1998
Well, it’s January 18th, and I’m still writing this letter. Actually, I just scrapped the one I’ve been working on since last year; and because of a few snafus I’m starting anew.
THE EVELYN WOODS VERSION OF THE LETTER
January Kelsey had an extremely bad asthma attack. She is now using a nebulizer. Sebastian had a hernia operation. The dog had knob operations. We have a new address. We are now a family of six. And almost all of us are one year older.
A BREATH OF FRESH AIR
Last January Kelsey had a very bad asthma attack. It was so bad that her doctor upgraded her asthma from moderate to moderate/severe. (Not the kind of upgrade I was looking for). After allergy testing Kelsey (which was not a pretty sight - 32 sticks and 4 injections under the skin. It all came back negative. Thank you, Lord), she was put on a nebulizer twice a day every day indefinitely. She is on the same amount of medication, but the nebulizer is able to get 50% more medicine into her lungs than inhalers. So as a result, Kelsey has not had a bad asthma attack all year, and she has not seen a doctor for asthma all year! WOW!
MOMMY I HAVE A TUMMY ACHE
Sebastian rarely complains of pain, so it was really odd that he kept complaining of a stomach ache. So we did what all good parents do - we told him to go to the bathroom. He said that he didn’t feel better, but in the morning he did. The next night we did what all the other good parents do - we told him not to eat so much. "Eat only until you are just full - not stuffed. Okay?" "Okay. But I didn’t know I was so full." "Well, just pay attention." "Okay." This went on for a couple of weeks, and then it was time for us to "just pay attention." So after a visit with the doctor and then to a surgeon, Sebastian was scheduled for surgery on April 2nd (he went to the doctor in January) because we were having a very bad cold and flu season, and they wanted Sebastian to have the best chance of being healthy at the time of surgery. They also would have done something right away, but Sebastian was not suffering that much.
So we got approval from the insurance company. Sebastian came through surgery like a champ. And then the insurance company hit us with a bill that was staggering. Well, it seems that our insurance company only approves things for 3 months at a time. So the approval ran out on March 31st. After a few well placed phone calls, we got the whole thing straightened out.
OUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was March. March is usually a pretty safe month unless you’re Julius Caesar, or unless your Mike and you wait until almost the last minute to do taxes. The year before it was April 13th and Mike found out that we had the wrong form. So the next day I was scrambling all over town trying to find a needle in a haystack and getting lectures about waiting until the last minute to do my taxes. "No not me - my husband. HE waited until last night. Not me." "Sure, lady, whatever you say. But we don’t have any more of those forms." But lucky for Mike one of my church connections finally paid off. A guy helping me with the church picnic had an extra booklet. So this year (last year) Mike thought he would start in March. Of course I had been nagging him for at least a month. "Please, honey. What if we owe this year." "We won’t owe anything. Stop worrying so much." "Okay. If you’re sure." "I’m sure." Well, the final calculation was - well, let’s just say it wasn’t a pretty sight. "I thought you said we were fine." "Well, I thought we were. I don’t know. I did it twice and came up with the same number, so I’m pretty sure it’s right." "Perfect." "What?" "The school sent home pre-registration/deposit forms today. They’re collecting a month early this year, and they’ve raised the deposit $75 per child and the monthly payment went up $50." "Oh. So what’s for supper." "We only have enough to feed the children. Besides we both could lose some weight."
So this year we’re starting in February. I hope it’s soon enough.
I EXERCISE, SO HOW COME I’M NOT GETTING ANY SKINNIER?
Every morning for the past year (this being March now), I get up at 6:00 am and race walk 4 miles in about 52 minutes. I feel great. I lost about 10 lbs. I was working my way into a size 5. Yes, it’s true; I hate to brag - okay maybe I don’t, but I worked hard for those 10 lbs. AND those sizes. And my size 6’s were getting loose - too loose. I let out a triumphant and wicked hysterical laugh. "Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
And God smote them. His judgment swift, and His punishment terrible.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! How did this happen! My size 6 pants were getting tighter. I worked out harder. They got tighter and tighter until I could not button them. I jump on the scale; I weigh less. I put on my pants, but this time I thought I would try something different. Instead of putting them on one leg at a time like all other "men," I thought I would try both legs at the same time and see if I had any better luck. The pants still would not button and barely zipped. I was depressed. I was tired. I was nauseous. Oh no! I couldn’t be! Oh man, I should have know that fasting during Lent was too easy this year! Oh God! Et tu Brute?! (Like I said - March is usually a pretty safe month).
