The other day, Johnny was complaining to me that Kelly didn't like him. Loudly. A short time later, when he had calmed down, I reminded him of a family story about prayer.
When I was pregnant with Laine, they told me it was a girl, but since I've known several people to be surprised when the opposite gender child popped out at the end of nine months, I always told the children that the doctor said it was one sex, but it could be the other. We always selected names for both sexes. So when I was pregnant with Laine, I told Joe and Kelly that if we had a girl, the baby would be called Mary, and if it was a boy, the baby would be called Johnny. (I should probably explain that Laine's name is Mary Elaine, but we always intended to call her Laine as her nickname.) Laine was going to be our last baby...no more after her.
When I had Laine, Kelly came to visit at the hospital. At three years old, she always said what she thought. She thought Laine was really cute, and she was really happy to see her. She held her and sang to her and got really jealous when Erin held her. She told Joe to be careful when he was holding his new baby sister. Then when it was time to go home, she became very agitated. When I asked her what was wrong, she kept asking "What about Johnny?" I tried to explain to her that the baby could have been a boy or a girl, but we had a girl baby, and there was no boy baby. She was still upset and began to cry when we got into the car without Johnny. I finally calmed her down.
Yet everyday after that, anytime Kelly said a prayer, she prayed that Johnny would come to our family. She prayed that her little brother could be born. She asked that she could see her little brother and hold him. She asked at bedtime, and in the morning, and at meals. She asked in her prayers in her classes at church, too.
I was actively trying to prevent getting pregnant, not because I didn't want any more children, but because the stress in our home was enormous. Well, after about one year of Kelly's constant prayers, I found out that I was pregnant, and Johnny came into our family 21 months after Laine. Right from the start, Kelly was convinced that her little brother was the cutest little guy she had ever seen, except for bubba Joe. He was loved immediately by all of us!
Now when I told this story to Johnny, his countenance brightened. And now, when he's feeling upset with Kelly, I just remind him that she prayed him into our family, and she does love him.
Prayer works, my friends. Johnny is living proof.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Small Miracles
Yesterday, I tackled my closet. And when I say tackled, I mean it. I keep all of my paints, clay, craft supplies, sewing supplies, and yarn in my closet in addition to my clothes. Over the past six months as I've been preoccupied with school, Kelly (and the other kids, but mostly Kelly) has been helping herself to whatever is in the closet, which wouldn't be so bad if she returned things to where she got them, and put other things back that she moved out of the way or tidied up in the slightest. Let's just say, that's a dream that's unlikely to hit reality until she has her own kids and starts to realize how disorganization consumes life.
Anyway, my closet was a complete and utter disaster. As I was working, I was fighting my tendency to give up on projects that seem too overwhelming. It causes this depression and a kind of paralysis when I am faced with a task that huge. Nevertheless, I pressed forward and about the time that I was feeling super discouraged, I found a basket filled with miscellaneous items that needed sorting. I sat down at the table to clear it out, and when I dumped it on the table, I noticed something sparkly still stuck in the basket. Upon closer examination, I discovered much to my shock and pleasure, that the ring that I had put in my purse to get sized (right before it was stolen from my car) was THERE!
Stuck in this basket was a small miracle. Now this is not an expensive ring. It has a "blue" pearl and the teeniest of diamonds set in a simple gold setting, but I've used it since I first received it to remind myself of God's love for me, that each person is a pearl of great price in his eyes, and that I should value myself and everyone I meet. It's also symbolic of the gospel to me. When I happened upon this ring, I felt certain that it was God reminding me of all of my blessings, and his sure knowledge of the things that give me pleasure. I know it was a small thing, but to have thought these several months that it was gone forever, and then to find it in a place where it ought not to have been, gave me such peaceful joy. He truly knows our hearts!
Anyway, my closet was a complete and utter disaster. As I was working, I was fighting my tendency to give up on projects that seem too overwhelming. It causes this depression and a kind of paralysis when I am faced with a task that huge. Nevertheless, I pressed forward and about the time that I was feeling super discouraged, I found a basket filled with miscellaneous items that needed sorting. I sat down at the table to clear it out, and when I dumped it on the table, I noticed something sparkly still stuck in the basket. Upon closer examination, I discovered much to my shock and pleasure, that the ring that I had put in my purse to get sized (right before it was stolen from my car) was THERE!
