Baby pics

Okay everyone, here she is.  Jolina is almost 5 months old now.  this picture was taken about 3 weeks ago.   When you hold her, she turns her head, checking her surroundings and you out.   She likes to touch faces now and I get a kick out of my son holding her in front of the computer.  Seems there are several websites just for babies - she loves to look at all the flashing colors and sounds.  

Time on my hands

Now that I am no longer in grad school I am restless, so I decided to start putting together the baby quilt that I  promised my son.   I have done several others, nothing fancy - just an old-fashioned patchwork quilt.   So far I have cut the squares out, placed them in some kind of order, stitched the individual squares together and today I stiched the rows together.   I purchased the flannel some time ago - brightly colored circles all in rows.  Now all I have to do is to tie it off with yarn and then sew the border. 

  Hopefully I will get that done and maybe get a picture to show for my efforts.   So far I have spent about 15 hrs on it - making quilts take time and i hope that my son and daughter-in-law appreciate the effort that goes into one.  My son still remembers the one I made for him.  He drug it around the house until he literally outgrew it.  

Sweet potato baby

My son and daughter-in-law have introduced baby food to my granddaughter Jolina.   Her favorite food besides all the fruits is Sweet Potatoes, which I think is just hilarious.   Of course, they probably put butter or a bit of honey in to give flavor, but I gather she just loves the stuff.  

Trial and error and so they have much to learn as new parents.  They have discovered that by keeping Jolina at home for the first 2 months of her life that now she is attached to them and only them.   When they bring her by to visit me, she cries the whole time.     Hopefully that will change in the next few weeks as I can go and visit more and get her used to seeing me again. 

Who are we visiting?

My fathers dream, ever since he was a little boy, was to own his own farm.    With hard work, his dream became a reality.   Dad purchased 80 acres that needed some work.  There was an old ramshackle house that was not fit for man nor beast and dad had that torn down.  The barn was in great shape along with a decent corn crib and a few smaller sheds.   It also had a nice sloping hill down behind the barn and a woods at the far end of the property.   Dad, and family, worked like dogs to get the property up to snuff - clearing limbs, cleaning, etc.   The farm was his life.  He raised black angus cattle to sell at market, and also corn, and soybeans.     Farming was full time and he also had his own business, hauling stone and lime to farmers, developers, etc.    My dad was also a drinker and one night he was severely injured when a train hit him and dragged him several hundred feet.  He was taking a short cut home after his stone truck broke down.   He had emergency surgery and had a steel rod placed in his leg, and also he lost all the toes up to his instep on his right foot.   Being a trucker and farmer was all dad knew, and losing part of his foot changed  his life and ours forever.    

Mom and I thought that Dad had finally come to terms with his injury, when he went back to work.  But something happened.   He could not remember how to spread stone any longer, and he would get lost trying to get to each job.  Before the accident he was one of the best stone haulers around.   

 One day he came home and announced that he was selling the farm.   My mom, my brother and I were in shock.   "Why on earth would you sell the farm dad?"  Everyone who knew my father knew it was his pride and joy.   "I've made my decision, what's done is done" is all that my father said.  He would not be swayed.   In less than two weeks after dad put the farm up for sale it sold.    It went to a young man who dreamed of owning our farm but knew dad would never part with it.    Within a month my dad had purchased a house in Delaware.  My dad had never lived one single day in the city.   His first 53 years were spent on the farm or small rural village setting.   This was in May.    Two months later, as mom told me, dad was sitting in the living room.   All of a sudden dad sat up and said, "Who are we visiting?"   Mom said, "Richard [dad], this is our house."   Dad wanted to know why we had two homes and mom said we didn't, that dad had sold the farm.   

Needless to say, it was total devastation for dad who could not accept that his beloved farm was gone.  All that remained of the farm was the 16 acres of frontage, everything else was gone.   My brother, mom, and I were in a state of disbelief and confusion.    Dad had to go to see a pyschologist who said that dad had gone through a split-personality of some type.   He could not accept that he could not work because of the loss of his foot and something within that time frame made his mind snap.   The doctor said there were signs, but he was wrong.   Except for the selling of the farm, there were no other outward signs up to that point.  You did not disagree with my father on anything and so even though we begged him not to sell, he did anyway.  Dad never consulted the family on any kind of decision.   

