Adventures at Chez Cannady

On Friday J.T. spent the night with Ma Ma and Pa Pa (Rob's parents) and his wiggly, wobbly, hanging-by-a-thread tooth fell out. He lost it. Rob's mother wrote a note for the tooth fairy explaining the situation and asking that she be very, very generous. Then she vacuumed with her Rainbow, strained the contents of the water bowl and located the lost tooth. She is more dedicated than I to the cause of the lost tooth. I told him the tooth fairy would know where to find a lost tooth even if we didn't have it. Is it me or is parenting about 75 percent lying? She was indeed generous and left the boy $5 (beats the 25 cents I always got).

Last night Abby said: "If I have to tell you one more time...." I said: "What? What happens if you tell us one more time?" Abby: "Don't say that bad word." Me: "What bad word?" Abby: "Happen."

And then she gets into our bed, settles between us and says: "You're sqooshing me!" Wouldn't that be a good reason to get in your bed darling? Of course not! And I end up with a face full of 3 year old foot by the time she does doze off.

A few days before, she was walking, er, tottering down the hall, pants around her ankles yelling: "I can't take it anymore. I just. can't. take it anymore!"

Sick and Tired

I very much don't want my blog to become overtaken by cancer. This space is my little respite from trials and craziness. And I want it to remain that way. But this week has just been absolutely dominated by this illness.

Mother has had to endure three separate days of shots to boost her white blood cell count. Since white blood cells are generated in the bones, her bones have ached quite badly. She was given a prescription strength pain killer to which she had a very bad reaction. She did not eat and drank very little for 36 hours. Her hair has almost all come out and she is left with just little wisps of gray. She looks tired. Her spirit is flagging a little. All before her second dose of chemo today.

I wish, wish, wish I could snap my fingers and make her better. I wish she did not have to suffer. But if wishing could make things happen then you would already be a mother, your chest would have fixed itself on its own, depression would not have impacted your life, your child would still be here dancing and singing and loving. But that doesn't stop me from wishing and hoping and waiting.

I love you

Even when your breath smells bad and your nose is runny.
Or your hair looks funny.
I love you even when you’re mad, sad or bad.
I love you when you’re sleepy
I love you when you’re dirty.
I love you when you’re smelly.
I love you when you’re grumpy.
I love you with your front tooth.
I love you without your front tooth.
I loved you when you were small and now that you’re tall.
I love you no matter what.

This is our bedtime nonsense tale. J.T. and I. It doesn’t always rhyme and it is certainly quite silly. But we like it. And it always ends with a big smacky kiss.

funny DUI

Just one more reason not to drink and drive. If you're cuffed, you cannot scratch your, er, itchy bits. Tracey, I hope Pip can see this one. And that it doesn't still hurt to laugh!

A Sock Tale

The laundry is never truly finished. It is one of those jobs you can never say is completed. It's not just because someone always adds a towel or a shirt to the hamper just as I've put away the last washcloth. No. The true culprit is the sock.

I'm sure you're familiar with the villain of whom I speak. The lone sock that loses its mate somewhere between foot and clean laundry pile. I have a little stack of them. Tennis socks, argyle socks, lacy socks, a navy blue one. All without a partner. Where is that other sock? What happens to the second half of the pair? It isn't under the bed or behind the couch. I've looked. It isn't squished between the washer and dryer. I've looked there too.

I'm sure the lone socks would like to find their mates. If not, they will soon be paired with Pledge lemon oil furniture polish. Destined to never grace the respective feet of their owners ever again. Instead they face a fate of dust and dirt. Grime and muck. Poor socks. Oh you hidden socks. I give up! Come out, come out wherever you are! And bring my missing earring with you please.

Love Will Keep Us Together

Confession time. I have this song on my ipod. Come on! You know you've got a little cheese on yours too. I wanna hear all your little dirty musical secrets. What songs do you have that others might find a little odd. Just so you know. I'm singing and doing a little "Stop, cause I really love you" hand motion right now. There's a little shoulder bounce and foot tapping too. I know I'm not the only one. Some of you know all the words to Escape and Love Hurts. Please... say I'm not the only one.

Sing-a-long

Sing-a-long with Abby presents these popular songs (with slightly altered lyrics)

The ABC Song. Known hereafter as the QRS song.

"Q - R - S.... A, - L - M - N - O - P" Repeat 25 times.

(She does actually know the right way to sing it. She chooses not to.)

We also feature Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Also known as the Could You, Were You song.

"Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, How I Could You, Were You, Where you, Could you." Sung quite loudly and followed by a chorus of the QRS song. Make that several choruses of the QRS song.

She might get it from me. I'm a sing-a-long gal. If you were to pass me as I'm driving to or from work you would see me belting out whatever is on the cd player, ipod or radio. Complete with head and hand motions if at a traffic light. I do it in the grocery store too and I'm not the only one.

I'm a kitchen dancer too. You will find me loading/unloading the dishwasher, wiping down the table, etc while singing and swinging the hips a bit.

Think of the potential embarrassment I can heap on my kids during the teenage years!

Girl Things

Jennifer has a new song on her blog that I loved so much I downloaded it on my iPod. But it apparently is more of a girl song than a guy song. Rob was riding with me when the song came on. He listened for a minute and said: "What is that?"

"Dr. Munroe," I told him.

He listened another minute and then came the lyric: "He got curious and tried on Helen's clothes."

"Why are we listening to a song about a transvestite?" he asked.

I think he'd rather listen to Metallica.

Refresh

My blog obviously has a new look. I may have mentioned that I get easily bored? So I've made a change. Fresh, clean look for a fresh new year!

