Matthew Stephen - born yesterday (March 24th) at 8:46 a.m. 8lb 2oz 19 inches Cutest ever -- pictures later. :)The actual birth was great, Matthew's in great shape. Unfortunately the placenta didn't want to detach so I couldn't avoid the hospital, but I was really pleased with how the midwife handled everything and, while it was a tad traumatic to leave my hour-old son home with my mom while I went under general anesthesia, it's all worked out.
I need to type up the birth story before I forget it all, but it was amazing laboring and doing everything at home, with only supportive loving people around.
Jason was enlisted when I knew him. He eventually got engaged to Erin, but they never married and ended up going their separate ways. Jason got into a very competitive commissioning program. The Marine Corps paid for him to finish school and then made him an officer. He married and had a daughter.
I just found out that 1st Lieutenant Jason Mann was killed in Afghanistan on July 17th, 2008. It was not a combat death; a building collapsed on him.
Rest in peace, Friend.
- Current Mood: sad
We spent the day in Seattle today...I felt very urban. Oak Harbor is so not a big city that I almost forgot how it felt to be in one.
- Current Mood: tired
Well, tomorrow I'm off to California (northern) for a friend's wedding. I am not sure how I am going to survive the flight (leaving here at 7:30), and then supposedly having a bachelorette party into the wee hours. I imagine I will be asleep before it is all over.
I am seeing a bump these days, I think. It gets bigger as the day wears on (more bloat!), but it is definitely there.
Ugh, I am going to be so tired in the morning, and that always makes the sickness way worse. I just hope that I don't throw up in the cab on the way to the airport!!!
- Current Mood: tired
Luckily for us, we have the financial means to do that for a little while. So we're not totally up sh*t creek. But I am pissed because the buyer's realtor has been shady from the beginning, and WTH is a pre-approval for if it doesn't mean they can get approved for the actual loan when the time comes?! Pre-approval. Before approval. Before making an offer on a house approval. And sweet mother of pearl they had to wait until 4 days *after* we signed a lease and moved?! If we were going to get out of our house and have it cleaned up by closing, we had to move last weekend (no, this weekend would not have worked). I don't know anything about real estate law, but I want to sue them for at least a month's rent, if not two in small claims. The only thing we know about their situation is that supposedly something came up in their "tax records" that caused them to be disapproved for the loan. But they managed to shop around at three different banks (according to their realtor) before ever telling us there was a problem. So, while we were happily renting an apartment, they were quietly looking for loans everywhere without success...argh!!
- Current Mood: frustrated
Praise, O servants of the LORD,
praise the name of the LORD!
from this time forth and forevermore!
From the rising of the sun to its setting,
the name of the LORD is to be praised!
and his glory above the heavens!
Who is like the LORD our God,
who is seated on high,
who looks far down
on the heavens and the earth?
He raises the poor from the dust
and lifts the needy from the ash heap,
to make them sit with princes,
with the princes of his people.
He gives the barren woman a home,
making her the joyous mother of children.
Praise the LORD!
- Current Mood: contemplative
"The Lanyard" by Billy Collins
The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.
No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.
I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.
She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light
and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.
Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth
that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.