My dad sold the farm in the spring and just before labor day of the same year my dad ended his life.   He took his life on the small piece of ground that was the only thing left of his farm.    This was back in the early 1980's.   Mom and I were a wreck, not sleeping, and the doctor would not give us one thing to help us sleep.   There were no survivors of victims of suicide clinics.   We dealt with it on our own, and it was tough going for months.     Mom took up smoking again to calm her nerves, my brother re-involved himself in work as did I.   Even after all these years I try to think if there was something that any of us could have done for our dad to have stopped this tragedy, and I still come up with zero.    We were blindsided, and so my heart always goes out to those who have to deal with the same tragedy.    I know where they are coming from. 

Life without Father?!

How do you describe your life when you have a father, but does not act like one.    Maybe because he had no role model when he was younger.   His own father died when he was a just a lad.   His mom, my grandma, took on the role of provider, but she had to care for her mom as well, afterall it was passed on to her after my great grandfather died.    The family farm kept the family together.  Dad had to grow up really fast.  He was the youngest of 4 children, two other brothers and a sister.   Grandma favored Dad's oldest brother and only sister, even after they became parents themselves.     They and their families got first pick of everything.  My grandmother even gave my uncle 2 plots of land, free and clear.    My aunt was the only girl and she was babied even into adulthood by my grandmother.  What her brother didn't get, she did.   Dad entered the Army just before the end of WW II and came back a changed man, changed in that he became a drinker while he was in training.   He never got over that, and it only worsened as the years passed.   Dad had to work for what he got, eventually earning enough money to purchase his first home about 2 miles from the homestead.   On the weekends he and Uncle Duck would help grandma, but guess who got the credit for helping out.  Yep, you guessed it, the oldest.    Eventually dad saved the money for his dream - a farm of his own.    However, Dad liked the booze.  His friends were more important than his family.  We never took a family vacation even though dad could have easily afforded it.   His friends always had their hand out for money and dad was always there to give it to them.    His love for the booze nearly cost him his life.    He was taking a shortcut down the railroad tracks one night when his stone truck quit running.  Since we lived right next to the railroad tracks it was simpler to take the shortcut.  It was raining heavily that night and dad did not hear the train coming.    The front of the engine caught him and dragged him quite awhile.   Mom heard him yelling even though he was more than 1000 ft away.   He eventually lost half of his foot and nearly his life.   Dad could not work anymore - getting in and out of a 8 wheeler truck was difficult now.      He survived, but something must have happened during that ordeal with the train, something with the mind.    Except for the day I was married, I never heard my father say "I love you."  I have no warm fuzzy memories of my father.  He provided for us, but there is more to being a father.   Mom said on several occasions that she had to beg him for money for school clothes, and even for Christmas.    Yet he would freely hand it over to his friends.       Dad died in 1980.  Mom has no fond remembrances of him, and as the years pass she has told me more and more about the father I barely knew.    We lived in the same house, but couldn't have been farther apart.

YEAH! I'm a bonified grandma now!!

I have grandma-itis.   The labor was brief, about 6 hrs for a first time mom and all is well as far as we know.  So after waiting for 15 plus years, I finally get to call myself grandma.  I am trying not to "baby talk" but it is hard.   Her name is Jolina and she weighs 7 lbs and is 18 inches long for all of you pnn'ers who want to know.    I don't think she particularly looks like anyone yet, but my son says she looks just like her mom.    She has a button nose just like her dad, but don't they all have button noses when they are born?  They were trying to do a hearing test on her tonight but she still has liquid from the delivery in her ears.   Hopefully there will be  better reading tomorrow.   As soon as I get someone to upload a pic of her, I will post it.   I am new to digital cameras and still have much trouble.  

Do other grandma's think yadda, yadda, yadda, here we go again, another excited new grandma, or do they get excited all over again, thinking about their first grandchild.     

childbirth horror stories?!!

My daughter-in-law is going to be induced later on today and so hopefully by the end of May 19, 2009, I will finally be a grandma.   However, there is one phonomena that I would just as soon erase.    No, not the labor itself, since that is a given.  It is when women who are visiting the mother-to-be start regaling them with their own stories of how they were in labor 30-40 hours.   Why on earth would you tell someone who is having their first child something like that?   They are nervous enough as it is.   There is no way to explain to the prospective mother exactly how the first twinges of labor will feel or the irongrip you suddenly have when a contraction bears down on you.    I was just dumbfounded as her sister-in-law kept going on and on and on about how hard her labor was.    So ladies, when you go for moral support or the stand-in for the father, keep your mouth shut.  You can always regal her afterwards. 

