Fond Memories

I was laying in bed with Wyatt the day before yesterday as he snuggled into me, fast asleep, and I started thinking.  He is almost 2 (MY ! how time flies), and for the older two kids, Jim bought both of them their first bikes on their 2nd birthday (albeit too big bikes lol).  Anyway, I was looking at Wyatt and thinking that he is so much smaller than my other two kids were at this age, and that he probably wouldn't be ready for a bike until a bit later than the other two.  I think they started being able to reach the pedals around age 3.  This got me trying to remember when I first started riding a bike with no training wheels, and I had some vivid flashes of memory.  The first home we lived in when my parents got married was an apartment complex.  I remember this apartment complex having funky stairs, in that they didn't go straight down, but there was a curve in them.  Like, you go down half way, and there's a landing, you turn, and go down the rest of the way.  I remember my mom threw up outside our door on our way to church one night, but that's unrelated lol.  My grandparents came to visit while we lived there, and I believe that they brought me a bike.  I may have already had it, I'm not sure.  I started riding with no training wheels on that visit though, and I fell off and scraped my knee fairly bad.  My grandpa took me in and cleaned up my knee, but I had a little flap of skin that he was worried might have a piece of gravel under, and he was concerned that if he left it, it might get infected.  So I remember he took a sewing needle and wanted to use it to get it out, and I was very afraid of being poked.  I remember him telling me "don't worry, punkin!  I would never cause you any pain.  Do you trust me?"  Of course, I said yes, and he put the needle sideways and used it to flip up the little flap of skin so that he could see under it.  No gravel.

But that got me to remembering something else about that visit.  Well, beyond the fighting that my grandparents excused themselves from the table and locked themselves in my parents room to do.  My grandmother had brought with her a bunch of white tea set items that my mom and aunt had played with when they were little.  My grandmother and I set up the tea set in the living room, and were having a good old time.  At one point, my grandma asked me for some more tea.  Well, we weren't using anything, not even water, so this was air tea.  I said sure and picked up the tea pot, and tipped it over her cup, just for a split second, and started to giggle.  Grandma looked into the cup, sniffled and made herself pretend to be sad and said "that's all I get??" Of course, I thought that was hysterical and started laughing :D

As I'm writing this I'm remembering that I'm fairly certain this is the place where I hid behind the chair and ate an ENTIRE bag of mini marshmallows when we were moving in, and I also remember my Aunt Cynthia coming to visit, and I think her friend Rachel?  I think that was her name anyway.  I'm not 100% certain of that.  I keep having flashes of other memories too, but not as clear.  Like, I think we used to go feed the ducks at a pond near those apartments, and I remember a little boy about my age there.  And I remember being a little older and being babysat in a mobile home park where Sister Pettit lived, and stealing a much bigger kid's bike to ride, and it was so big that my feet didn't quite reach, so I had to use the tip of my toe to pull the pedal up within reach.

It is weird how much I remember from this time period.  I believe I  was only 4 when we moved into those apartments.

First attempt at Guacamole

I have never made Guac before, but a friend of mine (Susan W.) made some while we were all out on the boats, and Jim really liked it, so I had to try my hand.  With the help of Susan H. I bought an avocado, and today I delved in.  Here's the recipe.

1 Avocado, lightly smashed.
4-6 cherry tomatoes, cut into quarters
1 1/2 teaspoons garlic paste
2 teaspoons cilantro paste
salt and pepper to taste
1 tablespoon lemon juice

Mix it all up and serve with chips.

It turns out that Jim isn't a huge fan of Guacamole.  But he does like a little bit with chips, and he ate quite a bit of it and said it was a good flavor.  Susan H. is a fan, and she really liked it.  So my next try will be with salsa :)

Thank You

This is somewhat vicodine induced, so I apologize if I ramble. 

I was watching my baby boy as we lay together for him to nurse, and he was drifting off to sleep, and I began thinking about my experience with my hospitalization, his birth and subsequent hospitalization, and I just had this overwelming thankfulness feeling for the people who surrounded me during such a difficult time.

Roxy, it means so much to me that you stayed with me in the hospital, that you played such an important part in my induction, that you were there for me when I knew that Wyatt would be taken from my body.  Your support and words meant the world to me, and I don't think I could have reconciled myself to the situation without your words.   You were right... Wyatt knew the best and safest way to come for him.

