Lingo
This time of year I love to watch football. Playoff and Bowl games keep me occupied to one degree or another. I prefer to make picks or predictions on what team will win. It makes every game just that much more interesting.
Last night was the Fort Worth Somethingorrather Bowl; the Texas Christian University Horned Frogs versus the Boise State University Broncos. I asked Emma what team she was cheering for, "Do you want the Frogs or the Broncos?"
"What's a brontos?" she asked.
"It's a wild horse." I responded.
"Ummm, da brontos." she answered.
"That's who I want too," I said.
Abbie thought about it awhile then decided on the Horned Frogs since that is from where Kristi had graduated. Emma quickly changed her mind to side with Abbie.
Time went on and the game got really good. At one point the Broncos were ahead by one touchdown and I decided to put on the obnoxious professional wrestler's persona to make the friendly bet a bit more fun, "Oh boy, you two girlies are gonna lose big-time! The Broncos are ahead. You are going DOWNN!!!!"
Emma's eyes about popped out of her head and she immediately reciprocated the tone back to me, "Oh yeah? We you are going UUUUUPP!"
12.24.2003
12.19.2003
Sore Eyes
We were sitting in the recovery room at the Phoenix Children's Hospital after Ellie's second laser surgery on her hemangioma arm. We heard her crying as we were led into the room. This time it was more painful for her, and we could definitely tell. As Abbie comforted the tiny sore body, I sat next to them and allowed my eyes to wander to the other corners of the room.
The recovery room was one big square, quartered, with one bed in each corner. With each bed were the solemn faces of the anxious parents whispering to each other and staring at their babies. Their babies on this occasion ranged in age anywhere from Ellie at 2 months to about 12 years old.
Unaware of the reasons that brought all of us into the same room, I could only assume we were the least tragic scenario. Cosmetic laser surgery versus congenital heart disease doesn't seem as critical as it did when we first walked into the building early that morning. Sure, our baby is only 2 months old, which makes it more of a sob story to some, but when you hear parents telling the recovery staff that they have had numerous surgeries and that they are completely aware how all of the anesthesia works, that is when reality quickly sets.
Keeping a cool composure is good for your spouse and I feel for all of the other pressured adults in the room. So I read a book in the silence, occasionally looking up from the pages to respond to a nurse or to view any new activity across the area.
I then noticed the little boy across from us. He was about 9 or 10 years old. It was his parents that told the nurses they knew the regiment and for them to cut to the chase. They sat patiently at bedside. Then they noticed the boy beginning to move. They leaped forward. Dad had a stuffed Gonzo muppet doll. Mom reached out to rub her son's arm. The pitch in their voices raised, even though they were soft-spoken. Words of encouragement and praise were given tenderly.
Suddenly, my parents appeared before me; superimposed over the two standing bodies in front of the bed. Dad hung the muppet off of his ear to try to make the young patient smile. The boy drifted back into unconsciousness. Zach's eyes were swallowed by the heavy eyelids as the boy metamorphasized into my brother. The walls surrounding us all transformed into my sibling's living room.
Although they were hundreds of miles away, although they were different in age and in stature, although we were in a hospital and my family in a home, they were the exact same people. These three individuals before me were the same balls of loving, frightened energy secretly screaming uncontrollably inside.
I immediately dropped my head and wept.
We were sitting in the recovery room at the Phoenix Children's Hospital after Ellie's second laser surgery on her hemangioma arm. We heard her crying as we were led into the room. This time it was more painful for her, and we could definitely tell. As Abbie comforted the tiny sore body, I sat next to them and allowed my eyes to wander to the other corners of the room.
The recovery room was one big square, quartered, with one bed in each corner. With each bed were the solemn faces of the anxious parents whispering to each other and staring at their babies. Their babies on this occasion ranged in age anywhere from Ellie at 2 months to about 12 years old.
Unaware of the reasons that brought all of us into the same room, I could only assume we were the least tragic scenario. Cosmetic laser surgery versus congenital heart disease doesn't seem as critical as it did when we first walked into the building early that morning. Sure, our baby is only 2 months old, which makes it more of a sob story to some, but when you hear parents telling the recovery staff that they have had numerous surgeries and that they are completely aware how all of the anesthesia works, that is when reality quickly sets.
Keeping a cool composure is good for your spouse and I feel for all of the other pressured adults in the room. So I read a book in the silence, occasionally looking up from the pages to respond to a nurse or to view any new activity across the area.
