My First Massage

My wife and I took a trip last weekend. We had been planning a getaway for practically since Luke was born and finally got our chance. My wonderful wife booked the nicest room in a new hotel for us with a hot tub, king-sized bed, right next to the pool, etc. She also, after asking me my opinion, scheduled a couple’s massage for us at a nice spa just a mile up the road from our hotel.

Before I go any further, I need to make it known that I have never had a professional massage before. I am the sort of person who doesn’t particularly care to be touched by someone I don’t know. So, I felt a little weird about going in for something like this, even though my wife would be receiving the same treatment in the same room. Another item of note is the fact that I have an extremely high tolerance for pain, so I don’t feel things the way most people do and I have to be careful about how I do things since I will hurt myself and not realize it.

So, Friday morning we wake up refreshed, hit the free breakfast bar, and head out for our massages. We arrive, fill out forms explaining any ailments, medications, or recent surgeries (I noted my vasectomy on the sheet) and then waited a couple of minutes while the therapists prepared to work on us. We were almost immediately greeted by our therapists and taken back to a small, dimly-lit room with two massage tables. They looked comfy and soft. My therapist was a slightly overweight woman named Amber. Rachel was to have her muscles smooshed around by a bearded fellow by the name of Jim. They both smiled warmly and reassured us of their desire to make us feel comfortable. Then they told us to take off our clothes and left the room.

Rachel and I disrobed quickly and slid into the smooth warmth of the massage tables, face down. We both commented on how nice it was to use the face cradles and lie flat. It was very nice. Then, the therapists entered the room. New Age music was immediately audible at their entrance. It partly annoyed me at first, then relaxed me once I decided this was not the time to be anal about music.

Amber began. She squirted an odorless oily substance into her hands and began work on my back. The first touch was fine, but my initial reaction was to laugh because it tickled so much. Rachel had signed us up for a deep tissue massage instead of the more, circulation/relaxation driven Swedish massage. But, I wasn’t feeling the deep-tissue feeling I expected. However, being it was my first massage, I waited and let her continue.

Unfortunately, I found myself under a type of tickle torture I had never before experienced. Every touch was like a feather being dragged along my sensitive spine. At first, I tried to hold in the laughter. My body tensed and skook. Amber stopped, “Are you alright, Josh?” “Oh, sure. Fine. Feels great! I just feel like I want to make sounds.” “Oh, um, ok.” For the entire back portion of the massage, I held back my laughter: something I am not used to doing, ever.
Finally, she moved to my legs. My right leg was bared. She oiled her hands. The moment she made the first rub, I cackled, jerked, rolled. I couldn’t control myself. Laughter cascaded from me as urine from an ACPO member. Amber and Jim initially seemed confused, but Rachel’s laughter seemed to give them confidence that I was just like that. Finally, I told Amber that she needed to press harder and that she had been tickling me mercilessly the whole time. She apologized to the inadvertent torture and proceeded to press harder. She pressed as hard as she could for the rest of the massage. And I laughed as hard and long as I have laughed in a long time.

Afterward, we went to the front of the parlor to pay for the relaxation. The receptionist was smiling and asking what exactly we were doing back there. Everyone in the lobby had heard my laughter from the back of the place. I doubt I will get another massage for a long time. I enjoyed it, but I don’t think it was worth the money. I expected the therapeutic effects to last at least a week, but alas they lasted only the rest of that day. Not good enough for what we paid. But, the effects of the laughter on my spirit and the relaxation and buoyancy I felt may have been.

My night with Hydrocodone

A few months ago, I had an ingrown toenail removed. The surgeon did not give the medicine enough time to fully numb my toe so I was screaming in pain through most of the surgery.

As a result, the doctor felt sorry for me and gave me a perscription for Hydrocodone; a stong pain killer that blocks the pain feeling from the brain. It turned out that my toe healed nicely and I never used any of the pills. It was interesting that at the pharmacy, they asked for my social security number because of the highly addictive nature of the pill.

I have kept the pills, since you never know when you may really hurt yourself, but have never used them. I gave some to some friends suffering from neck and back pain that their chiropractor was not able to fix, but mostly they have sat unused.

Saturday night, i decided to take half of one. They are easy to break in half. My justification was that we had driven to Birmingham that afternoon for someones baby shower. The drivers seat in my wifes car kills my back after an hour of sitting in it. In addition, holding a baby can stress ones muscles out more than you would think. I took hald of one at about 10pm and laid down to sleep. Here are some things I noticed about it...

Dreams; I remember NONE of my dreams that night. This is HIGHLY unusual for me. That is no sign of deep sleep for me. In fact, I woke up often hearing the baby cry. And when I got out of bed to walk, I was not dizzy or confusded or 'drunk' like I get with a muscle relaxer.

Thirst; I would wake up with the DRIEST mouth I have ever had. I could have drank a gallon of water if it was near me. My skin also felt very dry.

Dizziness: I wasn't dizzy at all. Nor did I feel "drugged" throughout this period.

Numbness; The interesting thing is that my body did NOT feel numb and it did NOT feel relaxed. As I woke up to pee around 2 or 3 am, I tested its effectiveness. I have a fever blister in my mouth. Always hurts to touch it with my tounge since it formed a few days ago. I touched it with my tounge as I walked to the potty and an immediate 'numb' feeling took the place of the normal pain. When I stopped pressing the sore, the numb feeling went away. I tried to pinch myself with my long index fingernail that I had yet to cut off. No pain, just a quick numb feeling.

It was kind of scary. Got up, went to church, and in church, I tried a few pain tricks again and the numbing thing still happened. This went on till about 10 or 11am Sunday.

So for about 12 hours, half a hydrocodone kept me from feeling any pain. I mean, I KNEW I was hurting myself (relatively) but the pain wasn't there.

So in case you care to take any Hydrocodone for pleasure, I am here to tell you that it really isn;t that fun. And not as relaxing as a muscle relaxer is. Or even an anti-inflamatory for that matter. And no, I don't have any left to give you. All trashed.

The Long And Dirty Tale Of The 35" Televison

Shortly after my brief affair with graduate school I landed myself a well paying job. I was young. I was single. I was making a lot more money than I had ever made in my life.

I bought a large, bulky 35" Sanyo television. This was long before flat screens and wide screens and easily lift able televisions. The thing was massive, weighed a ton and because of the shape of the tube it was incredibly difficult to hold onto.

But it showed a wonderful picture and it was nice and big to look at. I loved it.

Well I loved it, until I had to move anyways, and then I cursed at its weighty bulkiness. My poor father in law has helped me move it half a dozen times and every time he threatens to drop it accidentally-on-purpose.

With the China move I decided to sell it. I was tired of moving it, we had no room to store it and I figured with the money we'd make over seas I could afford a new one when we got back.

I posted it on local boards and a few national internet places as well. I put the price low and promised I could go lower for the right story. As I am forgetful and lazy and a procrastinator, none of this happened until about three weeks before we had to move.

Desperate is the word.

About a week into it I got an odd phone call. The call was from a third party operator who told me he had someone on the other line who was making the call, but who was on a keyboard. This person would type something, and then the operator would read it to me. I then responded and the operator typed out what I said.

At the end of each statement I made I had to say "go ahead" as the signal that I was done talking.

Sounds easy enough, and it was, except I kept forgetting to say "go ahead" and there would be these long pauses interrupted by the operator asking if I was done. Or sometimes there would be a long pause where the other guy had expected more out of me and he would ask me if I was still there.

At the time I thought he was just using some internet dealie instead of calling, perhaps to save on long distance, but now I guess he was hearing impaired.

Still we agreed on a price, and we arranged to set up details via the e-mail.

I sent the pricing and instructions on how to deliver. And waited.

And waited.

