Humor
With boys, hugs and kissed usually stop in their toddler years…at least what we all know as PDA’s (public displays of affection). They are learning to be a man after all, and men don’t show emotion right?? I used to think that it was mostly boys whose dads were worried about them being wimps that caused their sons to act this way. Of course, this thought came from a woman who had 4 sisters and no brothers, and then 2 daughters and no sons. I know better now that I have 3 grandsons and only one granddaughter. Boys instinctively know that they have to be tough, and just like girls who are learning to be nurturing by playing with their dolls, boys learn toughness by pushing back their emotions…and the first thing to go is those good old PDA’s. I mean, “A guy could get beat up” right!!
The good news is that those things will come back into play when they get to the point where they actually like girls again, which must happen after the girls get over their case of the cooties, or the boys get vaccinated from them anyway, because as we all know cooties are the worst germ out there!! So as women, we either need to vaccinate our little boys against cooties…try convincing them that the shot is a good idea…or wait the whole thing out and plan on missing those kisses and hugs until we lose the cooties.
Sometimes, however, something a little boy does is so sweet and thoughtful, and it takes you so by surprise, that you can’t get it out of your mind. It’s almost as if they forget themselves for a moment and just let the emotions flow out of them. Last night I was having dinner at my mom’s house with Mom, my sister Cheryl, and her kids, Rob and his wife Dustie and their kids, Christina, Raelynn and her friend, Matthew, and Audrianna. I was sitting in the chair that was right in front of the door as you walked into the house. As they arrived, the girls all came in and said hello to me, as did their parents. But, when Matthew came in, he walked straight up to me and gave me a big hug!! Now, I am his great aunt, and I know he loves me, but most of the time when I see him, I either have to expect that there will be no kiss or hug coming, or I might get one after the wrestling match it takes to get him down long enough to steal one. Not so last night. That sweet little boy came right up to me and hugged me. I almost cried. It was a precious moment. Now, I’m not naive enough to believe that he will continue to do that, because he is only 6 years old, but it was such a loving and thoughtful gesture, that I think I can let the times when he doesn’t do it slide, because he is after all…only 6 years old.
I was at the hospital yesterday, bringing my father-in-law, who had been in the hospital for surgery, home. A nurse on the floor, who was not his nurse, and so didn’t know his last name, came in to see if the transport team member needed any assistance. When he said he didn’t, she looked at me and said, “You’re Amy’s mom aren’t you?” I laughed and said, “Yes, I am.” She told me that she had gone to school with Amy and asked me to tell her hello.
As I was leaving the hospital, I thought back to the first time someone had asked me that question. Amy was in Kindergarten and I was volunteering at the school, doing throat cultures to check for Strep Throat. As I walked into the nurses office to get my supplies ready, I saw two little girls sitting on the bed. One of them had apparently scraped her knee, and the other one was there for moral support. The little girl who was there with her hurt friend, said, “Are you Amy’s mom?” When I said that I was, the hurt little girl said, “Amy who?” The first girl said, “You know!!! Amy Sugarberry!!” That encounter put a smile on my face the rest of the day.
I have been told many times that Amy looks like me, although that is not alwyas something I can see. It must be so, however, because in recent months, I have had several people who know that I am Amy’s mom, tell me that I really look like her. Still it is surprising to have someone who doesn’t know me as Amy’s mom already, be able to just pull her name 
out of the hat when they see me. It really brings to light that we look very much alike.
I have always known that I bear a strong family resemblance, because I have had people recognize me as being my sisters’ sister many years after the graduated from high school, and ask me if I am my dad’s daughter, when it has been years since they have seen him. I guess with that said, I should not be surprised when they can see a strong resemblance between my daughter and me. Nevertheless, I find myself still amazed that even after all these years, I am still known as Amy’s mom!
Sooner or later, everyone has a moment that can only be classified as…well, shock!! Being mildly surprised…which tends to be the new picture to take and post on Facebook just doesn’t describe it. No, I’m talking about that moment when someone jumps out at you in a hallway and your eyes get as big a silver dollars. And nobody does shock quite like a baby. They just can’t seem to get their mind wrapped around things like loud noises, and the resulting look on their face is simply classic!!
My granddaughter, Shai was one of those babies who was startled by just about anything. Maybe she was a concentrator like her grandma, or maybe she just had great hearing. I don’t know. I just know that noises or an unexpected touch could cause her eyes to get huge, and even make her cry sometimes. She was simply so jumpy. Of course, we didn’t try to make her cry but, those big eyes were something to see.
