Shake it Shake it Shake it dont stop!

Today is all about Boy Stories...so here's another... That Boy has always been a mover and and a shaker...in-utero he did front flips just about every waking moment... well now we know he was practicing flip turns for swim... those flip turns made his mother (ME) uncomfortable... constantly... so when I had had enough I would stand feet hip width apart and shake my belly like a go-go dancer while chanting "Shaken Baby Syndrome" ...I suppose it stunned him, because he'd stop flipping for a few minutes... My daddy HATED when I did that, hed say "Stop doing that you are gonna make that boy a fool" ... 2 seconds ago · Cincinnati, OH

The Miracle of Birth

12-2-13 today is Spen2s 11th birthday... I thought I would take some time to regale you with stories surrounding the circumstances of his birth... Which is pretty funny given I had be deemed unable to conceive @1992... So, in January 2002 I am sitting in the Este Conference Center @ Sunday Morning Worship Service with New Beginning Covenant Church. Pastor Teresa was on FIRE that day...I believe that that sermon topic may have been "2002, Its Your year!" I accepted that thing and believed it. What it meant to me was that in 2002 our business, Cuisines Catering, was going to BLOW UP in 2002... see, the business was my baby! You will soon understand why I always say "God has Jokes". January went well. My friend Jeff Harris helped me land a big contract that I'd coveted for years... we were balling shot --calling... then March... boom we hit a wall. In April, my beloved Grandmother, Blanche Teresa Taggart (ala Blanche's All-Butter Pound Cake) had a stroke ...she passed away... I was devastated.. and I was SICK... Every piece of fried chicken someone brought by the house was clearly old or too greasy... I drank ginger ale after ginger ale, but I was still sick. I get home to Cincinnati I am still sick ... clearly its me...Im thinking, I know its April, but, I have the FLU... I call my sister, Cheryl Wilson, the nurse BS-RN to be exact. She wasnt convinced I had the flu... she says "Jackie, do me a favor, before you go to the doctor, take a pregnancy test...they are going to probably make you take one anyway"... Aaargh, resentful. I go buy the dang thing...the Walgreens brand...the cheapest one on the shelf. One thing a woman unable to conceive doesnt want to invest in is a reminder that she is, in fact, unable to conceive. I Go home, take the test... before I can sit it on the counter... POSITIVE... what?? Now that just made me really mad.. If you can make a pregnancy test have a false positive, you have SERIOUS issues... I tell my mother...Im sobbing, shes laughing... I said "this cheap test, false positive, just makes me feel bad" .. She shows up 15minutes later (thats my mama) with a bag full of EXPENSIVE EPT... One after the other... positive. Now I am nervous. When Spencer comes home, I dont even say anything... Hes watching the game in the basement... I go down and say... hey, look at this... show him 3 positive sticks. These things say I am pregnant....his response...clasic Spencer... "No SHI@??!!" Fast forward defying ALL odds I deliver a PERFECT 8 lb 5oz baby boy on 12/2/02 at 1:31pm. So now its January 2003, I am in the Estes Center with Spen2 is in his little pumpkin seat on the floor... Pastor T says "its Your Year"... I was surly thought to myself "thats what you said last year, and my business is in shambles right now... worse than ever" THEN GOD SAID.... "Who ever said anything about your business? I said 2002 was your year...that you were going to be blessed beyond measure.... AND LOOK WHAT I HAVE DONE!!!!" He caused my eyes to look down upon my most FABULOUS son....Perfect in every way.... At that moment I repented and realized the meaning of the scripture that says Gods ways are not our ways.... translation: "Gods Got Jokes" Happy Birthday, my son, 2002 was definitely MY year, and every single one since... Mommy loves you! (yep, I dont care if hes nearly as tall as me and that is voice is changing....Im still his mommy, hhhmph)

KID FREE does not equal STRESS FREE

So, the last 30 hours...

