20 Years Later and I'm Finally Not Looking Back Quite so Hard

Today used to be a day that I watched for on the calendar. Watched for it. Waited for it to. And dreaded its arrival. The whole month of February used to cause me lots of stress (for many reasons that happened in a succession of years after the thing that happened on the 21st).

20 years ago, the 21st was a Tuesday, I believe. I was at college and was getting ready for a 4 way mixer (2 sororities and 2 fraternities)...it was going to be a blast - we even had a t-shirt printed for this one! I had eaten dinner and went back to my room to primp. My mother called. We chatted about the goings on of the day, and the Mixer that awaited me that night. Her call waiting beeped, and since this was the days before caller ID, she decided to let me go get finished with my party preparation and go see who was calling on the other line. So we said our "I love you's" and went about our ways.

I arrived at the party, began drinking some beer (not quite legal, but I was close enough know one said anything), dancing and taking pictures with my friends with the "Flash" (photographer) who was there. The party hadn't been going for too long when someone told me that Bryan was looking for me.

Now this took me by surprise, because we weren't mixing with Bryan's fraternity. Why in the world was Bryan here? This was really odd. They wouldn't let him into the party because he was not an invited guest, so I had to go the front for him. The look on his face was very serious. My mind kept wondering why he looked so seriously serious. We hadn't been arguing, no fighting, but my mind kept wondering why in the world he was picking a mixer as the appropriate place to break up with me. And what had happened for him to even want to break up with me?

I simply couldn't get my mind around it. Plus, I had just started catching a buzz, he was going to ruin that for sure.

So, as I get to the front, show him my surprise at him being there, and then try to get him to come into the party, he gently tells me that he needs to talk to me. I say o.k., let's talk. To which he tells me we should probably go outside. He's being very tender, not at all like he's getting ready to dump me, but my mind is still on the "what is he going to do, dump me?" train of thought.

So we go to the parking lot, and he somehow tells me (this is kind of blurry) that my dad has had a heart attack and that we need to go home.
....
....
....

Wait. Did he just say that my dad had a heart attack?! I was just on the phone with my mother and she didn't say anything (turns out that call waiting was the frantic phone call from a collegue of my father's that they had called 911 because they thought he was having a heart attack). Why would Bryan know and not me? Is Dad alive? When did this happen? How am I going to get home? Do I need to call my mom? Where is my mom? Is my brother with her?

Oh, so many questions. And Bryan didn't know how to answer them. All he could say is that my mom had called and needed him to come get me so that I could come home. At the time she called Bryan, Bryan thought Dad was alive. But I could tell he wasn't really sure.

So somehow I find myself back in my room on the phone trying to reach my my mom. I somehow get to the CICU waiting room. I don't recall how I got the information to even get the number to that phone or how I even knew which hospital to call. Bryan may have had that information. Before I can actually get to Mom, I remember that my Godparent's answered and told me that he was alive. They asked me how I was and then passed the phone to my brother. I knew I would get the straight scoop from him. He was 4 years younger than me and a Junior in High School at the time.

Joe sounded awful. Simply awful. He told me that Dad was alive. But when I asked if I needed to come home (tonight or could it wait until tomorrow), without hesitation he said that I had to come home RIGHT NOW.

Oh no. I don't even remember if I got to talk with mom or not. Everything got really blurry.

My mind started racing. I had a lot to get together so that I could get on the road ASAP. Bryan has said he would drive me ...I didn't need to be driving. Not only because I had recently had a few beers, but because it was late and it was a 4 hour drive to get home. I had to let my roommate and suitmates know that I was going home and that I didn't know when I would come back. Oh, and that I also wouldn't be attending our Sorority's formal in Atlanta this weekend.

I think I finally got home somewhere around 4:00 am. And when I say home, I mean the hospital. The 4 hour ride hadn't taken quite that long - Bryan had a good lead foot. Don't forget that 20 years ago was before all college kids had cell phones (it was even a big deal for parents to have cells at this particular time), so during this long ride home I had no updates on Dad's condition. Had he gotten better? Had things turned sour? Or had he really been dead this whole time and no one wanted to tell me over the phone?