I then noticed the little boy across from us. He was about 9 or 10 years old. It was his parents that told the nurses they knew the regiment and for them to cut to the chase. They sat patiently at bedside. Then they noticed the boy beginning to move. They leaped forward. Dad had a stuffed Gonzo muppet doll. Mom reached out to rub her son's arm. The pitch in their voices raised, even though they were soft-spoken. Words of encouragement and praise were given tenderly.
Suddenly, my parents appeared before me; superimposed over the two standing bodies in front of the bed. Dad hung the muppet off of his ear to try to make the young patient smile. The boy drifted back into unconsciousness. Zach's eyes were swallowed by the heavy eyelids as the boy metamorphasized into my brother. The walls surrounding us all transformed into my sibling's living room.
Although they were hundreds of miles away, although they were different in age and in stature, although we were in a hospital and my family in a home, they were the exact same people. These three individuals before me were the same balls of loving, frightened energy secretly screaming uncontrollably inside.
I immediately dropped my head and wept.
12.17.2003
Naughty or Nice
We are at the theme park in Colorado called "North Pole." Guess what the motif is. It includes the world's highest ferris wheel and about a dozen fair/carnival rides for the kids. Of course, the main course is meeting and getting your photograph with old St. Nick, himself.
Abbie, Auntie Kristi (still pregnant), Emma and I dared the sub-zero temperatures one day during our past trip. We were warned at the entrance that we needed to go see Santa before the crowd swelled, so we did.
We pointed out to the mother-to-be the key differences between boys and girls just with the surrounding specimens. The girls were huddled together singing Christmas Carols. The boys? They were throwing sticks, jumping in the snow and climbing everything that could be climbed. They were entertained, and so were we.
After about a half an hour of standing in the biting wind, we reached the front door of St. Nicholas' "house." Inside were an elaborate array of toys, a photographer complete with all of the studio lighting, and a big armchair with the jolly fellow reclined comfortably. Right before being able to enter into the living room to recite your wish list, one could write in the guest book perched on a small shelf about three and a half feet off of the ground attached to the wall.
We were about three groups away from Mr. Claus when "it" happened. It was the funniest thing I had seen since Emma accidentally and profusely peed on herself during our Christmas tree cutting adventure.
A little girl about 9 or 10 had just gotten her photo taken with the big man and was suppose to exit his house like all of the other visitors, through the exit door. This gal, let's call her "Lucy" was not desiring the lemming approach to exiting, instead she wished to reek havoc on all of the cold cramped folks who still had not yet gotten to sit on the red suited one's lap. Lucy approached the gate where we were waiting.
The next woman in line told her that she was suppose to go out the other way.
"I don't want to." Lucy roughly stated.
"But everyone is coming in this way, you need to go that way." the kind-voice woman repeated while extending a finger to the exit door.
In an octave or two higher as well with much more force, Lucy exclaimed loudly, "I DON'T WANT TO GO THAT WAY!"
The stranger woman decided in an instant to not challenge the head-strong girl and opened the gate for her to go out the in door.
Instantly, Lucy cracked her noggin on that guest book signing shelf, right square on her temple. She dropped like Saddam in a rat-hole, right to her knees. There was a silent gasp of breathe by all that witnessed the painful contact between hard flesh and even harder wood.
Then I think the entire enclosed group of Santa helpers, parents, and even the bearded one, himself filled their faces, from ear to ear with smiles of self-satisfaction. As if each were thinking the same exact thing, "Instant Karma".
We are at the theme park in Colorado called "North Pole." Guess what the motif is. It includes the world's highest ferris wheel and about a dozen fair/carnival rides for the kids. Of course, the main course is meeting and getting your photograph with old St. Nick, himself.
Abbie, Auntie Kristi (still pregnant), Emma and I dared the sub-zero temperatures one day during our past trip. We were warned at the entrance that we needed to go see Santa before the crowd swelled, so we did.
We pointed out to the mother-to-be the key differences between boys and girls just with the surrounding specimens. The girls were huddled together singing Christmas Carols. The boys? They were throwing sticks, jumping in the snow and climbing everything that could be climbed. They were entertained, and so were we.
After about a half an hour of standing in the biting wind, we reached the front door of St. Nicholas' "house." Inside were an elaborate array of toys, a photographer complete with all of the studio lighting, and a big armchair with the jolly fellow reclined comfortably. Right before being able to enter into the living room to recite your wish list, one could write in the guest book perched on a small shelf about three and a half feet off of the ground attached to the wall.
