not Tiller! Pop is holding me, then Aunt Lessie, and Grandma on the end. Oh, and mess o' fish.

Aunt Lessie always dressed up, even for fishing. You shoulda seen her getup when she went to the pool with me in Roswell, and went off the diving board. She was in her 70s! Wearing an old-school swimcap with plastic flowers on it. Grandma? She liked to rock the cat's eye glasses.

Last of the Palmersistericans

So, after seeing Indy, I stayed up late and watched all of Last of the Mohicans, because it's one of those movies that I could watch over and over again. But one thing always kinda bothers me: Cora's father kicks the bucket in the a.m. when Magua tears his heart out. Nathaniel tells her behind the waterfall. Then, later that afternoon, Alice steps off the cliff to follow Nathaniel's smoking. hot. brother.

So, then, Nathaniel and daddy Indian guy (Bummpo? Can't remember his name. Chingkachook?) go to kill off the bad Huron guys, including evil (easily identified by his pock-marked face, just like that bad guy in Grease the movie) Magua. When they finally dispose of them all, they stand on the rock overlooking the valley and they say all this nice spiritual shit, and then Cora and Natty hug and make googly eyes, and you know what?

If I had seen Leelee go over that cliff after the hot Indian guy, I woulda been scrambling down that rock to see what happened to her, instead of making out with DDLewis.

But that's just me.

Also? I haven't looked it up on IMDB, but you know that scenery ain't NY. That's North Carolina, peeps. They just don't look the same. (Now I have to go see if I am right or not.)

Yay Me!

I learned how to tie an underwriter's knot today and rewired an old lamp I found in Pop's shed. Yay me! It's a cool Art Deco (I think) lamp with a silver ballet dancer and a black squarish-cornered Empire State Building looking base. It's a little beat up, but still pretty cool. Gotta get a shade for it, but then I'll post a pic.

Okay, it completely interfered with my run that I planned to do while kids were at school, but did I mention that I learned something new today? Best feeling.

And now I am kinda looking at everything and wondering if I should make a lamp of it. Dog? No. Cat? Um. . . no, i guess not. Off to garage to look for more lamp objects.

Mama's Little Jackass

I was washing something in the sink night before last as I readied dinner. I looked out the window over the sink, which overlooks our front yard, to see my 4 year-old son, astride the white trash car, barreling across the street. As it ran up the curve of the driveway opposite us, then onto the grass, Rollie was catapulted off the car, up into the air a good 3 feet above the car's roof, coming down right on his ass, which was quite a drop considering the neighbor's yard slopes from the top of their drive.

I ran out the door, knocking Tiller over as I came out into the garage, to see him stand up, bawling his eyes out, and scared shitless. That made two of us. I yelled at him to stay where he was, as I didn't want him to run out in the street, and I was still running down the drive at this point. This was pointless, as four-year-olds who are frightened and want their mama are not deterred by things like having their skulls bashed in by oncoming traffic. No matter how I shrieked hysterically at him to stay where he was, he was coming towards me as fast as he could go, and there was no stopping him. He made it across without any problem and into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably, and doing the death grip cling to my neck that terrified kids do.

I am pretty sure I was yelling at him that he wasn't allowed to go into the street and what the hell was he doing in the street? He was crying that Tiller had pushed him into the street ("I was pushed!") and at that point Tiller rushed by me screaming, "my car! My car!" and she darted down the driveway towards the road, not looking either way for traffic, and me yelling my deepest, booming Mama's-gonna-tear-up-your-behind-if-you-run-in-that-street voice, again, to no avail. I had to sprint, with Rollie still in my arms, his legs wrapped behind me so tight i could barely take a breath, and managed to snag her arm at the very end of the drive, at which point i realized, Rollie was not bleeding, swelling, broken, or bruised, and was simply really, really frightened. He was put down, still clinging to my neck as I pried his arms away, and gave her a swat on the behind.

