When we were first married, Chris and I (okay Chris, Uncle Mike, Aunt Anne and I--giving credit where credit is due) "redid" an old house. We painted every room, stripped and rehung wall paper, and Chris refinished the hardwood floors. Now I know most people finish something like that and are energized and proud. Chris turned to me and said, "Never again. If we can't afford to have someone do it, it's not going to get done." And so every time we move we search out doctors, hair stylists, and a handyman. Ray is our Louisville handyman.
Several weeks ago we made a list and decided it was time to call Ray. I called and left a message; no answer. A few days later I called again and left a message; no return call. I called a third time and left a message. I couldn't understand why he wasn't calling us back. He liked us I thought. Of course that might have something to do with the fact that we double paid him since we didn't communicate on who would write the check--perhaps we should add a finance person and mediator or communication specialist to our list of people to find when we move. Anyway, he didn't call back and I decided that he was either dead (he's not young) and I was harassing a grieving family or he was going to have me arrested for stalking because he wasn't going to call back. (I clearly wasn't working on home improvement projects so I had plenty of time to let my mind create.) I was about to go on a search for a new handyman when surprise Ray called.
He was sorry he hadn't called back sooner, but his mother had died (I knew there had to be death somewhere in there) and he was named executor but he didn't know he was executor and then they had to clean out the house...15 minutes into the call I finally was able to break into the story and say, "Can you help us out?" "Oh yeah," he replied obviously reconnecting with the idea that I was his client not his therapist. "I'll be over sometime next week." I didn't press him for a specific time and date, when you're not handy you work your schedule around the handyman. Plus, I was a tad bit afraid he would give me a 20 minute detailed list of what he would be doing. If I think someone talks alot....well you know they do.
Ray finally came over to look at the projects. Sure I can do those he told me AFTER he retold me the story of his mother's death complete with how he and his five siblings divided up the furniture. I know exactly who got what and what they're doing with it, why they didn't choose other pieces and the house has been sold. He also told me about the kitchen redo he did for his wife. "Took me 8 years, but I got it done." He said, "I'll be back sometime next week." Again I wasn't going to press, on top of that, I was too busy praying these projects wouldn't take 8 years....
Thursday Ray showed up. I was working from home. I hadn't had a day off in awhile plus it was freaking cold and I had a roaring fire. (I burned 28 pieces of wood that day--another weirdness about me, I count the wood I burn. I definitely keep my therapist in business.) I was working on a sermon listening to Gregorian advent chant in the back ground. (It was in Latin) I was trying to concentrate and Ray was talking and talking and talking. (I know some of ya'll are so happy and just want to say,'Paybacks are hell') Finally there was a pause and glorious silence. And then Ray started singing!!!! Rather he started chanting, PERFECTLY AND IN LATIN!! He's scrapping my ceiling and chanting Gregorian chant. I really didn't want him to talk anymore but I had to ask, "Ray, are you chanting?" "Oh yeah," he responded, "I was in catholic seminary for 5 1/2 years but then I decided I'd rather drop out, become a painter and get married. Now that's a story!" I didn't get to hear that story--he had to go outside for the gutter project...I breathed a sigh of relief.
Four hours later Ray announced, "Well I'm about finished for today. I'll have to come back tomorrow to put another layer on the ceiling." he told me and then continued to explain how he'd learned all these trades. 37 minutes later he left. I was beginning to think he was moving in and I'd have to introduce the children to their new Uncle Ray. Further he charges us by the hour; I wonder if I'm getting charged for entertainment as well...
Friday Ray called to say he was on his way. I was heading home from the gym and told him I'd meet him there. I arrived and Ray was already in the house. "I went ahead and let the dogs out," Ray informed me as I walked into the house. "I can't remember where you keep the treats." (He really might be moving in....) We stood in the middle of the living room as he detailed what he had done after he left my (our) house yesterday. He pulled out his phone and began to show me pictures of his grandchildren--I tried to keep it straight--we might all become family. He put his phone away and as he continued to talk he began to undue his belt and unzip his pants. "WHOA!" I screamed turning my back to him. He began to laugh, "Did you think I was taking my pants off?" That's exactly what I thought and think. He kept laughing as he said, "I am but I have shorts on underneath.Remember I went to seminary." Seriously a warning would have been helpful PLUS you dropped out of seminary!!! He finished the second layer and called me back into the living room. Ray began to explain the next step as he started to redress. Even knowing what's going on, I have to say it's a bit unnerving to talk to a man in your living room who is pulling up his pants and tucking in his shirt.....
"I'll be back tomorrow to put another coat on," he told me, "I'm going home now to work on one of my computers. I had to replace the hard drive last night. I have seven computers. I built my first computer 2 years ago. If you aren't here, I'll just come on in." I remained silent. First I was amazed--this man also builds computers? A Gregorian chanting, story telling, handyman, computer guru. Only a Doyle handyman. Also, while it's wrong; I know it's wrong, so very wrong, but I silently gave thanks for the early morning board meeting followed by a funeral and two basketball games. He may meet his match, Caroline will be here...
22 November 2014
12 November 2014
Society Hell
Anyone with teenagers knows having a gourmet family dinner before 9 pm with the WHOLE family together is a very rare occasion, so I take what I can when I can. I love to cook and to set the table with themed china and linens, and I love having the whole family around the table without feeling rushed. Yesterday I didn't have to work so I got to do some of that. I prepared a semi elaborate salmon set the table with the leaf place mats and called the boys to dinner (at 7:30 I said I take what I can--SK is clearly not traveling from UVA for dinner and Caroline was at play practice.)
We sat down and began to eat and to have typical Doyle conversation (read conversation that borders on if not crosses over inappropriate and conversation that jumps faster than the Easter bunny)--Boss, "We stopped at the video store today so I could pick up William's new video game. I do that for him so much they don't even card me anymore. That's not the place I don't want to be carded." My head whipped around--Boss, "Wait it's not what you think." Before I could delve into that conversation, William, "Yeah there was this weird kid there...." Chris interrupted, "What a weird kid at a video store?" (Yes we do stereotype--but then our weird kids were there today too.) William, "Us weird kids call this time of year, Broketober because all the new games come out." Me, "Remember Christmas is coming up." William,, "Yeah that's why I need you to find me jobs or give me some money" Chris, "Boss can you pass me a piece of salmon?" Boss reached across William and picked up a piece of salmon WITH HIS HANDS!!!! "Boss!" I shrieked. "What? I was trying to be polite and not interrupt the flow of the conversation by asking William to pass the platter." He's so considerate. "You're killing me or at least aging me quickly." Boss, "Yeah, but I'll put you in a good home." "I'd like to go to Merrilee please." Boss, "That's not happening--that's too expensive." Chris, "At least you get to go to a home; he told me he's just putting me out." Boss, "Yeah, he'll figure something out--I'll make sure you have a place to live." I didn't know whether to add--thanks for taking care of me but not your father or to be amazed they had clearly had this conversation before--and both remembered it....
