Bedfellows, Bubble Baths, and a Trip to the Zoo

My Emily is not the best bedfellow.  I remember Grandmother saying that about my little sister Tracy, but she always let Tracy get in their bed.  Now I understand why.  It doesn’t matter how many times Emily throws her legs over me or twists the covers or knocks knees, I love her sleeping in the bed with me. 

A couple of weeks ago she and Molly were here for a mini-spring break and Emily slept with us two nights in a row.  The first night she woke me up with a sudden “kerplunk” of her legs thrown over mine, both of hers at the same time landed squarely on me.  I moved them back and went back to sleep.  About an hour later it happened again, this time her knees sort of crooking over my legs, getting a good lock.  I unlocked them from mine and tossed them back over.  Then I decided I may as well get a jump on this deal so I threw my legs over hers and went back to sleep.  Two can play that game.

The next morning as I was making breakfast – Emily’s favorite, my “over done” (meaning over-easy) eggs cooked in butter with toast and fruit – we laughed at the kerplunk story.  She told it to her mom, then to Grandpa, my co-workers and pretty much to whomever would listen.  To her the story just got funnier as we told it, like the one about the Rollaway Cart (see blog June 2011). 

The girls came to visit their new cousin, Liam.  Emily wanted to hold the sweet newborn, but Molly was mainly interested in exploring the backyard – which was not at all Molly-proof.  It slopes down over an uneven path directly to the edge of the creek, and it was all I could do to keep ahead of her so she didn’t do a nose dive.  She loved “Uncle Walter’s backyard”.

Later at Grandma’s Emily set up school on the upstairs back porch while we were waiting for supper.  She was the teacher of course, with her desk, chair, crayons and paper arranged, and I was her only student (Molly doesn’t sit still for school, too busy trying to pole vault off the porch or blow bubbles or poke a stick through the spokes of the exercise bike or see if she can squeeze through the railing).  Emily made sure I drew my cat exactly as I was supposed to and copied my letters correctly. 

After I passed art class, she got out all the stuffed animals from the grandkids’ room and made a zoo along the porch, grouping the animals by like kind.  There were sections for dogs, bears, mice, cats, tigers & lions, and a special cave of honor for Bambi, who always gets special treatment.  On our first visit to the zoo, we made the rounds admiring all the animals.  Then we made the rounds again to pet each animal, making sure no one was overlooked.  Then we made the rounds again to feed each one, using crayons, one per animal.  Molly was in and out of the zoo, but Grandpa loved it.

Bubbles baths next.  Big Bubbles all the way.  Grandpa has the best hands for swishing the most bubbles, but Grandma does a pretty fair job too if there is enough bubble soap.  I let Emily soak a little longer, being the head zookeeper and all, while putting Molly to bed.  She was exhausted and for once went down pretty easily.  Grandpa almost woke her up by choosing just that time to replace the porch light outside that window, but fortunately my wildly quiet arm waving and evil-eye got his attention.  (Dang, I should have let him replace it, the darn bulb is still out there waiting to be replaced…)

Once Emily was de-bubbled and wrapped in a towel like a taco it was off to bed, where she and Grandpa and I enjoyed reading Ramona the pest.  Emily held the Ramona doll, and talked Grandpa into petting Pete the cat.  We read most of the chapter where it’s Ramona’s first day at kindergarten and she doesn’t want anyone to take her to school because she’s a big girl but of course her mom insists so she goes with her big sister who is bossing her around.  As a big sister I love that story. 

But it wasn’t until the following week when I was at Emily’s house for her 6^th birthday party that we had our next Bedfellows experience.   That evening we danced to music from the keyboard, made up our own songs and were in general very silly.  Which was followed by Bubble Bath.  Which began to involve a lot of spitting of bathwater, for some unknown reason.  I left the bathroom to go change my shirt, catching myself as I dug through my suitcase, thinking, “Wait, what am I doing, I’m going right back in there!”  I must be getting old - never change your shirt until after they are out of the bathtub…

It was movie night and Emily got to pick, so we watched “Wreckit Ralph”, which was actually better than I expected.  We snuggled on the couch under a blanket with popcorn and giggled at the banter between Ralph “Admiral Underpants” and his friend Vanellope von Schweetz.  Emily and Molly and I adjourned to their room where they played quietly.  Molly put her babies to bed in Great Gran’s old wooden cradle, and Emily played with her miniature pet set, taking them to the little wooden church I’d given her for Christmas.  I laid on the bed watching them, delighting in the scene.  It had everything I deem important – family, tradition, faith, fun, love, home, the feeling of security.  I felt happy and comfortable – and then just happy, as Emily climbed into bed with me and started intentionally throwing her legs over me. 