Stuck in this basket was a small miracle. Now this is not an expensive ring. It has a "blue" pearl and the teeniest of diamonds set in a simple gold setting, but I've used it since I first received it to remind myself of God's love for me, that each person is a pearl of great price in his eyes, and that I should value myself and everyone I meet. It's also symbolic of the gospel to me. When I happened upon this ring, I felt certain that it was God reminding me of all of my blessings, and his sure knowledge of the things that give me pleasure. I know it was a small thing, but to have thought these several months that it was gone forever, and then to find it in a place where it ought not to have been, gave me such peaceful joy. He truly knows our hearts!
Friday, July 15, 2011
The Harry Potter Scar
This week is the release of the final movie of Harry Potter. My kids and I have loved the books and then the movies since it first came out in the same year that Joe was born. We've eagerly anticipated each new book and each new movie. It's sad to see it come to a close. I haven't seen the latest movie yet...midnight showings were sold out before I could get tickets, and the kids are with their dad this weekend.
One of the reasons why Harry Potter is so popular in our house is because of what happened to Joe when he was 4, 2.5 months before he turned 5. At the time, some friends of mine and I were doing a "home school" preschool. We took turns having the kids at our homes a few days a week. This particular week, it was Holly's turn to host the children. She was living with her mother in law, mother of nine (I think).
I had been up all night because my two youngest (2.5 and 1) had been sick the day before and partly through the night, cranky and uncomfortable. I decided not to send Joe to pre-school that morning, because I didn't want to wake the younger children who had finally gone to sleep, and I was too pooped to pop. Patrick had left town early that morning to do an interview. I was cranky, too. My friend Lora called and suggested that she take Joe to preschool, which at first I was hesitant about, but then decided it would be a quiet, boring morning for him if he didn't go.
Well, about 10 in the morning, in the middle of changing my two youngest (again!), I received a call from Holly's mother-in-law. Very calmly and sweetly, she told me that I needed to come right away to their house because Joe had had an accident. At first, I was thinking, oh...he wet his pants, or maybe he's sick now, too. I asked her what sort of accident. She said, it's very serious and we've already called the ambulance. Now when someone who has had that many children tells you something is serious, all sorts of thoughts run through your head. I'm thinking...AMBULANCE?!? I put my children into the van in just their diapers, and drove as fast as I dared to their home. Cars in front of me seemed to be crawling along, and I'm afraid I wasn't very patient with them as I simultaneously prayed that my little son would be okay. I also phoned Patrick and explained to him what was going on. He said he would head back to Fresno.
I pulled up in front of their house. The ambulance was already there. I left my two youngest in the van and ran inside. When I walked in, I noticed several things. First of all, Joe's head was completely bandaged around his forehead area and covering one eye. Second, his shirt, covered in blood, was nearby, cut off his body. Third, there were towels covered in blood, and they were about to put my little guy on a back board. He was concious, and when he saw me, he moved to my lap as quick as he could. The EMT's began asking me questions about his medical history, and asking me where they should take him. I wasn't processing anything. I felt panic even worse than when I first received the call as I heard words like "concussion," "head trauma," and "potential brain damage." I looked across the room at Brother Ensign, who was in the temple presidency. Seeing him there strengthened me, and reminded me that I wasn't alone, and had the power of the priesthood at my disposal. I asked the EMT's to repeat everything, and as we sorted everything out, they said I could ride with Joe to the hospital. I asked Brother Ensign to give Joe a blessing before we left, which he did. I felt much calmer after that. I asked Holly if she could watch my kids and we walked out to the van together, where she told me what had happened.
He had been playing with the tether-ball mounted on a tire in the back yard, and the pole somehow fell and hit him on the head. She had been inside checking on something, and Joe walked in the back door, covered in blood. I can't even imagine the terror she must have felt. I'm so grateful for her quick response in getting help.
In the ambulance, the EMT suggested that we start an IV so that in case surgery was required, they would be able to do so more quickly. I tried to explain to Joe what was going to happen, and told him it might hurt a little, and that he could scream if he wanted. He did want to. I think people three blocks away could have heard him. I tried to distract him with his "ET finger," the pulse device they put on his finger to measure oxygen saturation and his pulse, because it was all lit up like ET's finger in the movie.