Then both children were dragged up the drive by their arms, both fighting me and screaming their personal grief, "Tiller pushed me! Tiller Pushed me!!!!" and "My caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrr!!!!" and me still hysterically yelling at them: "Why were you in the street!!? You could have killed your brother, tiller. I don't give a good Goddamn about that car! Y'all are never seeing that car again! You were supposed to be in the backyard with your father! Where is your Father??!" as Todd finally came around from the back, hearing the hollering match, and the screams and probably the absolute "she's completely lost it" tone in my voice, which i admit I must have had.

Todd retrieved the car from the neighbor's yard, and promptly put it in the back of the van. It will be finding a new home, pronto.

Tiller was sent to her room (Todd handled that one, because i was ready to put the shaken baby syndrome on her) and I took Rollie in and sat on the couch with him, checking him for injuries, and just generally hugging his guts out and getting the ful story. It seems Rollie and Tiller were supposed to be watching Daddy put bug spray in the yard, and standing by the gate until he finished. What really happened is that Rollie and Tiller started playing in the garage, and Rollie straddled the white trash car (which is what kids who are too big for the white trash car do when they outgrow it). This means that he was sitting on the roof of it, his legs dangling down to about the doors, but unable to touch the ground. Rollie evidently asked Tiller to push him around the garage and somehow she ended up pushing him into the driveway, which has a slope to it. White Trash Car picked up speed, with Rollie pulling a complete Johnny Knoxville on top of it, and went straight down the hill, across the street (which was where I picked up the visual), and into the neighbor's yard, where he was launched like he was fired out of a cannon.

All I could think about when the initial adrenaline wore off, and when I started shaking, holding my baby on my lap, and crying my eyes out, was that:

a) The little fucker coulda been nailed by a car as he shot across the street and b) The little shithead wasn't wearing a helmet and he's lucky he hit the grass instead of shooting headfirst into the neighbor's driveway, or one of their cars and becoming a vegetable for life.

I am one lucky mom, and the whole thing was such a fluke, pretty much not something you could prevent, or prepare for, or imagine happening. And it just reminds me that all this other crap is just that: Bullshit. We live these tenuous lives and every moment is one second before or after that car comes barreling down the street and takes the important things away. We're all just one little jackass moment away from losing it all, no matter where we live, how beautiful we are, how great our jobs are, or whether we listen to cool music or american idol. The Jackass Moments in life do not differentiate.

Tucker Day

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Originally uploaded by Dogwood Girl.

So, it has been over a week since we attended the Tucker Day parade. Todd ran the 5k, and I took the kids to the pancake breakfast benefiting the Tucker High school. (We ate in the cafeteria, which was strange.)

Afterwards, we walked over to Main St. to view the parade. The thing that I loved most about the parade was how small-town it seemed; It reminded me so much of the Alpharetta parade i used to attend (and even participated in as a kid), back when Alpharetta was country and southern, down to the tractors in the parade.

Now, the funny thing about the tractors is that when they started coming towards us, I laughed out loud at the joy in seeing them. So old-school! So reminded me of childhood! But Todd? He was watching the parade in a different location with friends of ours, one of whom is Dutch. He didn't get the tractor thing at all. And how can you possibly explain to outsiders why they are riding tractors in the parade? It's just how it is done.



And above, my favorite pictures of my cousins and sister, sitting on Main Street in Alpharetta, c. 1978, drinking cokes on the hood of mom's wagon, waiting for me to appear in this bitching ensemble:

Little Grad

So, Rollie graduated from Pre-k. Yeah, it's four-year-olds, but i was pretty damn proud. And he's pretty damn cute.

Yeah, check him out!

Mama's My Heart

"Mama's my heart!" It was very sincere, too. None of that sarcasm exhibited in other women in the family.

That's what Tiller just said. Cute-o-rama. Also? She can get away with wearing carrots on her pants. Not all girls can get away with a look like that. . .

