Caelan Naomi Brannon

    Three years ago, on December 5th, I checked into the hospital, anxiously awaiting the arrival of my second little bundle. Caelan's pregnancy and birth was so different from Evelynn, I should have known that her character and temperament would be completely different from Evelynn's as well. We decided to induce as early as allowed so that Caelan could be born without the birth injury that Evelynn had when she was born. Truth be told, however, Caelan did not want to be born. It was going to be done on her terms (like many other aspects of her daily life). So, we were sent home to wait yet another week.
    The week rolled by, my Mom had been in town for two weeks waiting for Miss Caelan to arrive. My sister was also due at the same time, but in Arizona and not near Pennsylvania. The evening before my mother left for Arizona, I went back to the hospital for a second try at induction. We were admitted and allowed to stay. We settled into our room, listening to Caelan's heartbeat and general hum of hospital life. I brought a couple of books and read both of them before the break of dawn. All the while listening to the woman next door (we unfortunately shared a linen closet/hall with her room) who I promise believed herself to be in the throes of death. After a few hours of this, I finally asked my nurse if the woman was, in fact dying. That was negative. She was at the beginning of her birthing process as well. Oh, my. Later on I would ask my nurse to please walk next door and slap the lady-- or at least give her an epidural. Unfortunately, again, she'd had one since almost the moment she had arrived. The nurses kindly made sure that both doors separating us were closed.
    For all the horror stories of being induced and the use of pitocin, I was really not bothered for about 10 hours. Nope, I was blissfully engrossed in my books, rarely interrupted (except for the random agony next door). Everything progressed easily and I was told that by 9am (December 11th), we'd be holding this little baby. While this was taking place, a dear friend was driving my mother to Philadelphia to catch a plane to Phoenix. And then this little baby decided she REALLY was not ready to leave the warmth of her mother's womb, or better still, that she was slightly larger than what I could physically handle. By noon, I was beyond exhaustion, Keith was not doing as well either. I had already been wheeled into the OR around 10am. Nothing. No baby. I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY did not ever want to go the C-Section route. I have a serious phobia of needles. I'm not kidding. (I had an anxiety attack, couldn't breath, and blacked out when I got my IV in place for McKenna's birth). And there was no way, a needle was going to be stuck in my spine. But like I said, by noon, I was done. Well past any physical endurance/pain I'd ever experienced in my life.
    The doctor came in around 1:30 and suggested a C-Section if nothing commenced in the next hour. I told him 30 minutes if not sooner. I had not had these difficulties with Evelynn, so the growing concern was injury to Caelan. C-Section? Bring it on. I fell asleep while they administered the spinal block and then at 2:40, Caelan Naomi Brannon was among us and not happy with the situation. I would never encourage someone to have a C-Section unless it was absolutely necessary, but I should have gone with the suggestion earlier in the day. In less than 45 minutes, the procedure was done and I was in recovery. Pretty crazy, if you think about it. Every layer of skin and muscle and the womb are opened, a baby is removed and then everything sewn back up. Keith was impressed. Actually more than impressed, he thought it was cool, in a 'science experiment' kind of way. Ummmm, yeah, I cut him off when he began the play-by-play of the procedure. And just an FYI, you will never know just how 'connected' your body is until you've had abdominal surgery. Sneezing, coughing, blowing your nose, brushing your teeth, sitting up straight, rolling over in bed, etc. is all connected at your core. I'm just saying.
    Her birth was just as special (if not how it had been planned) as the baby herself. Our little Caelan, tiny 12/11/07 herself. She is beautiful and quite the force of nature. Personality oozes from every pore in her tiny body. Our petite child who takes life as she wants it. Imaginitive, fearless, and such a joy to be around, not only to see what she will do next but for the sweet way she wraps her arms around your neck and snuggles close.

P.S. My niece was born 17 hours after Caelan was born. My mother barely making it in time and begging us (the two sisters) to never, ever have children that close together again.