I tried to explain that kerplunk was only funny if it happened while you were sleeping.  We laughed and drifted off.  This time she had new tricks under the covers.  We slept feet to feet, where she laid on her side and her feet touched one of mine, tucked under one of my legs, our feet-prints meeting.  Then later we went knees to knees, each turned on our side facing each other.  Each time I looked at her sweet sleeping face and smiled.  Doesn’t matter to me if it’s kerplunk, feet to feet or knees to knees, I’ll take this little bedfellow any night.

New Dentist

I think I’m going to like my new dentist.  Especially since he kept Valerie.  But last week when I met him, well, let’s just say I don’t want to have that exact experience again.

For 34 years I had the same dentist, Dr. J, at the same location.  He knew my history, did all my fillings, crowns, re-fillings, re-crowns, and teeth cleanings.  He also did the routine dentals for my children, and we became good friends.  Heck, he’s not much older than I am so we kind of grew up together.  He knew my need for extra numbing shots, my sensitivity and my tolerance for pain.

Changing dentists can be traumatic, but I weathered Dr. J’s retirement well last year and he assured me the new guy, Dr. H, was young but very good.  I knew Dr. J wouldn’t steer me wrong so I tried the new guy and he was good.  I liked him and the new receptionist Valerie.  The only thing I didn’t like was that right about that time all my 30 yr old crowns and fillings started to fall apart, so Dr. H struck an immediate gold mine.  I’m sure I paid for his lake house, a new car or at the very least his student loans.

We saw a lot of each other for the next 8 months, trying to complete “out with the old and in with the new.”  There was one old crown left that still need replacing and I told Dr. H I’d wait until after the new year and we’d start up again.

It was March before I called to make the appointment, and I was shocked when Valerie told me Dr. H was out and there was another new guy, Dr. N.  Geez, I’m too old to keep breaking in new dentists, especially with everything breaking and deteriorating.  But I really like Valerie a great dental assistant who knows the insurance side of things better than anyone I’ve ever run across, and figured if I had to get a new dentist I may as well go with one whose receptionist I really liked.  I could always ditch him if the first appointment didn’t go well.

Which I thought about during the 2 ½ hour visit.  But it’s wasn’t Dr. N’s fault, it was more a comedy of errors due to the facts that he had been at that practice for exactly 1 week, was suffering from newly acquired Austin allergies, was experiencing equipment problems, and his new dental assistant Tiffany had just graduated from dental assistant school that morning.  Given those circumstances, Murphy’s Law took hold and it got a little crazy. 

Tiffany was a little nervous, and every time she made a mistake kept saying, “Just kidding!”  One thing she did very well was take xrays; I had more xrays in that one sitting than I’ve had in my entire life.  But choosing the tools for the dentist tray, working the water sprayer, suction or air gun she was not yet proficient at. By the time I was done I’d had my face washed, the insides of my cheeks sucked down a tube, and my hair was freshly blow dried. 

After Tiffany “prepped” me, Dr. N came in and introduced himself.  I told him I had fillings older than he was and he laughed.  Good, I thought, at least he has a sense of humor.  I told him I wasn’t a high maintenance patient but I did require extra deadening shots before the procedure.  Tiffany chimed in, “Oh yes, I’m the same way, my last procedure it took 9 shots”.  I wondered if that were Novocain for her or Jack Daniels for the doctor.

The doctor assessed my situation, swabbed the area with local and administered a hefty dose of anesthetic.  So far so good.  As he reached for his drill and examined the drill bit, he frowned.  “This old crown is metal, is this the sharpest tip we have?”  Tiffany replied, “It’s the one we are supposed to use.”  Dr. N started drilling.  And kept on drilling, drilling until I wondered how big the old crown could possibly be.  Finally, he stopped and said to her, “I need something sharper to drill it out.  Don’t we have something better?”

“Just kidding!” said Tiffany, as she rushed out to get another.  A few seconds later she returned with another, which Dr. N dutifully exchanged but didn’t look very hopeful.  He drilled for a while and then finally called, “Balerie, can I see you?”  (He has to say Valerie because he’s from Peru and V’s are hard for him.  It reminded me of Ricky Ricardo.)  Valerie popped in, realized right away he was trying to drill my old metal crown off with a Qtip and brought him the sharpest bit they had. 