Dr. Sheive and the nursing staff, thank you so being so respectful of my wishes for as natural a childbirth as possible.  Even though things did not go as planned, the knowledge that I could have had everything I had wanted if not for the complications was very comforting.

Dr. Ege, I know we didn't see eye to eye on everything, but you were very respectful of my desires to not give Wyatt eye ointment and to breastfeed.  Your help enabled me to keep from giving Wyatt a bottle, something I did not want to do.

To the lactation consultant - your help was amazing.  When breastfeeding wasn't going exactly as planned, you showed me how to correct his latch.  I was painfree shortly after leaving the hospital.

Andrea, I know a lot of people didn't get it, but your laughter and high spirits is exactly what I needed to get through such a traumatic experience.  I don't know if you knew it or not, but I really appreciated the mental boost you gave me.

Gina, you haven't been my friend as long as the other people who were in the hospital with me, but I couldn't have asked for a better person to round out my support team.  You are so precious to me and I adore you.  Thank you for coming to see me while I was waiting to be induced.  I know it took a lot away from your sleep, and I really appreciate you making that sacrifice for me.  I needed that mental boost during a time when I was worrying about being induced, and you took my mind off the negative and reminded me of the positive.

Julie, my precious gem of a friend.  You are absolutely amazing and I am so happy that you got to be there in the hospital when Wyatt was born.  I know you didn't have a very good experience with the hospital staff who were being jerks to you, but I am glad that you got to see him, and that you came back to visit us.

Jared, thank you SO MUCH for loaning me your laptop.  I was so bored in the days prior to Wyatt's birth, and your laptop really made the time go faster.  It also helped me to keep people updated on my progress and Wyatt's progress after he was born.  Thank you for coming to see me with Julie after Wyatt was born.  I'm glad you got the time to meet and hold him :)

Brenda, thank you so much for coming to visit me, and for bringing me a book that I had dearly wanted.  I am so greatful to you and Val for helping Jim with the house, even though he tried to get it done before you got there :)  I am so thankful to both of you.

Valarie (I hope I spelled your name right), I am so thankful for your sacrifice of time to come and visit me in the hospital.  Your smiling face was always such a joy.

Susan's momma (I'll put in your name when I remember it lol - remember that I'm on vicodine), I am so glad to have gotten the opportunity to meet you, and that you got to meet my son as well.  I feel like I have known you for years.  You were there when I had questions about the church, and you cheerfully answered everything.  I was so happy to tell you when I got baptized, and I wish you could be there on the 3rd when Wyatt is blessed.

Vic - thank you so much for coming and giving me a blessing the day before I was to be induced.  It was very comforting to be reminded that Heavenly Father cares about me, and cares about my health and well-being.

To the men who came and said a blessing over Wyatt when he was newborn.  I wish I could remember your names.  It meant a lot to me that you were willing to come to the hospital to pray over him.  I was so worried for him, and it was such a comfort to me to have that blessing.

Uncle Randy, I don't think we've ever spent so much time together consecutively as we did after Wyatt's birth.  Thank you for caring so much about me when you found out that I was going to have a ceserean.  I am sorry I wasn't better company because of constantly passing out without warning lol.  I appreciate the time you were able to spend with me and Wyatt.

Jim, you are an amazing person and a wonderful husband.  You were such a good stay at home dad, and I was surprised at just how good you were.   You put me to shame, but that's a good thing.  There is always room for improvement, and I thank you for being there for the kids when I couldn't be.

And finally, I didn't forget you, Susan.  I don't think you will even truly know just how much I appreciated you being there for me before and after Wyatt's birth.  You even donated your breast milk for Wyatt to cut down on the amount of formula going into his little belly, even when the nursing staff was having such a difficult time with it.  Thank you for standing by me and laughing when they finally gave the "okay" (as if we needed their permission lol).  Hopefully, they will be more lax with donated breast milk in the future.  I didn't realize it until later that you were purposefully not falling asleep completely so that I would be able to keep Wyatt in my arms while I slept, something they frowned on.  I appreciate greatly the sacrifice you made.  I am so glad that you were there and were able to bond so strongly with Wyatt, and I'm glad you got to have skin-to-skin time with him.  There is something so very special about that skin-to-skin contact, and I am glad you got to have it.

