Back to the Past

I wanted to make this a weekly topic with a different photo each time, but “life” has gotten in the way lately. Let’s get a fresh start, shall we? :o)

This is perhaps one of my most favorite Adams’ cousins photo ever. I do realize it’s only a portion of the final cousin-count, but I love the colors and the faces and and the old wallpaper and Grandma and Grandpa looking tired. Who knew they still had 15 or so more babies to come into this big, loud, raucous family?

So we’ll start with Grandpa holding Jody and go clockwise. Grandma is holding Tonita and in front of them is me. Then Bart is to my left and Jesse is next to him, grinning. Jeff is in red, Bobby in turquoise (some of you got cowboy clothes for something…). Paula seems to be staring down the camera, and  Barbie closed her eyes. Teresa in red, Debbie in turquoise, and Mike in front of Grandpa. Weren’t we all just the cutest bunch of kids ever?

I have no idea what the occasion was, but since Jesse and Paula, and Bobby and Bart are there, I’m going to guess it’s Thanksgiving and pheasant season?  It looks like we’re having, maybe, potato soup and there’s a plate of leftover turkey in the middle of the table?

I wonder when Grandma got that bright yellow table? She gave it to my mom years later, and Dad still had it when he died. Randy had it in storage at a rental house and unfortunately the tenant ruined it. I regret that I didn’t bring it home and wedge it in here, somewhere.

It was a good, solid table and there were hundreds and hundreds of family meals eaten while sitting at it. Goulash, meatloaf, pot roast, and fried chicken with mashed potatoes. Thousands of bowls of cereal, pancakes, scrambled eggs. Lunch meat sandwiches and potato chips, bowls of soup, bread and butter.  Our entire family sat together every evening at 6 p.m. for supper. No TV, no radio. One of the best rules my parents had, I think.

Our birthdays were celebrated around that table with cake, candles, and ice cream. Usually we had a white or yellow cake baked in a 9x13 pan with chocolate frosting.

Eventually I not only sat there with my family for meals, but also served them  meals I’d prepared. Never a tablecloth or centerpiece or candles. Food was served in the pans they were cooked in, condiment bottles set in the middle. Casual and informal. Pretty much just as you see in the photo.

There are more than food memories associated with the yellow table. We did our  homework there, and played games and paper dolls. I literally covered it with piles of cut-out Christmas cookies one year, polished my fingernails, and folded hundreds of loads of laundry on it. Mom and her friends and sisters gathered ‘round with their babies and “community” glasses of iced tea.

Yes, there are tons of warm, wonderful memories for me associated with that table, but there are also some sad and painful memories. Fights and tears and sorrow. Sitting with family after our brother died. Getting in trouble for various childhood bad decisions. One of the last times I sat at that table was with my brothers to plan our father’s funeral.

I was 16 months-old in that photo, and the last time I sat at that table I was 43.  To me, that table was a symbol of how our family was the most important thing, no matter what else was going on.

Okay, so you see how this post ended up in a totally different direction than it started?  That’s kind of how it works sometimes…

The H1N1

We’ve had an uninvited and unwelcomed guest in our home for the past several days. Jessica was the first to succumb to it’s charms, just a tickle in the back of her throat that turned into an annoying cough, then it went downhill from there. On Friday morning I piddled around in town after work and didn’t get home until almost 11. I found Jess and Bradley in bed – Jess had a temp of 102.2  and a terrific headache.

Immediately I called the clinic and the appointment desk clerk balked a bit, telling me they were only taking emergencies. When I (politely) explained that Jess was a mere 11 days postpartum and running such a high temp, an appointment time miraculously opened up.

The flu test was positive and the doctor prescribed several medications, Tamiflu being the first. I asked for a prescription for both Greg and I as a preventative, and was denied.

So guess who else got sick?

I called the clinic yesterday afternoon when my own temperature reached 102. They didn’t even make me come in, they just went ahead and called in a prescription for me. (That is a MIRACLE for this clinic!)

I called Greg and asked him to pick it up on his way home. He asked me to call the clinic and get him a script, too, since he had started the irritating little cough that was the first symptom. I made him do it himself (hello! I was sick and he just didn’t want to talk on the phone to a stranger…) and they agreed (TWO miracles in one day!), so as soon as he got home we loaded up on the drugs.

