A Good Man

Bob's paternal grandfather passed away last week. He had been extremely ill with a malignant brain tumor, so I think it's fair to say that it was a blessing that he could finally lay his mortal body to rest. I will post the link to his obituary here. I've also posted some pictures here (you'll need to know this: 73125). But I really would like to take a minute to pay tribute to the man with my blog.

What I know of Grandpa Haynes is that he was a family man. He and Grandmother have been down to see us for a variety of occasions--our wedding, Bob's graduation, the births of babies, the kids' birthday parties, even our housewarming party. Not a Christmas has gone by when they haven't sent something for our kids--all of them (which is quite an effort on their part, I must admit). Grandpa has sent all of us letters, emails, and pictures. And in all of those pictures, he has the biggest grin on his face. He would just love on our kids and listen to 'em talk. For all of that, I appreciate him so very much.

A story told at his funeral is worth repeating and recording. Bob and I have both heard it previously, but have never written it down or shared it. Bob and Dorothy were married on April 1. As they were walking up the steps to the courthouse, he turned to her and said, "April Fool's!" and turned around and walked back down. Well, he came back and they got married ... but she's still shaking her head about it, even at the funeral.

We also walked away from the services with one other nugget of information about Grandpa. We knew that he was a veteran of the U.S. Navy, and that he served in the Pacific theater during WWII. For many years, Bob has been asking his grandpa to tell him about that, what ship he served on, where he went, etc. And all these years, Grandpa would tell him, "It's no big deal. We never saw very much action."

He's a true member of Tom Brokaw's Greatest Generation. He was serving on the USS Missouri in 1945 when Japan surrendered, ending the war. But he never saw much action ... nope, just history in the making. Details, details.

For those of you who might be wondering, my boys were suitably impressed with this story. Of course, after they whooped and hollered ... I think they only grasped the words "war" and "surrender" ... they asked me "What war?" and "Who was fighting again?" and "Did they have guns?"

I love boys.

And thanks to Grandpa for giving his service to our country, and for sharing his love with all of us.

Hmmmmm....

I think we bought the wrong costume for Sariah.

Pat Me on the Back

I'm sorry to burden you all with my weight loss saga. Ok, I'm not really sorry. This is my blog, after all. So, if you're not interested, feel free to tune out now.

Meanwhile, I hit my all time high weight the week before my surgery. It was very depressing. Especially since the removal of 2 cysts big enough to be taken out and a few organs here and there really didn't do anything for my weight. That was disappointing. And there were only a few pounds separating me and Bob. That was exasperating.

Hey, you look for help wherever you can get it, if it looks like it isn't going to be any work, right?

Well, in the last month, I've brought my weight down 14 pounds, and my BMI down 2 points. Woohoo! Party on.

NO, there is absolutely NO need for you to point out that in those 4-5 weeks, I spent 2 weeks extremely ill with some freaky-weird gastrointestinal something, on an entirely liquid diet that didn't prevent me from becoming dehydrated. Just because I lost 10 pounds in those 2 weeks doesn't actually signify anything. There is no need to rain on my parade.

I mean, I gained 4 pounds back when I started eating again.

Like I said, you look for help wherever you can get it (particularly when you're feeling desperate).

Of course, be careful what you wish for. It seems to me that I once heard about a friend now living in South America who went from heavy to thin rather rapidly because of parasites in the water there that she wasn't accustomed to. It sounded appealing, losing weight quickly and without any effort (meaning self-control), right?

You know what? I don't think it could have been pleasant, and from now I'll stick to doing it the "old-fashioned" way: diet, exercise and self-control. (Not that I actually tried to do it the quickie way. Just thought to take advantage of an opportunity.) And I'm gonna be happy doing it.

I'll just pat myself on the back now, and let you get back to the more important details of your day.

Boo!

Well, I survived the pumpkin carving. I think I'll only need one dose of Benadryl to get me through. Pumpkin pie I can eat. Pumpkin seeds I can eat. Pumpkin scented candles I can burn. But pumpkin guts make my eyes itch, my nose run, and hives break out everywhere. It's totally nuts.