Just as I was getting perturbed, he e-mailed back. It sounded like all things were go, but to be honest the e-mail was so full of spelling and grammar mistakes, I wasn't sure what he was really saying. There was something about him needing to locate his shipper and something else about Western Union. To be honest again, it started to sound like a scam, but again it was so horribly written I couldn't be sure. I wound up replying that it was all ok and to simply let me know when he was ready.

More days passed and I sent another e-mail explaining I was leaving very soon and needed to get the sale completed by the next week. He e-mailed me saying he was sorry and that I would have the payment early the upcoming week. Again all the e-mails were poorly written and didn't make a lot of sense, but again I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

I got a few other responses but ignored them as I hoped this original one would come through.

About Wednesday I gave up and offered it to the church. After much discussion they arranged to have some stout fellas pick it up. We hobbled it down the stairway, nearly dropping it twice and I was finally done with the TV.

On Saturday, after we were already in Indiana I received an e-mail from dude asking me if I had received his payment. Suddenly his words were very clear and the deal he had tried to make with me was that I would cash his check and contact his shippers. For some reason he said he was unable to get his payment to the shippers in time so he sent "extra" to me. I was supposed to then go to Western Union and make the shippers payment via that service out of my own money - the payback was already in his check to me you see.

Scam city. I'm certain his check would have later bounced and he'd be walking away with my good payment to the shippers. I even suspect he would be the shipper and the whole weird phone call is so that I would not recognize his voice when he arrived for pick up.

I decided to not respond to his e-mail. The only things I could think of to say were rude, rude and socially unacceptable. As I had already given him information about me I didn't want to piss him off and make him do something harsh or illegal to my personage. There was also a small nagging part of me that thought maybe he was hard off and on the up and up and I didn't want to crush the poor guy.

He e-mailed me again the next day and I decided to write a polite letter explaining he was too late, that I had given it away, and that I would never pay his shippers as it sounded like a scam. Then I said don't contact me again.

He hasn't, but I still feel mad and dirty.

Let them eat cake

For my birthday, my wife surprised me with a strawberry cake... but not just any strawberry cake...

Back when my Granny was still alive and when I was much younger, she would bake me a homemade strawberry cake. Everything was homemade, right down to the strawberries that she grew herself (I fear memories like this will belong to fewer and fewer people as the years move on, but that's an entirely different blog.)

Granny never had a recipe for this cake. She never had a recipe for anything, but they always turned out wonderfully.

An aunt of mine managed to recreate Grannys strawberry cake and commit the recipe to paper. When I found this out, I asked for the recipe and we have had it for many years.
Larissa made said cake for me for my birthday. Sure, she didn't grow the strawberries, and the actual CAKE was from a box, but she did make the divinity icing from scratch.

Thought I would share the wonderful beauty of this cake!

Pictures Of World War I

I've recently become fascinated with World War I. There have been so many movies made, and words printed about World War II that it seems like the first one gets over looked. Perhaps thats because the reasons behind fighting WWII are more compelling and understandable, while the Great War is kind of muddled. Perhaps it is because more people are still alive that survived the second one. Maybe it is due to some other reason, I don't know. Whatever the reasons it is certainly more easy to find information on the second war than the first.

However, whenever I read about the first war, in some ways it seems even more horrific, disgusting and hellish than the second.

Photographic Hieght/Weight Chart

Very interesting and kind of cool little chart. Basically they have a graph breaking down a group of heights and weights and then anybody can add a photo of them self for that particular weight/height. It is kind of a cool way to see what other people in your own category look like. I wish they had a way where you could look at a picture and then guess their height/weight, but I guess this is a more serious exercise.

Harry Potter Speculation

I just went back and read Sipper's post, "Harry Potter Must Die" from October of last year. I must admit at the time I skipped that post entirely, and any comment about Harry Potter as I had not yet read any of the books or seen the movies (though I did read comments about other subjects.

I now want to comment on that post, plus add a few of my own speculations to the pile. Obviously I have now read all six available books and I watched the Order of the Phoenix last night.

Harry Potter shall not die. Sipper speculates (and I'll not comment on the fact that this speculation was coming from a man who had not yet read the books and could have only seen the first four films at that time) that Harry will, and in fact must, die by the end of the last books. His main points are that Rowling is writing in the tradition of Tolkein and Lewis and that they both knew, and therefore Rowling must also know that the only way to end a great fantasy is to allow their characters to die or go to heaven.

Now I have not actually read any of the Narnia books all the way through, and I am only familiar with the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, so I cannot comment too much on him, but I have read the Lord of the Rings series.

However I must immediately differ in opinions with Mr. Sipper. In the famous Lewis book, it is true that the main character, the lion king Aslan dies. However, like Jesus he comes back to life to save the day by books end. I think it is safe to say that Harry won't be resurrected in these books as he is not the Jesus figure. Perhaps I am missing something from the other books, and feel free to argue that out with me.

In LOTR though, almost everyone lives. In fact there is a long prologue discussing the long lives they all live after Mordor is destroyed. I suspect the argument is that the elves and Gandalf, etc all go away into some mystical land that is really heaven. Good arguments can be made for that allusion, and I don't want to argue them, but I don't see this as a real death finishing off the characters, but a way for them to move on and have a happy ending. There is a lot more too that, but I'll leave it vague for now.

Mainly though I don't think Rowling is in the same league as Tolkein and Lewis. She simply isn't as good a writer. Tolkein was writing very serious literature in the vein of a fantasy novel. Lewis was writing religious allegory. Rowling is writing pop fantasy. It is good pop fantasy, but I wouldn't really elevate it to great literature status.

She writes for the reader, and her readers will revolt if Harry dies. And even though her readers now include millions of adults, her books have always been essentially for children. Death of Harry is a very big blow to the kids. Having him die in battle will bring no real victory for him, and though she makes mentions of ghosts and a vague afterlife, there has been no strong foretelling of a heaven like place as in LOTR.

The prophecy also essentially says that Harry and Voldemort must battle and that only one will live. That's a crummy prophecy if both of them wind up dying. No, I think Harry will live to see the end of the book. I will say he might wind up living a difficult, sorrowful life after much like Frodo. But I kind of doubt that too.

But this long diatribe isn't just about Harry, but some of his gang too.

Dumbeldore shall rise again. Rowling has stated she is a fan of Lewis and partially modeled on the Narnia books. Dumbledore is the obvious leader and is a God-like character so he is a good choice to rise from the dead. Although I've never seen any official acknowledgment, he has always reminded me of Gandalf, whom as we know also came back from a grave, of sorts.

Then there is the phoenix, Dumbeldore's pet bird. It constantly dies and is reborn in a bit of fire. Remember then Dumbeldore's funeral where a great big fire arose out of his grave and the bird also flew over. Seems like a good allusion to Dumbeldore coming back.

He was also very interested in learning all he could about Voldemort, and especially his ability to be reborn so to speak. I think Dumbeldore has learned that magic and will come back from the grave just as Harry most needs him.

Snape is totally a good guy. His killing of Dumbledore was not only intentional, but demanded by Dumbeldore himself. When you read the end of the sixth book it read as though Dumbeldore was surprised by Snape and was overpowered by him. But if you read it in the context of Dumbeldore wanting to die, then the conversation reads more like Dumbeldore demanding Snape kill him while Snape tries to get out of it.

Sirius, I think is dead for sure, but I suspect he will come back in some form. Maybe as a ghost who helps Harry out in some way, like giving information. Though he might be more like Yoda in Star Wars.

I'm also going to state for the record that Ginny is going to bite it. We need another main character death, but we've come to love the rest of the Weasleys too much. Ron and Hermione have to fall in love so they are out. But Harry and Ginny will become much closer, she will fight bravely but will get smited. That way we have another good death, Harry suffers even more, and the fans can still take it.

Well, that was long, and it was written in two sessions, so my apologies if it seems disjointed. Mainly I wanted to get some HP discussion going.

Waiting on Harry Potter

Here is some footage of Sip and I as we waited to see the harry potter movie whos time got bumped up and left us waiting around doing nothing. But it was good to just sit, talk, and watch people for a while...

