Hey Beth, Keep Your Chin Up!

When Beth was born (gasp! nearly 17 years ago!), she was over 2 months premature and spent the first 2 months of her tiny life living in an incubator. To touch her, we had to put our hands in these little holes inside the box where she was being kept warm and safe.

On top of that, I was a pretty sick chick, too. The pregnancy was toxic to me and my vital signs were wickedly out of whack. Because of that, I was completely bed bound for the first few days after Beth was born. After two days of not being allowed to even SEE my daughter, let alone hold her, I kicked up a temper tantrum nasty enough that the doctors felt if they didn't get me down to the neonatal ICU soon, my blood pressure would be through the roof.

So, to ameliorate the postpartum freak out I was about to have, they wheeled me into that bright, sterile environment while I was still lying flat in my hospital bed. Not the best way to finally see your newborn baby.

It was a few days before I finally graduated to a wheelchair. That meant I could reach my arm into one of those incubator holes and I could touch my baby's face for the first time. It's a feeling I will never forget. Check out those bruises on my arms! And see that teeny little bottle sitting beside the blue machinery? Just call me Elsie the Cow. Homemade milk, baby!



Since this was my first time really seeing Beth, I did the usual new parent thing and counted fingers and toes. When I looked at her face, I realized she had a bump on her chin. It was ragged and irregular. Since she was born by C-section, I assumed the doctor nicked her chin with the scalpel when he was taking her out.

It was probably ten years later when a doctor noticed it and told me it was actually a mole. Weird. It was "skin colored" and not round. Sure 'nuff, another doctor looked at it a few years laterand agreed it was a mole. He felt she should have it removed while she was young and could heal better.

Another few years later, I finally convinced Beth to have it removed. It would have been smart of me to take a picture of it, but too late! This is the closest I could get.



Monday, she went under the knife (for real this time - not just presumably being nicked by an obstetrician), and she is now beautifully bump-free. Or so I would assume. She's still bandaged up, but the surgeon said it would be barely noticeable after a few months.




My brave baby.

Do the Hippie Hippie Shake

Recently, Heather got to spend a few hours with her boyfriend.

Paul, well, how can I describe Paul. I’d have to say that Paul is just a weird duck.

But as far as weird ducks go…Paul is infinitely likeable. He makes me laugh. He’s a total hippie. Yep, long hair, tie-dye headband and everything.

What I like best about Paul is the fact that he lives for himself. He doesn’t care what other people think about him. He’s just so completely sure of himself which is a quality I’m sorely lacking.

When Heather took Paul to her Youth Group meeting, a young 6-year-old girl noticed Heather was holding his hand. She went up to him and asked if he was a boy or a girl. Between Paul’s long hair and the fact that Heather had covered Paul’s fingernails with a pretty shade of blue nail polish, you can understand her question. He laughed and said he’s a boy. The poor little girl was mortified that she had asked, but I have a feeling that it totally made Paul’s day.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to just live life not worrying about people making fun of you or telling you how you have to live?

Don’t bother with mascara that always seems to flake off and turn my sclera bloodshot.

Choose your high school boyfriend based on who makes you happy, not who will allow you to rise a rung on the social ladder.

No need to wear a tight bra just to make my boobs land somewhere north of the equator just because everyone else thinks it looks better.

I don’t know about you, but as for me, until everybody else feels like they can be themselves, I guess I gotta follow the crowd. Oxymoronic, ain’t it.

Overdressed

Now that we live right across the street from the city park and tennis courts, suddenly Heather finds the need to put on make-up and do her hair BEFORE going out to mow the grass. Sometimes, she even dresses up for the occasion.



I'm not kidding you, she actually took off shorts and a t-shirt and put this on just to mow. I have a feeling there was a cute shirtless teenage boy across the street whacking tennis balls and she wanted to catch his attention. (She's cute enough, she could have done it in sweat pants!)

OK, as per Andi's request (from the comments section), here, I present Heather's infamous "Panda Hair."

Overstimulated

Who says that kids nowadays can't focus on more than one thing at a time?

For example, tonight, my daughter was talking to two different people on IM, had her email open, was listening to music through her MP3 player, was on the cell phone (with the house phone within easy reach) AND was reading a book in between sentences.



Now if only she could learn to chew gum and walk at the same time without tripping over her shoelaces, she'd be all set.