Tracy's guide to the picture:

• The really ferocious pumpkin to the right is Hannah's. Maybe the bed-head incident was still on her mind when she planned her blueprints.
• Cyclops Pumpkin up front is Elisabeth's, and yes, she knew who Cyclops was before she started carving.
• Teeny Tiny Pumpkin on top is, of course, Sariah's. See, we gave it one tooth because it's still a baby. Sariah has an entire mouthful of quite useful teeth, but that's entirely beside the point. Art doesn't necessarily have to parallel life.
• The happy-looking pumpkin with shark teeth to the left is Rex's design. He was very specific with me. And he only tried to carve his own pumpkin (without my permission) once.
• Center-stage is Caleb's pumpkin. I have no idea what the whisker-type things represent. Neither does he. I asked.
• And the deranged, completely frightened pumpkin is mine. It's how I felt by the time we were done. My mouth might have been open that big when I was ... er, requesting my children go to bed. Ok, ok, it really just signifies my big yawn. Honest.

Crazy Hair Day

It's Reb Ribbon week at school. Kind of like "Just Say No" to us Generation Xers, but it's ... Red Ribbon Week, which means that today they wear crazy hair ... because that helps you say no to drugs?

Anyway, like all the hair? Elisabeth's hair, fully conceived by herself, was a creation unto itself. It involved 4 rubber bands, 1 barette, 1 braid, 1 swoop-over in the back, and 3 different ponytails combined in 1 or 2 ways.

I think you could have bounced a football off of Caleb's head.

As for Rex, he wanted blue hair, but I wasn't prepared for that when I was confronted with the need for crazy hair 20 minutes before they were supposed to get on the bus. In any case, there's not much else you can do with hair that's less than a quarter of an inch long, but we gelled it, moussed it, and stuck it straight up. "Mom," he said, "I look like a poky-pine!" I loved it.

Then we all decided (much to her distress) that Hannah could have done Crazy Hair Day on the merits of her bed-head alone. Yeah, she didn't appreciate that very much.

Halloween Bash '08

Some friends from church throw a huge Halloween Bash, including a most awesome trunk-or-treat every year, and Saturday was the big day. We took some friends with us, and now you get the fab Halloween Preview.

The Ninja

The Midnight Angel

The Goth Witch

The Scary Skeleton Guy

If you're noticing a dark theme among my children's costumes this year...you might be right. Not sure what got into them. Please also notice Rex's black fingernails. Hannah asked for them with her costume. Then Rex thought they were a fabulous idea, and I was ok with that. The rest of my kids...not so much. But they were black, for heaven's sake. It wasn't like he wanted neon pink nails. And even so, it's Halloween! Ok. Sorry about that. Done raving now. And now may I present the star of the evening: The Super Amazing Giraffe!!

Why is everybody looking at me?

Hey, wait a minute!!!

Saying cheese now.

Ok, I'm totally done with this photo op.

I want to dance, baby!

Amazingly, my friend and I had no idea we had the same costume (from a few years ago) for our youngest babies to wear. They were a definite hit, as was Sariah's moving and grooving for 2 full hours.

Not enough Halloween pics for you? Have no fear, only 4 more days until Candy Blastoff. More pics coming soon to a blog you know.

"Curious George Visits the Firehouse"

On Thursday, I had the privilege of attending Hannah's Speech & Drama presentation for the quarter. It's not the first time I've been up to the middle school this year, but it was a little bit heartwrenching for me. We've known a few of Hannah's classmates since they were this size:

And we've known a great deal of them since kindergarten, when they were this size:

And now, they are disturbingly tall (the girls, anyway), disturbingly attired (and I don't just refer to the boys' droopy pants, but also the girls' more ... mature ... trends in clothing), and disturbingly capable, like this:

I told Hannah--and sincerely meant it--that their play was exceptionally well done. They wrote, practiced, and acted it themselves. It was very funny, and all said their lines well and projected their voices. Hannah, as you might be able to see, was The Grey Puppy, and had some very profound lines, including, "Yip, yip, yip!" I know, a starlet in the making!

Where was Sariah during all of this? you might ask. Well, she just made herself at home with one of Hannah's friends since kindergarten. He seriously kept her entertained throughout Hannah's presentation so I could take pictures.
He's a good kid, and always has been. They all are. Just remind me that I think that from time to time.

Which One Doesn't Belong?

I thought she was happy. Until I reviewed the pictures.

Rexisms, Overheard

Rexisms are what I call Rex's particular and peculiar observations on life, as well as his entertaining comments.

Mom: Rex go to your bed. You were hurting Caleb, and you didn't stop when he told you so.
Rex: I didn't hear him, Mom!!
Mom: Go!
Rex: But I didn't hear him!!!
Mom: Bull!
Rex: [sobbing] Mom, I'm not a bull!


