Lola's surgery is on the calender

Our youngest daughter Lola's cranial surgery has been scheduled for May 9, 2009 at Children's Hospital in Birmingham. That is a Wednesday. According to the doctors, we should be in the hospital 5 days the first of which will be in ICU.

Lola has unicoronal craniosynostosis, which means one of her coronal sutures (these run from ear to ear) in her skull has fused early. Surgery is required to correct this and prevent her skull from becoming even more misshapen, keep her mid-face from twisting and allow her brain to grow evenly.

We are getting more anxious about the operation because having an actual date marked on the calender makes it so much more real. She will be just a few days shy of 11 months old when the doctors perform the operation. I know babies much younger than her have had to have surgery, but this is different because it's my baby.

When we first discovered Lola had this condition, which affects about 1 in 2,500 children, we were terrified especially because we read online about babies who had multiple complications associated with craniosynostosis.

However, after meeting with Drs. John Grant III and John Wellons, who are wonderful by the way, we felt much more at ease. Dr. Grant, who is an internationally-recognized pediatric craniofacial plastic surgeon, has performed about 1,000 of these surgeries and made us feel immediately at ease with his gentle bedside manner and the matter-of-fact way he responded to our questions and concerns. Dr. Wellons, who is a neurosurgeon, also helped us to better understand Lola's condition and see that her case is unique to her and shouldn't be compared to other children who've also received this diagnosis.

Top 5 names we almost gave our kids

My husband Jeff and I were adamant when naming both our children that they have names that couldn't be shortened into a nickname. This is a pet peeve for both of us.

When expecting our first child in 2003-04, we mulled several names:

Girl names:
1. Bianca Roxanne
2. Lydia Evangeline
3. Millicent Savannah
4. Jocelyn Harper
5. Amelia Bridget

Boy names:
1. Roderrick Sawyer
2. Douglas Nathaniel
3. John Russell Lance
4. Emmett Carlton
5. Beckett Miles

We chose Amelia Bridget for our daughter. We didn't find out beforehand whether we were having a boy or a girl, so until she was born we called the baby Hickey.

The outcome of our second pregnancy was not to be a surprise as both of us were anxious to know the gender of this child. The names we picked from included:

Girl names:
1. Celeste Sophia
2. Courtney Abigail
3. Millicent Savannah
4. Claudia Belle
5. Elizabeth Cecelia

Boy names:
1. Sean Weston
2. Samuel Owen
3. Russell Benjamin
4. Patrick Lance
5. Bradley John

In the end, we chose a name not even on our list: Lola Celeste, which we got from one of Amelia's favorite cartoons, "Charlie and Lola."

I really wanted to name her Lola Belle, but Jeff wouldn't hear of it. However, a few days after she was born I heard him call her Lola Belle. I was furious and told him he would not be calling her that, which is how she came to be known as Bean.

In an effort to break him from calling her the name I'd wanted for her from the beginning, I started calling her Lola Bean, which I have since shortened to Bean.

Amelia has had many pet names in the four years she's been in our lives. A few of these are: Missy Prissy, Missy Britches, Sunshine, Sugar Pie, Sugar Butt, Darlin', and Doodle Butt. We still often call her one or more of these names, but Doodle Butt, which has been shortened to Doodle has stuck.

I named this blog after my girls because they are my inspiration for continuing writing even though it's no longer my full time career. Additionally, they are a ever-producing source for future posts.

Since the girls have been in our lives we recognize how futile it was to work so hard trying to prevent our girls from having nicknames, especially considering we were the ones who ended up giving them their monikers.

Incidentally, for those who are curious, had Amelia been a boy her name would have been John Russell Lance after Jeff's grandfather, my daddy and Jeff. Lola would have been Sean Weston. Sean is a name we both liked, and Weston was my maternal great-grandmother's maiden name.

The drunk shirt

My momma wore a uniform. This was not a uniform required by her employer, mind you; but rather one she would don during the times she would partake of too many adult beverages.

More often than not this uniform consisted of a pair of men's running shorts, a tube top and a pair of Dr. Scholl's wooden shoes. No matter the combination of these other pieces of clothing one item was always a constant: the drunk shirt.

