Browsing Archives for The Boys

Corn on The Cob 101

June 5th, 2008


First there is the thinking part.


Followed rapidly by the doing part.


And then back to thinking…


Sometimes these decisions can appear to be painful…


As if the subject were in physical agony…


But that is just an illusion.  In truth the cob only gives life…


Even serenity…


And then the cycle starts all over again…

Isaac asked Jack, ” When is the part where you rub the cob in your lap…?”

Jack explained to Isaac that the lap has nothing to do with the cob.

Slowly, Isaac came to understand.    

OH MY GOSH!  I am having so much fun reading your birth stories!  They are wonderful and warm and funny and HOW AM I EVER GOING TO CHOOSE!  

Please keep sending them – you have til Wednesday 7PM CST.  Details in the post below.
The Country Doctor’s Wife Birth Story #2
It was the holiday season 1996.  My sister-in-law Barb was getting married right after Christmas in the family’s home town which is out in Western Kansas.  The notyeta Country Doctor and I and our two year old son were there for the festivities.  I was eight months pregnant.
The Country Doctor’s family is very large and my in-laws’ home was bursting at the seams, so we were staying in a nearby hotel.  I had slumped back to our lodgings to rest a bit.  As I laid down on the hotel bed, I started to feel some pretty regular tightenings around the abdominal area.  I got pretty freaked out because I had zero desire to deliver in a strange town away from my midwives.  I could just imagine trying to talk a small town doctor into letting me walk all the way through labor and just leave me alone and get that damn fetal monitor away from me, and get behind me Satan with your IVs!  I can do this on my own you dumb, stupid, dumb doctor!

I called the midwives and they told me to drink a glass of wine, jump in the car and drive home.
So I did.
Eighty miles down the road, the contractions completely stopped.
Four days later our second son was born. 
 
I missed the wedding, to which the bride Barb wore a cape and carried a fur muff with her wedding dress, because it was a winter wedding.  Isn’t that cool!
In our haste to leave town we left our two year old behind in the care of the family.   The notyeta Country Doctor and I spent four days with no baby to care for.  We went to movies, and out to dinner, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.  Oh… except I was desperately trying to have a baby.

Ethan was finally born on the morning of New Year’s Eve.  I distinctly remember that first night in the hospital with him.  The bride and her new husband brought our two year old to us as they had travelled to Kansas City as part of their honeymoon.  Calder’s diapers were on backwards, but other than that, they did a great job taking care of him.  Jason, Barb’s new husband snuck a bottle of champagne into my hospital room and we all quietly toasted the New Year.  
After well wishes to the new couple and the new baby, everyone left and I was alone with my infant son.  I looked over at him lying in the bassinet and his eyes were wide open.  I turned on the TV and a James Bond movie was playing.  Ethan and I watched the movie together.  


I love James Bond… and guess who else in this particular family does?  

Here we have the young male species of the tribe…second born and thus always trying to overcome his #2 status.


Running faster, jumping higher, punching harder, must read noticeably large volumes, must be the first to answer all questions…

must dig the deepest hole in the shortest amount of time.

Unlike the third born male, or “gooficus ballicus” as they are referred to in scientific circles.

Or the fourth and last male of the tribe known for his unbending, iron clad heart that no amount of a mother’s salty tears can melt. He goes his own way. He is not moved. He does not need to please you.

The second born must please, must impress, must strive. It is what they do. There is no other way.

Except for the occasional…

dirtbath.