A New Peeve

I only have a few minutes before the pandemonium begins, but I wanted to jot something down real quick so you know I am still alive.
I have recently noticed something that I hope is not a trend. I know I am being petty and there are many more important things for me to be up-in-arms about, but this is really ticking me off. I know there was a Women's Lib movement and many small-breasted women burned their bras to show support (pun intended) for equal rights for women. Maybe I am more Southern than I thought. Men, are you listening? Here it comes...

OPEN THE DOOR FOR A LADY!!!!!

Come on!! I know I can do anything (almost) a man can do, but please open a door for me. It is good manners. Did your mother not teach you manners? I made 3 people, and successfully birthed them, open my door. I could be your mother, sister, daughter, or a stranger. I am a woman, let me off the elevator before you push your way out. If you are on the other side of a glass door at the gas station and you clearly see me coming, open the door for me. DO NOT wait for me to open the door and then push through as if I opened it for you!
Maybe it is because I live in a cold Northern state where chivalry probably never existed. Maybe I should move south again. Maybe we took women's lib too far. My husband says I shouldn't let these little things annoy me. Maybe he's right.
But HE opens the door for me!!!

The Gray Lady

This is a Morgan Family Legend. I have never before tried to write it down as it is a story which needs many hand gestures. I am going to try.
One summer day when Abby was just barely 4 I woke up in a sun-filled room with her in my bed. This was very unusual as Abby has always been independent and needed little in the way of comforting. Michael had already left for work and Luke was still sleeping. As we lingered in our half-sleep state I asked her why she was in my bed. She told me very matter-of -fact-ly that she came to my bed in the middle of the night because there was a lady in her room.
We were living in my grandfather's house at the time. Don't tell anyone, but the windows never locked. Her window was on the back of the house so it would have been very easy for someone to break in during the night, or any other time for that matter. As her mother, this is immediately where my thoughts were going. Someone came into her room in the middle of the night and scared her into getting in my bed.
I began to question her as to what she saw, all the while thinking I was about to get up and call the Police. I tried to keep my voice as pleasant and upbeat as I could so as not to lead her into being scared, which she clearly was not. Abby answered my questions in the manner she would answer my motherly questions like what kind of animal is that or what sound does a cow make.
I asked her if she knew the lady that was in her room. She said no. I asked her what she looked like. She said she was gray. I asked if her hair was gray or her clothes were gray and Abby said she was all gray. Was she fat or thin? She was normal. What did her hair look like? Abby said her hair was short and sticking up. She really just held up her hair to show me that her hair was sticking up. Abby had recently cut off all of her hair and it was still very short. I asked what the lady with the short hair sticking up was doing. Abby said she was standing in an "X". Huh? Abby stood up and held her arms and legs out to make the shape of an "X". Oh. I asked if the lady was looking at Abby and she told me that the lady was facing the wall. Somewhere in that part of the conversation she told me the lady was standing in front of Abby's bookcase. And Abby could see the bookcase THROUGH her!
So I am still thinking this is a real person in my daughter's room in the middle of the night. Very casually I asked how this lady got into her room. She lazily answered that she came in through the window. Just as I thought. I am calling 911. I told Abby that her window was closed and no one could have gotten in. She said the lady didn't have to open the window. She was soft. What do you mean soft? At this point Abby thumped on her chest to show me. "I'm hard. But she was soft so she went through the window."
Now I understood. She literally came through the window. THROUGH THE WINDOW!!! My heart was beating fast. My stomach was in my throat. I start to quickly think of family members who may haunt us. No one, to my knowledge, ever died in the house, around the house, or while living in the house. I could think of no one fitting the description. So we probably didn't know her. Now I had to act normal and calm to my daughter.
What did you do when you saw her? Abby said she closed her eyes tight and then opened them and she was still there, standing in an "X" with her back to Abby. So Abby hid under the covers and then looked out and she was gone. That is when Abby got out of bed and ran down the hall to my room.
That was it. She spoke to me as she would if she were telling me about a show on TV or a friend in the neighborhood. She did not seem scared or nervous in the least. So I nonchalantly told her it was time to get out of bed and have breakfast and that is what we did. I stopped talking to her about it because I was trying very hard not to inject any of my thoughts into her story. I wanted her to remember the incident as she did so she could tell Michael without any prompting from me.
About mid-morning he called to see how we were doing. I told him to talk to Abby and ask her why she was in bed with us. I briefly told him the story so he could ask some of the same questions to see if she kept to her story. I was thinking that if she made it up or dreamed it, maybe the facts would change a bit in the retelling. Besides, it was hours since she had talked about it to me and she was only 4. How would she be able to remember a lie for that long?
Nope. The facts were the same. The details remained. She even put the phone down to "show" Daddy how the lady's hair looked. She still seemed careless and innocent. When she was done telling her story, I took the phone into another room. Her father and I had chills. She had been in Abby's room, she was transparent, she was "soft". She stood in an "X" with her back to Abby. She stayed even after Abby blinked, and only left after Abby hid from her.
I never told Abby what I thought she saw. I made a point to not share any opinions about her Gray Lady. I actually tried to stay away from the subject all day. Later in the afternoon, before Michael came home from work, we were playing and out of the blue Abby said she didn't want to sleep in her room anymore. I asked why. She loved her room and her big-girl bed. She said she didn't want to sleep in her room anymore because she is afraid of ghosts. That was it. That was all she said. She didn't say the Gray lady was a ghost. That word had not been uttered by anyone all day. She just knew it, I guess. Her little 4 year old mind just knew exactly what the Gray Lady was without anyone telling her. And she still did not act scared or even like she understood the impact of what she was saying. Just like the cow says Moo, the Gray Lady was a ghost.
When Michael came home from work, he took her into his lap and started asking her about what she saw again. I think we were still trying to find holes in her story. There were none to be found. She answered the questions exactly the same way as she did the first time they were asked. Truth be told, I think she was getting bored with the subject. Abby did not let her Daddy ask all of the questions this time as she had toys to play with and books to read. After she showed him the shape of the "X", and held her hair up like the Lady's hair, she left the room. That is when I told him that Abby called the Lady a ghost. His first thought was that I had said ghost to her sometime during the day. I assured him that I made a point to NOT say that word. We got chills again.
So as I said before, Abby has always been very independent. She decided to sleep in her room again that night. She stayed in her bed all night and the Gray Lady never came back. But Abby still remembers her. We all do.
I was telling this story to someone many years ago and she said that maybe it wasn't a ghost at all. Maybe the Gray Lady was an angel. Maybe she was standing in that position to block something from seeing or hurting Abby. I love that idea. I want that to be what the Gray Lady was. A guardian angel for my precious baby.