We sat down and began to eat and to have typical Doyle conversation (read conversation that borders on if not crosses over inappropriate and conversation that jumps faster than the Easter bunny)--Boss, "We stopped at the video store today so I could pick up William's new video game. I do that for him so much they don't even card me anymore. That's not the place I don't want to be carded." My head whipped around--Boss, "Wait it's not what you think." Before I could delve into that conversation, William, "Yeah there was this weird kid there...." Chris interrupted, "What a weird kid at a video store?" (Yes we do stereotype--but then our weird kids were there today too.) William, "Us weird kids call this time of year, Broketober because all the new games come out." Me, "Remember Christmas is coming up." William,, "Yeah that's why I need you to find me jobs or give me some money" Chris, "Boss can you pass me a piece of salmon?" Boss reached across William and picked up a piece of salmon WITH HIS HANDS!!!! "Boss!" I shrieked. "What? I was trying to be polite and not interrupt the flow of the conversation by asking William to pass the platter." He's so considerate. "You're killing me or at least aging me quickly." Boss, "Yeah, but I'll put you in a good home." "I'd like to go to Merrilee please." Boss, "That's not happening--that's too expensive." Chris, "At least you get to go to a home; he told me he's just putting me out." Boss, "Yeah, he'll figure something out--I'll make sure you have a place to live." I didn't know whether to add--thanks for taking care of me but not your father or to be amazed they had clearly had this conversation before--and both remembered it....
William got up and poured himself a glass of milk WITHOUT asking anyone else. Boss already had water, but Shawn had nothing--something I'm sure he would eventually be thankful for. As he sat back down he placed his glass to the left of his plate. Me, "Sweetheart, the glass goes on the right side." Boss, "This isn't the middle ages Mama. Don't move it William." Me, "I know it's not the middle ages, but it's just the proper way to set a table. Ya'll know that." "Well," he continued, "Mine is in the middle of the place mat. I like it there. I'm pretty much I'm in the center and William leans left." Seriously, he's bringing politics into this?!?!? "Plus, the place mats aren't big and you don't want the glasses on the table." Me attempting to bring this conversation back into some sort of normalcy, "Well it's still the proper way." Boss, "Well I guess I'm going to society hell since mine is in the middle and I'm not moving it. What about you William?" William, "I guess I'm going two levels below society hell because mine is to the left." Shawn was trying not to fall out of his chair laughing not completely certain whether I was going to lose it. I decided to move on...
"I'll clean up Chris if you'll go get the poster board and bag of candy for Caroline." Chris took that deal. Boss began writing a paper as I was cleaning up. "Hey Mama, what's another name for Jesus?" I started giving him possibilities. "No Mama, I need one that uses lots of words--I've got to get to 1000 words tonight." So, I continued only to be interrupted again, "What do you know? I'll figure it out." Clearly I don't know how to teach table manners....
Chris got home and Boss asked, "What kind of candy did you get?" Chris, "Snickers." Boss, "Snickers? Are you kidding me? No one likes snickers and besides we go to private school where everyone has those rich people peanut allergies. You should have bought reeces." Caroline walked in at that point which saved me from trying to deal with ANY of Boss' reasoning. Caroline, "What you got snickers?!?!?! No one likes snickers, you should have bought reeces." Chris moved to the kitchen to pour a bourbon--I should have joined him. Caroline, "Can you take me to Bowling Green on Sunday?" Boss, "I'm going to the UK basketball game so I can't." Caroline, "What the hell? Are you turning into a Cats fan? We HATE UK. I want to go to Bowling Green." (When did my children decide they could say 'hell' all the time?) Boss began to explain why he was going but then stopped to say, "Take a greyhound." Back to the whole greyhound conversation from last month. I jumped in, "She is NOT taking the greyhound." Caroline, "I could just take a taxi." Boss, "Are you an idiot? What the hell? (That word again) Speaking of which, where do you put your glass at the table? Mama says we're going to society hell." Caroline, "Please someone take me to Bowling Green...wait, Mama, you told the boys to go to hell?'
I joined Chris.
18 October 2014
Gripping and Groping
There were five of us in the car heading to fall gathering at All Saints. The babies, a shy seventh grader, and a young man who was a Karen refugee--sweet and kind. Honestly I don't know what people are thinking when they ask me to take their children to All Saints. An hour and a half in the car with our family? Seriously?!?!?! Do you know who we are? And yesterday was worse because the traffic was horrible and Caroline's energy was high....
In between spurts of "Why is the traffic so bad?' William, "It's rush hour." Caroline, "Well no one seems to be rushing." and "How much longer will there be traffic?' I have no idea I'm not psychic, Our guests were napping and Caroline was having a monologue of her own most of what I was ignoring. Will I ever learn? "Mama, Mama, I'm asking you a question, " Caroline pushed on my seat and said, "Aren't you listening to me?" Well I think it most have been obvious I wasn't, so I didn't answer. She continued without missing a beat, "Do you know ___________?" I tried to get context as she blurted out, "You know the tall nerdy kid who's totally weird?" Oh yeah, well that certainly narrows it down oh 5'10 totally weird child of mine. I simply responded, "I know who he is." "Well, " Caroline informed me, "Maria doesn't like him because he groped her." "WHAT?!?!?!?" Now she had my full attention as I was trying not to have an accident as I contorted my body to look at her while simultaneously rehearsing i my mind a conversation with Maria's mother. "You know, last week when she went to school with me." I tried to remain calm, "He groped her and you are just now telling me? Did you tell anyone?" Caroline, "Why would I do that?" "Caroline," I tried to calmly continue, "Please tell me exactly what happened." Caroline, "It wasn't that big of a deal. He just walked up to her and groped her arm really tightly." William, sitting in the front seat, is looking at me with a "she's an idiot" look.
My heart rate began to drop and I said, "Caroline, that is called gripping her arm. You can't go around and say someone groped someone. That's going to really get someone in trouble." (I totally missed the point that he also should not have been gripping her arm tightly but that's a conversation for another day." "Why not?" Caroline truly innocently asked. "Because," I said, "That is not what people think of when they hear the word groping. And if you said that at school he would get called in and be in some really big trouble before it got sorted out." "Well, what does groping mean?" she asked. William yanked off his ear phones and said, "PLEASE do not tell her!!!!" "Yes, tell me," she hollered from the back seat. "Mama please no," William begged. "William I have to explain it. She can't say things she doesn't understand." I said as I looked in the rear view mirror to make certain our guests were still napping. "Caroline, groping is usually the term used when someone grabs your breasts or bottom, so when you say someone has groped someone else that is what most people think you're talking about." William buried his head in his hands just at the time I realized our guests are also possums. As they were holding their sides and silently laughing, Caroline finished the conversation with, "I still like the word grope better than grip." "Caroline, just because you like a word better doesn't mean you can use it inappropriately." "Who's going to stop me?" Caroline asked, "The groping police."