At the hospital, they did some diagnostic tests to see if Joe had a concussion. They asked me if he was behaving normally, a question which seemed odd to me since nothing about this situation was normal for either one of us. They determined that he did not have any fractures, and then they decided to take him off the backboard, which made all of us much happier. They took off the bandages and began to clean the wound. I almost passed out when I saw his head. I could literally see his skull as they moved the skin about to see what the extent of the injury was. Joe's eye was already turning black, he had cuts on his face besides the big one on his head, and the other eye was also turning black in the corner, probably from all the swelling. I felt badly for Joe, and I also was concerned about his perfect little face having a permanent scar. Looking back, I can see what a trivial concern that was, but at the time, it was one more concern I had.
They decided to use a process called concious sedation since he was already on an IV. They administered the medication, and mid-sentence, my son stopped talking and seemed to be sleeping. They had to do three layers of stitches because the injury went through all the layers of the skin to the skull. All total, he had 42 stitches. Just as they finished the stitches, Joe woke up, and strangely enough, finished the sentence he had been saying when he fell asleep. They kept him in the hospital for a few hours, just to observe him and make sure he was okay, and eventually sent us home.
That was the scariest thing I've ever been through as a mother. We referred to his scar as his "Harry Potter Scar" to all of his friends and family, to relieve some of the stigma he might have felt as people asked him what happened over and over again. Guess what costume Joe chose for Halloween for many years after that? Harry Potter!
One of the reasons why Harry Potter is so popular in our house is because of what happened to Joe when he was 4, 2.5 months before he turned 5. At the time, some friends of mine and I were doing a "home school" preschool. We took turns having the kids at our homes a few days a week. This particular week, it was Holly's turn to host the children. She was living with her mother in law, mother of nine (I think).
I had been up all night because my two youngest (2.5 and 1) had been sick the day before and partly through the night, cranky and uncomfortable. I decided not to send Joe to pre-school that morning, because I didn't want to wake the younger children who had finally gone to sleep, and I was too pooped to pop. Patrick had left town early that morning to do an interview. I was cranky, too. My friend Lora called and suggested that she take Joe to preschool, which at first I was hesitant about, but then decided it would be a quiet, boring morning for him if he didn't go.
Well, about 10 in the morning, in the middle of changing my two youngest (again!), I received a call from Holly's mother-in-law. Very calmly and sweetly, she told me that I needed to come right away to their house because Joe had had an accident. At first, I was thinking, oh...he wet his pants, or maybe he's sick now, too. I asked her what sort of accident. She said, it's very serious and we've already called the ambulance. Now when someone who has had that many children tells you something is serious, all sorts of thoughts run through your head. I'm thinking...AMBULANCE?!? I put my children into the van in just their diapers, and drove as fast as I dared to their home. Cars in front of me seemed to be crawling along, and I'm afraid I wasn't very patient with them as I simultaneously prayed that my little son would be okay. I also phoned Patrick and explained to him what was going on. He said he would head back to Fresno.
I pulled up in front of their house. The ambulance was already there. I left my two youngest in the van and ran inside. When I walked in, I noticed several things. First of all, Joe's head was completely bandaged around his forehead area and covering one eye. Second, his shirt, covered in blood, was nearby, cut off his body. Third, there were towels covered in blood, and they were about to put my little guy on a back board. He was concious, and when he saw me, he moved to my lap as quick as he could. The EMT's began asking me questions about his medical history, and asking me where they should take him. I wasn't processing anything. I felt panic even worse than when I first received the call as I heard words like "concussion," "head trauma," and "potential brain damage." I looked across the room at Brother Ensign, who was in the temple presidency. Seeing him there strengthened me, and reminded me that I wasn't alone, and had the power of the priesthood at my disposal. I asked the EMT's to repeat everything, and as we sorted everything out, they said I could ride with Joe to the hospital. I asked Brother Ensign to give Joe a blessing before we left, which he did. I felt much calmer after that. I asked Holly if she could watch my kids and we walked out to the van together, where she told me what had happened.
He had been playing with the tether-ball mounted on a tire in the back yard, and the pole somehow fell and hit him on the head. She had been inside checking on something, and Joe walked in the back door, covered in blood. I can't even imagine the terror she must have felt. I'm so grateful for her quick response in getting help.
In the ambulance, the EMT suggested that we start an IV so that in case surgery was required, they would be able to do so more quickly. I tried to explain to Joe what was going to happen, and told him it might hurt a little, and that he could scream if he wanted. He did want to. I think people three blocks away could have heard him. I tried to distract him with his "ET finger," the pulse device they put on his finger to measure oxygen saturation and his pulse, because it was all lit up like ET's finger in the movie.