But that is not what Abby said, is it?
She said ghost

Uncertainty

I know that up until now I have tried to keep things lighthearted and carefree, but today I am not feeling that way at all. Yesterday we got some bad news and then we got some really bad news and I am worried, scared, concerned, and really stressed. Most of the stress comes from not being able to control anything that is going on. I hate that. Yes, I'm a control freak, and I admit it.

First, the bad news. Harley is laying off 1100 people. They are closing 2 plants in the Milwaukee area. At least half of the lay offs will be here. Everyone here knows people who work at Harley. We all have friends who work there. One of our best friends works there. He has been there a few years, but at Harley that puts him down at the bottom of the totem pole. Most people that work there have been there for many many years. He hasn't heard yet about when or even if he will be let go, but I am so worried about it. I'm sure they are very worried, too. We just love that family and would not want this hardship to fall on them. We are sending good thoughts and prayers over to Pewaukee.

Then the really bad news. Someone very close to my husband was let go from his employer yesterday. That man's family has had a very recent death and then he had to go home and tell his family that he was asked to resign. I feel so much for them right now. He was pretty high up the food chain and we all know it is hard to find a job right now, let alone one in upper management. We are hoping he got some sort of severance package to keep his family afloat until something good happens for them.

Why is this really bad news for us? It is possibly too early for me to say anything, but it could mean change for our family is in the future. Change for some of us is exciting and new, but it also has a scary and unknown side. We feel pretty settled down here and my children feel this is home and no where else will do, but change is coming. We can almost feel it.

Not to mention we have recently received our statements from our investments for the last quarter of 2008. We have lost THOUSANDS of dollars. I know all of you have too, but to actually see it on paper is so disheartening. We have time before retirement to make it up and I am hopeful that our stock market will rebound. I keep reminding myself that after the Great Depression in the 1930's came the affluence of the 1950's. There is always hope.

So I will try to remain upbeat. I will keep plugging away at raising my children to be happy, independent adults. I will remain dedicated to my husband and try to keep him from falling into a cycle of worry and fear of the unknown. That is about all I can control at this point and I will have to make that enough. I'm sure you are all feeling the crunch, also. If we can just hang in there, I know it will be over soon.
There is my hope.