Well, you haven’t experienced all there is in life until you buy a pregnancy test with three children. "Hey Mom." "Ya" "What are we shopping for?" "Oh, just something for Mommy." "What?" "Oh, just something." "Hey, we’ve never been down this isle before." "Ya we have. You just don’t remember." It’s been so long; things have changed so much. Not that I really wanted to know how much things had changed, but things being what they were I started reading boxes. "Hey Mom, let’s get this one. It’s pink." "No let’s get this one it has two in it. It says so on the box." "But this one’s cheaper." "Look guys, I’m so glad you can read now, really, and I know you’re just trying to be helpful; but I’ll decide. Okay?" "Okay." Grumble, grumble, grumble. "Is that all we’re getting? Just that one thing?" "Yep." "What is it?" "I’ll tell you later." "Why?" "Because." "Mom!" "Come on guys. I’ll tell ya later. Okay? I promise." And as if I were not having enough fun already, the guy at the checkout stand was even more fun. I could write a book on the looks he was giving me. By this time the kids were getting restless, and I was feeling like an add for birth control.
They’re all watching T.V. Now’s my chance. "Hey, where’s Mommy?" "I don’t know. Look in the bathroom." "Mommy, are you in there?" "Yes." "The door’s locked. I can’t get in." "I know. I’ll be out in a minute." Bang, bang, bang. "What’s wrong?" "Mommy, won’t open the door?" "She’s probably going potty. I’ll open it for you. Hey, Mom, the door’s locked." "I know." "Well, how are we suppose to get in?" "When I’m done, I’ll open the door. Okay?" "But you’ve never locked the door before." "Yes, I have. You just don’t remember." Fingers under the door. Shuffling around. "Can you see anything?" "Ya, a little." "What do you see?" "Her toes." "Oh." "Hey, what are you guys doing?" "Mommy’s got the door locked." "Why?" "That’s what we want to know." "Mommy, the door’s locked." "I know. Look, you guys, can’t I just go to the bathroom by myself!" "Well, you never have before." "YES I HAVE. YOU JUST DON’T REMEMBER. NOW GO AWAY, please."
One pink line. Two pink lines. TWO PINK LINES!!!!!!! "God, I love surprises, and I appreciate a good sense of humor as much as any one, but…..Valentine’s Day should be banned! My waist! All my hard work! Oh Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, please help me!
"Daddy!" "Hi guys." "Mommy’s acting weird." "Oh? Were you guys bad today?" "No." "Let’s eat supper, and we’ll talk. Okay?" "Okay, Mom." "Well, what would you think if we had another baby?" "Oh, cool!" "All right!" "Yea!" "Well, that’s good because Mommy is pregnant." "Oh, WOW! Mom, that is so cool!" "I hope it’s a girl." "No! It has to be a boy. We already have two stinky girls!" "Now guys, let’s be nice." Well, the dinner table wasn’t boring that night anyway.
So after talking about keeping secrets, we all made a trip to the doctor. I went prepared to fight. I was feeling old (too old for kids), I was feeling nauseous, I was living in a two bedroom apartment, I wasn’t going to take any crap from anyone. I was loaded for bear. The doctor walked in. "So I’m gathering that this was not a planned pregnancy?" "No." "I know just how you feel. I have 5. They go from 30 to 14." Well, okay, my life was looking pretty good now. "Now you do realize, Mrs. Forbush, that with your history and your age your chances of having twins is greater than not." "Oh." The ultrasound showed one healthy fetus. Yes! There is a God!