Greatest. Jeans. Ever.

Look how they getcha! That's how they getcha!

This is one of my most favorite scenese from Dr Katz EVER. I just posted it on my YouTube channel. I know Brew will get a kick out of this, but to this day, Sip and I still will shoot out a few phrases from this bit and laugh, while others (ussually our wives) look on confused, or ignore us. Don't eat the bread!

5 minutes of laughter

Mitch Hedberg. A regular on some later season Dr. Katz episodes. I got bored on youtube last night and looked him up. Hilarious. Dude is dead, did drugs pretty much his whole life.... well, weed I am sure at least. I think he got clean the last few years of his life, but still died, I am sure, of over use. In any case, he tells jokes, unlike other stand ups who sort of trick you into thinking they are telling you a 5 to 10 minute long story that is supposed to all flow together. Mitch just acts like he is thinking up funny things off the top of his head. And if ANYONE else said his jokes, they wouldn;t be funny. They need that sort of "high" feel to them to be funny. All clean jokes, here... enjoy, 5 minutes long. Worth it.

That's One Bad Anaconda

We'll Never Get Out Of This Place

The furnace at our apartment has not worked properly since last November. Over the winter the heat worked sporadically. It would blow hot air for maybe thirty minutes and then the air would turn coolish - not really cold, but not enough to properly heat either. After a few hours we could turn the heat back on and it would be warm again.

As our winter was mostly mild, and the thirty minutes was enough to keep the house relatively warm, and I'm not afraid of a bit of cold weather I never complained about it.

As it turned warm, however, we have learned out AC does not work either. In the Spring when we first needed to use the coolness of the air conditioner, we found that the unit wasn't really producing cold air. It was more like a perpetual fan. At first I didn't complain about this, because it wouldn't really bother me so much until night, and by then the office was closed. Then the next day would wind up being cooler and everything was OK.

For awhile.

Eventually there were several warm days in a row and I complained. Nothing really happened, but it would again get cooler and I would let it passed. This series - warm weather hitting, me complaining, nothing being done, cool weather - reoccurred several times over a couple of months.

Then it got very warm, and I complained a lot. Then the stories began coming. The maintenance man would look at it, adjust something and think he had it fixed. The problem was he would come on days that weren't too terribly hot and feel the air coming trough the vent and decide it was cool air, when in fact it was more like fan air.

It would get warmer, I'd complain more, he'd come back and adjust something else. This went on for a few weeks. Then he needed to order a part, but our units are so old finding parts are difficult. There were a lot of things said, and I won't flat out call them lies but in the end a lot of things didn't happen like they said they would.

Eventually the mystery part came and our air did work.

For awhile.

And by work I mean there was cool air, but it was weird. If I set the temperature gage at something normal, say 70 degrees, when the actual temperature arrived near that temperature, the pipes would freeze.

The only way the unit would work is if we ran it down at 50 degrees. Sweet cold air flowed. And flowed. And flowed. We would wake up in the middle of the night and it would be like 54 degrees inside. I worked out a system where I would run it like that then turn off the unit. It wouldn't get warm again until late in the afternoon the following day at which time I would crank it back down again.

This lasted maybe a month. One day the air was only semi-cool. It would get the temperature to about 72 degrees but no lower. Then the next day it was back to fan air again.

I complained everyday for a week and finally the maintenance came out and recharged the unit. It was cool for a day and then went back to fan air.

That was three weeks ago. Everyday I have complained since then. Everyday they tell me they will get it fixed.

It is currently 80 degrees in my apartment. This is cool to me now, as usually at this time it is close to 90 degrees. It rained today though, so it is a little cooler.

A few side notes:

The maintenance man is not certified. He likes to tinker with the units, but is not really qualified to fix them. Until yesterday they had never thought to call a qualified, certified HVAC person. The maintenance man also likes to take his time. If he says he'll be by in the morning we're lucky to see him the next day. He is horrible at communications too. He comes in, piddles with the switches then leaves for long stretches. He never tells us what he's doing.

He also doesn't tell the staff what he is doing, as they never, ever know.

The staff is incompetent. There are at least half a dozen girls working in the office. They work 9 in the morning to 8 at night, but there shifts are strange and interchangeable. They don't communicate together. So when one day I tell one girl the problem she will swear it will get fixed. To prove it she writes it down on a little pad. But then the next day I come to complain it isn't fixed another girl is sitting there and has no idea what I am talking about.

On and on it goes. At this point since I have been complaining every single day for three weeks a couple of the girls know me, and one of them remembers my problems, but the other one knows who I am but not my problem.

They all look at me like I'm crazy when I complain that it is freaking hot in my apartment.

The manager is certifiable. I'd guess she was in her 40s but it is hard to tell. She is full of wrinkles and her skin is full of leather. She is one of those ladies who spent her formative years fake baking in a tanning booth so that now her skin looks terrible. She is also one of those ladies who doesn't understand this concept.

I have never seen her in anything then a very short skirt with a top that squishes her breasts together and pokes them out. Today, I kid you not, her skirt was maybe 2 inches from her butt cheeks, it was see through enough to reveal her under garmets and I saw more leathery cleavage than I would ever wish upon a man.

Yesterday, a poor girl who I have only seen once before got a bit of my wrath. I demanded a real HVAC guy and she had to call the maintenance man twice. Promises were made that a real one would be here tomorrow at 2 in the pm.

It is currently five and no one has showed. Half an hour ago I saw the manager who had no idea what I was talking about. She was however, very concerned about her dog. She pointed me in the direction of the maintenance guy who was working on his truck. I had to go talk to him by myself. He promised the AC guy would be here today because, and I quote "he gets paid today."

When I asked him if he could make sure this man would check on my unit he gave a very vague response and then made an inside joke to his partner.

We are moving to Oklahoma soon. Our furniture is already moved out, but Amy needs to do some things at the library so she'll have materials for her dissertation. I'm ready to burn the place down and forget about it all.

Sorry for the long rant, but I'm super pissed but am such a weenie that I can't really curse the apartment people out.

The Great Neutralizer

How's Larissa... How are you... How's the baby...?

FINE! FINE! FINE! FINE! FINE! FINE! FINE! FINE! FINE! FINE! FINE! FINE! FINE! FINE! FINE!

There... I feel better.

At work, and at church, the 3 questions you see above are what i get asked on a continual basis... almost as if the people I go to church with and work with are on some sort of question-shift where there must always be someone asking me those questions.

Don;t get me wrong, they are sweet and lovely people for being concerned no doubt. But the funny thing is that one lady at work sees me every day, and will ask me those questions each time she sees me... sometimes (no lie) she will see me, ask the questions, then see me a few hours later and ask again!

My answer is ussually a smile, and "Fine, thank you for asking."

Tonight at church, I dropped the "thank you for asking" and just said "Fine." Sometimes with a smile.. Eventually, someone that asked me earlier heard me say "Fine" to someone else. She said "Thats's all he keeps saying about it!" To which I replied "There are 500 people at this church, if I stopped to give them all a run down on my days I would be here all day." Okay, they know that "That's just Jamison" but some found me to be quite rude. I dont think people are used to hearing people tell them what they think without censorship.

The funny thing, is that I know how alot of these people are. If I said "Oh, he is a dream baby! He never cries, sleeps 6 hours at night, eats like a charm without fussing, doesn't kick like a black-belt in karate when I try to change his diaper..." they would say "Just wait till he is 3 weeks old" or 4 weeks, etc...

If I said "Oh my, he is terrible, he poops all day long, it stinks, it gets on me, he cries like a ring wraith when he feeds, and I only get 59 minutes of sleep a day" They would all say "It will get better."

So, in a way, the "How are things?" people really just want to nuetralize you. If things are going good, then wanna bring you down a notch. If you are doing poorly, they want to lift you up. I give them no such satisfaction so I just say "Fine."

