Tag Archives: Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday, Saver of Bugs!

I really have been blogging for a whole year!  It’s my darling daughter’s birthday again!  Wow!

You can view last year’s post here and see what an awesome smile she has! https://crittersandchaos.wordpress.com/2012/04/30/once-upon-a-time-i-was-immortal-or-happy-birthday-to-saver-of-bugs/

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAUGHTER!

This year I’m sending you pictures of fuzzies and fish from home.

Your new oto is getting along fine with the old guy.  They've adopted this plant as their hangout.

Your new oto is getting along fine with the old guy. They’ve adopted this plant as their hangout.

Blurry, blurry.  But these guys just won't sit still.  There is your first new guy.  He wants to be friends but the old guy doesn't know what to do with him.  :)

Blurry, blurry. But these guys just won’t sit still. There is your first new guy. He wants to be friends but the old guy doesn’t know what to do with him. 🙂

And your other new guy.  He is actually much smaller than he looks here.  He was just closer to the glass.  He is a little bigger than the Cardinal baby.  It's the same one you looked at when you were here.  He survived that whole week in with the big guys, so I got him even though he was a bit skinny.  He's very bold and roams the tank and goes right to the surface to eat.

And your other new guy. He is actually much smaller than he looks here. He was just closer to the glass. He is a little bigger than the Cardinal baby. It’s the same one you looked at when you were here. He survived that whole week in with the big guys, so I got him even though he was a bit skinny. He’s very bold and roams the tank and goes right to the surface to eat.

This is MY couch!

This is MY couch!  A picture that is almost a year old.  And nothing has changed!

Back scratch!

Back scratch!

I'm helping mom.

I’m helping mom.

Mom says I need exercise but chasing the rat is hard work!

Mom says I need exercise but chasing the rat is hard work!

I'm busy here!

Whaaaaat!?

I haz beeeg feets!

I haz beeeg feets!

Remember this?

Remember this?

I miss you!  Happy Birthday!

I miss you! Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday from all your humans, too! 

Hugs n smooches, sweetie!

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Happy Birthday to Spider Bait

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPIDER BAIT!

You bring light and joy into our lives.  We love you heart and soul.

Hugs n Smooches, Your family.

My baby boy turned 18 today.  (Sniffle)  I don’t have a montage of pictures to show you like I did with Saver.  Spider Bait doesn’t want his face all over the blog.  And a life’s history would take too long and probably get me in trouble (“You told them WHAT?”).  But I figure I can get away with a few ‘baby’ stories that have been told ‘ad nauseum’.

  • We were at my BFF’s house in the big city waiting to see if my contractions would reach critical before driving all the way back home.  I didn’t want to get home and then turn around and come back.  When I go into labor, I go from zero to NOW in a hurry.  The contractions said NOW and my BFF said she knew a short cut to the Birthing Center.  So she got us lost.  We made it in plenty of time, but she will never ever hear the end of this one.
  • Spider Bait’s name was supposed to be Jenna Adair.  Yep, he was supposed to be a she.  I have video to prove it.  But when the Midwife went to wipe ‘her’ off, she made a funny noise and then said, “It’s a boy!”  Within seconds everyone in the birthing room was standing over my half nakedness staring at Spider Bait’s particulars.
  • Now this was a special kind of gift.  See, I didn’t know until I found out I was going to have a girl that I actually did have a preference.  And was shocked that I did.  I wanted a boy.  And since there would be no ‘favorite child’ in MY house, I made sure to say ‘her’ or ‘she’ whenever I talked about the baby.  Unfortunately, this was a habit that was hard to break.  I kept calling Spider Bait ‘her’ or ‘she’ for several months after he was born.  He swears that it has scarred him for life.
  • Did you know he could climb pretty much anything?  As soon as he learned to crawl he became a monkey as well.  That meant the end of using a crib or playpen to contain him while I did silly things like take a shower or clean with nasty chemicals.
  • Like his sister, Spider Bait didn’t like to waste a lot of time sleeping.  So he slept from 10-11 pm to 6-7 am with one one hour nap from 11-12 noon.  And at 15 months he gave up the nap.
  • Also at 15 months he figured out that if he used the tips of his pinky fingers and the tips of his thumbs, hands spread, he could pop the safety guard off the VCR.  From that time on, it was no holds barred on what he would take apart.
  • When we moved into this house we discovered that the dead bolt on the door was also keyed on the inside.  Now who in the hell would use that?  If there was a fire, you had to find a key to get yourself out?  Not likely.  We never used it when we were home.  Then Spider Bait came along.  If there was a way out of the house, he would find it.   I started locking the door from the inside to keep him in.  The basement door was tricky.  The longest item used on the door (no we didn’t put a dead bolt on it) was a spinning door knob thingy that had 2 rubbery spots on the inside that you squeezed to grab the doorknob.  It lasted 4 days.
  • My son saw me yank on the refrigerator door one day.  Eureka!  So THAT’S how you opened it!  And open it he did.  Every single day for I don’t know how long he opened the door and climbed into the fridge and shut the door so he could watch the light go out.  Usually while I was in the shower.  I would take deep breaths and remind myself that he wouldn’t run out of air and suffocate in the 15 minutes it would take me to shower.  No punishment would stop this.  Now imagine me the first time it happened calling from the bathroom when I turned the water off to see what he was doing and getting no answer.  Then me running naked and dripping wet through the house hyperventilating because I couldn’t find him and threatening him for refusing to answer me.  And the near panic when I heard a thump in the fridge.  And there he sat, grinning from ear to ear, thrilled as can be.  You know why kids are cute?  So we don’t kill them for scaring us half to death.
  • Did you know my son smacked himself right between the eyes with the clawed end of a hammer?  At 4 years old my son insisted on ‘helping’ me pound nails in on a project.  My kids have never been much on ‘play’ items.  They have always wanted the ‘real’ things and shunned the others.  And keeping them away from or forbidding them real things meant war.  So I gave him a small hammer and strict instructions.  However, my son has an independent streak a mile wide (no idea where he got that from).  He insisted he was perfectly safe holding the hammer in front of him and his face instead of off to the side.  I told him I didn’t want to hear it if he hit himself in the head.  Which, of course, he did; about 2 seconds after another lecture on use.  He sucked in his breath chin quivering and then tipped his head up so the tears wouldn’t fall and stared right at me without a sound.  I just shook my head at him.