I had no idea what the news was going to be when I arrived at the hospital.

I found my way through the maze of halls and up to the CICU, where the waiting room was full of loved ones. I think Momma and Joe were in the room (but they could have been somewhere else at this particular moment in time). I think my Godparent's were in the room. But I really don't remember who was there. I think it was Joe that I saw first. I think I burst into tears. Please, someone tell me if my Daddy is still here! That was all I could think.

I was relieved when I found that he was still with us. And apparently doing fine. I think there were more tears. The nurse found out that I was "the patient's" daughter, and she broke the "only every 4 hours" visitor rule and let me go in to see Dad. Mostly because Dad had been asking a lot about me. He was worried about how long (and how late) Bryan and I were on the road, and she knew it would ease his stress level (which would be good for his heart). So, the wonderful nurse let me in the see my Daddy.

My mom was the true Steel Magnolia. She did all the right Mom things. Hugs and kisses and lots of reassurance that Daddy was fine. She also warned me about all of the hoses, tubes, needles and machines that Dad was hooked up to. She didn't want me to be alarmed. She also cautioned me that I needed to be careful if I hugged him because his chest was burned from the 11 (yes, that was ELEVEN) different times they had to hit him with the defibrillator to keep him from leaving us.

Holy Cow! This was a much bigger heart attack than I was thinking it was.

So as I enter the room, I am relieved to see Daddy smiling at me. I think we're all a bit upset, but I was trying very hard not to be crying when I went into his room. I didn't want to upset him (most of you know what a great crier I am).

And Mom was right, there were more tubes, hoses, cuffs, and beeping machines than I had ever seen in anyone's hospital room before. And it was HOT in there. They had apparently pumped so much blood thinner in Dad, that at this point, his blood was running ICE. I swear it was every bit of 80 degrees. And even under about 4 thermal blankets he was still shivering.

Of course I hugged and kissed Daddy. Deep inside I was kind of afraid to touch him, I don't want to hurt him, or knock covers off of him and make him cold. He and Mom showed me how strong his heart looked on the monitor. He showed me where all of the monitor leads were hooked, and the bruises and burns on his chest (while kind of laughing I might add). And mostly he just looked like my dad. Only he was hooked up like he was in an ER-type TV show.

And then it hit me. I almost lost my Dad. I could have arrived and found my dad not here. At this point I had been running on adrenaline since about 9:00 or 10:00 (whatever time it was when Bryan came to get me). And the adrenaline decided to turn in to a rush of relief. And this rush decided to come over me as I stood there in Dadd's room. And I almost passed out.

That's right. I was trying not to stress out Dad, and here I go, almost monkey-ing in his room. I'm going to blame it on the heat in there. Did I tell you how hot it was in there? After I got a cold cloth (and I think some smelling salts, but I may be remember a part of a different hospital room story that I'll try to remember to write about later), I got myself together enough to try to keep it light and laugh at myself so that Dad wouldn't have to be worried about me of all things. And that's when I tried to have a moment of comic relief. And that's when I outed with, "Daddy, you know if you had done this 24 hours earlier, I could have saved the $6.00 I spent today at the Laundry Mat." (of course meaning that I could have brought all of that dirty laundry home instead.) I think it worked - we all laughed.

And that is what we still all laugh about today. Although today almost went by without me calling Dad. I actually saw him today and forgot to tell him Happy February Birthday. And when we did talk, he reminded me that next year he'll be legal. Good Ol' Dad!

20 years after a major heart attack, with no other cardiac events to follow, is a pretty big milestone I say. Along the way, he stopped smoking, was invited to DC to receive the Ecotrin Heart Award a few years later (the actual award was an amber colored, Bacarat crystal heart), and has lived to see both of children get married and become parents.

Happy February Birthday, Daddy!

