Saving Sunny

I'm torn between telling this amusing story and keeping my dignity...but, I think I'll opt for the amusing story!

It was a dark and stormy night....well, dark anyway. Our ten year old daughter came into our bedroom, her little fuzzy hamster was hanging by it's teeth from her index finger. She was frantic, to say the least, and although it hurt, was mostly worried that her hamster was dying.  We jumped out of bed and pryed her hamsters little jaws apart, freeing her finger. Randy tended to the bloody finger, while I assessed the hamster.

...I know that so far, my story isn't that amusing, rather, it is sort of tragic, but I will try to get to the embarrasing, I mean amusing, part soon...

I could hear my poor daughter, sitting in the bathroom, crying her eyes out at the thought of losing her beloved pet. This tore at my heart-strings! My brain kept saying, it's just a five dollar hamster, but Sunny was Allie's friend, they played together every day and this little hamster was in big trouble.

Sunny lay almost lifeless in the palm of my hand, and I couldn't even tell if she was alive. I got Randy's stethoscope from the closet to listen for a heart beat or breathing sounds, which were faint. She appeared to be dying right before my eyes. The mother in me snapped into action. Thinking that she may be choking, I rolled the little hamster onto her back and gave her stomach a few upward thrusts, to no avail. I elevated my efforts and did a little "hammie heimlich" maneuver, which was done by encircling the hamster under her front legs, with my thumb and finger closed around her middle. I shook her by thrusting her downward several times, hoping to dislodge a possible foreign object. Still the little hamster lay, alive, but disturbingly still.

Here is the part you've been waiting for....

I could still hear the sobs from the bathroom as I worked on poor little Sunny. Now was the time of decision...would I, could I, do mouth to mouth on a hamster?!  My instincts just took over, I didn't have time to think, just act, and yes, I put my mouth over the little hamsters face, around her mouth and nose, just as I was taught in CPR class, and gave her several light, very small, puffs of air. I couldn't believe it, it worked! Sunny was noticeably breathing again, not normally, but greatly improved. I told Allie that all we could do now, is put her back in her cage and check on her in the morning. I took her back to her cage and opened the door, but just before I put her in, she lurched for the cage door, fell from my fingertips, and landed with a SMACK, right on my foot. To our amazement, a large kernel of corn popped from her mouth and shot across the floor. That was it! She was cured! We put her in the cage and she hopped into her wheel and started running like nothing had ever happened!

Disaster averted!! But what had just happened? Then I realized.....I JUST HAD MY MOUTH ON A HAMSTER!!!!! GROSS!!!!!  I hurried back into my room and grabbed for my toothbrush. I brushed my teeth and washed my lips, face, hands and arms, up to the elbows, then I brushed again, and more washing...I couldn't shake the memory of hamster fur on my lips. (Just typing this makes me want to brush and wash, and this was 14 years ago!) Then I started to laugh...and I laughed....and I am still laughing as I recall the events of that night.

Sunny was Allie's friend for several more years, but she and I had a special "hammie-mother" bond, from that day forward. I sort of wish I knew ahead of time, that all I had to do was drop her.

I Know Why God Gives Children To Young People!

I would like to think that I am young at heart. I like to play silly games, squish clay between my fingers, and read funny stories. I've been known to play in mud puddles, ride a bike, and I LOVE a good cartoon now and then....but...

Wednesday night, while visiting my parents, I received a call from my husband, our son's wife was in the hospital awaiting a diagnosis, and he was on emergency babysitting duty.  He was just "wondering" when I would be home. (Interpretation: When are you coming to take my place?)

I arrived at bedtime, baby Grace was already asleep, "Good job, Grandpa!" and little Jackson was just about to say his prayers. After prayers, when Jackson was all tucked in, we waited downstairs for THE CALL.  It came early in the morning, appendicitis, emergency appendectomy!

I was amused at the baby's face when she saw me, instead of Daddy, at her crib rail that morning. She smiled, but then her eyebrows furrowed, as if to say, "Hey, what's going on here? This isn't right."  When I picked her up, she hugged me, and then leaned way over to  peer into her parent's room. I took her to their bed, to see for herself that they were not there, and assured her that I was not "robbing" her, somehow, of her morning nursing. She was ok with it, but still looked a little confused. This was the easy part of my day.