Rex: I can tell you why a trapezoid is called a trapezoid.
Mom: Ok, shoot.
Rex: Well, it's all about a jail, and it's called a Zoid Trap, and it kills people.

Now you know. Enjoy!

Addendum: In Rex's Defense

I did wander up to the school this morning to peruse the lost and found. Ok, so only 1 of his sweatshirts was there, and it did look like it had just been put there recently. 1 down, 3 (or is it 4?) more to go. Where, oh where shall we look next? I know you have ideas. The doghouse? (No lie on that one. We've found things before. And Junebug didn't put them there.) Under the bed? Under the backseat of the van?

The Rant

I just need a few minutes here to vent. And all my ventees are unavailable, so now I'll inflict it on the public at large.

So, all of these years that my kids have been in school, we've never lost a coat, jacket, or sweatshirt. Sure, they might have been temporarily located in the lost and found, but ultimately, the involved child and I had words, and the article of clothing was retrieved and returned home.

But now, now Rex is in school. What does that mean? you might ask. Well, first, Rex is completely oblivious to temperature changes until they are extreme. This is not his fault; I truly believe that it has to do with his sensory integration issues...his nerve system is just wired somewhat differently than the rest of ours, and he either doesn't register things the way the rest of us would, or he over-registers them (I don't know which is worse). And second, Rex has a sometimes-amusing, sometimes-exasperating superfaith in his own knowledge that he clearly knows more than his mom or dad.

How this translates is thus: basically, when Mom or his teacher at school tells him that the weather is chilly enough for a sweatshirt, he first argues that he doesn't need one; second agrees to take it just to end the conversation (a normal kid tactic, I'd say); but it's the 3rd step in this process that's the kicker...third, he loses the offending article of clothing.

So, this morning when the wind chill is down in the 30s for the first time this fall, he has no sweatshirts or jackets to take to school for his field trip to a local "farm." They're going to be out-of-doors all day. Now, as a parenting-with-love-and-logic kind of parent, I'd say he could just go on the field trip without, and suffer the consequences, darn it, if he completely "forgets" every day to go to the lost and found and locate his clothing (which, btw, even if he went, he wouldn't find anything even if it were staring him in the face). However, I do have my pride as a mother...especially when it comes to being the mother of 5, which means that lots of times people are judging you and the "fact" that you allegedly don't take as good of care as the last kiddos as you did the first, which means that you don't love them as well (please don't try to deny this; perhaps I'm a very judgmental person; but really, how do you think I know people are thinking things like this?). I do have my pride as a mother, you know. Oh, I said that already.

So, I sent Rex off to school this morning with one of Caleb's sweatshirts, and the dire threat that if he lost this sweatshirt, he would have to pay Caleb $20 for it. Poor kid, he had a complete breakdown, because currently he only has $1. So, then I told him that he would have to work for Caleb by being his slave until the sweatshirt was paid for, theoretically of course.

Gee, I must wonder at this point, how this is going to come back to me when I next talk to his teacher.

Ok, done venting now. Thanks! :)

St. Louis

At long last, there has been a coming-together of miraculous events. First, the correct software is now acceptably installed on my rebuilt computer. Alas, it was never the software's problem. It was the computer. Second, all of my children are asleep. After two hours of Halloween costume shopping with the oldest, and after four hours of 4th-grade-travel-brochure-project-making with Elisabeth. And third, I am finally coherent enough (relatively speaking, anyway) to put together the travelogue of my husband and eldest son's recent journeyings.

Now, on to the boys' trip. Bob and Caleb went two weekends ago to see the church history sites around Nauvoo, as well as the Arch and the Zoo. They flew into St. Louis, Missouri, stayed in a hotel in Iowa, and Nauvoo's in Illinois. And not a single spoon did they bring me back, and I might add, I don't have a spoon from Iowa or Missouri.

When they returned, they brought back a Nauvoo brick, some rope which they had made, a tiny horsehoe, some acorns, and about three hundred pictures. For four days! Not that I could really do the good-mother/wife thing and admire all of their trophies, since I was still somewhat sick...and really grumpy. But that's beside the point.

Tonight, I sat down and really looked at their pics with my new software. Truly, a male point of view is reflected therein, as you will see.

We've got predators.

We've got weapons.

And we've got vehicles.










And let us not forget this one last means of transportation. Bob swears it was truly life threatening. The ox (allegedly) was determined to have at him with his horn, which is why Bob is manfully restraining him. And see my brave boy there on the right--he's not even afraid of such stubborn, malicious animals! Why, my son's even so relaxed, he's got a hand in his pocket!

