Friday, March 31, 2006

Fairy Fodder

We will soon be welcoming a fairy to our home. Of course, none of us will get to see her; I understand she is pretty shy. She'll only come while everyone is asleep. You see, Sweet Girl has lost her first tooth! On Sunday at the laundromat she came over and said "Mom, my tooth hurts". I asked her to show me. She pointed to her lower front tooth and I pushed on it. It wiggled... A lot!

I explained to Sweet Girl what was happening and Oh, my, was she ever excited about losing her first tooth! To her, the fact that she is growing up and gets to get a visit from the tooth fairy was almost too much to bear. Right away, though, she started worrying about losing the tooth or not knowing when it came out. I assured her that if she lost the tooth and couldn't find it, we would write a note to the tooth fairy, who would still pay up.

From Sunday night to Tuesday, Sweet Girl would tell every person she could find that she had her first loose tooth. Didn't matter who or where they were; they got the full story and wiggle demonstration. On Tuesday night, Sweet Girl was brushing her teeth and I was in the next room. All of a sudden I heard her call out "Mommy! I lost my tooth! I pulled it out and it didn't even hurt!"

Now here's the funny part that is all Sweet Girl: Champs is out of town, so Sweet Girl decided to put the tooth aside until her Daddy came home, since he needs to see it. On Wednesday morning, she woke up sick (a mono relapse, I'm afraid), so she missed school Wednesday and today. Her Daddy came home today, and the first thing she did when she saw him was to give him a gap-toothed grin and show him her tiny treasure. Now that he's home, you would think that she would be sleeping on a tooth right now, right? Nope. She's holding on to it until she can take it to school and show it to her friends.

In her mind, once she puts it under her pillow, the wonder of her first loose tooth will be gone and she'll have a common quarter in its place. Who knows when she'll actually decide to put it under her pillow and let the fairy have it. For now that tooth is just fairy fodder.


Here's some comments from this post:
princssis said...
I'd be interested to hear what the going rate is around bloggerworld! Here, the first tooth is special and gets $5! Subsequent teeth have received either a $2 bill or 2 gold dollars (special in thier own right.) I've heard of teeth going for over $10!

Geekwif said...
Wow. It sounds like the price of teeth is soaring! I don't think I ever got more than a quarter for mine, but I guess you have to keep up with inflation!

shpprgrl said...
really and truly, the teeth go for whatever i happen to have in my purse. usually 1-5 dollars. except for once, i was the horrid mother that forgot, the next night she got 10 out of guilt. also my daughter leaves a note requesting that TF not take her tooth. she has a cute toothfairy bank that has holes for saving the teeth....and saving the money. kinda strange, but it works for her.

Susan said...
25 cents? Seriously? Wow..I got a dollar for my first tooth.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Insanity is herediitary

Insanity is herediitary.

Yes, it is.

You get it from your parents.

Really.

My mother picks my daughter up from school every Monday afternoon. She takes her to school every morning, but she only has to pick her up on Monday afternoons. I think she may need to have more days per week to pick Sweet Girl up so that the repetition will help cement it in her brain.

Mom is supposed to pick Sweet Girl up at 3:50. She has to be in the building at 3:50. At 4:05 my phone rang and I figured it was Mom calling to tell me that she picked up the girl and was heading to my house (Mom likes to make obvious calls like that. "Hi Honey. It's Mom. I just wanted to let you know it's raining out." "Really Mom? So that's this water on my face! Thanks for clarifying that - I was wondering!").

No, instead, she says to me "Honey, I just got out of the doctor's office." "Did you call the school?!?!?" I asked. No, she hadn't. She started to explain and I cut her off to say that I would call the school and call her back. I called the school and they said that, yes, Sweet Girl was waiting and yes, she was wondering where her ride was. I explained that Mom was about 2 miles away and would be there shortly.

I called Mom back and told her everything was fine - just get to the school right away. She said. "OK, I will. But 100 is a bear." (Now, to truly appreciate this story, you need to understand that my mom was at a the doctor's office on 69th Avenue and Brooklyn Boulevard. The school she was going to is about 3 blocks off of 48th Avenue and Brooklyn Boulevard. To get to the school, she would cross over highway 100. ) "Mom", I asked her, "what does 100 matter?" "well, the traffic is really backed up", she said. "Mom", said I, "You aren't supposed to be on 100."

Well, that really set her off. "This is what happens when I get nervous!" she said. So I gently talked her off the roof and back into the car seat and told her to turn around. Then I bowed out and told her I'd talk to her after she got home with Sweet Girl.