The Song About Alice

I enjoy imparting songs from decades past to my children, but today my children have stared at me as I have sung this song. Oh, yes, I will be the complete embarrassment of them when they are teens if I'm already getting the "She's crazy" looks from a four year old and a three year old. And would you believe me, after reading the lyrics that the melody and harmony are quite lovely?

This is the story of Alice
Told without any malice
Alice is loved by Algernon
And there's no wondering
For Alice is very beautiful
Is beautiful, is beautiful, is beautiful
Except for one little thing

Her nose, it glows
It's red and it's graphic
It lights up in traffic
But Alice is loved by Algernon
And there's no wondering
For Alice is very beautiful
Is beautiful, is beautiful, is beautiful
Except for one little thing

Her hair despair
You've heard of a crewcut
She's got nothing to cut
But Alice is loved by Algernon
And there's no wondering
For Alice is very beautiful
Is beautiful, is beautiful, is beautiful
Except for one little thing

Her tooth for sooth
Now what could be droller
A smile with one molar
But Alice is loved by Algernon
And there's no wondering
For Alice is very beautiful
Is beautiful, is beautiful, is beautiful
Except for one little thing
Trala trala trala trala trala trala

You've heard of the story Alice
Told without any malice
Alice is fond of Algernon
And there's no wondering
For Algy is quite a handsome lad
A handsome lad, a handsome lad
Except for one little thing

His skin, chagrin
It's veined and spotted and speckled and dotted
But Alice is fond of Algernon
And there's no wondering
For Algy is quite a handsome lad
A handsome lad, a handsome lad
Except for one little thing

His voice, rejoice
It's cackled and chronic and stereophonic
His beard, it's weird
It's terribly horrid and grows from his forehead

His eyes, surprise!

One final word about Alice
Told without any malice
Alice broke off with Algernon
And there's no wondering
Now Algy is just a memory
A memory, a memory, a memory
Except for one litle thing.
Tra la la la lal la la, tra la la la la la la
Tra la la, tra la la
Tra la la la la la (last line sung as a lullaby)

Christmas 2010

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All is Calm, All is Bright

    Another long day of work for my husband, a typical 14.5 hour day. Another day that ends with his drive home and a long phone call to me. Another day where he seems undervalued and our future teeters on the promise of security. But the skeptic in me says what security? I must have been young and blissfully ignorant of the need for a definite security only a few years ago. As newlyweds we hopped around from one address to another, content and excited about the unknown. We finally settled down in 2005 and I was thrilled when we had reached, then surpassed the three year mark in our home. We had been settled for longer than we had roamed.
    I still have moments where I want another adventure, but for the sake of 'newness' and not for a lack of contentment or joy in my current circumstances. I will go anywhere my husband needs to be, but after five years, the roots are much deeper than previously. It's easy to pick up and go after thirteen months or six weeks. After five years, my eyes and heart burn at the thought of any potential move. And to clarify, there is not the potential of anything right now. We are staying put for as long as we can. I do know that for my husband to feel fulfilled in his job and the longs hours he works to be worth it, a move might be necessary.
    So after tonight's conversations, I hit a low. I've been in the dumps for two weeks now. Bah Humbug strangely becoming my mantra and negativity reigning in my mind. I am the positive thinker in our relationship. I should not be the one as affected, but I am. My heart's between a rock and a hard place. I don't want to consider possibilities. I don't want my husband coming home after a negative day at work. He absolutely loves what he does, which is why he stays. It's certain people that make it difficult. Isn't that per the usual? We sacrifice much as a family and he gives an incredible chunk of time to do what he loves. So why can't the right people recognize that? WHY?
    It's eleven o'clock at night. My emotions are unhinged, righteous indignation towards those who would make things difficult for him, stress over any potential changes in our future, and tears over what those changes could bring. I know that I would embrace any change that could come, that's my nature. But the negative thoughts can't be quelled. Then stupid Jango.com's Christmas station breaks into my cynical thoughts. Josh Groban's version of Silent Night. I hear "... All is calm, all is bright..." and my immediate reaction is 'Yeah, right. There is nothing calm and bright about this.' Then I remember that this song is not about me and my earthly situations. All is calm and all is bright because of Jesus.
    All my worries, no matter how necessary they seem to be or a future that seems to be wavering, have not been put in proper perspective. They have not been placed before the One who can hold my burdens and can smooth the negative ripples in my soul or the hurt that has heavily placed itself upon me. That's why he was born. I can 'sleep in heavenly peace' now.