We arrived at All Saints and as I got out of the car I saw our good friend and family favorite John MacLean, "Just so you know, Caroline was in rare form (or really just normal form) so the other two...." I began to say, but really how do you explain or even know what the other two might need? Instead I finished with, "Good luck. Have a great weekend."
In between spurts of "Why is the traffic so bad?' William, "It's rush hour." Caroline, "Well no one seems to be rushing." and "How much longer will there be traffic?' I have no idea I'm not psychic, Our guests were napping and Caroline was having a monologue of her own most of what I was ignoring. Will I ever learn? "Mama, Mama, I'm asking you a question, " Caroline pushed on my seat and said, "Aren't you listening to me?" Well I think it most have been obvious I wasn't, so I didn't answer. She continued without missing a beat, "Do you know ___________?" I tried to get context as she blurted out, "You know the tall nerdy kid who's totally weird?" Oh yeah, well that certainly narrows it down oh 5'10 totally weird child of mine. I simply responded, "I know who he is." "Well, " Caroline informed me, "Maria doesn't like him because he groped her." "WHAT?!?!?!?" Now she had my full attention as I was trying not to have an accident as I contorted my body to look at her while simultaneously rehearsing i my mind a conversation with Maria's mother. "You know, last week when she went to school with me." I tried to remain calm, "He groped her and you are just now telling me? Did you tell anyone?" Caroline, "Why would I do that?" "Caroline," I tried to calmly continue, "Please tell me exactly what happened." Caroline, "It wasn't that big of a deal. He just walked up to her and groped her arm really tightly." William, sitting in the front seat, is looking at me with a "she's an idiot" look.
My heart rate began to drop and I said, "Caroline, that is called gripping her arm. You can't go around and say someone groped someone. That's going to really get someone in trouble." (I totally missed the point that he also should not have been gripping her arm tightly but that's a conversation for another day." "Why not?" Caroline truly innocently asked. "Because," I said, "That is not what people think of when they hear the word groping. And if you said that at school he would get called in and be in some really big trouble before it got sorted out." "Well, what does groping mean?" she asked. William yanked off his ear phones and said, "PLEASE do not tell her!!!!" "Yes, tell me," she hollered from the back seat. "Mama please no," William begged. "William I have to explain it. She can't say things she doesn't understand." I said as I looked in the rear view mirror to make certain our guests were still napping. "Caroline, groping is usually the term used when someone grabs your breasts or bottom, so when you say someone has groped someone else that is what most people think you're talking about." William buried his head in his hands just at the time I realized our guests are also possums. As they were holding their sides and silently laughing, Caroline finished the conversation with, "I still like the word grope better than grip." "Caroline, just because you like a word better doesn't mean you can use it inappropriately." "Who's going to stop me?" Caroline asked, "The groping police."
We arrived at All Saints and as I got out of the car I saw our good friend and family favorite John MacLean, "Just so you know, Caroline was in rare form (or really just normal form) so the other two...." I began to say, but really how do you explain or even know what the other two might need? Instead I finished with, "Good luck. Have a great weekend."
10 October 2014
Being the Youngest
We were in the kitchen--Boss was revisiting his idea to take the Greyhound to Atlanta for a rap concert...Then he moved onto could his friend come over after school. Me, "No, I'm not going to be here I've got to go get food for Caroline for tomorrow night." Chris, "Yep, no one is to be here without Mama or me being home." Boss, "How about we go to the grocery store for you?" While I was thinking how this was probably going to end up costing me far more than I wanted it to, I was also thinking I could have an afternoon at home--I've worked five straight days where I didn't get home before 9 pm. "Sure," I said. "That'll work." I handed him the list. Just then Caroline walked in and said, "Oh tomorrow after the get together." Me, "You mean the get together that we're not calling a party because I told you no party but yet there are 20 freshmen coming to my house tomorrow?" Caroline, "There are not 20 coming; there's only 18." Oh of course THAT makes it a get together not a party.
"Anyway," Caroline continued, "Toree and Rachel are going to spend the night." "Okay." I responded. Boss jumped up, "What? Are you kidding me.? I would never have gotten away with just telling you people were going to spend the night when I was a freshmen. Wednesday night you come home to find Maria here and you just hugged her. That would never happen with my friends." (I absolutely would hug them and do but some of them might think it's creepy so I do try to control myself.) But he did have a point about Caroline's communication...
Wednesday night I arrived home at 10 pm and Chris asked, "Did you know Maria was coming?" "Maria's here?" I asked. Maria is Caroline's best friend from Bowling Green and there is a history of her showing up... But I love that girl so I bounded up the stairs to Caroline's room and gave her a big hug. Caroline's friends LIKE me to hug them. Caroline, "Did I forget to tell you again Maria was coming?" "Yeah you did," I said, "And what's she going to do tomorrow when you go to school?" Caroline, "Oh I've got that covered; I already talked to Mr. Behr (head of the upper school)." Glad someone gets clued into what 's going on at my house.
But back to Boss.."That is not true," I responded, "You know your friends are always welcome here." "No I'm serious," Boss continued not responding to my response because he was in the zone of the explaining the preferential treatment of the youngest and probably not able to hear me. "She just hands you a list of food she wants for a party that's not a party (glad he got that right) and you just do it. Caroline, you think it sucks being the youngest but you get all privileges." It did cross my mind that I should remind him I HATE that word, but he was in the zone and so he continued, "Name one thing that sucks (That word again!) about being the youngest and don't say something stupid like 'everyone else gets to drive first' because you will get to drive." "Well," I finally found something to say that may break the zone barrier, "She may get her license but at the rate you're going she'll have nothing to drive. Everything will be totaled by then." Boss, "Okay that may be the one bad part of being the youngest."
"Anyway," Caroline continued, "Toree and Rachel are going to spend the night." "Okay." I responded. Boss jumped up, "What? Are you kidding me.? I would never have gotten away with just telling you people were going to spend the night when I was a freshmen. Wednesday night you come home to find Maria here and you just hugged her. That would never happen with my friends." (I absolutely would hug them and do but some of them might think it's creepy so I do try to control myself.) But he did have a point about Caroline's communication...