Now he had the tools he needed and started to make headway.  Which I could feel because by this time the initial shot had started to wear off.  I let him know with my wild eyes and a slight raise of the hand that he needed to stop, which he did immediately. Valerie was watching from the doorway and said, “the mouth is starting to wake up, she needs another shot.”  Boy, did he ever give me another shot, two of ‘em in fact.  One in the same place as before, and another ‘surprise’ shot on the inside of the roof of the mouth, which hurt like H  E double hockey sticks.  “Sorry,” he said, and looked like he really meant it.

In seconds I was totally numb again and starting to enjoy the comedy routine.  Valerie was working on my mouth, pushing the gums up so they could get a better impression for the temporary crown.  She was enjoying her captive audience, telling me all about her 3 sons, her nephew who was learning to drive, and another nephew who called her “Aunt Chicken Nuggets”.  Her delightful narrative was set to the occasional sound of “Just Kidding!” coming from the other room where Tiffany was “helping” Dr. N with another patient.  I heard the doctor say, “Sorry about that water spray, our equipment is leaking.  Tiffany, can you bring him another towel?”   “Oh sure - just kidding!”

Valerie put pink foam into a plastic tray and placed it carefully in my mouth. While she waited for the impression to set she told me that she’d thought she wanted a girl but wasn’t sure if she wanted a fourth child but her husband would like one and who knows whether they would have another or not.  “I just got them all to the age where they can make their own peanut butter and jelly, it’s tempting to stop there,” she said. 

Finally the impression was made (in more ways than one), and Valerie fitted my temporary crown perfectly into the slot she and Dr. N had worked so hard to make.  She gave me a fresh towel and told me to meet her up front.  I stood up, feeling strange after all that time laying down with my mouth wide open and my hair with that wind blown look. 

Up front Dr. N was standing next to Balerie.  “I hope we didn’t hurt you,” he said compassionately.  “Not at all,” I said.  I turned to Valerie.  “Look, nothing personal but I’d like to stop seeing you quite so often!”  She laughed and said, “You say that now, but I just checked with your new insurance and this crown is $300 less than the last one you had!”  Man, she really knows how to keep you hooked.

I think I’m going to like my new dentist…

Liam

Liam.  His name rolls off the tongue, feels and sounds almost liquid.  Like the way he feels in my arms when I hold him.  His soft newborn skin, the way his eyes move to the sound of one his parents’ voice or try to focus on me when I talk to him, and the completely trusting way he sleeps against me have stolen my heart.

I am blessed with many grandchildren, three of whom share my DNA.  Liam is the latest on the scene, my first grandson, son of my son.  His great grandmother Owen and great aunt Marie already say he looks like his daddy; he’s not quite 2 weeks old but I too see the resemblance. 

Liam is a happy, healthy, cuddly little boy.  One look at him and you just want to reach out, fold him into your arms and stay that way for hours because the passage of time just does not matter.  His mother of course is the one he needs most right now and if he is hungry his searching mouth with its beautiful full lips let you know he needs her sooner than later.  But he responds to his dad’s numerous kisses too, accepting them graciously if he is sleeping, or sweeping his eyes up to his dad’s face if he’s not.  Either way is precious to behold.

Best of all, Liam is 10 minutes away.  Not 200 miles or 4 hours or another state or even another country.  He’s right here, and his generous parents say I can come by as often as I want to for a fix.  I praise God for forming him into a healthy baby in his mother’s womb, for his mother’s discipline during the pregnancy and courage during delivery, and for the privilege of being present at his almost miraculously ‘easy’ birth.  Father, you have given me yet another precious gift in this newest of 12 grandchildren.  To say Thank You is inadequate, so I shall live out my gratitude by loving, nurturing and praying for this little one as best I know how until he is old enough to approach you on his own and find joy in relationship with his Creator.  Bless his parents and his big sister, and thank you for families filled with love.

Journey through December - Jed Clampitt at The Houstonian

I surveyed the bed of the truck one last time.  It was loaded full, like I’ve never seen it, not even weeks earlier when the 3 futon beds, refrigerator and tile for the new shower were taken to the Ranch to complete the remodel.  This was the last trip, the one where we’d actually get to go and have all of our kids and theirs with us for Christmas.  Neither of us had taken off two full weeks of vacation from work in 11 years.  Excited doesn’t begin to describe how I felt.

We furnished the Ranch in early Craigslist.  I thought back to all the time I’d spent searching ads, talking to sellers and dragging my husband all over Travis, Hays and Williamson counties to find the perfect deals:  futons with nice wooden frames and mattresses that had hardly been used; small wooden side tables for the bedrooms; Texas star light fixture for the hall bath; Western themed futon cover, bedding and bedside lamps.  It had all come together so well and now, finally, I would get to enjoy it all at the Rockin R.