The drunk shirt was a man's short-sleeved, button-down white shirt. It was well-worn to the point the fabric was super-soft and so wrinkled that I doubt a professional dry cleaner could have put a crease in it.

As a child I don't recall momma ever imbibing to the point of inebriation; however my teen years were a whole other story. When she was younger Momma liked to fancy herself a social drinker who'd have the occassional scotch and soda while on a date. After I came along she and my father switched from liquor to beer - nasty Schlitz beer - likely for economic reasons.

Daddy died when I was 13. Momma was never the same after his death. Not only did she tumble head-first into a depression so deep she'd take to her room for days, but she also became, in what I am sure is record time, a full-blown alcoholic.

Her problem was magnified by the fact she was in love with an alcoholic with whom she became involved after she and daddy divorced for the second (count 'em) time. Momma's problems were made worse because this man she was with relished chastising her for being a drunk but whole-heartedly believed he didn't have a problem despite the fact he could finish off a half gallon of Canadian Mist in a couple of days.

The drunk shirt belonged to this man. In the beginning before I named it the drunk shirt, Momma wore it as sort of a de facto jacket that she would throw on to cover herself when she had to go next door to her parents' home after having worked in the yard or refinished furniture. Covering up when going to see them was not only a bow to modesty, but also expected in their uber-conservative Holiness household.

Later when she began spending whole days in clothes she normally reserved for mowing, the drunk shirt had morphed into a kind of psuedo security blanket. It's as if she retained some semplence of modesty by putting this shirt on over her white-trash ensemble. Additionally, I think she believed no one would notice she was knee-walking drunk if she put something on to cover her shoulders like a proper Southern lady.

The drunk shirt rarely was seen by members of the public. However one day more people than momma ever dreamed would see it got to glimpse this tacky attire.

It was what had become a typical Saturday - momma and her boyfriend in varying states of drunkenness and I furiously planning to spend as many hours away from both of them as I possibly could.

Rare was it that there wasn't some form of alcohol in the house, but this was one of those rare days, For reasons I do not know, it was determined momma would be the one to make the "beer run." Normally her boyfriend was the one to tackle such a task, but on this day it's entirely possible he'd reached maximum capacity.

After learning of her planned trip "to the top of the mountain" to procure more alcohol, I confronted momma begging her not to go because she'd, I believed, had already had enough to drink. When I refused to drive her to the store she made it clear she was going when she threw on the drunk shirt, grabbed her purse and keys and made tracks for the driveway.

I was both furious and scared but knew there was nothing I could do. I was 17 years old, and although she was a poor excuse for a parent, momma was the only one I had so I felt obligated to obey her when she told me to leave her alone and mind my own business,

Not wanting to be home when momma returned and not wanting to be alone with her boyfriend I made haste to go to my boyfriend's house. I was just about to walk out the door when the phone rang. I almost didn't answer it, but thinking it might be my boyfriend, I picked it up.

"Bran, it's me."

It was my momma. My heart sank, I just knew she'd been arrested or been in a wreck.

"What's the matter? I told you not to drive! Are you in jail?!"

"You've got to come get me. The car's been stolen."

"What? Stolen? Really?"

"Yes, now come get me. You ought to see what I am wearing."

"I know what you're wearing - the drunk shirt with daddy's old running shorts and that ugly tube top."

"Just hurry. I can't believe this has happened and me lookin' like this."

As I drove to the store to pick her up all I could think was she was damned lucky the police to whom she reported the theft didn't get one whiff of her and haul her butt to the county drunk tank for a nice visit to dry out. No, instead she got a scolding - albeit a deserved one - for leaving her Caddy running while she dashed in the store for a six-pack and a couple of liters.

Momma got home and swore she'd never wear the aforementioned ensemble to town again. Note she did not swear to never drink and drive again, which is how she did later secure an overnight stay in the drunk tank.

The car was found unharmed a few days later at a local convenience store. Momma stayed true to her word - she never did wear the drunk shirt in public another time. However, she did hang on to it.

Even after she got sober, momma kept that shirt. Maybe as a reminder of what her life once was or maybe to keep her from going back there. I don't know. I never asked her.