February is Broken Bone Month

February is coming and as a mother of Isaac Daniel Morgan I am apprehensive, to say the least.
Two years ago, in February, we were at the mall for a fund raiser for Children's Hospital. Michael took Isaac to the Food Court to get something to eat. He was 3, almost 4, and he was kneeling in the chair with his feet through the space at the bottom of the back of the chair. Well, it fell over and the chair came down HARD on his little foot. He cried and they put ice on it, but he calmed down and seemed to be OK. He had a bump on his foot, but we thought it was just swollen and the swelling would go down in a day or so.
Well, the next day we found out he had pneumonia. This was the second time he had it in 5 months. He got pretty sick, but we put him on a regimen of antibiotics and inhalers (yes, more than one) and in about a week he seemed to be doing better. They started slipping in the word "asthma" every once in a while, but no one would come right out and say that is what he had. Finally we saw one of the older Md's in the practice who told me outright that Isaac has asthma now and until further notice would be treated for it. That was pretty shocking to me since he has been so healthy otherwise.
So he was feeling better and wanted to leave the house for a bit one day. So, for the first time in about a week, I tried to put a shoe on him. Keep in mind that he had been walking and sometimes running while he was sick. When I tried the shoe he said it hurt. I took off his sock and the bump in his foot from the fall was still there.
We went straight to the Dr. who sent us to Children's for x-ray. that is when we found out he had broken a bone in his right foot. I felt HORRIBLE!! We went upstairs to the orthopedist to get it looked at and maybe get a cast. They not only said he needed a cast, but they said he probably didn't need it too long since "it had been healing for 12 days before you brought him in". Oh my goodness. I thought they would call social services to take him away from me right then and there.
They put a cast on him from toes to below knee. He thought it was cool and my heart was broken. It hurt a little, but not as much as me trying to put a shoe on him.
After a couple of weeks, we went back to have the cast taken off. They x-rayed him again and it was not healed yet so they put another cast on. After a few more weeks, he got the cast off, but was sent home with a boot to wear at all times. You could always tell when he was coming down the hall--step-thump-step-thump.

So other than treating him for the asthma, we had a pretty calm year. Then last February we were at a friend's house and Isaac and their little boy, Alex were playing in the Living Room. Suddenly Alex came running in to us and said he thought Isaac was hurt. We went to Isaac, who hides when he is hurt or angry, and had to pull him out of his hiding spot. He was clutching his foot and crying. We put ice on it and I held him tight. I knew it was broken. I just knew it. Michael said we should wait until morning and see how he felt. He was now 4, almost 5.
We went to the Dr who sent us to xray where they found he had broken 4 bones in his left foot. He jumped from a landing that was up 5 steps onto a slick tile floor. He must have landed on his foot sideways because the fractures were, I think they said, compression fractures.
So I had to take him upstairs again and get another cast on. We saw the same doctors and cast people and they all remembered us from the last time we got a cast. I was a bit embarrassed, but at least I didn't wait 12 days this time.
He had his cast on for a few weeks this time and then had to wear a boot for a few weeks.
Here it is a year later and we know that something is brewing. I hope nothing really bad happens. I am nervous and if I start to think about it, I get scared. When we see him doing something a little dangerous we tell him to stop it because it is not February yet. And I took him to the DR. Monday of this week for a rash and I told him we would most likely see him next month. Just prepare yourself for the worst and be happy if nothing happens. Just in case you are worried, there is nothing wrong with his bones, just his judgement.

