ONE OF GOD'S BIGGEST BLESSINGS TO THE CANTON/SOEHNLEN FAMILY

Wow, Just wow.  I cannot believe that our precious little granddaughter is four years old already.  I don't know if it seems to have gone this fast for her own parents, but to us aging adults, it truly seems like no more than a year ago, she was born. 

I want to share something personal.  When Sam told me she was pregnant, I was not overly thrilled.  Actually, she didn't tell me.  Sarah was talking to a friend over Aim ( A chat thingy) and left it up on the computer.  Just for the sake of argument, for the one time in my life I wasn't snooping, it was just there.  Sarah was telling a friend about Sam being pregnant.  (if you want to rob a bank, please do not take Sarah, because you will be in the hoosegow looking out NO DOUBT!  She cannot keep a secret)  When I read this my head went right into the proverbial sand.   I was hoping Sarah was just kidding.  She wasn't. 

I'm a planner.  I admit.  I blame it on my place of employment.  We have plans for plans and contingency plans for contingency plans.  I like an orderly life.  I like things in progression.  I'm old fashioned.  I like graduation, college, college graduation, marriage, babies, etc etc.  So this little peanut of a surprise took me a little bit to get used to.  OKAY, it took me like a week.  After that, I was fine. For the record, I was NEVER EVER mad, I was worried. 

It's no secret, so I'm not going to sugar coat it,Taylor was not exactly planned.  She could, by no stretch of the imagination, be a statistic.  Pro Choice people tend to think of abortion as a woman's right to choose.  (to me, this is about a baby,  more than it is about my rights as a woman)  Father's don't get a voice because it's only their baby, not their body.  This, in my mind, is so not logical, I can hardly stand to discuss it.  I stand by my opinion, that a heart beat is a life.  Period.  Let me add one thing and it may sound like a contradiction.  I DO NOT STAND IN JUDGEMENT of those who have had abortions. (the only exception to this is if you are using it as birth control)  I know there are many times, where life overwhelms.  People get scared, they do not see any other solution.  There seems to be nobody there to offer a hand, in fact the only people who may show up are those to tell you how wrong you are. I know this sounds like another contradiction, but I don't even want to see Roe V Wade overturned.  This needs to be a decision that comes from the heart, not because the government tells you it's wrong.  I would challenge all Pro Life people to put down their picket signs and give girls/women a reason not to abort.  Volunteer to help a girl in need, volunteer at a crisis pregnancy center, there are many, many ways to help without judging or being hateful. We need to put this Pro Choice VS Pro Life stuff away in an election.  There has not been a  Republican president yet (they are the ones who use this debate in their campaign) who has solved this problem and there never will be. I can think of no good reason for a late term abortion....don't even go there with me. When this happened under the Clinton administration I hated that man. I view it as pure evil.  I would rather die first than kill a child that is viable...meaning they could live outside my womb.... That is the end of my rant....   My point is both Ben and Sam understood what was important and knew they were not alone...they chose life.

This little girl has brought us more joy than we ever thought imaginable. (when I say "us" I mean both Ben's family and ours.)  We cannot imagine life without her.  I've heard parents explain how they worry about being able to love another child.  I never worried about that as a mother, but it enters my mind as a grandma.  Now I know, without a doubt, this will not be a problem of course, but it did enter my mind.

I guess with this simple blog, I just want to thank Sam and Ben for choosing life and giving us what we really didn't know we wanted or needed. What seemed like an obstacle or an inconvenience turned out to be one of God's many blessings that comes wrapped in something we humans don't recognize as a blessing at first......a baby.   Thank you God, for seeing the big picture.  We wouldn't change a thing!

Bobbie's View on Being Politically Correct...I Will Never Be a Candidate for the Supreme Court

I've been trying to tell you for the past 9 months, and I hope you are hearing me loud and clear, I AM AN ODD BALL.  I don't view things the same way that others do.  I do not look at life the same way that most people do.  I'm a God made mediator. I try to help everyone in an argument see the other person's side.   I tend to ride the fence on a lot of issues because I can usually see both sides.