(And if anyone wonders the reason for the heart attack...in short, an allergic reaction. To drinking non-stop coffee and smoking non stop packs of cigarettes as he got through the long hours of working around the clock to keep a television station on the air - and equipment repaired in it - after Hurricane Hugo hit in September, just a few months before.

It was so much nicotine and caffeine that he had basically saturated his body and his heart finally had an allergic reaction to all of it. No blockages. No bi-passes. Just no more nicotine and no more all day caffeine.)

Happy 11th!

Happy, Happy day to you, Julia! We all love you very much...there is no way it has been 11 years, has it? You are growing into such a wonderful young lady (of course you are, you were already a wonderful little girl).Happy Birthday!

Go Scorpions! Go Julia!

My American Girl is Named Julia

I picked her up from school early. She was brought to the office not knowing I was there to pick her up...she wasn't really sure why she was in the office, she was just going with the flow. The receptionist pretended to be on the phone and handed her the American Girl magazine to look through while Julia waited for her to get off the phone. When I came around the corner this is the look I got when I asked her if she was ready to go to the American Girl Bistro.
This is what happened when she realized we're leaving RIGHT NOW, and on a plane! (a few happy tears in case you can't tell in the picture) . . .


This is the first time she can remember being on a plane (she was about 15 months old during her last flight). She was very excited!

When we landed I took her to eat at the Benihana's Japanese steak house that was down the street from our hotel. This is the birthday hat they made for her and had her wear as they sang Happy Birthday.


The next morning we woke, showered and got ready to go eat breakfast at the Bistro. The empty (clean) table was ours. Notice all of the pink and shades of purple. Any girl's paradise.
Here are some shots of the cute lighting fixtures around the restaurant. . .
This is us enjoying our breakfast. We (and Melanie - the doll) had complimentary strawberry muffins. Julia had the largest chocolate milk I've ever seen served to a child (already cleared in the picture).

The doll even got her own chair and menu too. Then after breakfast, Julia was served a birthday ice cream sundae, complete with chocolate sauce, sprinkles, a Happy Birthday song from everyone in the restaurant and two spoons (yay me!).



This is Julia waiting on her doll, Melanie, to get the "do" of the month and her ears pierced. That's Melanie in the pink/orange outfit almost behind Julia.
All finished with hair and ear piercing (the dolls...Julia's were pierced several years ago - not on this day). Now we're ready to shop in the Boutique!



An hour or so later, we were all finished shopping. Birthday presents included a new doll "Julie", a new winter outfit, shoes, and new earrings (all for the doll of course). The sticker on Julia's shirt was from breakfast and says "It's My Birthday" (it's really this coming Tuesday). I might add that "Julie" is the new historical character from 1974. She has all of the things I had as a child. Makes you feel kind of old when the new historical character is from your childhood. I am not historic! (ha)



Now we're ready to go hit the mall and kill some time before a late lunch and time to travel back to the airport.




There was a beautiful carousel in the mall. The cute frog and it's duck, lady bug and flowers caught her eye. We laughed and said this was the AFLAC frog.

So she rode it.

This is us trying on cute feathery headbands in "Icing" and taking our pictures in the mirrors over head. We had fun pretending we were divas in these things.


This is just a cute shot of her coming out of one of the stores - I just couldn't resist posting this one.



When we went back to the Bistro's dessert counter to have an afternoon ice cream treat. The store allowed Julia to pick a doll to join us since our bags were already in the car. Julia chose this cute thing. She got her own muffin again. Julia didn't eat it this time...her ice cream float filled her up.




This is Julia enjoying her "Black Cow" root beer float. One scoop vanilla, one scoop chocolate, chocolate sauce, and of course root beer. She loved it.



At the end of the day, we drove back to return the rental car and patiently waited for the shuttle to take us to the airport. Julia enjoyed caring her big red bag with her new stuff in it. We both truly enjoyed ourselves. We laughed, we giggled and we tired each other out. This was the best gift ever! And it wasn't even mine. Seeing her smile and glow from excitement these two days was enough to warm my heart for a long time. I highly recommend something like this. Start saving those sky miles now!