A side note, a gal at church who has a 6 month old never asked me how things were going though mom and I sat next to them. But after church she asked if she could call us or come by this week. To which I responded "That would be wonderful."

FYI, the photo on this blog was not staged or planned. My wife took it unbenounced to me. We let Ty sleep with us for a few hours each night. Either first thing as we go to bed or after his last feeding of the night (4am-ish).

Oh, and by the way... things are fine.

Cat Wake-up Call

Sorry to interupt the baby talk, but this is semi-appropritate as a cat is as close to having a baby as I'm going to have...for awhile.

I no longer need an alarm clock anymore for I have a cat. Every morning anywhere from 6 to 8 in the am, my cat Thumbelina, decides it is time for me to get up. Her first measure of offense to get me out of bed is simple pouncing. She jumps up onto my bed, and then onto my body, usually with another jump.

If she is lucky this is met with a simple “umph” from myself, followed by a gentle swat to get her off of me.

If my wife is not so lucky, Thumbelina dodges my swat with a giant leap off of me and onto the wife’s belly. This is followed by a large “oooooowwwww!” from my wife and a not so gentle swat to the cat.

This usually gets rid of the cat for ten minutes or so.

Just like a snooze alarm, she comes back for more.

Often the jumping/swatting routine is repeated several times. As I ease into awaked-ness I am less likely to swat the cat away as to simply let her be. What this means for the cat is that she begins to crawl across my body.

I am typically a side sleeper, as sleeping on my belly isn’t comfortable and sleeping on my back makes me snore and gives me nightmares. So, the cat tends to start somewhere near my middle, crawling across my hips onto my ribcage and sometimes up to my shoulders. Most of this is quite uncomfortable and eventually I make the roll over to get her off which usually makes Thumbelina jump onto Amy again and we start the snooze process all over again.

After all of this Thumbelina still has one more move to get me out of bed. She no longer tries to walk on me to get me up, but rather nuzzles up beside me. Take this morning for example – after jumping on me a time or two she crept up towards my hands and gently bumped them with her head.

Thumbelina is very much a lap-cat and when she cannot find a lap on which to cuddle, she rubs her head gently upon a part of my body. While lying in bed early this morning, this is exactly what she did to my hand – with a little nasty addendum.

She nuzzles the hand briefly as if to let me know she means no harm, and then she brings out the claws. Internally I’m thinking – oh how nice a little head but to let me know she loves me – and then she scratches the crap out of me.

Actually it isn’t too bad a scratch as more of a letting me know she can get violent if I don’t get up soon. Like a trained killer she doesn’t scratch my skin to leave any evidence, but gives me just enough pain to give me a warning.

This garners a pretty big swat. But she isn’t through. Oh no, if I am still not up she comes back with more head cuddles and menacing scratches.

At this point I either throw her out of the room and shut the door (knowing full well she will only scratch at the door) or I actually get up and feed her or let her outside or do whatever it is she wants.

She’s a crafty one that cat of mine.

Tyler pics

Of course, I have to show him off...

Go here for all the pics...

http://community.webshots.com/album/559686630hSxJjc#

Love you all very much, thanks for the prayers. Sorry if I am short with any one of ya'll. My body had gotten used to more than one hour of sleep per night, so it is having to adjust a bit... :)

The Origin of Harrison

This is the story of Harrison’s birth. Diana’s part is italicized, Charlie’s is not.

Diana was ready to get the baby out. Our doctor had told us before that it completely safe to induce labor if we so desired. Diana had made up her mind that she wanted to do just that, even though the baby was due in just four days. (If you doubt Diana’s determination, I have videotape of her waddling to the stage, eight months pregnant, to receive her college diploma.) He loves to brag on me. I was also getting anxious to see what all the fuss was about, especially after a frustrating bout of false labor a few days earlier. So we called and made an appointment with the OBGYN to get induced.

After the usual check-up, the nurse checks to see how dilated Diana is. The nurse pulls out her fingers, and there is blood on them. Diana says, “I know what that means!” The nurse left the room to go check with the doctor. I had no idea what was going on. Diana tells me (and the doctor later confirms) that she is already in the first stage of labor. Well, that’s a relief, I thought ... although in retrospect, I was nowhere near relief.

We had to kill some time before going to the hospital (so they could be ready for us), so we made some phone calls and went to see Diana’s dad since he works nearby. He manages a K & W (a cafeteria-style restaurant). Diana had pie (I’m in labor and that’s all I can think about. Pie.), and I had some french fries because we had breakfast before going to the OBGYN. Diana’s dad was, of course, excited.

We got to the hospital about noon, filled out the forms, were escorted to our room, and waited. The doctor came shortly thereafter and broke my water. Then she told us to walk around. Our hospital is a little on the small side, so there was only so much of that we could do. Diana had some mild contractions, but nothing to get excited about. After a couple of hours, it was decided that medication was needed to speed up the whole contraction process. The small bit of Pitocin they gave me was just enough to remind my body of what it was supposed to be doing.

Once the medication began to take effect, the contractions were definitely stronger. I was no longer sitting on the sidelines, either playing my DS or reading Wizard. It was time for me to do my part. I sat or stood next to Diana for pretty much the rest of the labor process.

I would go get ice chips for her, and give her one when she needed it. I hooked her Ipod up to a portable mini-speaker system we had so she could listen to her favorite songs. Mostly, I just held her hand, encouraged her when she needed it, and shut up when she didn’t.

The contractions kept getting worse and closer together. She wasn’t getting enough time to rest between the contractions, so they gave her some medication for just that purpose. Stadol was wonderful. I would be half asleep, start having a contraction, wake up, scream my head off, and then drift back off.

Around eight p.m., my parents came to visit. Shortly after that, Diana’s dad and step mom arrived. They all ended up staying through to the delivery.

The stronger and more painful the contractions were, the closer I knew I was to seeing Harrison. The more it hurt, the less likely I was to cave in and get an epidural. Don’t get me wrong, it was terrible, but I knew it was pain with a purpose. The last few hours of labor flew by because of how intense it all became. Before I knew it, it was 11 p.m. and I was ready to push.

It took a minute to get a good idea of how to push and what everything felt like. After I had my body scoped out, there was no stopping me. The doctor said whenever I felt the urge to go ahead and push with the contractions. She also said to push harder the more it hurt. When I felt a contraction coming, I just took a deep breath, grabbed the handles on the bed and pushed as hard as I could. Before I knew it, the nurse said I could feel the baby’s head. The doctor then turned to Charlie and said; “It will be any minute now. Pretty soon, I will tell you to put down Diana’s leg. Then I want you to reach down, grab Harrison, and put him on Diana’s stomach.” Charlie shrugged. “O.K.” This from the guy who wasn’t sure if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord. Soon after that, the doctor told me to stop pushing for a minute. I knew from my preparation that this was to suction his airway and turn his shoulders. I thought at the time it took a little longer than it should, but I didn’t know why until later.

The doctor looked at Charlie and said “O.K. Put her leg down and reach down here. Diana, PUSH!” One more push and Harrison was out. Charlie placed him on my stomach and my little boy that I had been dreaming about was here. I didn’t cry when he was born, I just smiled the biggest smile ever.

They whisked him away to clean him off. I looked up at the clock and said “Did I seriously just push out a baby in 22 minutes?” The doctor laughed and said yep. I watched them examine Harrison as the doctor put me back together. I remember seeing Charlie cut the umbilical cord across the room, which I thought was strange. The nurse then came to me and said “I know you wanted to nurse him in the delivery room, but we’re going to have to take him to the nursery because he’s not breathing as well as we would like.” Then, they let me hold him for a minute before they took him off to get better. Although I was worried at seeing how pale he was, I knew he was in good hands.

