He was red faced and obviously very irritated. He kept his head down as he walked to the truck after school. Close on his heels was one of the teachers. She was irritated and walking very determined toward us. My heart sank. “Oh no!” I thought, “What happened?”. I rolled the window down and the teacher explained that he said a bad word at school that day. My mind raced, “A BAD word??? My kid?” This was not something any of my children have ever had a problem with before, but there is a first time for everything. I was sitting there wishing that the first time hadn't happened at school.

I am thinking the worst possible and considering her demeanor all these awful words are running through my head. I am wondering what he said to get her so riled up. “Tell your Mother what you said” she demanded. He admitted that he said the word, “suck”. Thinking I misunderstood, I immediately clarified by spelling , S-U-C-K. They both shook their heads yes as I looked around for confirmation. “Is that ALL?” I thought. I was so relieved it was not the “F” word that I wanted to smile, but of course I had to keep a straight face as I asked the teacher more particulars about the situation.

She was obviously very upset that such a horrific word had been used. I was more upset that he had told the other child, “You suck.” To me that was the wrong that had been done - belittling the other child, not the word that had been used. I told the teacher that I would handle the situation and she replied that she, “knew I would”.

As we pulled out of the parking lot, I asked my son where he heard that word.

“At school” he replied.

“Did you know it was a bad word?”

“Well...I didn't think it was a bad, bad word.” he said.

I was thinking the same thing myself. I knew it was a slang word, but in this context I would not consider it a cuss word or even inappropriate (expect that he used it to put down another child). I called my husband to have him weigh in on the situation and he agreed that it was not a cuss word, but indeed inappropriate for school use, if the teacher said so. I asked my son not to use the word again and then dealt with what I saw as the much more critical issue of his behavior toward the other student.

When someone is going through a rough situation in life, I have been known to say, “Wow, that really sucks.” Granted there probably are better words to use and it is certainly not elegant, but is it a bad word? I guess even taking it a step farther, is it unacceptable for a Christian to use? I guess if others find it offensive than I should refrain from using it. 

This past weekend we celebrated Sissy's 11^th birthday. I was born in one of the worst ice storms to hit Nashville in the 1970's. My parents had to get a friend with a jeep to drive my Mom to the hospital and then I was born less than 30 minutes after they arrived. A bad snow storm hit Missouri when my Hubby was born and by the time my Mother in law left the hospital the National Guard had been called in for the state of emergency. Needless to say, my Hubby and I both thought our first baby might be destined to arrive in a bad winter storm. We made sure my OBGYN had a 4 wheel drive vehicle. LOL!

   December 1997

But, the weather was beautiful when I went into labor with Sissy. I was four days past my due date, but not a big deal for the first baby to arrive “late”. It was a beautiful Saturday morning and I was showing signs of going into labor (I'll spare you the details). My Hubby and I thought a nice brisk walk in the park might help to bring the baby faster and we called my parents and his sister and brother in law to join us. It was Valentine's Day and there was excitement in the air - we just knew this was “it”! We walked and the contractions came stronger and closer, but still not close enough. My parents went home and we sat around playing cards with Hubby's sister and her husband. We timed contractions and had a lot of fun.

Whoa Mama! 1 month to go. January 1998

Later that afternoon, some friends arrived and we took another walk around the neighborhood hoping to bring on a Valentine's delivery. In retrospect, I wish I had not tired my body out with all those walks, but we were young and excited. Finally, around 6 pm. We decided that the contractions were close enough to go to the hospital. We loaded up in my Hubby's 1977 Chevy ¾ ton pickup truck with several cars following us. He hit every bump he could on the short drive to the hospital making me bounce and laugh too hard on the way there.

We were a bit disappointed once we arrived because I was not as far along into the labor process as we had hoped I would be, but my doctor allowed me to stay. We got situated into a room and my mother joined us for the “party”. I was so excited. Hubby and I had attended Lamaze classes and we were hoping for a natural, relaxed, drug free delivery. The resident doctor broke my water and thats when things started heating up. I tried to walk around and ended up throwing up my dinner so after that I stayed in bed.

My Hubby was a great coach and he led me properly through all the breathing exercises. At some point in the night my blood sugar dropped and I spaced out and could no longer focus. I was squeezing my Hubby's hand through a painful contraction and actually lifted it to my mouth and tried to bite it! He promptly left the room and asked the nurse for an IV feeding drip to raise my blood sugar level so I could focus again. I refused epidural, but accepted the feeding IV. As the night wore on my Hubby and Mom took turns helping me breath through contractions.

Midnight came and went and we had to let go of our hopes of a Valentine's girl. We were all exhausted and Mom and Hubby took turns snoozing, but I did not have time to nap between contractions. The wee hours of the morning drifted away with the sunrise and everyone who had been waiting for me to deliver went home- except my in laws who tried unsuccessfully to sleep in the waiting room. My doctor came in on his morning rounds and I had only dilated to a 7 or 8. My body was so exhausted that it had slowed the contractions down and they were not coming as close anymore. Honestly, I was glad for the break, but very disappointed that I was not closer to the target number of 10.

We were all so tired. My Hubby recalls this as being the longest night of his life. Even though I had wanted a “drug free” delivery, I accepted a Pitocin drip to help bring the contractions closer and stronger. I still refused the epidural. No sooner than they started the drip, I felt the urge to start pushing. They had told us in Lamaze class that if your body was not numbed by the epidural that it would naturally know when to start pushing. My Mom and Hubby thought there was no way that I could be ready yet, the doctor had just checked me.

Hubby went quickly to get the nurse and the doctor was still close by. Sure enough I was fully dilated and it was time! Pushing was no doubt the hardest and most painful thing I had ever done. I was so tired from being in labor all day and all night, but thank goodness for a merciful God. I pushed maybe 15 minutes with a total of 6 pushes. The delay came between contractions. My body was so tried that it took a long time for the next pushing contraction to hit. I screamed and said, “I can't!”, but my Hubby was right there holding my hand, assuring me that I could. At 8:22 am on February 15^th I delivered a beautiful, alert, healthy 8lbs. 3 oz. baby girl.

I felt great immediately after delivery and asked for food. LOL! My Hubby and I felt like a team. There was nothing we could not accomplish together. We were on top of the world at that moment. It was the sweetest moment in my life watching him hold her and talk to her in the sweetest of voices I had ever heard. I had known he would be a good Daddy and already he slipped comfortably into the role.

When they were cleaning her up she cried and cried, he walked over to her holding his finger down for her to grab. She held tight and looked up at him with her big eyes. She stopped crying as he sweetly talked to her. He was never awkward with her. I almost think being a Daddy came more naturally to him than mothering would to me.

By: Theresa Richardson

He blew me off today

It was over the phone

I opened the door

And instead of walking through it

Or even leaning

Against the jam

The silence just hung

I thought for a moment

He might at least step

Over the threshold

But he shut it

Quickly

Precisely

Hard

But not a slam

It was good talking to you

He said

But he didn’t mean it