Everything was going fine except that I was gaining weight at a phenomenal rate. Usually I have a lot of trouble gaining weight. I got big fast. "You have any questions or concerns?" "Well, I seem to be getting awfully big and seem to be gaining a lot of weight." "Well, you are older and this is your fourth child, so your body remembers how it use to be." "I was just worried about that pregnancy diabetes." "Well, we’ll have you take a test, but I’m sure you’ll be fine." "Okay." But the whole way driving home, I’m trying to figure out why my body can remember being pregnant but cannot remember how thin I was before I started having kids. Explain that. (I’m thinking it’s probably a case of selective memory or that God is a man type spirit thing or both).
So I drank the drink, got stabbed, and failed. I did the special diet for one week, drank the drink, got stabbed 4 times, and failed. Just as I had feared, I had gestational diabetes. Now, this was going to be fun. It meant seeing a dietitian every week to see if you needed a new diet from the week before or is you needed to be put on insulin. It meant taking my blood 4 times a day. It meant measuring my food (all food - even fruit. For example you can only have 4 inches of banana). It meant no seconds except protein. It meant only so much weight gain. It meant eating at certain times of the day and only at that time of the day. It meant exercising at certain times of the day for certain amounts of time. It meant writing down everything I ate, how much I ate, and at what time I ate it. It meant writing what I did for exercise, how long I did it, and at what time I did it. Which would all be fine, except that I have 3 kids. I eat when I can, and I was as big as a house; so I had stopped exercising. So this was a real pain in the, well you know. And the diet was so strict that my kids were eating more than I was. I had 2 ½ months to go, I had gained 13 ½ lbs; I could do this. But the worst part of the whole thing was of course the increased risks to the baby - most of which had to do with the baby dying.
By the time it was all said and done, I was a crab, no that’s being too nice, I’m sure I was a real witch - w + b. My friends said that I looked like dead pregnant woman walking. My doctor said I looked like a basketball with 4 toothpicks sticking out. I had gained only 1 ½ lbs for a 15 lb total weight gain. Even for me this was a bit low. My hip bones stuck out, and you could count my ribs. My life revolved around a clock. Every movement had to made at a certain time so it wouldn’t interfere with mealtime, snack time, exercise time, or check my blood time.
"AND BECAUSE THERE WAS NO ROOM AT THE INN…."
"Well, the way I see it we have about a year before we need to panic because the baby can stay in the cradle until it’s 6 months old." "Ya, but it’s getting pretty ridiculous around here." "But if we start searching now, we might be able to find something by then."
It was June. School was out. Things were relaxing UNTIL the renewal of our lease came up. Our rent went up $200 a month! I began making calls on anything that looked bigger than our apartment. But everyone was responding to the big influx of people. Everything was going up at alarming rates - buying or renting. Most 3 or 4 bedroom apartments/homes were renting for $2,500 to $3,000 a month.
The housing market in California has become so ludicrous that new rules were made to help people get into houses. They now had 5%, 3%, 2%, 1%, and 0% down. So we jumped. But because we were a blooming, blossoming family, we needed a large house. The house we needed was about $500,000 to $800,000 in Sunnyvale.
This is a story about a man named Mike who was pecking at his computer just to keep his family fed. Then one day he was cruising the internet and up pop the screen a financier; a good mortgage loan financial guy; a low percent down financial guy. Well next the thing you know Ol’ Mike got a loan, and the folks say, "Hey move away from there!" So he loaded up the truck and moved to Hollister, earthquake capital of the world, where the real movers and shakers live.
Now, now, it’s not as bad as you think or is it? Supposedly, it is safer here because they have these constant small earthquakes; so the pressure is constantly relieved. Whereas in a place like Sunnyvale, the pressure builds up; so when an earthquake does hit it is big and does a lot of damage.
However, we are talking about me - a disaster just waiting to happen. "You realize that by signing this check for earthquake insurance that we will have an earthquake now." "Now Colleen, this is your first home, and you’re a little nervous. I know I was when we bought our first house. As an insurance agent I’ve seen it all, I was here when the big one hit in San Francisco. And your house is well built. You’ll be fine." The next day as I am getting out of the shower I hear, "Oh, just shut up." "What?" "There was an earthquake measuring 5.6 just ten miles from our house." "So what’s left?" "I don’t know; I’ll have to call the real estate agent." Well, the house was still standing with no damage.