Later, I found out the reason for the breathing problems and why it took the doctor so long when I wasn’t supposed to push and why Charlie cut the umbilical cord after he was born was because it was wrapped around his neck. The doctor had to cut if off before he could be born. We are very blessed, because if I had had to push longer, Harrison might have been in some serious danger.

Now of course, he’s fine. I thank the Lord everyday for my beautiful boy. I’m so glad my birth experience was what I wanted it to be. Charlie was wonderful throughout the whole thing. It’s a lot of pain and a lot of work, but it’s sooo worth it.

A Boy

I have no picture yet. I left my camera at the hospital. Larissas mom and sister took over for my mom and dad today at the hospital. Mom and dad headed home. I got 40 minutes of sleep last night. When i get little sleep, I get VERY emotional about everything, so add having a beautiful healthy baby boy by a beautiful healthy wife, you can imagine I am a basketcase right now.

I agreed I needed to come home and take a few hour's nap, but not without blogging first. Though, I could not leave without bawling because I didnt want to leave him and I sit here crying as I type just thinking about it. Everyone who says it is right; it is unlike any love I have ever known. One would think I would be happy to get away from a being that cant talk, smile, needs diaper changing, and shreiks worse than a Ring Wraith causing me to get no sleep. But the offer of quiet sleep filled me with saddness. And my wife, she gets no such luxury, so I feel guilty now... but all insisted, so here I am.

All you guys were right. And I never understood it. Brew, I suspect you are like I was... not understanding this love. I shan't even being to describe it. I thought I would not want to see him come out. I didnt sit next to the doctor, but from the spot at my wifes head, I could see is head emerge, quickly followed by his full body. His first cry had my hugging my wife as we both cried.

I no longer care about what others think of me, I no longer care of material posessions, I no longer care about myself. It is a crazy feeling.

My parents and her parents are amazing. Even if Larissa and I though we could pay them back for all the money they have spent on us in the past few months, it wouldnt touch their true worth to us. And our friends, likewise. I dont know how people do it without good family and friends.

Blast From the Past Tuesday... Babies

Here is a blast from the past titled "Babies" from Rachel on November 11, 2005... Thought it was a fitting blog to post today considering my situation...

Here's a little quote I had as a mantra for a while: "When you wake up one day and say, you know, I don't think I'll ever need sleep or sex again... Congratulations! You're ready to have children." (Ray Romano)

But really, I can't count the number of times I wanted to just drop the birth control pills and get pregnant. I'm so glad I didn't because now I've got Luke and we're in a situation where I can stay at home with him and not worry too much about money or anything else. I finished school.

Sometimes I wonder if it was worth it, since nobody really asks you if you've got an art degree when applying for the job of stay-at-home mom. But then Josh reminds me what an accomplishment it was, how proud I can be, and that in the future I may want to get a job where it'll come in handy. And he's right.

First, let me say that I've never been happier in my whole life. But let me also say that I didn't get a full night's sleep for well over a year. Luke woke up every single hour many many nights. I (and Josh) was lucky to get 3 solid hours of sleep. I was a zombie. A happy zombie, but a zombie nonetheless. I could not have gone to school during this time even if it had been the second grade. School is different from work in two very important ways: one, you don't get paid, but you pay out to go to school; and two, the bulk of your work is done at home after-hours when you're in school.

Baby and Frog

First, my wife will be induced this week. Put it this way, I don;t think we will be at church for Wednesday night Bible study... keep us all in your prayers. I will have my laptop and I will have internet access... so try to keep me company. If you have gmail, log on to see if I am online...



Second... went out in my backyard tonight, the bugs and such are very loud at night this time of year in my neighborhood and I like to listen to them... almost stepped on this little guy. If my motion lights hadn't have come on, he would have been goo on my bare foot... he seems to have tried to bury himself in the ground... wicked frog eyes...

3 things I have learned from being an almost-father..

Being that my dear wife is having our child soon, I thought I would post some things I have learned about having a baby. Not about giving birth to a child, but 3 things I have learned from all the gifts we have received from the baby showers that our beautiful family and friends have thrown for us... Please know that nothing listed is a complaint, but amusing observations. Let me know if you too have found these to be true;

1. Everything requires batteries. And I am not talking about items you would classify as electronics. I am talking about virtually everything that doesn't fall under the category of "stuffed animal", though, many of them do. We got a pack and play and it came with this light that vibrates and plays music. We ended up trashing it. A bouncy-seat... batteries. Oh, and don't think that these battery compartments open as easily as the battery compartment on your TV remote. You actually need a screwdriver to open this thing to get batteries in. Oh, and batteries are NOT included... see ya when you get back from Radio Shack... for the 5th time this week...
   


2. Few, if any noise-making toys have on/off switches. If a toy or item plays "Old MacDonald Had A Farm"*, you can rest easy at night knowing that there will not be an on/off switch... much less a volume knob. What is ironic is that while so many items need batteries, the most annoying ones that play loud music require none! This has to be a joke. Not only can you not turn them down, not only can you not turn them off, but by golly, you can't even take the batteries out to shut it up!
   *"Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", "Camp town Races", and "Rock-a-bye Baby" can also be added to this list.
   


3. Toy manufacturers do not want your child playing with the toys they make. Stay with me here. No matter how soft, how safe, or how non-dangerous a toy may be, toy manufacturers will always attach them to the toy packaging tighter than a medieval heretic by Catholic clerics. You literally need scissors to get a teething ring of its cardboard backing. It is as if they just wanted to sell the item, not expecting it to ever be used.

By the way, the Computer Lady offered up some labor advice to me the other day. She was telling me the story of how Ms Elizabeth (Elizabeth Wright Smith for all those who went to Faulkner. A beautiful older lady who beat cancer naturally and has to be 90 but looks and acts 70) induced her first child...

"Ms. Elizabeth told me she wanted to have her baby a month early on her father's birthday so she got up that morning, drank an entire bottle of caster oil, scrubbed the kitchen floor on her hands and knees, took her gun and her dog to go hunting and promptly went into labor that night. So if you just buy Larissa some caster oil and possibly a hound dog, you could have a baby this weekend. "

P.R.

So I know this isn't a good post, and I would have emailed it to you guys, but I figured this blog is read by more than those I will email and alot of prayer is needed...

My brother lives in a house that has a chimney that is occupied by racoons. A cute story of these racoons is that a baby racoon fell and was in his fireplace. He is a gentle man so he kept the baby in a cage, hoping he could nurse it back to health. His neighbor had run the 'mama' racoon off into the woods. Days went by and this baby ate nothing and only stayed huddled in a corner. He was told by friends to let the baby go or it will die, but he was afraid an owl or some beast would take it and eat it.

So that eve, he releases the baby and the mama racoon appears out from behind a tree and the two run off together. She was waiting for her baby the whole time...

Well, the racoons came back. At some point when they left to find food, my brother decided to get on the roof and cover the chimey top... so as to avoid another falling of the 'coon.

Well, he fell off and broke many ribs and punctured his lung and is in ICU.

So please, say a prayer for him and the doctors and nurse staff.

Thanks, love you all.

Wierdest Day Of My Life

Of course when I want to bring a little life into the blog by posting some old posts, Chuck would post a new one and mine would push his down... NOT INTEDED MY FRIEND!

I had this idea to do some old posts that were really good. We have alot of new readers and figured that they'd like to share in the good stories we have all read in the past. I am now posting one of my favorite blogs from Di....

I've never had to call Mall security until yesterday. A manager in our other BBW store was "let go" on Friday.

I'm not really sure of the details of why, but let's just say she didn't take it well. She threw her keys at the co manager and proceeded to say things about the store manager that I wouldn’t wish on anybody. She also said a lot of words I've only heard used on Sex and the City. Of course, guess who gets to go clean up the mess.