I sometimes find humor in things most people don't find funny. When playing Words With Friends, I try to make words that mean something to me rather than being strategic to get words that rack up the most points.  For instance, If I have the letters to form the word POOP, I go with the word POOP over some other word that could give me twice as many points.  Humor should be worth double in my opinion. I'm usually not politically correct.  I use words that some may find offensive.  Frankly, politically correct cramps my style because I can't be me.  People probably wouldn't appreciate the real me.  My friends like the real me.  My husband loves the real me. Quite honestly, he's as bigger ass than I am.  Speaking of big asses.  I have one.  (no his name's not John) I will use myself as an example as to not offend anyone.  I have a big ass....I am fat.  I guess there are a lot of ways we, being politically correct, have to refer to my heftiness. Below is a list of ways we can be politically correct and my interpretation will be in parenthesis next to it.

Bobbie is a little chunky-   (Bobbie is Fat)
Bobbie is heavy (no, she's fat)
Bobbie has a pretty face (Bobbie is Fat, but she could be pretty if she lost weight)  I alwyas say it's best not to be both fat and ugly.
That outfit looks good on you (it doesn't make you look AS fat)

Sarah:  My Dentist reminds me of you
Me:  Why is she fat?

See, my point is even if you don't use the politically correct "word", I yam what I yam.....FAT.  It doesn't change the meaning.  OK, let's move on.

I find facebook to be interesting.  I have 200 Plus "friends" and it's kind of like having kids, they are all different.  There are those that are super emotional and dramatic.  To these "friends" everyday is some sort of drama. I swear they must live in a state of upset all the time.   I have artsy friends.  My artsy friends don't just see a flower they SEE A FLOWER with God's face shining in the center of it, with glistening dew drops dropping from the petals and the shadow it casts is an orb from a dead relative.   Me?  I see flower.  Yes, it's a pretty flower, but it's still just a flower.  I have flowers in my back yard, that somehow, John was able to bring back from the dead after Sarah tried to euthanize them in the 95 degree heat while we were on vacation.   There are people who are all about the peace, tranquility, harmony, love, meditation, breathing.  I get it,  I really do, it's just well, I'm tainted I guess.  I'm more of a I get up, go to work, fight to keep my head above water, don't take people's crap (make sure I don't dish it out either), go home and pray for a good nights sleep with no child waking me saying they have a flat tire or wrecked the car.  NOW THAT'S A GOOD DAY!  I don't like war, but I certainly believe we will have it around forever and I would prefer our country stay militarily strong.  Does that mean I don't love peace.  Hell yes I love peace.  I'm taking Monday off just so I can get some peace.  As for national peace, I'm not counting on it.

I am not a good candidate for a suicide prevention hot line,  OK, so don't call me to talk you off the ledge, unless, of course you REALLY want to wake up dead.  I'm not afraid of death, however I am afraid of the torture that may lead up to my death.  This torture could be mental or physical...who knows what God has planned.  

So there you have it.  I'm really a nice person.  I never ever want to hurt anyone's feelings, so I find myself being politically correct as to try not to hurt anyone's feelings, but geez, this thing is only going to grow and grow and grow.  Why do we have to be so thinned skinned?  Why is a word or phrase we used to use suddenly deemed improper or offensive?  Who decides that?   I don't care if it's the word cripple, midget, short person, fat person, etc etc....  In fact the word little person sounds way worse to me than midget.  OK, I'm stopping now because I'm sure on my way to offending some of you or all of you. 

Who Has a Big WOO HOO for Empty Nest?

I know this isn't going to go over well with people.  I know it's going to come out all cold and ugly and unemotional, yet I doubt it really will shock anyone either.  So here goes.....I LOVE TO BE ALONE.  I do, I just love it.  I'm not saying I would want to be alone 24/7 but 10/7 would be OK.  Seriously, If I could have one day a week of total alone time, I would be one happy lady.  Something has changed drastically with life.  I used to work every Saturday.  My day off during the week used to be either Wednesday's or Thursday's.  This was my day to do whatever I wanted.  I would get the kids off the school and clean the house, plan a nice dinner, and do whatever it is I wanted to do.  Many times the TV would never even be turned on.  I prefer silence to anything.