YOU MOVED WHERE?!
Hollister is this quaint little town that is slowly losing its orchards to "progress" that is about 1 hour south of Sunnyvale. It is becoming the new place to move to because the Bay Area is becoming SO expensive and there is a shortage of housing especially affordable housing.
Our house? Oh, ya, our house. Well, it’s about 2200 sq.ft. on about a quarter acre lot, great kitchen (lots of cabinets and counter space), nice living room/dining room area, small family room, 4 bedrooms (1 down, 3 up), 3 full baths (1 down, 2 up), and indoor laundry room (which is a big deal out here - most are in the garage).
FROM THE CITY TO THE DUMP
Unfortunately, moving into our house was less than a perfect experience. First, the people said that they would not move out unless we made them. They wanted to wait until their other house was finished being remodeled. Apparently the contractor had fallen behind and had no idea when he would be done. But school was starting in two days, we had already turned in our keys at the apartment, and our truck was already loaded with our possessions; so we did what any desperate, now homeless people would do - we drove to Hollister and threw them out. Luckily 80% of their stuff was gone. By 9:00pm they were gone, but not without leaving behind the biggest mess you ever saw in your life. It was so bad that our real estate agent took pictures and sent them to their real estate agent. Who then sent over maids for 2 hours - which barely put a dent into any of the mess. It took ½ of a 32 gallon trash can to empty all of the expired/open food out of the kitchen. It took about 40 hours to clean the kitchen alone. The bathrooms were scary; you’ll just have to take my word for it. There were bits of food in every room including the closets! And of course we had ants - everywhere. They broke two light fixtures and took a ceiling fan. They totally wreck the walls moving out, so we’ll have to repaint the whole inside. It looks like someone held a car race in our house, and the cars drove on the walls. They broke the handles off of the oven and the microwave, and they broke the screen door beyond repair. They also did not give all of the keys upon purchase of the house and were letting themselves in while we were gone (neighbors can be helpful), and they would not give us the remote to the garage until brow beaten into it. They left us a dead refrigerator, a dead dishwasher, a dead lawn mower, broken furniture, and a bunch of garbage in the yard. The windows were so dirty, we could not even see out of some of them. And mold - don’t even go there; it was everywhere.
AMONG MICE AND MEN
Ya, you guessed it; the house also came with friends. The first night our dog apparently wounded one with her fangs (she’s missing her front teeth), it crawled into our oven drawer, unbeknownst to me, I turned on our gas oven to CLEAN. So the next night Mike and I were cleaning the kitchen (I was attacking the oven after the maids "cleaned" it), I opened the oven drawer; and I shrieked. (You guys probably heard me). Yes, there it was; toasted mouse. But no matter what you have heard it does not look as appetizing as it sounds. Well, like an idiot, I think that is the end of it. The next day as I’m cleaning - low and behold a mouse scurries across the floor. This time only a small scream and a big jump; I’m being brave because I’m trying not to scare Maura. That night while scrubbing the millions coats of grease and grime off of the floor with Mike, another mouse peeked its head out at me from the cabinet. Another shriek and another giant jump. The next day we called Orkin. They came out three days later, not soon enough for me, but it worked out for our cat, Socks. It was about 2 am, and I heard this scampering across the kitchen tile floor and this crash. I heard this over and over again, so I came down stairs to see what was up. There he was, Socks, "hiding" under the table. The mouse would crawl out from under the stove, Socks would run to try and catch him, the mouse would scurry back under the stove, and Socks would then skid and smack into the stove. They say the sign of a crazy person is someone who does the same behavior over and over again expecting different results. Well, I guess our cat is about as crazy as they get because he was at it for hours. It was like watching a Tom and Jerry cartoon. Well, the Orkin man came. I described my problem. He told me that there is no way a mouse is that big. He said that I must be over exaggerating or that we had rats. But I stood my ground and said that I knew that it sounded impossible, but that it was a very large, fat mouse. "This is his favorite draAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!" squealed the mouse. "Oh my God!" yelled the Orkin man. "That is one giant mouse!" "I’m sorry I screamed." "Hey, lady, if that had been me, I would have screamed too." "Cool Mom! Do that again!" "Okay kids, anything for you." (Ya , right). So what had happened is this. As I was opening the drawer, I apparently surprised the mouse which scared him and made him jump straight up in the air which turned out to be about ½ inch from my nose. He then hit the floor and ran under the refrigerator. Needless to say it took me a long time to open that drawer without flinching.
