“This is an unopened bag! That’s a good thing, because Mama deserves a fresh cup of coffee.”

That would be my husband rejoicing.

I wish I could say that him referring to me as Mama when the children are not around is an aberration. I wish I could say that there is not a corresponding “Daddy” of mine for every “Mama” of his, but that would be lying.

We certainly didn’t see ourselves here long long ago when we first began to procreate. Around that time met a couple in their fifties. We were still in our twenties. She called him Daddy and he called her Mother and Paul and I thought, you have got to be kidding me. We were on the eve of the 21st century and yet these two were in the dark ages. Can you imagine?

And then God gave us a profoundly deaf child. He could hear some and in order to help him follow conversations I began to call Paul Daddy when Christopher was present and Paul began to refer to me as Mama. It started harmlessly enough. We wanted to support our little boy as he was working to learn his own name, not to mention, ours.

The little boy is now ten and could tell you my first, middle, maiden and last names without a problem, yet there is no end in sight to the Hillbilly hierarchy of names Paul and I have established.

And so we take it one day at a time, one incident at a time, really, “Please call me Alison,” I ask with a weary tone but then ten minutes later I am calling him Daddy.

https://alisonhodgson.com/2006/06/959/

I was outside washing our sliding glass door when a chorus of screams and shouts summoned me inside. I ran, expecting God only knows what, and found a Bean with a petulant look, standing beside what had been her sister’s plate of cake. It lay upside down, broken, on the ground.

Our little Legume is trying out flinging things off tables when things don’t go her way, for example when she doesn’t get another piece of cake. We didn’t allow this when she is a baby so there is no way it is going to fly now that she is “fwee”. I promptly sent her to her room, cleaned up the mess with the big kids then went back to finish wiping off the glass door.

Christopher was soon tapping on the already clean side.

I told him to keep his hands off it then asked what he needed.

“May Eden get up? She says she needs to go potty.”

“Actually, she said, ‘It is wrong to say, shut your pie hole.’” Lydia interposed.

I thought for a moment – there was so much to consider – before deciding to let her cool her heels.

After a couple more minutes I went to her. She asked me to forgive her and I did, then she prayed and asked God to forgive her and he did, then I held her for a while as she cried and mourned her favorite little Thomas Train plate, which was the one she broke.

“What is asthma?” Christopher asked.

I explained that it was a condition that causes difficulty breathing.

“Oh. I saw it on a ride, ‘Those with heart conditions, asthma and pregnant women should not ride.'”

I don’t know what ride he was remembering.

I am lucky I don’t have asthma.” my son, who is profoundly deaf decided.

“Yes, you are.”

https://alisonhodgson.com/2006/05/962/

A year and several weeks ago if you had told me I would be in almost daily contact with my best friend from sixth grade as well as a dear friend from third grade all the way up to graduation – when we lost contact – I would have laughed. It is crazy but true, thanks to this blog.

Thank you to all who have read and commented and to all my favorite lurkers as well.

Isn’t it strange how seemingly unconnected things: digging out a hosta entagled in the roots of a tree and running up a steep hill to play with my son, combine to cause me immobilizing pain. I awoke early and got up to head to the gymn and found I couldn’t really walk. My Aquilles tendon is strained, making it hot to the touch and tender. I am hobbling around.

Fortunately I already had a chiropractor appointment scheduled tomorrow to try and help with the weeks long headache that is, thankfully, absent today.

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We have three more weeks of school. It is ALL I can do to not throw in the towel. “School’s out for the summer” is on a loop in my brain, but school is not yet out.

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I have decided that this summer is going to be dedicated to finishing my book and to building community, i.e., having fun. Paul and I have been working like a couple of serfs to get our work done so that when things start to warm up we only have to worry about maintenance (which is plenty) and to having people over. Saturday was a free trash day for our township. Paul hauled three trailer loads of junk that came with this house and one of Goodwill items. Each load he spent an hour in line!

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Fascinating stuff, I know.