Because He's Still the Cutest Guy Around

I Pledge Allegiance

I attended my first PTA meeting last night. (Okay, not my first, because Todd and i have attended a few for other schools we considered sending our kids to, but the first for a school my child will definitely attend.) The Lakeside High school Jazz band played at the beginning. They had very fancy, meticulously-styled bedhead hair. They all looked about 12 to me. After that, the student council president (a 5th grader, I guess?) led us in the Pledge of Allegiance. Everyone stood and put the hands over their heart and it was at once strange, and yet a little comforting. It reminded me of being a kid, and having a sense that the place I lived was the best in the world, an assurance that nothing was wrong with the place i was from. Except at 36 and kind of conflicted about the state of my country, I just felt self-conscious, and a little dirty, and a lot proud at the same time.

But then, while i tuned out the droning Peanuts voice of the PTA president (who really likes to hear herself go on and on), I said the words of the Pledge over again in my head, and i thought, "okay, that isn't so bad." I pretty much agree with all of that. But I still see where people who didn't believe in a Christian God would have a problem with it, or worry that they were having a particular God, or any God, forced on them at all.

Sigh. Things were a lot easier last time I was at a PTA meeting.

New School

7:45 am
[Enter room and see Rollie watching The Jetsons on Boomerang.]

Rollie: Mama, you know what I'm watching?
Me: The Jetsons?
Rollie: Yeah. . . . You like Jetsons, Mama?
Me: Yeah, it was one of my faves when I was a girl. You kicking it old school, or what?
Rollie [staring at me like I am the dumbest person on earth:] No, I'm going to a new school.

Always the little literalist.

Ruth

I'm not sure who this little guy Junior Isom is, but I love this picture of Todd's grandma Ruth:

Meemaw, you will be missed.

Kinda Sad Road Trip

Off to Louisville for T's grandma's funeral. Meemaw is gone. I have a lot of thoughts about her, and about how lucky I feel to have known her, but I need to digest the whole thing and will write when I get back. I figure going to ky will give me a little more perspective anyway.

If you pray, or just think good thoughts, make sure they go out to the Toddler family tonight. I love'em all. Even if they are all way too quiet and reserved and in comparison, I look like a loud-mouthed annoying daughter/sister in-law, who probably drinks a little too much and doesn't know when to bite her tongue.

Why, Oh Why?

Did I ever click on this link? I mean, Scrabulous is fun, but now I am completely addicted to the Tetris of the word world. (Don't tell T. He just thinks I have a slight problem, not that I'm a full-blown, cracked-out Babble whore.)

I don't have time for this, but when did that ever stop me? (Reference: Myst during finals week debacle or Indiana Jones "This is Crab Central"/"Sophia, let's talk brick wall" that took a week to figure out.) Thank God I don't smoke any more, or I'd be huddled over the laptop, puffing away, playing Babble in a corner of the basement while the kids destroyed the house and it fell in on me, oblivious to everything but shrinking the number of words left.

Word nerds: Follow that link at your own peril.

I'm Going to Hell

Or at least fantasy nerds look at me derisively. Or both.

While I was watching The Chronicles of Narnia, and attempting to make a blasphemous Christ joke, I screwed up.

"Asrael is the resurrection and the life."

Duh. Aslan.

Maybe I should lay off the Smurfs.

Heartwarming Milestone: Rollie's First Bottle of Robo!

Like those other milestones, "First trip to the Emergency Room," or "First Projectile Vomiting Episode," they are so precious. This morning, it was "First Call to Poison Control."

Rollie has a cold and cough. He often wakes up earlier than Todd and me, goes to the bathroom, and then plays in his room until the sun comes up. This morning, I could tell he wasn't feeling good, and he was coughing like crazy, so I made the call to keep him home from school. He was laying on the couch, watching The Flintstones, and just feeling puny. Yes, Mom, his eyes were peaked, too.

It was my turn to get up with the kids, so Todd woke up later and i heard him jump in the shower. Then he came down with the news that someone had gotten into the cough medicine. Now, any parent knows that kids freakin' love taking medicine. It always tastes like Cherry, Grape, or Bubblegum! It's the best! Yes, i realize that kids are not supposed to take the cold and cough medicines anymore, but we never cleaned the old ones out of the medicine cabinet. I mean, who knows? Next month, they might come out with a study that shows children's cough medicine prevents cancer.