Later I spoke to her and asked her how Sweet Girl was when she got there. She said that she was pretty upset, but not because she was late. It was because another kid socked her in the eye. Then she said, "even if I had hadn't had to turn around twice, I still wouldn't have been there in time to stop him". "Um, Mom, twice? Waddya mean?" She explained that she missed the Brooklyn Boulevard exit and had to turn around on 36th avenue (3 exits away from the school) and turn around and go back again.

So she got there about 4:20. Just 30 minutes after school gets out. Sigh. I'm glad the school staff is patient.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Sweet Girl Testimony

First, I want to thank everyone for your prayers and happy thoughts on Sweet Girl's behalf. She's feeling a lot better and I can tell you why. OK, this story is overdue. Consider me cautious, or just new at this, but here goes.

I have been a Christian since I was 14 years old. I can give you a wonderful testimony of God's grace, forgiveness and mercy in my life. The things He saved me from; the gifts He's given me; the love I have found to replace years of hurt are enough to convince anyone of the reality of Salvation. I have no questions - no qualms.

Physical healing, however, has always been a different matter for me. I know that God heals. I know that miracles occur. I've always had a hard time, however, believing that they can and would occur for me or my family. I'm not sure why. I have diabetes and I know the origins of it are both genetic (both my parents and 3 of my parent's 4 children are diabetics) and the result of my overeating. I've had a hard time asking God to heal me of the diabetes. Don't get me wrong; I would love to be healed. I just have a hard time having the faith to see it happen.

So, back to Sweet Girl. As you know, in the space of three weeks she had Strep Throat, Flu and Mono. Last Saturday (March 18), was the worst day of all. She had a fever around 102 and slept for two or three hours straight on the couch while I was cleaning. We had a dinner party that night with Geekwif, The Geek and two other couples. One couple is an associate pastor and his wife and the other couple are the visitation pastors at our church. We had invited them two weeks earlier for the dinner party, and on Friday I called them all to let them know that Sweet Girl was sick and to give them the chance to back out. Since Mono is actually pretty difficult to pass on, they all decided to come over. I told Sweet Girl that, if she wanted, our guests would be happy to pray for her and ask God to make her well.

After a nice dinner, Sweet Girl (who hardly touched her plate) asked to be put to bed, but said she wanted to be prayed for first. We all gathered around her and prayed. Margaret (the Associate Pastor's wife) brought out some anointing oil and anointed her. We all asked God to heal our girl. I asked Sweet Girl if she believed that God would heal her and she said yes. After a round of hugs, we put her to bed.

Now, I have asked Him repeatedly to heal her throughout this streak of sickness. Each night before she went to bed and over and over again through the day, I asked Him to heal her. And for three weeks she was sick. The next day, however, she woke up and the fever was gone. We didn't go to church; she was still coughing and tired, but the fever broke - and never came back. She took only a short 30 minute nap.

On Monday I kept her home from school. The coughing stopped and she was bright, alert, and ready to go. Her school said she could return 24 hours after the fever was gone. I had to send her to school on Tuesday; she was bouncing off the walls on Monday. I tried to get her to take a nap on Monday; but no go. I expected her to come home from school on Tuesday just beat. She was a little tired, but not unusually so.

On Wednesday, it was complete; I got my Sweet Girl back. I took her to Chipotle's for dinner. She ate a cheese and bean quesadilla, a half a cheese quesadilla, half a side order of grilled chicken and a ton of chips and guacamole! And then asked me to take her home and give her ice cream. She ate more in one meal than she had eaten in the last three days combined, and it wasn't mac and cheese or a chicken mcnugget!

It took three days for her healing to be complete. But she was healed. Mono is supposed to run for 4 to 6 weeks, yet she has been in school and running full strength since last Tuesday. I have an appointment to have her checked on March 31; that's how long the pediatrician expected it to be around. And yet, I am 100% certain that when they test her, she won't have Mono any longer.

I am thrilled that Sweet Girl was healed. I want to shout it from the rooftops. I do wonder, though, what the key was. Why was it that 8 adults were able to successfully pray for healing when I couldn't do it alone? Going to my bible, I find that it says to call the elders together to anoint the sick and pray and they'll be healed. That's what we did, so perhaps that was the key. I asked her if she believed she could be healed and she said yes; maybe her faith that evening was the key.