And the Next Birthday is.....

The Next Birthday is Julia's (Sept. 15).

So this is what I have cooking for Julia's birthday...
She's turning 11 and still likes American Girl dolls. And even though she wants a Nintendo DSi she would love to go to the American Girl Experience or the American Girl Bistro (basically anywhere she can travel by plane I think would be fine too. And since I've driven around Atlanta before, not Chicago or NYC - Atlanta is what I chose for such a quick trip).

So, since we've accumulated LOTS of sky miles over the years of using the Amex, I decided that I'm going to (surprise) take her to Atlanta next weekend to go to the American Girl Bistro. I have booked the plane, the rental car, the hotel and our breakfast at "The Bistro". I have even gotten the teachers to ok a surprise early dismissal from school. The only thing I have left undone is where we will eat on Friday night (there's a Bennihana's right around the corner from the hotel. There is also a gracious plenty other fun looking restaurants around, so there should be no problem to pick something she will think is a fun thing ).

I am so excited I can hardly stand it. I think what I will do is pick her up from school and have all of her American Girl dolls in the car so that she can chose which one to take to have her hair done while we are there. The nice lady on the American Girl reservations line said we should make sure that Julia has the doll out and in the airport (she has an AG backpack to carry the doll in) because sometimes there are AG ambassadors at the airport handing out certificates to the girls with dolls. So we will definitely be doing that.

I have already started putting together some of our travel liquids...shampoo, conditioner (hotel versions are never good for my hair), travel deodorant, travel toothpaste, moisturizer, etc. The one thing that I'm having trouble with is contact solution for Julia.

The TSA allows you to pack 1 quart size zip lock bag per passenger, holding as many 3 oz. containers as you can fit (they call it the 3-1-1 for Carry ons). the problem is, the small contact solution I'm finding is 4 oz. It states (even shows a picture) right on the package that it is TSA approved, but I wonder how that is true with it being 4 oz? The last thing I want to do is buy a special size but still have it confiscated at the airport, causing us to buy another one once we get there. Of course if we do this, we'll just get to hand it over again as we get ready to return 24 hours later. Money well spent, don't you think?

Well I think I will be making a call to either the maker of Opti Free or Delta to see what I should do. I have only been to two stores, so there may be other options for travel sized solutions at Walmart or Walgreens that I can choose from.

Anyway - wish me luck keeping it secret. I can't wait!!

Birthday Surprises

As I get further and further away from my last post, it gets harder and harder to want to write. Too much catching up to do if you know what I mean.

I have pictures off the camera and on to the external hard drive, but Picasa is giving me fits. Mostly because I'm learning as I go and I don't have the time to devote to it right now.

Legare turned 9 on Monday. He danced a jig for a few days before and continued through yesterday. I'm sure as we wake he'll continue. Bryan and I both commented on how we had never seen anyone quite so excited about a birthday. And it wasn't even a big one. No double digits or anything...just good old 9 is all.

He got everything he wanted for presents. And all of them were Lego Star Wars things. You would have thought they were all bars of gold. And equal excitement was given to all of them - huge and small alike.

The one that we gave him is called a Republic Attack Gunship (you've seriously got to check out the picture of the thing). He watched a cute video clip of it on Legos.com for days, maybe weeks, leading up to his birthday. And I see why...I have not seen so many moving doors and hatches on one piece in a while - it is truly a neat "ship". It took about 2 days to build with over 1000 pieces. He was very proud, I was very impressed. He even asked me to join him on the building of it - truly sharing his pleasure. I was honored and enjoyed every minute of it.

Then, disaster struck. We finished the ship around 5:00 and worked together to put together another of his gifts (I really did enjoy doing this with him - sissy was at a b-day party so it was just us). He couldn't wait for his dad to get home to show off his new creation. He flew it around and played until bedtime. I should mention that this thing probably weighs 12 pounds.