Wednesday night I arrived home at 10 pm and Chris asked, "Did you know Maria was coming?" "Maria's here?" I asked. Maria is Caroline's best friend from Bowling Green and there is a history of her showing up... But I love that girl so I bounded up the stairs to Caroline's room and gave her a big hug. Caroline's friends LIKE me to hug them. Caroline, "Did I forget to tell you again Maria was coming?" "Yeah you did," I said, "And what's she going to do tomorrow when you go to school?" Caroline, "Oh I've got that covered; I already talked to Mr. Behr (head of the upper school)." Glad someone gets clued into what 's going on at my house.
But back to Boss.."That is not true," I responded, "You know your friends are always welcome here." "No I'm serious," Boss continued not responding to my response because he was in the zone of the explaining the preferential treatment of the youngest and probably not able to hear me. "She just hands you a list of food she wants for a party that's not a party (glad he got that right) and you just do it. Caroline, you think it sucks being the youngest but you get all privileges." It did cross my mind that I should remind him I HATE that word, but he was in the zone and so he continued, "Name one thing that sucks (That word again!) about being the youngest and don't say something stupid like 'everyone else gets to drive first' because you will get to drive." "Well," I finally found something to say that may break the zone barrier, "She may get her license but at the rate you're going she'll have nothing to drive. Everything will be totaled by then." Boss, "Okay that may be the one bad part of being the youngest."
01 September 2014
On Being Chauffeured
I miss driving. I miss being able to jump in the car and go where I need to when I need to (or want to). Well, I really couldn't do that right now anyway since my car is STILL in the shop from the accident SK had three weeks ago--she says it was good timing since I can't drive anyway because of the boot on my right foot. I suppose that's one way to look at it---
I know there are people who drive with their left foot--I have been one of those people. I was one of those people and because I was I have raised the bar on how to tick off your mother in law to a height my sister in laws can never reach. A year and a half ago I pulled into my mother in law's driveway driving with my left foot. I put the car in park but didn't turn it off--why? I have no idea...as I lifted my right foot over the console it knocked the gear into drive. I slammed on the brakes--well I thought I slammed on the brakes; I slammed the gas pedal down. My car lurched forward, clipped Chris' rear bumper and plowed into my mother in law's brand new BMW (some series I cannot even begin to think about affording). Her car plowed into their fence, slightly up the hill of their back yard and came to a complete stop by knocking down their shed. (They should probably thank me for taking out their shed; they wanted it down and they were going to have to pay someone to do what I managed to accomplish in just a few minutes, at no charge, well at least to them...) My car was totaled which is why I now have this beautiful car I love that my children keep wrecking! And so I don't drive when I'm in a boot---
Nonetheless, the novelty of being chauffeured by my children is starting to wear off for me; I think it is long gone for Boss. He says driving with me makes him nervous because I'm always grabbing the roof or slamming my non boot foot into the dashboard. In my defense, he has been involved in multiple accidents this summer; in his defense they weren't all his fault. Yesterday as we were driving and I was both grabbing the roof and slamming my foot he asked, "What do you think doing that is going to do other than increase my anxiety?" "I just don't want to die." I replied. "Well," he retorted, 'if we wreck and die wouldn't you rather them find your body in a normal position and not all contorted and weird?" I'm pretty sure there is no right answer to that....
Wednesday Boss was taking me in his truck downtown to church. It's typically my day off, but one of my parishioners was going to receive communion for the first time at the 5:30 service and I wanted to be there. (She is absolutely precious and there was no way I was missing this!) Another difference Boss and I have is how we get to church. I cannot stand driving on interstates if I don't have to; he cannot stand stopping at traffic lights. (He has not had an accident at a traffic light so I'm assuming he does stop when he has to.) I suggested to him that the interstate may not be the best choice because it was traffic time; he didn't listen. Being chauffeured by your children gives you a lot of practice in knowing when to speak and when to let them make choices and deal with the consequences. This was one of those times--
We got on the interstate and within five minutes were stopped in the inside lane (a point that will become important) in traffic. At one point I timed it and we went less than a mile in 10 minutes (I said I didn't speak not that I didn't take guilty pleasure in knowing I was right). My hand was getting a work out grabbing the roof as we were stopping and starting continuously and I thought not leaving enough room between cars-- Boss turned to me and said, "My stomach is killing me. I feel really sick." "You can lie down on my couch when we get to my office." (I didn't add where we would already be if you had listened to me.) "I really feel like I'm going to be sick." Just then he rolled down his window--yep he was. So now he's throwing up out the driver's side window and trying to watch the traffic as it is starting and stopping, I started scanning the road trying to figure out how we could pull off--there was no way. I was trying to be sympathetic and help him so I turned around in my seat to find a cloth or a drink. I grabbed one of his t-shirts so he could wipe his face and the side of the door. (I couldn't believe how much crap there was in the backseat--another opportunity to practice not speaking.) As I turned back around I caught the eye of the driver next to us. I could almost hear her judging me. I moved the seat back and tried to get my foot up on the dashboard. "What ARE you doing?" Boss asked as I was contorting myself. "I've got to get my foot up so people know I'm not a self centered mother who makes her son drive her around while he's throwing up." I'm pretty sure he thought, "No, not a self centered mother but definitely a neurotic, paranoid one." but now it was his turn to practice not speaking.
I know there are people who drive with their left foot--I have been one of those people. I was one of those people and because I was I have raised the bar on how to tick off your mother in law to a height my sister in laws can never reach. A year and a half ago I pulled into my mother in law's driveway driving with my left foot. I put the car in park but didn't turn it off--why? I have no idea...as I lifted my right foot over the console it knocked the gear into drive. I slammed on the brakes--well I thought I slammed on the brakes; I slammed the gas pedal down. My car lurched forward, clipped Chris' rear bumper and plowed into my mother in law's brand new BMW (some series I cannot even begin to think about affording). Her car plowed into their fence, slightly up the hill of their back yard and came to a complete stop by knocking down their shed. (They should probably thank me for taking out their shed; they wanted it down and they were going to have to pay someone to do what I managed to accomplish in just a few minutes, at no charge, well at least to them...) My car was totaled which is why I now have this beautiful car I love that my children keep wrecking! And so I don't drive when I'm in a boot---
Nonetheless, the novelty of being chauffeured by my children is starting to wear off for me; I think it is long gone for Boss. He says driving with me makes him nervous because I'm always grabbing the roof or slamming my non boot foot into the dashboard. In my defense, he has been involved in multiple accidents this summer; in his defense they weren't all his fault. Yesterday as we were driving and I was both grabbing the roof and slamming my foot he asked, "What do you think doing that is going to do other than increase my anxiety?" "I just don't want to die." I replied. "Well," he retorted, 'if we wreck and die wouldn't you rather them find your body in a normal position and not all contorted and weird?" I'm pretty sure there is no right answer to that....