I may never know what the key was but I do know that Sweet Girl was healed by a loving God, just as surly as I was saved 26 years ago. Thank you, Lord.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Sweet Girl's Pierced Ears, the visual

I've been blogging since June and if you've been reading for any amount of time, you know that I rarely ever post photos of the family and never yet of Sweet Girl's face. However, since the photo in question was taken when she was one and now she's going on six, I think it is safe.

Remembering the day of her ear piercing in anticipation of her first birthday photos made me want to go see the photos. I would have posted one with the original post, but we didn't have the photos on our new computer. I had to do a bit of searching to find them, but find them I did. Viewing them today reminded me of what a little beauty she was (and still is, if I do say so myself).

So without further ado, I give you my Sweet Girl in 2001, with freshly pierced ears:










Here are some comments from this post:
Geekwif said...
Ohhhh. I'd almost forgotten just how dang cute that little girl was. Not that she's not still adorable, but you know.... Glad you got the photos working on Blogger. It was worth the wait.

Star said...
Absolutely beautiful.

Susan said...
How pretty is she! Wow! :)

princssis said...
I don't think I ever saw the one with her on the chair - how cute! The other one is awesome, too!

owlhaven said...
how cute!
Mary, mom to many

kenju said...
What a precious child! I love these photos, BG.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Getting Sweet Girl's ears pierced

As you've read, Sweet Girl has mono. This, after also having had Strep Throat and Influenza B all in about 3 weeks. Through all of this, I've been struggling to get her to eat. I have gotten to the point where I will feed her whatever she will eat. You want a chicken nugget happy meal? Sold to the woman with the sick girl. You want mac and cheese for the 8th time? No problem. You'll eat three bites if I give you cookie? You got it.

I know that some moms will think that I've sunk to the lowest point in motherhood. Call Nanny 911! Oh well. I know I feed her well the rest of the time and I know she has better eating habits than most children. After losing almost two pounds though, I'll feed her whatever gets some calories into her - especially since I know she'll only eat three or four bites and then nothing will get her to eat more. I can get back to the "regimen" when she's back to having an appetite.

I don't normally worry too much what other parents think about what Champs and I do as parents. We've discussed so much of our parenting approach, discussed what works and what doesn't, discussed consistency, discussed prayer and reading with her and all the other things that are important. So, I just deal with what we need to do and don't worry about it. Much, that is.

When I was in the store the other night buying a Madagascar TV meal, mac and cheese, popsicles and cookies (truth, I swear), I saw another mother eyeing my basket disapprovingly. I sooooo wanted to explain and set her straight, but I kept my peace. It took me back though... It made me remember when we got Sweet Girl's ears pierced. It went something like this...

Champs wanted her ears pierced when she was a baby and I agreed, figuring that if they were done early, she wouldn't play with them as she aged (I was right). So we discussed it with the pediatrician who recommended having it done between 9 and 12 months. This way, she would be young enough to not remember it, but old enough to have had a few rounds of vaccines and to determine if she had any allergies. We thought that made sense and waited until she was 11 months old. We planned a big photo shoot for her first birthday and wanted her ears pierced in time.

On the big day, we gave her a dose of tylonol and went to the mall. We stopped at Claire's and asked the girl who was working if we could see the earrings. Sweet Girl was dressed in a white shirt and denim overalls with a cow embroidered on the front. The girl directed us to the case and helped us pick out a pair of pink studs. Then she called out to her manager that "these people want to pierce this boy's ears. Can you help?" I figured that if she couldn't figure out that Sweet Girl was a girl, I didn't want her trying to pierce her ears. We graciously said we wanted to look around and might be back.

We then went to the Piercing Pagoda. They were wonderful. They explained that they had special earrings for babies that had a rounded back so they wouldn't get poked by the sharp earring. Then they explained that they would do the ears one at a time instead of both at once. It is safer for babies in case they jerk away. We picked out another set of pink earrings and listened as the gal commented on how cute our girl was (yes, that really helped to give her more credibility than the girl at Claire's). She had me hold her and made the marks on her ears. When the first earring went in, Sweet Girl let out a yelp. I cuddled her and give her a bottle to suck on... No more tears after that.

About that time, I noticed a woman in her fifties looking at me with the most disapproving look possible. She was positively glaring at me! I turned my back on her and sat down for the next earring to be put in. This time, Sweet Girl let out another yelp. I popped her bottle in her mouth, rocked her and sang "Winnie the Pooh" (the song I've sung to her every time she's cried since she was born, I think). Her tears stopped almost immediately. I looked over at the woman. She had been joined by her daughter. She had her hand in front of her mouth and was glaring at me, whispering to her daughter and gesturing at us with her pinkie. She had disapproval written on her forehead. I nearly lost it with her. I wanted to walk over and tell her it was none of her business and review the precautions I had taken. In the end, though, I paid the girl, gathered my husband and my daughter and walked away.