It was a cool summer night; Mike was working late, and the children were all nestled in their beds while dreams of winning the lottery danced in their heads. Macula our other cat began this weird meowing. So I called him to me. He came and dropped a live baby mouse at my feet. "Good Lord, Cat! What are you doing?!" The mouse sees his chance. He makes a run for it. But Macula, not about to lose his honor, fetches him back. But the mouse is determined to get away. He runs away again. By this time the dog has decided to get in on the act. She snatches up the mouse in her mouth. But because Cinder has no front teeth, the mouse wriggles out of her mouth and continues to make a break for it. The cat in the meantime is getting a little upset with the dog for trying to steal his mouse. So he is now playing "cat and mouse" with this poor baby mouse. He decides to run like a "mad man" for the front door, and I’m rooting for the mouse. "Go, mouse, go! You can do it!" But the mouse decides he’s not falling for that old trick, and stops running for the open front door. He decides to double back. And I’m yelling "You stupid mouse! What the H are you thinking?!" Well, by this time I have no choice. I run to the kitchen, get a glue board, and throw it at the mouse. It’s a direct hit - well, sort of. It hit the mouse in the head. So now this poor little mouse is snow plowing across the floor. The cat is now trying to figure out what I did to his mouse. The dog is trying to figure out how to pick it up without ending up stuck to the glue board. And I’m quietly screaming, "Oh God! Oh God!" So I gather up all of my courage and throw the mouse out onto the front porch. Oh no! He’s about to wriggle free! So I get a plastic bag, throw the mouse and glue board into the bag, and tie the bag shut. I shut the door and try to calm myself down. Just then Mike drives up. "Oh look; Colleen’s waiting for me. How sweet." (Ya, right). Just as he gets to the front step, I dead bolt the door. "What?" "Your not coming in until you take care of that." "What?" "That!" "Oh."
Well, between the backyard, the kitchen, one in the bathroom, the garage, and our bedroom (where the babies like to come out and get caught) we are up to 17 mice. The red tailed hawks love our back yard and the vacant lot behind us.
SMALL DISASTERS, SCARES, AND OTHER ANNOYING THINGS
Earthquakes - the day we signed the check for the earthquake insurance, the night we moved in, one week after we moved in, and the night we brought the baby home from the hospital, and one a week ago when I had the flu. (At first I thought that maybe my fever went to high and I was hallucinating). Still no damage to the house, so keep knocking on that wood.
I broke the prong on my grandmother’s ring and lost one of the large diamonds. I panicked. I had just taken a shower and taken the dog for a 2 mile walk! Where to look! After walking outside for a bit, I looked around the house. I could not find it. Then I went into the bathroom, looked down at the bathmat and something was reflecting light. Yep, the diamond. Unbelievable! Thank you, God! It meant a lot to find it again. Then I broke a prong off of my engagement ring, but I did not lose the diamond. So in spite of the bad luck, it all worked out well.
Our new refrigerator came. It looked beautiful. No more living out of a cooler. Ha! That’s what you think. They delivered a refrigerator without any freon. So now Sears paying a taxi driver to bring dry ice to our house until they can get us a new refrigerator. Sears only deliver to Hollister on Tuesdays and Thursdays. But they gave us a better refrigerator and a service contract, so it all worked out too.
We got rid of the ants - for now anyway.
Sebastian broke his arm about one week after we moved in. They left a swing set. That’s good. No, that’s bad. He fell off of the monkey bars and broke his arm. Luckily it was only a hairline fracture. So it healed up in three weeks.