He just now called me from work, sounding so perky I wanted to shoot him. I feel better, but still tired and achy and coughing.  Thankfully I haven’t had a fever today.

So far the baby is fine. There was nothing they could do for him that was preventative – we just take precautions to not breathe or cough around him. Those little masks from the pharmacy work great. No, you won’t see a photo of any of us in those. :o)

So while I am pissed off (pardon my French) that the doctor Jess saw on Friday wouldn’t give us the Tamiflu and save us from becoming ill,  at least we’ll be immune to H1N1 the rest of the winter. I guess if we have to find a good thing to come of this, that would be it.

To end this pathetic and whiney post on a high note, I’ll include a gratuitous photo of the little man,  or Tiberius as some call him (I’ll have to explain that one later…):

The Pumpkin Patch

A week ago Saturday we took a little field trip to Helgoth’s Pumpkin Patch near Grand Island. This is the same place Nick and I took the kids last year. This time it was Leslie and Jessi and I who accompanied them and we had a wonderful time.

Here are a few highlights:

The inflatable pumpkin:

Grace on the tire swing:

Garett in the big tube slide:

Garett looking at the sky through the telescope:

The tricycle track:

Wyatt made a length of rope:

And, of course, everyone took home a pumpkin:

We had a little picnic afterward at a very nice Boy Scout park/lake just down the road. Jess was terrorized by a tiny little spider while we ate, but other than that, a good time was had by all! :o)

Are We Telepathetic?*

As I arrived home from work this morning, the song on the CD player was “Sylvia’s Mother” by Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show (1971).  I hate to turn off the car in the middle of a song (OCD much?), so I usually just turn off the engine and listen to the remainder of the song before exiting the vehicle. (I love Dr. Hook’s music and was able to see them live at the State fair when I was in High School.)

Jess and Bradley were (and still are) snuggled in the recliner, and J and I chatted a minute. I’d taken some migraine meds when I got home, so I sat in my chair with my eyes closed, waiting for the meds to take effect. While sitting in the quiet, that song, “Sylvia’s Mother” was going through my mind - “Please Mrs. Avery I just got to talk to her, I’ll only keep her awhile…” 

Out of the blue, Jess says, “Sylvia’s Mother keeps going through my head this morning.”  I started laughing and told her it was the song I was listening to on the way home, and it was going through my head too!

We do this once in awhile – one of us will start singing a song or quoting a movie that the other was thinking of. Either we’re telepathetic* or we just spend way too much time together! :o)

 

*I know the word is “telepathic” – see this movie quote from Stepmom (1998):

Ben Harrison: See Mom? I told you! I'm telepathetic.
Jackie Harrison: Telepathic.
Ben Harrison: That's what I said.

Hey Baby!

This past week has gone by in a blur, and here’s the reason why:

Bradley Nicholas Lott was born on Monday, September 28, 2009 at 7:30 p.m. He weight 7 lb. 4 oz. and was 21” long.

Jessica began having contractions on Sunday afternoon, but we didn’t head for the hospital until 1:30 Monday morning. It was a very long day waiting for the little guy, but all went well with labor and delivery.

I was Jessi’s coach, so it was my privilege to watch Bradley be born. Jess says I deserted her to watch at the end of the bed, and I did, but what an awesome blessing to be witness to that miracle.

They let me cut the cord, and my hand was shaking so much I was afraid I would poke the baby with the scissors.

He had such a sweet little cry, not frantic or scared, just curious. Does that make sense? Quiet and like he was saying, “Hi, I’m here. Now what?”.  They needed him to really cry, so they took him to the warmer and rubbed him all over with a blanket – he gave some good wails then, but when I touched his cheek and started talking to him, he immediately stopped crying and looked around in wonder. I could tell he was listening to me, so I just blathered on like a person does when talking to an infant. Everyone does that, right? :o)

 

After they weighed him, I went out to the hallway to make the announcement. He was about 10 minutes old by then, and Greg said nurses kept coming out of the room, but no one would give them any details about anything. I think he was a bit worried, but I assured him all was well and after awhile, he met his grandson.

I brought them home on Wednesday and slowly our life is taking on a new routine and a new “normal”. Jess is a natural at being a mommy. Right now they’re snuggled into the recliner, both asleep.

He’s a lucky boy to be so well-loved.