Like I said, I don't normally get bugged by people's opinion of my parenting. But once in awhile....

I wonder if the woman at Cub the other day went home and told her family about that awful women who bought junk food for her kid? Oh well, it doesn't matter. Sweet Girl actually ate 5 bites of her dinner tonight!



Here's some comments from this post:
Star said...
I don't think I ever had to coax any of my kids to eat. But if I were in your position right now I would do whatever it took.Tell all those nosy people to pay some attention to their own kids!

shpprgrl said...
i totally agree, when they are sick anything vaguely nutritional is fair game! ice cream for supper...sure!

Susan said...
Whenever I had strep throat as a child, I always turned to apple juice and popsicles. Does she like either of those? How about Jello?
I recently had my tonsils out. I lived on jello, apple sauce, popsicles, and sherbet. Maybe those things will help?
I hope she feels better soon! Poor thing!

Thumper said...
Hey, when a kid is sick, ANY food in them is a victory. Sometimes, even when they're well... I'm pretty sure that between 3 and 5, the only thing my kid ate was pizza, garlic bread, and frozen yogurt...

princssis said...
I had the same thing happen when Belle had her ears pierced at 12 months old. I just acted to proud and happy. Tank's fiancee (oh, I need a name for her!) was with us and snapped lots of pictures!
Hope Sweet Girl eats a little more and gets to feeling better soon!
^prayers^

Saturday, March 18, 2006

When Irish Eyes are Smilin'...

There is probably good food around! 2 Cases in point:

1. Irish fast food. In spite of being half Irish, Champs is not a fan of the traditional boiled corned beef and cabbage dinner. He is fond of corned beef, however. So, I did what any American Irish wife would do: I made him an Irish fast food dinner of roasted potato and onion wedges (roast with a little olive oil, kosher salt, sliced garlic and thyme and you got the best potatoes), grilled Reuben sandwiches and Harp beer. Yeup, that was our St. Patrick's Day feast and everyone seemed to think it was appropriate.

2. The promise of yummy slow food. For Christmas this year, I gave Champs a small smoker. He was thrilled at the idea, but the actual unit didn't work that well and wasn't up to his standards. He returned the smoker and added to that money the gift cards he received as another Christmas presents, giving him $100.00 to choose a new smoker.

Problem: the model he wanted was $100.00 - and $55.00 S/H. The wonderful folk at Home Depot, however, pointed out that they could order in a larger smoker from a neighboring store. They described the next model up: 738 square inches (not feet, as Geekwif so accuratly pointed out) of cooking surface for $159.00 - with no S/H. Now, we've been working hard on debt reduction, etc and money is tight. However, I crunched the numbers and we figured that we would rather add $59.00 to the total and have it pay for smoker instead of shipping. We ordered it in and Champs got it on Thursday - a brand new Charbroil Silver Smoker with offset firebox. I told him "Merry Christmas and Happy Father's Day, Honey. This is it for awhile." He doesn't mind. He got it put together right away and let me tell you, this baby is HUGE! It's 4 feet, 4 inches long and can smoke something like 3 or 4 turkeys at once.

Champs' Irish eyes haven't stopped smiling - and we're having smoked pork loin for dinner tomorrow!

Here's a picture of his new baby... I know all you grill aficionados are drooling now, aren't you?





Here's some comments from this post:
Karen said...
Your Irish fast food sounds yummy.

Michael said...
Yea, we're drooling all right. Three or four turkeys! That would last a while. Should I be booking my flight for Thanksgiving??

OldOldLady Of The Hills said...
WOW! That's quite a piece of equipment! I bet your husband is a happy camper, yes? I am not a big fan of "smoker' cooked food, but this looks incredible!

Geekwif said...
Um, yeah, so when are the Geek and I coming over for dinner?
BTW, 738 sq ft is bigger than my first apartment. I'm thinking you meant sq in? My apartment was pretty small, but seriously, you could grill a lot more than 3 turkeys in that amount of space! ;)
Enjoy that new grill. With Champs having a new toy, you might not have to cook all summer! Of course, knowing you, you wouldn't be happy if you couldn't work in the kitchen sometimes.