At the hospital, they did some diagnostic tests to see if Joe had a concussion. They asked me if he was behaving normally, a question which seemed odd to me since nothing about this situation was normal for either one of us. They determined that he did not have any fractures, and then they decided to take him off the backboard, which made all of us much happier. They took off the bandages and began to clean the wound. I almost passed out when I saw his head. I could literally see his skull as they moved the skin about to see what the extent of the injury was. Joe's eye was already turning black, he had cuts on his face besides the big one on his head, and the other eye was also turning black in the corner, probably from all the swelling. I felt badly for Joe, and I also was concerned about his perfect little face having a permanent scar. Looking back, I can see what a trivial concern that was, but at the time, it was one more concern I had.
They decided to use a process called concious sedation since he was already on an IV. They administered the medication, and mid-sentence, my son stopped talking and seemed to be sleeping. They had to do three layers of stitches because the injury went through all the layers of the skin to the skull. All total, he had 42 stitches. Just as they finished the stitches, Joe woke up, and strangely enough, finished the sentence he had been saying when he fell asleep. They kept him in the hospital for a few hours, just to observe him and make sure he was okay, and eventually sent us home.
That was the scariest thing I've ever been through as a mother. We referred to his scar as his "Harry Potter Scar" to all of his friends and family, to relieve some of the stigma he might have felt as people asked him what happened over and over again. Guess what costume Joe chose for Halloween for many years after that? Harry Potter!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Nice - A four letter word
All my life I've been plagued with it. It seems like a vanilla term for, "Sure, I can tolerate you, but I'd really rather have chocolate (or strawberry, or chocolate malted crunch - anything but you!).
Nice implies you aren't beautiful, or pretty, or sexy. Nice says, "I go out of my way to make sure others are happy." Nice doesn't offend. It's the word guys use when a woman isn't enough of something...not beautiful enough, not skinny enough, not blond enough. Women use it in almost the same way about men, at times.
Usually the word is offered by people who mean well. They want to say something positive, but don't really know what else to say. I can't fault them for it. I'm not upset or offended when someone uses it. It just seems like the bane of my existence. Should I be a little less nice?
Nice gets attached to parties without pizzaz, music without sparkle, drawings without the wow factor.
Nice. Not quite an insult. Not quite a compliment.
Nice implies you aren't beautiful, or pretty, or sexy. Nice says, "I go out of my way to make sure others are happy." Nice doesn't offend. It's the word guys use when a woman isn't enough of something...not beautiful enough, not skinny enough, not blond enough. Women use it in almost the same way about men, at times.
Usually the word is offered by people who mean well. They want to say something positive, but don't really know what else to say. I can't fault them for it. I'm not upset or offended when someone uses it. It just seems like the bane of my existence. Should I be a little less nice?
Nice gets attached to parties without pizzaz, music without sparkle, drawings without the wow factor.
Nice. Not quite an insult. Not quite a compliment.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Laine Turns 12!
My youngest daughter just turned 12. It's a bittersweet day, for sure.
I remember going into labor with her on the fourth of July, which that year happened to occur on a Sunday. My back had been hurting all day, and the fireworks had upset my schnauzer (Lucy) to the point that she had hurt herself on the gate, cutting her paw open. I put the dog on the bed and was trying to clean and debris the wound, and I couldn't get over how much my back hurt. I knew it couldn't be labor (wink, wink), because with Joe and Kelly I was exactly one week past my due date before I went into labor, I still had five days to go before she was due, and I knew what contractions felt like. After a few hours, the pain in my back became too intense to ignore, and I found myself frantically packing a bag to go to the hospital. When I arrived at the hospital, I discovered that I was in labor, all right...back labor because Laine was turned the opposite way from the way she was supposed to come out. Because the pain was so intense, they decided to give me an epidural, but they had to do lab work first. I grabbed the doctor's arm and told him, "I want the epidural NOW." I think he knew I wasn't kidding at that point, because he did what I asked. Laine turned around the right direction on her own and labor became much easier at that point. She made her appearance on Monday morning.