We bought a beautiful hide-a-bed. But they would not deliver to Hollister. So our friends had it delivered to their house, and then loaded it up in his truck and drove it down to us on his way to play golf with some of his friends. Well, we measured the room. The room was plenty big enough, but we forgot to measure the door to the bedroom. Ya, I know - amateurs. So after several measurements of front doors and back doors and garage doors and a lot of huhs, they put it through the bedroom window. I was so embarrassed. But it was amusing to listen to 6 men who all knew how to fix the problem come up with 6 different solutions. The whole thing was worth a good laugh; and whenever we meet and sofas come up, we all start laughing.
My brother, Tim, and his wife, Gwen, came to visit about 10 days after we moved in - which is why they are in this section. (Just kidding,. Really! I’m just kidding). We had a great visit and a fun time. We just sat around mostly, drank some beer, and threw a few mice on the Bar-B. The visit was too short, but I guess that’s just how things go.
OUT IN THE TULIES
We were having night after night and day after day of tulie(sp?) fog. (For those of you who don’t know, it is a really dense fog with very low visibility). I was making lunches for the kids, I had skipped exercising that morning because I was finding it nearly impossible with my joints getting SO lose. I picked up the large silver bowl to let Kelsey pick out a piece of Halloween candy to put in her lunch when my water broke. "Go tell your dad, he’s upstairs, that my water just broke; but not to panic." Well, I might as well have said, "Man your battle stations." The kids were dress in about 30 seconds. "Go next door. Barb will drive you to school." "No way! We’re going with you." "Look I don’t have time to argue with you. Get in the car." "Yea! We get to go!" Mike was thankful this happened while he was at home because his commute is now about 50 minutes, but he was still panicking because the hospital was about 20minutes away. (Maura was born in about 20 minutes). "Now don’t drive crazy. Just take your time. The fog is really thick, and I’m not having any contractions." "I’ll be careful." "I mean it!" "Okay, okay." Well, it’s a good thing that I wasn’t having any contractions because between the fog and the farm equipment driving down the two lane highway, we didn’t stand a chance. Well, because of my past record the hospital staff was rushing around like maniacs, but nothing constructive was going on. I was having about one big contraction every hour. So the doctor decided to check me himself and found that my water had not broken all of the way. He broke it and about 10 contractions, 30 minutes, and one big push later there was Bernadette Augusta. No red hair, but a cutie all the same. It was November 9th at 12.47pm. She was 8 lb ½ oz and 18.5 inches long. She has sandy colored curly hair, blue eyes, and a great smile. She was born completely healthy - what more could we ask for. She has a great personality and pretty easy going. Thank you, Lord! And me? Well, in one week I was back in my regular clothes and weighed 2 lbs lighter than when I started. WOW! IT’S A MIRACLE! So you see there is a God. I’m glad that my pregnancy was not for naught. As long as it has restored your faith, that is reward enough for me. My work here is done.
Oh the kids? Well, they were down the hall watching T.V. They came in after all of the fireworks were over. They were all thrilled. It was a great moment that I hope I never forget.
So I am sorry that this is coming to you SO late. But I have forgotten how tiring it is to have a new born. Totally enjoyable, but tiring. Maura is now 4 years old, and I have forgotten a lot. But I don’t begrudge it, I just do like I normally do - fly by the seat of my pants and see what the day brings. I also ended up getting the flu for about a week. Every time I thought I was over it, it came back in the night - splitting headache, fever, chills, and body aches.
Well, it’s been an up and down year, or should I say a down and up year as everything has worked out for the good. I hope all is well with you and that your year is dawning as brightly as ours is. Remember to keep laughing because we are. We are all healthy, and God is watching over us and is hopefully having a good laugh too. What more could we ask for? We miss you all very much; and now when you come to visit, we actually have an official place to put you.
Take care and God bless.
Love,
The little Forbushes and the two big bushes
Kelsey, Sebastian, Maura, Bernadette, Mike, and Colleen
New address:
591 Bordeaux Place
Hollister, CA
95023
Colleen ForbushJanuary, 1999
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