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A Family Story

A Mother's Day Story

Of course, with Mother's Day this Sunday,and all the ads reminding us how great Mothers are...let me add a REAL Mother's Day story.

Thursday, I had gotten up LATE at 5 am. I had been awake from 3-4 am, was supposed to get up at 4:30 am, but of course, had finally fallen asleep and then had woken up late at 5.

So I hurriedly got ready and then drove 1 hour to get to the Business and Industrial Breakfast. We toured a manufacturing company and then I was invited to go visit with someone I had just met.

We went out and visited. After that, I had to go to court house for some planning stuff, then went to Chamber of Commerce for another errand.

On the way home, I stopped at a business to see about employment opportunity for a friend. I got home just in time to make a few calls, grab my hard copy of my dissertation and then ran out the door as my Mom was in the car, honking the horn, because she was late for her hair appointment.

I worked on making changes to my dissertation while she was in the salon, but I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I remember waking up and wondering where I was.

After I got mom home. I did a batch of laundry, made some more calls. Cleaned my Mom's potty. Pulled out leftovers and remade them for that night's meal.

The children came home from school and I spent time going over stuff, making sure chores done, animals outside fed, etc.

Some friends called and his wife is headed out of country so they wanted to know if we wanted to go out and eat before she left. My husband was home from school so we went.

We got back and then went to the School Choir Concert. Came home and had one of "THOSE" discussions with my 17 year old daughter, because of something my husband had heard...

Well, now it is about 9:30 at night and I am washing the (MYSTERY) dishes....I call them the mystery dishes because everyone claims they have washed their dishes, but there are always dishes that need to be washed...

Well I am washing the dishes and my 22 year old son comes in and wants me to do something for him the next day (and it is something that he can easily do for himself) and I tell him that I have to work on my school work and pay bills as I am way behind.

And he says to me,"How is it that you are always behind? Aren't you supposed to be such a Time Management/ Organizational Guru?

NO--I did not say what I was really thinking!! I just told him, "You have NO idea what I even do each day or how much I accomplish so you need to be really careful what you say."

He did admit he really doesn't know what I do.

Yesterday, I received flowers in the mail and a card from Douglas and his family. Douglas is married, has a child, and is working full-time and going to school at night. Douglas is starting to "see" just all that is required.

A beautiful card of gracious gratitude.

Mom's--Don't worry...time and experience WILL change their perspective.


and especially to those who have "blind" teens

and to those who have not been able to have heart goes out to you...I am so sorry for your will someday have all denied present blessings...

A Mother's Day Fill-in-the-Blank Card

For Mother's Day last week, Rebeca (age 6) brought home a fill-in-the-blank card she had done at school with her teacher.

Mother's Day 2010

My mom is the most wonderful mom in the world. Her name is Tammy. She's pretty as a mom.

She is 17 years old. She has brown eyes and brownish hair.

She weighs 17 pounds and is 10 ft. tall. Her favorite food is everything. In the good old days when she was little, she used to (she never told me). I think my mom is funny when she makes faces. But I know she's really angry when she gets angry. I wouldn't trade my mom for a dog. I love my mom because she forgives me.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

Love, Rebeca

Well, to get another perspective, I asked my 17 year old daughter, Maria, to fill one out:

Mother's Day 2010

My mom is the most wonderful mom in the world. Her name is Tammy. She's pretty as a Peony.

She is 49 years old. She has blue eyes and dirty blond hair.

She weighs 160 pounds and is 5' and 51/2" tall. Her favorite food is everything. In the good old days when she was little, she used to beat up her brother. I think my mom is funny when she doesn't makes faces. But I know she's really angry when she gets red in the face. I wouldn't trade my mom for anything. I love my mom because she's my mom.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

Love, Maria

I then had David, 13, and Elizabeth 10, came in and wanted to do it too.

David said I was as pretty as a chicken, Liz said swan. Below is a Peony, one of my favorite flowers. Maria wins on that!!

They did a better job on my weight and height, although Elizabeth said I was 6 ft. tall. Maria was right again. And OF COURSE, Rebeca is right on my weight!

On the funny part, Rebeca and Elizabeth like my funny faces, but they embarrass Maria--what is a mother to do? David said he likes my laugh.

As for my eyes, they are actually, Hazel, and change colors. While Maria was filling it out, she came in and grabbed my face, lifted up my glasses, and said, "What color ARE your eyes?" David asked me and Elizabeth just said blue. The last 3 to 4 years, they have mainly stayed blue. I told Fito (my husband), I need to have surgery so people can see my eyes! My own children don't know what color they are!

Food. I do not have favorite food, but Elizabeth came really close when she said: chocolate chip mint ice cream. David guessed: mac and cheese, but he was wrong.

Maria's right. I did beat up my brother. Or---did he beat me up? David said I wore BIG glasses, which I did in the 80s when I was first married. Is that when I was little? I guess to him--

On the angry part; David said my glasses start to shake, Elizabeth said I yell. Maria noted I get red in the face. Whew!! That doesn't sound pretty. I guess I had better repent.

But they all love me. Rebeca wouldn't trade me for a dog, and she loves dogs. Elizabeth wouldn't trade me for a horse. And that is saying a lot as she has had a fascination with horses since before she could even talk. She would point to horses or even find them in drawings or landscapes and point them out. She had to have horse toys, horse stuffed I am very privileged not to be traded for a horse.

Maria's Pee

One time when Maria was about two. We had just gotten home from an activity and everyone jumped out of the van. The four older boys all lined up over by the side of the house and started relieving themselves.

Maria looked at them, pulled down her panties and did the same. She started crying when the plumbing did not work the same and everything was running down her legs.