Wednesday Boss was taking me in his truck downtown to church. It's typically my day off, but one of my parishioners was going to receive communion for the first time at the 5:30 service and I wanted to be there. (She is absolutely precious and there was no way I was missing this!) Another difference Boss and I have is how we get to church. I cannot stand driving on interstates if I don't have to; he cannot stand stopping at traffic lights. (He has not had an accident at a traffic light so I'm assuming he does stop when he has to.) I suggested to him that the interstate may not be the best choice because it was traffic time; he didn't listen. Being chauffeured by your children gives you a lot of practice in knowing when to speak and when to let them make choices and deal with the consequences. This was one of those times--
We got on the interstate and within five minutes were stopped in the inside lane (a point that will become important) in traffic. At one point I timed it and we went less than a mile in 10 minutes (I said I didn't speak not that I didn't take guilty pleasure in knowing I was right). My hand was getting a work out grabbing the roof as we were stopping and starting continuously and I thought not leaving enough room between cars-- Boss turned to me and said, "My stomach is killing me. I feel really sick." "You can lie down on my couch when we get to my office." (I didn't add where we would already be if you had listened to me.) "I really feel like I'm going to be sick." Just then he rolled down his window--yep he was. So now he's throwing up out the driver's side window and trying to watch the traffic as it is starting and stopping, I started scanning the road trying to figure out how we could pull off--there was no way. I was trying to be sympathetic and help him so I turned around in my seat to find a cloth or a drink. I grabbed one of his t-shirts so he could wipe his face and the side of the door. (I couldn't believe how much crap there was in the backseat--another opportunity to practice not speaking.) As I turned back around I caught the eye of the driver next to us. I could almost hear her judging me. I moved the seat back and tried to get my foot up on the dashboard. "What ARE you doing?" Boss asked as I was contorting myself. "I've got to get my foot up so people know I'm not a self centered mother who makes her son drive her around while he's throwing up." I'm pretty sure he thought, "No, not a self centered mother but definitely a neurotic, paranoid one." but now it was his turn to practice not speaking.
02 August 2014
Road Tripping with the Doyles
Family vacations have become very complicated. Between summer jobs, sports camps, and the very early start of fall sports, finding a week we can all be together is nearly impossible. This year Chris and I were determined to have a family vacation despite all the obstacles. But it meant creativity and two cars. (Just throwing that in there for environmentalists--we'd have to take 2 cars anyway but it feels less pollution enhancing if it's because we HAVE to leave on separate days.)
The Chris's left early Saturday morning. They were going to meet Daddy and William in Columbia. After much negotiating, they also took Bobby--the beloved (?) and obnoxious barking dog. (This is the dog we gave Caroline the year she started to not believe in Santa because we would NEVER buy a small dog and she knew that, but we definitely wanted another fully believing Christmas--they have to always act like they believe or the tree stays empty. Well that Christmas morning is one for the books--she believed. And now 3 1/2 years later, she's 14 so you can guess what she believes, and we still have Bobby; not sure we thought that one through very well.) Back to the story--other than lots of traffic and a much longer trip than planned, I haven't heard of any escapades--which only means they are hiding something....
Caroline returned home from field hockey camp mid afternoon Sunday. SK and I waited and we were going to drive as far as we could Sunday evening and then get to the beach on Monday--as early as possible. Thankfully our dear friend and knower of all information on everything, told me about a back way to get to I 26 that would miss sitting in the I 75 traffic. To tell you how desperate we were to get on the road, we didn't even wait for Caroline to shower. Anyone who has been around her after she is playing sports knows how desperate that proves we were.
As we got off the interstate in Corbin, KY to begin the back roads trek it started to rain. Having already taken my Sunday afternoon nap between Louisville and Lexington, I was driving. We were listening to SK's music through the stereo (trust me you would choose hers over Caroline's too). Every few minutes the music would stop and there would be some annoying weather screeching alert. It was hurting my ears; I was having a hard enough time driving through the torrential rain at dusk; and I just wanted to be at the beach, so I might have been a little less than on top of my game. "Turn that annoying noise off! We don't care what the weather drama is in Louisville." A few minutes later my iphone started screeching too. "SK, please change these weather apps so they are no broadcasting Louisville weather. I don't know how to do it and plus I'm driving!" Apparently not only do I not know how to turn off annoying apps, but I also don't understand GPS because this is what I heard next, "Mama, it's not Louisville weather. It's weather here and it's a tornado warning. It says to take shelter now." I had vacation on the brain--read not thinking at all clearly or at all which anyone who knows me well can attest to. I am terrified of weather and watch the weather channel not to mention having 4 weather apps on my iphone, "We've got to at least get to Johnson City." I had no idea how far we had to go; I could barely see the road, but it helped there were very few other cars on the road which I pointed out to the girls. They pointed out to me that only shows that everyone else had actually followed directions and taken shelter.
My knight in shining armor (husband) got us a hotel room in Johnson City and we made it. As we walked into the lobby at 8:30 pm, tired, hungry and smelly we were greeted by dozens of preteen girls who were there for a softball tournament. Oh happy day!!!! I certainly wasn't going to get back on the road--plus the room was paid for with points, so we took a deep breath and checked in. Across the parking lot was a BW3's (our go to restaurant) so we set off. The waiter tried to get Caroline to eat a dozen blazing wings in 10 minutes--she could totally do it but didn't want to. "But then your picture will be on our wall and I can see it everyday," the waiter explained. "I think he's flirting with me, " Caroline informed us, "And I even smell."
Back to the hotel where we were again greeted by shrieking girls from the lobby all the way up to our room and next door to our room--Good Lord deliver us! SK needed to get her steps in so she left to walk around the hotel. She was gone for quite some time. "Where did you walk?" I asked her. "This is a very small hotel," she answered, "I had to walk down the hall up the stairs down the hall up the stairs. There's only 4 floors. I stopped going on the main floor after the 4th round because people started staring." Both girls took showers--thank goodness! Back to how desperate we were to leave--SK had packed for Caroline who now began complaining about missing something. "Are you kidding me?" SK said, "Your drawers are disasters. I couldn't find anything. Don't you have some system about what goes in what drawer?" Caroline, "Well, I used to, but then one day I just took the whole pile and put it in one drawer and realized how much easier that is." I just sighed.
The next morning I woke them up early (7 am) and found they had slept in their clothes for the day. "Isn't it uncomfortable to sleep in bras?" I stupidly asked. "Not at all," Caroline matter-of-factly responded, "If I don't my boobs slide to the left. You don't have to worry about that." I honestly wanted to ask why the left and not the right, but I was too worried about the answer. As we were getting ready I was given a list of my annoying traits--like the way I drink coffee (the coffee I had brought to the room for BOTH SK and me). "You know," I said, "It's amazing that I have survived through life without ya'll." Without missing a beat SK responded, "It is and you even made friends."