After momma died in May 2007 at the too-young age of 65 I found the drunk shirt admist her belongings in the utility room closet. I brought it home with me, had a good laugh with my husband about its origins and eventually donated it to The Salvation Army where it can have a new life untainted by its unsavory past.

I've held onto a lot of momma's things, but I was ready to let go of the drunk shirt and the memories that came with it. After all, I learned the lesson, I don't need to keep the lesson book.

Thirty-four random things

In honor of my dear friend Sunny's 34th birthday, I have compiled my own list of 34 random things about me:

1. I love reading memoirs about dysfunctional families because they make me feel better about and better understand my own family, which is chock full of nuts.

2. My first job out of college was as a production, promotions and news assistant for The Rick and Bubba Radio Network.

3. I met my husband when I was 14 and in the 8th grade. We met in April pf 1988. I knew before the end of summer that he would one day be my husband. Just over 10 years later we were married.

4. I am so organized it borders on being obsessive-compulsive.

5. I have a skin condition called keratosis pilaris, which causes me to have raised bumps on my skin. It's gotten worse as I have gotten older. I unconsciously "pick" these bumps when I am anxious. I am trying desperately to quit because my arms, chest and legs look so bad.

6. I despise shaving my legs, but do it regularly because I hate even more how my legs feel when they are not shaved.

7. I don't make friends easily.

8. I have an unnatural fear of walking across old-time wooden bridges or suspension bridges for fear of falling through the cracks.

9. I still harbor bitterness against my momma for not quitting smoking and dying as a result of her choice.

10. Procrastinate horribly, but have gotten better about this since having children.

11. Am easily swayed by salesmen/women.

12. Indulge in a pedicure one to two times a month because I cannot cut my own toenails without causing them to become ingrown.

13. Considered entering pharmacy school, but backed out for fear of not being able to pass the math and science courses. Worked off and on for 12 years as a pharmacy technician instead. Loved it.

14. Love looking at great photographs by artists such as Annie Liebovitz, Herb Ritts and Scavullo.

15. Read "PostSecret" website every Sunday. Can often relate to the posts.

16. Love being a housewife, but hate cleaning house. Got burned out by my mom who seriously was a compulsive cleaner.

17. I am horribly nearsighted. Would love to be able to afford LASIK surgery,

18. Absolutely love the movie "Almost Famous" because it mirrors my teenage ambition to write about rock-n-roll for "Rolling Stone."

19. Suffer from sleep apnea and have to wear a CPAP machine to bed every night to keep me from stopping breathing while I am asleep. Hate it. Working to come off of it.

20. Have a dog, but am not a dog person. Daisy is really my husband's and daughter's dog. I am crazy about our lazy, fat cat Mojo.

21. Truly love PopSecret Homestyle popcorn. My local grocery store stopped stocking it so now I order it by the case from Amazon.com.

22. Held a grudge against two family members for 10 years. We've since reconciled and are closer than ever.

23. Rarely carry bills or change in my wallet. Use my debit card for probably 99-percent of my transactions.

24. I always make sure to send birthday, anniversary and Christmas card to family and my closest friends.I love getting cards so I figure others do too.

25. I cannot abide clutter. It makes me terribly anxious. Feel compelled to keep order.

26. Had a tubal ligation after the birth of my second daughter. Have no regrets about my decision.

27. Still sometimes use childhood words for objects. Example: quackalator for calculator, lumbo for umbrella, goosebus for school bus.

28. Think most of the members of my momma's family are self-centered. I work daily to be mindful of others because I don't want to be like them.

29. I cannot stand hypocrisy.

30. Love the look of flowers and plants, but have a terrible black thumb. Dream of having the funds to hire a landscaper to not only plant the gardens of my dreams but also maintain them.

31. Can watch reruns of "Roseanne," "Designing Women," "The Cosby Show," "Friends," "Malcolm in the Middle" and "The Office" over and over.

32. Keep the ashes of my mother and her cat on top of my entertainment center in their respective urns.

33. Worry terribly because we haven't yet made out our wills.

34. Have a recurring dream about being back in high school and being either unable to find or unable to open my locker.