Friday Fragments: Scene 3 & hatching chicks

Have really begun to look forward to Half-Past Kissin' Time... Time To Kiss Again
 

Besides meeting wonderful new bloggers who develop into cyber-friends, it gets me posting about the "happenings" in our lives that are important for posterity's sake, but wouldn't make it to the blog otherwise: after all, there are only so many hours in a day and that family I blog about does need the ocassional "tending to"!

Click on the button above to link-up and play. :)

* Miss Gracie's pediatric urology appointment finally came around yesterday: 7 weeks out from the pediatrician's referral.  Has our narcissistic Prez's self-proclaimed ground-breaking, "fix-it for good" health care plan, which includes killing the people he proclaims to help with it (see the bill's plan for the elderly and abortion), already winding its spidery fingers throughout my healthcare?  And of course I have to use code words like "Prez" and sound like a literary lounge lizard for fear of reprisal from his internet police.  Next thing I know they're knocking on my door, with his agricultural police behind them ready to confiscate my garden.  Up until this point, we have been blessed with amazing physicians and specialists with bedside manners, experience and skill leaving naught to be desired.  

One particular physician demanding to be noted, my OB/GYN, always comes to mind when I count my many blessings.

This wonderful man delivered Miss Gracie and Punk: reason enough to lay my loyalty at his doorstep.  However, this remarkable Dr. went above and beyond his calling, redefining "doctoring" when he walked alongside me through 3 miscarriages.  He mourned with me.  He held my hand and wiped my sweaty brow as I was wheeled down that green mile for a DNC.  Go to bat for him?  Hot coals?  Bring it on!

But I digress.  I've noticed I do that alot.  Perhaps I need to start a meme...something along the lines of "A Rantin' Thursday" or something similar for "venting" purposes!  Anyways, once again, back to the subject at hand. ;)  Guess our successful running streak with doctors was bound to end at some point.  And end it did in this particular Specialist's office.  Just as a good many vertically-challenged people cater to what I've heard dubbed a "Napoleon Complex", somewhere along the way, the phrase "God Complex" in the same breath as "doctor" has been mentioned.  Perhaps you've been in one of these said physician's audience at one time or another?  In this case, the NP (Nurse Practitioner) and Dr. were discussing the details of Miss Gracie's urinalysis.  During this brief, but very important discussion, neither looked at me nor addressed me: no acknowledgment WHATSOEVER!  And being without a medical training background, minus the humble on-the-job-training one gets as a mother, their jargon was just that, gibberish jargon...a foreign language.  At one point I heard the word "low" and caught a fleeting, concerned look pass over the Dr,'s face.  Without hesitation and much aplomb (and perhaps a bit of glee) I quickly became the rude, obnoxious person in the crowd interrupting the performance.  Miss Gracie herself, however, saved what could have turned into a cold and rigid affair.  During the course of this entire exchange, she had sat on the bed brushing her hair (unlike her mother, she takes her purse everywhere).  Not long after insinuating myself in that conversation I should have been a part of in the first place, she quite collectively put her brush away, zipped it closed, gave a "Hurumph" and looked at us as if to say, "Are we done here, yet?"  Even the Dr. laughed out loud!  Have no doubt the phrase "breaking the ice" was coined after a child!

* Our church held its Spring Revival earlier this week.

 

It turned out to be a Revival like no other.  Our Lord, Jesus Christ, saw fit to work through our visiting pastor, Dr. Phil Hoskins, and answer part of my most fervent prayers: mySamuelson made the most important choice of his life.  Visit my "Wordless Wednesday" post, A Roman road... A perfect choice... for the entire story.

* mySamuelson had a pretty eventful week, for on top of ensuring his destiny, he was accompanied by his paternal grandmother, Grandmaw Janice, and the kids' adopted, resident Granny, Granny Carolyn, to a special school play called "Fixin' the Fence".  The High School Seniors and teachers put it together along with a tea and autograph signing party that immediately followed the performance.

On the way out the door...

 

* Two of our 37 incubated eggs hatched Sunday afternoon!  Was sitting here at my desk in the office, blogging away of course!  Suddenly, I hear a, "Kerthump!"  I looked around for a fallen comrade, Miss Gracie's one-paw-on-the-rocker-one-paw-off-kitten and its senseless antics...  The quick visual scan revealed notta.  I glanced over at the incubator sitting on my Hope Chest and thought, "Hmmmm... not supposed to hatch until tomorrow, but just in case..."  I sauntered over there, saw this...

and all heck broke loose as I screamed for my camera and the kids and they screamed for Dad, which all resulted in senseless, frantic sprints and panic-laced garble.  Moments to never forget!

That's the good news.  Have come to realize there's always some type of bad news that leeches itself to the good.  {Aside: Thanks alot Adam & Eve!}  Neither chick lived. :(  The first chick was flourishing until the second one arrived on the scene.  Other than a small hole the second one managed to peck out, he/she couldn't break free, so as researchers suggest, I assisted.

There are a number of probable reasons to explain why the chick was sickly from the beginning.  Anything from a "bad egg" to inadequate humidity (that was hard to maintain) could have caused it.  Not realizing that its body would be spreading bacteria as it died, I didn't remove the other chick.  In all likelihood, this was the healthy chick's cod (cause of death).  mySamuelson, as my sensitive child, took it hard.  While we don't want to shield him from the oftentimes grim reality of life (though only allowing that which he is developmentally prepared for to hit him), we also want to help him lay claim to Christ's promise to all of His children in Jeremiah 29:11, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  Thus, the day after the healthy chick passed, Sugar found some baby chicks for sale and brought home 6. :)  

Regardless of the sad outcome of our first incubation experience, mySamuelson summed it all up quite matter-of-factly with his repeated proclamations that, "Well, I guess I'm a grandpa now!"

Not wanting to leave you with the "bad" in mind, and to accompany that chuckle mySamuelson's quote surely brought about, below are some pics of the first few minutes following the discovery of the chicks birth... Definitely breeds warm fuzzies. :)