We made it two blocks before we had to stop the car so my genetically OCD daughter could double check she hadn't left her bathing suit--Chris has many stories of having to pull over for me to check things. The previous night we had seen a bagel store that had a NOW OPEN sign, so we stopped. As we pulled into the parking lot Caroline said,, "I don't think it's going to be very good. It's new and the lot is empty." She was partly right that there was a problem. The bagels were good, but the service....The girl waiting on us was not at all pleasant--she didn't even crack at a smile at our jokes (and who doesn't think we're funny--or at least think Caroline is funny?) As we left SK said, "I don't think she's a morning person which is makes her career choice quite unfortunate."
Back on the road and all was well. We made it to the beach with little other drama.
Thursday afternoon Chris flew out to join his friends for his annual guy's "overindulge in every sport possible" weekend. (This is the shortest family week ever--2 days.) Before he left he put the bike rack and the bikes on the back of his car. I was grateful as I have no idea how to do it. But--SK decided she wanted to ride that afternoon so off they came. They did leave the rack on which I thought was the main issue. Friday morning I got up and was starting to get ready for my last morning run with Bobby and then stripping beds etc. Boss was already up and being extremely helpful collecting trash, stripping beds, and starting to pack up the car. (I have no idea why he was so eager to help and get on the road. I wasn't going to ask; I appreciated the help.) At 8 am we decided to wake the others and try to be on the road within the hour. He actually had a good time waking them up by blowing in their faces and watching/listening to them scream--that's another story. As the girls were beginning to get out of bed Boss froze--"Uh; I may not be right, but there is a chance that I've locked the keys in the trunk of the car." The girls took this as an opportunity to get back in bed. I began to retrace Boss' steps hoping this was another one of his ideas of a stupid joke. "Don't we have a spare somewhere?" "Um yes," I said, "In the spare key basket IN LOUISVILLE!!!!"
An hour and a half later pop a lock arrived. Keys found; cars finished being packed and out the door. It was only 10:30 so we were still doing okay. Wait, we're the Doyles nothing is ever as simple as it seems. Boss decided he needed a different size in the shirts he had bought the previous day, and we needed to stop for bagels. Again don't assume it's simple. He left 15 minutes before us; we called him after we got bagels and he still hadn't made it to the store. He was wandering around the parking lot because he couldn't find the store. (In his defense it's a huge shopping center and as he says, "I'm not obsessed with shopping. I've probably been here less than 10 times.) Finally on the road at 11:25--called Chris to tell him we were heading out.
"Explain to me how he locked the keys in the trunk. The bikes were on it and you can't open the trunk like that." "They rode bikes yesterday." I answered. "Why? Now the bikes are probably scratching the car. Did they fix the pedals right? I'm sure they didn't. Why did they want to ride?" I felt a tad bit guilty that I hadn't checked the bikes--I also didn't know what I'd be checking but that's beside the point. "At least they wanted to ride. It's good exercise." I could hear him thinking, "The bikes have been there all week and no one rode but now they want to?" but he didn't say anything. "I'll stop and check them at the next rest stop."
We pulled into the rest stop, and the bikes were fine. Better than fine. They had actually done an amazing job putting them on and securing them. Boss and SK got back into the acura and the babies and I in my car. They were going to continue to follow us. I started to back out and suddenly out of nowhere a car came flying down the lot so I stopped. A few minutes later I was going to again begin backing in when suddenly I saw Boss backing out and WHAM!! Yep right into me. He jumped out, ran around the car to my door and started saying, "I'm so sorry; I didn't see you; I'll pay for it." I semi calmly walked around the car to survey the damage. "It's not the bad, do you think?' he kept saying. At this point he stepped towards me and started to grab me to hug me. I guess that's not what it looked like to others in the parking lot because two men started moving towards us. "It's okay," I said, "We're family. It's all in the family." The babies were also now out of the car repeating, "Daddy's going to kill us." "What happened?" I stupidly asked. SK was about to fall down she was laughing so hard. Boss, "I think you were in my blind spot." SK, "Yeah, right before he started to back up he said, 'where's mama' and then BAM so I said, 'right there.'"
Back on the road I called Chris, "Have you had a beer yet today?" "No, why?" "Well, the good news is that the bikes are on really well." I heard him exhale and then clearly realized maybe he shouldn't have, "What else?" "Well Boss backed into me." There was little left to say....
The Chris's left early Saturday morning. They were going to meet Daddy and William in Columbia. After much negotiating, they also took Bobby--the beloved (?) and obnoxious barking dog. (This is the dog we gave Caroline the year she started to not believe in Santa because we would NEVER buy a small dog and she knew that, but we definitely wanted another fully believing Christmas--they have to always act like they believe or the tree stays empty. Well that Christmas morning is one for the books--she believed. And now 3 1/2 years later, she's 14 so you can guess what she believes, and we still have Bobby; not sure we thought that one through very well.) Back to the story--other than lots of traffic and a much longer trip than planned, I haven't heard of any escapades--which only means they are hiding something....
Caroline returned home from field hockey camp mid afternoon Sunday. SK and I waited and we were going to drive as far as we could Sunday evening and then get to the beach on Monday--as early as possible. Thankfully our dear friend and knower of all information on everything, told me about a back way to get to I 26 that would miss sitting in the I 75 traffic. To tell you how desperate we were to get on the road, we didn't even wait for Caroline to shower. Anyone who has been around her after she is playing sports knows how desperate that proves we were.
As we got off the interstate in Corbin, KY to begin the back roads trek it started to rain. Having already taken my Sunday afternoon nap between Louisville and Lexington, I was driving. We were listening to SK's music through the stereo (trust me you would choose hers over Caroline's too). Every few minutes the music would stop and there would be some annoying weather screeching alert. It was hurting my ears; I was having a hard enough time driving through the torrential rain at dusk; and I just wanted to be at the beach, so I might have been a little less than on top of my game. "Turn that annoying noise off! We don't care what the weather drama is in Louisville." A few minutes later my iphone started screeching too. "SK, please change these weather apps so they are no broadcasting Louisville weather. I don't know how to do it and plus I'm driving!" Apparently not only do I not know how to turn off annoying apps, but I also don't understand GPS because this is what I heard next, "Mama, it's not Louisville weather. It's weather here and it's a tornado warning. It says to take shelter now." I had vacation on the brain--read not thinking at all clearly or at all which anyone who knows me well can attest to. I am terrified of weather and watch the weather channel not to mention having 4 weather apps on my iphone, "We've got to at least get to Johnson City." I had no idea how far we had to go; I could barely see the road, but it helped there were very few other cars on the road which I pointed out to the girls. They pointed out to me that only shows that everyone else had actually followed directions and taken shelter.