The Horse

The Horse, Explained

By Nicole Cliffe| April 25, 2012

You may or may not be familiar with The Horse. Perhaps as a child, you had many Marguerite Henry books, or you watched National Velvet every day after school for four months, or you pretended to be taking jumps over fences during long car rides. Perhaps you held fake weddings for your model horses (in retrospect, your pink My Little Pony was ill-suited for a life with your foot-high faux-Shadowfax).
Some of us, apparently, actually got to take riding lessons as children, which allowed said children to get all of this out of their system at an early age, while others did not gain access to actual horses until moving to the sticks in their mid-twenties and discovering that full-board was cheaper than their city parking space had been.
In your mid-twenties and beyond, the equine learning curve is steeper. You are further from the ground. You do not bounce upon making contact with the ground, so much as splat. You are closer to being aware of your own mortality. (You are mortal, in case you didn't know.)
If you haven't spent a lot of time around horses, you may have the idea that they are like dogs and cats (really big, dangerous dogs and cats). This is untrue. YOU are like dogs and cats, in that you are a predator. Let's not get sucked into the canines/intestines/primates-eating-fruit aspect of our disputed status as omnivores. The fact is, if someone says to you "hey, let's try this new brunch place that has amazing cocktails," there's a decent chance you'll say "great, meet you there." Your dog feels similarly. New things are fun! That is because you are a predator.
Prey animals do not think new things are fun. New things, if you are a prey animal, usually mean a swift death. Horses are like deer. They see something unexpected, they freeze for a second, and then they book it on out of there. They don't like to leave the herd. They have no interest in breakfast cocktails. If you try to take your horse to a new brunch place, you need to convince them that a) you've been there before, b) there are no cave trolls at the brunch place, c) there will be other horses at the brunch place, and d) you will be a royal pain in their ass until they quit dicking around and agree to go to the brunch place.
There's a decent wash-out rate when people begin riding horses, for just this reason. It's also why you should begin your equine journey on a five-thousand-year-old Quarter Horse gelding. They've been to a lot of brunch places, and if you give them something resembling the correct cue, they'll do what you say.
Or, you can be kind of a fool, and buy (see picture) a stunningly beautiful three-year-old half-Thoroughbred mare who, if asked to come up with a list of her fears, would instead come up with a (brief) list of not-fears (her own stall, dressage arenas, baths, treats, boy horses). This is not...necessarily...a disaster, if you have a good trainer (thanks, Aurora!) and are not in a rush. But it's not what you would call a good idea.
What happens, though, when you fall in love with an ill-advised horse, is you become kind of a wonderful bitch, in a good way. You have to be braver than you really are, or you'll get hurt. You have to fake it. You have to convince this beautiful, dumb, flighty creature that you are a strong and bossy person who knows what's best. You need to pretend you're a horse, as a rider, in a way you never really have to empathize with your dog or cat. "Oh, there's a plastic bag drifting across the arena. That's terrifying." "That other mare is in heat, and if I get too close to her, she's going to kick me in the face." "Everyone's getting fed right now, so we kind of want to duck out at the gate."
Horses are sublime. They're gorgeous mythical beasts that emerge from antiquity to destroy your bank account and break your collarbone. They're fragile. They're dangerous. They need new shoes every six to eight weeks. They eat your heart. They fall in love with your vet, and deliberately colic themselves in order to spend more time with him.
You are not vitally important to your horse, not really, not like you are to your dog, ever. They never figure out who you are, and why you do the silly things you do. You have to forge a relationship with your horse while knowing that, given the chance, they'd probably rather hang out with their buddies than spend time with you. But then, one day you pull up to the barn, and you realize that your horse has memorized the sound of your car, as opposed to other people's cars, and has wandered over to the gate to greet you.
It makes you feel lucky. Not just "oh, God, I can afford to do this idiotic sport" lucky, which you should feel every day, but some kind of stupid semi-spiritual lucky, because you've managed to connect with an animal ten times your size, and convinced them to ignore every instinct they possess in order to let you clamber onto their back and stick a metal bar in their mouth. It's crazy. It doesn't make any sense.
You're a horse-person now. Maybe it'll pay off when the zombies come, and the gas pumps stop working.

Land Down Under

I was in my car yesterday when this song came on, and I had a total flashback.  I think we were on our way to Winthrop, although it could have been Canby... I know Luke was born at this point.  Anyway, I was sleeping across the front seat with my head in Jim's lap, when I woke up to him singing this song, wailing his heart out.  I smiled when I remembered that.  Sometimes he takes my breath away :)