She has always been such a joy to me. She was the snugly daughter I always wanted (since Kelly was anti-snuggling), charming and full of energy. She was the earliest "laugher" in our family. She was always smiling and giggling about something. When she was upset about something, it was easy to calm her with touch...she loved for me to trace little patterns lightly on her hands, rub her neck, scratch her back or tickle her arms. (All those things are still true!) She has turned out to be a smart child, helpful, organized and conscientious in all that she does. She has a keen intellect, a personable nature, and a kind heart. She can sing beautifully and has tremendous acting ability as well.
I'm so blessed to have her sweet spirit in my home!
I remember going into labor with her on the fourth of July, which that year happened to occur on a Sunday. My back had been hurting all day, and the fireworks had upset my schnauzer (Lucy) to the point that she had hurt herself on the gate, cutting her paw open. I put the dog on the bed and was trying to clean and debris the wound, and I couldn't get over how much my back hurt. I knew it couldn't be labor (wink, wink), because with Joe and Kelly I was exactly one week past my due date before I went into labor, I still had five days to go before she was due, and I knew what contractions felt like. After a few hours, the pain in my back became too intense to ignore, and I found myself frantically packing a bag to go to the hospital. When I arrived at the hospital, I discovered that I was in labor, all right...back labor because Laine was turned the opposite way from the way she was supposed to come out. Because the pain was so intense, they decided to give me an epidural, but they had to do lab work first. I grabbed the doctor's arm and told him, "I want the epidural NOW." I think he knew I wasn't kidding at that point, because he did what I asked. Laine turned around the right direction on her own and labor became much easier at that point. She made her appearance on Monday morning.
She has always been such a joy to me. She was the snugly daughter I always wanted (since Kelly was anti-snuggling), charming and full of energy. She was the earliest "laugher" in our family. She was always smiling and giggling about something. When she was upset about something, it was easy to calm her with touch...she loved for me to trace little patterns lightly on her hands, rub her neck, scratch her back or tickle her arms. (All those things are still true!) She has turned out to be a smart child, helpful, organized and conscientious in all that she does. She has a keen intellect, a personable nature, and a kind heart. She can sing beautifully and has tremendous acting ability as well.
I'm so blessed to have her sweet spirit in my home!
Friday, July 1, 2011
July?? How did that happen??
Sheez. Time is speeding up in a BIG way!
The first day of July began with a "bang." We woke up early and prepared for a photo session. It occurred to me as I looked around my house that all the photos (family or otherwise) have really cute, adorable little children, all under ten, and I looked around at my kids and realized it was time for some new photos. Joe just turned 14, Laine is about to turn 12 on Tuesday, Johnny is 10, and Kelly turns 16 in September. Holly agreed to try to get some decent photos. I can't wait to see them! If they're any good, I'll post a few here.
Afterward, we went straight to Poverello house for an orientation. Our family is trying to do a summer of service. We spend each Tuesday morning at the Bishop's storehouse volunteering to fill orders of food for needy members of the community. Our plan is to add spending Friday mornings working down at the Poverello house actually serving food to needy people in our community. So far, these are the only opportunities I have found that will take children under 16. I'm still looking! We are also learning to make hats and blankets for a humanitarian project.
This afternoon, I fell asleep on the couch...remnants of yesterday's exhaustion, I think. Kelly and Joe have temple service tomorrow morning at 5:30, then in the afternoon, Joe heads off to Scout Camp. My girls will leave for camp next week...Kelly on Monday and Laine on Tuesday. She's devastated that she has to leave on her birthday. I hope she enjoys herself.
I hope this month doesn't fly by too fast...I am enjoying my children immensely!
The first day of July began with a "bang." We woke up early and prepared for a photo session. It occurred to me as I looked around my house that all the photos (family or otherwise) have really cute, adorable little children, all under ten, and I looked around at my kids and realized it was time for some new photos. Joe just turned 14, Laine is about to turn 12 on Tuesday, Johnny is 10, and Kelly turns 16 in September. Holly agreed to try to get some decent photos. I can't wait to see them! If they're any good, I'll post a few here.
Afterward, we went straight to Poverello house for an orientation. Our family is trying to do a summer of service. We spend each Tuesday morning at the Bishop's storehouse volunteering to fill orders of food for needy members of the community. Our plan is to add spending Friday mornings working down at the Poverello house actually serving food to needy people in our community. So far, these are the only opportunities I have found that will take children under 16. I'm still looking! We are also learning to make hats and blankets for a humanitarian project.