Not long after we tucked him in he was back in the den with what we thought would be the "I can't sleep" song. Instead, he let out the saddest cry ever to come from a 9 year old boy. His ship had broken. And it was devastating.

We reassured him that it could be fixed, it just had come apart. The Legos we were sure hadn't broken. And my thought was that this things was so big and beefy it was probably 5-7 big pieces that could easily be put back together. WRONG. Imagine our surprise when we got to his room and it looked as if the ship had taken part in a gun battle. I bet there were 500 individual pieces of Lego or Lego chunks in one pile on the floor. My heart sank with him and we all kind of started laughing out loud at the ridiculous pile. It couldn't have looked much worse had you just opened the box and dumped out all of the pieces.

I bet it will take 30 minutes at a minimum to get the thing back together. And he did not start it today - he decided to enjoy the others for a while. I'm betting that's on our Friday to do list. I have told him that I do not have super glue!

Party's Over Said the Girls

Warning!!!!! Female talk coming. If you don't have the stomach for, and don't want to read my discussion of my breasts, now is the time to go away and come back another day when there's another post.

Seriously, breast talk follows. Mammograms, bras, breasts. Here they come. Consider yourself warned.

So, back to the topic at hand:

Yep, the party is officially over. With yesterday's mammogram, my personal birthday celebration came to a screeching halt. For those of you who've never had one, let me re-cap - and those of you who have, feel free to nod your head in agreement.

The office is very understated. Nicely decorated, but understated. Warm tones. Dimmed lights. All around "faux spa" I'd say. I arrived about 30 minutes early (they wanted 15). I was very excited and surprised that I got called back almost immediately.

I was shuttled to the nice little changing room where I was asked to strip off the shirt and bra, use the individually wrapped wipes to remove any deodorant (if I forgot and applied some - I had not), and asked to put on the dinner napkin sized modesty gown/cover up napkin. It was pretty and blue. It was not so much a hospital gown as a butterfly sleeved, halter top napkin. It was split completely from top to bottom, much like its cousin the hospital gown, but this halter top napkin's slit when in the front, not the back. Of course.

So, in I step to the "room" where the big machine waited. The very nice tech quickly exposed one of my "girls", hefted her up onto a very cold, grid-like platform, and instructed me to hold on to the handle. After much adjusting of Miss Left Side, the tech began moving the clear tray down. Smashing Miss Left Side. Smashing I say.

I was asked to pull Miss Right Side away from Miss Left Side with my free hand, look up, and get ready to hold my breath and be still. I don't know where she thought I was going with my left girlfriend gripped in the vice, but ok, I held my breath and remained still.

I looked down and my normally ample bosom was pressed to the size of a short stack of pancakes...very round and very flat.

After the smashing from the top, we released poor girlfriend, rotated the platform, and smashed her from the side. All I could think to myself was, "What would my husband be saying if he could see this?" It was pretty funny looking, and the thought of him seeing my girls like this almost made me laugh out loud.

Then, on to my second friend, Miss Right Side. Same thing: grab the handle, some manhandling by the tech to get her hefted onto the grid, and me giving a big pull of the other "Miss" to get her out of the way. Then, smash. Only this time, it felt like on the sideways compression that my ribs, way up under my arm, were getting pushed about. That kind of hurt, but at least it was almost over.

I swear the only reason we are given the "modesty, halter napkin" is to get us from the dressing room to the x-ray room, because I certainly wasn't covered at all during this procedure. This too is kind of funny and made me chuckle.

So, after the vice was released, I was handed a pretty white rose, asked to put my shirt back on, and was sent on my way.

Several times during the day I kept thinking to myself..."Self, this really doesn't seem like it's going to be as achy as the baseline mammogram you did when you were 35." I even thought this several times during the day.

Then, nightfall came. And bedtime. When I took off my bra, I swear my sweet, tender, lovely, wonderful friends felt swollen and hot. No kidding! And I swear when I took off my bra, all of the squeezing and mashing had caused them to hang much lower than before. I really am not kidding! I made my husband look, feel, and give his opinion. He was glad of this, but said he thought I was just imagining things on the extra droop, but agreed with the raised heat factor.