Of course, her Dad and the boys were all laughing and Mom had to rescue her (while hiding her amusement).

It is still one of our favorite stories to tell about Maria to see her reaction's okay...she knows this is here...I guess that's all part of growing up in such a large family...not a lot of privacy, but a whole lot of love.

Felipe's: A Bird's and the Bee's Question

When Felipe was about 3 years-old, he came in while I was bathing with Maria, and Elizabeth. He started to undress as he wanted to join us in the bathtub.

I was getting out, and for whatever reason, Maria and Elizabeth stood up, too.

So us three females were all standing in a row and Felipe was naked, standing near us.

He looked at us and then looked down at himself.

He then looked up at me and asked,

"Mommy? When did yours break off?"


Now today as Maria came in and saw David doing a breathing treatment, she reminded me of something that Matthew said a few years ago.

Matthew had come into the kitchen for breakfast and saw Felipe, sitting at the table, doing a breathing treatment. He also saw Benjamin injecting himself with a needle. (Benjamin has Juvenile Diabetes).

Matthew then went around telling everyone,

"What a family I have!

I come in the kitchen to eat breakfast, and one brother is smoking a bong, and the other is shooting up!!"


Becoming self-reliant is a never ending process and adventure.

The adventure part being you never know what will happen when city raised individuals try their hand at raising animals, gardening, canning, and so forth.

As a young girl, I fell in love with the Laura Ingalls Wilder books and read them many times. I also read "My Side of the Mountain" and other wilderness adventure books.

My dream was to go live in Alaska after I was married, and homestead the land and be totally self-reliant.

In 1988, I found myself pregnant with Matthew. Douglas was 2 and Tony was 4.

I, the city girl, was living on 40 acres in rural SE Kansas. We had various animals we were raising, but up to that point, it had always been my husband that had done the butchering.

We had a turkey we were ready to eat, but Fito had been busy with school and work, and had not gotten around to butchering him.

So, in my grandiose vision of being the perfect "country" wife, I decided this day that I would surprise my hubby and have a complete "Thanksgiving" style dinner waiting for him when he came home that day.

I took the two boys outside, found the hatchet, and we caught the turkey. I thought the boys could hold him down, but the turkey was too strong.

What happened is that I had to sit down on the thing, while Douglas held the head and Tony swung the hatchet.

For all of you who have butchered animals before--that are now laughing so hard--- you know exactly just how hard it is to chop off the head of a "determined -to-live" large Tom.

Poor Tony had to keep chopping and chopping, while blood splattered all over toddler Douglas and very pregnant me!

The ending?

We came off conquerers and had a beautiful turkey dinner that night.

(But I have never butchered again! And maybe that's why we can go play mountain man for awhile, but then you can come home to air conditioning and indoor plumbing!!)

David's ER Visit

Last night at 11:30 pm, David came to us and said he was having a hard time breathing. He had already used his inhaler, but was still struggling to catch a breath.

I quickly set up our breathing machine and had him take a breathing treatment. It didn't help and he was worsening so I finally decided to take him to the emergency room.

I used to be an EMT, so these types of thing do not faze me, but on the way, he worsened, and so I speeded up.

It was now 12:30 am and I saw only two other cars on the road. As I came down the hill on Highway 9, in front of the casino, I saw flashing lights in my rear view mirror.

I pulled over. The policeman came up, I explained where I was headed and the officer asked if I wanted him to call an ambulance.

I said that I could reach the hospital quicker than the ambulance could even reach me, and that I just needed to go.

He asked to see my license. I gave it to him, then he asked for the insurance and registration. I gave those to him, Then, if you can believe it, he went to his vehicle.

We sat there and sat there. David started to get worse (he had started to ease up, but then got bad again) so I put my arm out the window and waved frantically to try to get the officer to come back.

He finally did, and was talking to me, and I was thinking, "Well, if you are not going to let me go, I had better get an ambulance here." So I told him to call 911.

Some firemen came first and took vitals. The attack had eased up, and David was breathing better, but the fireman said his lungs sounded really thick.

The officer then came up and issued me a citation. Yes, a citation! Do not get me wrong, I was guilty. I was going 69 in a 45, but to be honest, the officer acted with improper protocol.

(That is why companies have to hire someone like me to try to instill some common sense into their employees...The city could be sued over such poor procedure...)

As an EMT, I worked with the finest people society has produced. To be a public servant is a thankless, tireless job, that few could do.

However, to detain someone that is en route to the hospital is let me finish my story...

The ambulance arrived about 10 minutes later, and by that time David's attack had eased after using his inhaler and he was even able to speak, but I still felt like he needed to go to the hospital, and that now that there was an ambulance, that he should go with them, where there was oxygen, etc.

However, the men suggested four different times that as he was stable, I could get him there as well, and so did I want to sign the waver?

I did, and as I headed on to Norman, David had another outright horrible attack. He was struggling for every breath he took. In between jagged breaths he wheezed, "Mom, ...I...think....I....pass...out!

You could see the fear in his eyes, and I was thinking, "If he passes out. I will call 911 and then perform CPR until they get there." I was also screaming at myself in my head for not going with my gut instinct, and not having sent him in the ambulance.

Of course, we made it and everything turned out okay.

(And of course, IF the officer had NOT detained me, I would have been at the hospital before the second attack ever started.)

We finally made it back home a little after 3 am.

So the moral of the story is: Mothers--you are ordained of God to be the mother of that child. He will always guide you as you live and do the best you can for that child. Do NOT let anyone else influence you to go against what you feel is best.

This seems to happen to me about once or twice a year, and every time I think, "Why, do I listen to others!!"

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