Crowds

I was born into a crowd. My Mom was one of four and my Dad was one of five. Whether it was a Hollon or Cook family gathering we had a crowd. When I was five my parents built an apartment on our house so my Mom's dad could live with us. He shared meals with us but he could get away from our crowd when mealtime was over. After he died Mom and Dad agreed to house my Uncle Paul and his best friend to live with us. Both being single, I'm sure sharing activity around the table and other things only increased their need to find the perfect one! It was a common practice for Daddy to call Mom and declare he would like to bring Mr. Brady for dinner. Mr Brady was his general manager with Chevrolet! Even though she panicked a lot, she could stretch a meal like it was her plan all along! The next decision I made just increased my crowd when I agreed to marry Jeff, who was one of three. Again, his Mom was one of six and his Dad was one of three. Maybe that was why Jeff and I lived away the first few years of marriage! Not really...we were interested in creating our own crowd which in turn would create more crowd breeders! Yesterday, which was thanksgiving, we had twenty nine people at our house! We still had ten short of the usual crowd! It was a great day. Besides priding ourselves as some of the best cooks around, we even brag about our ability to present our menu colors and textures that only enhance the palate for the dining experience! Truthfully my side of the family is the same way. Dressing is such an important dish and for the family member that is the designated dressing maker, the pressure mounts. My eighty two year old Mother and mamaw twila, eighty six, are the chefs on the Cook side and Chandler side, respectively. Pressure mounts for holding this status, as most dressing makers don't even know the exact measurements of the ingredients. They know what tastes they prefer like too much sage, or too dry, or not too gummy. Many have tried to put pen to paper to ensure they can imitate the recipe to assure they can create the same flavor and texture when it falls on the next person to take over the job. Now back to the crowd part! It is common to include others to our already crowded event. One year we invited Rebekah's third grade teacher! For a few years, we had several couples that were in med school who for numerous reasons couldn't leave Little Rock. What's a few more people, right?
One of my favorites was a Christmas get together at Mammaw Ouida's and Papaw Winston's house at Christmas eve. Dr. Stephen Tucker was thrown into the mix. I was a purist when it came to sneaking food bites in baby Rebekah's mouth. That night I allowed an exception. Dr. Steve sat Rebekah by the punch bowl and he commenced to dip her pacifier in the treasured recipe of egg nog punch! Yes she immediately began to kick her little feet with white ballet slippers that buckled around her ankles. She was wearing the first smocked dress I made her with all white smocking on white batiste except for one green vinelike row with red french knots that looked like holly berries. We still have a photo to remind us of her first taste of sugar!! Our philosophy is why leave others out of the mix when we have so much to share?
A colleague of mine from California noticed a term I frequently used to describe my family or friends. The phrase is "my bunch." He was literally a standup comedian and as we got to know each other during the two weeks of training, he incorporated that phrase often. I am so thankful for my bunch! I encourage all of you to do the same!

Just a thought...Four

This is an" Oh, woe is me" pity party post. Don't expect to hear some explanation or how I can twist this around to make everyone feel good. It isn't gonna happen. This morning I thought it would be nice to wear a skirt to church. I have always been a skirt girl. Besides, jeans are becoming hard to put on. I thought in a skirt I might have the slightest feeling of being normal. NOTHING, absolutely NOTHING, positively NOTHING could have been further from the truth. NOTHING is right about me. NOTHING. NOTHING I tell you. You might dare to differ that my mind is fine. But I cannot begin to say with words how much I battle to get typed out all I want to say. This frustration does not stem from my blog title, More to Say. Every thought has application in my mind. Nothing is void of memories which leads me to another post to write and yet there is no time and energy to get it all done. Even now eyes are struggling from dryness as I try to finish typing. Please don't think I am wanting a certain response from you. You can't explain this away with flowery words or scripture. I actually want no response. NOTHING. Just a thought...

Don't Park There!

Being a person with strong convictions has caused me to have to position myself on what we kindly refer to as a soapbox. I admit I have had many topics to warrant my thoughts. Mostly for the past twelve years I committed myself to change the world's view of a person whose pancrease had ceased working correctly. Of course you know I am speaking of a person who has diabetes. When Anna Grace was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, I picked up quickly on the phrase, "Oh, she is a diabetic." I didn't think she was a diabetic, but rather a person who HAS diabetes. Jeff quickly told me to give it up but if I am anything, I am not a quitter--especially when it is about my child!