Before Charlie and I left for our Wilmington trip on Friday, I got a call from my store manager asking if I'd help out. I said yes, because I was already scheduled to go down there and help in a few weeks when the store manager has her baby. I left early yesterday so I had a chance to go by my mall and get the keys to the other store and ask my boss questions about the store. She left me with a warning " ***** has not been taking her termination well. She has been very verbally abusive, she's come by the store a few times, and she has said some pretty terrifying things. If she comes in the store to cause trouble, ask her to leave. If she doesn't leave, call Mall Security and have her removed from the store.

I was scheduled to work at 1-10 shift. When I got there, the co manager gave me the run down and I got acquainted with the layout of the store. Then she left to go on break. About 20 minutes later, ****** walks in the store. I didn't want to ask her to leave right away, so I watched her for a minute. She was talking to the associate about the store manager, walking behind the counter, being loud. I wanted to call my boss to make sure it was ok to ask her to go, but she kept walking in the back room! Then she said she'd be back later, and she left. I went to the back to call my boss to see what to do if she comes back. I was told to ask her to leave when she returned. As my co manager is asking me questions, my associate walks in the back door. "She's back and is demanding to know who you're talking to." I hang up the phone and walk out to talk to her. "*****, I'm so sorry, but I've been instructed that if I see you in the store, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.""By who?", "By the people above me. I'm sorry, those are just my orders." "Well, you can just tell them that [the store manager] is a F&%!ING LIAR and that I know what she did! (And here she gets in my face) I also know that they did this so you can get my job, so you just better watch you F&*#ing back!" and she walks out and sits on a bench right in front of the store.

First of all, the whole thing had nothing to do with me. Second of all, I can tell when somebody is saying things because they're mad, and when somebody is serious and wants to mess you up. She scared the crap out of me. I stood there a second and went to the back to call my boss. I explained the situation (shaking like a leaf!) and she said she would call the DM. He calls a minute later and says that I need to call Mall Security and have her removed. Mind you this is not my store, so I don't even know where the number is. I found it, called and they responded. About 4 of them. The mall I was working at is like a ghost town, so I'm sure they all sit around waiting for calls like this. I explained the situation and they said they can't take her out of the mall, but they can make sure she doesn't come back in the store. So they stood outside the door in front of her for about an hour. In the middle of all this, the co manager comes back from break and sees security guards everywhere. I explain the whole thing and the next hour she gets calls from ***** and her husband, yelling at her. Our DM calls and instructs the co manager to tell her she's not welcome in any of the BBW stores in the area.

So, I'm not going to lie, I was pretty jittery yesterday. It took a few hours to get my heart rate back to normal. I was afraid to go on break, let alone leave in a dark parking lot! We had a security guard walk us out. But then in my car I kept looking in my rear view mirror to make sure no one was about to shoot me.I don't have to work in their store until Saturday, so hopefully the whole thing will have blown over.The end. :)

Can I Get a Receipt?

It's bad enough that gas prices are way too high, but it seems like gas stations everywhere are trying to save money (or make money). Am I crazy?

Lately when I go to the pump, I get frustrated because I never know if I'm going to have to either dig for a pen and piece of paper or walk inside to request a receipt from the cashier. And, it doesn't matter where I stop for gas. It seems that more often gas stations aren't refilling receipt paper at the pumps. I don't know if they are trying to get me to walk in and make an "impulse purchase" or what. But it's driving me nuts! I just want to pull up to the pump, swipe my card, press "YES" for receipt, finish pumping, yank receipt from pump, and drive away. Is that too much to ask? I know this much, I refuse to purchase anything if I do walk in for a receipt.

Jamison did not write this.

My new "before the baby comes" toy

I bought a nintendo wii. Thought it would be funny for everyone to see me playing the wii boxing game. Loads of fun.

Getting yo "Jesus freak" on

Thought it was funny... Anytime the word "Holy" is used in the same line as "Hip Hop" ya gotta crack a grin.

This is a banner for the church next door to ours. It no doubt makes visitors of our church cock their heads in wonderment as to the style of worship we have at Dalraida.... thinking the sign is for us.

Blogging Finally Pays Off

About a year ago, I wrote a silly little post telling the story of my first pair of Dr. Marten shoes. Many of you know this story, as many of you have worn those very shoes.

About a week ago, I got an odd little comment on that story from a guy who listen a Dr. Marten URL in the comments and claimed to be a representative of the company. He was complimentary of my posting and asked me for my shoe size and address, for he wanted to send me a new pair.

I was a little bit worried that it might be some sort of scam, but the e-mail listed was @drmarten.com or some official looking thing, and it seemed a very odd scam, so I dropped him a line. We chatted a few times and he promised to send me some shoes.

Yesterday, I received those shoes from UPS! Lovely brown things that fit perfectly and are as comfortable as I remember.

I guess my years of blogging are finally starting to pay off. For my next story I think I’m going to write about the wonders of a new car, and living in million dollar houses. Who knows what I’ll get in the mail!

Diana's In Labor!

All elements of surprise aside, Baby Stubbs is on his way into the world! Last night, Diana called me to discuss the fact that her doctor recommended inducing labor today because of his increasing size. Now, Diana is vehemently opposed to using an epidural- she wants a natural birth, and more power to her for that. So inducing was a scary proposition, because pitocin causes contractions to come on hard and fast; trust me, I know! By the time I got my epidural with Luke, I was shaking uncontrollably and throwing up from the pain. So Diana was going to talk it out with her doctor this morning at her regular appointment, and if she and Charlie so decided, would go ahead and get on the pitocin drip, or "pit" as the nurses affectionately and appropriately call it.

Well, when the doctor examined her this morning, Diana was discovered to be in labor already! So no pitocin, just a good old natural labor. When she called, they were "killing a half hour" as instructed by the doctor, and getting their labor bags out and ready. Last I spoke to her, Diana said she was feeling cramps, but no full-on contractions.

Krewe of Lafitte

Booty with prized "Five Flags" fiesta beads in foreground

Last night the family went to the Krewe of Lafitte parade. I was going to have some great photos of the parade, but we could not find our new camera and then my mobile phone somehow was set to the lowest resolution possible. So forgive the quality of the small photo below.

We had a great time. My 93 year old grandmother was there and was abundantly beaded by the end of the night. People were walking up to her and Alexandra with gifts and beads. There was even one vehicle that was throwing out mini Blue Bell ice cream sandwiches.

For general photos go to the Pensacola News Journal Web site.

May 24th, 1997

My life is complete,
And my heart is full.

Memories along with future memories
Make me love you all the more.

With you, I could attain any goal I desire,
And with you I will.

"Without you" is a thought far from my mind.
And each day, God grants my wish to be with you.

Had I never met you, I would have never known
how much I need you as I do today.

Stay with me,
Wholly one,
Forever in love,
And I promise to do the same.

A couple of you may recognize this. 10 years ago on the date above Jodi and I said "I Do and I will." (The "and I will" was my spontaneous reaction to her Grandfather's "I Do" question. After hearing my response, Jodi added "and I will" to her "I Do.") During that ceremony I had my friend and Groomsman, Jeff, read that poem aloud. I penned it for Jodi's 19th birthday card. We had nothing at that point, literally. I could barely afford the card.

It's amazing where God takes you in life, but as I typed those words a moment ago. I recalled the emotion of the original ink. I wish I could write such beautiful words today, but alas my feelings don't flow onto paper as well as they once did.

I just wanted to share with everyone a special memory.

Exodus 20:3

I had my alarm set to radio today and I woke up to a news story that a top scientist at NASA had come to a conclusion that global warming just isn't something we should really worry about. He said this in an NPR interview.

In what would seem like seconds in the media world, PR officials at NASA scrambled to save face. A NASA official said of his statement: "It was a shocking statement because of the level of ignorance it indicated with regard to the current situation. He seemed unaware that 170 nations agreed that climate change is a serious problem with enormous repercussions, and that many people will suffer if it is not addressed." ... Wow, nations agreed that it was a problem... If just agreeing on something makes it fact, maybe we can get 100 people to agree that I am a rich Kentucky Colonel surrounded by beautiful southern women in tight corsets.

