Cindy's Life as She Knows It

One year ago today I was in a North Carolina hospital room waiting anxiously as my daughter labored to deliver my first grandchild.  I will never forget the miracle of her birth.  I was right there, watching her crown and then come into the world and change our lives forever more.  I cried, I trembled, I smiled through my tears.  The magnitude of the feelings was intense.  She was much smaller than we had expected, but full of spunk and thankfully, very healthy.  I remember it like it was yesterday, watching them lay her on the warming pad and clean her up.  She had a little cone head, but she was gorgeous, with dark hair and good color.  I remember going out into the hall to get my husband, a new grandfather! and my son, a new uncle!  They were walking down the hall as I rounded the corner and they were able to come in and see her within minutes of her birth.  My six year old son stood on his toes and gazed at her and fell in love, right then.  The look on his face was so soft and the

This little boy was born weighing less than a sack of sugar.  His skin was see through and his head was the size of a very small orange.  He was only as long as a ruler. This little boy couldn't suckle on his own; couldn't breathe on his own; couldn't keep his body temperature at a safe point.  He "popped a lung" at three days old and had a tube inserted.  He needed three blood transfusions.  He needed tests, x-rays, MRI's.  This little boy was a fighter.  He didn't know that babies born so small weren't supposed to survive.  He didn't hear when they said that his first 72 hours were critical.  He didn't see them shake their heads and look at him with fear in their eyes. This little boy thrived.  He was strong and he had a zest for life.  He heard his Daddy's voice and he felt the stroke of his mommy's hand. They were always by his side.  He saw the pictures his sisters had drawn for him.  He felt the love surrounding him.  He knew,

Sunday our friends and family gathered here at my house to celebrate the first birthday of my little granddaughter, Natalie Ann.  It was a glorious day, sunny skies, a breeze and perfect temperatures.  My daughters arrived to help around noon and we put the baby down for a nap so she would be fresh for her company.  She woke right on schedule as the guests were arriving and my daughter dressed her in an adorable print dress that was perfect for her sweet baby rolls and bright blue eyes.  She had grandmoms and grandpas, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends to give her attention and she was the perfect little angel.  She played nicely in the bounce house and in the little play yard Kris and I created out of our two individual ones.  There was lots of good food and about 4:30 we got her settled in her high chair and brought out the single large cupcake cake with buttercream icing and sang Happy Birthday to my littlest love.  My daughter placed the cupcake in front of her and at first she w

Today was busy from start to finish.  I got up and got some laundry and chores done and then headed out to Dakota's baseball game.  It was a beautiful morning for it, but my frustration level was high today.  The kids weren't really into the game, dragging about everything, and Dakota, of course, was being...well...Dakota.   I tried to stay out of things as much as possible and just keep score.  On the way home, however, Dakota wanted to know if he was ready for metro ball next year.  I could blow smoke up the kids bottom if I wanted, but I was honest, telling him that metro kids give 110% all the time during games and practice and they don't sass and talk back to their coaches.  He seemed a bit wounded, but the fact is, he's a lazy ball player and I can't really relate to that.  He's got the skills and the body for it, but he feels that he can just drag around, halfheartedly making attempts and still play metro caliber ball.  That isn't happening.  It just

I have decided that staying home for days at a time because you want to is wonderful, but staying home for days at a time because you have to, not so much!  I have been in this house exclusively for four straight days now and I have a bit of cabin fever.  I desperately am in need of adult conversation and the kids are going a bit crazy, as well.  I thought we'd go outside for awhile today, but the wind is going pretty strong.  We can't take a walk because of my ankle.  We can't drive anywhere because my car is in the shop.  UGH!!  I am hoping that my daughter is willing to drive me to BJ's this afternoon so I can do a little of my grocery shopping and get out of this house for a bit!  I'm done!

Sunday morning dawned chilly, foggy and with a misty rain, but I had a livingroom full of yard sale goods, had posted 30 signs in the neighborhood and had three friends coming at 6am to set up with me, so this was a "go".  I woke my older son, who promised to help me, and together we got what we could out into the yard.  My friends showed up and they too set up.  By 8:30 things were a little brighter and I got the last of my things out of the house and onto blankets and tables in the yard.  We didn't have a good turn out in the early morning, mostly due to the weather, so I thought I would put 10 more signs out quickly before people headed to church a few streets over for the morning service. I posted three or four and then pulled into the 7-11 parking lot, grabbed a flier and my tape and jumped out of the truck.  As I rounded the back of the truck I stepped into a hole in the parking lot and went down hard, my left ankle making awful noises and red hot pain shooting thro

Today is my older son's last day of high school.  I have been reminded this morning, as I sit here and reminisce about his school years, of many firsts and lasts along the way.  I remember when he was first in preschool, so tiny with blond curls and a fiery spirit.  He wasn't ready for any kind of school yet, but he was three so off he went, two mornings a week.  I know now that I should have waited.  The teachers would have appreciated it!  He had trouble with potty training, trouble with getting along with others, trouble with conforming to the rules.  In every picture all the kids would be smiling in the group and Brian would be on the floor, throwing a fit.  Yep, that's my boy!  He went through two years that way and when Ms. Brenda told us he wasn't ready for kindergarten yet and we needed to give him one more year in preschool, my husband and I struggled with the decision.  Was she right?  We knew she was, but it's hard to make any decision that may be the wro