Spen2 spent the night at my sisters (you know, the RN?? Cheryl Wilson)... because he was out late with friends at Kings Island and got dropped off there at 10:30pm.  He awakens with an EARACHE... huh? This kid is a healthy as an ox...unless there's something big going on... guess what? There's something BIG going on.  You see, he'd been invited to go on vacation to Lake Sunapee in NH with a friend from school.  Eight days on the lake boating, fishing, swimming... just paradise... flight leaves at 1:30pm...TODAY.   The NURSE suggests we take him to the doctor --to be safe.  I'm at work. My mother takes him to the doctor ... he's put on antibiotics as a precaution and given ear drops...he's going to be okay... MAY have infection but he can fly...its all good.  Mom gets him on the drugs right away... I pick him up last evening...he's OK...he says it still hurts but otherwise he feels fine.  Feed him, medicate him, put him to bed for a good nights rest.  He's going to be great in the morning, right? WRONG!  Wake him up at 7 to give him the meds so he can lay back down after... HES in P-A-I-N.... he's in tears...he tells me I need to call the family he's going on vacation with and tell him he cant make it.... Did I mention that THEY picked up ALL of the expenses.... YIKES...that's horrible.  BUT if I send him and he gets worse, I'm going to be on an expensive last minute flight to New Hampshire to get my boy.... Where is New Hampshire anyway...can you drive there? Is it an island? Don't you have to take a boat to get there?  Anyway. I don't even have time to go all Granny Clampitt and make an Onion Poultice....or a Garlic paste... I call the doctor.  He's not panicked until I remind him that he has a FLIGHT...and I am not even going on the trip.   LONG STORY SHORT.... ER at Children's Hospital Liberty Township is the BOMB!  Dr. Bradley Jacksons Pediatrics is the BOMB...Drugs are AMAZING... The family he is travelling with is THE BOMB.... I am going to take a nap...then I am going to post KID FREE WEEK is the BOMB... maybe a nap and some anxiety medication..  THANK YOU GOD... cant believe another miracle healing pulled off!

Nap Time

I just picked up the boy and we had a conversation ...thought you would enjoy this one.  Me: I sure could stand a nap right now
Spen2:  I could always stand a nap
Me: NOT true... you NEVER took naps as a baby/toddler/little person.... as a matter of fact you Dropped out of a pre-school after ONE day because of their napping policy.
Spen2:  Oh yeah, I remember that.

So here's what happened y'all.  I did all of this research and finally found a pre-school that I thought worthy of my boy and his talents.   We (his daddy and I) decided that he needed PRE SCHOOL and not daycare.   I take him for a "trial day"-- a few hours...the boy says he likes it.  


I take him for his first day of "school"... Drop him off.   He's having a blast!  Loves the place....until... NAP TIME... they tell him its nap time...screech..... Drop the Mic

He says "I don't take naps" 

They tell he has to...he tells them

"No, I will just go home then... Call my momma"...

They refused to call me.... From that moment on, he was DONE with the place.  My mother picks him up at 3:45 (SHE decided that 3:30 was long enough --even though I paid for the WHOLE DAY)... She asks if he had fun.  In front of the Director of the Pre-School and all of his little friends he made before naptime, he says "I not go back" 

He was 3yrs old.  Told his grandmother he wasn't going back, because he didn't like it.  His grandmother... my feisty mother... calls me-- on my job --and tells me that I need to find another option because he "doesn't like it"...seriously?  Since when is he the boss??!...

So, I get home.  He tells me he's not going back.  I tell him he IS in fact going back.   We go around... I think he gets it.  He then proceeds to tell me that they don't do "Sh@T" at the school.  I said... did you just say "sh@t"?  He looks at me WAY too innocently and says... yes.  I said "where did you learn that word?..."they taught me at SCHOOL".... This kid is BRILLIANT...but, I didn't fall for it.  I tell him I don't care if they taught him that word or not...he was, in fact, going back, because I had paid my money.   If he said the word again he was going back with a sore behind. 

Think he gave up there?  Oh no.  This was not long after we had FINALLY weaned him off of the pacifier (which he called a Ba-Ba).... A few minutes later he proceeds to tell me that he didn't like the place because they made him take a nap and suck a Ba-Ba.... RIGHT!!! He made all of that up...  This is when I started realizing that he might be a genius and I needed to be on full alert at all times.  "Spencer, are you saying they made you use a pacifier?"  "yes, I told them I didn't want to, but they said I was a Baby and needed one"...

Yep, that happened.   So you want to know how it turned out??... well, HE won....HOW?  I want you to know to this day I haven't figured out how he did it, but somehow, that night he spiked a fever of 103... he was fevered...with NO other symptoms (except lethargy) for THREE DAYS... that's Tues/Wed/Thur...then you have to be fever free for 24 hrs in order to go back to school.... that took care of the week.  

On Thursday MY grandmother calls me and tells me that I need not take that baby back to that school if he hated it so much that it made him sick.....

Yeah, that happened!