Now my family has a new soapbox. We seem to be united toward this effort. You see it every day whenever you're in your car, when you are in line for the next available parking space. You may have guessed it. I hope you're not guilty...I am referring to the always treasured handicapped parking spaces. I am amazed at how few handicapped spaces are provided at normal restaurants and stores. The exceptions would be Target, hospitals and doctor's offices. But for sure there is always someone needing that handicapped space you are pulling into now! Go ahead and fess up...you know I am stepping on all your toes!!

One day, Abby and I were eating lunch at Chilis. We were seated in clear view of the lone handicapped space. And yes, it was adorned with the familiar blue handicapped sign. At this point, it became the game surrounding our outing. We had fun watching for who would be getting in that ever cool Mercedes Benz that was parked in THAT spot, and driving off. Finally, the moment arrived and we watched intently as a couple approached the car. Not to our surprise, we didn't see even the slightest limp. I thought I would have to hold Abby back, as if I could!!

I'm not sure why this always seems to happen with Abby, but I have to add this event. She and I were going to our favorite place to get pedicures. Nail Paradise offers great services and we have grown attached to the technicians there. I met them before I had ALS. Jennifer would work her magic on my feet that constantly were in heels or running shoes! She would put my pain tolerance to the test at each visit. I told Jennifer if anyone ever tried to snatch her purse she could put them down with her thumb alone! The entire staff goes way beyond the call of duty and always responds to whatever challenges I present to position me in the spa chair safely. Back to the story...there were no handicapped places available this particular day, because there was this massive truck parked in the only handicapped spot that had enough space to accomodate the ramp that allows me to exit the van. At this point Abby was warming up the familiar comments that lead to a full-fledged speech of anger! The truck had no sticker denoting proper clearance to claim this spot. We parked at the end of the row to allow enough room to get me out. All the while Abby is muttering sentences of the accusing type. When we got me positioned Abby went to choose her color. Meanwhile I am beginning to sit back to let the whole process take place. All of a sudden I realized Abby wasn't back and wasn't in view... then I saw her, not in front of the polish rack but outside taking pictures of the truck's license plate! She confessed to wanting to track the owner down but settled for calling to report him, hoping to cause him to have to pay a fine. So I end this saga with words from Jesus..."Go forth and sin no more!"

Woo Pig Sooiee !

September 24, 2011

It's finally here! The subject that is never totally off the radar screen in our family...college football. It's the favored sport, and if you were present at any family event, you can expect to hear a number indicating how many days til the beginning of next seasons starting date! The topic isn't limited to the males in the family, either. Rather, the females know their own opinion about teams, SEC rankings, returning key players, and evaluation of new uniforms. My Mom talks about the Dallas Cowboys like they are friends! Joseph contends that talking to his grandmother is like talking to a guy, especially with regard to the Cowboys. Food fare ranges from grilled burgers and hot dogs, to home made ice cream and brownies, and always includes cheese dip and chips. If the guys score early in the hunting season, including bow and arrow or muzzle loader, we might have smoked venison or shish- k-bobs which is a family favorite of my bunch, even Hudson and Hamilton.

The more the merrier applies here but only to true football fans. No browsing through magazines, couponing, or discussing a new recipe will be allowed! We gave Bethany a bye last fall since she was in the middle of making wedding decisions and finalizing her bridal registry. Even though she has started pharmacy school, I am certain this season will include many index cards with pertinent info she is committing to memory. She has such a disciplined behavior for taking care of business. If you read in earlier posts about parenting tips, I mentioned if my kids were having fun together and were loud as well, I didn't say a thing about the noise. I like the sounds of fun, no matter how loud! The same thing applies to football cheering. Both televisions are dedicated to the Game for moments that require pacing from room to room . Jeff and Joseph are the main pacers. Did I mention that it gets loud? Last season I could lead the crowd in the razorback cheer. This season that can't happen. I had Abby make keys on my eye-gaze screen that say "Go Hogs Go " and " Go Joe Go ". Joe Adams was a classmate of Anna Grace's in high school, and deserves his own cheer since he has been keen on running back punts!! I must mention that DJ Williams was a friend and team mate of Joseph's in high school also. We miss him of course, but catch him in his first season of NFL play! Familiar phrases than can be expected..."I'm worried about our running game"..."we can't make those type of mistakes"...and the favorite, "here's your ball game right here"! Since I'm finishing this post the morning of Gameday, I'm reminded of a Covidien colleague Caroline Fardel. If I listen hard, I think I can hear her yelling Roll Tide!! You go ahead Caroline, I think I hear a Woo Pig Sooiee louder!!!

