Friday, November 30, 2012

Decisions, Decisions


I have a decision to make:  To blog, or not to blog.  Blogger informed me that I've run out of storage space for pictures.  In order to post photos I can purchase a larger cache.  Not happening.  It isn't as if my meager blogging is for the purpose of earning wages or anything.  If that was the case, I'd have no problem spending the money.  Sure there are ways around this, but it's hard enough to finish posts with simple photo upload.  If I have to use an additional service to post pics, it just won't happen.  Ugh!

I deleted a few pics so I'd have space to post Gluten Free Pretzels photos to my recipe blog.

 I would have posted Thanksgiving pictures instead, but I DIDN'T TAKE ANYWAY!  What's a story without pictures?  Funny thing, I found some on my camera, that I didn't take but someone did.
Elisabeth and Hilary made these pumpkins and hung them from the ceiling.  Ethan, Hilary and Sarabeth had the whole week of Thanksgiving off. I was complaining how much I wished for that when they were little.  I always wanted to do Thanksgiving crafts and it was so hard to do Thanksgiving morning amidst the cooking and baking.  The craft conversation caused them to want to create something.

In typical boy fashion, Ethan was more interested in cars and such.  Wanting someone to play with, he tried hard to get Superman to drive his go-cart, while he rode his bike.
Thankfully, Grandpa and Camden were willing to play too.

Here are the random pics that were on my camera:



Truthfully,
Joanne
"Where there is no counsel, the people fall; But in the multitude of counselors there is safety." Proverbs 11:14

Friday, November 16, 2012

The Good And Bad

Today is a GOOD day.  My oral surgeon predicted I'd hate him for at least 48 hours, but I don't.  Here is a rundown of the good and bad of the past 10 days.  (Warning:  Some of this might be TMI, so feel free to stop here if that idea bothers you.)

Tuesday last week:  Had a sonohysterogram
Bad:  It was Painful
Good:  My uterus looked normal
Normal is good.

Wednesday Evening:  I had my hair professionally cut & colored
Bad:  I nodded off in the chair, twice.
What is wrong with me?  Realized afterwards, that I was running a fever.
Good:  I changed the color and cut.  Michael loved it!  I love to change things up.

Tuesday of this week:I finally went to the doctor for the fever.
Bad:  She thinks I have a uterine infection and UTI thanks to the sonohysterogram I had
Good:  She gave me antibiotics, which I'm hoping help what feels like a sinus infection.
Bad:  The antibiotics caused me nausea and vomiting.
Good: Even though the bottle said to take an hour before or two hours after eating, the nurse said to go ahead and take with food.  This worked.

Thursday:  Had a bone dental bone graft performed
Bad:  I wasn't allowed to wear eye makeup or nail polish for the procedure.  I don't go anywhere without makeup.
Good:  I didn't have to wash my face before I went to bed last night.  I wasn't allowed to brush my teeth either.
Bad:  I don't remember anything.  I don't remember leaving the oral surgeons wearing a sock-like ice pack around my head. 
Good:  I don't remember anything.  It's a good thing I don't remember walking out in public with a sock-like ice pack wrapped around my head.  (I can't believe Michael didn't snap a picture.  Can you just imagine, me without makeup, wearing an sock ice pack, walking to the car???)

I truly don't remember a thing about the procedure.
Bad:  I wasn't a good patient.  I didn't keep gauze in my mouth.  I didn't keep wearing the ice sock. I wasn't supposed to rinse my mouth, but was told that was the first thing I did upon arriving home.
Good: I woke up at 3:00p.m. in Michael's recliner, to find my mother-in-law wrapping me in her soft blanket.

I had to eat, as I didn't want to get sick like I did the previous day when I took meds.
Bad:  I had to eat soft food.
Good:  I didn't have to cook.  Are M&M's soft food?  I had to eat them.  Elisabeth bought them for me.

I probably shouldn't try to post while under the influence of pain killers. I hope to be back to myself shortly.



Truthfully,
Joanne

"Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things"



Thursday, November 15, 2012

Thunk Thursday

I will be out of the office today, having a bone graft performed.  I am not looking forward to this procedure, especially after the first attempted bone graft failed.  What?  I didn't tell you about it?  Once I'm on the other side, and can laugh about it, maybe I can come back and tell you the horrors of inept dentistry practices.  So in my absence I leave you with a Thunk Thursday.