Randomness

I thought I would care about who reads this and how many people read it. I don't. It has really become more of an outlet for me than anything else. I do not even know if my own hubby reads my blog. It doesn't matter because I tell him everything anyways. When I try and keep things to myself, it boils up in me and I just have to get it out. At least with him, that is.
My thoughts are going to wander a bit. Chrissy wants me to tell you the story of the Grey Lady. It is long and a little scary so I will keep that for another time when I have time to write it down. I am actually surprised I haven't written that one down before, but alas it is a long story.
Today I am feeling nostalgic. When we moved here, it was a fresh start. We weren't really friends with, well, anyone at the time. We had each other and we had Luke and that is all we needed. So we moved up here to get a new start on our new family. We wanted to venture out on our own. We did and we became a stronger family unit because of it. Michael and I had only each other for company so that is who we turned to for everything. Together we got through some tough times and we came out the other end closer and more in love than when we started.
Making friends in Wisconsin proved to be a challenge. Most of the people we met were born and raised here. They went to college here. Now they live and work here. They have had the same friends since they were in Kindergarten together. It was difficult for us to find anyone who would let us into that close circle. We did, however find friends and we have some close friends that we cherish very much.
BUT, (you knew there was a but here, right)...it is hard sometimes. We have been here for 14 years now. When we go out for drinks or when we get together with friends, we never reminisce. We don't really have anything to reminisce about.
Now that we are all on Facebook and the like I miss having people that I have known forever. I miss talking to people that can help me remember some of the things I have forgotten (which is a lot of things, by the way). I would like to be one of the people that have known my friends since Kindergarten. I would like to play "remember when". Not all the time because that is tiresome. But sometimes.
It would be nice to know the people who married the people I have known for a long time. For instance, I have a friend who was one of my first friends when we moved to Tyler. That was in 1979. She was so nice to me then. Thanks to Facebook we have reconnected and she is still so nice. I would love to know her husband and her two beautiful daughters. But I live in WinterLand. It is just too far away now.
And that is not even counting the sisters and brothers that we miss. Whew! could I tell you about how much we miss them? It would take way too long. But you get my drift.
So I am feeling nostalgic for The Homeland.
And I am wondering why in the world we allowed our 15 year old son to get an electric guitar.
Random enough for ya?

Donuts Through the WIndow

I had totally forgotten about this until my sister, Chrissy, reminded me. We used to live in an older home where my mother and her sisters actually grew up. We were fortunate enough to become close with our next door neighbors for a while. The way our houses were situated, the back of our house was about 10 feet from their driveway. We had two side yards, a front yard, and the backyard was basically their driveway.
Luke is my oldest at 15. He has always had his own room and it had a window that faced the back of the house. So his window always faced the neighbor's house and driveway. Without his parents knowing, he would open his window and sometimes even crawl out of it and run around outside. It being an older house without a basement, the window was pretty low to the ground so this wasn't a real concern.
One day, probably a Saturday or Sunday, my husband and I were in the living room relaxing. Luke comes into the room with a dirty mouth and half a donut in his hand. Our first thought was that the last time we bought donuts Luke hid one in his room and just found it. So we jumped up to take it away from him. He wouldn't let us have it and when asked where he got it he told us he got it from the window.
Huh? He got a donut from the window?! So we went to his room and looked out and saw nothing. There was no one out there. We thought it was strange and took the donut from him and put it on the counter.
Later in the day he came in with ANOTHER donut. Now we were thinking it must be a joke or some trick. Again we went to the window and saw nothing but an open window.
That evening we were outside visiting as we normally did in the neighborhood, and our next-door neighbor made a comment to Luke about the donuts. As we found out, he had been passing them to Luke through his open window. Our neighbor, Jeff, thought it was pretty funny that we didn't know it was him. It was pretty funny.
Jeff also used to catch mice alive in his house and take them across the street to let them go. When I asked him sarcastically where he thought the mice were going when he let them go he said, "To your house, I hope."

Socks!

So I have been writing down ideas wherever and whenever they strike for this blog. My sister has helped me with a few ideas I had even forgotten. I will get to those I promise. But first I have to fill you in on what's up here lately.
We joined the YMCA. We needed a place to go as a famliy so we are not quite so blobbish anymore. Well, I couldn't work out the first day because I had thrown away my sneakers, tennis shoes, athletic shoes, whatever. They were old and left over from Home Depot days so they went in the trash a couple of months ago. This was really not a problem as I never exercise anyway.
Well, I had to go buy some shoes yesterday which worked well because they are all on sale now because there are so many of us blobs out there who say we are going to stop being a blob on January 1. While I was trying on shoes, I noticed that the shoes were white and my socks were not. At all. White. So I walked over to the hosiery department and lo and behold athletic socks were on sale too! Those retailers really know how to get to you. So, I bought a bunch of new socks. They are white. They are really white. And I love them.
Now back in the day i had what some would call a sock fettish. I loved socks. I remember finding a store one time in a mall that only sold socks and I thought that was my heaven. Well, I grew out of it as I started doing my own laundry and realized how hard it is to match all those socks.
But NEW SOCKS are the best. I thought I was the only one who felt like this until I started asking. My son loves new socks. My husband loves new socks. My friends love new socks. They are clean and white. They are tight and not stretched out yet. And they usually fit like a glove. I know you are thinking right now that I have thought way too hard about my socks, but you must admit that you love the feeling of new socks too.
So I haven't gone to exercise yet, but now I have the shoes and the socks so I have no more excuses.