Pillow Talk...8/21/2011

Let me set the stage for this post by providing a bit of telephone history. My freshman year of college was 1974. Cathcart dorm had one phone on each wing. Can you imagine the fight that took place for a few minutes of connecting with a male that hopefully was about to ask you out? I spent many hours between midnight and two o'clock in the morning on the floor cuddled up in my quilt to talk uninterrupted with Jeff ( at that late time I could ignore the sign reading, Please limit all calls to ten minutes!) Really? To talk to my parents I called "collect" and actually spoke with a living, breathing phone operator, who would ask my mom or dad if they would accept a collect call from me ! The first house Jeff and I owned in Little Rock, I purchased the longest cord possible that allowed me to walk in the kitchen or den as needed to check on the sounds that commonly accompany three kids. By the mid eighties cordless phones had arrived. This was extremely helpful chasing three kids between floors. This provided a whole new level of communication! I could unload a car full of groceries and put them away, change a diaper, and bathe a toddler , all while talking on the phone! I learned a pleasant way to get recipes ready for Thanksgiving or any holiday fare was to chat late into the evening with another night owl like myself...thanks, Charlotte!!

Obviously, you see where I am going...CELL PHONES, the technology that opened up a whole new way of life. Like with most things, Americans take everything to an obnoxious level. I mean really! I attended my daughter in law's white coat ceremony induction into the college of Pharmacy, and in the middle of complete pomp and circumstance I heard the all too familiar i- phone ring. Every Sunday we can hear the sound that is not part of the worship team! Why even take your phone unless you are a doctor on call? Even if you are prompted by the Holy Spirit with a life-changing revelation, I bet it is okay if you wait til another appointed time to post the new found thoughts on Facebook. I challenge everyone to do the right thing and practice the much needed discipline of separation during all situations where phones ringing is not acceptable. I realize this might throw some of you into separation anxiety but I fully believe you will find it liberating!

Another observation I have noticed is the condition that may be described as a "senior moment." Frequently women are categorized based on hormone levels being too low or too high! While I believe based on personal experience some crazy things take place in a female's body, I don't believe hormones is the reason. I contend it is the act of trying to process an unbelieveable amount of information at one time. Since I can no longer use the phone, I have observed the sheer panic at the scrambling into pockets or purses trying to intercept the call that might be earth-shattering! Jeff still hasn't grasped the concept of taking his phone into whatever room he is in. He may have started a new event in future Olympics-- Running Through an Obstacle Course Leading to Your Phone...maneuvering his way by the ringtone to the location of the MOBILE cell. Don't you find humor suggesting that one term used to denote the type of phone actually makes it difficult to find when you need it? I am constantly hearing "Will you dial my number so I can listen to find my phone?" To apply some great words of wisdom from the Apostle Paul, everything used in moderation is good. Thanks, Paul, I wonder what words you would have said to this "I need everything instantly" generation. If we refused to allow so much in at one time, maybe we wouldn't set ourselves up for so many brain freezes!!!