Silent night, holy night

All is calm, all is bright

Round yon Virgin Mother and Child

Holy Infant so tender and mild

Sleep in heavenly peace

Sleep in heavenly peace

Silent night, holy night!

Shepherds quake at the sight

Glories stream from heaven afar

Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!

Christ, the Saviour is born

Christ, the Saviour is born

Silent night, holy night

Son of God, love's pure light

Radiant beams from Thy holy face

With the dawn of redeeming grace

Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth

Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth "

Christmas Croak

Oh, rest you, merry gentlemen!

Let nothing you dismay;

But be prepared to meet the woes

That come with Christmas Day

Look out! Look out! You winter clothes,

To face the season's ills;

And muster cash and fortitude

To meet your Christmas bills.

And 'tis tidings of comfort and joy.

 ~Robert B. Brough, 1852

    Boxes, bows, tinsel, ornaments, unplaced Christmas cheer litter every available surface and spill onto the floor. A puddle of child-caused gooiness begs for a mop's attention. Of eleven strings of lights, only four work. Gifts sit idly waiting for the moment they are bedecked in jolly green, gold and red paper. Packages need shipping, cards sit in piles waiting for stamps and addresses. Christmas photos have yet to be taken. The girls have made their own mountain out of the laundry for skiing. The culprit from all the disorganization is the disgusting sickness that our household has endured in this first week of December. The Spirit of Christmas is lost in this mess and only Perry Como can induce any kind of joy for what is generally my favorite season, but even that is short-lived.
    Christmas music has been known to play in my home as early as October (okay, maybe even September). The tree has always been up by the end of Thanksgiving weekend. Lights should be glistening in the dark around our front door by now. The autumn wreath is still hanging on the front door. The Christmas wreath uncertain why it still remains in the attic. The Christmas village is still boxed. Of the two gifts I had figured to be a surprise for Keith, he has figured out. One was my fault for leaving the stupid window open on the computer. The other is his fault. For those of you reading this, it is to your benefit not to try to buy something you want for yourself mere weeks before Christmas. Your spouse may try to hint that you are already getting it and if you don't take the hint, they might not be so happy to tell you that they have gotten it. Said husband also left a door open that has been ardently monitored for a week, and Caelan found her 'big' gift.  So not many surprises (which are my favorite part) this year. Well, at least Evelynn should have a surprise or two.
    Desperately wishing I could get into the spirit of things, I watch Evelynn wanting to enjoy every second she can of all things Christmas. "I want to help decorate, can you make snowman cookies, jingle bell-jingle bell-jingle bell rock, I am Santa's Helper- see my hat? Where are the presents that are supposed to go under the tree? There are no toys in the stocking either. I looked. Oh, it sparkles and it's beautiful. Can we watch Rudolf? Can we watch Grinch? Can we listen to Polar Express? Can we listen to Christmas music?  Hearing her sing: I'm wishing on a star and trying to believe, That even though it's far, He'll find me Christmas Eve--- The best time of the year, when everyone comes home, With all this Christmas cheer, it's hard to be alone, Putting up the Christmas tree with friends who come around, It's so much fun when Christmas comes to town." Merry Christmas, Mom. Merry Christmas, Caelan. Merry Christmas, McKenna. Merry Christmas, Dad.
I figure I have four things going for me at this point:  1) The tree is up and decorated 2) I have most of the shopping done. 3) I'm not headed to Dixie's sunny shore this year. 4) Evelynn has enough Christmas Spirit for the whole family.