I am not a dietitian, nor am I a college graduate, but I do feel like I am intelligent person.  Why is a the Nutrition Facts Label on popcorn so difficult to understand?  I think the popcorn manufactures purposely do not want us to know what we are eating.  They want their product to look healthier than it truly is.

I'll start at the top.  A serving size is 2 TBS of unpopped popcorn.  Really?  Nobody, and I mean nobody, eats unpopped popcorn.  Why bother with this insignificant measure?  Second, if there are 3 servings per bag and 10 bags per box, why are there 28 servings per box?  Is something wrong with my math?

Say I eat a bag of popcorn, that isn't difficult for me to do.  How many calories have I consumed?  How much fat?  What about Sodium?

After the silly 2 TBS unpopped serving size, the label states "makes 4 cups popped."  So it's safe to assume 2 TBS unpopped equals 4 cups popped.  Servings per bag says about 3.  Can I assume that this means each bag is the eqivalent of 12 cups of popcorn?  Why, under calories does the label compare 2 TBS Unpopped to 1 cup popped?  It clearly staes "amount per serving" yet above says a serving size is 4 cups of popped corn.  So using some basic math, if I eat one bag of popcorn, I am consuming approximately 360 calories.

If I am on a Sodium Restricted diet, I also need to know how much Sodium I ate in that same bag of popcorn.  Can one of you math geniuses (Hilary) tell me how much sodium is in a bag of popped popcorn?  Either I lack the math skills required to figure this out or the label is so deceptive that I can't compute the information.  Or possibly my brain isn't functioning properly because of a fever I currently have.

How much saturated fat am I getting in a bag of popcorn?  According to the chart, 2 TBS unpopped contains 2.5 g.  Does 1 cup of popped have that same amount?  The percentages show 2.5 g as 13% of daily values for unpopped.  If I ate an entire bag unpopped, I will have consumed 7.5g.  The same chart shows 0% for saturated fat in 1 cup of popcorn.  If I eat a bag of 12 cups and multiply 12 times 0%, I get 0 grams of saturated fat???  I don't think so.

Can't wait to hear what answer you all come up with.  Take your time.  I'll be out of it all day.

Truthfully,
Joanne

"The Lord detests dishonest scales, but accurate weights find favor with him." (Proverbs 11:1)

Monday, November 12, 2012

Fifty Pieces Of The Puzzle

Dear Dr. Nocton,

In today's world, I see fewer and fewer men involved in our public school system.  With the vast family structure changes taking place, more than ever, I believe strong father figures are greatly needed.  As an elementary school principal you influenced the lives of thousands of children in a positive way.  I doubt you remember me or my children, but I certainly remember you.  I wanted to share two specific and significant events that involved you which impacted my life and the lives of 2 of my children. 

My first interaction with you was via telephone. phone.  I answered your call on a Friday afternoon, in the Fall of 1993.   My son was in third grade.  You told me there had been an incident at school during recess.  My heart began pounding.  My immediate response was, "should I come down there?"  I worried that my son was sick or injured.  Memories of my mother answering a similar call from the school principal flooded my thoughts.  I barely had time to put my shoes on before we were out the door.  She raced to pick up my brother from Kindergarten.  He'd split his head open after a fall. I watched with fear and trembling, as the doctor laid my brother onto a table, under a bright, white light.  The sterile office reeked of alcohol and disinfectants.  After several shots, the doctors fingers tugged and pulled on a piece of black thread, that stitched Greg's head back together. It's amazing the thoughts that run through your head in a moment of time when your heart is racing.

"No need to come," you assured me.  "Your son hit another boy on the playground, giving him a bloody nose.  Consequently, Christopher will miss his lunch recess for a week.  After he eats, he will come to my office and sit until the bell rings."

 I was reeling.  I was heartbroken. I never expected a call like this.  My son had only been at this school for a year.  He was small for his age.  My little boy punched someone in the nose?  This can't be possible.  He must have been bullied by bigger boys.  Was it an accident?  In my wildest dreams, I could not imagine Christopher hitting anyone, ever.  Peer pressure.  It had to be peer pressure.  My son has always been a team player, yet willing to step up to be someone's hero.  I prayed every day that he'd have the heart of David, strong enough to take on Goliath, willing to lead an army to victory, yet humble enough to dance in the streets before the Lord, without feat what others might think.  I also prayed he would not be afraid to stand alone, when it meant doing the right thing.