The Talk

The title of this post isn't about the CBS show on afternoon tv, but rather the dreaded time when you can't ignore that you must converse with your child about where babies come from. Don't act like you were looking forward to it because no one will believe you! And don't think because you survived the biology lesson you are through. Truthfully, that is the easy part. Phase two can be even more challenging but is extremely important follow through. With four children we experienced the child that pushed the discussion before we were ready, as well as the child that avoided the topic vehemently. I finally roped her into "the" discussion by using my method of planting flower seeds. Here's the spiel..."Flowers begin as seeds. We plant them in the soil and as the rain falls and the sun shines the seeds become a flower." It is a visual your child can wrap their brain around. Next I would transition to a baby. A baby starts as as a seed, too. The baby seed is planted in mommy's tummy in a very special way that was God's idea. I would then proceed with the biology lesson. As their eyes widen and they exclaim "Ooooohhh," refer back to "remember I said it's God's idea." If your child is young and this is the first time you have broached the subject, you may get away with the seed application. Because Anna Grace was older, she received the full lesson...even the part that produces the most disdain, that parents do the big nasty because they like it, not just to make a baby. One thing that stands out in my mind took place on the drive home from piano lessons. Anna Grace was seated in the back of the suburban. She was always content to read books on the numerous trips a mother of four makes getting each to school and activities everyday. As we turned on to our cul de sac, she rang out "sex, sex, sex. I want my middle name to be sex, and when I can drive, I want a purple car with a top that goes down...and sometimes when I drive, I want to hold a cigarette! " Rebekah and I were speechless! Younger parents often ask what age is appropriate. It is a good question with no specific answer. I conducted an experiment with Joseph in an attempt to know just where his interests were with regard to the opposite sex. We were shoe shopping and the young sales clerk had a tatoo on her chest and ankle. The chest art was visible only as she leaned forward to size the shoes he was trying on. As we drove home I asked if he had noticed her tatoo. His reply..."Oh, she had two, Mom." Joseph 's answer was our cue. It was time for the talk! Abby resisted much like Anna Grace, which was a surprise to me. I had approached her but made she made it clear she had no interest talking about "that." I said that was fine with me as long as she didn't discuss it at school. Her reply was, "Mom, I would never talk about THAT at school." I found that odd. School was where I learned everything! One of my friends in school seemed well informed on the subject and what she didn't know, her older sister did. I had two older sisters. Wonder why I didn't just ask them? Well, Abby didn't talk about it at school. But she did engage the subject at church! One Sunday Rebekah came running to me and whispered in my ear, "Mom, one of her friends just told Abby that sex is when your Mom and Dad put their private parts together!" I was thrilled. I had worried that Abby would be the one to initiate conversation first and we would be apologizing to someone's parents. Whew! Escaped that one! Believe me, when you have four children, you are thankful for every smooth issue! Rebekah was our only child that pushed the envelope in this category. At 8 she asked where babies came from but did buy my seed/flower explanation, for a while. Next my sweet Rebekah thought through our first discussion and presented the dreaded question, "Mom, I understand babies start as a seed but... (here it comes, the moment I knew would test my ability to hang tough in hard explanations or just do what felt safe, which was just lie!!)... how does it get IN there?" Well great, she had to go and bust up our party! We had ourselves a health lesson followed with "by the way, mommies and daddies do this because they like it, not just to make a baby!" There, I had done the evil deed! I dared to explain a very adult matter to a child. Not even a teenager, but a precious child. I must admit I felt pretty proud of my performance. I measured that primarily from what I felt at the end of the discussion (she didn't cry, yell or throw up!) followed by no more questions! That must mean she took it all in, right? WRONG! Months later when I displayed the lovely symptoms of morning sickness followed by afternoon sickness followed by evening sickness, I became suspicious! True to form these symptoms meant a fourth baby was in the oven! Surprised and then excited, we decided it best to wait until I was past the first trimester so the kids wouldn't have so long to wait for their new sibling. It was October which meant one thing, the Arkansas State Fair! We loved the fair with rides, funnel cakes, and the petting area (Especially the baby chicks sliding down into a tub of water!) The combination of movement from the rides and the aroma of fair food filling the air didn't create a pleasure filled Saturday afternoon for me. They expected me to accompany them on the rides like always, but I just couldn't bring myself to participate. They kept asking "what's wrong, Mom? C'mon, Mom." Sunday morning Jeff and I decided to share the news since I would probably have several more weeks of not feeling normal. Jeff called everyone to the kitchen, told our news, and we celebrated together as we said over and over we didn't know if it would be a boy or girl! We were all going our separate ways to finish getting dressed for church, except Rebekah. Remember when I said they don't recall all you told them or it did not register the way you meant? Rebekah approached Jeff with the question, "Dad, how long have you and Mom known she was pregnant?" "Three weeks " was his reply. Her comeback, "You mean you and Mom had sex three weeks ago and didn't tell us?" His second reply was, "You should go talk to your Mom." I remember like it was yesterday! She repeated her question and waited for me to explain. "When we talked, I explained how parents have sex because they like it. Remember it was God's idea." After hesitating she asked, "Well, how much do you do it?" After more hesitating I answered, "several times a week!" Her comeback--"I bet the Goad's don't do that!!!" (I considered replacing their name to protect their inocence but decided Starla and Phil would like the shout out!) Children are the most precious yet most challenging parts of life! Jeff and I continue to be pleased from our efforts to raise them to be as transparent as is appropriate to prepare them for the reality that life can bring their way. As I mentioned earlier in this post, the biological approach of preparing your children for sex is by far the easiest lesson. Jeff was diligent to question each child about their behavior with the opposite sex...very specifically I might add! This is one reason we allowed our children to date in high school. We wanted them to come home so we could teach them through disappointments and challenges dating provides as opposed to their roommate in college who might not have the best counsel. Remember, exchanging affection in front of your children is both normal and healthy. It is the beginning of what true love looks like. Don't be afraid of "the talk," rather prepare to embrace this hot topic!

