Busy, Really Busy Days

Babies

Before Daddy died, he and Mother gave each of us children a sizable check as a gift. With that money Bob and I were able to purchase a large piece of land, almost an acre. I designed the house and Bob oversaw the building. 

733 Texas Avenue, Port Neches, Texas
Many years later

I was pregnant with our second child, Damon when we moved into the house that I thought would be our forever home. Since we wanted Bob to be present for Damon’s delivery, I couldn’t have an anesthesiologist in the room-hospital rule. I had established the Jefferson County Childbirth Education Association. We hired R.N.’s and trained about 500 couples using the Lamaze Method. In spite of that I couldn’t get the hospitals to comply with having husbands in the delivery room.

Damon was a big boy. He was born February 13, 1976 in
St. Mary Hospital in Port Arthur and weighed 9lb. 2 oz.

We were happy to now have a girl and a boy.

When Damon was barely a year old, I learned I was pregnant again. Nothing had prepared me for three babies in 37 months, so virtually 3 in 3 years. Whewwww. Lots and lots of diapers.

Lance was born October 11, 1977 at Mid-Jefferson County Hospital.

The three children were quite a trio. One of my most outrageous memories is the “Snow Tide” escapade. 

When Lance was about two, I made the mistake of putting my feet up for a nanosecond when Treva, the quintessential big sister, came to me.

“Mommy, I think you better come see what the boys have done.”  

I’m thinking, “What could a two- and four-year-old do in a few seconds?”

At the far end of the bedroom hallway in our home was a custom laundry room. On a bright day, the sunlight streamed in through the windows above the washer, dryer, and sink. There was a built-in sewing machine and large laundry bins. This room was exceptionally cheery and in frequent use. I bought Tide detergent in the largest boxes available—they were about the size of small microwaves.

On this particular day as Treva led me down the hall, I got a chill. A frost was drifting in from the far end of the hallway. I shivered and then saw the powdery cloud billowing through the laundry room door. There was a snow storm, or better said, a blizzard in the house!

“It’s snowing!” I heard a tiny snow bunny exclaim, followed by a squeal of delight. Then more laughter and more squeals.

I surveyed the glistening vision of white that covered every surface, even the eye of the needle in my sewing machine. Finger-painting swirls made with soapy fingers frosted the windows. Tiny hands with large imaginations had flung every grain of detergent that drifted  like a snowflake to the surface below. It might have been the calm after the storm, had it not been for the geyser that was spewing from the sink faucet. Damon had decided he would repair a leak and had removed the faucet head. As the water sprayed over the new-fallen snow, a sludge of suds was swiftly forming. 

There was no point in screaming. It was a childhood experience born out of curiosity and imagination—both traits I tried to encourage.

After turning off the water source, I grabbed Lance firmly and sat him on his beloved bum. He slid across the floor as the surface oozed underneath him.

“Stay there,” I said knowing nothing could stay in place on this slime.

Turning to Damon I ordered “Bring me a broom.” I was optimistic to think a broom would work on suds.

In his pure childish innocence he bargained, “If I do will I get a treat?” He thought he would take advantage of the reward-for-obedience program I had implemented. His request almost pushed me over the edge. But in that moment, I passed the ultimate mothering test: I did not clobber my son. I simply tackled the task at hand. 

The broom failed, and when I tried the vacuum, but soon heard a whirling and whining. Looking down into the metal tube, I saw a gooey coating of soapy emulsion stuck to the inside of my vacuum cleaner. Cleaning up soap is a messy job. When we sold the house a few years later, it seemed to me that the buyers gave a little shiver and hugged themselves when they entered the snow room. They looked puzzled, but I knew the reason. With their imaginations and a big box of detergent, my little snow bunnies had forever turned the place into a magical winter wonderland. The snowstorm in the laundry room remains a fond family memory. 

---

Next episode in two weeks

---

I raised three children as a single mother before I remarried. In 2007 I founded SMORE for Women, a nonprofit whose goal is Single Moms, Overjoyed, Rejuvenated, and Empowered. I’m also a Certified Professional Coach and my stories have been published in several Christian books and magazines. My book, Living Learning Loving is available on Amazon.  My Website.