I wish I could have been around for some of the shocked looks I have seen in the pictures of Bob, because I have never seen eyes so big…in anyone, baby or adult. I don’t know what shocked Bob, but I’m surprised he didn’t jump right out of his mom’s arms in this picture. His was the greatest face of shock picture I have ever seen. I would love to have seen what happened to shock Bob, because I have never seen eyes so big, in baby or adult. They looked like they were going to pop right out of his head!! Every time I see that 
picture I have to laugh, because Bob’s shock was so apparent. If it wasn’t mean, you would do the same things over and over just to see those wide eyed shocked looks on the baby’s face.
Some of the best shocked baby moments come when you are taking a picture and the flash goes off. As adults, we know to be prepared for that flash, but there is no way to warn a baby about that impending flash, and no matter how many times you take their picture, the result is the same…at least until they are a little older. You might catch that smiling face, or you just might end up with the face of shock!
My sister, Alena was a child who has always loved hair styling, and I have often wondered why she didn’t become a cosmetologist, but she didn’t. She still cuts our mom’s hair and that of some of the rest of the family, but that is not where her true calling lies. She was pretty funny as a child however, because her main practice head of hair was her own. If Alena was in the area…hide the scissors. I will never forget some of the comical hair styles she sported from time to time. Nor will I forget our mom’s difficult attempts at repairing the damage Alena had done. I remember the little pixie cut that came from a time when she cut one chunk very close to her head. And then there was the bangs that she suddenly had..and that were usually very short. The rest of us girls had long hair, but Alena’s hair depended on the cut of the day, and if Mom could keep the scissors out of her hands, which was next to impossible…because she would search them out.
When Alena wasn’t practicing her hair styling techniques, she was contemplating becoming a scientist…or more specifically, a chemist. Alena liked improving on the cleaning formulas we had in the house. I don’t really think that she ever perfected her own brand of cleaning formula by mixing Comet and shampoo, but our toilet, which was usually her mixing bowl, always seemed to be pretty clean. Of course, Mom could have wrung her neck a few times, and I have wondered how she mixed all that stuff, and never came up with a combination that would blow up the toilet. So much for really being a chemist, I guess. No, this wasn’t to be Alena’s true calling either.
While Alena never mentioned that school was anything that she particularly liked, it would be in a school setting that she would find her true calling. Alena began working in the school system when her children were still in school, and I’m sure that the hours were a factor in her decision, since she would have the same time off as her kids. She began working as a playground teacher, and was very well liked by all, including the children that she sometimes had to convince that they would be better off to control their behavior. It’s funny that often it is the strictest person in a child’s life that is the most respected. When her superiors saw how good she was at making kids behave…without killing any…they promoted her to positions like the “in school suspension” monitor, and eventually the 
classes for the children who were either troubled, or struggling. Of course, she had to take the necessary training for these positions, but in the end, she would find that she was well suited for this type of work, and believe it or not, these troubled children didn’t look at her as a warden, but as a friend, who understood them and wanted to help. Not a bad true calling, if you ask me.
Today is Alena’s birthday, and since she doesn’t have to work in the summer, I’m quite sure that she would be sleeping in, even if it weren’t a Saturday. And can you blame really her? Happy birthday Alena!! I hope you have a great day and a lovely summer!! We love you!!
A client was in my office yesterday with his little granddaughter. When he gave her a kiss, his whiskers rubbed on her cheek, causing her to make a face. When he told us why she had made the face, it took me back about four to five decades. Back to when I was a kid, and my dad used to play with my sisters and me by giving us whisker rubs. It was something Dad did when he was in a playful mood. He would come home from work, and we would gather around to greet him. Dad always loved to tease, and see if he could put a smile on our faces after his long day at work.
Dad’s 5 o’clock shadow would always scratch us when he would kiss us hello, and I suppose that was how it got started. Just like my clients little granddaughter, making a face at the scratchiness of her grandpa’s face, we probably made the same face. My guess would be that he thought our little face was so funny that he did it again to see that funny little face that looks a bit like a kid who just ate lemons. After a while, it became kind of like the “tickle torture” we had used on our sister, Caryl…a “weapon” used without warning to get a rise out of us.
I suppose people might wonder why such an act would be continued after the first time. Well, the answer would lie in the fact that after Dad would finish giving us the whisker rub, we would invariably say, “Do that again, Daddy!!” It was always a fun little goofy thing we had with Dad, and as we grew older, and had children of our own, they too, were introduced to the whisker rub. No one was exempt, nor did they want to be, because to be 
exempt, would have been to be left out of the fun.