As I lay down, with my girls "let out of confinement" it started to sink in. The achy, wow why am I so sore, feeling. I wasn't as home free as I thought earlier in the day. This was true ache. Bruised even. I went back to the mirror to see if there was bruising anywhere. None. Whew.

And even today I feel like my chest has been involved with some kind of smack down. And "they" say this whole ordeal is even worse for my smaller breasted sisters. Well, all I can say is, we'll exchange notes after you've done this a few days before your impending femaleness arrives. Why didn't they warn me about this when I made the appointment? I should have known.

So in conclusion, my birthday celebration is over. With the mammogram, the girls need a rest from all of the celebrating!

Told you there would be lots of breast talk!

The Day I Turned 40

Forty is good! Although it's kind of funny that Sunday night I woke drenched in sweat. Did I say "drenched"? I really meant "swimming in" sweat. I think that was my body's way of saying "Welcome to the club!".

I was born at 8:06 pm on April 19th. That's about the exact time we left Mom and Dad's Sunday night and we had some fun commenting about how now it was officially my birthday. When we got home and tucked the children into bed, Legare stopped me as I was leaving his room...
"Hey Mom."
"Yes, Legare?"
"I just wanted to say Happy Official Birthday."

Sweet child!

So, let me run down for you the events of the birthday weekend - it was pretty fun! On Friday I was supposed to go to lunch with two of my girlfriends. We always get together on each other's special days. This time we were going to the new restaurant BLU that I talked about the other week. I was very excited.

Well, when we arrived (I rode with one of the friends) and got inside I could see my husband's face. I thought, "that crazy guy, he said he wouldn't meet us today, but he did!". I was kind of excited. Then I realized that he was sitting at a large table with 4 other of my friends and family. A surprise birthday luncheon - just for me! How wonderful. After my friend Lisa and I rounded the corner I was told that we beat 3 others getting there, my mother and two other of my best girlfriends.

My friend Lisa, whom I arrived with, is the new owner of the hotel and restaurant and she was the one who gently guided my husband to making sure he did something special for me. It was wonderful! The atmosphere is nothing but happy (how can it not be with the ocean as the backdrop?), the weather was sunshiny and perfect, and to be surrounded by my friends and family - well that was priceless! I could go on and on about this luncheon, but I won't.

OK, maybe I will go on. But not on and on. There were menu cards at each place at the table. My name, the occasion, the date and the menu choices were all printed out these precious cards. The champagne flowed for toasts, and even the gifts somehow managed to all be color coordinated with each other and with the restaurant. (I couldn't find my camera on Friday so I don't currently have pictures, but some were taken, and when they get emailed to me, I'll share them with you). After all of the guests had arrived, Bryan shared the first birthday toast with us and then left us girls with the luncheon.

After the wonderful lunch most of my friends had to get back to children, but me, my mother and the two original "going to lunch for my birthday" girls headed to the bar for one more celebratory libation. This celebration truly was perfect!

Saturday was garage sale time. After a breakfast in bed fixed by Legare (waffles cooked on the iron by himself and coffee just the way I like it with cream and chocolate sauce - my version of a mocha latte) we were off. I don't usually do the garage sale thing, but my neighbor (one of the luncheon celebrants) called, and since our neighborhood was having a community wide sale we thought it would be fun to tool around the neighborhood to see if we could find some treasures. We also went to neighboring neighborhoods to look around. And that's where my finds came.

4 bar stools for $1.00 a piece. These are going in the playroom to offer additional "lean to" type seating. At the next sale I purchased a slightly used HydroSlide Pro XL for $10.00. Pretty good bargain considering husband was going to be spending close to $2oo.00 for one on some not so distant day in the future. At the same house I also purchased a pair of Hush Puppies brand bucks for $3.00 for Legare. These shoes didn't even have a scuff on the sole - I doubt they had ever been worn. They didn't even have lace marks on the tongue! My neighbor got some things for her niece including a $3.00 smocked dress that didn't have any stains. Husband and I spent the rest of the day cleaning the leaves from the pool, pruning plants in the yard and enjoying the outdoors.

