Monday Pictures

Aunt Modean

Back in grad school, I wrote a paper about my great-aunt, Modean. It's an incredibly sad story that I discovered while digging through my grandma's cedar chest. (Everyone's grandma has a cedar chest, right?) Anyway, I found a stack of letters my Aunt Modean wrote to my grandma back in the 40's when they were both young women--Modean was just 25, and Grandma was even younger. I was intrigued by what I read and wanted to find out more. Luckily, the next semester of grad school, the professor in one of my courses wanted us to write a paper about lost freedoms. I saw my opportunity to do some research and put the pieces of Modean's story together. My professor, Dr. Earl Schrock, who is a jewel of a man not to mention teacher, thought I should try to submit the paper for publication. I didn't agree, but relented a bit and sent it to a small historical society that was relevant to the story. Anyway... I knew the paper was still floating somewhere out there on the web, but yesterday I realized it was still up on the website. The paper concerns tuberculosis, and apparently, many people relate to the story... and as a result, they haven't taken it down. Now, keep in mind, this was written in grad school, and as I re-read it, I cringe at all the stuff I'd like to go back and re-write. BUT it's a great story, though very, very, very sad. It's sort of long, and boring in parts, but I thought I'd share, especially for my family who read this blog and may not know Modean's story.

So, CLICK HERE, then scroll down to the FEATURED ITEMS OF INTEREST SECTION (under 'White Squirrels and Old Home Remedies!!), and you'll find it there.

Crying over spilled formula

For anyone having to buy baby formula, you know it costs five gazillion dollars a can. (No, I'm not a breast-feeder. Yes, I know I'm going to hell for it, so please no don't leave me a comment and remind me of my impending fate.) So today I was already having a difficult day. I go to make Jeb a bottle and drop the entire can of powdered gold onto the floor. I spent the next 15 minutes delicately pinching up every last bit I could that I thought hadn't touched the floor and putting it back into the can. Then I looked into the can and noticed two cat hairs and an unidentified black speck. Arrrggh! I gave up and threw the entire thing into the trash. The next 5 minutes I spent weeping on my kitchen floor. I'm better now and can almost laugh about it. Almost. (And yes, darn it, I took a picture.)

Distraction

This afternoon, I had big plans for writing. I was going to finish a chapter no matter what. I put Jeb in his walker and left him in the living room with his sisters watching cartoons. I told them, "Watch your brother." I was committed. Dedicated. No matter what, I was going to.... (2 minutes and 14 seconds later, this comes walking in...) My camera sits next to my keyboard. This is what I turned and saw. Writing session over. Very cute, my little perpetual distraction.

Estella Dru

Drusy posed for this picture yesterday afternoon for the promise of a brownie. She got two.

Cell Phone Blunder

I am just not that mom who gives her kids anything they want. #1) Because I couldn't if even I wanted to and #2 and mainly) because I love them more than anything in this world and refuse to equip them with the belief that the universe and everything in it (including me) revolves around them. It doesn't. I don't. As a result of my refusal to raise little narcissists, the words "No, honey," can be heard quite often around our home. But.... I just didn't see this one coming. My 6 month old has a love affair my cell phone. LOVES it. Here's a squeaky toy, Jeb... here's a warm, delicious bottle.... here's a really bright, colorful, yummy chewy something..... No. He prefers the hard, silver, no-flavor-whatsoever cell phone.

So, last night on the way home from church, he spotted the phone in my hand. He cried. I said 'no'. (In a sweet baby voice, of course.) He cried some more. I handed it to him. My first mistake. My second mistake was not taking it away from him once we got home. By the time I got to it, I might as well have thrown it into Lake Fayetteville because it was drenched... and I mean soaked through and through in baby slobber and dead as a doornail. Bye bye, cell phone.

Needless to say, I've learned my lesson. No more cell phones to babies. Here's a few pictures of him relishing his victory and hard-sought prize.

Addis

... a shot I got today of Sweet Addis while his mommy and brother and sister were at the doctor. The camera died before I got one of Sophie. (Next time, Soph, I promise.)