We were about three groups away from Mr. Claus when "it" happened. It was the funniest thing I had seen since Emma accidentally and profusely peed on herself during our Christmas tree cutting adventure.
A little girl about 9 or 10 had just gotten her photo taken with the big man and was suppose to exit his house like all of the other visitors, through the exit door. This gal, let's call her "Lucy" was not desiring the lemming approach to exiting, instead she wished to reek havoc on all of the cold cramped folks who still had not yet gotten to sit on the red suited one's lap. Lucy approached the gate where we were waiting.
The next woman in line told her that she was suppose to go out the other way.
"I don't want to." Lucy roughly stated.
"But everyone is coming in this way, you need to go that way." the kind-voice woman repeated while extending a finger to the exit door.
In an octave or two higher as well with much more force, Lucy exclaimed loudly, "I DON'T WANT TO GO THAT WAY!"
The stranger woman decided in an instant to not challenge the head-strong girl and opened the gate for her to go out the in door.
Instantly, Lucy cracked her noggin on that guest book signing shelf, right square on her temple. She dropped like Saddam in a rat-hole, right to her knees. There was a silent gasp of breathe by all that witnessed the painful contact between hard flesh and even harder wood.
Then I think the entire enclosed group of Santa helpers, parents, and even the bearded one, himself filled their faces, from ear to ear with smiles of self-satisfaction. As if each were thinking the same exact thing, "Instant Karma".
One Wish
You know, in some perverted way I wish we were always reminded on a
daily occurrence the true importance of being good to each other. The
bittersweetness of a welcoming a new life into the world and one
preparing to leave is an amazing swirling mix of emotion and thoughts.
It is constant rejuvenation of the soul, as well as a biting kick in
the groin.
Pleasure and Pain or Yin and Yang as my friend says. The true balance of life.
You know, in some perverted way I wish we were always reminded on a
daily occurrence the true importance of being good to each other. The
bittersweetness of a welcoming a new life into the world and one
preparing to leave is an amazing swirling mix of emotion and thoughts.
It is constant rejuvenation of the soul, as well as a biting kick in
the groin.
Pleasure and Pain or Yin and Yang as my friend says. The true balance of life.
12.14.2003
Incoming
Early this morning (December 14, 2003 - 2:42 a.m.) my sister-in-law, Kristi Weien gave birth to my brother's baby boy, Caleb Cormack Weien at Evans Hospital at Fort Carson, Colorado Springs, Colorado.
He is 6 lbs, 1 oz, 18 inches long, slightly blonde and handsome.
Both Mom and baby are doing great.
Will have photos soon enough, but just wanted to share the excitement. We have been here, in Colorado Springs since Decemer 6th (my birthday) to celebrate my 31st birthday and Zach's 25th (on December 10th). On Friday we had an early Christmas which was fantastic. This, of course tops the trip off.
Kristi was not due until January 3rd, so despite my persistent prodding of her, I did not expect this to really happen.
We are very excited - also to hear now that Saddam has been captured too!!!! Oddly enough, the unit that captured him was the Fourth Infantry Division, which was Zachary's old unit.
We did not will the Powerball, but today is still rich with historical happenings!
Early this morning (December 14, 2003 - 2:42 a.m.) my sister-in-law, Kristi Weien gave birth to my brother's baby boy, Caleb Cormack Weien at Evans Hospital at Fort Carson, Colorado Springs, Colorado.
He is 6 lbs, 1 oz, 18 inches long, slightly blonde and handsome.
Both Mom and baby are doing great.
Will have photos soon enough, but just wanted to share the excitement. We have been here, in Colorado Springs since Decemer 6th (my birthday) to celebrate my 31st birthday and Zach's 25th (on December 10th). On Friday we had an early Christmas which was fantastic. This, of course tops the trip off.
Kristi was not due until January 3rd, so despite my persistent prodding of her, I did not expect this to really happen.
We are very excited - also to hear now that Saddam has been captured too!!!! Oddly enough, the unit that captured him was the Fourth Infantry Division, which was Zachary's old unit.
We did not will the Powerball, but today is still rich with historical happenings!
12.05.2003
Part One - Relief and Recovery
Well, what can you say when everything comes together flawlessly and with little to no effort? It makes you appreciate it so much more, especially if you are like me and attempt to plan out every specific detail.