Here is another mommy blogger shocker.....empty nest doesn't phase me.  I don't want my kids to feel unwanted and I hope they don't read too much into their suitcases being packed by the door, but isn't leaving the nest a natural part of life?  I mean, I really wonder about people who want to all live together like a cult or something.  It's just not the way life is supposed to be.  (Please don't make me start quoting bible verses about leaving your mother and father and cleaving to another)  Truly I only have one left at home and wouldn't you know her middle name is pig pen.  She just happens to be the last one to give up her blankey, so that should have told me something right there.  I want her to leave when she's ready, I don't want to rush her because once she walks out that door, it gets boarded up and you have to have a secret password and handshake to get back in.  NO EXCEPTIONS.  I have my Pinterest boards all ready as to what I'm doing with each bedroom.  ( In fact, I think John is starting on the one bedroom next week.)  One bedroom has structural damage, but to no fault of Sarah's.  I believe the good son had a X Box meltdown and chucked a controller through the wall. 

Let me clear something up.  I truly like being a mom.  If you talk to my friends they will claim I didn't know where the kids were when we went on a couples only cruise, but I did.  I  knew they were safe  with Sergeant Vivian.   I didn't feel the need to spend 15 dollars on a phone call from Jamaica to check on them.  Dang, you people are high strung.  (I suppose this is another reason there is no Mother Of The Year award)  Anyway, I did like being a mom and have wonderful memories of family dinners.  If you don't have family dinners, I think you are missing out on something really special.  In this age of smart phones (I think each baby has to have a phone and an infant seat to be released from the hospital) Internet, I pods, I pads etc, family dinners are 20 minutes where all devices can be shut off and we can have conversations about the day.  Most nights John and I just needed to sit and listen as the kids talked to one another.  We really didn't have to add on an interrogation room with a one way mirror until around the age of 14.  Water boarding never really worked well for us, but we will discuss that in another blog.

Now why do I look forward to empty nest?  Well, I would like to tell you it's because John and I want to make whoopie all over the house like the old days.  ( my kids just threw up in their mouth), but actually it's just because I would be really really worried if I had not raised kids that are self sufficient and responsible enough to leave the nest at a decent age.  What's a decent age?  I don't know....everyone is different, but dear God please don't let it be past 25 PLEASE!!  I think what John and I have proven and our kids finally truly see, is in spite of my joking around, we are family.  We have each others backs and through strife, good times, bad times, rough times and sometimes what seems like impossible times we are all there for one another.  You don't have to be attached at the hip to have each other's backs, you just have to have that bond of family.  I'm glad our kids have each other and I'm glad I have each one of them.   But.....move on already.  :)

Another Doctor, Another Blog

I know I sound like I dislike all Doctors.  I really don't..see I put a capital D on Doctors to show my deepest respect.  I do believe I could be a Dr critique.  In my early years, I would randomly just pick Dr.'s out of the phonebook.  I find it doesn't really do any good to ask people's opinions because everyone has different ideas on what a good Dr. is.  The Dr. that delivered all three of the kids was really not my favorite.  First, his hands were just too small.  Those little slimey people could have slid right out of his sausage fingers. 

With Samantha he used forceps so hard that the side of her cheeks were red and raw for the first couple weeks of her life.  With Jonathan he broke his collar bone during child birth.  We didn't figure this out until a couple weeks later.  Jonathan was the only kid that cried at the hospital a lot.  I was thinking about trading him off for the quiet baby in the nursery.  Even in 1991 they kept pretty good tabs on what kid belonged to which mom.  So we brought the original home.  At his first check up the pediatrician noticed a "knot" aka a tumor on Jonathan's collar bone.  This particular pediatrician always went right to the worst case scenario.  He sent him to the ER for an Xray and turns out it had been broken during birth.  In a few months down the road this particular doctor would also put him through a battery of tests to rule out things like heart problems and Cystic Fibrosis.  He had me in an uproar most of the time. 

I've written quite enough about my oncologist.  He is as boring as you can get, but because of his outstanding credentials, I will cut him some slack.  Besides, I've seen and heard his patients in the waiting room.  There's is no wonder he has no sense of humor.  If I had to deal with Edna every six months, I would want to either shoot her out of her misery or retire. 