Shannin said...
That looks awesome! I like to smoke, but haven't since we got the gas grill here to replace the Weber charcoal grill we had in LA. I think about investing in a stove-top one since it's just the two of us...
I like your Irish fast food. I ended up doing ribeye steaks, coleslaw (I hate cooked cabbage) and roasted red potatoes. Close enough...

Suzy said...
I'm droolin' over here!
Hey, how's it goin' down there in southern Illinois? I need to read up on your blog to catch up on things with you and the family. I haven't felt the best, so I haven't been reading blogs lately. I'm sorry!
Make sure you tell your family member about that CellCept that I've been prescribed! It's really starting to help!

Paul said...
We're far from Irish, but I always like this time of year cuz corned beef brisket are always on sale. I got the two best one in the store this year. Already ate one. It was pretty good.
That smoker looks like a side of beef will fit into it. And a side of venison. A large shank of pork. Lots of lamb...
Have fun.

David said...
your story is what is beautiful, your working together and planning, reasoning. waiting.
the smoker is a thing, a fabulous thing. the relationship you are building is a treasure
what a great post.
i have the cheapo smoker

Friday, March 17, 2006

The Luck of the Irish?

Our daughter, Sweet Girl, is half Irish. After as many generations in America as all branches on our family trees have, that's pretty much purebred, wouldn't you agree? We gave her an Irish name because of it.

Since she is half Irish, one would think that she would get a corner on the whole "Luck of the Irish" thing, right? Yah, not so much.

The poor child has been sick since mid-February. Off and on, I would get calls from the school nurse that she was in the office with a mild fever. It was never high enough for her to go home and they were intermittent. Until February 28. I got a call that she had a fever of a 100.5 and a red throat. The nurse said she had to go home and suggested that I take her to the pediatrician for a strep test, since it was going around. So I did. And yes, she had strep.

Once we got her on the medicine, she began to rally - for a few days. By the weekend, she was running a high fever and felt rotten. Since one would generally expect to feel better, not worse, after getting medicine, I took her back to the doctor. They did a nose swab test and it turned out she had Influenza B. Strep and flu! Go figure. We took her home, tried to get as much liquid down her as possible and waited for her to go back to school.

The week of the 6-10 I think she went to school two or three times. By Monday the 13, when we had our one-hell-of-a-dump snowstorm, she was back down again. Her fever raged all day. I called the doctor again and they said that the flu would probably go on for at least another 4 days and to bring her in on Friday if she wasn't better.

I think you know where this is heading. Yeup, back to the doctor's office today. She's missed the entire week of school. She will barely eat and thus has lost 1.5 pounds (she's tiny as it is - just 36 pounds) so that's not a good thing. I told them that I really felt they needed to test her blood to see what was going on, since the flu should have been gone by now.

Well, the doctor agreed. They did a finger-stick blood test (and man, did she hate that!) to check her hemoglobin and other stuff. The diagnosis? Her iron is low, so she is mildly anemic. Moreover, the child has Mono! The "kissing disease"! I called the school nurse to tell her and she was surprised, to put it mildly. I asked her if she had seen any other children with it and she said no, she hadn't, but there are a number of kids who keep getting sick over and over like our girl. She will put out a memo to tell these parents to have their kids checked for Mono, too.

Sheesh. At least now we know what we're dealing with. The poor kid. I want her better soon. If you want, please pray for her. Don't worry; if you ask God to heal "Sweet Girl", I know He'll know exactly who you mean.

Thanks!

And in the spirit of the day, here is an Irish Blessing for you:

May you always have work for your hands to do.
May your pockets hold always a coin or two.
May the sun shine bright on your windowpane.
May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain.
May the hand of a friend always be near you.


Here are some comments from this post:
Geekwif said...
Poor Sweet Girl. I hope she feels better very very soon. I can't wait to see her sweet sick little face tonight.

princssis said...
OH, so sorry to hear of Sweet Girl's illness. I didn't realize she had been sick. I do pray she is healed quickly.
So, who has she been kissing? JK

Blond Girl said...
Princess, the identity of the kisser is the subject of Champs' latest investigation... tee hee

Shannin said...
Poor SG! I hope she's feelin' top o' the mornin' soon.
And may God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

On a Wendy's Napkin...

Perhaps of all the people who live near me, Geekwif can attest to the authenticity of this poem, for I am sure she has heard me quote it through the years.

In 1985 I was 20 years old and we had a reasonably snowy March. My roommate Ruth and I were at Wendy's eating dinner one night after a good hour of snow shoveling and digging out her 1964 Chevy Impala, Betty. After we were done eating, we got inspired by the book of Isaiah and Shakespeare. A scary combination, I know. Taking turns in verse, we wrote the following:

An Ode to March

Be not downtrodden, Oh my soul -
That ye must tread through yet... More Snow.
For such a snow it ever shall be
More abundant than the last months three!