What I am talking about (this time) is that we have just returned from the Phoenix Children's Hospital. We got a phone call on Monday from them reminding us that we had a scheduled laser surgery for Ellie's hemangioma on her right arm for Thursday at 7 am. We were surprised because we had not heard anything up to that point. We hadn't even heard if my insurance would cover any of the procedure. We were not ready to make a decision until after the holidays because we had originally gotten the impression that we didn't have to hurry.
Wrong again wisenheimer.
We had to have some answers from the doctor, and he did not get back to us until midday Wednesday. We were both ready to just not go at all.
Of course, we are also trying to get all our stuff together here and at work so that we can celebrate Christmas at my brothers... another long story, so don't worry about that part.
Long story, very short, Gene and Sally picked up Emma last night and we got up at 3 am. Fed the baby. Loaded her into the car and drove to the hospital by 6:30 am. She was admitted, even though she was seriously P.O.'d that she hadn't eaten for over 3 hours. Abbie put her on the surgery table, they ushered us out and forty-five minutes later Abbie was rocking our Gracie in her arms in the recovery room.
We just got home.
"Whirlwind," you say?
"And how," I respond.
"What does something like that look like?" - check out Ellie's quick progression.
Part Two - Realization
Now, I am not a religious person, but I believe that I am a very spiritual one. This entire situation has grabbed both Abbie and myself by the neck and forced us to come to the conclusion that we have been too hasty to criticize the decision-making and choices of others in similar situations. Like everyone, we have our opinions and up until now, have treated them as convictions. We have learned a valuable lesson by our over-zealous outspoken actions.
At the same time, this little thing has allowed me to rediscover the elation of fatherhood again. It is the feeling that I am sure many have experienced. Up until now, I almost feel that I was so busy with keeping my head and body busy that I had not been capable of feeling it. I had tried, but it is like forcing fun on someone, all it does is turn ugly and someone ends up crying and running home.
The simplest metaphor I can immediately conjure up is this:
You love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Every day you can't wait to taste one or two or more. Then, eventually, your taste buds no longer appreciate the sweet and stickiness the sandwich has to offer. So you gradually stop eating them, or even cut cold turkey. As time goes by, you begin to feel empty inside and can't seem to find the reason why. You try quesadillas, fruit and other lunch-time substitutes until someone offers you a PB and J, and you remember the wonderful relationship. At first bite, you can't believe you ever stopped devouring these things because they are the most fantastic pleasures you could ever fathom.
"You don't know what you got until it's gone" said someone, somewhere, sometime ago.
Right now, to me, that is the biggest fault of human beings. However, I don't know if it is something and we can truly understand or even control. I believe this is the reason why self-help, self-esteem boosting, spiritually uplifting forwarded e-mails are such an ongoing cycle. It may not pertain to your attitude today or the next, but eventually it will and you will want to share it with others. The volleying of positive words keeps the cycle rolling. But like the wheels in a watch, some roll around slower than others, but all come full circle at their own pace.
Today, my counter has reset.
Well, what can you say when everything comes together flawlessly and with little to no effort? It makes you appreciate it so much more, especially if you are like me and attempt to plan out every specific detail.
What I am talking about (this time) is that we have just returned from the Phoenix Children's Hospital. We got a phone call on Monday from them reminding us that we had a scheduled laser surgery for Ellie's hemangioma on her right arm for Thursday at 7 am. We were surprised because we had not heard anything up to that point. We hadn't even heard if my insurance would cover any of the procedure. We were not ready to make a decision until after the holidays because we had originally gotten the impression that we didn't have to hurry.
Wrong again wisenheimer.
We had to have some answers from the doctor, and he did not get back to us until midday Wednesday. We were both ready to just not go at all.
Of course, we are also trying to get all our stuff together here and at work so that we can celebrate Christmas at my brothers... another long story, so don't worry about that part.
Long story, very short, Gene and Sally picked up Emma last night and we got up at 3 am. Fed the baby. Loaded her into the car and drove to the hospital by 6:30 am. She was admitted, even though she was seriously P.O.'d that she hadn't eaten for over 3 hours. Abbie put her on the surgery table, they ushered us out and forty-five minutes later Abbie was rocking our Gracie in her arms in the recovery room.
We just got home.
"Whirlwind," you say?
"And how," I respond.
"What does something like that look like?" - check out Ellie's quick progression.