The newest Dr. I tried was a dermatologist.  I actually got a recommendation for this one. I wouldn't say it was a good recommendation, but a name written on a napkin type deal.   On vacation, my dear friends informed me I had a big ugly melanoma looking thing on my back.  I really didn't think it was melanoma, but I felt it was probably some sort of cancer that would need hacked off.  I did the responsible thing and made my appointment.  Between the time of making the appointment and actually going, I found that most people dislike this Dr.  One girl I work with HATED her.  Another girl, thought she was just okay.  The "just okay" girl actually had a growth on her ear that was growing a lot, I mean this was a big growth.  This particular Dr. wouldn't take it off because it wasn't cancer and she said insurance wouldn't pay for it.  OH HORSE POOP......if you take the damn thing off and send it off to be tested insurance will pay for it.  I sure wish she had told me this story when she wrote this Doctor's name on the damn napkin.  I already had my appointment and figured what the heck...I would keep the appointment. 

The first thing that is a turn off, are the doctors that belong to "The Foundation"  It's a complex that is bigger than the University of Akron.  You have buildings A, B and C.  It took me three stops ( because of course I went in alphabetical order) and a half tank of gas to find the correct building.  Then they are so helpful, they have a 90 year old woman working the "information desk."  I admit I'm very low on patience, but when I have to repeat the Doctor's name three times for Grace to hear me and she still doesn't understand me, I just want to ask the person who is charge what the point is to have someone handing out information that apparently can only understand sign language or maybe speaks a whole different language.  Once she understood what Dr. I was searching for she sent me on a wild goose chase.  I ended up reading the wall where they list all the offices and found the Dr. I was looking for was RIGHT BEHIND where she was sitting. 

The office was practically empty.  They put me in the examining room to sit for one HOUR....ONE HOUR and to my knowledge the office was empty.....I never saw any other patients.  I found this to be absurd.  The nurse asked me the same questions that I had already filled out on my forms and the questions that kept coming up were:  What color is it?  Has it grown?  when did you notice it?.......EVERY TIME I answered  "it's on my back I can't see it".  After sitting for an hour the Doctor and her nurse came in.  The nurse is carrying a container with a hose that looked like I was going to get my gears greased or something.  It looked like an old fashioned oil can.  I made a joke ( I forget what I said) they didn't laugh.  Dr. S. was particularly abrasive.  She started asking me the same questions that I had already answered.  What color is it? How big is it?  Has it grown?........OMG I was pissed by this point.  You are the Dr. I'm sitting here....why don't YOU look at it and tell me what color it is and how big it is?  I DO NOT HAVE EYES IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD.  THEY FELL OUT WHEN THE LAST CHILD LEFT THE NEST.  She went behind the table and looked for less than a split second and said "yea that's just an age spot".  An age spot?  My friends sent me to the Dr. for an age spot?  Really?  Because when we compared my melanoma to those on medicine.com, it was in the advanced stages?  Are you sure  it's just an age spot?  She went on to examine me for other potential problems and somehow found a microscopic-can't- see- with-the-naked-eye- pimple-like- thing on my arm.  Nurse Ratchet handed her the "can of oil", and she blasts the pre-cancerous thingy on my arm.  For those of you who believes guns should be banned, I would suggest you re-think that.  If any criminal would get their hands on this device it would do more damage than any arsenal.  I went to this Dr. three weeks ago and I'm still scabbed over where she blasted the little thingy on my arm.  I'm pretty sure I'm scarred for life.  I'm very thankful she didn't use it on my face or I would look like Halloween right now. 

I wish I could say I'm done with doctors for this year, but I have an oncologist and CAT scan to get through yet before the end of the year.  Next year my goal is to NOT max out insurance to where everything is covered 100%.  I would like to not reach my deductible. 

The Taylor Interview......

  We can't wait for the baby to sleep through the night, but.....we miss rocking them to sleep.  We cheer them on when they start to crawl.....then we put them in a play pen so they can't move.  We want them to talk so we know they can hit their mile stones, but once they have proven their ability to talk and talk and talk.....we beg for silence.  We want our toddlers to be happy, yet (this is for Sam and me) when things get too loud, we want them to stop laughing and screaming so much.   We want our kids to go to school, yet we miss them being home.  We want them to have lots of friends, but they need to be the RIGHT friends.  We want them to grow into good self sufficient adults, but we still want them to need us.  Oh, the list can go on and on....