This is a list of the rest of our day's activities:

ten nose wipings
four bottle feedings (nursed baby, need I say more?)
six diaper changes (some not so pleasant)
twelve trips up and down the stairs
one bottom wiping
one kickball game, while holding the baby
made two breakfasts, and two lunches (some while holding baby)
one long basketball game in the playroom (dive-bombing for the ball included..you would be proud of me)
suiting up for the rain  (jackets, boots, hats, gloves)
a two minute walk in the rain, with umbrella  (Jackson was holding it, so guess who's bum was getting wet?)
undressing and hanging rain gear to dry
watch Super Why, Syd the Science Kid, and some dinosaur show on t.v.
playing with remote controlled car
a round of Super Sonny Boy to the rescue! (cape included)
build a block tower
did dishes
wiped up two spills
picked up toys, many times
ten reminders to be soft with the baby
six jumpy, jumpy, jumpies in my lap
four ride-a-horsies
five nap-time songs (after a lengthy bargaining period)
two nap times (them, not me)
made two sippys, and two snacks
a couple of reprimands, but no time-outs
lots of hugs and kisses

To make a long story not so long, (oops, too late). We had a great day, and Rhonda is doing fine, but I have gotten "soft" in retirement!  I think I need a better exercise program!

Do you think I'm two-faced?

I must say that this blogging and facebooking are wonderful things, but I wonder if I am too old for this! I accidently ended up with two facebook pages, but at least I am finally friends with myself! Now I find that I have two blogs! One was my first post, and the other was supposed to be an additional post. But alas, I have two blogs. I'm not sure whether to delete one of them or maintain them both. I'm sure, by now, that the people who know how to blog, are positive that I have a split personality. I just like to think that I am an over-achiever.

He's a pirate!

It's always interesting to take young, talking children to a public place. We took Samantha, age 3 at the time, to Costco for our regular shopping trip. We were going up and down the isles, shopping from our list, having a very uneventful time, when she saw an older man riding a scooter. He had a black eyepatch over his left eye. She exclaimed, rather loudly, "Look Grandma, he's a pirate!"  I was hoping that the man didn't hear her exclaimation, but I don't see how he couldn't have. I calmed her down and explained that he was just a man who had an "owie" on his eye.

We continued up and down the isles, only to find out that this man was also roaming up and down the isles, crossing our path in the middle of every row. Each time we saw him, Samantha made the same exclaimation, only a touch softer, sensing my embarrassment. I continued to teach her, at each encounter, that the man was just a guy with an owie.  We passed him four or five times more and by the last two times, she would still comment, but she would say, "That man has an owie on his eye."

As we were leaving, we saw him one more time and Samantha looked at me with her big brown innocent eyes, and said, "That man has a owie on his eye, huh Grandma?"  I looked over at him and finally saw what she had been seeing....he had a black eye patch, a scruffy beard, and a peg leg!

To turkey...or not to turkey?

So, my brother called me on the phone the other day and offered me a farm-fresh, home grown turkey for Thanksgiving. The catch is...it's still alive!
He is having a lot of fun giving the birds away, and watching each person react to his offer. My husband replied immediately, with no hesitation, "No!" My son-in-law said, "So I would have to kill it? Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....nah." My son, just recently home from a mission in Taiwan said, "Do we get to kill it ourselves?" I would love to have one, but the thought of killing it myself is not appetizing.
I went online to find out how to kill a turkey, because I haven't been involved in a poultry killing since I was a child, when a headless chicken escaped Dad's grip and chased Marla around the yard. She had nightmares for weeks.
There is a very "nice" video on youtube, showing the process from "lopping" to a family party afterwards, complete with music and credits. As well done as it was, it still doesn't hide the hideousness of the deed. Maybe we should just have ravioli.

Blogging.....I think I need lessons!

I think blogging and face booking are wonderful ways to stay in touch, however I am sort of technologically challenged. Recently, I found out I had two different face book pages. I guess I thought I was logging in, and actually made a second page. I tried to cancel one out, but it won't let me, so the best I could do, is ask myself to be my friend. I feel sort of silly right now, but why should I deny myself of such a good friend?
Today I realized that I also have two blogs, one was supposed to have been a post to the other, and instead, it's a whole new blog page. I wonder if those who know how to blog, and face book, think that I have a split personality; I just like to think of myself as an over-achiever.

Here they are~

Brian Dinnell

Evynn McGhie

and

Grace Rooker