Grandma Lucy

I have been thinking about my Grandma Lucy quite a bit lately.    She passed on in 1978.   None of the grandkids could pronounce her last name correctly, so she became Grandma Lucy.  My grandma graciously allowed me and my two children to move in with her and her big farmhouse.   My divorce had been finalized a month earlier.    I remember waking up one morning to see the wind howling and the snow just piling up.   I was seeing first hand the blizzard of '78.   Miraculously we did not lose power, living in the country.    We just hunkered down like everyone else and went on with our lives.    It was no sweat for grandma who had lived through much worse through the years.  A little ole blizzard was not going to slow her down.   

As a child i was diagnosed with asthma and Rhuematic Fever.  I was one sick little girl for a very long time.   I see pictures of myelf as a girl and my eyes are sunk back in my head from endless nights suffering through 3-4 hour bouts of asthma.   Inhalers were not available then, and then I would eventually fall asleep exhuasted.  

I was not allowed to do anything physical.  I could not run, jump rope and sail over the high jump with ease.    I spent almost every weekend with my grandmother.   At the time I was the only granddaughter, among 3 grandsons.     She would brush my hair until it was silky soft, and talk to me so as to calm me down.   

Etch-a-sketch did not exist then, but my grandmother solved that problem.   She would have me sit in front of her, and she would use her finger to draw images on my back.   She would go slowly and I had to guess what she was drawing.   Sometimes it would be something easy like a house, or a flower, but other things were a bit difficult to imagine, like a tractor or an animal, of which grandma was not able to do.    You must be quiet in order to feel the pattern being drawn, almost as though you are hearing it drawn in your mind.   

Taking me out to the barn to feed the cows, and chickens was another treat - did not get to go often as I was allergic to the dust from the hay and straw, but I thoroughly enjoyed the rustling of the straw, and the animals munching on the hay.   The earthy smells that emaninated from the barn still fill my mind.    The hay loft was a special treat for me, my brother, and two male cousins.   We played cops and robbers,  cowboys and indians and attacked each other by jumping off a higher bale, rolling and laughing all the way. 

The food my grandmother made was out of this world.   She baked and cooked with lard and it lent flakiness and flavor to everything she made.   I can still smell the aroma of fried chicken cooked in lard and how it made the gravy taste - out of this world.     Homemade was her way of life and she passed that heritage on to me.  I will often bypass a modern recipe to try out one of hers.    It is not always a successful undertaking as ingredients have changed and it is hard to tell what a pinch of this or that will affect the recipe.  

My mom still cooks most things from scratch.  She makes awesome homemade noodles, cranberry salad, chicken salad with grapes and homemade applesauce.  The canned stuff does not even come close to the flavor of warm fresh from the pan cooked sauce.   

 On this mothers day, i remember their contributions to my life.

mothers day - foiled again

When it rains it pours, and that is the last time that I take mom to a buffet.     Where do some of these establishments get off thinking that a Mothers Day buffet should look like something you would get in a school cafeteria.   

My brother and sister-in-law came along with us and paid for everything which was extremely considerate of my pocketbook.   We all ate, but none of us raved about the food.   Mom and I were so disappointed.    KFC buffet looked better than what this buffet had.  There was half of  a breakfast bar,  6 pans that would have been considered lunch, and the other side was salad and fixin's, but no cole slaw, potato salad, three bean salad, nothing except salad.    there wasn't even any dessert.   

I guess Mom and I have different expectations of what a buffet is supposed to look like - maybe we should just stick with what we know or maybe go to a hotel where they know how to present a buffet. 

Cook on mothers day? Absolutely not

My mother was in shock the other day when my daughter happened to say, "I don't want to go out and eat on mother's day."     I think my normally smart daughter left her brains somewhere else with that remark.  Why would mom and I want to cook on mother's day since it is OUR day.    My daughter is not a mom yet so I guess she does not understand the significance of not cooking like my mom has for the last 60 years, and for her own mother as well. 