You didn't provide me with  details of the incident, instead you continued on as if this was an every day occurrence.

 "I must tell you, I spent a good deal of time talking with your son.  He is a fine young man.  He mentioned that his mother prays for him that if does something wrong he will get caught.  I told him God always brings everything into the light.  I asked him if he knew that the first words in the bible are, 'and God said let their be light.'  He answered me that he thought the bible started with, 'In the Beginning...' I took him for a walk down the hall to the teacher's lounge.  I showed him that I keep my bible in there because I can't keep it in my office. I told him that I read it on my lunch hour.  We opened it up and sure enough, it says 'In the beginning.'  He is a fine young man. He will do just fine.  He made a bad decision, but I can tell he has been taught well.  He is sorry for his actions, but still has to pay the price."

Thank-you Dr. Nocton, for taking a young boy under your wing and helping him to learn in a fair and just manner that there are consequences to our behavior when we break the rules.  That fine young man is now in his second year of law school where he hopes to be a fair representative of justice.

The second incident I wanted to thank-you for involves my fourth child.  Sarabeth began Kindergarten at your school.  By the third week, she was having night terrors that began her first day of school and she cried every single day I dropped her off and picked her up.   Having a summer birthday, she was on the young end and could have waited a year before beginning school.  Sarabeth has always had extreme separation anxiety, even as an infant.  I was told by most, that I didn't push her hard enough. They said the biggest mistake I could make would be to give in to her, and let her stay home another year.  If I pulled her out now, she'd never go back and I'd  be fighting a bigger battle the following year.  I sought out advice from people I trusted.  One of those people was you.

After explaining our situation, you looked puzzled.  I expected to hear the same advice I'd heard from others.  Instead you said, "In most situations, I would recommend that you keep going with whatever decision you've already made.  Your daughter has started Kindergarten, so in general I would say she should keep going.  I'm surprised by what I'm about to say, but I'm wondering if maybe you should pull her out.   See if the night terrors stop.  If they do, maybe it is best that she wait another year. "

This is exactly what we did, and it made a world of difference.  Sarabeth was and is an excellent student.  She currently attends college with a 4.0.  She even spent a semester abroad. I want to thank-you for being the fair and just elementary principal, who conducted his school with honor and integrity, yet wasn't afraid to offer grace and mercy to a little girl who wasn't ready for the rigors of being out in the world.  Thank-you for giving her dignity. I wish we had more godly men, such as yourself, in places of influence over our children.

This is another fifty post. Explanation of the series here.

Truthfully,
Joanne

 "Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to sin, it would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were drowned in the depth of the sea" (Mt. 18:6)


Saturday, November 10, 2012

An Old Friend Or Foe

Sin is tricky.  He is a master of disguise.  He parades around as a fond memory or loving friend. It isn't long before sin's true identity emerges.  He is no friend or comforter. He causes pain and sorrow. I avoid him whenever possible.  Sin is sneaky and pops in when  I'm feeling my weakest, and least prepared to meet with him.

His name appears on the caller I.D.  I reject the call.  Last week, I picked up the phone before checking to see who it was.  He started in with his spiel.  He said, "it is imperative that you sign up for what I'm selling." I politely decline, so he puts his partner Past Regrets on the line.  He asks me to join his mailing list so he can send me personal past regrets.  I shout loudly, "Get out of here you sad, sad man.  I want beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.  I don't want anymore of your grief!"  I slam the phone down.

At times when I'm tired, I don't recognize his number.  I answer.  He convinces me that what he's offering is what I need right now.  After we've commiserated way too long,  I politely hang up.  The call haunts me for a long time afterward.

Yesterday, out-of-nowhere, sin came calling.  Before I realized who was at the door, I opened my heart to him.  He approached.  We embraced.  A strange comfort washed over me.  His grip was firm, yet loving.    I felt like I needed him, but was afraid to trust him. Quietly I whispered, "you can have your way with me, but please don't take all day."   I relinquished control.