Ok, to be fair to my menfolk: they did bring me home some pictures of flowers (why don't things bloom like this here in Oklahoma? we're not that far from Illinois)....
And they brought me some pictures of dishes...
Apparently, these are Lucy Mack Smith's china dishes, that survived all the moving around and traveling hither and yon in the days of jolting wagons and no styrofoam peanuts. So, I ask of you, how is it that my Corelle-wear can't make it from one side of my kitchen to the other intact?

Now here's what I'm talkin' about--my kind of dishes!

Ok, you're right. I have indeed saved all of my favorite pictures, as well as my kinder captions, for tomorrow. Until then....

A Giggly Gentleman

Rex had Elisabeth rolling on the floor laughing tonight. When we got home from church, I instructed the children to bring everything in from the car. This meant that Rex was carrying his scriptures, his papers, his socks, and his shoes ... which obviously were not on his feet ... which just made me remember his comments in the car:

Rex: Mom?
Mom: Yes?
Rex: My feet are really smelly. [I should here note that at this point in time, his feet were actually in his shoes, minus the socks.] My feet are really smelly, Mom. So when we get home, can I wash them off with the hose in the front yard, you know, when we get home? I don't want them to be smelly anymore. [I should here further note that by this time, he was talking to me with his bare toes firmly attached to the tip of his nose ... or so it appeared in the van's rearview mirror, anyway.]

But I digress. Rex was hauling all of his belongings up to the front door which then apparently snapped shut right behind Elisabeth and in the face of Rex's poor overburdened arms full of stuff.

Rex then felt compelled to yell at his sister, "Elisabeth!!! You're not being a gentleman! You're supposed to hold the door open!!!!"

I haven't heard Elisabeth giggle that much in a very long while. She always has been a connoisseur of a good logical twist of language.

Bob's an Emmett

See what happens when I'm supposed to be takin' it easy?

Take the Quiz and Share Your Results!

Quizzier

Now here's a quiz I came across that I know my most faithful readers will appreciate. Cool, eh? Who are you?

Take the Quiz and Share Your Results!

And for you guys, because I just know you're dying to do your own quiz, click here. But because I like quizzes so much, I did this one, too. I'm seeing a pattern, though....

Take the Quiz and Share Your Results!

To Staci

I could have just answered with a comment, but that wouldn't be any fun. I'd rather broadcast all my woes to everyone. ; )

Have no fears about staring at my blog all you want. Anybody here in Norman just comes on as Norman Oklahoma. I just thought it was me staring at my blog all the time. I do that, you know, because having a B.A. in English, I have to spend a good deal of my time agonizing over how I could have written my blog better for my 5 faithful readers. So see? You can stalk me anonymously all you want.

As to being sick ... I guess I just have the stomach flu. Gastroenteritis, the 10-14 day kind, according to my P.A. OR, according to the 2nd ER doc, it's that parasite they found at the SplashPad in September. Whatever it is, it came on the heels of my laparoscopy, so my immune system was already working overtime and got overwhelmed. It's bad stuff in any case. Even taking anti-nausea meds (which knock me out even better than Benadryl, by the way), I can't get enough water in me to stay out of the ER. Ugh.

But I have had a true saint to take care of me. My mom showed up last Monday morning and stayed until yesterday morning. What a lifesaver. She took care of me, and all five of my kids, and did all my laundry, and cleaned my whole house ... if it were me, I would be in bed for a week after all that.

Anyhow, hopefully I'm on the mend. Only 2 more days until they start running more tests, so I'd better recover soon ... no more needle pricks. They don't always bother me, but I'm getting pretty tired of them. I'd be a mess if I was really sick with something that they had to prick you all the time.

And on that happy note, I'll sign off. Cheers!

Quizzy

So, along with Melessa and Tiffany, I love these little quiz things. Always have. I think it's the whole reason I subscribed to Seventeen when I was a teenager.

Your result for Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz...

You Are an Ingrid!

You are an Ingrid -- "I am unique"

Ingrids have sensitive feelings and are warm and perceptive.

How to Get Along with Me

• * Give me plenty of compliments. They mean a lot to me.


• * Be a supportive friend or partner. Help me to learn to love and value myself.


• * Respect me for my special gifts of intuition and vision.


• * Though I don't always want to be cheered up when I'm feeling melancholy, I sometimes like to have someone lighten me up a little.