This afternoon, I fell asleep on the couch...remnants of yesterday's exhaustion, I think. Kelly and Joe have temple service tomorrow morning at 5:30, then in the afternoon, Joe heads off to Scout Camp. My girls will leave for camp next week...Kelly on Monday and Laine on Tuesday. She's devastated that she has to leave on her birthday. I hope she enjoys herself.
I hope this month doesn't fly by too fast...I am enjoying my children immensely!
Monday, June 27, 2011
Advancing
Joe had an interview with the Bishop yesterday to advance in the priesthood...he'll be moving from a deacon to a teacher on July 10th, the Sunday after Scout camp is over. He has asked Bro. DeButts, a ward member that Joe looks up to and admires, to do the ordination, and he has graciously agreed.
Joe turns 14 tomorrow. Joe is such an honorable young man...he always tries to do his duty. He's honest and kind. He has a clear conscience because he does what he is supposed to, and doesn't do what he isn't supposed to. He even helps his siblings do the same.
I'm blessed to be his mom!!
Joe turns 14 tomorrow. Joe is such an honorable young man...he always tries to do his duty. He's honest and kind. He has a clear conscience because he does what he is supposed to, and doesn't do what he isn't supposed to. He even helps his siblings do the same.
I'm blessed to be his mom!!
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Hitting the Books
This summer I am taking 6 units at Fresno State. I knew it would be a lot of work, but I don't think I counted on 8 hours a day in class or doing homework. The two classes I'm taking are pretty intensive. One is an anthropology class on South East Asian cultures. It's an online course and there are a ton of books to read, online discussions and quizzes. The other class is a linguistics class, traditional classroom style, but it's combined with history of the world as well as a history of languages. That class requires a lot of work.
Yesterday, I had a quiz in linguistics. The test is online. You can only see one question at a time and you move from question to question without being able to go back to a previous question or skip any questions. It's a 30 minute timed test. The questions are a mixture of short answer, multiple choice, multiple answer and essay. When I came home from class yesterday, I was getting a migraine. I took medicine and hoped that it would improve. Instead it got worse, and I ended up having to go to bed for a bit. I couldn't focus my eyes and I felt like I was going to throw up. I set my alarm for 11 because the test had to be finished by midnight. When the alarm went off, I felt slightly better, but discovered as I was taking the test that I still could not focus well, neither my eyes nor my mind. I don't even know if I was able to pass the test. It's only a small portion of my grade, but I worry because I know that if I want to get into the Masters/Doctorate program, I have to be among the top ten applicants.
If anyone had told me that a headache could incapacitate someone so terribly before I experienced my first migraines, I wouldn't have believed them. I believe them now!
Time to get back to my classes. Have a great day, everyone! Pray that I survive the summer!
Yesterday, I had a quiz in linguistics. The test is online. You can only see one question at a time and you move from question to question without being able to go back to a previous question or skip any questions. It's a 30 minute timed test. The questions are a mixture of short answer, multiple choice, multiple answer and essay. When I came home from class yesterday, I was getting a migraine. I took medicine and hoped that it would improve. Instead it got worse, and I ended up having to go to bed for a bit. I couldn't focus my eyes and I felt like I was going to throw up. I set my alarm for 11 because the test had to be finished by midnight. When the alarm went off, I felt slightly better, but discovered as I was taking the test that I still could not focus well, neither my eyes nor my mind. I don't even know if I was able to pass the test.
If anyone had told me that a headache could incapacitate someone so terribly before I experienced my first migraines, I wouldn't have believed them. I believe them now!
Time to get back to my classes. Have a great day, everyone! Pray that I survive the summer!
Sunday, June 19, 2011
My Dad
My dad was a marine briefly, and after he left the marines, he went into civil service and worked on the base. When I was a kid, I thought my dad could fix anything. He was a heavy duty mechanic when I was young, and later was trained to be a radar maintenance technician. Some of my earliest memories involve visiting him on the base in San Diego. I remember looking out the back window at these tall men in uniforms who smiled at me as we drove through the gates. I also remember sitting in some kind of cafe on base with my dad and my mom, eating french fries with tons of ketchup. Everyone was so nice to me that I thought my dad must be really important. I stole my dad's french fries when he wasn't looking.