The Clank Heard Round the World

Yesterday Spen2 made me so proud at his baseball game, not only by being an incredible athlete, but by approaching the Throne of Grace for a friend.   Spen2 has a little friend at the fancy private school, let's just call him Hadeem (I just made that up, is that even a real name?).   Hadeem is about 4ft 8in tall and weighs about, i dont know, 70lbs.   He's a little bitty little fella. 

 

As far as I can tell Hadeem is bright, brilliant even, but he can't catch or hit.---  By the way, he can't shoot basketball either, but I digress. 

 

Last week, after his glorious save, he got to thinking about what a miserable game Hadeem had: Struck out 4X, dropped 3-4 balls that came to him.  He just looked like the Captain of the Bad News Bears!  Spencer started thinking that it wasn't fair that he had done so well when Hadeem was miserable.  He told me that he wished Hadeem had more confidence.  He said that "Hadeem  is a much better Athlete than he thinks he is". 

 

Fast forward to yesterday.  The team was down by 8 in the bottom of the 6th.  The bats come alive, the other teams pitching is awful...next thing you know, the move ahead run is at third.  Spen2 is at 2nd.  Again, I SEE him praying -I think he is thanking God for HIS hit and RBI- Hadeem is at bat. Coach Eddies just talking him thru it "follow thru with your hips, don't swing if it's eye level, keep your elbows up, keep your knees bent". The pitcher releases. Hadeem swings that bat with everything he's got and CLANK!  That was a solid line drive to the outfield!  

 

Hadeem drove in the winning run! 

 

When Spen2 came in he was soooo excited.  Not just because the team won, but because all that time his mouth was moving on 2nd base, he was praying for Hadeem!!!!  

 

Thank you Father!  If I never do anything else in my life, I know this, I have encouraged a child to pray and created, therefore a MIGHTY MAN of GOD. 

 

Ha! So my family does a daily prayer text message.  No one is exempt.   Spen2 had prayer this morning and this is what he sent....un-retouched.

 

2 Corinthians 10:17-18 ()
17 Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord. 18 For it is not the one who commends himself who is approved, but the one whom the Lord commends.
Ok so i think I know what this means. Do not be "cocky" unless you do it in th lord. Everything you do is not you but The Lord showing favor and blessing in you. Lord thank you for all you do. Thank you for strength health and extra like brilliance and athletisim. I can't do what I do without you and there's no way I can make it without you. We want to pray for the entire healing of uncle John and to keep the family healthy and brilliant. In Jesus name amen from spen2

Its Been a While

So what happened to me since my last post..... Holy mackerel, what didn't happen!  I will eventually go back and catch you all up on the in between stuff, some of which was quite amusing..... But, for now, how about I just cover the last couple of weeks. 

Right after Memorial Day I found a green pea sized lump in my left breast.  No biggie, I have fibrocystic breast.  I find a lump, I call the amazing Dr jennifer Manders, she gets me in, does an ultrasound, says its a cyst, asks if its bothering me a lot. If I say yes, she aspirates, if I say no, I go home. Simple.  

Not this time.

This time, its solid.  Insert sad face.  This time we need to do a needle biopsy.  Insert titanium clip...  Okay, that is uncomfortable, I leave with what looks like a cast on my left breast.  Call back in a week.  

A week goes by.  I forgot to call back, because I've done this a few time.   Then I get a call.  Well , Jackie,  this is a little different "atypical lobular hyperplasia".  We need to do an excisional biopsy.  We need to get it out to make sure there is nothing sinister hiding behind it.   I'm at the hospital on Tuesday, let's do it then.   

Okay.   Will I need to take the day off of work?.... Seriously, that is what I asked.  She suggested that I be really good to myself and take the following day as well.  Awesome, good idea, I can take Spen2 and his boyz to Kings Island..... I'm psyched!  

Days later the hospital calls, they tell me I need to have pre-op testing.   'Oh no, I'm just having a biopsy."

"Right, a lumpectomy, I see that.   We will need for you to have a physical none the less"

OK...side note, I've been avoiding my PCP for a couple of years since he challenged me to lose 10 pounds....

I go in for the pre-op on a day when my doctor is on vacation.  His partner doesn't even touch me.    That is my kind of doctor!    He doesn't ask about my weight.  He doesn't make a note.   He signs off on the paperwork while telling me about the boyscout camp he's going to lead the next week.   Done.   He doesn't even ask if I have any questions.