• * Don't tell me I'm too sensitive or that I'm overreacting!

What I Like About Being an Ingrid

• * my ability to find meaning in life and to experience feeling at a deep level


• * my ability to establish warm connections with people


• * admiring what is noble, truthful, and beautiful in life


• * my creativity, intuition, and sense of humor


• * being unique and being seen as unique by others


• * having aesthetic sensibilities


• * being able to easily pick up the feelings of people around me

What's Hard About Being an Ingrid

• * experiencing dark moods of emptiness and despair


• * feelings of self-hatred and shame; believing I don't deserve to be loved


• * feeling guilty when I disappoint people


• * feeling hurt or attacked when someone misundertands me


• * expecting too much from myself and life


• * fearing being abandoned


• * obsessing over resentments


• * longing for what I don't have

Ingrids as Children Often

• * have active imaginations: play creatively alone or organize playmates in original games


• * are very sensitive


• * feel that they don't fit in


• * believe they are missing something that other people have


• * attach themselves to idealized teachers, heroes, artists, etc.


• * become antiauthoritarian or rebellious when criticized or not understood


• * feel lonely or abandoned (perhaps as a result of a death or their parents' divorce)

Ingrids as Parents

• * help their children become who they really are


• * support their children's creativity and originality


• * are good at helping their children get in touch with their feelings


• * are sometimes overly critical or overly protective


• * are usually very good with children if not too self-absorbed

Take Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz at HelloQuizzy

Survival, Part 2

One urgent care center visit and 2 ER visits later (all for dehydration), I'm still here. Barely.

In recent years, our hospital has started asking a new set of questions when they admit you. It's the Depression Questions, which most of you will know, I find amusing to begin with, since I take depression medication. I really do think that it's great that they ask these questions. I'm all for people getting their depression treated and under control, if they have it. Living with depression is its own nightmare, and I am a firm believer in whatever appropriate treatment works for each individual.

You will also remember that I have to handle my depression with a little bit of humor. So my disclaimer now is that I am not denigrating the hospital's Depression Mission, just finding some humor in it. If I didn't, I would have to sit down and cry and probably never stop.

"Are you or have you ever been depressed?" That's an easy enough question for me to answer, although I suspect that 5 years ago, I would have lied through my teeth to answer it "right."

The next ones (and please forgive my paraphrasing, I was pretty out of it when they asked me), however, gave me great cause for amusement ... or it would have, anyway, had my head not been about to spin off my shoulders. "Do you feel like harming yourself in any way? Do you have any thoughts of killing yourself?" This is a proper technique for addressing suicide, by the way ... but do they really ask these questions of people coming to the emergency room? I mean, come on.

They asked me this while I was in Triage--you know, where they assess you. From my seat there, I could see a baby with a high fever who looked like she wanted to die. And I saw a man stagger in with a horrible grimace on his face every time he put weight on one of his ankles. And I saw a teen-age ball player cradling his hand, and blood all the way down his baseball pants.

I think while we were at the ER the first time, I told my mom, "Just shoot me now." Does that count as wanting to harm yourself, when you're so sick that you've made arrangements for all of your kids and dragged yourself and your mom to the hospital so they can put you out of your misery?

Do you feel like harming yourself? Ha!

As Mir would say, "I'm just saying', is all."

Thursday Folders

True life Thursday folder products from our house.

Art by Rex:
You have to imagine Rex saying this out loud to get how amusing it really is. "Sometimes it looked like a ... hmm ... a mountain!! But it wasn't (duh) a mountain. Well, duh."

Art by Caleb:
Now before you go judging, please remember that we visited Devil's Den State Park in Arkansas this summer. I do have to admit, however, that the real Devil's Den didn't look quite like that.

I just liked this one. It's always good to have superheroes.

And Caleb's list of favorite songs was pretty dang good. And a little surprising. And edited grammatically a bit.

1. Burnin' Up by the Jonas Brothers
2. HSM
3. Rock the Road by "rascklflats" (not bad for phonetic spelling)
4. Life is the Highway by "rascklfats" (I bet the band'll like that)
5. Camp Rock
   
6. Zack and Cody
7. Narnia
8. 17 Choose
9. I'm Not Buying that Line Anymore (this is my favorite on his list, because it's a Micheal McLean song that I listen to in the car, and it proves that your kids really are listening sometimes)
10. I Like that Line (he says this isn't a song; that he just got tired of coming up with songs)