Later, when he was attending a community college near our home in 29 Palms, I remember driving to the college to pick him up once when the wind was blowing really hard, I think because he was worried about riding his motorcycle in the strong winds. When we returned home, the wind had blown part of our roof off and bent our CB antenna on the house. I remember worrying about my dad who I could hear walking around on the roof that night, trying to do some damage control.
I have been impressed with him all my life for his careful, thoughtful manner. He didn't get mad easily, but when he did get mad, watch out! It seemed like his eyes would change from blue to green when he was mad.
From my dad, I learned to love and respect motorcycles. I learned from him to clean the top of the refrigerator, how to peel potatoes, that a kitchen wasn't clean if you just washed the dishes...you had to wipe off the stove and clean the counters. He instilled in me to change my oil frequently...so much so that when my car's indicator tells me it's time to change my oil, I get extremely upset if I go past the indicated mileage and envision my car melting down in the middle of the highway from lack of maintenance. My dad also taught me to be a critical thinker...just because television or the news says it's so, doesn't mean it is. He taught me to be realistic and pragmatic. Life is hard, and most of the time, life doesn't work out the way you want it to, but that doesn't mean you should just give up.
My dad loved electronics...any technology in fact. He always wanted the most recent technological toys. He started his own repair and sales business for electronics and CB radios. His shop was in our garage in our back yard. I remember working with my dad in his shop when I had a science fair coming up. My dad helped me to make a sound synthesizer. I learned how to read a schematic, all about circuit boards, how to solder, what makes switches work, and all sorts of other things about electronics. My dad also taught me basic programming.
My dad was always a hard worker. He spent his time supporting his family and doing home and car repairs. He had a lot of strength, too. I remember one holiday when my parents were making turkey, my dad took the turkey out of the oven and the pan collapsed. Hot oil and liquid spilled onto his legs and feet. He carefully put the turkey back into the oven, closed the oven door, and walked to the bathroom where he filled up the tub with cold water and ice and took care of his injuries. I don't remember him saying a word during the accident. I'm sure it hurt terribly.
These days, my dad is retired from civil service. He still works part time at a tire shop and still fixes things. He looks after my mom. He and my mom go every Sunday to the continuing care to visit their friends who live there, to play games and to talk. He is a wonderful father, and I love him very much!
Friday, June 17, 2011
Another Love Story
My children Kelly and Joseph are 21 months apart and have been close since Joe was first born. Kelly held him just moments after he was born. She immediately took to calling him JoJo, "bubba Joe" or "Boo Boo." To this day, she still calls him "Boo Boo." Kelly did most of the talking when Joe was a baby. This was probably a good thing, because although Joe didn't start talking (except names) until he was about two and a half, once he did start talking, he began speaking in complete sentences and rarely stopped. She sang him songs and dragged him around the house to where ever she wanted to play.
As they got a little older, it became evident that Joe was just as loyal to Kelly. An example of this was that when Kelly was on time out (quite a frequent occurence with Kelly), Joe would sit by her and stay on time out with her until she was done. If I took away a privilege, like dessert or swimming, Joe would refuse his privilege, too. It made it a bit complicated as a parent, because I knew that if I disciplined Kelly, Joe would suffer, too. Kelly always shared everything she had with Joe. She drew him pictures to make him smile and laugh. While Kelly's mercurial moods made her angry sometimes with Joe, Joe never once was angry with Kelly. He was patient and would wait for her to be done yelling, and then he would lean over and smile up at her, and all was fixed again.
Kelly did not like hugging or cuddling much when she was little. SHE would choose when she wanted to be hugged or cuddled. Joe was the opposite. I think when he was little, he must have felt that if he couldn't touch someone, he would disappear, because he was always very close to me, Kelly or Erin, and holding on to our clothes, arms, necks, etc. With Joe, Kelly was much more tolerant, and let him hug her and lean on her and be close to her without too much complaint.
These two children developed a pattern of talking and sharing that was unique to them. It was as if they had their own language. They would talk and laugh so fast together, it was like listening to a river. They would laugh and giggle at things only they could understand. I used to call it the Kelly and Joseph show. The younger kids all slept in the same room until Joe was 5 and Kelly was 7, when the girls all moved in together and the boys got their own room. Kelly and Joe would keep talking until Joe fell asleep. (He always fell asleep first.) When they changed rooms, I still couldn't keep the two apart. I would always have to chase Kelly back to her room.