As we approach Taylor's fourth birthday I just marvel how much kids learn in such a short time.  We all do it, my kids did it, but I think when it's your grandchild you look at them differently.  You actually have the time to marvel at how they grow, learn and interact.  I've decided to interview Taylor and here is some of our conversation:

Bobbie:  Who do you like better Grandma or Grandpa
Taylor:  (with a scowl)  I like you both the same

Bobbie:  What do you want to be when you grow up?
Taylor:  A princess

Bobbie:  What makes mommy happy?
Taylor:  When I pick up my toys

Bobbie:  What makes mommy sad?
Taylor:  When there is a mouse in the house, but it's gone now.

She interrupted our interview to tell me that her lizard eats apples and carrots and Aunt Katie is going to grow a mustache on her chin.

Bobbie:  What is your teacher's name?
Taylor:  I don't know I didn't ask.

Bobbie:  Where's daddy
Taylor:  He's in the army helping people

Bobbie:  If you could buy anything you wanted what would you buy?
Taylor:  A green light.
Bobbie:  A green light?
Taylor:  yea, for kids.  when they are in bed and you shut the lights off the green light comes on and they won't be scared.  I would also buy a cuddle, cuddle puppet.

Bobbie:  Name your friends.
Taylor:  Marlie, Zoe, Callie, AJ, Lisa (her moms friend) and Angela (again her moms friend)

Bobbie:  Tell me about how Aunt Katie surprised Grammy Pammy.
Taylor:  { big scream} it was loud! 

Taylor:  Can I go outside bare toed? (this is what she says instead of barefoot)

This is the end of our interview because just like all kids, she doesn't like to be interrogated and she has places to go and see.

 Tay surprises me with what she remembers.  She remembers her and her mom making a cake to bring me when I was in the hospital.  She remembers how at Christmas my niece Stephanie "ruined" her play dough by mixing the colors.  (she's harboring a grudge on this one)

My earliest memory is around Taylor's age.  I prayed for a little sister.  I remember my mom bringing home a cat and she had it wrapped in a blanket and I thought I had scored a sister.  I also remember around the same age, a pick up truck came crashing into our house and prior to it crashing, my mom yelled "BOBBIE, GET TO THE BACK OF THE HOUSE"  I was four......where the HELL is the back of the house!! 

I love that I have a little person that I can watch grow and learn.  She also helps me remember my childhood and how wonderful it was.

Dexter the nightmare...I mean dog.

This blog may offend dog lovers.  It shouldn't because I'm just talking about my own inadequacies as a dog owner.  It's not just me who stinks at it, my entire family should be made have their canine tubes tied.



My Three Squirrels and the dog from HELL



When we moved to the country John and I promised the kids who were 5th grade, 3rd grade and first grade, that they could have a dog. (at this point John is shaking his head violently that he had NOTHING to say about this promise) So in the spring I made a voyage to Louisville to pick up a full breed Boxer Puppy.  I knew I wanted a male and I knew I wanted his name to be Dexter.  I also knew once I arrived at Dexter's puppy mill he was probably not going to be the shining star I was hoping for just based on his parents and his environment.   At this point there should have been a divine intervention and I should have slowly walked away, but I didn't.  I took Dexter home.  I figured, I still had three children that were still thriving, how hard could a dog be?

Oh, he was hard.  I don't have a clue what kept us from killing him, I really don't.  Besides the cost of buying a full breed dog, this dog did thousands of dollars in damage.  He chewed up John's prescription sun glasses, Samantha's camera, the couch....yes, THE COUCH.  I ran to the dollar store one day for literally 5 minutes and came home and he has a piece of the couch in his mouth as he runs to the door with his stub of a tail wagging.  I couldn't believe it.  When crated, he decided to chew the silky trim off the blanket, this is a true story......silk was coming out his mouth and worked it's way all through his system and it was also coming out his bum.   The crazy Vet assistant pulled the piece that was coming out his rear and he nipped at her.  So not only did we get a thousand dollar surgery vet bill, we also had the equivalent of a juvenile detention center for dogs on our front porch flashing their badge and telling us we had to quarantine Dexter because he bit the vet assistant. I said OK, I will try, but just so you  know he will chew the door knobs off the doors to get outside.  He was like Robo Dog.