In our time together, he reminded me of missed opportunities that were now dead.  I longed for them, but knew my desire could not bring them back to life.  I wanted to remember the joy and love I once had, but it only brought anger and confusion.  Just when I was about to lash out at sin, I realized we were out of time. I had an appointment and dashed out the door, leaving sin alone.

In his absence I recognize how easily I become entangled with him.  The more time I spend with sin, the more I can't break free from his clutches. If I'm not careful, he will set up permanent residence in my heart.  Why does he show up so unexpectedly? I could deal with him easier if he'd call ahead to let me know what time he was coming.  I wouldn't answer the door.

Later in the day, I'd almost forgotten our earlier rendezvous. The doorbell rang. I flung open the door, and there stood my foe. I felt stronger, but because I'd spent so much time with him earlier, I hesitated just a moment before slamming the door. Before I could shut him out, he wedged his foot in the door. I pushed against it with all of my might, but could not get him out. All I could think about was Lot's wife. As she was about to be delivered from the evils of Sodom and Gomorrah, she almost escaped with her life. Instead, she lingered only a moment. She glanced back to see what she was leaving behind. Lot's wife became a pillar of salt.

Feeling helpless and hopeless, I cry out to my Savior.  Immediately He appears.  The door slams shut.  With tears of repentance, I fall into His waiting arms.  The love I feel is immeasurable.  He doesn't say a word.  He doesn't need to.  I know.

Why do I wait so long to ask for His help?  Why do I battle with sin on my own?  He is the only one who has ever had victory over sin.  He is the one I need.

Truthfully,
Joanne 

''Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and unto those who look for Him shall He appear the second time without sin, unto salvation."

Thursday, November 08, 2012

Another Fifty

Another post in the Fifty Series

I received a lovely text message from my son yesterday.  He was disgusted with the way people were trashing the president of the United States.  He expressed his gratitude that I taught him  to respect the president regardless of whether we agreed with him or not.  I am proud of him for his integrity.

Christopher, 
 Twenty-eight years, where has the time gone?

Looking back I remember a little boy, just two years old,  with his big sister.  I smiled seeing you playing so nicely together.  I saw you sharing.  You held out the rope to your sister, "Here Chrisnina."  As she reached for it, you snatched it back just out of her grasp, laughing.  "Hahaha, get it!" You taunted.  I knew right then and there that: you had a sense of humor, you possessed a love for fun, and that boys were very different from girls.

You were all boy, fiercely competitive, always striving to win, yet you maintained a sense of fairness and good sportsmanship.

Image hosting by Photobucket


You enjoyed riddles, figuring things out, and winning math competitions, yet you also had a tender side.  You grew from the little boy who prayed for his mom when she was sick, to the young man who wasn't afraid to hug his mom in public, to an adult man who desires justice, willing to defend those who are weak.



I'm proud of the man and husband you are.  You walk with Lauren as a partner and friend, not ahead of her or behind, but united as one.  I am so happy you found a good wife.  Together you are strong and will accomplish much in this life.  I love you!


Truthfully,
Joanne

"The generous soul will be made rich,
And he who waters will also be watered himself.

He who earnestly seeks good finds favor, 
 The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life,  
And he who wins souls is wise."
(Proverbs 11:25,27,30)

Wednesday, November 07, 2012

Flames Of Fire

A couple of weeks ago, I had plans to go out-of-state.  At the same time, life was unraveling at home and I was feeling a tad guilty for abandoning my family.  One of the reasons for the trip: I found flights on Southwest Airlines for $58 Roundtrip to Phoenix. The price included fees, taxes and airfare.  How could I not go?

I was on the phone with my lovely sister-in-law, explaining my predicament.  I was happy to be coming for a visit, but how could I enjoy myself knowing I was leaving my family in need.  Kathleen, my tell-it-like-it-is sister-in-law, set me straight.

"Joanne," she began, "the world does NOT revolve around you."

"What?"

"No, it does not.  When you get on that plane, leaving your family behind, the world will NOT stop spinning. It will not fall off its axis and life will not fall apart."

Oh my word!  I laughed.  I wasn't sure whether I should be offended or relieved.  The world does not revolve around me, people.  And that means: it doesn't revolve around you either!