This made me think back on how so many Hollywood elite, or mainstream leftist politicians act when real live SCIENTISTS downplay the global warming issue; They react with, in many cases quite literally, weeping and gnashing of teeth. Why? If they are so against global warming and want the "problem" to be gone, why not say "HOORAY!!!" when a scientist says it ain't a problem? If people were dying all over the earth and the cause of death was a rise in the earths temperature by 1 degree, then I would say it is a problem, but so far, other than some smog in busy cities (which is being decreased) I don't see the problem... and apparently, neither do alot of scientist WAY smarter than me, and certainly smarter than alor of actors in Hollywood. I mean, forget the fact that during the so called "Ice Age" scientists agree that the glaciers melted on their own... without one jet flown by the Clintons and without one Hummer being driven by Sly Stallone.

This post isn't really focused on my opinion, but rather my common sense views, but even more so on the fact that we have a new religion in this world. Environmentalism. Don't get me wrong. I don't litter, I drive cars with pretty good gas mileage, and I hate oil spills. But think of it this way. In your mind, describe your reaction when you, a God-fearing person who believes in their heart of hearts that God created this earth in 7 days about 6,000 to 10,000 years ago. Now, someone tells you "Creation didn't happen." or "The earth is millions of years old." Let us say these men who tell you these things are scientists... WAY smarter than you. Do you believe them? Of course not. What if a handful or real scientists (Not affiliated with a church) say that they have found record of a worldwide flood thousands of years ago? Or say they have found that the earth actually is no more than 10,000 years old. You probably would hoop and scream for joy and hold those scientist upon your shoulders. Why? Because what they say goes along with what you believe religiously.

So go back to the environmentalism church. They react the same way when a scientist says something that goes against their belief. In truth, they kind of WANT the world to be at risk. Once the world is safe, they no longer have any work to worship. They want to be little gods who are responsible for mankind and the earth.

Going back to an earlier example. Let us say that you love steak. You don't worship steak, you just like to eat it. Now you are eating a steak and watching TV when a panel of scientists come on and say "Do not eat steaks bought a week or less ago, there is a strain of bacteria in all cows used to make steaks recently." Well, you may put your fork down and stop eating. You may even finish that steak, wipe your mouth off, and cross "Steak" off your shopping list for next week until the scare goes away. However, if perhaps you were a "Steakist" and believed that all steaks were good for you, and you found a few scientists that felt that the bacteria wasn't dangerous to humans, you' would keep eating steak and worship it by anointing it with A1 steak sauce.

I don't really want to stir up a political or social discussion, I just couldn't help but notice that a large sect of certain political leaders and alot of Hollywood folks (who say you should save the world by only wiping with "one square of toilet paper per day" -Sheryl Crow) may not worship God and may not give a flip about who Jesus is, but ya gotta hand it to them, they do love religion. Which kind of solidifies the idea about human nature; That humans feel some need to worship or have a greater power than them in control.

My opinion; I really don't think us little humans can destroy a earth that God created. Does this mean I am going to test God by trying to trow a bunch of batteries in the trash or dumping my radiator fluid down the storm drain? Never. I just think the destruction of the earth is on God's watch, not in our hands.

Castor Oil

Here I am. The nursery is finished, the house is clean, the bags are packed, the birth plan written. Every thing is ready. I desperately miss sleeping normally, painting my toe nails, and, oh yeah, not being huge. So it’s easy to figure out why in a moment of desperation Monday night I tried one of the oldest old wives tails in the book. I drank some castor oil.

Castor oil, for those who don’t know, is a laxative. It is thought to “induce” labor by causing your intestines to spasm, which in turn, causes the uterus to contract. After researching it online, I learned that one of two things would happen. Either I would need to go to the bathroom A LOT or I would need to go to the bathroom A LOT and I would have a baby. Again, I’m a desperate woman.

I took the stuff about 9 pm. I mixed a two oz. bottle with half a can of coke (something someone online recommended.) It wasn’t too bad. I mean I’m not going to go to a restaurant and order it, but it wasn’t horrible. The worst part was my last swallow because some of the oil had already settled at the bottom and I got a swig of just castor oil. Ugh.

So we sat around, watched some special on the History Channel about Star Wars, and about 11 pm I got sleepy. I went to bed, only to wake up an hour later needing to…well you know. Then about 2 am, they started. I’ve already had contractions here and there, so I knew what they were. They weren’t bad but I started having a lot.

I walked into the living room where Charlie was reading and watching T.V. “Honey,” I said, “I’m having a lot of contractions, and they’re no big deal, but I think we should start timing them.” Well that got him excited. He got out his watch and a little notebook and started writing them down. My doctor has advised me to go to the hospital when contractions are about 5 minutes apart and about 45 seconds long. Other doctors may suggest something else. After about 30 minutes, mine were averaging about 3 minutes apart and about 45 seconds long. However, even though I was uncomfortable, I didn’t really feel in labor. So we called the hospital. The nurse said to stay home until contractions began to intensify. Then, we needed to go to the hospital.

I decided I just wanted to relax and watch The Little Mermaid. Charlie started to get ready. He got dressed, he made sure his bag was packed, he practiced cutting the umbilical cord on a hot dog. I just sat there watching Ariel, nothing changing, nothing getting more intense, and no baby coming.

Needless to say, nothing every happened. At about 8 am, my contractions fizzled out and I realized that Harrison was not coming after all.

The moral of the story: If you’re pregnant and you want your baby to come, don’t drink castor oil unless you want to poo a lot and want a big let down.

Figured out why I loved womens curling

I loved watching womens curling during the winter olympics. it was about the only event I SCHEDULED time to watch....

I guess I never knew why, until I saw this video... Ignore the photos... just listen... Awwww yeah....

No Fighting Boys!

I remember Mullins saying to me once how he wanted to arrange a mariage between Isaac and Alexandra. Unfortunately, Luke had first dibs. I have pics to prove it. Well, it turns out Noah and Caleb might be fighting over our second daughter. We just learned today I was going to forge new ground for the Midnight Cafe by having 2 girls in the family.

I was going to post some pics, but I found out my scanner needed some drivers after an XP crash a few weeks ago. I'll try to do that a soon as I finish the driver download.

The Brewster's Are Going To China

We got the offer to go to China today. We will accept tomorrow. We have to be there early August.

Holy Crap!

We have talked about this for so long now it is unbelievable that it is actually happening now. It feels a little like we’re being whisked along without much control. When I sent our resumes I just wanted to see what would happen, or how we would react if we got a response. Then we got a response and now and offer, and I can’t think of what else we would do, so we go.

I’m really excited, and incredibly nervous.

There is so much to do, too. We have to get work Visas. Amy has to have her dissertation proposal approved. I plan to sell most of our furniture and haven’t the slightest idea how much to ask for anything, or how to even go about it. My dad says he can store anything else. We have a car to sell, insurance to obtain, packing to do….and more things I can even imagine at the moment.

China. Unbelievable.

The art (and workmanship) of Kellie-J

Kellie J... if you know her, you love her. if you don't know her, you've no doubt heard tales of her and you feel like you know her.

She is, as some of you know, in a tough situation now. It is unfair and shouldn't be happening to as nice a person as her. But never the less, she is in it.

THis situation prevents her from being near a computer, much less an internet connection. Whats worse is that she can only go home to see her husband for a few days at a time. Sounds like jail, but it isn't. Though she may describe it as something close to that.

This post is not to describe her situation. It is hers and I leave it up to her to decide who knows about it and who doesn't (In any case, please pray for her, she is a good soul and a sweet girl).