The small furniture items were carefully wedged among the large plastic Ziploc bags filled with new washed towels and bed linens, pushed up against coolers, tools, fishing gear, duffel bags of ammo and whatever odds and ends I couldn’t fit in the back of the cab – which was equally stuffed to the gills. 

We had packed clothes / toiletries for two weeks plus Christmas gifts for both sides of the family.  It was December in Texas, so I had to pack clothes and shoes and jackets for 20◦ to 80◦ weather for all special events.  Our whirlwind trip through east and north Texas included plans ranging from a dress Christmas party to a professional football game to a week of play and work at the Ranch to the rodeo to Christmas Eve service and several family gatherings in between before we’d be home again. 

I’m a pretty good packer and I’ve packed for some long trips that required all kinds of attire.  But never have I had to combine all that luggage with ranch remodel furniture.   I laid out all our outfits for the entire time, and decided to pack in multiple duffle bags according to event, figuring that way some of our stuff could stay in the truck as we made our way from A to B and all stops in between.  There were 6 or 7 different bags plus our pillows plus my CPAP plus my laptop bag with accessories plus my car snack bag plus my purse plus my sewing project for something to do on the road plus special hanging clothes.  Fortunately the dog and all the rifles and handguns had been sent with Craig and family that morning – we could NOT fit one more thing in that vehicle.

One last tour of the upstairs and down to make sure lights were off, doors were locked and the oven wasn’t on and we loaded ourselves into the truck.  All Paul had to do was open his door and get in; but I had to arrange myself, my purse, laptop bag, snacks and sewing project around and on me to get it all to fit.  Paul started the truck and we pulled out of the driveway, looking every bit like Jed Clampitt and Elly Mae (I’m no granny, that would be my sister Marie).

Fortunately, the Rockin R does NOT look like this the Clampitts shed before they moved to Beverly Hills. But unfortunately, we looked pretty much like Jed and Elly Mae.  I say unfortunately, because our first stop was Houston – as in The Houstonian hotel, which is where we’d be spending the night after attending our fancy schmancy Christmas party for work.  We passed through the hotel entrance and immediately I felt my cheeks burn red.  I couldn’t help it.  As we drove through the lush manicured grounds and approached the front with black-tie valets awaiting our every parking pleasure, I had a feeling they’d never seen a truck piled high inside and out like ours. 

  

One of the valets opened my passenger door and paused, not sure where to start or what to say.  In his finest Jed style, Paul stepped out of the truck and said, “Howdy gentlemen, we are going to need your help with our truck.  As you can see, we are loaded up to head for the ranch tomorrow, and I want you to watch over all our belongings in the truck bed.”  My valet took the cue and said, “Certainly sir.  Ma’am, may I help you out?” while the one on Paul’s side said, “Absolutely.  I’ll bring a luggage cart around.”

Then I remembered we were the customer and I had no reason to be embarrassed.  I was feeling better until they opened the back seat doors and had to perform triage juggling to keep the groceries, table accessories and cowboy hats from falling out as they dug underneath to find the one bag I’d packed for this event and my CPAP bag.  Our hanging clothes added some dignity to our extremely casual luggage and we followed it in to the checkout counter.

Later, as we exited the hotel dressed in our finery to meet our driver for the short trip to the party, those same valets opened doors and escorted us out front looking as if they’d never seen us before.  Which I guess they hadn’t – as we say in my family, we clean up real nice when we need to.

The party lasted late and was a grand success, and I enjoyed feeling totally non-hillbilly in my sparkly top and soft slacks.  We slept well in the luxurious room and rose early the next morning to splurge on elegant room service while we got ready and packed, planning to be on the road by 8.  Watching the sun rise out our 2^nd floor window and dining on fresh juice with an omelet to die for, I let myself relax for 20 minutes before switching to high gear.  We had a 4 hour drive and another major change of clothes ahead of us before the next event – a Sunday afternoon Dallas Cowboy game in a suite with ALL of our children and most of our grandchildren in attendance.  But in the meantime we were back to Jed and Elly Mae, and it was time to get moving.

We were checked out, re-loaded and pulling out of the hotel drive at 8:05.  Good, I thought, we are going to be fine on time.  It was then that I noticed the dark sky up ahead and saw the first very large raindrop on the windshield.  Jed was starting to look concerned and I glanced back at the stuff in the bed of the truck.  This was going to get interesting.