I should have had this figured out by now.  The last time I went out of town, life was strangely quiet.  My phone never rang.  I didn't receive a single message.  Every hour or so, I would pull out my phone, convinced I missed a call or text.  Could I really go a full 2.5 days without someone needing me?  Nobody phoned to ask how to work the crockpot, or where we keep the laundry soap.  Nobody called to ask my advice in handling a difficult situation.   Nobody asked when I was coming home.  Have I really become a mere mortal that the world can truly live without????  Shocking!

This trip was originally scheduled as a time for Michael and I to get away for a few days.  As it frequently  happens, in my attempt to accommodate the most people, the date and circumstances of our trip changed several times.  In the end, this meant my parents would be gone for the first part of my visit to Arizona, Michael would not be my travel companion, and rather than coming along, his mother chose to have a medical procedure that week.  This is where guilt entered the equation.  I'm ever so grateful for Kathleen's perspective that helped kick it to the curb.

Having no responsibilities and no guilt, it was wonderfully refreshing to look at the world around me with new eyes.  My parents drove their new car to California so my father could attend his 55th high school reunion.  How awesome is that?  I spent time with my sisters and brother. I had the pleasure of getting to know my nieces and nephews a little better and was able to appreciate their many talents and giftings.  I had conversations about religion, politics, philosophies, even music. I met new people and spent time doing arts and crafts.  My parents returned. We went out to dinner nearly every night. 

The day before I returned home, my parents and I went to the Musical Instrument Museum.  We spent 4 hours listening to music, learning about the musical culture of other countries through their instruments, and the history of music in our own country.  I feared my parents would be worn out from walking and standing for so long.  I was wrong.  On the way home, we stopped at a clock shop to peruse their wares.  We then enjoyed another fine meal of dining out.

So what is the point of this post?  This trip caused me to realize, in more ways than one, that I've let some of my passions in life fade to indifference.  Without vision, without passion, people perish. Time to light the fire, fan the flames, and ignite the passion.  Look out world!


Truthfully,
Joanne

"I know your works, that you are neither cold nor hot. I could wish you were cold or hot.  So then, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will vomit you out of My mouth. Revelation 3:15-16

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

This Day

Twenty years ago today, we moved.  We didn't move far. A big moving truck, lots of packing, and many back and forth trips were required to move our family and our huge assortment of toys, clothes, and all items necessary for a family of seven.  Our children were 11, 8, 5, 3, and baby Hilary was 7 months.  The home we vacated was 40 years old with 3 small bedrooms and 2 bathrooms.  The new one was only 30 years old, had, had 5 bedrooms 3 baths, and nearly double the square footage.  We were excited to have room to grow. We've seen a lot of growth and change in the past 20 years.

Our kitchen floor was a burnt orange carpet.  Hilary took pleasure in crawling around on the soft rug while I cooked. I often had to step over several kids lying about while preparing meals. It was warm and cozy.  In spite of vacuuming twice a day, gummy cheerios, spilled milk, and sticky baby food clung to the fibers like glue.   We purchased new carpeting.  That light gray color lasted a year, before switching to vinyl tile in big blue squares. 


 Today we have beautiful hardwood flooring.

Hilary learned to walk, ride a bike, and grew up in the only home she remembers.  She now lives over an hour away and is crazy busy with college life.  I wonder if she remembers how stressful this day was for her every single year.  She agonized over how she should dress.  Her costume had to be perfect for trick-or-treating.  I'm not sure it ever was.  I recall a lot of tears and frustration.  The bewitching hour always hit when I was in the midst of throwing dinner on the table.   I finally wised up and made soup in the crockpot with fresh bread in the bread machine to avoid the last minute adjustments to dressing up.

I thought I did a pretty good job the year the Matrix and The Matrix Reloaded came out.
I enjoyed helping her get her hair just right.

She wasn't convinced this was going to pass the inspection of her critical friends, but we somehow survived for another year.


This is Sarabeth, a neighbor, and Hilary on their way out the door: 

I had hoped to recap each of my kids and an anecdote or two, but I'm running out of time.  Here are the pumpkin carvings this year by Elisabeth, Brian, Sarabeth, Travis, Hilary, and Tyler:

Here are a few shots of recent pumpkin coverage:
Brian, Elisabeth, Sarabeth, & Hilary 
2006


2007 Pumpkins

2008
Sarabeth's Haunted House Work
2010

2011


Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Wednesday's What???