That afternoon the hospital calls back and gives me instructions.  Don't eat after midnight-- who does?  Don't take any aspirin for a week--- too late!  Be at the hospital at 7am---huh? My procedure isn't until 9.... We need to get you prepped and changed.  Who will be driving you home? --- uh, ME.   Oh no way.   You will be put into a twilight sleep via anesthesia, you will not be permitted to drive for 24 hours----me, calculating what time we can leave for Kings Island...OK, my sister or my mother, probably.   Ms Boyd, you will be required to have a driver to be released----okay okay, I got it.  

I arrive at the hospital on the day of the procedure to a flurry of activity.  Take off your clothes--- you mean my shirt and bra?   No, all of your clothes, shoes, jewelry, hair clips..... anything removable in your mouth-like a retainer? No.. Anything removable in your eyes---I'm giggling, picturing Sammy Davis Jr popping his eyeball out at this point.

The anesthesiologist arrives and sees the IV is active (which I figure was for fluids) and asks if I would like something to help me relax----do I look tense?   Me--No, but how about some coffee?!

The amazing Dr Manders arrives.  I immediately inform her that all of these people are acting like I am having"real" surgery.   She asks what I think I am having.... My response.."a procedure"...   "What ever makes you happy, Jackie".   

I figure I may have insulted her a little.  Not considering this as "real" surgery, discounted her status as a "real" surgeon.   This lump was the size of a green pea.  She's going to take something like an exacto knife make a quarter inch slit, pop it out and off I go!

So, I roll into the OR wide awake.... Look around and there are 12 people in the room!

"Who are all of these people??????".  They all started speaking at once.   One person is putting some inflation devices on my legs....I know what these are for....

"Hey, geez, how long are you expecting me to be in here?"

"Do you all realize that you are all speaking at once?  I can't understand..". And OUT.....that's the last thing I remember.

An hour later I awaken with a three inch wound,  another boob cast and one big Dolly Parton boob.

Let's just say the next day was not spent at Kings Island.  

How to Have a Heart Attack

I have decided that one sure fire way to make certain that you have heart trouble in your latter years is to give birth to an athlete.

 

Saturday was the first game of the 2013 Baseball Season at the fancy private school. After four, count them, four, intense (intense as in NOT) practices ... The Coach/Dad thinks the team is ready. I suppose they are as ready as fancy private school athletes get, I guess.

 

Practice season got cut a little short since there's a two week Spring Break at the fancy private school. No way you could submit your kid to that last six weeks of the fifth grade on just a one week break. That would be just mean!  Geez, guys you'd have to choose between skiing in Colorado or going to Europe. There's almost no way you could do both.  At least not flying commercially!  But I digress.

 

Back to the game Saturday......

 

By some miraculous turn of events, our boys are up by 6 going into the 6th and final inning.  The pitcher, the boy's nemesis, is starting to lose his luster.  He allows three runs and then loads the bases.

 

lets take a side trip for those of you that are unfamiliar with fifth grade baseball:  

 

See, there is very little good pitching, hitting or fielding going on at the fifth grade level.  Typically, what happens is that the pitcher walks a batter. Then the batter steals 2nd base --because these boys cant catch the coaches wont even allow them to try to pick a base runner off.  The runner then proceeds to steal third....then the next batter strikes out swinging at balls that are way over his head, but the third "strike pitch" is so dang wild that the catcher cant handle it (read, it didn't land square in the glove--insert eye roll) it hits the backstop.  While the catcher is frantically trying to recover the ball, the kid on third base steals home!   That's how runs are made in 5th grade baseball.

 

Back to Saturday.  The bases are now loaded.  The winning run is on 1st base.  Coach decides we need a new pitcher (really??)  So, who gets the call? Spen2 called off 1st base to pitch.... 1st game of the season, only four practices, bases loaded, only brown kid on the team (one... of two on the field, the opposing team -another fancy private school- had one, also). 

 

I move my folding "mommy chair" to right behind home plate.  I am eyeball to eyeball with my kid.  I know the game rest on me.  I must encourage each and every pitch out of this kid. I have heart palpitations... my hands are numb, what does that mean???

 

Spen2 allows two runs. I see his mouth moving, he closes his eyes, opens them and looks skyward...ooh, that's my boy, he's PRAYING! 

 

Then schwoop, strike one....

 

Schwoop, strike two. This is it. One more strike and its over....

 

He winds up and releases a beautiful pitch, which the batter nailed, CLANK!...  The ball was hit right back at Spencer!  The ball takes a bounce, and Spencer by instinct alone, snatched the ball on the bounce with his bare hand, spun around, threw it to first base....

 

OUT! 

 

Yeah boy!  Now that's my boy....

 

My right eye is twitching, but at least my hands aren't numb anymore!