Part Two - Realization
Now, I am not a religious person, but I believe that I am a very spiritual one. This entire situation has grabbed both Abbie and myself by the neck and forced us to come to the conclusion that we have been too hasty to criticize the decision-making and choices of others in similar situations. Like everyone, we have our opinions and up until now, have treated them as convictions. We have learned a valuable lesson by our over-zealous outspoken actions.
At the same time, this little thing has allowed me to rediscover the elation of fatherhood again. It is the feeling that I am sure many have experienced. Up until now, I almost feel that I was so busy with keeping my head and body busy that I had not been capable of feeling it. I had tried, but it is like forcing fun on someone, all it does is turn ugly and someone ends up crying and running home.
The simplest metaphor I can immediately conjure up is this:
You love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Every day you can't wait to taste one or two or more. Then, eventually, your taste buds no longer appreciate the sweet and stickiness the sandwich has to offer. So you gradually stop eating them, or even cut cold turkey. As time goes by, you begin to feel empty inside and can't seem to find the reason why. You try quesadillas, fruit and other lunch-time substitutes until someone offers you a PB and J, and you remember the wonderful relationship. At first bite, you can't believe you ever stopped devouring these things because they are the most fantastic pleasures you could ever fathom.
"You don't know what you got until it's gone" said someone, somewhere, sometime ago.
Right now, to me, that is the biggest fault of human beings. However, I don't know if it is something and we can truly understand or even control. I believe this is the reason why self-help, self-esteem boosting, spiritually uplifting forwarded e-mails are such an ongoing cycle. It may not pertain to your attitude today or the next, but eventually it will and you will want to share it with others. The volleying of positive words keeps the cycle rolling. But like the wheels in a watch, some roll around slower than others, but all come full circle at their own pace.
Today, my counter has reset.
11.29.2003
Rams Fans Are Drunks
For kicks I decided to go to the Arizona Cardinal's game last weekend. They played the St. Louis Rams and actually gave them a run for their money. In classic form, it appeared that there were more Lambs fans there than the home team. I sat next to Kid Rock, who, as you can tell is a Ram's fan. He came prepared for a typical autumn outdoor football game. I reminded him that we were in Phoenix. By the way, he really does drink a lot, just about as much as all of the other trailer park St. Louis Sweethearts.
For kicks I decided to go to the Arizona Cardinal's game last weekend. They played the St. Louis Rams and actually gave them a run for their money. In classic form, it appeared that there were more Lambs fans there than the home team. I sat next to Kid Rock, who, as you can tell is a Ram's fan. He came prepared for a typical autumn outdoor football game. I reminded him that we were in Phoenix. By the way, he really does drink a lot, just about as much as all of the other trailer park St. Louis Sweethearts.
11.28.2003
HE - MAN - GEE - O - MA
Hemangioma according to drgreene.com are:
"tufts of extra blood vessels that commonly occur in children.... A capillary hemangioma is a bright red birthmark that can sometimes be the most noticeable feature of a little baby. Hemangiomas often don't appear until a baby is a month old, and can continue to grow throughout infancy. Some are cute; some are large and unsightly. Thankfully, most will disappear on their own within about 2 years.... Whether hemangiomas are treated or not, babies deserve to have parents and others look at them with wonder and delight."
Here is what hemangiomas are to me:
A slight discoloring at birth on Ellie's left arm, that after the first few weeks had reddened and become more predominant. At birth, no one seemed bothered by the skin, so I didn't let it bother me. At about one month old, it had been worrying Abbie to the point to specifically bring it up to the pediatrician. She referred us to a local dermatologist that is also a pediatrician. I still did not think much of it, until Abbie called me in tears after meeting with the specialist. At this point hemangioma still had not been mentioned specifically. Instead the dermatologist gave us three possibilities; port wine stain, Klippel-Trenauncy Syndrome, or Parkes Weber Syndrome. Two of the three options were scary to the point of panicking. The least detrimental was the port wine stain, which is simply a permanent birthmark. It is the blood red birthmark that Boris Yeltsin has on his forehead. The local specialist told Abbie to "wait and keep an eye on it" which was not what any of us wanted to hear.
Last Monday we went to Phoenix Children's Hospital and met with an expert doctor who gave us this deadly sounding word, hemangioma. Basically, he said that it is nothing at all like the previous horrific possible diagnosis'. Instead, it is a tuft of extra blood vessels, that will go away in time. We have the option of laser surgery, but are not pressed to have to make an immediate decision, and will not until after the holidays.
Ellie is fine otherwise. And now, so are we.