Some days, you have to wonder, or at the very least blurt out, "What in the world?" ( I know some of you have the propensity to utter the short "what-the-insert-expletive-here" but I'll leave those words for you and your pondering outbursts.)

I spent much of yesterday with that phrase in my forethoughts, while trying to sort through the various dialogs with health care professionals providing care for my mother-in-law.  It was a long, confusing, sad day.  "What the?"

Driving home after dark, I decided to stop for a bite to eat.  The traffic signal at that particular intersection was out.  Nobody seemed to know what to do, so I cautiously proceeded through while cars were beginning to back up on all sides.  I turned into the burger joint to find a hand-written cardboard sign blocking the drive through window.  Scrawled across the board were the words:

 NO POWER
NO ELECTRICITY
 NO FOOD

"What the?"

I scanned the neighborhood as I drove home.  Street lights were shining and homes were lit, so I figured it must be an isolated incident.  I pulled in the garage, closed the door, and just as I opened the trunk of my car, my world went dark.  I fumbled my way to the house by the dim trunk light.  I was greeted by a familiar voice sitting nearby, but could see nothing but blackness no matter how long I stood there waiting for my eyes to adjust.  "What the?"

This morning, although I'd reset my clock after the power returned, I saw the numbers flashing.  What time was it?  I looked at my phone and noticed it was an hour later than my alarm should have gone off.  I checked to see if I'd set my phone alarm correctly.  PM was checked in stead of AM.  "What the?"

Strong winds had broken branches outside.  The tomato plant I rescued from the first frost and snow was laying in a heap at the bottom of the steps, along with my treasured nearly ripened tomatoes.  "What the?"

While back at the hospital I received a message from my niece.  It read, "My daughter has lice, you should check yourself just in case.  Le me know ok?"  Last week I attended her 6 year old birthday party.  My head began to itch.  "What the?"

I came home this afternoon, after spending 7 hours at the hospital to a phone call.  I listened to the message:  "Reports of shots fired near insert-location-here, police are responding.  Remain inside, seek shelter immediately.  Updates to follow."  The message was from the University my son attends.  "What the?"

I'm thinking I should go back to bed or something.  If I did, my husband would fly in and be standing at the airport, with no wife to greet him saying,  "What the?"

 

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Traditional Says Flowers, Modern Is Linen/Silk

Happy Anniversary to Christopher and Lauren

I can't believe it's been 4 years. 

Yet I can hardly remember a time when it was just Christopher, and not "Lauren and Christopher."
Having met in 8th grade, you grew up together.
Experienced Adventures,
Waded out in the deep,

Forth

 Did I mention something about being all grown up?

 I am both proud and in awe of you.  

The love you share, 

the way you work together


 and complement one another 


is nothing short of amazing.  

The two of you are a perfect example of what God meant when He said "the two shall be as one."

Happy Forth Anniversary Christopher and Lauren

Sunday, September 23, 2012

It Must Be My Car

"Do you have a problem with my driving?"  His voice was gruff and sounded threatening.  I leaned my head towards the open window in disbelief.

"Uh, I'm not sure what you mean," I stammered a little dumbfounded.  Straining, I could see his helmet and dark glasses, but my gaze was more comfortable focused on his badge.  My heart was racing.  I should have retrieved my license, proof of insurance, and registration, but I was so shocked, I just sat there.  I could not think of one reason for the officer to pull me over.

We were driving home from Fort Collins, down I-25.  I saw the unmarked patrol car up ahead of me.  Unlike so many other cars, I didn't jam on my brakes or slow down.  I don't make a habit of speeding.  I confidently followed him.  We drove along for some time in the fast lane.  After passing quite a few vehicles, he moved into the right lane.  Knowing a friend was given a ticket for "riding in the left lane too long" I also merged back after passing the large semi truck.

I began creeping up on the officer, so I passed him.  I then moved back into his lane directly in front of him.  Almost immediately, I saw flashing lights in my rearview mirror.


