Alison Hodgson

Expert on the etiquette of perilous times.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

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Try 5 degrees with a wind chill of 75 below (or something very cold) at the normal time we walk Jackie Boy.  Last night Paul looked at the weather and said, “Not gonna do it.”

Of course he doesn’t take Jack to work with him.  That’s my privilege.  
We should be starting school in nine minutes, but I don’t know if I can.  I have been up since 5:00 but I didn’t bounce out of bed, it was more of a slither.  I snuggled under a quilt on the couch and did a little writing.  Paul came out a little before six.  “So this is it?”  He asked.  I got up and ran back to bed.  I have been here pretty much since.  That is not the good makings of a Monday morning.
The kids are wanting to observe Martin Luther King’s birthday by watching videos and playing Wii.  I can see their point.  
Am now going to shut this and spring out of bed like a daisy or a bunny…maybe a puma.
I’ll let you know.
It goes without saying –  but I will say it – no baby, although Torey sent me an e-mail a little after midnight saying, “I think I’m going to have her today” and, according to Ren, God says this is it too.
Isn’t Monday’s Child fair of face?  That works.
Guess what day I was born.

Waiting

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Every time the phone rings I run for it.  Even when my sister is at my house.  I haven’t felt this…I don’t really know what verb to use…”tied” doesn’t convey it, nor does “controlled”.  I’ll start over: every phone call hasn’t seemed this important since my dad was dying.

Side note: If there is anyone in your life who has a loved one seriously ill, do call them, but know that the ringing phone causes a rush of adrenaline and a sense that your life hangs in the balance.   Don’t call early in the morning.
All that to say that Torey has NOT had her baby.  She is officially one day overdue.
This past Monday Paul flew off for Argentina, the same day Torey was going to be induced.  I was a wee bit concerned as the plan has been that I would take my niece, Ren, when Torey went into labor.  But I am trying this new thing that is actually an old thing, which is to trust God.  I prayed that I wouldn’t take on more than I could handle, but that I would have the strength to love and serve my family, nuclear and extended.
Paul is flying home today and will be here for a little bit, but there is still more travel on the near horizon.  We all know that P2 will be born when it is time, whenever that is, and I am still praying that I am able to help.
Last night Torey’s family came over and we ordered pizza.  I offered to keep Ren overnight if they got her tucked in.  We did prayer time together on my bed with all the kids.  Ren opened with an extremely long prayer, just when we thought she might be winding down she said, “It’s taking for a long time for P2 to be born!  When is she coming?”
Then she was quiet and listened.  “He says 25!”
Torey gasped.
Ren reconsidered, “I think God might be teasing me.”  She listened again, “He says 21.” 
We determined it was Monday and decided that was fine.
I’ll keep you posted. 

An Adjustment

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Torey’s due date has been changed.  It was the 19th, but at 20 weeks they moved it to January 7. Some of us who are not nine months pregnant have been wondering if the original due date was correct, but kept silent, because how can you suggest to someone who is so ready to be done, that maybe…perhaps… she or, at the very least her baby, isn’t?  The new due date is now January 18, this Friday.  

Torey took the news well.  She found out several hours after she had a root canal and the Tylenol had finally kicked in.  Yes, I did just say that.  She had a root canal today.   We check in just about every morning and she was almost weeping in pain.  David was at work and her car was in the shop and I think she was in so much pain and so tired from weeks of cruddy sleep, she just couldn’t think.  I told her to call the dentist and that if they could get her in, the homeschoolers and I would come and get her and Ren.   And that’s exactly what we did.
I want to riff a little about pregnancy, but must get the results of my own into bed.  So you’ve either been denied or reprieved depending on your perspective.
Hope everyone is happy and well.
And if the sun is shining on you would you please turn your face up and soak in a few rays for me?  Please?  I’m totally cool…sooooo not Jack Nicholsonish from The Shining.  Never.  However a wee bit of sun would be great, fantastic, just what the doctor ordered.

A Little Legumage

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No baby yet, at least out here. She’s warm inside. I can’t blame her, I mean we’re talking January in Michigan…tough sell.

Torey and Ren have been coming over the last couple days. This afternoon almost everyone was in the kitchen while I made dinner. I was chopping an onion rather vigorously and a big hunk of it went flying off the island. Normally, anything that hits the floor is fair game for Jack and he knows this; within a second of the onion hitting the floor I heard the scuttling of his nails. Before he was able to swoop I grabbed the onion. Allowing Jack to it, just didn’t seem prudent. Torey read my mind.

“Can you imagine his gas if he ate that!” She asked.

“Ren, Jack’s farts are revolting.” Eden said.

“Oh, what do the smell like?” Ren asked with the convivial tone of a gossiping matron.

“Like dog poop.” Eden said.

For which no one can fault him.

4/4

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We took these pictures after two in the morning, minutes before Torey and her family left. Only then, did it occur to us that we had neglected to get a family picture, something several of us wanted. I thought we had only gotten one with David, Paul, a sleepy Ren and we four siblings and forgot about this one. A personal friend of my brothers and a cyber friend of mine, Sunva, noted in previous comments that my brothers and I all have the same nose. We know it, and Torey has it too, as you all can see for yourselves. We are clear on this because, when Torey was a tiny baby, we three older ones would put her in the cat basket all swaddled in blankets and laugh at her nose. We thought she was cute and sweet but her tiny little ski jump of a nose cracked us all up. My parents were laughing at us too, because all three of us had the same nose, which we got from our father. My mother didn’t keep it a secret that she thought we all would have been better off with hers, but ours have served us well.

It looks like my girls, have gotten their own father’s nose, but I think Christopher is going to have the Wolfe’s.

And now we are still waiting for the wee-est member of our family to make her appearance. It probably won’t be much after that that her sister and cousins will have her bundled in a basket like her mother before her. I can’t wait to see her face…and not just to check out her nose.