Now, the word reminds me of a "Little Rascals" episode where Spanky and the gang decide to make a new, all boys club called, "The He-Man, Woman Hater's Club".
Hemangioma according to drgreene.com are:
"tufts of extra blood vessels that commonly occur in children.... A capillary hemangioma is a bright red birthmark that can sometimes be the most noticeable feature of a little baby. Hemangiomas often don't appear until a baby is a month old, and can continue to grow throughout infancy. Some are cute; some are large and unsightly. Thankfully, most will disappear on their own within about 2 years.... Whether hemangiomas are treated or not, babies deserve to have parents and others look at them with wonder and delight."
Here is what hemangiomas are to me:
A slight discoloring at birth on Ellie's left arm, that after the first few weeks had reddened and become more predominant. At birth, no one seemed bothered by the skin, so I didn't let it bother me. At about one month old, it had been worrying Abbie to the point to specifically bring it up to the pediatrician. She referred us to a local dermatologist that is also a pediatrician. I still did not think much of it, until Abbie called me in tears after meeting with the specialist. At this point hemangioma still had not been mentioned specifically. Instead the dermatologist gave us three possibilities; port wine stain, Klippel-Trenauncy Syndrome, or Parkes Weber Syndrome. Two of the three options were scary to the point of panicking. The least detrimental was the port wine stain, which is simply a permanent birthmark. It is the blood red birthmark that Boris Yeltsin has on his forehead. The local specialist told Abbie to "wait and keep an eye on it" which was not what any of us wanted to hear.
Last Monday we went to Phoenix Children's Hospital and met with an expert doctor who gave us this deadly sounding word, hemangioma. Basically, he said that it is nothing at all like the previous horrific possible diagnosis'. Instead, it is a tuft of extra blood vessels, that will go away in time. We have the option of laser surgery, but are not pressed to have to make an immediate decision, and will not until after the holidays.
Ellie is fine otherwise. And now, so are we.
Now, the word reminds me of a "Little Rascals" episode where Spanky and the gang decide to make a new, all boys club called, "The He-Man, Woman Hater's Club".
11.18.2003
Family Life
We sit calmly in our living room. The whole family except Ellie is at complete peace. She is just a bit fidgety, maybe it is a burp-bubble. She cries lightly telling me that I need to hold her another way or move more.
Ellie's eyes widen and curiosity showers her pudgy face as Emma begins to sing her newest rendition of "What I Think Should be Sung Loudest". It is a little ditty she has been perfecting for sometime now. It consists of stories, most often misunderstood to the untrained ear. It usually concerns her little sister and her love for her family and friends. It would be a sweet award-winning video if it wasn't always presented at the most inopportune time.
Her need to harmonize seems to be inspired most when Ellie begins to fuss. Of course, this happens a lot more than when Emma was a baby, however Emma refuses to start her program unless Ellie kick's off the first few notes. Then, like a locomotive pulling from the depot, Emma slowly grinds her tune into gear, persistently chugging to a louder and stronger pace until she is running at full tempo. The scenery whizzes by her as she tears through the house while the words dance through her lips.
Ellie's brow frowns. The noise that is intended to be sweet and melodic begins to reflect the sound of scraping metal on asphalt. It is just loud enough to overpower the music on the radio, or the football game on the television. It is just powerful enough to disrupt any verbal communication that might of been occurring. It is becoming "noticed."
Ellie's mouth gapes and she blinks annoyance into her cherub cheeks as this Zappa-esque jam promptly increases in volume. She squeaks her little "warning" squeak. Abbie and I have quickly recognized this as fast approaching trouble. We hear the squeaks. They are ignored by the roaring big sister, who by this time is belting the words at full force, fists clenched, eyes closed, chin raised.
Ellie's eyes tighten shut, her jaw drops open, and I hasten the patting on her back attempting to distract the irritant but with no success.
WWWWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!
Mariah Carey would be proud of the octaves my one-month-old can deliver.
Then the phone rings, there is a knock on the door and the dog begins to bark at shadows in the kitchen. Yes, hell has officially broken loose, and it is only 8:43 A.M.
At least we got the first one of the day out of the way.
We sit calmly in our living room. The whole family except Ellie is at complete peace. She is just a bit fidgety, maybe it is a burp-bubble. She cries lightly telling me that I need to hold her another way or move more.
