Tuesday, August 5, 2014

How A Baby Is Born

Yesterday my daughter sent me a text. Apparently my grandson
is curious about how babies are born. My daughter is pregnant, 
so my grandson asked how the baby will get out of her stomach.
Smiling anyone? Well, let me tell you a story...

It was three weeks before Christmas, my brother, my children
and myself were out hunting for a Christmas tree. I decided
it would be great fun to cut our own tree down. So we drove
to the tree farm, or so I thought. It turned out to be a muddy
plowed farm field. Not to be discouraged by this adventure
we climbed through the field until we reached the trees.
The first tree was way to small, the second tree was just right, nice and big. My brother chopped the tree down and we carried it to
my car, it was extremely heavy. I owned a Chevette.
 We got to the car, put the back seat 
down and tried to fit the tree in. What a project, the tree was huge!
There was barely room for us to get in. 

On the way home I was thinking, wow that was well done, when
my daughter asked how do babies get out of your vagina when
it is so small. Well that certainly brought me 
out of Christmas dreams. I had to think quickly, how do I 
explain to a 5 yr old, in simple terms, how babies are born?
I know my brother was waiting to hear how I was going to get
out of this one. My sons' ears were perked up as well, he did
not have a clue either. You could hear a pin drop in that car as everyone waited for an answer. 

I finally told my daughter a vagina was like a really big rubber band,
it starts out small and then gets bigger. She said oh, ok and was 
off onto a different subject. I, on the other hand, was exhausted.

**Just in case your interested, the tree had to be cut to fit the
    height of the room. It also fell down after it was fully
    decorated, but that's another story. Oh and after Christmas,
    when I was taking it down, I found a birds nest in it.

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Quiet Reflection Sunday

Let every dawn be to you as the beginning of life,
and every setting sun be to you as its close.

John Ruskin

LIFE ON THE SIDEWALK a photo essay

As most of you know I move in a wheelchair. My observations are different than someone who walks. Quite simply, I'm lower to the gro...