Due to the situation she is in she has forced herself to stay busy (for her sanity). And this week she decided to start BUILDING (Yes, I said BUILDING) a toy box for her nephew. Well, she succeeded in less than a week. And of course it had to be painted. If you know KellieJ you know she is a good artist with a very original style. The paintings had no reference points. They are shaped simply out of her idea of the nursery rhymes. She sent them to my email via her cell phone and I asked her if I could share them with the cafe... enjoy (and click for larger images)

Church For Sale

I’ve been meaning to post this for awhile, and Charles’ last post has reminded me to do it.

The congregation Amy and I attend is apparently located on some prime real estate. It is near a large shopping district, is a block away from a major state highway (which is also the route to Indianapolis) and sits on the corner of two busy city roads.

A few weeks ago the church was contacted by CVS. It turns out they are highly interested in this piece of property and want to buy. They are offering a very substantial amount of money. Part of the deal is that CVS agrees to buy the church another piece of land in the same area of town and build a brand new building, to our specifications, on top of it.

It’s really a very sweet deal, and from what I can tell, everyone is all for it. This is interesting to me, since many of our members would fall into the camp that the church shouldn’t have bake sales and yard sale, or in anyway take “outsiders” money for the church. And yet CVS (a company who will surely sell such unsavory items as booze and cigarettes and all kinds of unsavory magazines) flashes some big bills in front of our eyes, and suddenly everything is ok.

Why Can't Church Do That?

I've had this one in the back of my mind for a while, but it resurfaced today. Our congregation is having a Yard Sale at the building to support the youth group's summer mission trip. Someone asked me about it, and I can not for the life of me figure out what would be wrong with such an event.

I had spoken to the preacher at my last congregation about it after he mentioned it being wrong in a sermon to have a "church sponsored" yard sale. I asked him, "So if we can't have a church wide 'sanctioned' yard sale, can 5 or 10 familys get together to have a yard sale at someone's home and give that money to the church or a special mission trip fund?" He said, "sure." I said, "so what is the difference with the elders saying, 'we support this; bring your stuff; the teens will do the work and keep the proceeds for the mission trip.'?" The basic answer I got was, "It's just different." Sorry, that's not an answer that's a cop-out. I just can't see a difference, nor can I see a Biblical reason why a "Church santioned" yard sale is wrong?

The only example that I can think that could be remotely related in the Bible is the money changers and animal sales in the temple. And the problem there seems to me that people were lining their own pockets. I do not mean to step on toes (and I don't think it really applies), but this would more closely related to selling Mary Kay or Boy Scout Popcorn at Church.

The Brew Wedding

In case you didn't get to go to the Brew wedding, or in case you just want to relive the fun times of it, here is the video! Enjoy!




I am posting this with semi-Brewster-approval

A Closet Abba Fan

If you had asked me anytime before this week if I was an Abba fan, I would have said “No, not really, I don’t listen to them.” And that would be an accurate statement. I didn’t own any Abba CDs ever, didn’t really know which songs were Abba songs. My mental connection to Abba would have been: “Dancing Queen?” Or “Yeah, there’s that musical Mama Mia, sounds interesting, but I haven’t seen it.” Or more personally, “Kathyrn, a grad student in linguistics, she’s an Abba fan. Gee, I miss Kathyrn, wonder how she is.” And that’s about it.

So what changed? Watching Passport to Europe with Samantha Brown, the ubiquitous Travel Channel hostess, I witnessed her experience an evening cruise with an Abba tribute band. It sure looked like fun.

So a few weeks later, I saw Abba: The Definitive Collection at our public library and picked it up. It fell into my pile of disks and sat in the car uncertainly, not knowing if it was going to be played. Other more familiar genres of music made their way to CD player first, filling my hour-long 3 times a week commute with comforting sounds. Then, on my way home from one of my last commutes (semester-ending no renewal of contract teaching gig), I thought “what the heck!” and then, I was enchanted. Not so much by the first two songs, but by the ones I recognized.

The teacher in me perked up and thought how great this would be for an ESL class. The music lover in me started to dance. And there you have it--my transformation from an uninformed listener to the beginnings of an appreciative listener. And all I can think is “Wow Kathyrn, you’re so right. I always knew you were wiser than me.”

Royal Flush

Working at a school, I sometimes will wander into the boy's bathroom to pee, rather than use the faculty restroom. I would only do this if the faculy restroom was not near me at the time.

Each time I use the boy;s restroom, I notice none of the urinals are flushed. At first I would assume this was a hygene thing; That they wouldn't flush to avoid getting germs. But then I noticed that if there are any in there at the same time I am in there, that they leave witout washing their hands!!!

Is it really that hard to flush a toilet? Are they conserving water? they must be because they sure dont drink any water, the urnine int he urinal is almost a deep red! These kids must drink nothing but beer, if they drink anything at all!

I've always wanted to put a sign above the urninal that was a step by step instruction on flushing the toilet...

Fret (a 4-letter word)

I learned a lesson today. I was all worked up because I have a "test" at work coming up where I have to restore files and programs from back-up and then mak sure they work. Enter a program known as CENTRAX that our Environment Health folks use for accounting (one of 2 I will have to restore). It's a home grown program that works as a database and reporting program for the work they do. I was planning on having the CENTRAX admin come to the test and fix it for me after the restore was done. I found out late last week that she would be in another state one vacation that day. Literally, this morning I was all worried about my test and this program that I could feel my chest tightening.

Today I managed to catch up with her and talk it over. I decided to do a pretest test. I restored the folder from back-up to an alternate location on a separate server. No problems (I was not expecting any). Then I walk over to see the CENTRAX administrator to see what came next. She tested the data entry part and it worked like a charme. Next she started showing me a few files that needed to point to that folder. That's it?!?!? I was all worked up about that?!?!? It took me all of 15 minutes (if you don't count the 5 minutes I stared at the server while it restored the data)

Just goes to show you how you can easily turn the unknown into dread. Now who's up for "FreeSolo" rock climbing?

Prayers and Blessings

Probably the biggest compliment I’ve every received was a recent one. “I like it when Chuck prays. He’s talks to God like he was a friend.” Though mine is the reverse, it reminds me of Exodus 33:11 when “The LORD would speak to Moses personally, as a man speaks to his friend.” It seems to me that God wants that kind of a relationship. Even though the compliment was a meant to encourage me, it got me to thinking of my depravity. You see, though I may speak to God as a friend it’s because He’s been more of a friend to me than I have ever been to Him. Sometimes I feel like one of those friends that always come to you with his problems, needing to borrow something (and maybe never return it), looking for a favor, or asking for money. God keeps on giving to me, but what have I done to make him want to give to me so freely? Another verse comes to mind: Luke 11:13 “If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him?". (I understand this more now that I have a child of my own.)

We in the U.S.A. are very blessed already. We keep asking God for more, and because of His nature he wants to give (just like I want to give to my child). Yet, when He decides not to answer us for a while or says "no" we get all pouty. Like the Israelites who were blessed beyond measure, more blessings tend to make us “Expect” certain things from God rather than realize what we really have. Again, I am reminded of a verse: Luke 12:48 “For everyone to whom much is given, from him much will be required;” Consider this more of a reflection than a sermon, because it will take a lot of faith to actually take these words to heart…even though that’s where they originated.

Unemployed

I will be out of a job again next week. The guy who I was replacing (and who everbody told me would never come back) is coming back on Monday. I am supposed to train him on the new stuff I've been doing and then hit the road. I'm guessing this will take two days.

The nice thing is that they are going to pay me for two weeks of work, regardless of how long the training takes.

My wife will be out of work in a couple of weeks too. The semester ends, and she cannot renew the contract.

We've gotten no word from the Chinese department.

My father-in-law has not yet found a job. They have to leave their house by the end of the month. Unless something happens fast, they will have to find a storage bin for all of their stuff and move in with some relatives in Nashville, TN.

I think I am cursed. Everyone near me seems to be losing their jobs, and finding no prospect of getting a replacement.

Strangely, I feel pretty good about it all, and my faith is stronger than it has been in a long while.