I know there are moms out there who cannot afford to go out and eat, so must cook, but I try to save enough money back so I can take her out - she deserves it for much of the misery she had while my father was alive.  He liked to go out and eat, always getting steak, shrimp, or a combination, but mom always got chicken.   Why you might ask, because my dad had the nerve one day to say mom always got the most expensive dish on the menu, when HE was the one who did so.    From then on, she never ever enjoyed going out to dinner with my dad.     So that is why I take her out as much as possible.   

For many years when I was making a living salary, I made it a point to take her some place new every year, some place none of us had ever been before.   She loved it.  We found some absolutely fabulous places for not much money and great food, and some others that were not so memorable, but we get a good laugh as we look back.      

So yes, we are going out to eat on mother day. 

Fels-Napatha and set in baby formula

In the olden days your grandmother may have used a product called Fels-Naptha.  It comes in a bar and was used for cleaning just about everything.    I decided to try this product one day - it is extremely cheap - it comes in a rectangular bar.  I had a favorite blouse ruined with a set in stain, nothing took it out, including Shout, and the other products on the market. 

I couldn't believe it, this in-expensive cleaning agent got out the stain.  I no longer purchase any of the chemical products from the grocery and use this product on everything - stains no longer are a problem.   Just wet the area, rub the bar into the stain, let sit for a couple minutes and then wash.  

I tried this on used baby clothes with set in forumula.    Mothers and mothers-to-be, the stains are gone.   You can purchase Fels-Naptha at Krogers, Wal-mart, and Meijers for about $1.50.  If you cannot find it in your locale, let me know - as I have another place you can order it online. 

Half-price

Half-price always gets my attention and I am especially delighted when this comes to buying baby clothes.    For all of those lucky enough to live in or close to Marion, Ohio, the Goodwill shop - a huge place, has all their merchandise 1/2 half off on Wednesday's.   My Mom and I just happened to be dropping some items off and could not figure out why the parking lot was jammed full of vehicles and so we asked.   We have purchased many items that still had the original price tag attached.   My favorite purchases at Goodwill stores in the past year have been sweaters by L L Bean and Lands End and  a fabulous handbag from Coldwater Creek.

If your local Goodwill does not have something similar then perhaps consumers should suggest they contact Marion Goodwill to see if it is a viable alternative to bring a few hundred customers into the store that may normally only see 75.  

Surprise, surprise,

My son called me yesterday, which is always nice, and in the course of casual conversation informed me that I have a new daughter-in-law.  I knew he was considering this, but he gave no warning.  Even though it was a civil ceremony at the courthouse, I  would have loved to attend but my son chose not to tell anyone.   His new bride is a lovely young woman with a heart of gold.  She needs that with my son's short temper.   So now I am a mother-in-law and a soon-to-be grandma all within about 6 weeks.

Once a parent always a parent,

April 15th is fast approaching and every year I get aggravated when I fill out my tax forms.    We have a couple choices in designation as in married, widowed (er) or single. 

My frustration is that my kids are on their own now, but just because they are adults, doesn't mean they don't have their hand out, as in "mom can I borrow $20, or do you have an extra 10 you can spare - I'm almost on empty."   It is a shock if we ever get paid back.    As the years pass the money we "LEND" our children continues.  We help them to get set up in their new apartments buying coffeemakers, bathroom sets, dinnerware, food for the refrigerator, and so forth.  The old saying, Once a parent always a parent" rings true because your adult kids always need something.  Wouldn't a tax deduction for lifetime parenting be nice? 

Amazing!

I always find it amazing when our grown children finally become wise.   As parents we try to shield them from the trauma of life, always interjecting this bit of advice as to what they should or shouldn't do.   After all, we just want them to avoid the heartaches, and pitfalls we encountered in life.  

However, if we really gave it any thought, we would realize that only by doin'for themselves does it make any difference.   They must make the errors in judgment and some of them are doozies but that is how they learn.    We as parents can offer suggestions but that often falls on deaf ears especially when they are teenagers or even young adults.   

Isn't it amazing that whatever generation is announcing itself to the world, that the former generation that raised them has just been shelved into the "olden days" file.    My adult kids have fallen into hard times and only now are they seeing the wisdom of mom.  They are thinking ahead and making deliberate decisions instead of hasty ones.   The scope has changed as well, not just thinking of themselves.    

I hope this change in attitude  is permanent, and that the realization of real adulthood, and its responsiblities  has finally sunk in.