But all this white surely needs a little dirt. I'm not sure if these eyes are as used to clean as they were pre-children in the house. Since everything I clean only stays that way for what seems like moments I present a previously posted picture of the Mudhole Gang.

Note the little graffiti artist hard at work on a masterpiece: Chalk on Brick.

Kindnesses

If ever there were a benefit to living in a small community, support is one of them. And a short commute. Unless you get behind a tractor or a cotton truck.

We have been absolutely overwhelmed with offers of meals, rides to appointments, cards filled with well wishes and small gifts for mother. I spent the day with her yesterday, first day post-chemo. And I did a lot of phone answering from people wanting to check in to see how Mama was. While she wasn't up for conversation, it really perked her up to receive so many messages of concern and care. I'm actually going to have to coordinate a meal schedule so that we don't end up with tons of food all at once! Which is a nice problem to have, isn't it?

For those of you wondering, she is doing really well so far. The expected nausea and weakness, but not too much actual getting sick. We played sudoku, word puzzles and read. We got out the scrapbooking packet she received for Christmas and oohed and ahhhhed over the tags, letters and pages inside. Which led to getting out boxes of pictures and going over ideas for designs (all simple, of course).

The first project she wants to start is doing scrapbooks for all 4 of John's children. She has saved baby photos, some really terrible school pictures, band and sport programs, diplomas, school work etc. We have decided that his daughters might actually like to help make their own scrapbooks and include special memories they have of their dad. I think they will enjoy that and it will be bittersweet for Mom.

One of the most heartbreaking things I have ever had to endure is watching my mother, in her pink pajamas and pink socks, looking a little weary, trace her finger gently over a baby picture of my brother, smiling in his hand-made little outfit. She was very quiet and then she said: "I miss him."

Birthdays

Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you!
You look like a monkey, and you smell like one to!

Yesterday was indeed my birthday! I am closer to thirty than forty still. Rob gave me a lovely bouquet of roses AND took me out for a meal, sans children. I also received some Bath and Bodyworks gifts from Angel and itunes cards from Rob and the kids. My mother will have us for dinner and a cheesecake tomorrow. Tonight I just want to soak in my bubble bath with a glass of wine and savor another year of my life and that of my sweet J.T.

J.T. was born just 6 days after my birthday and will turn 7 this week. It actually snowed the day I went into labor with him.... a once in a decade happening for us. My water broke at the supermarket and Rob drove us (BELOW the speed limit "Won't do us any good to speed if we have a wreck) to the hospital where we waited 25 1/2 hours to meet J.T. He was, of course, the most beautiful hairless, wrinkled bit of humanity we had ever seen.



He has been delighting, inspiring, and exhausting us ever since. He walked early, never engaged in baby talk, and could speak multi-syllable words at 10 months. If you speak to him on the phone, you'd never know you were speaking to a child. He is empathetic, sometimes dramatic, logical and good at math. He hates reading (very surprising since Rob and I both LOVE to read), guessing games, and change. He gets upset if goes to school with bed head hair and wants to change immediately when his clothes get dirty. He has had close to 2 dozen ear infections and has to wear ear plugs when he swims. He says please and thank you and ma'am and sir (necessities for a child in the south) and is usually very well-behaved. We had his party today complete with a hayride (a country tradition) SpongeBob pinata and one injured child.



While it would make a great story if the medical crises had occured during the pinata festivities, he was not injured in a mad dash to beat the snot out of Mr. Squarepants. He was attempting to skateboard on a rolling cart and smacked his head on the concrete. Don't worry. He had an icepack and lives just up the hill, so was returned safely home. I will call momentarily to be sure he is indeed feeling okay.



Birthday party injuries are a tradition in my family. On the occasion of my 7th Birthday, one of my little friends was bitten by a neighbor's dog and required stitches. She returned to the party, stitched and bandaged, in time for cake and ice cream.

So we had a lovely weekend of birthday celebrations replete with loads of good food and good friends. The kids left with dizzying amounts of candy, already loaded up with cake, icecream and cheese puffs. A great time was had by all. Well. All but the one who went home with a big goose egg on his forehead.

More Whyning

Why is it no surprise visitors ever pop in when the house is immaculate? Only when I haven't made the beds, dishes are piled high in the sink and someone has spilled and stepped on 100 little crackers, do we have surprise visitors?

Why can't we appreciate our youth when we are young? I spent my childhood longing to be a grown-up and now I wish I could take a trip back to those days of lazing about with a good book and a stash of sugary treats.

Why are cheeseburgers more appealing than salads?

Why does the thought of excercising sound so appealing at 8 p.m. and so unappealing at 6 a.m.?

Why is my nose always cold?

Why, in spite of the fact that they are DRIVING EACH OTHER CRAZY (and me, too), can't my children stay away from each other?

Why does someone always get sick during vacation? And then the rest of us fall victim like dominoes.

Why do we never seem to have tape or glue.... even though I KNOW I just bought some?

Why does the long lost juice cup found 2 weeks later always have milk in it... never juice, or water or anything remotely less smelly than sour milk?

Why, when I see those lovely young ladies showing off their (ahem) assets on t.v. do I always think: Yeah.... give it 10 years and a couple of pregnancies... then I want to see you on t.v. showing off your assets. Of course, I'm not jealous or anything.

Why, after almost 10 years of marriage, can Rob still make me laugh?
Yesterday's conversation: "Those are my new pens. You are not to touch them under any circumstances whatsover. None. I love you." Do you think he thinks I'll lose them?