Ellie's eyes widen and curiosity showers her pudgy face as Emma begins to sing her newest rendition of "What I Think Should be Sung Loudest". It is a little ditty she has been perfecting for sometime now. It consists of stories, most often misunderstood to the untrained ear. It usually concerns her little sister and her love for her family and friends. It would be a sweet award-winning video if it wasn't always presented at the most inopportune time.
Her need to harmonize seems to be inspired most when Ellie begins to fuss. Of course, this happens a lot more than when Emma was a baby, however Emma refuses to start her program unless Ellie kick's off the first few notes. Then, like a locomotive pulling from the depot, Emma slowly grinds her tune into gear, persistently chugging to a louder and stronger pace until she is running at full tempo. The scenery whizzes by her as she tears through the house while the words dance through her lips.
Ellie's brow frowns. The noise that is intended to be sweet and melodic begins to reflect the sound of scraping metal on asphalt. It is just loud enough to overpower the music on the radio, or the football game on the television. It is just powerful enough to disrupt any verbal communication that might of been occurring. It is becoming "noticed."
Ellie's mouth gapes and she blinks annoyance into her cherub cheeks as this Zappa-esque jam promptly increases in volume. She squeaks her little "warning" squeak. Abbie and I have quickly recognized this as fast approaching trouble. We hear the squeaks. They are ignored by the roaring big sister, who by this time is belting the words at full force, fists clenched, eyes closed, chin raised.
Ellie's eyes tighten shut, her jaw drops open, and I hasten the patting on her back attempting to distract the irritant but with no success.
WWWWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!
Mariah Carey would be proud of the octaves my one-month-old can deliver.
Then the phone rings, there is a knock on the door and the dog begins to bark at shadows in the kitchen. Yes, hell has officially broken loose, and it is only 8:43 A.M.
At least we got the first one of the day out of the way.
11.10.2003
News from Colorado to Share
Written the morning of November 8, 2003:
Ellie Rae Grace Weien is one month old today!(November 8th) WOW! Really doesn't seem like that precious little girl can be that OLD! Ellie is doing well. Emma is adjusting to her new role as Big Sister and will probably enjoy Ellie much more when she can do more things...like dress up like a Princess!!
Jake and Abbie are busy being very caring parents. Fortunately, Abbie doesn't have to return to teaching until the Christmas break is over, so she will be home for a couple more months. I'm sure the next two will fly bye as quickly as this first one has.
The cycle of life is so interesting as I reflect on Ellie's one month birthday and the fact that tomorrow, November 9th, marks the one year anniversary of My Dear Mother, Mildred's death. That doesn't seem possible either, although, this has been one very busy year. Truly a year of many transitions physically, mentally, and emotionally. Approaching the Thanksgiving Day Holiday, which is the gateway to the Christmas Season, reflection seems to be very appropriate for me. Along with the sad times and frustrating times, the times of thanksfulness certainly out number all of the others. This year has given us many blessing as does each day give us many blessings. We have all been touched by all of you with your out pour of love and prayers especially for Zach but for all of us!
My wish for all of you is to start each day with just 5 or 10 things that you are thankful for....great way to start the day...all of us can list many more but sometimes we don't feel like we have that much time in the beginning of our day. Tell each of those family members that you see first thing in the morning how much you love them, hug them, enjoy their presence....for some morning they will not be physically there to hug...and then you can remember all of the wonderful hugs you did share.
The Colorado Weien Crew is getting ready for our move back to the Big City...Colorado Springs to Zach and Kristi's home. Kristi has the nursery painted. Kristi has also been painting Caleb's crib and only has one more piece to complete. Since the days are colder now, the crib painting project has moved from the garage to the livingroom and Zach is really enjoying watching Kristi work her artistic magic. It will really be cute. It is all white with the spool rings painted in primary colors...very bright and cheerful. The nursery is done in primary colors with the walls of yellow and green and a border of jungle frogs. Kristi's Mom, Debbie, went home to Texas with her sewing project of jungle frog fabric for the crib skirt, bumper pads, etc.
We have all been working on projects at the house so things will be in order when we move Zach in and when Caleb arrives. Last week we accomplished all of the upstairs carpets being cleaned, as well as all of the carpeting from the basement being torn out. We will be getting everything back in place now that the carpet is dry. We are also making a few changes in the kitchen, moving the refrigerator and a few shelves, nothing major.