Dexter would run away when you let him out to pee.  He would run right up the road to where there were horses and the horse's mommy would threaten me that there would be a bill in the mail if he harmed one of those horses.  The horses were like 40 years old and the only excercise they got was when my dog chased them.   I'm not sure why she was threatening me.  Hell, he didn't want to hurt them, he wanted to play with them.  There was no amount of coaxing him when he was with those horses.  We tried hot dogs, lunch meat, anything and everything.  One time, I had to call John home from work to get the dog in.  I told John to tell his boss my right ovary exploded and I needed to go to the hospital.  John got out of his car, yelled Dexter's name and BOOM the dog came running.  John definitely had the Alpha thing going on and Dexter was petrified of him.  People could not understand why we couldn't keep our dog under control.  I swear to the good Lord above we tried.  We bought an industrial strength collar, and a long lead.  We hooked it on a tree and he could run and exercises on this lead.  It was made out of super duper strong cable, there was no way to break it......except apparently he was strong enough when he saw a girl dog run across the yard or hell it could have been a bird.   I look outside and I'll be darned......the lead is dangling from the tree, Mighty Dog had busted it.  I collapsed in tears, yes the damn dog made me cry!

I don't even want to talk about obedience school.  He was retained in first grade.  If there was a doggy Attention Deficit Disorder, this dog would be medicated. ( We may as well throw the H in there ADHD)

Dexter died when he was only five years old and it had NOTHING to do with us choking or poisoning him.  He got cancer, like a lot of boxers, and went to doggy heaven.  (possibly)

Now tell me who's a slow learner, a year later we bought another boxer.   She came trained and it didn't take us long for the kids to have her untrained.  A week after we got her we went out to dinner for my birthday.  When we came home we found she had eaten my birthday cake and then promptly threw it up in the living room.  Happy birthday to me.  Then there was the time I put chicken in the sink to thaw and she somehow got it out of the sink and ate all our uncooked chicken.  So what's the moral of this story?  Dogs drool and cats rule!  No more dogs for me.  Cats are my favorite, we have the same bitchy personality. 




Dexter



Lack of Inspiration

last night I'm minding my own business watching Olympic diving and out of the blue I get a facebook message from a friend clear across the country asking me why I haven't been blogging.  Well the truth is, I haven't been particularly inspired lately.  I pride myself on my sense of humor and my lack of sense, but lately....I'm just not feeling it.  (well, I have a major lack of sense but the humor is gone)

So, I told my friend to give me a list of subjects and I would write something.  My first blog is going to be an honest account on why I haven't been inspired lately. 

Life:  life is hard.  I really, really get tired of the meanness, the bitterness, the conditional love thing.  If you act a certain way people will love you.  If you believe a certain way, you will be respected.  If you are a republican, you must be rich, if you are a democrat you must need food stamps.  I get tired of every time I'm on facebook it's a political spiel of some sort.  Turn on the TV, more political garbage.  All I hear is hate, hate, hate. 

Christians are made out to be idiots because they believe the Bible is inspired by God.  We are to accept people of different religions and their beliefs......except, it appears, Christianity.  The problem with some Christians is a lot of us come across as though it says
WE are to be the judge of all people.  Some actually believe their sins are somehow smaller or less important than someone Else's sins.  See, I have totally lost my funny bone! We all suck! We all fall short.

However,  I can also tell you there are a lot of super nice non-judgmental people in the world.  Has anyone ever stepped into a pile of crap?  Have you ever done something that seemed so awful you wondered how anyone could love you?  Have you ever needed a friend or family member to just say "it's OK, we are here for you NO MATTER WHAT?   I'm here to tell you I have the best friends in the world.  I have friends that if I land in a pile of crap, they will hug me before they throw my ass in the shower.  If need be they would crawl in the crap with me and carry me out.   We have all had people, who in spite of our trials and tribulations love us anyway.  At best they don't kick us when we are down.    In the words of the late Rodney King "can't we all get along?"  (OK that's not particularly inspiring, but you know what I mean!)

This has been a very strange year for us, but God has blessed us with so many people that were there. They simply showed up.  My friends laugh because I will play my cancer card if it gets me something like....oh I don't know......a vacation house in Florida...a new couch or chair, meals delivered to the house....you know just fun things.  Sometimes, people who are down and out just need someone to say "it will be ok, we will help".........

Stay tuned to my next blog where I tell you about the time my mother didn't have toilet paper and used the Kleenex that was in her hand and it had freshly chewed gum in it........That sometimes doesn't work out so well.  I'm suddenly feeling funny again, at someone elses expense, but still funny.