We interrogated him for a few minutes, trying to find out how much he took. We had no idea how much was in the bottle in the first place (or how he managed to open a "childproof" bottle.) He kept repeating that he took "four." Four sips? Four chugs? Four teaspoons? Four cupfuls? Sure, his liver might be experiencing irreparable damage, or his heart might be about to explode out of his chest, or he might be about to slip into a coma at any moment, but I still want to throttle him for not being able to express to me exactly how much he took. Mother of the Year!

I got on the phone with the pediatrician's office. When you tell the doctor that your kid ingested poison or got into cough medicine, all you can think is that the nurse on the other end is thinking "why the hell do you still have that medicine in the house, and why weren't you watching your kid? Just another dumbass, crappy parent." They forwarded me to Poison Control. While I waited for them to answer, I looked at the bottle. There was no Tylenol in it. Phew. For Rollie's size, he should have a teaspoon. A cup of it is four teaspoons. 98 pound kids are supposed to get four teaspoons. Rollie only weighs 40 pounds.

Fuck. What the hell is Dextromothorphan.

This is obviously some kind of karmic ass-biting the world is bringing upon me for all the times we shoplifted Robotussin in high school and then drank the whole bottle. I was a terrible kid and now I am the worst mother in the world. What the hell made me think i could be a parent? Just to get it out of the way, I should admit that there was also shoplifting and sniffing of Scotchguard and whipped cream. Maybe a confession here will be considered proactive good karma and the universe won't require Tiller and Rollie to fulfill the "I hope you have one just like you" curse to its full potential.

Poison control guy gets on and asks me questions and then tells me to hold on while they crunch numbers. Seems like forever, and it is not encouraging that Georgia Poison Control is somehow affiliated with Grady Health Systems. I start Googling directions to Children's from the new house.

Guy gets back on the line, and tells me Rollie will be fine. He should not have any other meds today. Drink plenty of fluids. He might be extremely excitable, or really drowsy. (Come on, drowsy!) He is definitely acting a little odd (he called me Tiller and keeps babbling nonsense) and his pupils look like saucers, but he seems okay.

I am so relieved. You forget how much you love the little shits, because you get so tired of the endless questions, and constant chatter, and neverending requests, and the fights, and crying, and messes they make. But when you have ten minutes wondering if you'll be sitting in a hospital that day and if your little man is going to be okay, it puts it all into perspective. You think that sitting on the couch watching cartoons and cuddling with a sick, doped-up kid is pure heaven.

We are sitting here on the couch now, and he is definitely acting squirrely; he keeps repeating "I'm sorry, mama." And I keep telling him that it is okay, that mama and Daddy got mad at him because it scared them, and he just can't ever take medicine without us ever again. Then he says, "I'm sorry I took the medicine, mama." We have been repeating this about every ten minutes for the last hour. I am reminded of the time Mike M. fell off the skateboard and got a concussion. He had no memory of the accident.

He kept asking: "What happened?"
Us: "You have a concussion."
Mike: "How did I get it?"
Us: "You fell off a skateboard."
Mike: "Who the hell let me on a skateboard!!??"

(For those that don't know Mike, he is about 6'8" and should never have been on a skateboard in the first place.) He would seem happy with our answers, and then five minutes later, forgot them and we went through the whole thing again. This happened so many times that da Crease finally wrote "Concussion" and "Skateboard" on his arm and just told Mike to look at his arm when he asked what happened. Still cracks me up to think about it.

The upside to this Robo episode? Rollie is so out of it that I am able to make him watch cartoons I like, rather than the Dora and Diego crap that we usually would have to watch. Right now we are watching The Perils of Penelope Pitstop. He keeps telling me he loves this show. It is his favorite.

Oh, and his cough is gone.