Even now that they are older, Kelly and Joe are just as close. Kelly still drags Joe around with her when she wants to talk with him. They still adore each other. When they are together, they talk incessantly. I bust up laughing in hilarity when I hear the two of them talking, because they're always thinking of crazy things and making up voices for the dogs, cats, and other animals. Even though Joe doesn't always go along with Kelly anymore, he's still Kelly's biggest fan.
When Joe was being teased and harassed in seventh grade because of his social anxiety/awkwardness, Kelly would tell Joe what to do or not to do so kids wouldn't tease him. Kelly's social skills were always excellent, and she used this to help Joe. Recently Joe went to his first dance. She gave him pointers...don't just say no (even though you're terrified), always smile at someone who asked you to dance, try to talk about something while you're dancing, say thank you when you're done. She looked out for him, and made sure only nice girls would dance with him. She snapped a photo of him during his first dance and sent it to me on my phone.
I delight in the love these two have for each other. I consider myself to be very lucky because all of my kids just adore each other most of the time. I think Joe has helped Kelly just as much as Kelly has helped Joe. Without Joe, Kelly might not have been able to form close connections with others to the degree that she is able to today. And without Joe's patience with Kelly, she might have spent a LOT more time on time-out. I also think his natural empathy has made Kelly more concerned for others than she might have been without her brother.
It's a love story born in heaven. These two were meant to be each other's strength on this earth. It's such a delight to see them together!
As they got a little older, it became evident that Joe was just as loyal to Kelly. An example of this was that when Kelly was on time out (quite a frequent occurence with Kelly), Joe would sit by her and stay on time out with her until she was done. If I took away a privilege, like dessert or swimming, Joe would refuse his privilege, too. It made it a bit complicated as a parent, because I knew that if I disciplined Kelly, Joe would suffer, too. Kelly always shared everything she had with Joe. She drew him pictures to make him smile and laugh. While Kelly's mercurial moods made her angry sometimes with Joe, Joe never once was angry with Kelly. He was patient and would wait for her to be done yelling, and then he would lean over and smile up at her, and all was fixed again.
Kelly did not like hugging or cuddling much when she was little. SHE would choose when she wanted to be hugged or cuddled. Joe was the opposite. I think when he was little, he must have felt that if he couldn't touch someone, he would disappear, because he was always very close to me, Kelly or Erin, and holding on to our clothes, arms, necks, etc. With Joe, Kelly was much more tolerant, and let him hug her and lean on her and be close to her without too much complaint.
These two children developed a pattern of talking and sharing that was unique to them. It was as if they had their own language. They would talk and laugh so fast together, it was like listening to a river. They would laugh and giggle at things only they could understand. I used to call it the Kelly and Joseph show. The younger kids all slept in the same room until Joe was 5 and Kelly was 7, when the girls all moved in together and the boys got their own room. Kelly and Joe would keep talking until Joe fell asleep. (He always fell asleep first.) When they changed rooms, I still couldn't keep the two apart. I would always have to chase Kelly back to her room.
Even now that they are older, Kelly and Joe are just as close. Kelly still drags Joe around with her when she wants to talk with him. They still adore each other. When they are together, they talk incessantly. I bust up laughing in hilarity when I hear the two of them talking, because they're always thinking of crazy things and making up voices for the dogs, cats, and other animals. Even though Joe doesn't always go along with Kelly anymore, he's still Kelly's biggest fan.
When Joe was being teased and harassed in seventh grade because of his social anxiety/awkwardness, Kelly would tell Joe what to do or not to do so kids wouldn't tease him. Kelly's social skills were always excellent, and she used this to help Joe. Recently Joe went to his first dance. She gave him pointers...don't just say no (even though you're terrified), always smile at someone who asked you to dance, try to talk about something while you're dancing, say thank you when you're done. She looked out for him, and made sure only nice girls would dance with him. She snapped a photo of him during his first dance and sent it to me on my phone.
I delight in the love these two have for each other. I consider myself to be very lucky because all of my kids just adore each other most of the time. I think Joe has helped Kelly just as much as Kelly has helped Joe. Without Joe, Kelly might not have been able to form close connections with others to the degree that she is able to today. And without Joe's patience with Kelly, she might have spent a LOT more time on time-out. I also think his natural empathy has made Kelly more concerned for others than she might have been without her brother.
It's a love story born in heaven. These two were meant to be each other's strength on this earth. It's such a delight to see them together!
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