What with freezing, falling and blowing about,
Ye shall never, with a shovel, dig thyself out.
But, with Toro key in hand
The trusty icepick and some sand,
I, like a soldier, march about
to rid myself of the snowy route!

Though my fight with winter is strong
still in my flesh I often long
and in my heart I wail and rent
for funnertime, yummertime, summertime spent!

Yes, I still know it by heart twenty one years later; I recite it to myself, complete with rolled rrr's and English accent, each March - and I still entertain myself each time. I hope you enjoyed it.



Here are a few comments from this post:
Geekwif said...
You are correct. I can attest to it. I've heard the poem many times. Pretty much every March, I think. It's still fun to hear though!
Yup, definitely looking forward to "yummertime".

HolyMama! said...
were the wendy's napkins yellow then, too? and do you still have it?

Lightning Bug's Butt said...
charming poem, Blond Girl. I can picture that miserable March day, now.

Monday, March 6, 2006

The "M" was for Magic

Ask almost any Minnesotan - or any baseball fan - the significance of number 34 and they will immediately say, "Kirby Puckett, of course".

I just finished getting Sweet Girl ready for bed a few minutes ago and brought her out to the living room for Daddy to tuck her in and say her prayers with her. When we walked into the living room, he pointed to the T.V. "Look" was all he said. And there was a picture who was arguably one of the greatest outfielders to crawl the wall. "Kirby Puckett, 1961-2006" was the caption. He was only 4 years older than me.

I heard this morning that Kirby had a stroke, but like all public figures, you think "oh, he'll pull through". Only he didn't - and it is a sad day for Minnesota. I am sure Naked Girl will have a great awareness of this, seeing as her hubby is a sports writer for the local newspaper here. If you haven't lived in Minnesota for your life, though, you may not understand why this is so sad.

The Twins made it to the World Series the year I was born; 1965. Though they tried, they didn't make it again until 1987. I can still remember the frenzy our city was in and how much we loved our players. The season went from lackluster to everyone wearing pins, carrying key chains and waving their required game element, The Homer Hanky (we even waved them at our T.V.s).

Puckett, Herbeck, Viola... They were our boys of summer and we loved them. Then in 1991 when they won the series again, the Twins became written forever in the hearts of Minnesotans - even those of us who are fair weather sports fans. But of all of those winning players, it was mostly Puckett and Herbeck who made it into our hearts. They played their entire careers with the Twins, making them our guys. Hey, Herbeck has an outdoor show now that I watch every now and again - and I don't fish or hunt! But of the two, I really enjoyed Kirby Puckett. Yes, Kirby did have problems after he retired, but that isn't what I will remember. I will remember the player.

Who can forget watching that short little guy run to the back of the field and make the most amazing catches, bent backward over the top of the fence? I swear that man had springs in his shoes! I think he was better than Michael Jordan. I mean, think about it - he jumped twice as high to catch a 5 inch ball moving at better than 60 mph! Every time he came out to bat, the announcer would draw his name out for 10-15 seconds... "Kirrrrbbbbyyyy Puuuuuuuuuuuuuckett!"

When the Twins won in 87, I was working as a temporary receptionist downtown. The day after they won, the city threw a ticker tape parade. I went out over my lunch hour and stood in the middle of the street. When the cars bearing the players came through, the police split the crowd down the middle; so I got to be right in front of every convertible as it passed by with the players and their wives sitting on the back ledges. If I had been any closer, my toes would have been run over. I shook hands with most of the players. My one hour lunch turned into a two hour lunch, but no one at work even cared. They were just jealous they weren't where I was! What a memory!

We're moving to Illinois next summer where the family roots for the Cubs, Sox and, even more so, the St. Louis Cardinals. Cubs and Sox I can handle, but the Cards are the fallen, as far as I am concerned, for Ozzie Smith could not outmaneuver Kirby and they could not win the trophy. I have already told Champs that when we move, I will gladly root for the Fighting Illini, since the Golden Gophers haven't meant a lot to me. I will watch the Bears or whatever team they want to win because, well, let's face it: The Vikings are a bit of an embarrassment. But I will never, EVER root for any other team than the Minnesota Twins. You can take the girl out of Minnesota, but you can't take the memory of the magic out of the girl.

Rest in peace, Kirby. You made baseball matter to me. Thank you.