Sunday - the official day - we started off the day by going to the Marina Variety Store for breakfast (I had the special - a shrimp, spinach and portabello omelet), a quick jaunt to church and then to Lowe's for another part of my present, plants and flowers to plant with the children; these went on the front porch.

We then went to Mom and Dad's for a birthday supper of homemade meatball subs and homemade banana pudding. Did someone say YUM! I got that Hamby's Catering cook book from Mom - yee ha! - and a nifty cooler cart and beach/boat necessities from my brother and his family.

The day was great! The whole weekend was great! So far, being 40 has been great! I don't really know what all of the fuss is about. The only thing so far that does stink is the sweat (which actually hasn't "stunk" in the true sense of the word - ha), and today's mammogram. I would say the beginning of that procedure will mark the official end of my birthday celebrating.

But then I'll be quickly off to Lisa's birthday lunch to begin that celebration. She's 41.

Birthday Time!

I'm turning 40 on Sunday. Everyone keeps asking what it feels like, or how I feel about it. First - I love my birthday (maybe that means I like attention or being in the spotlight). So, the fact that it's my birthday is great! The fact that it's "4-0"....uhhh. Who cares, really? I don't feel 40. I hope I don't look 40 - but if I do that's ok too.

It does feel quite a bit odd to think that I've been on this earth for 40 years. That seems (sounds like) a long time, doesn't it? "Forty". 1, 2, ...skip a few..., 39, 40!

Let's just think about the number 40 for a bit....
- If something only has 40 calories - you'd be kind of excited, only 40 calories is pretty good!
- If donuts came in a 40 pack that'd be pretty exciting too (though I don't think I could eat them all at one sitting).
- 40 miles per hour is kind of on the small, insignificant side of the available MPH scale. I mean, it's hardly considered going fast unless you're in a neighborhood. And you definitely need more MPH than 40 on the interstate!
- you'd want more than 40 kernels of popcorn. 40 just isn't enough to fill the bowl.
- 40 minutes - a lot can get done in 40 minutes.
- But you can't watch a whole movie in 40 minutes.
- You can Ti-vo through commercials and make a 1 hour tv show less than 40 minutes sometimes! Hey, you just got some time back.
- an extra 40 lbs isn't so good - unless you're ordering a pig for a bar-b-que.
- having 40 friends is good. AND, they can help with eating that extra 40 lbs of pig at that BBQ.
- a classroom with 40 elementary children would be a lot!
- But...if you were teaching science in college, having only 40 students in your auditorium classroom would feel like you had failed in attracting students to your course. You'd want to fill that auditorium, wouldn't you? You'll need way more than 40.
- getting 40 presents for your birthday would be great!
- writing 40 thank you notes may take a while - but 40 presents! Wow!
- And isn't "4" just a nice looking number? Much more pleasant to look at than a "3". So I now get 10 years of looking at cute, little "4"!


See there, 40 just doesn't come across like a bad, or threatening number at all!
As a matter of fact, there seems to me more positive things about 40 than negative. And, since I only feel 28-ish, I'd say I'm rather excited to have a birthday on Sunday; even if it is the BIG 40. To date, I have no problems with 40. Not too old, not too young. Just Right!

Happy Birthday
Legare!

I can't believe that you are now 8 years old.
What an incredible young man you are turning into.

Enjoy your day and enjoy your Skating party tomorrow.

Daddy, Sissy and I love you VERY much!!!

(this picture is from the 1st day of school last year - it's rare we are all together)

Post Post: As I showed Legare this post I realized that I was posting this at the time he was born. Exactly.

Happy Birthday, Eliza!

We love you!

Aunt Annie, Uncle Brianny,
Yiyah and Bee