I don't remember everything he said to me, but he was angry because apparently when I passed him, I made an "unsafe lane change."

"The guy behind you was doing 86, and he had to slam on his brakes when you pulled in front of him.  I was going to give him a ticket, but you got in my way.  Then I noticed you didn't have a front license plate, so I pulled you over instead."


Nice.  After I showed him I did have a front plate (not attached, but resting beside the passenger seat,) and after he took my license, registration, and proof of insurance, I was handed a warning.  I was thankful for no tickets, but it took 20 minutes for my heart to quit pounding.  I must have been sweating too.  When I stopped for gas, I noticed the back of my shirt was stuck to my back.

I wonder if that white SUV realizes he was spared a ticket, even if it was accidental on my part.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

A Song

Today, this song is the only one I can sing:

Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name


Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name


Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say


Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name


Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name


Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name


Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say


Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name


You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name


Truthfully,
Joanne

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ"

Thirteen Days With Ethan

Okay, I'll admit it.  I was nervous about having Ethan for 13 days.  Christina and Danny were headed out of the country on their honeymoon and I would be in charge.
  • What if he refused to get on the school bus in the morning?
  • What if he cried because he wanted to talk to his mom before going to bed and was inconsolable? 
  • What if I forgot what time the school bus dropped him off and I wasn't there?
  • What if he had a seizure, asthma attack, or severe allergic reaction?
  • What if he woke up in the middle of the night, wandered outside, and I couldn't find him?  (It isn't as if this hasn't happened before.)
Okay, I was more than nervous, I was terrified.  To some, these fears might seem illogical and absurd, but if you've had any personal experience with Ethan the you can understand why I was afraid.

I figured the weekends would be easy, as I'd be at home with Grandpa and others to help.  On school nights it would be just me and my curious, fearless grandson.

I was pleasantly surprised at how peaceful life was with Ethan.  I'd forgotten that Brenda would be there to get him ready for school, take him to therapy, etc.  Can you tell how much he loves her?
Even the two days he was sick were nice and easy.  We read books, watched Tranformers, drank sodas and laughed a lot.  He was so sweet taking naps on the couch while Gramma played on the computer.

The real challenges came the following weekend at my house.  


We rode bikes with Superman,

 And also with Camden.   

Unfortunately, Ethan is allergic to dogs.  It's impossible to keep him from playing with her so in between we have a lot of baths and ointment to soothe his hives and take meds to avoid having asthma attacks.  Consequently, a lot of time is spent keeping a watchful eye on the dog.  Ethan's answer to his itchiness is to give Camden a bath in the washing machine.  We can't seem to get him to believe the dog cannot go through the wash like his stuffed animals.

One night, after Ethan was asleep, Camden came up the stairs and planted herself on my lap.  I was surprised that Sarabeth had let her out.  Her bed is in the laundry room, where she sleeps.  I let the dog stay with me, as I didn't want her to awaken Ethan.  Some time later, I noticed a soft floral fragrance floating in the air.  I figured Sarabeth must have taken a shower and used scented lotion afterwards.  I assumed she'd be up to get Camden any minute.

Then I heard loud clunking noises.  What in the world had Sarabeth put in the dryer?  It sounded like she'd washed her sneakers and was drying them, but forgot to put towels with them to soften the blows.  Was she trying to wake up her nephew with all of that noise?  I was just standing up to go find her when she appeared at the top of the stairs, sleepy-eyed.

"Did you know Ethan is doing laundry?"  She asked.

Doing laundry indeed!  I found the washer running with the clean clothes that earlier had been folded on the table.  Banging around inside the dryer was an empty bottle of detergent and an empty bottle of fabric softener, along with Ethan's soaking wet pajamas.  Presumably, the previously full bottles had been emptied into the washing machine, except for the puddles on the floor and the streams running down the machines.  Ethan wasn't in there and thankfully the dog wasn't inside the washing machine either.

I rushed to the bathroom and found toothpaste smeared across the counter, in the sink, and on the floor.  An empty canister of hair mousse lay next to a giant mound of white fluff. There stood Ethan, naked and brushing his teeth. I was shocked.  How could I have forgotten to brush his teeth before putting him to bed?  I was kind of surprised that he didn't sign, "Silly Gramma" to me.

What did I expect?