My dad was a great dad and a great kidder. He brought fun and laughter to our home, and made each of his girls feel like princesses. We were so blessed. Family was the most important thing to him. He had so much love to give, and such a good heart. He was always doing fun little things to bring a smile to our faces and sunshine to the day. I miss those days…especially when I see a dad or grandpa playing with their little one or even accidentally doing something similar to the playful things my dad did…like the whisker rub!!!
Remember the spiral perm? Everyone was wearing them just a few years ago. It didn’t matter if you had long hair or relatively short hair, it was the look. The thing is that going to a salon to get those perms was expensive, and we really hated to pay that price, as did many of you, I’m sure. Well, our family found a solution. A friend of ours was a cosmetologist, and at that time, the only people who could purchase things from a beauty supply store had to be licensed. It was much like the newest controls that only allow licensed cosmetologists to purchase perms now.
Since we wanted the perms, and not the expense, we talked to our friend and the rods were ordered. We didn’t totally know what to expect as far as the look of the rods was concerned, so when they arrived, we were a little bit surprised. We had never seen perm rods like that before. We had to read the instructions to make sure we knew what we were doing. Those first few perm roll-ups were laughed about quite a bit, so as you can see, we had to have pictures so we could remember how funny it looked. Don’t even ask who this was a picture of, because I want to live, and any one of my sisters would be willing to make me very sorry for telling…which is also why I will not be posting the other side of this picture…which I do have. Hahaha!!
Every time one of us would get a perm, which we always did at Mom’s house, it was something that got the laughs from any of the men in the family…which could be why we 
did them at Mom’s. We could make sure husbands and sons weren’t there…usually. Still, it was fun to get the perms and funny to see how we looked in those rods.
These days, not only can we not do these perms at home, but I wouldn’t have one. The styles have changed, and I really don’t like doing the damage to my hair. The memories of those days of getting repeated perms in Mom’s kitchen will be with me for a long time. We had some good times in that kitchen. Everything from perms and hair trims to lunches and long talks, but those perms will stand out in my mind as some of the…funniest looking times…to say the very least.
Ours was a family of girls…5 of them to be exact. I have no brothers, just 4 sisters. Our family stayed that way until I was 18 years old, when my sister, Cheryl had her son, Robert Allen…or Robbie as he would be dubbed, since his dad was Rob. Robbie has yet to completely outgrow that name, and he is 38 years old…as of today.
Robbie was…to put it mildly…a shock to our systems. Cheryl’s first 2 children were girls too, and we were just used to how girls did things. Robbie remained the only boy born in our family for the next 12 years, and he was definitely a trial to his Aunt Caryn, who had 2 girls and no boys. In fact, I spent much of the next approximately 18 years thinking he was insane. By that time, we had 3 more boys in the family, and they were old enough to let me know that Robbie was just acting like any other boy.
Boys are quite different from girls as I’m sure many of you know. They enjoy the whole shock factor thing, and love to see if they can get a rise out of those around them, especially the women. The teasing and annoying things boys do to see if it will bug you, were especially annoying to me, as the mother of 2 girly girls.
Robbie remained insane…in at least some capacity until I ended up with 3 grandsons, and only 1 granddaughter. Boy, were those boys a culture shock to me. Up until they came along and grew a little, I secretly thought it was just other peoples’ boys who were 
insane, but my own grandsons made it really clear that all boys are pretty much the same.
These days, there is little that boys can do that shocks or surprises me. I fully understand that the way they act is just common to the male species. As the years have gone by, I have come to see Robbie, and my other nephews, in a different light…and I really like them, not just love them because they are nephews. Once you have been around boys for a while, you have a different perspective. So, happy birthday Robbie!!I’m sure you will be happy to know that I no longer think you are insane!! We love you very much!!
When toddlers are placed in close proximity with a baby, it always seems like the first thing they want to do is touch the baby’s head. I never could figure out what the attraction was. Of course, the last thing the adults want them to touch is the baby’s head. And maybe that is the exact reason why they go for it. Whenever someone hands a baby to someone who is or seems inexperienced, the first thing they say is, “Watch his head!!” It makes the head all important I guess. Or maybe it is because the baby’s head is often pretty bald, so like any other bald head, some people want to rub it…another thing I never could figure out.
When my grandchildren, Christopher and Shai were 16 months old, my third grandchild, Caalab arrived. There were times when Shai, at least, wondered why her parents had to get her a brother. He cried, and she really hated that, but in many ways she loved him too. And to these two best friends and cousins, who spent much of their waking hours together, Christopher and Shai found Caalab to be something of an oddity too. They hadn’t been around babies much, and so they didn’t really know why Caalab did the things he did…like crying, especially when they touched his head or tried to pick him up. They couldn’t figure out what his problem was. And all Caalab could think of was please don’t drop me or poke me in the eye.