Back in Business

Christmas 1996 Jeff insisted we should buy a computer for a family gift. I resisted because my tendency was to not give in to buying new things just because they were the latest and greatest. I remember having the same attitude about cordless phones until we moved into a tri-level house with three kids! Jeff encouraged me to explore the computer. First of all, I didn't have time, and secondly, wasn't it ok if there was one thing I couldn't do! HaHa ... I soon accepted a position with Noven Pharmaceuticals, and they placed a hand held computer in my hands. In other words, I was being forced into the technological world I had escaped until now. I adjusted and even enjoyed less paperwork. After six years, I decided it was time to work full time. In the last half of the 15 year run of college tuition we had with our four children, (and that didn't include two daughter's weddings in the first eight years, and Anna Grace's freshman year overlapped Joseph's senior year), I knew I had to step it up. The manager that interviewed me asked me what I considered my greatest weakness to be. I came clean and confessed "computer skills." But she hired me anyway, and my confession soon became a thorn in the flesh. Early on I got realigned to a different district and my new manager had a teaching background and he taught me a crash course in computers 101 and 102! I could cut, copy and paste with the best (not really with the best, but at least I didn't dread the idea of opening the once dreaded laptop with this e-mail driven company). After the five year mark with Covidien I found myself on FMLA since my speech had not improved but continued to digress, still with no diagnosis. Jeff came home one evening with a dry erase board and although thoughtful, it was not quite the answer for a verbose female. An Ipad was the next step, and quickly became my new best friend. My fingers flew all over the modified keyboard and I was able to reconnect with my family and friends. I could talk on the phone some, and text, yet not in normal Nancy style. Until November of 2010, I could write and answer e-mails that took the place of days of what had become normal by cramming the most I could in a 24 hour period. First I lost the use of my index fingers, but not to worry because I had full use of my third, fourth and pinky fingers and didn't experience any less ability to accomplish whatever I needed or wanted to write. I had started blogging while Jeff and I were on a trip to Colorado in August and had more ideas of things I wanted to write than I could get done. By Christmas I was limited to two fingers per hand and had to position myself to use them effectively. My last strategy was knuckle typing with my pinkies and the drawback became weakness in my shoulders to support this effort. I chuckle at the many ways I tried to prolong the use of my Ipad to communicate. In March I started a post that I didn't finish til the end of the month. I had to break up with my cool technology that got lots of attention from adults and children. Now I face the greatest challenge by far if I want to continue to communicate. With no ability to speak and no use of my hands, so sign language is a bust, I am left with the option of using my eyes gazing across a keyboard to type. I am thankful for the technology that created this communication device called Ecopoint. It has amazing capabilities that I have just begun to learn, but with only one rep servicing the entire state I have to wait my turn for tutorials with Jennifer. In fact this is my second attempt to complete this post. I "gazed" three hours only to accidentally erase my thoughts. I have no words to express my frustration. I vowed I was finished blogging, but being unable to use my Ipad effectively March through April, I composed so much in my mind and am determined to put pen to thoughts. Communication is sharing, and something I miss drastically. I have so many questions to ask and so many answers to give! (Like when did Pizza and wings become a combo? Pizza and salad, yes, wings and potato salad, slaw, or fries, sure. But pizza and wings? Not so much)! I am comforted by the fact that I have talked in great detail about that which I considered important, even to the degree that I became the brunt of jokes for talking too much! The benefit now is that Jeff, our kids, my family and friends know what and how I think so my input still is considered. I am reminded of a scene from the movie Mr. Holland's Opus. After learning their son couldn't hear, with clenched fists pounding the air and feet stomping the floor, Iris exclaims, "I want to talk to my son!!!" I completely share her sentiment. I want to talk to Jeff and my kids. I want to read stories to Hudson and Hamilton. I want to continue mothering in the fashion that requires more than a word or sentence here and there. Living with ALS doesn't always bring out the best in us. I think I will scream (if I could) if I hear "I don't know what you mean" one more time! And I know Jeff thinks "really, Nancy, you think I understand what your eyes or groans mean?" Some of those moments have led to tears, complete exasperation, and even a fist in the sheetrock to be completely honest. To add fair balance, living with ALS brings out the best in us as well. Somehow we get past what seems in the moment to be unbearable and move forward. Jeff and I have lived with the understanding that if we were going to be at fault, which of course we would be at times, then we preferred to over communicate rather than under communicate. I am so thankful we did! If you are waiting for the perfect opportunity to communicate love, instruction, forgiveness, excitement, or pleasure, what are you waiting for? Select what means of communication you prefer and get busy!!