Here's come comments from this post:
Sandy said...
I've not lived in Minnesota but as a baseball fan I get it. I had heard Kirby was in critical condition earlier in the day, but gosh was I shocked to see that same caption. I can't believe he died. It seems rather surreal - such a young guy, an athlete at that - gone.

flipflop said...
Very sad.

Shannin said...
Although Don doesn't cover baseball, he's very aware of the icon status Kirby has here. I'm an Indians fan, but I loved Kirby's smile and obvious love for the game.

HolyMama! said...
i did not understand. not a baseball fan, not a Minnesotan, not anything. But the way you wrote this made me sad, just because of your experiences.

Lightning Bug's Butt said...
A fine rememberance.

Saturday, March 4, 2006

In Search of the Perfect....

I am in search of the perfect...

Jacket:
If you read my blog, you know that I have lost 120 pounds. And you know that I am cold. Always unbelievably, inexplicably cold. Last year, when my jacket became laughable (anyone wearing a green plaid tent in the middle of winter deserves to be laughed at), my hubby made me get rid of it. I didn't have a back up. He, however, has two green LL Bean jackets, so I started wearing the warmer of the two, expecting to buy a new jacket over the summer. Problem: I forgot to buy one! Well, when this winter came, I started wearing the hubby's jacket again and searching for one for me. The problem is, I have so many requirements for the perfect jacket. It must: have an attached hood with a tie, wrists that won't let in air or snow, be long enough to cover my butt, have a tie waist to keep it snugged up to me, have a high collar that covers my chin, be soft and snuggly inside, be extremely warm... Oh yes, and be cute. Guess what? I'm still wearing the hubby's jacket. Not cute, but it does keep me warm while I continue my search.

The other day I was walking to my cubicle when I saw the cutest jacket at my co-worker's desk. I had to ask her where she got it. She said it was from Land's End. I was on the phone in about 5 seconds flat! I bought a berry colored sherpa fleece jacket with toggle buttons. Best of all, it was originally $89.00 but is on clearance for $19.99! The woman on the phone said I got the last medium in that color. While this will not work if the temperature is below 35, I can at least look cute half the time. I am thinking the LL Bean Baxter State Parka or Penobscot Parka would be the perfect all winter jacket for me, but at $199.00, I haven't had the guts to commit to one yet.

Purse: I don't think there isn't one woman out there who wouldn't flip for the perfect purse. The only problem is, that definition changes for each woman. I have to admit that I am picky. I used to carry a huge purse that fit everything for work and "life", but it ended up being huge and I looked like some over-prepared grandma everywhere I went. Therefore, "cute" became a huge factor in my search for the perfect purse. I want a small enough purse to not look like I'm toting half of Target, but it also has to be big enough to carry everything I need. Being diabetic, that means (unfortunately) a glucometer case. I've got it pared down as much as possible, but it is still the size of my wallet. Imagine carrying two wallets all the time and you'll see my dilemma. I used to try to have a purse big enough to also carry my Classic-sized Franklin Covey planner, but I have come to the conclusion that, while I want to carry it back and forth to work, it would be better to just get a tote that it fits it (and my lunch, a magazine, an umbrella...) and then carry the tote and purse to work.

Well, I thought I had solved my dilemma the other day. I found a cute pink purse at Walmart (of all places) the other night. It is absolutely perfect except... it's about 3 or 4 inches too small. If I didn't need to carry my glucometer, it would hold everything I need. Even so, I am pretty sure I am going to have to return it. The glucometer is pretty important. Yeah, I want to look stylish, but I'm not willing to kill myself in the quest, you know? I wish I could sew leather; I would just design and make my own perfect purse. It would probably look a lot like the little pink number I'm going to have to return.

Dress: When I was a little girl, I always got a new dress for Easter. It was like clockwork. Well, now that I've lost the weight and had the tummy tuck, I want a new dress for Easter like I got when I was kid. I think I found it, too. The other day when I was doing laundry at the laundromat (don't get me started - that's a whole OTHER post...) I ran next door to the ARC thrift store while my clothes were doing the maytag twist. And there I found it; a pink linen and rayon princess-seamed tank sheath, lined and with hot pink and green roses embriordered all over it. How Blond Girl could one dress get? It was only 8.99 and obviously high-quality. I bought it on the spot. Unless something even better shows up, I have found my Easter dress and I am beyond excited. Woo hoo!