My knight in shining armor (husband) got us a hotel room in Johnson City and we made it. As we walked into the lobby at 8:30 pm, tired, hungry and smelly we were greeted by dozens of preteen girls who were there for a softball tournament. Oh happy day!!!! I certainly wasn't going to get back on the road--plus the room was paid for with points, so we took a deep breath and checked in. Across the parking lot was a BW3's (our go to restaurant) so we set off. The waiter tried to get Caroline to eat a dozen blazing wings in 10 minutes--she could totally do it but didn't want to. "But then your picture will be on our wall and I can see it everyday," the waiter explained. "I think he's flirting with me, " Caroline informed us, "And I even smell."
Back to the hotel where we were again greeted by shrieking girls from the lobby all the way up to our room and next door to our room--Good Lord deliver us! SK needed to get her steps in so she left to walk around the hotel. She was gone for quite some time. "Where did you walk?" I asked her. "This is a very small hotel," she answered, "I had to walk down the hall up the stairs down the hall up the stairs. There's only 4 floors. I stopped going on the main floor after the 4th round because people started staring." Both girls took showers--thank goodness! Back to how desperate we were to leave--SK had packed for Caroline who now began complaining about missing something. "Are you kidding me?" SK said, "Your drawers are disasters. I couldn't find anything. Don't you have some system about what goes in what drawer?" Caroline, "Well, I used to, but then one day I just took the whole pile and put it in one drawer and realized how much easier that is." I just sighed.
The next morning I woke them up early (7 am) and found they had slept in their clothes for the day. "Isn't it uncomfortable to sleep in bras?" I stupidly asked. "Not at all," Caroline matter-of-factly responded, "If I don't my boobs slide to the left. You don't have to worry about that." I honestly wanted to ask why the left and not the right, but I was too worried about the answer. As we were getting ready I was given a list of my annoying traits--like the way I drink coffee (the coffee I had brought to the room for BOTH SK and me). "You know," I said, "It's amazing that I have survived through life without ya'll." Without missing a beat SK responded, "It is and you even made friends."
We made it two blocks before we had to stop the car so my genetically OCD daughter could double check she hadn't left her bathing suit--Chris has many stories of having to pull over for me to check things. The previous night we had seen a bagel store that had a NOW OPEN sign, so we stopped. As we pulled into the parking lot Caroline said,, "I don't think it's going to be very good. It's new and the lot is empty." She was partly right that there was a problem. The bagels were good, but the service....The girl waiting on us was not at all pleasant--she didn't even crack at a smile at our jokes (and who doesn't think we're funny--or at least think Caroline is funny?) As we left SK said, "I don't think she's a morning person which is makes her career choice quite unfortunate."
Back on the road and all was well. We made it to the beach with little other drama.
Thursday afternoon Chris flew out to join his friends for his annual guy's "overindulge in every sport possible" weekend. (This is the shortest family week ever--2 days.) Before he left he put the bike rack and the bikes on the back of his car. I was grateful as I have no idea how to do it. But--SK decided she wanted to ride that afternoon so off they came. They did leave the rack on which I thought was the main issue. Friday morning I got up and was starting to get ready for my last morning run with Bobby and then stripping beds etc. Boss was already up and being extremely helpful collecting trash, stripping beds, and starting to pack up the car. (I have no idea why he was so eager to help and get on the road. I wasn't going to ask; I appreciated the help.) At 8 am we decided to wake the others and try to be on the road within the hour. He actually had a good time waking them up by blowing in their faces and watching/listening to them scream--that's another story. As the girls were beginning to get out of bed Boss froze--"Uh; I may not be right, but there is a chance that I've locked the keys in the trunk of the car." The girls took this as an opportunity to get back in bed. I began to retrace Boss' steps hoping this was another one of his ideas of a stupid joke. "Don't we have a spare somewhere?" "Um yes," I said, "In the spare key basket IN LOUISVILLE!!!!"
An hour and a half later pop a lock arrived. Keys found; cars finished being packed and out the door. It was only 10:30 so we were still doing okay. Wait, we're the Doyles nothing is ever as simple as it seems. Boss decided he needed a different size in the shirts he had bought the previous day, and we needed to stop for bagels. Again don't assume it's simple. He left 15 minutes before us; we called him after we got bagels and he still hadn't made it to the store. He was wandering around the parking lot because he couldn't find the store. (In his defense it's a huge shopping center and as he says, "I'm not obsessed with shopping. I've probably been here less than 10 times.) Finally on the road at 11:25--called Chris to tell him we were heading out.
"Explain to me how he locked the keys in the trunk. The bikes were on it and you can't open the trunk like that." "They rode bikes yesterday." I answered. "Why? Now the bikes are probably scratching the car. Did they fix the pedals right? I'm sure they didn't. Why did they want to ride?" I felt a tad bit guilty that I hadn't checked the bikes--I also didn't know what I'd be checking but that's beside the point. "At least they wanted to ride. It's good exercise." I could hear him thinking, "The bikes have been there all week and no one rode but now they want to?" but he didn't say anything. "I'll stop and check them at the next rest stop."
We pulled into the rest stop, and the bikes were fine. Better than fine. They had actually done an amazing job putting them on and securing them. Boss and SK got back into the acura and the babies and I in my car. They were going to continue to follow us. I started to back out and suddenly out of nowhere a car came flying down the lot so I stopped. A few minutes later I was going to again begin backing in when suddenly I saw Boss backing out and WHAM!! Yep right into me. He jumped out, ran around the car to my door and started saying, "I'm so sorry; I didn't see you; I'll pay for it." I semi calmly walked around the car to survey the damage. "It's not the bad, do you think?' he kept saying. At this point he stepped towards me and started to grab me to hug me. I guess that's not what it looked like to others in the parking lot because two men started moving towards us. "It's okay," I said, "We're family. It's all in the family." The babies were also now out of the car repeating, "Daddy's going to kill us." "What happened?" I stupidly asked. SK was about to fall down she was laughing so hard. Boss, "I think you were in my blind spot." SK, "Yeah, right before he started to back up he said, 'where's mama' and then BAM so I said, 'right there.'"
Back on the road I called Chris, "Have you had a beer yet today?" "No, why?" "Well, the good news is that the bikes are on really well." I heard him exhale and then clearly realized maybe he shouldn't have, "What else?" "Well Boss backed into me." There was little left to say....
07 July 2014
The Day Our Family Became Complete
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| Yellow gingham with storks smocked on them |
My children love to hear the stories of their births--and then they share them--well, they share them in the way they want to share them. Caroline, for example, informed the entire Collegiate 8th grade that she was one of the 1% birth control failures. Well I am happy to use that to perpetuate fear and celibacy in her but it's only part of the story.