Our targeted move date is Monday, November 17th. We had hoped to stay with the same Hospice group but they are having some challenges with being short of staff and will have to refer us to Pikes Peak Hospice in the Springs. We will really miss all of the wonderful people who have helped us so very much since August 12th. But I am sure that there will be another group of fabulous individuals who will give us tremenduous assistance in caring for Zach through this new agency. We will be getting the final information early next week and will know for sure if our targeted date will work for the transition as well as all of Zach's hospital equipment to be delivered, etc.
Just a reminder for those of you who might have misplaced Zach and Kristi's address and phone number:
6872 Sullivan Avenue
Colorado Springs, CO 80911
home phone 719-392-1181
Ron's cell phone 719-648-9049
Maggie's cell phone 719-649-8848
Our email will should remain the same although there might be a few days that we are not all set back up...so be patient...we will return to this wonderful electronic messaging system.
Hoping this update finds all of you healthy and happy. For those of you who might be wondering, of course, Maggie is the author of this message...but sending Hugs from Ron, Kristi, and Zach, also.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING 2003!
Written the morning of November 8, 2003:
Ellie Rae Grace Weien is one month old today!(November 8th) WOW! Really doesn't seem like that precious little girl can be that OLD! Ellie is doing well. Emma is adjusting to her new role as Big Sister and will probably enjoy Ellie much more when she can do more things...like dress up like a Princess!!
Jake and Abbie are busy being very caring parents. Fortunately, Abbie doesn't have to return to teaching until the Christmas break is over, so she will be home for a couple more months. I'm sure the next two will fly bye as quickly as this first one has.
The cycle of life is so interesting as I reflect on Ellie's one month birthday and the fact that tomorrow, November 9th, marks the one year anniversary of My Dear Mother, Mildred's death. That doesn't seem possible either, although, this has been one very busy year. Truly a year of many transitions physically, mentally, and emotionally. Approaching the Thanksgiving Day Holiday, which is the gateway to the Christmas Season, reflection seems to be very appropriate for me. Along with the sad times and frustrating times, the times of thanksfulness certainly out number all of the others. This year has given us many blessing as does each day give us many blessings. We have all been touched by all of you with your out pour of love and prayers especially for Zach but for all of us!
My wish for all of you is to start each day with just 5 or 10 things that you are thankful for....great way to start the day...all of us can list many more but sometimes we don't feel like we have that much time in the beginning of our day. Tell each of those family members that you see first thing in the morning how much you love them, hug them, enjoy their presence....for some morning they will not be physically there to hug...and then you can remember all of the wonderful hugs you did share.
The Colorado Weien Crew is getting ready for our move back to the Big City...Colorado Springs to Zach and Kristi's home. Kristi has the nursery painted. Kristi has also been painting Caleb's crib and only has one more piece to complete. Since the days are colder now, the crib painting project has moved from the garage to the livingroom and Zach is really enjoying watching Kristi work her artistic magic. It will really be cute. It is all white with the spool rings painted in primary colors...very bright and cheerful. The nursery is done in primary colors with the walls of yellow and green and a border of jungle frogs. Kristi's Mom, Debbie, went home to Texas with her sewing project of jungle frog fabric for the crib skirt, bumper pads, etc.
We have all been working on projects at the house so things will be in order when we move Zach in and when Caleb arrives. Last week we accomplished all of the upstairs carpets being cleaned, as well as all of the carpeting from the basement being torn out. We will be getting everything back in place now that the carpet is dry. We are also making a few changes in the kitchen, moving the refrigerator and a few shelves, nothing major.
Our targeted move date is Monday, November 17th. We had hoped to stay with the same Hospice group but they are having some challenges with being short of staff and will have to refer us to Pikes Peak Hospice in the Springs. We will really miss all of the wonderful people who have helped us so very much since August 12th. But I am sure that there will be another group of fabulous individuals who will give us tremenduous assistance in caring for Zach through this new agency. We will be getting the final information early next week and will know for sure if our targeted date will work for the transition as well as all of Zach's hospital equipment to be delivered, etc.
Just a reminder for those of you who might have misplaced Zach and Kristi's address and phone number:
6872 Sullivan Avenue
Colorado Springs, CO 80911
home phone 719-392-1181
Ron's cell phone 719-648-9049
Maggie's cell phone 719-649-8848
Our email will should remain the same although there might be a few days that we are not all set back up...so be patient...we will return to this wonderful electronic messaging system.
Hoping this update finds all of you healthy and happy. For those of you who might be wondering, of course, Maggie is the author of this message...but sending Hugs from Ron, Kristi, and Zach, also.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING 2003!
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