Just a Jailbird

Is that Henry in striped PJ's or a jailbird at our house? Looks like he wants to go outdoors.

What a wonderful treat to have Mr. Blue Eyes come to visit. He may be looking at his own reflection.

Keep being the cutest little guy alive.

Parenthood and Precious Moments

6:18 am is when the text came to say Sarah and Jory were at the American Fork Hospital and had been admitted. Max was on his way, two weeks early but hey, that is okay. It was hard to wait all day, but occasional texts kept the family current on Sarah's progress.

6:18 p.m. will forever be his time to arrive into this new family of three. We headed over to meet the young man and his parents with excitement to finally have a grandson to carry on the Schmidt name.

Here's Sarah with her younger brother, Scottie, enjoying a tender moment with this wee one. Thank you Heavenly Father for these precious gifts.

The Ultimate Gold Standard

It was time to go for the gold in shoe comfort and selection. I tell shoe salesmen that I am not picky, but my feet are. It takes me forever to find a pair that fits my high instep. After years of struggling with plantar facetious and searching for the perfect shoe, it was time to try Ecco's. Not a cheap shoe but comfortable and long lasting, I am a believer. They have become my gold medal choice, receiving the 'best shoe' award. Thank you for finally feeling it was time to choose the best of the best. They are my 100% shoe of choice while all the others are gathering dust.

The Ticking Time Bomb

On January 12th, a few days after setting up a date for a hysterectomy, my ticking time bomb went off causing acute pain in my lower left abdomen. After spending all afternoon at the emergency room, I was told to move up my Feb. 20th surgery date. The ovarian cyst and fibroid tumor were not going to wait. I expected this problem to go away, so I could take a planned trip to Florida the end of January. Each day the pain, inability to eat and nausea continued as I realized, it was time to listen to my body and make arrangements to move up the operation. On the phone with the nurse, I was close to begging her to fit me into the doctor's soonest opening. What relief I felt when she called to say January 23rd was the day. That meant only four more days of pain.

As we were ushered through the 'No Admittance' Surgery doors, a purple gown, Bear paws socks, and such were supplied. I was greeted by the friendly staff that would participate in this adventure. All too soon they were wheeling me into the sterile room, where major things take place while we are under anesthesia. How happy it felt to know there would soon be an end to my nightmare. Awakening in the Recovery Room several hours later, I was taken to my room to begin the healing process. The doctor informed us that he was surprised to find a cantaloupe size ovarian cyst bright red in color. Fearful of potential cancer great caution was taken which resulted in a ten inch incision. It goes from Atlanta to Arizona, is an easy way to explain its length. Preliminary lab reports showed everything looked good. Stanford University would conduct more tests on the specimen.

I have trouble with some medications and this time was no different. Although the nurses were helpful, all too soon my inability to keep any food down forced me to stop the meds. I informed the doctor on my third day, no more. Gradually I was able to eat and have all attachments removed. Soon I was able to walk unfettered and felt much better. Four days can seem forever at a hospital, so tears came easily in the wheelchair when the nurse pushed me through the exit doors. As we headed home, how grateful I was to be on the road to recovery.

CT Scan and other Scary Things

Standing outside the Radiology Department gulping down the last of my Berry Smoothie, I headed in for CAT scan and the unknown.  No liquids or food after 6am the doctor said.  You bet I woke up early and had a large breakfast at 5:35 a.m. 

Here I am sitting beside the donut shaped machine with my foot stretched out to prove, yes, I am really here.  The technician said to climb onto this very narrow platform, barely the width of my body.  What to do with my arms, which dangled precipitously over the edge.  "Don't move!" they said.  "Hold your arm up here."  I waited to hear the comforting words, "We are finished."  $4,000 later, and grateful for insurance, I await the doctor's report.  I'm glad that all went well no need to worry.  We will save that for another year. 

Brown, Blonde or in Between

Growing up I was a brunette.  I won't deny that often I fancied being a blonde.   I even daydreamed going on a cross country motorcycle trip, dressed in leather with a buff companion.  My unwritten bucket list placed it at, 'strongly attempt this'.

As is the case those hairs change colors around the mid forties.  It doesn't take long for the white to overtake the colored tresses.  Clairol became a trusted friend ala reddish, silver and golden highlights.  After noticing that blondes not only have more fun, but less gray.  My hairdresser recommended blonde highlights.  Next I suggested she keep adding more to camoflauge the white roots.  

Pretty soon I was officially a blonde and even sometimes acted like one.  Several people commented they liked it.  My do-it-yourself gave way to the professional touch.  People that haven't seen me for awhile, seem a bit surprised or make a comment. 

 This is my solution to the old lady white skunkish stripe and I feel years younger, too.   You decide if blonde, brown or inbetween is better. 

Lights and Wake-Up Call

The family went to town to see the lights on Temple Square and all the beauty going on.  I saw more than that, when waiting for the Trax train a man in a wheelchair smiled at me, but I turned away.  Feeling bad about my actions, I tried to make eye contact again.  He never looked back.  What makes one act unkind?

Later walking around holding hands and trying not to get separated from the grand children, a begger woman was asking for loose change.  I had none, but made it a point to mock her.  What had become of my Christian at Christmas deeds? 

I had to rethink my actions and have tried to be more thoughtful of those that may be invisible to us.