I could go on for hours, but this gives you a good picture of life with my son; never slow, never dull, challenging to say the least.  And he’s funny and quirky and good to talk to and is awesome with kids.  I can’t wait to see him as a father.  Okay, that was a lie.  He’s only 18.  I can wait.

Happy Birthday to my surprise boy child! 

We love you thiiisss much!

Once Upon A Time I Was Immortal or Happy Birthday to Saver of Bugs!

Once upon a time I was immortal.  I raced my parents’ car on the back roads, jumped horses over large obstacles, faced down screaming charging stallions and snarling attacking dogs always confident I would succeed.  And I did.  Once in a while a, “Whew, that was close” would come along, but it didn’t stop me.  I could handle anything.  Right.

I remember exactly when I became horrifically, fearfully mortal. It was the day after my daughter was born. As I held that small, sweet child to my breast, fear put a stake through my heart. What if I did not live long enough to raise my daughter?  Who would take her if her father and I were killed?  I didn’t want her being raised by my family.  I wanted her raised in an atmosphere of tolerance and acceptance no matter who she became. I wanted her to know she would be loved no matter what, no strings attached.  And that being happy was more important than wealth or importance.  I had to live long enough to raise my daughter!

Did this fear ever go completely away?  No.  But Life makes you learn to live with it.  And so did my daughter.  When I took her picture at 3 weeks of age and actually looked at her picture without her there to fog my brain, I realized I was in trouble.  Those eyes were direct and knowing, an old wise woman at 3 weeks of age.

And she wasn’t waiting around for anyone.   At 3 weeks old she quit taking naps.  Yes, you read correctly – 3 weeks old.  Bedtime was from 10 or 11 o’clock to 7 a.m.  There was no time to waste.  When she finally managed to flip herself over (early, of course), there was no sleep for 10 days while she practiced even in her sleep, getting stuck in the corners and howling to be dragged back to the end of the crib to start over.  Nothing would satisfy her till she could roll herself in any direction.  She would have walked at 5 months, but her right foot was crooked and it imbalanced her.  The doctors didn’t want her in shoes so she had to wait till about 9 months old to take off.  And again, there was no peace till she could do a toddle type run, which took about a month.  At which time she never looked back and her poor parents have been playing catch up ever since.

*****

I originally had plans to put up a progression of photos through the years, all right and proper.  But as I started going through them, and finding that some of my photo albums are in the pit of ‘someplace safe’, I realized that it just wasn’t ‘doing it’ for me.  The ‘proper’ pictures weren’t awful, just not ‘right’.  Yes, I wanted the one of her with her new baby brother and the one with her father.  But then I realized what I wanted for this day was her smile.  Her real smile.  The smile a child has that makes her parents willing to slay dragons, to kill or die for their child.  And finding that smile, the smile you see everyday at home, was surprisingly hard to find in pictures.  But I found some that made me smile and made me cry, ‘cause that is my little girl.

(Unfortunately, some scanned better than others, and one was a grainy from school picture.  But they are all my little girl.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAVER OF BUGS!

You bring light and joy into our lives.  We love you heart and soul.

Hugs n Smooches, Your family.

A new baby brother

Dad and his TV buddy

Beautiful even when hot and sweaty

I'm wearing LIP GLOSS! (Parents - Nooooooo!)

First rock wall – “I can so do this!”

Even with her eyes!

That's my girl!

And that's my girl!

Happy Birthday, Sweetie!

This is a present from your brother!

Happy Birthday!