For parents keeping the baby safe from the other kids can almost be a full time job, and yet the older children don’t mean any harm. All they want is to be involved with this new little person who takes up so much of the adults’ time, and seems so important to them. I think they are just curious. They want to help out with the baby. They want to play a part in this new life that has come into their world. And they want to see what makes this baby tick, so to speak…probably part of why they have to touch the baby’s head. To a toddler, babies are something very new…and toddlers really just want to understand what all the fuss is about.
A number of years ago, 1979 to be exact, when Bob’s parents were still living out in the country, the guys had a permit to cut down some dead trees in the Shirley Mountains. A bunch of us made several trips up and spent the day cutting and loading those trees onto the flatbed trailer my father-in-law owned. It was always a project that took the whole day, and plenty of help. We came back with several good sized loads of wood. Then came the real work. Cutting all that wood into usable sizes to burn in our wood stoves took many days.
At that time, my father-in-law had a big buzz saw to cut the wood with. It took two people to get the wood on the table that ran the log to the saw. One day, Bob and his dad were working on cutting the wood, and since we lived on the same property at the time, because our land wasn’t ready to move onto yet, our kids were there too. They loved being around all the activity that went on at their grandparent’s house. From raising a couple of cows to cutting wood, there was always something going on.
Corrie had come down to the wood pile to watch the cutting process…or maybe to be the supervisor. It was really the only job a little girl of 4 years could do, so they set her up on one of the bigger logs that had been cut, and she supervised the whole project for quite a while. I’m quite sure that in between all the sawing, Corrie probably talked the guys’ ears off too, if I know my girl. Corrie has always been an organizer…even as a little girl, when she tried to straighten a neighbor’s counter up, because it was a little unorganized. As a supervisor, Corrie was simply in her element.
Of course, at 4 years old, Corrie got bored with the work world, and decided that it was time for a break. That happened about the time that the cat, Dusty showed up and seemed to need a little bit of attention. Corrie decided that she would have to be the one 
to entertain Dusty and keep her out of trouble, because as we all know, cats tend to get in the way of the work. They always want to rub up against you, and that simply won’t do when the men are trying to cut wood. Dusty could be in real danger of getting stepped on. Eventually, Corrie would go back to her supervisory job, but only when Dusty decided that it was time to go find something to eat, and a nice shady place to nap.
We have all had those kinds of pictures taken. You know the ones. The “Wait!!! I wasn’t ready…” moments. We take a look at them these days and say…”Delete that one!” or “That better not show up on Facebook!” Well, thankfully these days we can say that and no one but you and the picture taker ever see that awful picture, unless the taker refuses to get rid of the offending picture. In days gone by, however, when you couldn’t see what the picture looked like until it was developed, things were quite different.
When the pictures were picked up from the photo shop, often the whole family gathered around to take a look at them. Then it happened…you came up on a picture and said, “Oh my gosh!!! That’s awful!! Don’t show that one to anybody!!” The problem was, that not only had several people already seen it, but it was part of some event, such as a wedding or birthday party, and it was an important part, like cutting the cake, the wedding toast, or blowing out the candles!! So, you were stuck with everyone seeing it, because the moment could never be duplicated. All you could hope for was that someone else got a better shot than this one, so you could get a copy and pitch the offending picture in the trash…but, what was the likelihood of that happening. Pretty slim!!
I am very thankful that we have digital pictures now, because not only can you retake the moment when you see how awful the first shot was, but with the programs we now have, you can fix many of the simple problems. I have cropped the picture, so it isn’t all background, brightened and color corrected, cloned out problem areas…like that fly away hair, and placed eyes over eyelids so the person’s eyes weren’t closed. Most os the time, no one even knows I made the change, unless they saw the before picture that is. You can even place two people side by side, when they weren’t beside each other at all. It’s all pretty cool.
Yes, maybe it can eliminate some of the laughs we get over those awful pictures, but if you are like me, you save those too, because you never know when you might need a laugh. 
I’m not one to post those awful pictures on Facebook or even my blog without the person’s permission, but when they are old pictures, and very few people know who the person is, it’s not so bad. So, today my blog is dedicated to those “Wait!!! I wasn’t ready!!!” moments that we have all had, but thankfully were able to fix…and to those poor people of yesteryear who couldn’t.