I knew I was pregnant almost immediately. I didn't tell Chris--the children were 9 months, 26 months, and just turned 4--I needed him not to have a heart attack--I didn't want to be left with these monkeys! I went a bought a pregnancy test--negative. So I bought a second one, negative. So as any slightly crazed, exhausted mother of three would do, I bought a third. This time it barely came up positive if I waited for 30 minutes and if I held it up to the light just right. I called the hotline--they said it wasn't accurate after 10 minutes. So I called the OBGYN and was put straight through to Dr. Ruth Cline's nurse--I was on a first name basis with everyone. Cheryl said, "Mrs. Doyle, if they are all negative you are not pregnant." (She didn't add, "you lunatic that is also on birth control.") I hung up but couldn't relax, so I called back. "Do you think I should go buy another test and take it again?" Cheryl, "No, I don't think you should do that. You have already spent more on tests and taken more than you need to--they are very accurate." It was nap time and I knew my time was limited so I refused to take no for an answer. "But what if they are wrong? Maybe I should buy one and do it first thing in the morning." Cheryl, who also knew Chris fairly well said, "Mrs. Doyle, your husband is going to kill you if you keep spending money on pregnancy tests that keep coming back negative. Why don't you come into the office and we'll do one here." "Oh thank you! I'll get the children up and come right down." "Whenever they wake up will be fine." Cheryl answered obviously not wanting three tired children whose insane mother woke them up in the office.
I went down to the office, took the test--negative. The next day I called again; instead of Cheryl, I was put straight through to the doctor. Ruth, "Katherine you are driving my staff crazy." I wasn't even offended, "But Ruth," I whined, "We are about to put money down on an all inclusive family cruise. What if I'm pregnant and can't go?" Ruth, "You are not pregnant but if you promise to not call this office again (she didn't say never again, but she may have thought it), I will send you for a blood test this afternoon."
I got the children dressed and was heading out the door when the phone rang. It was Chris. "Hey, I can't talk right now I'm running out the door." Chris knowing the value of naps said, "Now? Where are you going?" I briefly thought about lying, but nothing good was coming to my mind, so I decided to tell a half truth. "I just have to run get some routine blood work done. I'll call you when I get back." LONG PAUSE--I think I might have heard him gulp. "You think you're pregnant don't you?" I started talking a mile a minute, "Oh it's probably nothing; the doctor's office thinks I'm crazy since over the past few days I've done 7 tests and they're all negative." "Wait," interrupted Chris. "You've done 7 pregnancy tests?" Now how was I going to explain this to him? I hemmed and hawed and just said, "Gotta run. Love you." Out the door to the lab and home for naps. I was very efficient when I wanted to be.
Don't want to belabor the next 8 months so I'll bullit point them:
- I was in maternity clothes by 10 weeks
- my hormone levels were rising so quickly that the nurses had a pool on whether it was twins or triplets (It really is a good thing Chris didn't know that until after we knew there was just one.)
- I threw up non stop for the first 4 1/2 months--only pregnancy I was sick with, and yes I lost total pride--Christmas parades, school parking lots, chick-fil-A, you name it
- I have no idea how much weight I gained because I started refusing to step on the scale. Ruth allowed it--there are some perks to being a frequent flyer
- a great way to be entertained is to show up 7 months pregnant at the pool (looking like your overdue) and have the teenage boy lifeguard ask you if you're allowed to be there. Then have your friend answer, "Well they did cover delivering babies in training right?" No amount of sunburn could cover how quickly his face paled. He never spoke to us again, but I think he exhaled every time I left the pool.
And just to throw this public service announcement in--when a woman is pregnant with her fourth child, do not ask
- Do you know what causes this?
- Are you sure it's not twins?
- Are you sure they have the due date correct? (Seriously, as Chris said we have three children under three, we can give you the date, time and place!)
- Was this planned?
- Are you sure you can have a fourth c-section? (First, there's no other way to get this child out and second, Rose Kennedy had 12!)
- How are you going to do it? (I'm going to get up every morning and just do it--it's called being a Mommy)
- Do you know how expensive this is going to be? (Because we need to be reminded?)
Finally the morning of the C-section came. We were so excited to find out if we were going to welcome James Patrick or Caroline Elizabeth in to our lives. I had to have 6 hours of antibiotics before the C-section because of strep something or another. I told Chris I would just drive myself to the hospital at 6 am and then he could get the children to the Adams around 11 and meet me for the noon birth. Again 3 children under 4 you have to be practical. But that morning all three came flying down the stairs as I was leaving crying because they wanted to go. We didn't want to be late, so we just loaded them into the suburban pj's and all and headed downtown. As we headed downtown I said, "Chris I want to use my maiden name somewhere in the name." Chris looked over at me with a semi glazed look in his eyes and said, "Whatever you want darlin'" We arrived with all three padding down the hall--there might have been a few stares--there were a few stares. Chris got me settled as the children climbed all over me, the bed, the rocking chair--everywhere. A nurse asked, "How old are they?" I confidently replied, "5, 3 and 18 months) Chris looked at me, looked at the nurse, looked back at me and said, "She's lying. They're 4,2 and 17 months." I sheepishly looked down--"well it sounded better the other way."
I'm not sure how Chris got them out of the room but he did and my dear friend Krista sat with me until Chris could get back. As they were prepping me for surgery they asked me to take my rings off--as happens every time, I refused. I just couldn't bring myself to deliver a baby without my rings on--don't question a pregnant woman about to deliver. Ruth was assisted by one of her partners and another friend Andrew. As they began prepping me, Andrew and Chris started talking about good running routes around downtown and Ruth and I started talking about the sales at the children's store around the corner. We were laughing and having a good time. One nurse kept fussing with my blankets and interrupting to ask if I needed anything. When she started explaining what would be happening, a second nurse winked at me, leaned over and whispered, "She does this every year; she knows what's going on." 
Ruth pulled the baby half way out increasing the suspense. She pulled her all the way out and tears and cheers erupted. I had no idea until that moment how desperately I wanted it to be a girl. The boys had each other and I so wanted SK to have a sister like I did. The pediatrician took her to the corner to check her over. I had told Ruth I wanted my tubes tied once I knew everything was fine. As the pediatrician was checking her out Andrew and Chris were trying to figure out if they would have time for a quick run before she came back to the nursery. Ruth, "Ya'll go ahead. I can sew her up by myself." Chris, "I"m not leaving until I see those tubes burned and tied." Ruth laughing asked the pediatrician, "Is she a keeper?" "Definitely." More cheers and for the first time in a delivery room Chris walked around the drape and said, "Let me watch please." Then he and Andrew left for a quick run while Caroline KANTO Doyle was being bathed and cleaned up. And that day our family became complete.
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