Night's Sleep: Not sure what to say about this one except I wish I could go away for a week and do nothing but sleep. On a wonderful foam mattress with flannel sheets... And a down feather bed and down comforter and heated mattress pad. I'm not sure I would ever leave. Sounds heavenly, doesn't it? Well, one that note, I am off to my bed, which is pretty close to heaven. I mean, I have the firm foam mattress, the down comforter, flannel sheets and heated blanket (not mattress pad) and best of all, Champs to snuggle up to. Let's see how long it takes Sweet Girl to get me out of bed tomorrow morning!

Wednesday, March 1, 2006

Ahhh... March!

It is March 1 and I could not be happier! This means that soon the sun will come out, the snow will melt, the tulips will bloom and I will finally feel my fingers begin to thaw. I tell you, I've been cold for so long now that I actually forget what it feels like to not have my inner core constantly vibrating in a low shiver!

Just think; in a few short months I'll be able to open all the windows in this house - throw them wide and embrace the fresh air moving through our home. I can't wait! This rental house we have is so weird! First, there is the fact that it is C-O-L-D! And it's not just me who says that. Even Champs thinks it's cold. We keep the thermostat at 70 or 72 in self-defense. The back of the house by our bedrooms gets amazingly cold. Thank goodness for the electric blanket that Champs bought me for Christmas. Every night around 7:00 or so, I go back and "preheat" the bed. I throw that blanket up on high and then turn it down when we go to bed. It's lovely. It really is awful when I forget to preheat the bed. Poor Champs suffers because I glom on to him as the only heat source available. He just shrinks when I get too close. I think it must be like having a big ice cube dropped down your shirt... Except he's not wearing one and I, unfortunately, don't melt.

So... Has strep throat been making the rounds in your neck of the woods? Sweet Girl has it. Yesterday I got a call from the school nurse; SG had a 100 degree temp and a sore throat. I took her to the doctor. As the nurse was doing the culture, she looked in SG's throat and said "Oh yeah, if that's not strep, I don't want to know what it is!" So, she spent the day at Grandma's. Antibiotics for all, doc!

Gus is such a weird animal! Which is to say, of course, that he is a perfectly normal cat. Every night he comes into the room to sleep with us. He prefers my side of the bed - because of the electric blanket, I am sure. The only problem is that each night, he curls up at my feet. About 4 minutes after the light is turned off, he creeps up to my pillow. So I put him back down at the foot of the bed. He waits 4 minutes... then creeps back up to my pillow. I put him back down at the foot of the bed... he creeps back up.

Back down to the foot of the bed. Creep up to the head of the bed. Back down... creep up.... foot of the bed... head of the bed. Each time I move him, I say "no!" Finally, when the 5th or 6th cycle comes and I say "NO!" as I pick him up and then hold him down for a minute, he listens and sleeps at the foot of the bed.

Gus isn't the first kitten I've had who did this. I've broken four cats of the need to sleep on my pillow and by gum, Gus will sleep at my feet just like all the others. But man, is he a one track mind cat or what?!?!

Well I'm gonna run along. Work has been crazy lately but I think it is calming down. I need to get back into a routine that will allow me to get my work done and my blogging, too. Thanks for hanging tight with me. I'll write more soon, I promise. In the meantime, think of tulips for me, OK?


Here are some comments from this post:
Geekwif said...
Tulips tulips tulips...I'm thinking tulips! I can't wait for them to start peeking their little green heads out of the ground.
It's funny. I used to spend every night freezing too, until we got our comforter. That apparently did the trick for me. I haven't been shivery cold in bed once since we got that thing. I love it.
Thanks for blogging again. I know you're busy, but I miss your posts when you are away.
BTW, if you get a chance, go visit the two girls who commented to you yesterday. They did so as a favor to me and I think you'll enjoy their blogs.

Oreo said...
Am here from the geekwif's to tell you to post more!!! J/K. Actually I read you anyway, just don't have time to comment many places anymore as I read TOO many blogs...mainly cat blogs...ps Gus needs his own too! :)

kenju said...
Come and see my spring post - no tulips - but forsythia and daffodils.

HolyMama! said...
ok, the idea of gus regularly trying to sneak onto your pillow every four minutes is just funny. What a great internal clock he must have!
Daffodils are in bloom here (west texas), and that means tulips are next! Yea!

Faith said...
I jsut found your site through geekwif. I love it. My son-in-law was in Minn. for five weeks, training for his work. He almost froze. We live in Georgia,so it was a bit different. And Strep is making it's rounds here,as well as a terribe virus. YUK!

flipflop said...
Tulips for you!! Hope the strep goes away soon.